Jin Shirato (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
morituramfides) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2012-11-26 12:02 am
morituramfides) wrote in towerofanimus2012-11-26 12:02 am
Delete File?
Characters: Jin Shirato and OPEN
Setting: Floor 43, any day after the Ruana network post
Format: starting in prose, but I can switch to action if you're prefer!
Summary: After speaking with Ruana, Jin has to cool down and creates a daily ritual for himself.
Warnings: Science trauma and Jin being Jin.
Jin was perfectly well aware that nothing he could do to the building was permanent; significant damage would also just bestow punishment for his efforts. But there's of course a point when you stop caring about whatever the Tower can dish out, and after it transform you into a rabid and horrifying facsimile of a jungle cat, you've passed that point. Besides, Sayaka was right; he'd needed to get away from the computer long before he had actually gotten away from it.
His head was still spinning, and he felt a bit sick (the same sort of ill that had come at the end of the summer he'd wager), but here he stood on the 43rd floor, standing outside one specific jail cell; one with a number plate that read "037." For a long time it just seemed like he was staring vacantly at it, even though his mind was racing.
And then eventually Jin snapped out of his own reverie, took out a screwdriver from his pocket, jammed it under the plate and pried the numbered plate off the wall after quite a bit of effort. The physically strongest he wasn't, but he kept pushing until it finally popped off.
Of course, it would come back the next day, and again Jin'd be on the 43rd floor, rather prying the plate off or carving into it to scrape off the number and make it illegible. It almost became a ritual every day, stopping down there on the way down to find something to do, and it'd be easy to find him idling about in front of the jail cell with a screwdriver in hand.
He had no idea what his own opinion was on her anymore, but he still felt like doing this much.
Setting: Floor 43, any day after the Ruana network post
Format: starting in prose, but I can switch to action if you're prefer!
Summary: After speaking with Ruana, Jin has to cool down and creates a daily ritual for himself.
Warnings: Science trauma and Jin being Jin.
Jin was perfectly well aware that nothing he could do to the building was permanent; significant damage would also just bestow punishment for his efforts. But there's of course a point when you stop caring about whatever the Tower can dish out, and after it transform you into a rabid and horrifying facsimile of a jungle cat, you've passed that point. Besides, Sayaka was right; he'd needed to get away from the computer long before he had actually gotten away from it.
His head was still spinning, and he felt a bit sick (the same sort of ill that had come at the end of the summer he'd wager), but here he stood on the 43rd floor, standing outside one specific jail cell; one with a number plate that read "037." For a long time it just seemed like he was staring vacantly at it, even though his mind was racing.
And then eventually Jin snapped out of his own reverie, took out a screwdriver from his pocket, jammed it under the plate and pried the numbered plate off the wall after quite a bit of effort. The physically strongest he wasn't, but he kept pushing until it finally popped off.
Of course, it would come back the next day, and again Jin'd be on the 43rd floor, rather prying the plate off or carving into it to scrape off the number and make it illegible. It almost became a ritual every day, stopping down there on the way down to find something to do, and it'd be easy to find him idling about in front of the jail cell with a screwdriver in hand.
He had no idea what his own opinion was on her anymore, but he still felt like doing this much.
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Yeah, well. Don't blow off your crap on my account. Everyone 'round here's got stuff to do. Better than cowering in the corner. [You know what he was just going to go back to prying at the nameplate again. Yeah.]
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[... He rubs the back of his neck a little sheepishly.]
They um. They voted me as the leader.
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[He's not surprised that the kids around here have formed a group, though he hadn't heard of it before. Maybe he heard Sayaka mention it once? Eh.]
Heh. Congrats, kid. [It's pretty obvious that for all Ken's awkward, he's probably pretty proud of himself.] You'll do good. Got more brains than most of the runts that run around here.
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Don't be surprised if they get killed a few times to get it through their thick skulls though.