SABER. (nero claudius caesar augustus germanicus) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nohurryforglory) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2012-10-11 02:01 am
nohurryforglory) wrote in towerofanimus2012-10-11 02:01 am
in the end it doesn't even matter!!
Characters: Saber and YOU!!!
Setting: Room 1-01, floor 22, and floor 15
Format: Starting with action, but I'll match what others reply with!
Summary: Clearly the tower doesn't have enough Sabers.
Warnings: Likely to have spoilers for Fate/Extra I guess?!
ROOM 1-01;
[It's one thing to wake up out of sleep paralysis. It's another to wake up in an unknown room. It was another just to even wake up given all that had happened, but all of those things were just minor details in Saber's mind as she stood up and looked around. More importantly, she looked at herself.
And what she was wearing.
Sorry roommates, if you were sleeping or just happened to be chilling in the room, there is now one ungodly and furious screech coming from the newest member of the room.]
FLOOR 22: ART GALLERY;
[Obviously the thing to do when you wake up somewhere weird is check the place out, right? Find out where she is, where she can go, if there's anything neat around here--all that stuff. In this case though, a certain newcomer seems a little too invested in investigating the tower...
Or in other words, Saber can be found critiquing the pieces in the art gallery i.e. yelling loudly about how much better she'd be able to do.]
To think this is what they call art in some worlds! Had I but a brush and a canvas, I would paint a masterpiece finer than anything this dreadful tower has ever seen. Umu, to not enlighten those here with what true beauty is would be the greatest tragedy.
FLOOR 15: WORKSHOP;
[And sadly enough, that's exactly what she does... After scouring the tower in search of material, Saber ends up in the workshop with a few different canvases in front of her. Curiously enough, the subject of the paintings seems to be the same person, albeit in different poses and unfinished states.]
What an unsightly state this is. To capture Praetor's beauty in paint is far more difficult than I had imagined. There are too many ideas, too much inspiration! If a picture is worth a thousand words, a thousand paintings would never be enough for her. [That's one way to worship the ground someone walks on... Regardless, she continues to speak aloud to herself while painting.] However, as difficult as this may be, a challenge shall only make it all the more rewarding. After all, I am the only one capable of completing such a challenge!
Setting: Room 1-01, floor 22, and floor 15
Format: Starting with action, but I'll match what others reply with!
Summary: Clearly the tower doesn't have enough Sabers.
Warnings: Likely to have spoilers for Fate/Extra I guess?!
ROOM 1-01;
[It's one thing to wake up out of sleep paralysis. It's another to wake up in an unknown room. It was another just to even wake up given all that had happened, but all of those things were just minor details in Saber's mind as she stood up and looked around. More importantly, she looked at herself.
And what she was wearing.
Sorry roommates, if you were sleeping or just happened to be chilling in the room, there is now one ungodly and furious screech coming from the newest member of the room.]
FLOOR 22: ART GALLERY;
[Obviously the thing to do when you wake up somewhere weird is check the place out, right? Find out where she is, where she can go, if there's anything neat around here--all that stuff. In this case though, a certain newcomer seems a little too invested in investigating the tower...
Or in other words, Saber can be found critiquing the pieces in the art gallery i.e. yelling loudly about how much better she'd be able to do.]
To think this is what they call art in some worlds! Had I but a brush and a canvas, I would paint a masterpiece finer than anything this dreadful tower has ever seen. Umu, to not enlighten those here with what true beauty is would be the greatest tragedy.
FLOOR 15: WORKSHOP;
[And sadly enough, that's exactly what she does... After scouring the tower in search of material, Saber ends up in the workshop with a few different canvases in front of her. Curiously enough, the subject of the paintings seems to be the same person, albeit in different poses and unfinished states.]
What an unsightly state this is. To capture Praetor's beauty in paint is far more difficult than I had imagined. There are too many ideas, too much inspiration! If a picture is worth a thousand words, a thousand paintings would never be enough for her. [That's one way to worship the ground someone walks on... Regardless, she continues to speak aloud to herself while painting.] However, as difficult as this may be, a challenge shall only make it all the more rewarding. After all, I am the only one capable of completing such a challenge!
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Suddenly, tl;dr
*He takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly, mentally preparing himself to yet again relate the worst of what he's experienced. He gathers his words. It's easier, after telling other people these things, to simply say the words and think of something else. Everything he tells her is, in some form, something he has said before.*
The twenty first level isn't serving this month, but normally it serves food of a higher quality than the first. But it has a price. You must pay with an item they request within twenty four hours. I thought it would be simple. How difficult could it be to find something in an enclosed tower, after all? But I searched through the night...three nights, in fact; they're generous enough to not hold time... *his voice breaks, and wavers over the next two words.* ...spent dead against their guests. I never found what they wanted me to bring them. At first, I thought nothing had happened to me, when time ran out. I thought they might have forgotten about me. But when I began feeling weak and dizzy, I made my way back to my room, and learned through a friend with the power to sense it that one of my kidneys had vanished. I had never been approached, much less cut open.
*It isn't all of it. There's something worse, something in the middle of that he never said. But he needs to gather himself again. Despite his automatic retelling, he couldn't hide the waver in his voice, and a sense of fatigue permeated his tone throughout the entire story.*
THIS IS SO LATE I'M SO SORRY SCREAMS
... I am sorry that happened to you. [And she's sincere in that.] A consequence such as that deserves due warning, not simply allowing one to discover it for themselves when it is too late.
It's okay I'm slow too
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