[002]

[fallen_stage]

Characters: Kuja and whomever wants to pester him.
Setting: Different places! ;A; Various; see cuttext.
Format: Starting with action, I'll match you.
Summary: Kuja's finding it harder to readjust as usual; more discomfort arrives as he explores the full possibilities of the Tower.
Warning: Minor self-harm? Scratching. Also vomiting.

Kuja woke with a start, but the paralysis wouldn't let him leap from bed, wouldn't let him move at all, wouldn't let him breathe. Sheer panic consumes him during that time, robbing his breath further. Once he can move he sits up, sucking air into his lungs, his lungs, his trachea, his mouth, his lips. For a few moments, Kuja huddles over, hands covering his face and nails digging into his scalp. His face, his nails, his scalp, his pain. He is Kuja, he has a soul, he was from Terra, and he is not like those other guys.

From the back of his throat Kuja can feel a choking sensation, his diaphragm twitching. He knows what it is. Stumbling as he gets out of bed (thankfully dressed in his nightshirt), he ignores everyone as he rushes to the nearest bathroom, not bothering to close the stall door behind himself before dropping to his knees and getting sick.

After that awful, wretched dream, tasting his own stomach acid is almost a confirming relief

((ooc: threads for this will be first come, first serve chronologically. I'll assume Kuja remains sick for a while and others hear him from outside))

[Kuja had been coming regularly for meals, oddly unperturbed by the bland fare offered by the Tower. If he finds it unpleasant, he makes no sign; makes no sign of anything much, in fact. His face is a carefully blank face, expressive as a stone. Right now he has about a third of a bar missing on his plate, his posture one of boredom but his face clear as ever. He pokes around a crumb but isn't otherwise eating.]

[For someone so prim, Kuja seems to have no reservation about sprawling on a couch, staring out into the swirling fog. He seems to have stolenscrounged up some pants from somewhere: they're dark and ill-fitting, but there, under his White Robe. Right now Kuja is on his stomach, his face is buried in his crossed arms.]

[In the same outfit as the day before, Kuja is neatly sitting against a wall. Next to him is a thick water column of jellyfish and pufferfish and even a blue-ringed octopus. Should he really be sticking his hand in like that..?]

[Kuja must really like those pants. He's only wearing the white undershirt of his usual outfit this time around. Rather dangerous considering he seems to be fussing with some contraption, a pile of colored bottles and an assortment of dull rocks arranged on the counter around him. He seems a bit less morose this time around.]

Comments

Cafeteria

[great_king_of_evil]

[ Ganondorf was heading to take his meal- The food was horrendous as ever. And who should he find? Kuja.

Backstabber. Traitor. He hoped he had received the worst punishment of them all. He deserved no less. Well... He'd have done the same eventually. In fact he's probably have done even worst, so he can't really hold it against him.

Still. He's angry but he'll sit at Kuja's table anyway. ]

[fallen_stage]

[Whatever thoughts Ganon has, Kuja doesn't appear to share them. He just glances at Ganon as he sits down.]

Hello again. No complications, I trust?

[great_king_of_evil]

None.

[ He starts eating. Slowly, because. He's still annoyed. ]

I assume you didn't win the Labyrinth?

[ He hadn't bothered checking who won. ]

[fallen_stage]

[Kuja still plays around with the bar instead of actually eating. He should notice Ganondorf's mood, but he doesn't. Huh.]

No, a man named England did. Seeing what happened, maybe it's a good thing.

[great_king_of_evil]

England? That's a ridiculous name.

[ Ganondorf doesn't care on his end and eat. Note, the food inside the labyrinth was much better than this stuff. ]

And what happened?

[fallen_stage]

[Kuja just shrugs. He's heard stranger names.]

He got more powers than he knows what to do with. Literally: he can't keep them under control. Maybe you or I could figure something out, but he doesn't seem to have experience with such things.

[great_king_of_evil]

[ This takes a chuckles out of him. ]

I assume the fool didn't try using it against our hosts or to figure the tower out. I am not sure I'd help someone like that.

[fallen_stage]

[Now that's an interesting thing to say. It could mean many things, but if Kuja has a proper read on this man, then...]

Someone foolish enough to try a futile direct assault, especially one that cannot be sustained, is not worth helping.

[great_king_of_evil]

[ He shakes his head. Nope, not a proper read just yet Kuja. ]

It's not a matter of how he would have done. It's if he even tried. He had what the people of this tower crave for: power. Yet judging by our surrounding, he's too weak to use that power to proper deeds. He's given the opportunity to change the fate of the tower, and waste it.

[denigrator]

[Hojo's attention is attracted by the act of someone "fussing with some contraption", and he moves closer to observe, hovering, watching. He is potentially interested, but not definitely.]

And what are you doing there, hm?

SHRIEK I was hoping we'd have CR <3

[fallen_stage]

[Kuja spares the other man a glance. With such a confident (and presumptuous) tone, Kuja guesses he's used to having subordinates. Kuja isn't nearly so tired as to become meek. Sliding his stool back from the synthesizer, Kuja holds up an Ore for inspection.]

Trying to make jewels. I haven't quite got the machine to work yet.

I am happy to be able to oblige! <3

[denigrator]

[He adjusts his glasses. He looks over the ore, then the synthesizer, without saying anything at first.]

To make jewels. [His tone as he repeats this isn't incredulous. It's a simple repetition, without any real emotion attached.]

Then this device, when functioning, should theoretically be capable of the transmutation of matter? Or is it that this substance in particular contains the potential to become a jewel but lacks a specific catalyst?

[fallen_stage]

[At least he's reasonably intelligent.]

The synthesizer can create a new object out of two others, but in this case, the Ore I hold, while plain, has the potential to become a gemstone. The work of millions of years of pressure and heat and chemistry... in a moment.

[denigrator]

[He leans in a little closer.] Fascinating. The chemical reaction it causes can be put to other uses.

Can it synthesize both organic and inorganic matter?

[He tends toward the organic in his own studies, but he doesn't limit those studies. Knowledge should have no limits.]

Do you have a purpose in mind for these jewels? [He wouldn't be likely to ask 'why create jewels', since science for its own sake makes perfect sense to him, but he wonders if the jewels are an end in and of themselves, or if there is more.]

[fallen_stage]

Depends on the matter and combination. I'm not an expert on this by any means: it's a technical skill usually taught to apprentices.

[With the intelligent questions, Kuja is defrosting. This was proving to be a good distraction after all.]

Not particularly. They can be used to channel certain energy, or teach certain abilities, but I really wanted to test out the synthesizer, and jewels are some of the simpler items to mix.

[denigrator]

Mm, so it is quite versatile. So much potential.

Apprentices of what trade? We can fuse certain objects in my world, but we do not have a synthesizer so varied in its uses. I'm impressed.

[It is a device from this person's world, then, but not of their design (not that Hojo has paid very close attention to Kuja himself). To meet the inventor of such a device would be quite a pleasure, but he is content to speak about it as well; he will talk shop, as it were, in almost any situation. He nods his understanding and approval.]

Best to begin with a simple experiment. [Not that he always follows this advice himself.] Jewels are useful items, then. I know of similar objects. I would like to observe, if I may.

I almost wrote "shop" as "ship"

[fallen_stage]

Of synthesizing, of course. As you might imagine, it can be a delicate process.

[Oh yes, Kuja really likes talking shop with someone who knows what they're going on about. His suggestion is good, if obvious.]

Of course.

[Pop in the Ore here, pour in the potion here, fiddle around, and........ Kuja plucks out the result, holding it out.]

Ta-da! An opal. When equipped, it can grant one Blizzara.

[He's not gonna mention its eidolon potential yet. Without a summoner it's useless.]

Floor 4; two days after

[thebigsister]

[Eleanor is irritated. She finds her way to this floor as she stalks about, wearing the thin white dress once more. Her powers gone, she has no hope to get inside her suit for now.

She walks up to the glass passing Kuja's couch without noticing him, and stopping to stare at her reflexion on the windows. It's only then that she notices his.]

Oh.

[She turns to look at him, barefoot and slightly disheveled.]

Hello.

[fallen_stage]

[Kuja suppresses a grumble, recognizing her voice. He doesn't sit up, but he does turns his head from his arms.]

Hello Eleanor. I need to thank you for your support during the last... unpleasantness.

[thebigsister]

[Eleanor shrugs.]

It's alright. You are an interesting man, I was curious to see what you'd do with the resources at your disposal.

[fallen_stage]

[Kuja rolls onto his side, curling up on the sofa. Definitely more listless than his usual charming self.]

Survive. Like I always do. Still, I'm glad someone isn't scolding me for doing what anyone else would.

[There could only be one survivor; he wasn't gonna die just because of someone's young age.]

[thebigsister]

I have told you this before, haven't I? I am no messiah, it is not my place to judge.

[She shrugs.]

Whether you've done right or wrong will catch up with you on its own, it is the way kindness moves the world.

[fallen_stage]

[For someone who does advocates kindness, her view is very... refreshing. Like a sea breeze in the desert.]

I appreciate your understanding, Eleanor. Perhaps they are the fortunate ones, to not know what it's like to be driven to choosing between kill or be killed.

[thebigsister]

I don't think so.

[Eleanor shrugged.]

They might be happier for it, but not necessarily fortunate. They have never had to make the choice, to test themselves and find out whether they truly are who they think they are. Freedom is about choice, even harsh ones.

Dang Eleanor you make his morality go doki doki

[fallen_stage]

[Well. That wasn't the answer he was expecting at all. Most people considered such desperate circumstances irredeemably tragic and something to be avoided. Truly who they think they are... Yes, Kuja had seem some people collapse because an extreme experience cracked their self-perception.]

...I think we both know that from experience, don't we?