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)
towerofanimus2012-06-04 10:13 pm
moontothetide) wrote in towerofanimus2012-06-04 10:13 pm
Entry tags:
2nd Spell
Characters: Tara Maclay and open!
When: July 1st, and then July 3rd
Setting: Listed below
Format: Action or commentspam, I'll copy you
Summary: Today is a day where many things happen. Most of them are awful
Warnings: Death and possibly violence
1. Floor Thirty-Eight
Tara is pacing. She's pacing and wandering around the room, so lost in her own pensive thoughts that this occasionally involves bumping her shin painfully against a table or stumbling against an armchair. But, whenever she does this, it only results in a brief pause in her movement, and she doesn't put the letter down at all, instead simply standing there and reading it again and again and again.
Because she is holding a letter in both hands, and both those hands are shaking, and Tara is reading and rereading it as though each time is the first, and each time makes as little sense as the time before it.
Needless to say, Tara isn't in the right frame of mind to notice people, unless she bumps into them. "Oh! Oh god, I'm, I-I'm so sorry. D-Did I hurt you?"
2. Floor Two
Tara doesn't normally take the elevator in any case, so she doesn't notice that it isn't working to take her down as far as the infirmary. No, the walk down there is peaceful enough, for the tower, which is to say that she only has to strike down a couple of annoying little daytime creatures with a quick spell or two, and manages without having to take very much care to avoid the environmental hazards.
Her first collar check had been an early collar check, on her arrival, a fact she'd been made brutally aware of by some retrieval units dragging her kicking and shouting out of the library. After that, well, Tara had been even less sure of the schedule than she had before and, not being terribly eager to be dragging kicking and screaming from her work, she was taking a walk down to the infirmary just to check whether or not there was a collar check today, and get the indigo liquid in her collar topped up if there was. Ever since learning from Xion that the collars were necessary in more ways than one, she was eager to it topped up.
But, upon arrival, Tara was unpleasantly surprised. The clinic was empty, utterly devoid of the blank eyed, bland workers she'd met there on her last visit. In fact, the place seems completely deserted. Tara fortunately hasn't had to visit this floor more than once, so she has no way of knowing if there are days where it's supposed to be empty. But it still doesn't feel right to her, and so Tara lingers, knife in hand, pacing among the beds and checking the cabinets and rifling through whatever's been left out for her to rifle through.
4. Floor Twenty-Four
Ninety nine percent of the time, this floor is empty.
One percent of the time, it's not.
Tara stumbles as she appears at the far end of the room. The thing makes no sound as it marshals itself, but some hidden, long developed sense of danger makes Tara look up.
Her eyes grow wide with terror. Her mouth opens, but she can't even draw in the breath to scream. Instead, she starts to run, mad, desperate strides bringing her on and on back towards the stairs. If she weren't quite so terrified she would fly instead, but it's been too long without a power boost, and she can't take to the air without pausing for a few scant seconds that she doesn't have.
They're the stairs down, but she doesn't care, she just has to get away.
...and she doesn't.
Tara shrieks in agony as the shadow falls upon her. She prays for help to come or, failing that, for unconsciousness to take her.
No one comes, and it doesn't.
5. Room 2-07, then Dormitory Floor 2
It's two days later that Tara awakes, in agony, in her bed in the room she shares with four other girls. And, for ten minutes, she can't even move to take any action to ease the pain. But any of her roommates that happened to be present will be made aware to Tara's presence, if not by her soft whimpers of pain, then by her voice, faint and exhausted and bewildered.
"It's...i-it's not supposed to...to feel this way. They said..."
But then her words are cut off by a fit of ragged coughs that make her body twitch despite its paralysis, and leaves blood dotting her chin.
It's clear even to Tara that she needs medical attention, with every inch of her skin feeling like it's aflame and her insides feeling as though they were messily chopped to mincemeat before being clumsily reassembled. Who's to say this wasn't the case? But the painless resurrection she's heard so much about has been anything but, so far. So fellow wanderers on the second dormitory level will likely see Tara, limping along, one hand braced against the wall, staring straight ahead with the ragged determination of the exhausted but desperate.
And it's then that she finds that the elevators aren't working. Tara can't help herself, she collapses back against the elevator doors to sob. But she does so standing up. She knows that, as horrible as she's feeling, if she sits down getting back up to haul herself all the way back down to the infirmary will be even more of a hellish effort.
Tara can be found on any floor, after that, making her slow but grimly determined way down the stairs. It's clear that she's in pain, one hand pressed tight over her stomach despite how much pain even wearing her clothes is causing against her brutalized skin. There's blood around her mouth from the cough fits that occasionally seize her body, leaving her doubled over in pain.
But she keeps going. For an emergency like this...and she's sure she counts, even in this place...there has to be a way to get a doctor. There must still be doctors somewhere in the tower. Aren't there?
Back on the second floor for the second time in three days, she finds that there isn't. And then, defeated and in pain, Tara collapses onto a bed and just lays there.
When: July 1st, and then July 3rd
Setting: Listed below
Format: Action or commentspam, I'll copy you
Summary: Today is a day where many things happen. Most of them are awful
Warnings: Death and possibly violence
1. Floor Thirty-Eight
Tara is pacing. She's pacing and wandering around the room, so lost in her own pensive thoughts that this occasionally involves bumping her shin painfully against a table or stumbling against an armchair. But, whenever she does this, it only results in a brief pause in her movement, and she doesn't put the letter down at all, instead simply standing there and reading it again and again and again.
Because she is holding a letter in both hands, and both those hands are shaking, and Tara is reading and rereading it as though each time is the first, and each time makes as little sense as the time before it.
Needless to say, Tara isn't in the right frame of mind to notice people, unless she bumps into them. "Oh! Oh god, I'm, I-I'm so sorry. D-Did I hurt you?"
2. Floor Two
Tara doesn't normally take the elevator in any case, so she doesn't notice that it isn't working to take her down as far as the infirmary. No, the walk down there is peaceful enough, for the tower, which is to say that she only has to strike down a couple of annoying little daytime creatures with a quick spell or two, and manages without having to take very much care to avoid the environmental hazards.
Her first collar check had been an early collar check, on her arrival, a fact she'd been made brutally aware of by some retrieval units dragging her kicking and shouting out of the library. After that, well, Tara had been even less sure of the schedule than she had before and, not being terribly eager to be dragging kicking and screaming from her work, she was taking a walk down to the infirmary just to check whether or not there was a collar check today, and get the indigo liquid in her collar topped up if there was. Ever since learning from Xion that the collars were necessary in more ways than one, she was eager to it topped up.
But, upon arrival, Tara was unpleasantly surprised. The clinic was empty, utterly devoid of the blank eyed, bland workers she'd met there on her last visit. In fact, the place seems completely deserted. Tara fortunately hasn't had to visit this floor more than once, so she has no way of knowing if there are days where it's supposed to be empty. But it still doesn't feel right to her, and so Tara lingers, knife in hand, pacing among the beds and checking the cabinets and rifling through whatever's been left out for her to rifle through.
4. Floor Twenty-Four
Ninety nine percent of the time, this floor is empty.
One percent of the time, it's not.
Tara stumbles as she appears at the far end of the room. The thing makes no sound as it marshals itself, but some hidden, long developed sense of danger makes Tara look up.
Her eyes grow wide with terror. Her mouth opens, but she can't even draw in the breath to scream. Instead, she starts to run, mad, desperate strides bringing her on and on back towards the stairs. If she weren't quite so terrified she would fly instead, but it's been too long without a power boost, and she can't take to the air without pausing for a few scant seconds that she doesn't have.
They're the stairs down, but she doesn't care, she just has to get away.
...and she doesn't.
Tara shrieks in agony as the shadow falls upon her. She prays for help to come or, failing that, for unconsciousness to take her.
No one comes, and it doesn't.
5. Room 2-07, then Dormitory Floor 2
It's two days later that Tara awakes, in agony, in her bed in the room she shares with four other girls. And, for ten minutes, she can't even move to take any action to ease the pain. But any of her roommates that happened to be present will be made aware to Tara's presence, if not by her soft whimpers of pain, then by her voice, faint and exhausted and bewildered.
"It's...i-it's not supposed to...to feel this way. They said..."
But then her words are cut off by a fit of ragged coughs that make her body twitch despite its paralysis, and leaves blood dotting her chin.
It's clear even to Tara that she needs medical attention, with every inch of her skin feeling like it's aflame and her insides feeling as though they were messily chopped to mincemeat before being clumsily reassembled. Who's to say this wasn't the case? But the painless resurrection she's heard so much about has been anything but, so far. So fellow wanderers on the second dormitory level will likely see Tara, limping along, one hand braced against the wall, staring straight ahead with the ragged determination of the exhausted but desperate.
And it's then that she finds that the elevators aren't working. Tara can't help herself, she collapses back against the elevator doors to sob. But she does so standing up. She knows that, as horrible as she's feeling, if she sits down getting back up to haul herself all the way back down to the infirmary will be even more of a hellish effort.
Tara can be found on any floor, after that, making her slow but grimly determined way down the stairs. It's clear that she's in pain, one hand pressed tight over her stomach despite how much pain even wearing her clothes is causing against her brutalized skin. There's blood around her mouth from the cough fits that occasionally seize her body, leaving her doubled over in pain.
But she keeps going. For an emergency like this...and she's sure she counts, even in this place...there has to be a way to get a doctor. There must still be doctors somewhere in the tower. Aren't there?
Back on the second floor for the second time in three days, she finds that there isn't. And then, defeated and in pain, Tara collapses onto a bed and just lays there.
no subject
Even if she was weak, even if she always needed them to protect her, even if the only thing she ever did to help was kill Warren.
"...do, um, do they have colleges? W-Where you're from? Th-They had one there. I, I w-was a student."
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no subject
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Shion blinked, "Everyone was tested, as small children where I come from, if you were clever you got sent to the best schools, your whole family could move to the best area. If you did well you could be selected for the special program when you are twelve, which would lead to university. But even those who weren't selected could go to school for free... It was compulsory..." He wasn't sure what it was like in her world, but surely they couldn't force people to go to school if they had to pay.
no subject
Tara supposes she can understand that, but only dimly. When she'd been young, she'd scarcely been able to wait for college. College had meant freedom, and learning, and being away from her family. She'd even tried for early admission, but her extracurriculars hadn't been up to par, even for UC Sunnydale.
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"I never ended up in university though," He tied off another bandage, almost finished. "I was expelled a few years ago."
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"That's too bad...you seem nice. I-I'm sure it wasn't your fault..."
no subject
Still didn't, more so now than ever.
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And that's about all she'll able to manage before Tara's eyes slip closed, and she slumps back against the bed as sleep finally claims her again. It was really only possible with someone else there - her last sensible thought is that she really should thank Shion again when she wakes up.
no subject