ARCHER ♤ an unknown hero. ♤ (
swordedpast) wrote in
towerofanimus2013-01-01 05:47 pm
And thousands of demons stopped me to say
Characters: Archer (
swordedpast) and OPEN.
Setting: Floor twelve this afternoon, the dormitory halls tonight, and the cafeteria tomorrow morning.
Format: Action, but I'll match the preference of taggers.
Summary: Archer broods, fights, and then cooks breakfast. It's a typical day and night for him.
Warnings: Violence and angst.
[ floor twelve, afternoon of January 1st ]
[ Last month offered Archer many things to think about and little time--or presence of mind--to think about them. Now, though...?
Now he stands silently in the center of this endless panorama of looping destruction, his face expressionless, his hands limp at his sides. He's been to floor five, with its more personal visions of destruction, and sees no need to return there. He's not sure what to do, anyway, with the feeling it brings to his gut that the force that binds him eternally to the protection of his world is gone, as gone as all the rest of that world. If he's not careful, he could enjoy it.
But standing here, watching the annihilation of unfamiliar worlds play out, all he can think of is that if it's true, it means that he failed. He failed in the one thing that was left for him to do with his existence. The Tower must be his punishment. And isn't it perfect for that? Here, the only two people left in the world that he cared about at all are twisted and darkened, and whoever's in charge inflicts hellish torments on all of them. Yes, it makes sense to think that he failed, and all the worlds really are destroyed.
Even if he'll never admit that he believes it.
Now and again, he might give a little shake of his head and make a frustrated noise to try to drag himself out of these dark thoughts, but he always fails, and soon enough he lapses back into silence and stillness again, simply watching the morbid movie unfold around him. ]
[ the dormitory halls, night of January 1st through 2nd ]
[ It may not be the smartest of moves, but Archer seems to have devoted his night to roaming the halls of the dormitories. He isn't merely wandering, though--he's fighting. Whenever a monster appears, he makes no effort to escape from it. Instead, twin swords flash into his hands, and he sweeps in to attack.
Anyone making their way through the halls this night is likely to come upon the knight in red vengefully hacking apart any monstrous creature that stands in his way, even if it tries to flee. Only grim determination shows on his face: no fear and no mercy either. ]
[ the cafeteria, morning of January 2nd ]
[ Though he spent the night chasing monsters through the halls of the dormitories, nothing about Archer's demeanor now suggests anything like it. He's secluded himself in the kitchen of the cafeteria--and he doesn't seem eager to be recognized, as he's wearing something quite different and simpler than his usual flashy outfit...along with a pink apron.
But why?
Well, he's cooking. He's busy making Japanese-style omelets, and he seems quite intent on that task. He doesn't look particularly happy--but then, he never looks particularly happy. He simply looks quite serious about his current business. ]
Setting: Floor twelve this afternoon, the dormitory halls tonight, and the cafeteria tomorrow morning.
Format: Action, but I'll match the preference of taggers.
Summary: Archer broods, fights, and then cooks breakfast. It's a typical day and night for him.
Warnings: Violence and angst.
[ floor twelve, afternoon of January 1st ]
[ Last month offered Archer many things to think about and little time--or presence of mind--to think about them. Now, though...?
Now he stands silently in the center of this endless panorama of looping destruction, his face expressionless, his hands limp at his sides. He's been to floor five, with its more personal visions of destruction, and sees no need to return there. He's not sure what to do, anyway, with the feeling it brings to his gut that the force that binds him eternally to the protection of his world is gone, as gone as all the rest of that world. If he's not careful, he could enjoy it.
But standing here, watching the annihilation of unfamiliar worlds play out, all he can think of is that if it's true, it means that he failed. He failed in the one thing that was left for him to do with his existence. The Tower must be his punishment. And isn't it perfect for that? Here, the only two people left in the world that he cared about at all are twisted and darkened, and whoever's in charge inflicts hellish torments on all of them. Yes, it makes sense to think that he failed, and all the worlds really are destroyed.
Even if he'll never admit that he believes it.
Now and again, he might give a little shake of his head and make a frustrated noise to try to drag himself out of these dark thoughts, but he always fails, and soon enough he lapses back into silence and stillness again, simply watching the morbid movie unfold around him. ]
[ the dormitory halls, night of January 1st through 2nd ]
[ It may not be the smartest of moves, but Archer seems to have devoted his night to roaming the halls of the dormitories. He isn't merely wandering, though--he's fighting. Whenever a monster appears, he makes no effort to escape from it. Instead, twin swords flash into his hands, and he sweeps in to attack.
Anyone making their way through the halls this night is likely to come upon the knight in red vengefully hacking apart any monstrous creature that stands in his way, even if it tries to flee. Only grim determination shows on his face: no fear and no mercy either. ]
[ the cafeteria, morning of January 2nd ]
[ Though he spent the night chasing monsters through the halls of the dormitories, nothing about Archer's demeanor now suggests anything like it. He's secluded himself in the kitchen of the cafeteria--and he doesn't seem eager to be recognized, as he's wearing something quite different and simpler than his usual flashy outfit...along with a pink apron.
But why?
Well, he's cooking. He's busy making Japanese-style omelets, and he seems quite intent on that task. He doesn't look particularly happy--but then, he never looks particularly happy. He simply looks quite serious about his current business. ]

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You're mistaken: it's not important. Ah, I merely meant that you should wait until you're eating to judge whether it's good enough.
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I'll wait here then until it's ready. And then I'll eat, and then I'll judge. In that order.
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You didn't need to wait like that, but it's done.
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Thank you. I'm looking forward to eating it and judging it.
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It's nothing to clap at.
[ He flips the omelets onto a plate, and then grabs a fork and a knife and starts out of the kitchen. ]
You should eat it in the cafeteria. Properly.
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[ She blinks, not moving from her seated position on top of the counter just yet, instead glancing at him as he's already taking a few steps away. ]
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[ He looks troubled. It's not so much at her question as at what it made him realize--that for a moment there, he'd really cared about such formalities as where one eats and how. Something about making food for someone who calls him a friend--
He has to put it out of his mind, and quickly. So he hurriedly puts the plate down in front of her. ]
Hmph, if you can find your fun anywhere, I suppose.
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Since I always have fun when I'm with a friend.
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I suppose it'd be easy for someone like you to make friends, even here.
[ He tries to make that come out scornfully, but no matter how he spins it, it's a compliment. ]
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.. It's.. not really 'even here'. I think it's easier to make friends here than somewhere else.. [ For a moment she just slowly pokes the food again, but then she continues eating. ]
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[ He's still watching her eat intently, but he looks a little contemplative now. ]
It's not every day you get stuck in a hell-tower with the weird people you meet there your only support.
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[ He's definitely flustered now. He stares down at the table. ]
Only someone weird like you could say a thing like that, but I suppose I've no choice but to accept it.
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If you accept it even though it's something only I would say, then that only makes me more glad. .. See, you're really kind..
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[ He sounds kind of resigned now, though. ]
I suppose it can't be helped.
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But she finally finishes her food, putting the plate down next to her as she swallows the first bite. Then there's a pause, as if she's thinking. ]
.. It's good after all.
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--of course it is. Even if it's just cooking, I wouldn't half-ass a meal.
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[ He's not sure he wants to hear the answer to that, so he hurries onwards-- ]
I'll set aside some for you when I make breakfasts for Rin, then.
[ --so he says something he'll probably regret. ]
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Really? I can have breakfasts from you too..? I'm one of the luckiest people in the Tower now, I think.
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Yeah, it's true.
[ He's back to scowling down at the floor. ]
You're lucky as hell no one's taken thorough advantage of your clueless naivete already.
[ But his tone is softer than he means for it to be. It's nice when she says things like that, even if he can't admit it. ]
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[ She blinks, as if she doesn't get it. Although the fact she doesn't even seem to realise what it means practically proves his point to begin with, huh. ]
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[ He holds up a finger as if lecturing. ]
It's that state of mind you have, where you're as innocent and trusting as a small child.
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And.. am I really innocent and trusting? You think so?
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[ He hesitates a moment, a small frown creeping onto his face. As much as he hates to admit it, he doesn't like it when she looks sad like that. ]
Look, it's things like that--you shouldn't have to ask someone whether you're innocent and trusting. You should be able to decide for yourself, "This is how I am, and this is what I need to change, and this is what I need to keep..."
[ He trails off. Even he's not hypocritical enough to be able to give someone personality advice with a clear conscience. Seriously. ]
Although some people would probably call it part of your charm.
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