Diarmuid Ua Duibhne (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
oathshackledbird) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-01-04 11:14 pm
oathshackledbird) wrote in towerofanimus2013-01-04 11:14 pm
I Don't Think That's How...
Characters: Zero Lancer and whoever would like to join!
Setting: Starting in room 4-16, then heading to the cafeteria, and from there floor six.
Format: Whatever you would like!
Summary: Zero Lancer wakes up in a strange place and tries to figure out what's going on.
Warnings: Spoilers for Lancer's end in the series.
Room 4-16
[The moment he is able to move from the strange paralysis that has gripped him upon waking, Lancer's hand sweeps out to grab one of the two letters his eyes spot on the table near his bed. While the time he's been unable to move has been brief, for a trained warrior in a unfamiliar place, that time has still seemed like an eternity.
An eternity trapped in mystery. An eternity not knowing if his master...]
Right, my master...
[The word drips with an anger unusual to him as his empty hand rises to rest over his heart--over the place where there should have been a gaping hole from the spear he had been forced to drive through his own chest.
The wound is no longer there.]
What is going on? How can this be?
[Lancer's eyes focus back on the letter in his hand and he quickly opens it. After only a few moments, the letter floats onto his bed. Dropped in surprise? Shock? He's not really sure what to call the feeling that tears through his heart. Shock he had felt when he had been betrayed by the master he'd given everything to. Surprise he had felt when he realized, in those final moments, how angry it had made him.
The emotion he feels now that he has been told that his world is dead and he is still alive instead of it being the other way around is something he can't put a name to. And while he doesn't know what to call that emotion, he does know he can't just keep sitting on the bed in this strange place wondering what's going on.
Lancer quickly rises to his feet and summons his armor and spear to his side. The summoning is as natural to him as breathing and he never once doubts that they will come when called. He does, however, notice that while the white outfit had woke up in is now gone, the collar is still there. It's an annoyance, but something he can deal with later once he's gotten some answers.
He's about to leave his room when the trunk at the end of his bed catches his eye. He's not quite sure why, but he gets the feeling he should really look into it before leaving. If the letters had held information, then why not the trunk as well?
Anyone who happens by 4-16 and looks or stops in may find him still kneeling in front of the now opened trunk. Asking about what looks to be the tears in the corners of his eyes may or may not be a good idea.]
The Cafeteria
[While servants technically don't have to eat, since Lancer has no idea how things work in this strange place, he is currently eating a bowl of very tasteless oatmeal. Not that it really bothers him considering some of the things he had eaten while in the Fianna and on the run from Fionn. Tasteless actually is an improvement from what some of those things had tasted like.
To be honest, he's not here for the food anyway. Since the cafeteria was mentioned in the letter, it only stands to reason that a good number of people would be there--new and old alike. And that does seem to be the case, so the servant in green sits at one of the cafeteria tables slowly making his way through his own bowl, his head bowed over it almost as if he's shy. While he's not really shy, he is somewhat worried about his curse and how it will affect the people here. So far, though, no one seems to be having troubles with it leading him to hope that it's not active. Those who take the time to look into his eyes will find that, far from looking shy, they are observing the room and its occupants with an intensity that only those who have fought many many a battle can achieve.]
Floor Six
[After learning all he can in the cafeteria, Lancer decides to slowly start making his way back up the tower so that he can find out what secrets each floor holds. Already he's heard tell that many of the floors are dangerous and even deadly to those who make a misstep on them, but this floor seems far too peaceful for that. He takes a few steps away from the stairway, but doesn't go too far, keeping in mind the things he had overheard from others. How some floors look completely safe, only to become deathtraps in the blink of an eye.
Movement to his left draws Lancer's attention, but he smiles when he notices it's just a deer. A...mutated deer, but a deer just the same. In all honesty, it's not the strangest thing he's seen. He grew up in a world of oddities after all.
The deer watches him for a few moments longer before disappearing back into the forest. As it disappears, Lancer closes his eyes and draws in a deep breath. Maybe it is just because of what he found in his trunk, but this forest with all its oddities makes him feel strangely at home.
Unconsciously, his hand raises to touch the torc that sits tightly around his neck slightly above the collar. He could have worn it lower as he had when it had first been given to him, but no. Lancer can't stand the idea of the gift Oscar had spent so much time finding for him being hidden by that thing...that annoyance he still hasn't found a way to be rid of.
And so he stands there, lost in thought. Thoughts of the old days, of his old friends, things supposedly on a world that might or might not have been destroyed. He still isn't sure what he believes. He just knows that at least here he has these small things, these memories.
He didn't have any of that in the war...]
Setting: Starting in room 4-16, then heading to the cafeteria, and from there floor six.
Format: Whatever you would like!
Summary: Zero Lancer wakes up in a strange place and tries to figure out what's going on.
Warnings: Spoilers for Lancer's end in the series.
Room 4-16
[The moment he is able to move from the strange paralysis that has gripped him upon waking, Lancer's hand sweeps out to grab one of the two letters his eyes spot on the table near his bed. While the time he's been unable to move has been brief, for a trained warrior in a unfamiliar place, that time has still seemed like an eternity.
An eternity trapped in mystery. An eternity not knowing if his master...]
Right, my master...
[The word drips with an anger unusual to him as his empty hand rises to rest over his heart--over the place where there should have been a gaping hole from the spear he had been forced to drive through his own chest.
The wound is no longer there.]
What is going on? How can this be?
[Lancer's eyes focus back on the letter in his hand and he quickly opens it. After only a few moments, the letter floats onto his bed. Dropped in surprise? Shock? He's not really sure what to call the feeling that tears through his heart. Shock he had felt when he had been betrayed by the master he'd given everything to. Surprise he had felt when he realized, in those final moments, how angry it had made him.
The emotion he feels now that he has been told that his world is dead and he is still alive instead of it being the other way around is something he can't put a name to. And while he doesn't know what to call that emotion, he does know he can't just keep sitting on the bed in this strange place wondering what's going on.
Lancer quickly rises to his feet and summons his armor and spear to his side. The summoning is as natural to him as breathing and he never once doubts that they will come when called. He does, however, notice that while the white outfit had woke up in is now gone, the collar is still there. It's an annoyance, but something he can deal with later once he's gotten some answers.
He's about to leave his room when the trunk at the end of his bed catches his eye. He's not quite sure why, but he gets the feeling he should really look into it before leaving. If the letters had held information, then why not the trunk as well?
Anyone who happens by 4-16 and looks or stops in may find him still kneeling in front of the now opened trunk. Asking about what looks to be the tears in the corners of his eyes may or may not be a good idea.]
The Cafeteria
[While servants technically don't have to eat, since Lancer has no idea how things work in this strange place, he is currently eating a bowl of very tasteless oatmeal. Not that it really bothers him considering some of the things he had eaten while in the Fianna and on the run from Fionn. Tasteless actually is an improvement from what some of those things had tasted like.
To be honest, he's not here for the food anyway. Since the cafeteria was mentioned in the letter, it only stands to reason that a good number of people would be there--new and old alike. And that does seem to be the case, so the servant in green sits at one of the cafeteria tables slowly making his way through his own bowl, his head bowed over it almost as if he's shy. While he's not really shy, he is somewhat worried about his curse and how it will affect the people here. So far, though, no one seems to be having troubles with it leading him to hope that it's not active. Those who take the time to look into his eyes will find that, far from looking shy, they are observing the room and its occupants with an intensity that only those who have fought many many a battle can achieve.]
Floor Six
[After learning all he can in the cafeteria, Lancer decides to slowly start making his way back up the tower so that he can find out what secrets each floor holds. Already he's heard tell that many of the floors are dangerous and even deadly to those who make a misstep on them, but this floor seems far too peaceful for that. He takes a few steps away from the stairway, but doesn't go too far, keeping in mind the things he had overheard from others. How some floors look completely safe, only to become deathtraps in the blink of an eye.
Movement to his left draws Lancer's attention, but he smiles when he notices it's just a deer. A...mutated deer, but a deer just the same. In all honesty, it's not the strangest thing he's seen. He grew up in a world of oddities after all.
The deer watches him for a few moments longer before disappearing back into the forest. As it disappears, Lancer closes his eyes and draws in a deep breath. Maybe it is just because of what he found in his trunk, but this forest with all its oddities makes him feel strangely at home.
Unconsciously, his hand raises to touch the torc that sits tightly around his neck slightly above the collar. He could have worn it lower as he had when it had first been given to him, but no. Lancer can't stand the idea of the gift Oscar had spent so much time finding for him being hidden by that thing...that annoyance he still hasn't found a way to be rid of.
And so he stands there, lost in thought. Thoughts of the old days, of his old friends, things supposedly on a world that might or might not have been destroyed. He still isn't sure what he believes. He just knows that at least here he has these small things, these memories.
He didn't have any of that in the war...]
no subject
[Lancer now fully turns to face her and bows.]
Thank you, Lady. If that is the case, I may not have been able to call my weapon to me. I will wish to grab a less magical weapon if I am going to go deeper into the forest.
As you have guessed, I am new and with so much information to take in, I am finding myself somewhat overwhelmed.
no subject
[A pause.]
'Cept maybe bears, I guess.
[She gives a little snort at the 'Lady' bit, wondering what kind of world this guy is from that he's calling her that. The hand on her chin taps its fingers idly against her cheek, and she shrugs.]
Figured it was the least I could do. No sense in letting anybody get caught with their pants down.
[The fingers stop tapping, and she turns her attention to him fully, brows rising behind her sunglasses despite the fact that he can't see them.]
Now- what was that about a magical weapon?
no subject
With an unnecessary twirl and flourish, he summons the spear to himself holding it out in front of himself for her to see.]
This is my weapon--a spear that is has been with me all of my life. Now it is part of me. Losing it would be like losing a limb. It's good, then, that losing it is something that will not happen.
[Lancer's not going to mention that he should have two such spears, but the other has already been lost. Or at least, destroyed by his own hand.]
no subject
How's it a part of you? Part of the whole magical weapon deal or what?
[Never let it be said that Sis isn't supremely eloquent.]
Pretty nice spear though- you use it a lot, right?
[She's straightened up from having her chin in her hand, and all her fingers are tapping a rhythm out on the railing, her foot beginning to move slightly in time with it.]
no subject
Thank you. What we are is kind of hard to explain to those who aren't familiar to the ways that our world works. Needless to say, I'm not human. I am as magical as the spear itself is. Were someone to take it from me, all I would have to do is summon it back and it would come to me in an instant. Currently, it is sealed, but if I chose to release the seal, it would become more than just a spear.
[Suddenly he pauses and, perhaps surprisingly, blushes.]
I'm sorry. I shouldn't be going on like that. It's just that I don't often get to speak of such things and the spear is something that is very dear to me.
no subject
Must be handy in cases where you might have to throw it at someone. Though I ain't ever met someone who called themselves magic before. How's all that work?
[She smirks at the blush, tilting her head back and the rhythm she's tapping out on the railing picks up speed.]
Nah, s'alright. You get all excited about telling folks about your sweet fucking spear, I get it. Ain't no real fighter who don't appreciate the weapon they use.
no subject
[He pauses a moment in an effort to try and think of a good way to explain what he is to her and is saddened when he realizes there really is no easy way.]
Tell me, are there ghosts or spirits on your world? Are you familiar with how magic works?
no subject
[That's the way it usually was with people- when there was something they couldn't talk about, the longer they went without saying anything, the more they wanted to talk about it.]
There might be ghosts and shit where I'm from, but I haven't ever dealt with them.
[She'd never much had to think about it- too busy doing other stuff and preparing for more important things. Like a world-ending video game.]
'Magic' is kind of a complex thing to ask about though. From what I've gathered there are a lot of different definitions an' systems of magic here in the tower.
no subject
It is, though my part in the war was over when I was brought here and my master...my master is no longer my master so I guess it is less important now. And you are right, it feels good to talk about it again.
Magic is complex anywhere you go, though it being so might work to my advantage here since that means you seem to understand how much of a mess it can be.
On my world, I am what is called a Heroic Spirit. I'm the copy a hero's soul which was recorded on something we call the Throne of Heroes sometime after death. The war I mentioned is one of the things we can be called to fight in by masters who have the right magical aptitudes.
wow I am so late on this tagback, sorry
A hero's soul, huh? Anyone I'd know?
No worries! For good or ill, I tagback forever as long as the other person wants to.
Doubtful, after all I hardly consider myself a hero and certainly not on the level of the most well known hero from my homeland.
[But he's not in a war anymore so there's really no reason not to just tell her his name, after all. Lancer drops into a polite bow.]
My name is Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, First Warrior of the Fianna. It is a pleasure to have met you.
oh, likewise *^*
[It was the first rule of things like that, she knew- the less a person considered themselves heroic, the more likely it was that they were.]
Your name does sound familiar though. Can't remember where from, but it'll come to me.
no subject
[He shrugs.]
I don't know how much like Earth your world is, but I lived in Ireland long long ago. Hundreds of years after a more recognizable hero named Cu Chulainn. Maybe his name will mean more to you than my own.
no subject
[She shrugs back, slipping off the rails and to the ground, slipping her hands into her pockets casually.]
I'm from Texas, that's about as stereotypical 'Earth' as you can get, really. And I've read some things, yeah. Pity myths from that side of the world aren't really told too much on mine.
no subject
[The Grail War had taken place in Japan very far away from there so what information he has about that area is fuzzy at best.]
I'm afraid I don't know much about that area but for a reason different from your own. I lived my first life in Ireland before your country had even been discovered and my second life saw me summoned into a war in Japan. Not much time for learning about other places then. It's a shame, though, that your country allows its children to know so little about the rest of the world.
no subject
[Oh, Japan. Why does all the cool shit happen over there, man?]
You're right though- it's a damn shame that they don't teach kids more about the rest of the world. Well, besides whatever our country's stuck its nose into. Kids'd do a lot better in the world if they did.
no subject
I would think so anyway. If it's not prying too much, may I ask about you? What do you do in Texas?
[He pauses and then quickly corrects himself.]
What did you do in Texas? Before you were brought here, that is?
no subject
[That's a minefield she's not sure you're ready for, Lancer.]
Mostly DJ-ing though, if you know what that is.
no subject
[Lancer turns the term over in his mind waiting for the information the Grail has given him to define it. Unfortunately, what he gets isn't much.]
It's something to do with music, right? I'm afraid I don't know anything beyond that. The information given to me by the grail can be overwhelmingly detailed on some things and frustratingly lacking on others. In this case, it is lacking.
no subject
Could show you. Be easier than explaining, really.
no subject
If you have what you need to show me, that might be the best. As I mentioned, the information the grail gave to me is patchy at times. It's enough to let me work fairly well in modern society, but there is still a great deal I don't know.
no subject
Follow me then.
Why don't we leave them at that? That way we can focus on new interaction?
By all means, Lady. Lead the way. I look forward to learning whatever you have to teach.
works for me
Well then buckle in, buddy- I've got a lot to teach.