Tara Maclay (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
moontothetide) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2012-05-15 04:15 pm
moontothetide) wrote in towerofanimus2012-05-15 04:15 pm
1st Spell
Who: Tara and whoever she happens to stumble across
What: A newcomer tries to find her way out, and instead finds a hell of a lot of trouble along the way.
When: All day
Where: The floors listed below
Format: Commentspam or prose, I'll copy whatever you give me
Warning: T for danger and possible violence
Awareness returns all in a rush. The haze and disorientation that always follow teleporting are a little slower to fade. But the first thing Tara knows is that she's on her back, resting on what feels like a mattress.
Opening her eyes reveals a ceiling. It's not a terribly distinctive ceiling. Tara attempts to turn her head, to see and take in more of the room and maybe get a sense of where she is. And the failure of her body to respond to even that simple command is enough to confirm for her that she can't move.
A few more seconds of increasingly desperate and entirely fruitless attempts to move result, before Tara gives up and relaxes her whipcord tense muscles with a whimper. Actually speaking up takes psyching herself up a bit, but finally she manages it.
"Um...h-hello? Can...c-can someone please help me? Or at least, m-maybe tell me how I got here? I...I don't remember. A-And, I...kind of can't seem to move. At all."
Later on, after the sleep paralysis has worn off, Tara can be found wandering the halls of the second dormitory level. She's fished a change of clothes out of her trunk, as well as - after some hesitation - her knife, and feels a bit more herself in a shirt and pants with the knife hanging off her belt. Both hands are clamped tight around her collar, her pale fingers obviously trying to tug it looser, to find any give in it and failing. Indigo liquid runs through it, marking her as an official resident of the tower, now. Her shoulders are hunched and the girl darts a nervous glance at every door she passes and every person she sees. But anyone who looks back will find Tara hastily looking away, staring fixedly at her feet and trying not to be noticed.
***
Tara is sitting at the top of the staircase, eyeing the perilous way down with wariness and exhaustion. She's bleeding and bruised - blood streams down her arm from what appear to be claw marks in her shoulder, and the back of her shirt is torn, as though something made a grab at her as she fled and just barely missed.
In her efforts to magically urge the skin of her arm to knit a little more quickly, she's not liable to notice anyone else on the staircase right away, or her immediate surroundings at all. Given the poor state of repair it seems to be in, this might not be a very good thing for either of you.
***
After learning even what little she has and seeing even what little she's seen of the tower thus far, Tara is reluctant to relax, even here. The garden that spreads out before her looks lush, beautiful, and peaceful. But there's danger here, and strangeness. She only needs to run her hand along her collar to know that.
But, even so, Tara finds herself wandering out into the garden, drinking in the quiet and letting the scent of flowers soothe her shattered nerves just a bit. She'll stay here, for just a while, wandering the meadow. Every so often, she'll stoop, pick a flower, and weave it into a growing daisy chain she seems to be crafting. But at the slightest sound, the slightest hint of another presence, she goes tense, gaze darting about for signs of danger. If you've just entered the garden, you'll likely feel Tara staring fixedly at you, a half finished daisy chain hanging in her hands, wondering if you're a threat and what she should do if you are.
***
Anyone coming up on the steps leading up on floor twenty two or the steps leading down on floor twenty four are liable to suddenly run into Tara coming the other way. She hurries either up or down the steps with a rather lost expression on her face, to immediately be replaced by one of surprise as she nearly runs into anyone. "O-Oh, my god, I'm so sorry..."
But then, with a frown, she stares up back the way she'd come with an expression of determination. "Not again..."
She turns, as though to start off on the stairs again.
***
Tara is dismayed to find that the staircase seems to simply end, here in the cafeteria. And, after all the walking she's done and the fright she's endured to get down this far, she absolutely refuses to accept it.
So she begins to search. Tara is growing increasingly aware that she's trapped, but refuses to accept it with her last threads of stubbornness. Attempting not to catch the eye of the other people here, Tara begins to pace the perimeter of the room, running her hands along the walls, searching for hidden catches or secret doors. Finding nothing, she examines the floor, seeking signs of trap doors. Finally, in a state of agitation and the in the center of the floor, Tara gives a frustrated growl and stamps her foot. She says a word in Latin that would, under ordinary circumstances, unlock any locked door within her range. But nothing happens, and she knows it, and finally Tara slumps to her knees in defeat. Her stomach feels impossibly empty. Maybe the people who run this madhouse will at least have the decency to feed her.
What: A newcomer tries to find her way out, and instead finds a hell of a lot of trouble along the way.
When: All day
Where: The floors listed below
Format: Commentspam or prose, I'll copy whatever you give me
Warning: T for danger and possible violence
Awareness returns all in a rush. The haze and disorientation that always follow teleporting are a little slower to fade. But the first thing Tara knows is that she's on her back, resting on what feels like a mattress.
Opening her eyes reveals a ceiling. It's not a terribly distinctive ceiling. Tara attempts to turn her head, to see and take in more of the room and maybe get a sense of where she is. And the failure of her body to respond to even that simple command is enough to confirm for her that she can't move.
A few more seconds of increasingly desperate and entirely fruitless attempts to move result, before Tara gives up and relaxes her whipcord tense muscles with a whimper. Actually speaking up takes psyching herself up a bit, but finally she manages it.
"Um...h-hello? Can...c-can someone please help me? Or at least, m-maybe tell me how I got here? I...I don't remember. A-And, I...kind of can't seem to move. At all."
Later on, after the sleep paralysis has worn off, Tara can be found wandering the halls of the second dormitory level. She's fished a change of clothes out of her trunk, as well as - after some hesitation - her knife, and feels a bit more herself in a shirt and pants with the knife hanging off her belt. Both hands are clamped tight around her collar, her pale fingers obviously trying to tug it looser, to find any give in it and failing. Indigo liquid runs through it, marking her as an official resident of the tower, now. Her shoulders are hunched and the girl darts a nervous glance at every door she passes and every person she sees. But anyone who looks back will find Tara hastily looking away, staring fixedly at her feet and trying not to be noticed.
***
Tara is sitting at the top of the staircase, eyeing the perilous way down with wariness and exhaustion. She's bleeding and bruised - blood streams down her arm from what appear to be claw marks in her shoulder, and the back of her shirt is torn, as though something made a grab at her as she fled and just barely missed.
In her efforts to magically urge the skin of her arm to knit a little more quickly, she's not liable to notice anyone else on the staircase right away, or her immediate surroundings at all. Given the poor state of repair it seems to be in, this might not be a very good thing for either of you.
***
After learning even what little she has and seeing even what little she's seen of the tower thus far, Tara is reluctant to relax, even here. The garden that spreads out before her looks lush, beautiful, and peaceful. But there's danger here, and strangeness. She only needs to run her hand along her collar to know that.
But, even so, Tara finds herself wandering out into the garden, drinking in the quiet and letting the scent of flowers soothe her shattered nerves just a bit. She'll stay here, for just a while, wandering the meadow. Every so often, she'll stoop, pick a flower, and weave it into a growing daisy chain she seems to be crafting. But at the slightest sound, the slightest hint of another presence, she goes tense, gaze darting about for signs of danger. If you've just entered the garden, you'll likely feel Tara staring fixedly at you, a half finished daisy chain hanging in her hands, wondering if you're a threat and what she should do if you are.
***
Anyone coming up on the steps leading up on floor twenty two or the steps leading down on floor twenty four are liable to suddenly run into Tara coming the other way. She hurries either up or down the steps with a rather lost expression on her face, to immediately be replaced by one of surprise as she nearly runs into anyone. "O-Oh, my god, I'm so sorry..."
But then, with a frown, she stares up back the way she'd come with an expression of determination. "Not again..."
She turns, as though to start off on the stairs again.
***
Tara is dismayed to find that the staircase seems to simply end, here in the cafeteria. And, after all the walking she's done and the fright she's endured to get down this far, she absolutely refuses to accept it.
So she begins to search. Tara is growing increasingly aware that she's trapped, but refuses to accept it with her last threads of stubbornness. Attempting not to catch the eye of the other people here, Tara begins to pace the perimeter of the room, running her hands along the walls, searching for hidden catches or secret doors. Finding nothing, she examines the floor, seeking signs of trap doors. Finally, in a state of agitation and the in the center of the floor, Tara gives a frustrated growl and stamps her foot. She says a word in Latin that would, under ordinary circumstances, unlock any locked door within her range. But nothing happens, and she knows it, and finally Tara slumps to her knees in defeat. Her stomach feels impossibly empty. Maybe the people who run this madhouse will at least have the decency to feed her.
no subject
Tara's voice was sharp, and her gaze snapped back up to meet Willow's. Something had clearly just clicked into place, and she held up a hand to forestall any other bad news while she relived it. "W-Wait...wait..."
And then Tara's hand flew to her mouth and her eyes went wide with horror.
"Goddess...I, I-I was there. When she did. But I didn't see anything. I, I just saw you, but Dawn said...oh god, Willow."
Then, with the air of someone clutching at a desperate last hope: "Can, c-can it do that? Be two people at once?"
no subject
Willow feels like her heart has dropped out of her chest, aching. She can't imagine what this must be like for Tara, wants to do anything she can to make it better for her, but knowing she can only do the opposite.
"That's why you weren't surprised to see me earlier. Wh-what was I telling you?" She suddenly corrects herself, "It telling you. Not me."