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towerofanimus2012-06-23 11:46 am
pactum) wrote in towerofanimus2012-06-23 11:46 am
Entry tags:
002; return. backdated to wednesday.
characters: ciel phantomhive and everyone!
setting: floor one.
format: whatever suits you.
summary: ciel wakes up after his death, struggles with his physical condition, and has a message to relay.
warnings: references to his death during the infighting event.
[ awakening this time had been even less pleasant than the first. it had taken a little longer for the paralysis to wear off--but even when it had, he hadn't want to move. there was--and is--an excruciating pain in his right arm, and when he'd finally managed to get to his feet, he'd discovered the ankle on that side to be in rather poor condition as well. it doesn't make sense, he'd thought, gritting his teeth to stop himself from making a sound, that his body should be out of sorts. though he was crushed to death--he'd only had a moment to realize what was happening, at the time, but he remembers it now--he'd understood that after death one was returned to the tower in optimum physical condition, no matter their manner of death. this clearly isn't the case now, and he's been holding his arm close to his side to make sure that it moves as little as possible.
at some point--perhaps when he can move a little more easily--he intends to locate, of all people, Grell Sutcliff. he owes Ronald Knox a favor, he supposes, for his help over the last few weeks, and Knox's request had been seemingly simple enough: "If you get back," he'd said, "find Grell! Tell him we'll be all right!" but it isn't very simple at all, in practice. Ciel has very little idea where to begin looking for Grell Sutcliff, given that he'd been actively trying to avoid seeing the reaper until now. and it isn't as though he's going to get very far, anyway--not with his ankle as it is. it's only with a great deal of limping, leaning, and soft cursing that he makes it to the elevator, which he uses to take him to the first floor. he's intending to get to the second, and the infirmary there, but the stairs going up look to be a daunting task, and the pain in his arm makes it difficult to concentrate on much else. perhaps testing the death system and returning to the tower had been a wrong choice, if it landed him in this position without anyone he knows well enough, who might protect him.
but, as always, he can't be bothered to regret it. he has to move forward, and find a way to remedy his current situation. mindful of his arm, he seats himself at one of the tables in the dining hall to give his ankle a rest. he'll have to at least attempt the stairs, he knows, in order to do something about his arm--but his ankle is throbbing something fierce now after all of this moving around, and even he can see through the fabric of his stocking that it's swollen in comparison to the other one. ]
setting: floor one.
format: whatever suits you.
summary: ciel wakes up after his death, struggles with his physical condition, and has a message to relay.
warnings: references to his death during the infighting event.
[ awakening this time had been even less pleasant than the first. it had taken a little longer for the paralysis to wear off--but even when it had, he hadn't want to move. there was--and is--an excruciating pain in his right arm, and when he'd finally managed to get to his feet, he'd discovered the ankle on that side to be in rather poor condition as well. it doesn't make sense, he'd thought, gritting his teeth to stop himself from making a sound, that his body should be out of sorts. though he was crushed to death--he'd only had a moment to realize what was happening, at the time, but he remembers it now--he'd understood that after death one was returned to the tower in optimum physical condition, no matter their manner of death. this clearly isn't the case now, and he's been holding his arm close to his side to make sure that it moves as little as possible.
at some point--perhaps when he can move a little more easily--he intends to locate, of all people, Grell Sutcliff. he owes Ronald Knox a favor, he supposes, for his help over the last few weeks, and Knox's request had been seemingly simple enough: "If you get back," he'd said, "find Grell! Tell him we'll be all right!" but it isn't very simple at all, in practice. Ciel has very little idea where to begin looking for Grell Sutcliff, given that he'd been actively trying to avoid seeing the reaper until now. and it isn't as though he's going to get very far, anyway--not with his ankle as it is. it's only with a great deal of limping, leaning, and soft cursing that he makes it to the elevator, which he uses to take him to the first floor. he's intending to get to the second, and the infirmary there, but the stairs going up look to be a daunting task, and the pain in his arm makes it difficult to concentrate on much else. perhaps testing the death system and returning to the tower had been a wrong choice, if it landed him in this position without anyone he knows well enough, who might protect him.
but, as always, he can't be bothered to regret it. he has to move forward, and find a way to remedy his current situation. mindful of his arm, he seats himself at one of the tables in the dining hall to give his ankle a rest. he'll have to at least attempt the stairs, he knows, in order to do something about his arm--but his ankle is throbbing something fierce now after all of this moving around, and even he can see through the fabric of his stocking that it's swollen in comparison to the other one. ]
no subject
At least the power was starting to come back, even if there were times when they were plunged into complete darkness. He saw the boy in the cafeteria and blinked. He recognised him from Riki's group though he hadn't spoke to him in the week they had been together.
But if he were here; assuming he wasn't a double... it meant he had been killed...]
Do you need assistance?
no subject
It seems the tower hasn't seen fit to return me completely intact.
[ he explains grimly. ]
I was attempting to reach the clinic on the next floor up, but...
[ he gestures with his left hand towards his swollen ankle. ]
no subject
[He reaches out to help the boy to his feet.]
no subject
You have my thanks.
[ while Ciel is loathe to touch anyone--especially someone he's just met--it seems there is little choice, in this case. and he hides his distaste well enough, masking it with a grateful-looking smile. ]
no subject
no subject
[ he nods his thanks at Suzaku's help. he doesn't particularly appreciate being in such close proximity to anyone--especially someone he doesn't know--but he can judge a pawn from a player when he sees one, and this young man is no doubt the former. ]
Tell me about what's been happening here.
no subject
Really, doc. Asking him back to your room already?
Ice. If only the blasted tower had ice at the moment. Frozen vegetables. Anything. Well, push comes to shove. And that arm.
However, it isn't the injuries that interest the doctor nor how he got them. Considering this place, it wasn't surprising. It's something else. There's something that tugs at his senses when he tests the air. It's unreadable, faint but most certainly there. It speaks of taint, much like his own.
So he approaches. ]
Excuse me. I am a doctor, my name is Kazutaka Muraki. If you will permit me to escort you back to my dormitory, I have the necessary materials to treat your injuries.
goodness gracious!
As I understand it, the infirmary is only one floor away, Doctor Muraki.
[ he tests the name, repeating the foreign syllables just as he'd heard them--albeit with a measure of skepticism. ]
Would it not also have the proper equipment for your purposes?
[ going back the way he'd just come is not an appealing idea--especially not to visit the room of a complete stranger on his behest. ]
No wine and dine first. The man works fast.
[ Of course, the kid has every right to be wary. Who wouldn't be, in a place like this? ]
However, they may be able to oblige with some materials I can use. I've only been left with the bare bones of a first aid kit but certainly enough to splint an ankle damaged to that degree.
[ But hey, getting up. ]
Can you walk at least? I'd be happy to escort you.
...going without the wine is completely fine.
[ while Ciel trusts the tower's staff even less than he does this man--who he identifies easily as another captive, the collar around his neck obvious enough--he also is not at all inclined to simply blindly follow him. ]
I can walk.
[ stubbornly, he pushes himself to his feet, cradling his right arm and standing with nearly all of his weight on his left foot. he'd made it all the way here--but he hadn't needed to climb any stairs. ]
...the dining then?
[ It's almost automatic, the way he starts to look over the damage now that he's much closer. Definitely crushed, that ankle. The arm's seen better days but how... and why. Clearly, the tower takes no biases.
However, there's still something that tugs at his more preternatural senses. It's an itch he can scratch later, however. Something he can figure out when he can actually place a finger on it.
So he follows after, clicking his tongue as he offers an arm to the boy at least. ]
Placing any further pressure on that ankle may cause further swelling as well as increase just how much damage its gone through. I would advise against moving it so carelessly.
no subject
Even so, it surprises her to see Ciel hunched over one of the tables. Surprises and disappoints, because he doesn't exactly meet her definition of "useful." In fact, seeing him makes her a little angry. How dare he reappear, when she hasn't seen William or Ronald, in weeks? Who does that child think he is? Or more importantly, who does this tower think it is, to be so unfair to her?
She steps right up behind him, and grasps his shoulder, to try and turn him around to look at her. "What do you think you're doing here?" she demands of him, as if it was his fault.
no subject
"How is that your concern?" He snaps, the fresh swell of pain in his arm making his voice more strained than he would have liked. Ciel may have been intending to seek her out, but upon actually coming face-to-face with her, he is far from glad to see her. But at the very least, she's saved him the trouble of searching.
no subject
"What did you do, then? Did you leave them there, like the brave child you are?"