Professor Hojo (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
denigrator) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2012-05-08 01:18 am
denigrator) wrote in towerofanimus2012-05-08 01:18 am
Entry tags:
I try to live on science alone
Characters: Hojo and you
Setting: In his room and between the dormitories and the laboratory.
Format: Prose or action, whichever you prefer.
Summary: Hojo's arrival and subsequent explorations.
Warnings: Hojo being Hojo; also, blood and needles.
Room 2-08:
Strange, very strange. It's not that he isn't surprised by this change of scenery, but he must think this through with logic, not emotion.
His world has been destroyed? An interesting little pair of letters. Well, well, he can only hope he was responsible. That would be ideal, wouldn't it? Considering the timing, it's not so unthinkable… But then, it is an incredible claim, and he'd need proof to believe it. Scientists don't believe claims without evidence, though he's always willing to consider a theory that has merit. Yes, he'll consider it. He touches his fingers to the collar at his neck, a curious expression on his face. He's almost--amused.
After a long pause, Hojo rises and stretches, studying the room and, before long, opening his trunk. How thoughtful! A ShinRa armband, and his clothing. First, he studies the Materia in the armband with a faint smile. Now, that is useful. Ah, and there's his gun. He dresses and arms himself quickly. No sense in waiting. Once that's done, he's happy to find some of his samples at the bottom of the trunk, nice and neatly stowed away.
He drums the fingers of one hand upon the back of the other, looking down at his arm thoughtfully. "Hm, and I wonder, are you still in there? Or have you left me?" He asks--maybe himself, or maybe he believes he's actually talking to someone else. He chuckles, his lips twisting into a smile. "First things first, I should find out, shouldn't I? It would be rude of me to ignore you. Must check my results."
Later, throughout the Tower, anywhere between the Dormitories and Floor 27:
He hums to himself as he walks, not any particular tune, just a tuneless collection of notes sprinkled here and there. With his lab coat covering his gun and his Materia, he's not visibly armed unless one looks very closely. At first glance, he certainly doesn't look fit for combat. The truth is, fit or not, nothing could stop him from exploring. He has investigations to conduct!
It's a shame he failed, he thinks to himself--yes, even he failed in the end, but he knows why. Like any good researcher, he was able to pinpoint the exact moment and nature of his error, once he realized that there was a flaw in the research. Cloud. Yes, Cloud, the one he'd deemed to be a failure, who was in fact his greatest success, the perfect Sephiroth clone. If only he'd seen it sooner! The last thing he remembers before arriving here is Cloud. And dying… Not that dying matters. Not to him. Not anymore.
And, on Floor 27:
Excellent! Just what he's been looking for. A laboratory to work in. Much of the equipment is odd to him, but some is far more familiar. So much to explore, but for the moment, he only has one goal. He doesn't need much. Just a microscope to analyze a sample of his blood. Yes, that's what he's most interested in now. He's brought a syringe and needle with him, and he draws his own blood without blinking, still smiling and humming the same tuneless non-song to himself.
Setting: In his room and between the dormitories and the laboratory.
Format: Prose or action, whichever you prefer.
Summary: Hojo's arrival and subsequent explorations.
Warnings: Hojo being Hojo; also, blood and needles.
Room 2-08:
Strange, very strange. It's not that he isn't surprised by this change of scenery, but he must think this through with logic, not emotion.
His world has been destroyed? An interesting little pair of letters. Well, well, he can only hope he was responsible. That would be ideal, wouldn't it? Considering the timing, it's not so unthinkable… But then, it is an incredible claim, and he'd need proof to believe it. Scientists don't believe claims without evidence, though he's always willing to consider a theory that has merit. Yes, he'll consider it. He touches his fingers to the collar at his neck, a curious expression on his face. He's almost--amused.
After a long pause, Hojo rises and stretches, studying the room and, before long, opening his trunk. How thoughtful! A ShinRa armband, and his clothing. First, he studies the Materia in the armband with a faint smile. Now, that is useful. Ah, and there's his gun. He dresses and arms himself quickly. No sense in waiting. Once that's done, he's happy to find some of his samples at the bottom of the trunk, nice and neatly stowed away.
He drums the fingers of one hand upon the back of the other, looking down at his arm thoughtfully. "Hm, and I wonder, are you still in there? Or have you left me?" He asks--maybe himself, or maybe he believes he's actually talking to someone else. He chuckles, his lips twisting into a smile. "First things first, I should find out, shouldn't I? It would be rude of me to ignore you. Must check my results."
Later, throughout the Tower, anywhere between the Dormitories and Floor 27:
He hums to himself as he walks, not any particular tune, just a tuneless collection of notes sprinkled here and there. With his lab coat covering his gun and his Materia, he's not visibly armed unless one looks very closely. At first glance, he certainly doesn't look fit for combat. The truth is, fit or not, nothing could stop him from exploring. He has investigations to conduct!
It's a shame he failed, he thinks to himself--yes, even he failed in the end, but he knows why. Like any good researcher, he was able to pinpoint the exact moment and nature of his error, once he realized that there was a flaw in the research. Cloud. Yes, Cloud, the one he'd deemed to be a failure, who was in fact his greatest success, the perfect Sephiroth clone. If only he'd seen it sooner! The last thing he remembers before arriving here is Cloud. And dying… Not that dying matters. Not to him. Not anymore.
And, on Floor 27:
Excellent! Just what he's been looking for. A laboratory to work in. Much of the equipment is odd to him, but some is far more familiar. So much to explore, but for the moment, he only has one goal. He doesn't need much. Just a microscope to analyze a sample of his blood. Yes, that's what he's most interested in now. He's brought a syringe and needle with him, and he draws his own blood without blinking, still smiling and humming the same tuneless non-song to himself.
no subject
"Did you? That's surprisingly farsighted of you." Not that he thought this was evidence of actual foresight or of a Turk drawing a logical conclusion.
I'M SORRY. HE HATES HOJO SO MUCH. D:
"I'm going to make one thing clear; you put one toe out of line, you do anything to anyone here they don't specifically request you do, you so much as bring a scalpel anywhere near someone who doesn't need medical attention, you'll be answering to me and that's something you'd probably like to avoid. I don't work for ShinRa anymore Hojo, and I'm pretty sure you know what that means."
Whatever protection the president had afforded Hojo was null and void in Reno's opinion, he wasn't on company payroll and in all technicalities his contract was void as well.
"Don't think I won't be watching either."
Never apologize! <3
The rambling of this limited fool continued not to interest him. Scientists didn't give in to threats. He was already dead, but his consciousness continued to exist another form. "I'm busy at the moment. Fine fine, watch whatever you like, though I doubt much of what you see will make sense or be of interest to you. Perhaps you might learn something, although it's best not to hope for too much." He nodded in the direction he was going, with a chuckle. "Perhaps you'd like to accompany me?"
OKAY THEN 8D
He had a nailbat in his trunk that was swiftly getting Hojo's name put on it, and he was sure he could jerry rig all sorts of annoyances and interruptions to the man.
no subject