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)
towerofanimus2012-12-16 12:56 am
warriorscribe) wrote in towerofanimus2012-12-16 12:56 am
Entry tags:
Street-corner preacher in the cold
Characters: Enoch and anyone!
Setting: Room 3-18; Dormitory levels 1-3; floors 1-9
Format: Either is fine!
Summary: Enoch's illness has made itself apparent as Jason's lab rat in the most annoying way possible.
Warnings: None yet! Aside from Enoch actually acting like a grouchy old man, I guess.
For the first day since the nagging thoughts had grown worse, to where he couldn't keep them all to himself anymore, Enoch had managed to mostly keep the scathing thoughts he had to a minimum. He had a better sense of propriety than that, and knew they would only aggravate people.
But since this isn't a grave matter like taking someone's life (and because Jason was obviously doing better than Ruana), his mind gave out after that day. When he woke up, the first thing he did was direct scolding at the dorm room ceiling he knew to house the administrators' eyes. "Why aren't you doing anything? You're captive too, aren't you? Are you all cowards!?"
For a moment, he paused, thinking on the jarring harshness of his words, at their lack of his normal softness and how inconsiderate they were, compared to what he'd said before. But between his sluggish, heavy body and the cold sinking into his bones, the full impact of the change failed to hit him. He summoned his armor and put his Arch in its rightful spot, then pulled his cloak tight around his shoulders, pulling the hood as far over his head as it would go. He couldn't just talk to the cameras and his roommates if they were there, after all.
He'd snap at people passing in the halls - "Why aren't you doing something!?" "Are you going to just go about life here when all our lives are gone?" "We need more than idleness and aimless riots!"
This would continue into the cafeteria, where he was only stopped from approaching others by virtue of his mouth being full of food, or when he'd double over in a coughing fit. If someone was really lucky, he'd be cut off by coughing or sneezing. When he was done eating, he continued up the stairs, slowly for his flu-worn body, giving out the same admonishments to anyone who happened to be near.
His body finally gave out on the stairs of the dark ninth floor. Those passing through will see a cloaked, hooded figure huddled on the lit stairs...still scolding people for their inaction. Or perhaps they'll catch him in the middle of a coughing fit, or taking a nap. Or, sometimes, one might find the staircase empty, a monster prowling around. When it moves on, that figure emerges from the shadows of the darkened floor and resumes his usual routine.
Setting: Room 3-18; Dormitory levels 1-3; floors 1-9
Format: Either is fine!
Summary: Enoch's illness has made itself apparent as Jason's lab rat in the most annoying way possible.
Warnings: None yet! Aside from Enoch actually acting like a grouchy old man, I guess.
For the first day since the nagging thoughts had grown worse, to where he couldn't keep them all to himself anymore, Enoch had managed to mostly keep the scathing thoughts he had to a minimum. He had a better sense of propriety than that, and knew they would only aggravate people.
But since this isn't a grave matter like taking someone's life (and because Jason was obviously doing better than Ruana), his mind gave out after that day. When he woke up, the first thing he did was direct scolding at the dorm room ceiling he knew to house the administrators' eyes. "Why aren't you doing anything? You're captive too, aren't you? Are you all cowards!?"
For a moment, he paused, thinking on the jarring harshness of his words, at their lack of his normal softness and how inconsiderate they were, compared to what he'd said before. But between his sluggish, heavy body and the cold sinking into his bones, the full impact of the change failed to hit him. He summoned his armor and put his Arch in its rightful spot, then pulled his cloak tight around his shoulders, pulling the hood as far over his head as it would go. He couldn't just talk to the cameras and his roommates if they were there, after all.
He'd snap at people passing in the halls - "Why aren't you doing something!?" "Are you going to just go about life here when all our lives are gone?" "We need more than idleness and aimless riots!"
This would continue into the cafeteria, where he was only stopped from approaching others by virtue of his mouth being full of food, or when he'd double over in a coughing fit. If someone was really lucky, he'd be cut off by coughing or sneezing. When he was done eating, he continued up the stairs, slowly for his flu-worn body, giving out the same admonishments to anyone who happened to be near.
His body finally gave out on the stairs of the dark ninth floor. Those passing through will see a cloaked, hooded figure huddled on the lit stairs...still scolding people for their inaction. Or perhaps they'll catch him in the middle of a coughing fit, or taking a nap. Or, sometimes, one might find the staircase empty, a monster prowling around. When it moves on, that figure emerges from the shadows of the darkened floor and resumes his usual routine.
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"And what would you suggest be done?"
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"And yet that someone is not you.
By what right do you have to judge, when like all others you have nothing to present."
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And here he's gone on too long for his lungs' liking. He's interrupted by a powerful coughing fit.
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Lucifer watches Enoch launch into a fit of coughing. A part of him begins to pull his leg back, as if intending to kick at the man, before stopping himself. It wasn't worth it at the moment.
"Then again. It is always the weak man who is quickest to judge."
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And, of course, that was the perfect time for the coughing to start again.
"...When we are well."
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Such a stern look does not belong on the face of a boy so young. Nor does the tone in his voice.
"Speak when you can prove you have anything to provide beyond words."
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He blinked at the "boy", looking as if he was carefully choosing his words. "Excuse me, but...are you human? You seem beyond your apparent years."
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Lucifer keeps his arms behind his back, his gaze fixed on Enoch while his eyebrows raise slightly as if pondering whether or not that was all Enoch intended to ask on the matter.
He's beginning to feel there's little reason to even hide his name, let alone what he is. Lucifer may as well answer the question in a straight manner.
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Enoch watches the not-child tiredly from the shadows of his hood. At this point, it's hard to say what the truth will do to him, given the way the disease has sapped both physical and mental strength.