Ienzo (No, Not Zexion) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
grimgrimoire) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2012-12-09 07:07 pm
grimgrimoire) wrote in towerofanimus2012-12-09 07:07 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Characters: Ienzo (now a big boy) and you.
Setting: Room 2-12 and some other places.
Format: Either!
Summary: Science Boy is back in the tower, except he's... significantly less of a boy, now.
Warnings: Ienzo is a ramblin', gamin' man.
[Ienzo found it extremely disheartening how long it took him to realize that something had gone amiss. The color palette wasn't even that similar; everything was a shade of grey here, it seemed, whereas everything was a shade of brown when he had gone to sleep last. Ienzo withheld most of his immediate reactions upon realizing that his body was not responding to movements; truthfully, it was enough to upset him considerably (what if he had been drugged was a recurring thought), but there was no use showing that. He noticed that there were several other people in this room, which only reinforced that notion.]
[He found the trunk quickly, and pulled on his clothes quickly before continuing. The letters were the second order of business. He read them both in detail (looking confused at the second), and stowed them in his pocket shortly afterwards. From the same pocket, he conjured a pen, and tucked the two journals in the trunk under his arm. Then, only then, did he bother to talk to anyone. He started with the people in his room, though branched out into the hallway. Whoever he asked, the question was the same:]
Excuse me. Can you tell me why I am here?
[Greetings, Tower. Did you miss him?]
[Of course, game mechanics are a beautiful thing, and Ienzo doesn't remember anything about his last stint in the tower of souls. Though some other people might, and they would be remembering Ienzo as a little kid in an oversized lab coat who talked so quietly he didn't even use capital letters. Well -- and I know this may be surprising -- the lab coat actually fits now. He's been taken from a much farther point in the timeline, and is now nineteen years old. And yes, he is still quite short.]
[Anyway.]
[Ienzo's strategy for Tower exploration amounted to this: move up the floors one at a time, looking thoroughly at each one. Of course, he could see from the elevator that there were forty-eight of them, so he didn't expect that he would cover the entire Tower in one day; in fact, as soon as he stepped up the staircase and into a forest, he simply decided that he was done with exploration for the day and moved down to the lower floors again. Passerby might find him walking around, inspecting things so mundane that most people wouldn't even give them the time of day, or else sitting down on any available surface (except the floor) to take notes.]
Setting: Room 2-12 and some other places.
Format: Either!
Summary: Science Boy is back in the tower, except he's... significantly less of a boy, now.
Warnings: Ienzo is a ramblin', gamin' man.
Room 2-12.
[Ienzo found it extremely disheartening how long it took him to realize that something had gone amiss. The color palette wasn't even that similar; everything was a shade of grey here, it seemed, whereas everything was a shade of brown when he had gone to sleep last. Ienzo withheld most of his immediate reactions upon realizing that his body was not responding to movements; truthfully, it was enough to upset him considerably (what if he had been drugged was a recurring thought), but there was no use showing that. He noticed that there were several other people in this room, which only reinforced that notion.]
[He found the trunk quickly, and pulled on his clothes quickly before continuing. The letters were the second order of business. He read them both in detail (looking confused at the second), and stowed them in his pocket shortly afterwards. From the same pocket, he conjured a pen, and tucked the two journals in the trunk under his arm. Then, only then, did he bother to talk to anyone. He started with the people in his room, though branched out into the hallway. Whoever he asked, the question was the same:]
Excuse me. Can you tell me why I am here?
Floors 1 through 5.
[Greetings, Tower. Did you miss him?]
[Of course, game mechanics are a beautiful thing, and Ienzo doesn't remember anything about his last stint in the tower of souls. Though some other people might, and they would be remembering Ienzo as a little kid in an oversized lab coat who talked so quietly he didn't even use capital letters. Well -- and I know this may be surprising -- the lab coat actually fits now. He's been taken from a much farther point in the timeline, and is now nineteen years old. And yes, he is still quite short.]
[Anyway.]
[Ienzo's strategy for Tower exploration amounted to this: move up the floors one at a time, looking thoroughly at each one. Of course, he could see from the elevator that there were forty-eight of them, so he didn't expect that he would cover the entire Tower in one day; in fact, as soon as he stepped up the staircase and into a forest, he simply decided that he was done with exploration for the day and moved down to the lower floors again. Passerby might find him walking around, inspecting things so mundane that most people wouldn't even give them the time of day, or else sitting down on any available surface (except the floor) to take notes.]
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And what does Ruana do, other than serve as boss to the others?
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[He sees that note scribbling, and moves to his drunk to pull out a sheath of papers.] All the experiments, games and other unpleasant things that have happened are recorded in here. The ones with an R at the top I suspect or know of Ruana's hand in.
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