1st String | Exploring the Tower

[dance_mypuppets]

Characters: Kankuro and YOU!
Setting: Room 3-06, various other points of interest.
Format: Starting out with prose, but I'll follow your lead if you'd rather action tags.
Summary: A really grumpy puppeteer wakes up and explores.
Warnings: Pottymouth? Will update as appropriate.

[Room 3-06]

Well, that was one of the more unpleasant awakenings Kankuro had experienced in his life -- and he'd had more than his fair share! Sleep paralysis, his mind informed him, even as he looked about the room to get his bearings. Not something he'd ever felt before. If he was lucky, he never would again.

But that paled in importance next to the location. This was not where he'd left the war! Nor was it his cramped but familiar room in the Facility...

So it wasn't home, wasn't the Facility -- this was somewhere else altogether, some new fresh hell he would have to learn and endure. And one where it looked like he wouldn't even have the same level of privacy, if the other beds in the room were any indication. He wouldn't have that refuge of locking himself away from everyone.

He forced himself to calm, to push aside the thought of roommates as a minor irritation, inspecting the room around him more thoroughly. The trunks at the foot of the bed -- he would explore his in a moment. These letters, meanwhile...

He picked them up and started to read, and only a minute or so later had his conclusion.

"Bullshit."

[Cafeteria]

Dressed and painted up, it was time to head out. The first stop? Food.

So this was it for his first meal, huh? Kankuro stared at the bowl of oatmeal, making a decidedly unimpressed face at it. It didn't seem all that impressed by him, either. Truth be told, he was reassured, in a vague sort of sideways way, at how unappetizing it looked. He'd grown up with desert legends full of the dangers of enchanted food offered in unnatural realms, food that transformed you or bound you away from your people and your home, but those legends always went out of their way to cast the food as seductively appetizing. The whole point was you wanted to eat it, enough that you didn't think about the dangers or the consequences. This? Well, if it was meant to be temptation, it was doing a piss-poor job of it, in his estimation. He wouldn't feed this crap to a jackal.

Though maybe this place just believed in the stick, rather than the carrot. Forcing you to starve to death or vomit up anything else you ate until you dug into the oatmeal... well, he would have to eat sooner or later. Starving to death over and over didn't exactly sound like his idea of dealing with another twisted, unnatural imprisonment.

He stuck the spoon in the mess, then stirred it around a few times. Food wasn't supposed to look like that, like some lump of half-watered clay...

[The Art Gallery]

Now that he'd eaten, Kankuro was set to do some exploring. This place was a hell of a lot more extensive than his last torture chamber away from home, and as a consequence, he's warier. There's a big mass of something wrapped in white and carried by a strap slung over his shoulder -- for those who know him, yes, he's gone back to his old way of carrying a puppet around for this first session of exploring, and those who know him well can probably guess at why.
He found his way to the art gallery, and decided to take a look through it. At first, it was just a curiosity, whetted by his interest in all things artistic. Much of the art showed him worlds far different from his own, some of them filled with fantastic machines or warriors. That was pretty cool. And art in general did fascinate him. But as he kept moving deeper into the gallery, through the maze of walls set up to display the most art possible, he noted the paintings getting darker, more twisted, more grotesque.

For a while, it didn't bother him. He was hardened to a lot -- both as a ninja, and as a child growing up watching his psychotic little brother squish people who annoyed him. Hell, the twisted Akasuna puppets were his favorites, ever since he was a little apprentice picking out his very first. He liked dark and ugly.

But then he came face to face with an image he couldn't make himself enjoy. His own face stared at him blankly from the canvas, brilliant purple paint in the same design he'd brushed onto his skin not two hours ago laid here not over flesh but over finely-polished wood -- a joined mouth with a faint hint of metal gleaming from between the barely-parted lips -- inhuman glass eyes full of mute horror.

It was his nightmare from the Facility all over again, and he recoiled with a quick, shaking few steps and a faint clatter of puppet joints.

[The Cathedral]

Well, this was better than the art gallery -- and better than most of the other floors, at least so far as he can tell. His world didn't have buildings like this, but all the same, something about it appealed to him, and he paused there, staying close to the staircase, just listening to the wordless murmurs and taking in the majestic structure. Here, he could pause and just try to let his thoughts settle a little.

The murmurs didn't faze him much; he wasn't moving far, and the murmurs stayed murmured, the feeling of the invisible, silent presences keeping their attention off him. A good place to find a puppeteer with his mysterious bundle.

Comments

[Art Gallery]

[fifth_kazekage]

He didn’t know what had compelled him to wander near the art gallery on this day. He had avoided the place ever since the first time it came into existence. It reminded him too much of…

As usual, his steps quickened to pass right by, until he suddenly stopped in the middle of the hallway.

It was faint, and for all he knew, he could be delusional, but… something was startlingly familiar about this sensation.

A chakra signature. A ninja from his world.

Or was it? Could it be nothing more than a figment of his imagination?

Given his experience with mental manipulation from both the facility and this tower, Gaara was starting to doubt himself on more and more occasions. The loneliness and extreme measures of isolation might be hindering his senses. He wasn’t completely sure what he believed in anymore, especially after his last encounter with his Shadow.

And yet, he couldn’t leave the silent question unanswered, so he entered the art gallery after a moment of hesitation, and drew closer to that chakra signature.

[Art Gallery]

[dance_mypuppets]

The eyes of the painting seemed to follow Kankuro as he moved back the way he came, quick steps in the echoing silence of the gallery. That... no. No. That didn't belong here -- didn't belong anywhere. Why...

Because. He stopped, forced himself back into something more closely resembling a true puppeteer's control and calm. He had to master himself! Whatever this place was, it was meant to fuck with him. That painting... that was meant to fuck with him, too. Maybe it wasn't even real. A genjutsu? Something that would show anyone their own nightmares?

Slowly, he calmed -- and as he did, he noticed what he'd been too distracted to pick up on before. Chakra signature approaching. A familiar one, huge but controlled, an almost-scent of ozone and dry air.

Was that...?

He moved forward, fingers tight on the strap over his shoulder, until he caught sight of a figure in the maze of gallery walls.

"... Gaara?"

[Art Gallery]

[fifth_kazekage]

His eyes widened at hearing the voice – it was unmistakable. And actually seeing him stopped Gaara right in his tracks. The sand inside his gourd abruptly hit the inner wall at the abrupt motion.

“Kankuro…”

Then the light in his eyes dimmed as he remembered the voices that had called to him from the shadows. Monsters on the higher floors were quite skilled at withering the guard of their opponents by taunting them with past memories. Though, they had never taken full shape like this before. Not that Gaara thought the tower administrators weren’t capable of creating stronger and smarter monsters.

“......”

He took a few steps forward, and then hesitated to go any further. Was this really his brother? And if so, did he come from the facility, or their original world? Uncertainty drew a slight frown over his brows as the redhead mentally searched for an appropriate response.

“Does the word ‘Consortium’ hold any significance to you?”

[Art Gallery]

[dance_mypuppets]

As much as it was a question to identify Kankuro, the words identified Gaara for him, too -- he had no way of knowing for sure that the people who'd brought him here didn't know about the Consortium and every-fucking-thing they did, but something told him that this wasn't it. Wasn't a trick of theirs.

The painted face spread in a sharp-edged grin, one that the Wind deserts had never seen. A face the Facility had created in him.

"It holds the significance of 'may they all rot in the deepest hells,' little brother."

[Art Gallery]

[fifth_kazekage]

Then… he does remember me, he realized, feeling slightly less tense, but… was he told the truth before the Doctors terminated him?

Gaara nodded somberly in response, his gaze staying locked onto the puppeteer. On the outside, he appeared stoic as ever, seemingly unaffected by his brother’s unexpected appearance. He was numb; he didn’t know how to react. He could feel something stirring within him, faint emotions that he had stubbornly worked to suppress since his abduction to the tower. Part of his mind still wondered if this was a dream generated by desperation and longing.

That didn’t, however, stop him from being his usual perceptive self, especially around someone he knew so well. “Are you all right?” He chanced a quick glance over Kankuro’s shadow, as if expecting a monster to emerge from behind him. “This place… may not be safe. We should speak elsewhere.”

[Art Gallery]

[dance_mypuppets]

"All right... tch. That's a pretty relative term, isn't it?" Kankuro snorted. Sure, he was all right -- if you count waking up in a totally strange place, being told your world was gone (which he still considered to be bullshit on the highest order), being force-fed that nasty old slop of oatmeal, and wandering through a tower filled with all kinds of horrors...

Yeah. All right. Sure.

He stepped closer to Gaara, then paused, grinning. "Safer. Is that a real thing, here? I'm getting the impression otherwise." But with his brother around... He added quickly, "Gimme a sec."

The wrapped bundle on his back twisted and flexed, then split apart; the real Kankuro stepped out of it, and dismissed the henge on Karasu with a flick of his fingers.

"If you're here, I guess I can be a bit less cagey," he said to his brother. "Lead on."

[Art Gallery]

[fifth_kazekage]

His response was automatic, “I will protect you.”

Immediately after saying that, Gaara blinked rapidly, startled. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been in that position. When did he and his siblings see each other at the facility? Over a year ago, was what Ishtar had told him…

“There are… deadlier monsters on the higher floors of this tower,” he warned Kankuro as he turned around and led him away from the gallery, “New types are continuously introduced. The experiments here occur less frequently than at the facility. The collar around your neck – you need to receive maintenance on a specific day, depending on the color.”

He headed toward the residential area, looking around for somewhere quiet and secluded. He didn’t fear fighting the monsters, but interruptions would just kill his patience at this point in time. Kankuro likely had a few questions for him, questions that others didn’t need to hear.

Also… he would need to tell his brother the truth about what they were. That would be the most difficult part.

[Art Gallery]

[dance_mypuppets]

Just as glad to be quit of the gallery, Kankuro followed his brother willingly, letting Karasu drape over his shoulders like some sort of wooden cape. His oldest friend, this.

"Great. So instead of constant experiments, it's occasional experiments and crazy monsters. And crazy paintings, and fucked-up floors and whatever else this place has." He could have been bitching about the weather -- but then, he wasn't really one to let on when he had a real problem, not until it was dragged out of him.

There were plenty of things he wanted to ask Gaara, and things he hoped to hear. And things he hoped not to.

[Art Gallery]

[fifth_kazekage]

His small smile was a wry one, humorless. “Did you really expect a peaceful locale, Kankuro? The Doctors… they never promised any prosperity.” That was an understatement.

Peaceful…

On a sudden impulse, he briefly closed his eyes and teleported both of them to the twenty-fifth floor, where there was a quiet, seemingly harmless meadow. It was unoccupied at present. A fitting setting for news that might be disturbing.

They stood next to each other, and here, under much better lighting, Gaara studied his brother more closely. He didn’t look any different from the last time he remembered seeing him, but he knew from experience that mental scars were usually concealed.

“…Temari isn't here," he revealed, his gaze staring forth blankly, "She may still be at the facility. ...How long did you remain there? After my termination.”

[Cafeteria]

[thereisnopie]

[A scrawny boy with three scars across his face and a mop of black hair will just be hopping up onto the table to join the newcomer.

He's actually started to get a bit tired of pumpkin, and he's the only one in the world that would be glad to find out something like that, he's sure. It makes things feel more real.

Gamzee peers at Kankuro's paint curiously and with little regard to how the other teen might feel about it.]

Really digging the face, brother. Got you some wicked ass purple all up on there.

[Cafeteria]

[dance_mypuppets]

[Up onto the table? Well, here's someone who gives no fucks, clearly. Kankuro cocks an eyebrow at him, watching cautiously. The part of his brain that's always assessing combat possibilities -- the part that's an elite ninja, the Kazekage's bodyguard -- reminds him that the guy on the table, him sitting, puts him at a disadvantage. But it doesn't look like violence is in the offing, so he just shrugs.]

It's what I do. [Is the guy actually being serious, or making fun of him? He's actually not sure.] Just something a little different.

[Cafeteria]

[thereisnopie]

I like it, bro. Speaks all unto my motherfuckin' soul.

[And he's completely serious. Because who doesn't get all up in people's faces to ask them about their make-up?]

And how all's it talk for you? Beliefs or pleasure? You ain't painted as a follower of our most mirthful of messiahs.

[Cafeteria]

[dance_mypuppets]

[Man, and people used to tell Kankuro back home that he talked funny. The theatre dialect's got nothing on this guy.]

It's all about the art, yanno. No... messiah, whatever's, got an interest in me. [In fact he's not entirely sure what a messiah is supposed to be.]

[Cafeteria]

[thereisnopie]

Art? I can dig that.

[He nods in understanding.]

What all sorts of art does a bro like you get up to?

[Cafeteria]

[dance_mypuppets]

Just about anyone can dig art, if they've got a care to.

[Kankuro grins, tips his head back.]

Me? I'm all about the performance, man. Gimme a stage, and a little something to make dance for all the people...

[Cafeteria]

[thereisnopie]

Shiiiit yeah!

[Gamzee scoots over so he's sitting a little more neatly on the edge of the table next to where Kankuro is.]

That all's where the best is at. Been all kinda wantin' to take things up performance-like on my own. [A little juggling, maybe. Rolling around on a one-wheeled device... Whatever the human word for that is.]

[Cafeteria]

[dance_mypuppets]

Zat so? What're you good at, huh?

[Because you gotta start with some level of natural talent, even if you don't know what to do yet. Kankuro's still not sure of this guy, but so far, he's pretty entertaining.]

[Cafeteria]

[heavenspear]

"You shouldn't play with your food," said Ken. He took a seat a little ways away from Kankurou, setting his own bowl of oatmeal down in front of himself and digging a spoon into the glop.

"It'll probably taste worse if you let it sit." And then, following his own advice, he spooned a big glob of oatmeal into his mouth. He swallowed it without really bothering to chew, figuring that it'd be a little more palatable if he didn't stop to give his taste buds a chance to register what he was bolting down.

[Cafeteria]

[dance_mypuppets]

... Man. Kids -- Kankuro always did run into the annoying ones, didn't he? He gave Ken a bored look, and deliberately stirred his oatmeal around more.

"Doesn't mean I gotta be enthusiastic about this crap," he pointed out, letting his spoon fall with a clack against the side of the bowl. "This barely looks like food at all."

Re: [Cafeteria]

[heavenspear]

Ken said nothing. If Kankuro preferred complaining about his food to getting it over with quickly, it was his decision. He concentrated instead on gulping down the oatmeal as fast as he could. Occasionally, he stopped for a quick drink to wash it all down.

[Cafeteria]

[dance_mypuppets]

Finally, with a grimace, Kankuro decided to buckle down and eat it. Couldn't be worse than field rations, right?

... After a few bites, he was pretty unsure of that. But it wasn't much worse than field rations, anyway. Enough that he could manage it without too much drama.

Still, nasty!

Re: [Cafeteria]

[heavenspear]

Finishing his oatmeal, Ken got up to find himself a carton of milk -- but found only "pumpkin milk", which he hadn't even known existed. He opened the container to give it a try anyway, and immediately made a face at the unexpected taste. Still, it was milk (unless it was like soy milk in that no dairy was involved), so he began to choke that down, too.

[Cafeteria]

[dance_mypuppets]

At least it wasn't ration bars forever and always. Kankuro contemplated that, then decided with an internal sigh that it might have been easier if he'd come straight from the Facility, rather than going home first. At least back home, even as part of an army in the field, he'd eaten better. All of his troops had, but privilege of command especially had gotten him some extra treats.

Here, though? He finished his oatmeal with grim determination. Had to eat, after all.

Re: [Cafeteria]

[heavenspear]

Ken finished the small carton and somewhat reluctantly went to get another. He didn't even like milk that much under normal circumstances, but one had to make sacrifices in order to grow taller. Many, many sacrifices.

He opened the carton and, face grim, began to drink.

[Cafeteria]

[dance_mypuppets]

Grumpily, Kankuro did finish his oatmeal -- and after that, was feeling pretty fed up with the whole eating process. Maybe later he'd do more, but for the moment -- eurgh, done.