Enoch (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
warriorscribe) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2012-10-19 04:02 pm
warriorscribe) wrote in towerofanimus2012-10-19 04:02 pm
Entry tags:
Nice guys die first
Characters: Enoch and anyone (and one locked thread for Enoch and Taiki)
Setting: October 14, midday, floor 32(locked); October 15, midday - October 20th, anywhere else, various floors (open)
Format: I'm starting in prose but it doesn't matter.
Summary: Enoch got himself killed by a monster! He'll slowly bleed to death on the forest floor and come back in a rather blinding state
Warnings: He may try to kill people. He's going to try his best to resist for the most part but will finally break around the 20th. Please include the day in your post or its subject so I know how far along he is, please!
Oct. 14, Floor 32
(Locked tonotagiraffe)
Not having his armor proved disastrous. For the grand majority of problems, Enoch was well built, and his muscle provided adequate protection as well as power. Not as good as his armor would, but his leg armor had a tendency to painfully pinch bare skin when he moved in it. It was made for being worn over something. Maybe he could have done something about that.
But it didn't matter now. Now that there was a thin black stinger lodged in his chest, some of the Parasite Bee's abdomen still attached to it, cut clean through with the Arch. Somehow, it had gotten right through his ribs, just the right spot. He'd tried pulling it out, a poor move, but it had been lodged in well, and the pain had been warning enough to stop. It didn't matter now, now that he'd made his way up to this floor. This floor that nullified his powers, surrounded by other floors that did the same. He'd die before he could be moved to a floor where he could be healed magically.
Enoch carefully turned himself over in the small pile of rain-slick leaves that had broken his fall, staring up at the cloudy thunder-charged sky. With the wind whipping across his face and carrying falling leaves to land on his body, with the rain, water, source of life, falling on his skin and soaking his hair, his skirt, his wings...
It was almost peaceful, blood loss making all his worries fuzzy and far away.
Oct. 15, Floor 1
Well, that was rude of the tower, to not bring him back for breakfast. But then, there was a third meal here for some reason. Enoch seemed to be taking his transformation rather well, though you'd only be able to see it's him from the corner of your eye - he emitted a rather bright light that only seemed brighter the more directly he was looked at.
But here he sat, his expression one of curiosity as he chewed roasted pumpkin seeds slowly one by one. He was practicing stretching and folding his wings, flaring their feathers and testing their range of movement. He'd been turned into a swan before, so he had an idea of how they felt, though these weren't really attached in the most intuitive of places...
So far, all seemed well. He may appear to have a shorter temper than normal, but really, who wouldn't?
Any day, Floor 10
Where did all these violent urges come from? Why was his temper so short? He'd had his mind altered in Meridian, and he'd become fiercely overprotective of Armaros, to an unhealthy degree. But then, he hadn't been entirely aware of it. Because it had built on things that already existed, he hadn't noticed. Now...he knew some things weren't wrong in context. Or were wrong but were forgivable. Or simply couldn't be avoided. But just thinking about the people he knew who had done wrong, it made his hand twitch as if automatically reaching for the Arch.
It was why he'd come to frequent this place throughout the week. It was calming, even if it still tugged at his heartstrings with its association with Armaros.
Armaros...who had betrayed Heaven...
A hiss escaped his lips as he tried to banish the thought. To focus his wrath on the administrators that had planted this madness in him. This anger, this intolerance, this destruction of his capacity for love, this desire to kill...
Oct. 18, Floor 15
It was maddening. The urge to give in to his shortened temper was going to take over if he didn't do something else. Something that required careful attention.
That's why he'd taken up this task. Enoch held a length of cloth across his lap, carefully cutting out the pattern of something. Or perhaps one would encounter him as he was sewing it, his wings twitching uncomfortably as he resisted the urge to watch the world around him.
Any day, anywhere else
Enoch otherwise roamed the tower as normal. His room had always felt too much a cage, too much replacement of the bed in Meridian, the home he had with someone he cared for. And he never wanted to think of it as where he lived. It was where he slept and nothing more.
But every so often, he'd think of something he'd seen or knew someone had done, and he'd retreat from where traffic was, finding a corner or somewhere to keep himself away from the one he wanted to kill in cold blood. Even as his own mind nagged at him, told him they weren't innocent, louder and louder as the week wore on...
Setting: October 14, midday, floor 32(locked); October 15, midday - October 20th, anywhere else, various floors (open)
Format: I'm starting in prose but it doesn't matter.
Summary: Enoch got himself killed by a monster! He'll slowly bleed to death on the forest floor and come back in a rather blinding state
Warnings: He may try to kill people. He's going to try his best to resist for the most part but will finally break around the 20th. Please include the day in your post or its subject so I know how far along he is, please!
Oct. 14, Floor 32
(Locked to
notagiraffe)Not having his armor proved disastrous. For the grand majority of problems, Enoch was well built, and his muscle provided adequate protection as well as power. Not as good as his armor would, but his leg armor had a tendency to painfully pinch bare skin when he moved in it. It was made for being worn over something. Maybe he could have done something about that.
But it didn't matter now. Now that there was a thin black stinger lodged in his chest, some of the Parasite Bee's abdomen still attached to it, cut clean through with the Arch. Somehow, it had gotten right through his ribs, just the right spot. He'd tried pulling it out, a poor move, but it had been lodged in well, and the pain had been warning enough to stop. It didn't matter now, now that he'd made his way up to this floor. This floor that nullified his powers, surrounded by other floors that did the same. He'd die before he could be moved to a floor where he could be healed magically.
Enoch carefully turned himself over in the small pile of rain-slick leaves that had broken his fall, staring up at the cloudy thunder-charged sky. With the wind whipping across his face and carrying falling leaves to land on his body, with the rain, water, source of life, falling on his skin and soaking his hair, his skirt, his wings...
It was almost peaceful, blood loss making all his worries fuzzy and far away.
Oct. 15, Floor 1
Well, that was rude of the tower, to not bring him back for breakfast. But then, there was a third meal here for some reason. Enoch seemed to be taking his transformation rather well, though you'd only be able to see it's him from the corner of your eye - he emitted a rather bright light that only seemed brighter the more directly he was looked at.
But here he sat, his expression one of curiosity as he chewed roasted pumpkin seeds slowly one by one. He was practicing stretching and folding his wings, flaring their feathers and testing their range of movement. He'd been turned into a swan before, so he had an idea of how they felt, though these weren't really attached in the most intuitive of places...
So far, all seemed well. He may appear to have a shorter temper than normal, but really, who wouldn't?
Any day, Floor 10
Where did all these violent urges come from? Why was his temper so short? He'd had his mind altered in Meridian, and he'd become fiercely overprotective of Armaros, to an unhealthy degree. But then, he hadn't been entirely aware of it. Because it had built on things that already existed, he hadn't noticed. Now...he knew some things weren't wrong in context. Or were wrong but were forgivable. Or simply couldn't be avoided. But just thinking about the people he knew who had done wrong, it made his hand twitch as if automatically reaching for the Arch.
It was why he'd come to frequent this place throughout the week. It was calming, even if it still tugged at his heartstrings with its association with Armaros.
Armaros...who had betrayed Heaven...
A hiss escaped his lips as he tried to banish the thought. To focus his wrath on the administrators that had planted this madness in him. This anger, this intolerance, this destruction of his capacity for love, this desire to kill...
Oct. 18, Floor 15
It was maddening. The urge to give in to his shortened temper was going to take over if he didn't do something else. Something that required careful attention.
That's why he'd taken up this task. Enoch held a length of cloth across his lap, carefully cutting out the pattern of something. Or perhaps one would encounter him as he was sewing it, his wings twitching uncomfortably as he resisted the urge to watch the world around him.
Any day, anywhere else
Enoch otherwise roamed the tower as normal. His room had always felt too much a cage, too much replacement of the bed in Meridian, the home he had with someone he cared for. And he never wanted to think of it as where he lived. It was where he slept and nothing more.
But every so often, he'd think of something he'd seen or knew someone had done, and he'd retreat from where traffic was, finding a corner or somewhere to keep himself away from the one he wanted to kill in cold blood. Even as his own mind nagged at him, told him they weren't innocent, louder and louder as the week wore on...
no subject
He tried building up the strength to turn himself over again, though, to pull himself on Taiki's back. It just didn't work, he couldn't get over the obstacle his own shoulder provided. He was weakening quickly.
He'd miss the candy's quota, he knew, in the time delay it would take for him to resurrect. He wasn't terribly worried about it, mostly because he just didn't have the blood in his system to dwell on such thoughts.
His hands clumsily worked at the gauze belt around his waist, that secured his pumpkin to his side. Taiki had given him some of this, after all. He wouldn't simply let it go to waste.
"Where...where's your basket?"
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"It's here... I have some candy... maybe it will be enough to fill yours up... I can always get more!"
Because he didn't want him to die but if he had to die, then Taiki didn't want him to be turned.
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"I won't put you and your king in more danger. Take mine...I gathered thirteen more."
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"Please, Taiki. You're...you're young, you don't deserve what...the tower will do to you. I want to help protect you."
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"I wont... I promise..."
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It was a weak whisper, and with the lack of strength in his voice, Enoch stopped trying to draw more breath than that, his breathing going shallow, as if near sleep.
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"Good... I'm sorry I couldn't put your gift to use."
He closed his eyes and waited for his consciousness to slip away. It certainly would be a more peaceful death than some he'd had here, with the cool rain and the outside air giving him some illusion of freedom, if only for a moment where he didn't have the capacity to recall where exactly he was.
no subject