towerofanimus | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Character(s): Loki, Vincent and any roommates (3-18)
Setting: Dormitories, 3-18
Format: Either
Summary: Loki tantruming and harassing anyone unlucky enough to be his roommate.
Warnings: None.

No one in the hallways were the remotest bit toward any degree of being helpful. Loki had tried teleporting to return home, to return anywhere, even (ugh) Midgard and nothing. He had even tried astral-projection to communicate with anyone at all, even (ugh) Thor. Nothing! The headache-inducing blandness of the architecture and stench of the place screamed mortal influence but the creatures weren't humans, not all of them. The collar was a vexing thing in itself, though less humiliating than the costume he had woken to.

Thankfully the chest held his clothing and helmet and Loki felt remotely more like himself as he stalked the hallways. Outright confronting people had not worked for him and when he had calmed down enough he took to silently investigating. Nothing at all, no clues besides those two useless (lying, he was sure) notes and the absurdity of his name being by a certain prison cell door along with three other names, to match the three other beds. It was a prison cell he was certain, for he wore the collar and the accommodations were more stark than the dark side of a distant moon.

Loki returned to his cell with a glower and darkening mood. His next plan was to further investigate his trunk and check in to see if his cellmates had shown up or not. With this course of action in mind he silently opened the door and stepped inside.

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"Yes." His thoughts moved to the group, to Cloud, to the friends he had gained from their journey across the world, following the waking terror of Sephiroth's trail, of Hojo's glutenous sin of power. They each faced something alone during their time together. No one was ever in his shoes, as he was not ever in their own. Alone. It was perfect.

Vincent harbored no fear or hesitation in facing what Loki had described, for within himself was his own doorway to Hell, in which demons flaunted effortlessly through –– and he can hear them always.

If what kept them there was something of great darkness, then Vincent knew how to find it. He could follow the shadows within the dark, he could smell the sulfur of Hell within the crevices on the embodiment of demons. A shameful, a sinful, attraction. As humans often flock together and seek out one another, he too sought the connection between the demons within himself and the world.

Loki frowned at the singular word as it was given, not impressed very much by the heroics. Heroes seemed to Loki either arrogant or stupid or more than likely both arrogant and stupid. A certain Lightning god came to mind and Loki's lips thinned as he found himself following Mute out the door. It was more interesting (sad as that was) than the empty room they left behind.

"And how would you propose to face such a terror? Have you fought such evils before? Does Gaia have invading aliens and faceless powers of darkness?"

An eerie shiver ran down Vincent's spine, he turned, quiet a moment and still in his walk down the hall. "Yes." Another moment of silence before, "I am one of them." An impulse to share, to degrade his morale, the thoughts that swarmed through his head found a leak down to his throat and slipped out of his mouth. He was a poison, he was darkness, he was an evil made by an insane man, and his body was a gateway into an abyss of absolute despair.

He then turned back to his pace, down the hallway.

Mute became a much more interesting thing to follow with that statement. He looked well- not quite human after all did he? Loki smiled softly as he followed, sizing up the man or whatever he was. Could it be this was another immortal? He dressed the part.

"I am no mere man myself," he couldn't help brag. "So far I have found naught but mortals here." Loki had no doubt that whatever this Mute turned out to be that he was no match for a god of Asgard but... now he was curious.

"So what do you do?" Loki asked, looking at the red cape. "Shoot fireballs or some such?"

"Sleep." Vincent avoided the right and stepped left, into a shorter hallway. The smell of the place reminded him more of a corporate building rather than an INN, as did the lighting. It brought a significant amount of discomfort to his being.

He also wasn't sure he liked the idea that Loki was volunteering himself to follow him in his steps, however, if Loki knew about this dark force binding them all here –– then perhaps he should be the one to lead. Thus Vincent stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Loki. "Do you know the way?"

"Yes," he replied confidently. Loki walked past Mute and listend for him following, content when he was. Loki had walked around the dormitories some but had ventured naught further for the time being. This seemed a good opportunity, or as good as any, and away they went.

They found themselves at an elevator and thanks to his time among the humans it was simple enough to navigate, especially being as it had only a few buttons. Loki pressed the button for the ground floor and after what seemed ages to him they came out. Loki thought a moment on looking around here but no, he headed for the stairway confidently.

"Interesting place, isn't it?" Loki commented quietly, perplexed by the oddness of things and strange sounds as they walked up past floor after floor. The sounds of water on floor ten caught his attention and he stopped, looked at Mute, and went in.

The elevator was a long, quiet, drop down–– giving Vincent the idea that the building they occupied was quite large. Loki moved quickly from the elevator toward the stairwell and Vincent followed, convinced that the other certainly knew where he was going; and that he was leading him to the master of this castle.

Vincent wasn't all too familiar enough to call this place interesting, thus he remained mute.

The room was strange in such a sense of the conception that the water was without glass, yet the tankless water stood perfectly secure in their respected individual areas. Save for the fish that occasionally jumped between the high walls of water.

"... Hn."

Loki immediately found this room delightful and he grinned slow and wide as they walked inside. Such a chaotic feeling to have the water at such a present, precarious, unpredictable stance against your notions of what should be holding it back and nothing more, nothing tangible.

He too was quiet, for once. While they took their first steps in he reached out and ran his fingers through the closest standing water, impressed to find it not an illusion but real, wet, enticing. "What do you make of it?" he asked his silent companion. In the depths of the water where it was darker, alien fish swam in and out of coral and rock formations as tall as a man.

Vincent couldn't make anything of it, all reasonable explanation was amiss here –– and thus magic must be the responsible weight.

The demon likes the sea. Vincent considered, as Loki described the master of their collars. However, the clear of the water was a contour to what his own demons would much have preferred. It would be the depth of the sea, the darkness of the water, the burning cold, and tight pressure that would excite his demons within. The predatory sea within the cover of darkness.

"Nothing." Finally answering Loki.

The sounds and smells of the room were exciting senses beyond those of the bewildered sight of the extraordinary room. It wasn't as awe inspiring as anything back on Asgard, whose mixture of magic and science caused for truly breathtaking buildings and constructs - such as the Bifrost Bridge. But this room was quirky and unprincipled in a way that made the grin stay on Loki's face. It was something he could see himself coming up with, just to cause people to stop and stare a minute.

It smelled salty and dank, and besides the unsublte sound of water moving around them in glassless aquariums there was a clicking noise. It took Loki a minute of wandering the water structures to come to the conclusion the clicking was getting louder.

"Do you hear that?" Loki asked. No sooner had he asked this then he had turned to look past Mute and saw it: the source of the clicking. It was taller than either himself or Mute and three times as wide, with pincers large enough to snap the head off a horse.

The echo of the noise drew Vincent's attention toward the cause, and once the monstrous crustacean was seen, Vincent pulled his gun.

The smell of the monster was foul, like its shell, heavy with decay, rot, and mildew in coiled fungus. An offense equally offensive as the strong pincers that snapped in warning. The gold metal of his boots sounded as he slid back a foot and aimed at the mouth of the crustacean. The shot of his gun echoed through the walls of water around them, and the tall walls rippled with an umbrage that made the fish anxious within those walls.

Loki took a step backward and watched, fascinated by the man's use of the gun. It was fascinating to him for how ineffective they seemed in most cases but when you had but a man's limited capability. There were any number of things Loki could have done in that moment: frozen the water around them, created a duplicate of himself to distract the giant crab-creature, thrown ice daggers at it. Instead he took another step back and watched, more curious in seeing how Mute handled himself than helping kill the thing.

The damage the man's gun did was more impressive than Loki would have anticipated. It blew off a chunk of the thing's face, spewing putrid blackness from its face and causing it to clack wildly and advance faster, huge pincers grasping at the gun wielding man.

Vincent jumped, high, and stepped down hard on what was left of the creature's face and caved the broken shell down into the brain.

The only movement that was seen after that was the shaking and jolt of a body dying, a shock to the system, and the beast fell with a thud.

Vincent then moved further into this room, keeping his gun in hand as he looked for both another opponent, and a door that would lead him out. "This is the way?" He asked, he was becoming suspicious that the man that lead him here did so without knowing it. As if the other man didn't know what to expect himself within this room he chose. Thus Vincent considered that perhaps Loki was lying.

"More or less," Loki answered, watching Mute intensely for any flash of emotion. Instead his attention was caught by another of these creatures, to his right. This time he had no option but to respond and he shifted back a step and turned to face the crustacean with his hand outstretched. Ice formed over his hand and Loki shot several daggers of razor-sharp ice he conjured toward the thing. The first one deflected off to fly into water with a splash but the second and third stuck into the shell. The creature continued to advance.

Vincent backtracked to Loki and caught sight of the advancing creature and he shot at it. The fire materia on his gun ignited the shells of the bullets and they melted into the shell like lava into a land. "They don't like us here." Were they put here to protect something, someone, or simply here because this is where they dwell? In this room of tall waters. Vincent's eyes narrowed, watching the animal fall down to the ground and he considered what would happen to it now. He stepped lightly over to the fallen beast and began to examine it with more interest. Was there worth in their death, besides their own protection? What would become of the fallen foes within this room?

Did someone come for them? Or were they left here to rot.

"It doesn't seem so. Makes you wonder, hm?" Loki looked around the room but could not see much through the wavering view of water and the life within that water. It was difficult to even see where the walls began through the distorted lens of water. Loki made several steps toward where they had come from. "Does not make me wonder enough to remain and see what else is here. How about you?"

"Hn." Vincent held his breath, then exhaled it slowly as he followed Loki, yet again, to where the other would lead him. Once the other tire of this he would venture off on his own, to discover what there was to see, to try and find what it is he needed to see. The god of this world, the controller of these collars.

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