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...
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This was proving to be a good distraction, at least. "To think writing would evolve so much..."
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Tohko smiled. "That's the great thing about stories. Just one can change a genre, make a new genre, create new tropes and ideas to play around with, and spawn a thousand great stories, who create glorious stories in turn. There's so many ways stories can be made and changed that it's mind-blowing, in a good way!" She gushed. She wasn't called the book girl for nothing.
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"A harder question to answer than it sounds. I'm the sixth from Adam."
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"If we're both talking about the first man God created, yes."
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However, since this didn't seem to bother Enoch-who was the sixth from Adam, if Tohko remembered correctly-she wasn't going to let it bother her either. "I see. I guess you're older than you look than!" She replied, chuckling nervously. She really hoped she wasn't prying or that the guy had forced himself to give away a big secret.
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"You would be right..."
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"I see..hey, if I forced to to reveal a secret or something, I do apologize. If it'll make you feel better..I'll give you a secret too."
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"...It wasn't a secret, no. Not to anyone here. It's only..." He sighed. "...I was never prepared to be immortal. I wasn't meant to be."
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"...It's good you're so well-read. Not very many understand immediately like you did."
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They never think about others leaving them behind. Never think of never being given the respect due the old, never think of watching their children age and die...
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Tohko knew that this was a big risk. If he asked how they understood her, than the jig was up. But Tohko liked this guy. She felt that if she showed him her secret..he may be able to understand, and even if he couldn't do that, he could as least keep quiet about it.
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"You find yourself separated from other people in some way?"
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"I do. It's..hard to explain in words, so I'll show you." Carefully, Tohko opened up The Master and Margarita, ripped out the page where Yeshua said that there were no bad people in the world, closed her eyes, and ate it. As she chewed, she happily spoke of it's flavors.
"Ahh..this tastes like a delicious, warm, apple wine with some cold, spicy meat! I love this page. Pilate is just awestruck by what Yeshua says, and the reaction just makes a delicious dish!~"
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"What are you doing!?"
Despite all logic that told him that paper and writing was in abundance here...
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"To me, normal food, like bread and cheese, tastes like sand to me. Only books taste like something to me. That is how I differ from people."
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His fists clenched, but not in anger; his body was shaking, and he took a step back, raising both hands to his head. He was angry enough to attack, to kill, that wasn't right...
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It was here that Tohko ran out of the room, tears down her cheeks. Her father's words echoed in her head.
'Tohko, if anyone other than your author sees you like that, they may not understand.'
How could she have been so foolish? How could she have been so stupid? Just because he was an immortal who felt out of step didn't mean that he would understand either!
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