towerofanimus | 002 | Open | Collar Event

Entry tags:

002 | Open | Collar Event | Backdated

Characters: A less sane Heine and you.

Setting: Hallways, or specified room.

Format: Action

Summary: Heine's collar has gone down one and along with his memory being warped due to Naminé's powers making him think he is once again young..
Warnings: Violence against anyone that crosses him part from youngins. You get a worried big brother Heine instead.

[Since he has awoken, Heine has been unable to find them. Not a sight of blonde hair or white jumpsuits. He begs to question if this is another test and that is why they are separated. It is not common for them to broken apart, after all they were meant to be a unit.

The halls are stalked without weapon, an expression of worry evident over his face. It does not occur to him that his height has changed or his attire is not of the jumpsuits worn by everyone else. For Heine it is every bit a replication of the complex he grew up in and his mindset placed right back into those long lost days.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[The doctor's walking hastily down a hallway, muttering to himself. The voices are disagreeing as to whether they want him to visit floor 12 or floor 19. They get so damn rowdy sometimes.

He's so wrapped up in his attempts to calm them that he turns a corner and walks right into Heine.]

Ack! Watch where you're- Oh, it's you! [His voice immediately goes from angry to chipper, and he greets his roommate with a smile (though it looks more forced than friendly).]

Me?

[Heine instinctively dust himself off and looks back up at the man with a look of confusion. He does not remember anyone looking like that or of that age besides the professor.

Leaning his head toward the right and giving sight to his newly recolored collar, he speaks in a dry tone.]

Are you lost?

[The doctor is nothing if not observant, and as such, he notices the change in collar color almost immediately. It seems like a lot of the people he's seen around here in his first week have changed colors. As he's new (and unaware that the people with recolored colors don't lose control of their powers on a regular basis), he thinks nothing of it.

He's been dutifully recording the events in his audio logs, though.]

Nein, I know exactly where I am going.

[He narrows his eyes, regarding Heine with a suspicious look. His manner of speech is definitely different than when they first spoke; he makes a mental note of it.]

But do you?

[He does not, nor did he when he was in the right frame of mind. His eyebrows burrow as if the question is somehow insulting or weird. The halls were new, not the ones of the complex or close.]

I don't remember this place.

[Or anything quite like it.]

The complex didn't have hallways like this and the others are not here.

[Richtofen crosses his arms across his chest, his lips curling back into something like a sneer. What is this "complex" the boy's talking about?]

Oh, it didn't, did it?

[He doesn't know who "the others" are, but he doesn't bother to ask about them.]

Did that collar screw with your mind?

[It's likely that the collar colors change often in this place, and Heine's personality does as well, but it's worth asking. He's a scientist as well as a doctor, and he's trying to formulate a hypothesis about the collars. He's been trying since he got here.]

[His expression flinches for a second to annoyance at being called out his collar. It does not cross this Heine that another collar is around his neck, only the metal one he has had his whole life.]

I'm fine.

[In response, Richtofen's own expression flickers. The boy doesn't have to be so rude! He was just asking an innocent question (using an admittedly nasty tone, but that was still no excuse).

His voice is almost sing-song when he says:] The doctor does not like the sound of your voice right now, albino...

[She keeps coming back to this place. This and the Aquarium. There's just something about the water, either still and lifeless, or swift and crawling with creatures, that calls to her. Something familiar. She has managed, thus far, to stay out of the water, but the temptation remains.

So when Heine enters the room, there is this crouched, suited up figure staring at the edge of the water, seemingly unmoving.]

[The figure is humanoid, more humanoid than those beast that are used for practice. Water is a new element as well adding to his suspicion that this is all a new test.

A test to kill another subject. The spring into action is fluid, arms held up and palms open for attack. Attacking first is more than an advantage, he has to pull it away from the water or find himself under.]

[And then the singing started, in the back of her mind. She felt him coming before she even had to look, knowing, tasting the threat in the hostile air.

Eleanor jumped up and back, twisting as she snarled. But then it was just a matter of landing and pushing her body forward, needle and harpoon ready.

And in the back of her head, the singing of a dozen dead people, clamoring for blood.]

[Balded weaponry, another new piece. It will tear flesh, but it will heal within time. Palms meet shoulder in air causing the both of them to hurdle down and fight for dominance.

His mind is in high gear trying to find a way to out move it. Those old models lacked the speed of them, but size had plenty to do with that weakness. This one is not large, but not small either.]

[And then she's gone, in a purple mist that slips through his fingers. Nor the side, as she'd intended, but above. Falling down. Eleanor snarled and shifted her posture, rolling into a kick meant to break a neck.

Fuck the singing, fuck the unease, fuck her powers crawling under her skin, pushing against it and making her feel she's at bursting point.

Fuck everything.]

[There is not enough time to roll out of the way completely leaving him with little choice but to defend with the front of his arm as his twist to block. Bones snap under the pressure and skin is pierced, but he is still active.

The broke arm is steaming and healing, but unusable making him use his other to grab hold its leg and yank. Armor stops his fingers from prying right in.

He cannot simply tear it limp from limp. He has to plan accordingly now.]

[She snarls when her foot collides with flesh, memories - her memories and that made it poignant and important - of fighting splicers coming up to the front of her mind. To move like Father had taught her, to protect Father. To kill.

Eleanor raised her hand to prepare a strike with the needle, but then he grabbed her and upset her.

And her incinerate plasmid went high-wire and she found herself shooting a fireball up into the ceiling. It wasn't optimal, but it'd have to do. She redirected the strike and tried to send it at him in the next moment, except he was so close that could only end up damaging her too.]

[Eyes widen at the increase in heat and light. They have weapons now and he does not making the fight even less even handed. What is programmed into him kicks gear, he needs to disarm it.

Intelligence is lacking when it came to the reject models, but this one is smart. Very smart. He worries briefly that it is someone he knows, some he cares about turned into a monster to be slain. Hissing and turning his weight, he attempts to do damage to its leg at least before trying to disarm it.

If it is as smart as he thinks, then it will try to create distance to fight as its weapons proves faulty at close range.]

[She felt bone strain as he moved, and she willed herself away again, once more leaving only purple mist behind. When she landed, by the edge of the water, Eleanor snarled, leaning her weigh on the opposite leg and stretching her arms. There wasn't much to shove at him here, but there was water. Water was good. Water didn't hurt her.

Water rose up to encircle her, but it was not the smooth, controlled flow that she knew she was capable of. It was messy and some of it slip from her control and fell to the ground, and it only pissed her off more.

She prepared her stand, uncaring if her leg was sprained, cracked or broken. It didn't matter, she had to keep going.]

[Eridan is sitting in front of one of the terminals in the dormitory hallways, arguing with himself and chatting with Gamzee, trying to get his act together. Keep calm, Eridan, it's not the end of the world.

Right?

So enjoy the lanky, muttering alien with the wavy horns and the grey skin typing on the terminal, fussing because typing with just one hand is a bit of an acquired skill.]

[It is enough to make Heine come to a stand still and stare at both computer and Eridan. He does not remember any of the subjects looking like that, but their appearances he supposed were very ranched. The text floating by between the two looks alien at best and vivid in color.

Before he knows it, Heine is stand almost over him watching his one hand work away.]

Who are you?

[Heine's voice startles him. And he reaches a hand to his chest, grinding his teeth. He almost splintered again. But no, it's okay. It'll be okay. He accidentally sent the message, though, half words half gibberish from where his hand slipped. He'll apologize in a moment, once he's done here.

Eridan looks up at Heine, head tilted to the side.]

Eridan. One 'a them, at least.

One of them?

[That was a curious statement leaving him to wonder if there are others like this. An eyebrow raises looking over Eridan toward the computer and then back to him.]

Never seen one of those.

[His voice is dry and toneless at stating the fact.]

[Eridan blinks and stares.]

Really? There're plenty 'a them around here. Do you... want to see?

Uh...yea.

[Without excitement in his voice it is hard to gauge just what he is feeling about the offer. The glowing letters though are like nothing he has ever seen and there are two sets as if someone is talking with them.]

[Eridan nodded and stepped aside, letting Heine look at the window. It wasn't like it was a private conversation, really. Except... well. Gamzee's quirk might be a headache to decipher...

He leaned in, to point over Heine's shoulder, not quite respecting personal space boundaries because... well, he's not noticing. Whoops.]

Here, you browse the posts, and then pick one and reply to it.

[All of it is takes deciphering. After a few glance overs he begins to understand their are quirks, but only on a symbol level. This Heine luckily has no problem with personal space as his future self.]

We never had any of these before.

[Red eyes go over the keyboard at a loss on where to begin. Social skills were not sharpened by any means. Besides, what use did a weapon have in talking?]

[Eridan reached a hand to shift the display over to the main board, where everyone's posts were.]

Oh. I... me and my friends, we used these a lot. The only way to talk to each other sometimes. It's... not that hard, once you get the hang of it. You just need to... ah, type whatever you want to say.

[He listens intently trying to comprehend what it all means.]

You don't talk to them in person?

No.

[Eridan shook his head.]

Just... my moirail. And sometimes a friend who visited her. I didn't live somewhere others could easily drop by. Then we all met in person, and it got... bad, I guess. It was better when we only chatted through these.

[Heine can understand that to some degree. His friends and family were rarely pulled together for good or talking.]

I can get that...we never...met on the good terms.

[Eridan grinned wryly, a whole lot of teeth showing, none of them particularly human.]

Makes you wish you never met at all, sometimes, doesn't it?

[Another difference, but not too different as he is reminded of his own sharp canines. Clearly meant for a more practical purpose than eating when made that way.]

Then you'd never know what you missed.

[Or what is worth fighting for.]

What I gained is not worth what I lost.

[Eridan's face takes on a darker look, the sunglasses gleaming a tad dangerously.]

[He flinches at the answer. It is a sore topic and one that brings up fears better buried.]

I'm sorry.

[His dry tone breaks just enough trying his best to show sincerity.]

[Eridan shrugs.]

It's not your fault.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

002 | Open | Collar Event | Backdated

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

The Pool Room -- let's pretend you didn't see my enter-fail

What enter fail?

Exactly.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Hallways

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Bitty!Heine would have gotten along with him so well.

D'awwww. So cute. Eridan gets along well with the crazy psycho kids.

He wasn't that bad...was he? haha

well, only when. He got mad.

Poor bitties. All the emotions.

Tortured little kids.