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towerofanimus2012-07-01 12:23 am
dielikeyouwantme) wrote in towerofanimus2012-07-01 12:23 am
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Characters: Grell and YOU (and caliginous, secretly)
Setting: Early on July 1st. Pick a floor, any floor. (A part of this mind control plot. Since Karkat's involvement is being handwaved, and Grell can conceivably have her emotions altered more than once, I'm not picky about the location.)
Format: Either, but prose preferred.
Summary: Grell has been feeling testy, lately. Bloodthirsty, even.
Warnings: Violence, potential character death.
Grell is beginning to forget the last time she slept.
She knows the rules, just like everyone else, but what's the point in abiding by them? No tower is going to push her around, and tell her what to do. Especially not one that thinks it's funny, to keep stranding her here, without her acquaintances to amuse her.
It must be approaching four nights, now. She yawns, and readjusts her chainsaw, on her shoulder.
The days are blurring together. Everything has been a blur, really, since William and Ronald were taken away from her. Not because she's worried, she reminds herself. But what is she meant to do, with no one interesting to talk to? She spends her nights killing monsters, and her days dreaming up newer, bloodier ways of carrying out her little murders. The past few days, she hasn't been able to escape the thought that she's going about this all wrong. The monsters are no fun. Her fellow tower citizens, though... Now, there's an idea.
An idea that won't go away (not that she tries hard to fight it). Today, it seems particularly strong. In fact, within the last few minutes, it's risen like a fever pitch, in her mind. What have the monsters ever done to her? Nothing. And the other inhabitants of the tower? Everything. Every single one of them should be writhing in pain, in place of William and Ronald. Every single one of them owes her the entertainment, the company, that her friends can't currently provide.
caliginous, secretly)Setting: Early on July 1st. Pick a floor, any floor. (A part of this mind control plot. Since Karkat's involvement is being handwaved, and Grell can conceivably have her emotions altered more than once, I'm not picky about the location.)
Format: Either, but prose preferred.
Summary: Grell has been feeling testy, lately. Bloodthirsty, even.
Warnings: Violence, potential character death.
Grell is beginning to forget the last time she slept.
She knows the rules, just like everyone else, but what's the point in abiding by them? No tower is going to push her around, and tell her what to do. Especially not one that thinks it's funny, to keep stranding her here, without her acquaintances to amuse her.
It must be approaching four nights, now. She yawns, and readjusts her chainsaw, on her shoulder.
The days are blurring together. Everything has been a blur, really, since William and Ronald were taken away from her. Not because she's worried, she reminds herself. But what is she meant to do, with no one interesting to talk to? She spends her nights killing monsters, and her days dreaming up newer, bloodier ways of carrying out her little murders. The past few days, she hasn't been able to escape the thought that she's going about this all wrong. The monsters are no fun. Her fellow tower citizens, though... Now, there's an idea.
An idea that won't go away (not that she tries hard to fight it). Today, it seems particularly strong. In fact, within the last few minutes, it's risen like a fever pitch, in her mind. What have the monsters ever done to her? Nothing. And the other inhabitants of the tower? Everything. Every single one of them should be writhing in pain, in place of William and Ronald. Every single one of them owes her the entertainment, the company, that her friends can't currently provide.
Now I'm REALLY back! /sobbing into hands
The minute he hears the clicking of her heels, his senses are already called to attention. Even more when the chainsaw comes up. The minute it does, he lets his cigarette fall from his fingers. The ash circles around him, following the pattern of a magical array he'd set into place just in time to prevent the blade from coming down via a timely magical barrier. His eyes are wild under the momentary flash of purple upon impact as he strains to draw energy from his attacker, just to keep the barrier up a moment more and they glow with a strange light from the flavor.
Death.
He tastes it on her aura and her brimming energy.
Death.
He knows the taste of it well.
"How ironic that you should tell me to look alive." the doctor replies, the light in his eyes dying down once more. The barrier flares, however, attempting to push Grell away a good enough distance to give him some room to maneuver.