long haired baby got a record machine (
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.
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.

Cafeteria
Then he sees Grell with the chainsaw an stops, holding the bowl of oatmeal while doing so. He blinks, already sensing some hostility from the woman. Still, he at least tries to play innocent, looking around himself.
"There something here that needs slashing or something?"
Floor 29, heading up to floor 30. (Grell may want to take this back down into the garden maze though
Luckily for him, this rupee wasn't very smart; he finds it on the step just inside the thirtieth floor.
When he closes his hand around it, a female voice speaks faintly.
"They became the Freemen.
The Fallen Angels-..."
"Quiet," he whispers, looking surprised for a moment when it does stop. Enoch pockets it quickly and straightens up...to see a long-haired woman with a strange object(weapon?) coming down the other way. Enoch politely steps back down to the previous floor and turns sideways so she can pass.
((ooc: Sorry for this novel of a tag.))
Re: Cafeteria
"There's always something that needs slashing," she sneered through her very pointy teeth. "Tell me - what have you been up to, lately?" If he's been in the pods, he's guilty as Ciel and everyone else, for not keeping her friends safe.
Re: Floor 29, heading up to floor 30.
When she comes into view, she gives the man a little finger wave, with her free hand. "What's a handsome guy like you doing in this corner of the world?" she asks, with a lilt in her voice, as if she's being pleasant. But what she really wants to know is, if she heard a female voice, from around the corner, where is the speaker, now?
Re: Floor 29, heading up to floor 30.
Re: Cafeteria
"Oh I don't know, appearing here at friggin random and all that," he spoke. "Was hopin' the food would be better, and hoping to piss off a few of my buddies today, but that ain't happening."
Floor 20! Nice open air~ Can shift to floor 31 eventually!
Floor twenty was today's target.
He surveys the area, glancing off at the ramp where his cigarettes had been precariously placed before drawing out the case to light one for himself. The nicotine helped him think. Of course the thief wouldn't come back. He'd already scowered this entire floor himself. With a sigh, he lets out a drag and turns to go. But he isn't alone now, is he? He's aware of a second presence, one that seems particularly strong and smells of death quite literally and figuratively. It sets him on edge but sure as hell he isn't about to show it just yet. Instead he'll wait for it to pass or confront it if it wishes to be confronted. At any rate, it would be a good test to see if his catalysts were tampered in any way during the time they had disappeared.
[sorry tagging has been slow! i should be a little faster, now]
"Are your buddies here?" she asked him, pleasantly enough, casually swinging her chainsaw down from her shoulder. It might be pertinent to know, if anyone was likely to coming running to try and back this kid up, if she took a swing at him. Although, given how many people were still absent from the tower, it seemed unlikely.
Re: Floor 20! Nice open air~ Can shift to floor 31 eventually!
And that just makes her want to take them from him, and hoard them away, whether she manages to get her chainsaw into him, or not.
The click-click-click of her heels intensifies, as she rounds the curve of the ramp, and comes upon her smoking friend. She laughs, a high, clear, noise, as if he had been privy to her thoughts. "Oh, you're handsome, too. This is going to be so much more fun than I thought. Look alive!" she cries, over the revving of her chainsaw, which she swings toward him, in a broad arc.
((Woohoo, you're back! Let's get right into it.))
no subject
"Alright, so what do you want? Usually when people wanna kill me, they kinda give a bit of a speech or just get on with it."
And curse his impatience to hell.
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.