towerofanimus | Seeing Double

Entry tags:

Seeing Double

Characters: Abel Nightroad, Cain Knightlord, and YOU!
Setting: Hallways around the tower
Format: Either, will copy what you do
Summary: Cain and Abel go in search of answers. Potentially violently.
Warnings: Bad language, possible violence (with permission, of course).
Notes: Both twins will reply to each commenter, so please wait for both terranicidal and terranities to reply <3

Cain wasn't sure what he was seeing as they moved into the corridors; from the tone of the letter he had expected a post-apocalyptic scenario, not this well-maintained building they were in.

Perhaps this was a check-point for the simulation and they wouldn't go any further until they had unlocked its secrets and learned their mission objective. He had to admit that it unnerved him not to know the end goal to strive for, it made it harder for him to achieve the desired result in a swift time, thus ending this uncomfortable situation and allowing him to return back to his life, such as it was, and his duties.

He possibly would have remained in the room he had awoken in for a while longer had he been alone, pondered what could be happening and strategised all the various ways it could turn out. But he hadn't been alone, of course, and to let Abel wander off alone was a disaster waiting to happen.

So anyone walking down the hallways (of any level, they have been exploring), might see two very identical twins walking along, the only difference in their hair colour and the look of murder the silver-haired one is wearing.

[ooc: Open to all, and we'd love to meet everyone. However, Abel is prone to violence, so there's a permissions post here for all your lovely violence needs.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

When in doubt, Ankh would typically take to looking up information. However, there was not a single damn drop of anything useful about their situation to be found in the library or on the computers or anything like that, so he had to figure out an alternative.

He had sent the hawk can on patrol, but that wasn't much. And so for now, he was occupied on the fifth floor, with a popsicle in hand as he appeared to be watching the viewfinders for some sort of useful hint-- although in reality he had much more interest in the security station, but he doubted it would be a good thing if the people running the place knew that.

When Abel's feet carried him at last to the fifth floor... a sense of familiarity amongst the alien nature of this world came at last. Technology -- even a foreign one -- felt much more 'homely' than the other floors of this tower, and security consoles even more-so. It was Abel who was charged with running the security division overseeing the entire function and safety of the colony on Mars, after all.

He has no interest in the drone-like populous, for the most part -- they function like the AI he would expect, rather unobtrusive and baseline for their behaviors, looking as if they followed some pre-programmed route or course of action. Abel wanted a look at what made this place function and see if he could garner any purpose for their entrapment in this pointless simulation. Programs within programs were often sloppy or went nowhere; he was sure this would be the case, but sometimes there were clues in the coding. Even a hint at its creator would assist them in an escape.

...He doesn't exactly care who he has to shove out of his way in his effort to head for the consoles, either.

Cain was content to let Abel take the lead when they came to a floor full of security equipment; while he was a more than competent programmer, this was his brother's area of expertise and he was willing to take a step back.

However, unlike Abel, he wasn't willing to push even the AI people out of the way to get to his goal. And when he sees someone already occupying the room, he gives them a polite smile. It was often the case that drones programmed to act as security personnel were more violent, more protective of their positions, and he would rather avoid that if he could.

"Excuse us."

Ankh was getting really bored of staring at a dead wasteland of nothing.

He let out a 'tch' of annoyance at this endeavor before he realized there were actually people in the room. Dealing with people didn't sound very pleasant either, but, what else was he going to do. So Ankh turned around and leaned against the consoles he had been viewing, taking a bite off the top of his popsicle and leveling both Cain and Abel with a look.

"What do you want?"

Abel gives the stranger -- collared, like them -- a glance, arching a brow in detached recognition as he all but jerks some poor fool right off his feet by the back of his obligatory uniform and tosses him further into the room, replacing the man's position by the console. So, the one by some sort of view panel was programmed to acknowledge them? The others in here hadn't.

He would leave it to his brother to handle the 'public relations,' as it were; he's busy exploring this foreign technology... however futile it might be.

Cain winces as the poor drone flies across the room and Abel nonchalantly takes his place to start fiddling; turning his attentions to the other, who seems to be... eating a popsicle?

"...excuse us," he repeated, feeling it needed saying again. "We're in a bit of a hurry."

Ankh watched with a look of mild amusement as the other guy was throwing around the mindless drones. Sadism, what sadism?

He turned his attention back to Cain when the guy repeated himself. And he wasn't exactly sure why the idiot was repeating himself, he could hear him just fine.

"Yeah; what do you want? Or are you going to stand here and waste my time all day?" His arms were half-crossed as the hand that held the popsicle was still propped up, and he waved a bit before taking another bite off.

Leaned over the console and attempting to understand the jargon he was getting in response to his inquiries, there was a soft frown at his brow; though his attention was elsewhere, he was still absently listening to the chatter between his brother and the perceived A.I. in the background.

"Either tell the Major what we're supposed to be doing here or fuck off," he murmurs, before fingers move over the keyboard function again.

Rudeness was not something he was used to any more; even if the terrans didn't want to obey (and that was more commonplace with Abel than him), they at least knew to be polite to their 'superiors'.

Not to mention he was sure the programmers wouldn't be so stupid as to make an A.I. that provoked Abel's protective side, if it went beyond simple manners.

"We want to know what the mission objective here is, and the way out of the simulation."

'Major'? Ankh was sure that was some kind of army official. Perhaps these two were in some sort of military back on their world. Regardless, he narrowed his eyes at Abel in annoyance. "As I recall, you both came here to bother me, so I have no obligation to tell you anything."

And back over to Cain here, who at least seemed slightly less annoying but just as much of an idiot. "Simulation? Hah. This isn't some simulation. We're stuck here until they let us go or we get out."

Yet another worthless program? What was the point of filling this place with irrational and totally useless personalities? Why go through the effort to instill some of these people with character types and not others if they would all say the same thing, if in different ways? Abel is losing his patience -- what little is left of it, anyway, giving an irate sigh as he continued his work.

...Yes, best to leave Cain to handle this one, because he's rapidly losing his interest in this equally useless console. Fuck! Aren't there answers anywhere?! What the hell are they doing here?!

Perhaps the answers were in the statements everyone was making, even if it seemed they were all just providing dead ends. They needed to look at this from another angle, listen to the exact ways the 'personalities' were speaking to them (as the simple drone A.I.'s obviously weren't important to the simulation), perhaps there was a clue in the intonation or exact choice of phrase used.

Although they seemed to have annoyed this one, so perhaps that meant they were in the wrong place and on the wrong track? He had no desire for a fight, but he's relatively sure that by now nothing will have been programmed to try and pick one with him specifically.

"Please drop the charade, we are aware this is a simulation. It would be easier for all involved if you would please tell us the mission objective."

OK now this was getting kind of annoying. This guy was just a broken record or something. "Are you retarded?"

It was obvious these two weren't going to say anything useful, so Ankh pushed himself off of the console and lowered his popsicle, glaring at Cain. "How many times do I have to tell you: This isn't a simulation." He wasn't sure what their thoughts of a 'simulation' entailed, but whether to prove a point or just out of annoyance, Ankh raise his free hand to flick the blonde man's forehead rather roughly.

And then his tone of voice suddenly changed to be less threatening, yet more disinterested as he looked away. "But, if you want some mission objective, figure out who's running this place; I'm sure they'll send you back if you provoke them enough."

The moment Ankh's hand were stretching in an aggressive manner toward his brother's person, Abel was shifting away from the console as if with a sixth sense, eyes snapping to the stranger's face. There was an unforgiving cold, a sharp protective and possessive intensity -- and a sense of disbelief for the audacity demonstrated by such a seemingly innocent act.

It was rather fluid and quick -- faster than a normal human was capable; one moment he was at the console, the next he was beside Ankh and gripping the hand that dared touch his twin in a just short of crushing grip, his eyes boring holes into those of the other man.

"Give me an excuse to kill you," he says, his voice deceptively quiet and calm as he applies more pressure to those digits trapped in his own. "I'll wipe out this entire tower. Is that provocation enough...?"

As soon as he felt the flick to his forehead, he knew what would happen within the next heartbeat, nothing to be done about it. Sure enough, his own personal guard dog was 'dealing' with the problem.

It was odd, the combination of disgust at the violence and an almost twisted satisfaction from Abel's protectiveness.

"Nobody will be getting killed. Step away, Commander."

The action had caught Ankh completely off guard, and the next thing he knew there was a debilitating pain in his right hand, causing him to hunch his shoulders in recoil and let out a breathless gasp in pain.

"Heh...not bad...." He sounded obviously in pain, but nevertheless spoke calmly. "Go ahead; try wiping out this tower.... I'd like to see you try."

He winced again, but was smirking regardless; the arm that was currently being crushed now appeared to be plated in some kind of red armor with black material underneath, and two small, plastic-esque wings in red and black on his forearm. For the most part, it just seemed to make his hand bulkier, although Ankh did seem to be trying to wrench free.

Abel ignores his brother's demand -- insubordination, perhaps, but he had never been particularly good at following orders, whether they'd come from his twin or otherwise. His grip over Ankh's hand -- now curiously armored; oh, this has caught his attention -- only increases, and he grips his wrist as well with the other hand, keeping the stranger's arm still as he examines this anomaly.

"So, you're a combat type," he remarks almost languidly, looking at the plating with lazy curiosity, starting to apply more pressure to his knuckles -- enough to make bone creak, if the armor hadn't been applied. "It'd be in your best interest not to tempt me to violence. Or do you have a death wish...?"

Stepping forwards to lay a hand over Abel's where it was crushing the program's arm, he leaned in to make sure his eyes made contact with their identical mirror.

"I said stop, Abel. Please."

If he was a combat type, as it seemed he was from the odd armour appearing out of nowhere, then antagonising him wasn't going to lead anywhere good.

Combat type? Was that part of whatever stupid simulation they thought they were in? Of course Ankh didn't have much time to consider that, given that his arm was now restrained twicefold, and the pain was every increasing. He flinched again when the pressure increased, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to continue talking.

He gave a sidelong glance at the blonde man when the new hand arrived. He sure as hell didn't want this guy to be saving his ass, but he had no way of breaking free, even with abandoning the officer's body.

He turned his attention back to the man with his arm in a vice grip. The smirk was gone, but the words sure kept up. "You can try if you want, but you can't kill me. This isn't even my own body," he said simply, gritting his teeth.

Not even his own body? This reached him above even his own interest over the curiously armored hand, and Abel's brow arches further. His brother's efforts to cease and desist were falling on deaf ears.

Was this a member of the science and research laboratories interacting with them through another program? Or perhaps a fellow member of the UNASF, also in the simulation?

"What are you doing here?"

Cain was equally intrigued by the statement, wondering exactly what could be meant by that. Not even his own body? Technically that could be true of any program, none had a real body, they were all just bits of binary strung together in a specific order.

But that had the ring of meaning something different, and so he turned his attention from trying to stop Abel from doing something needlessly violent, to the strange man in front of them.

"What do you mean, that's not your own body?"

Well that certainly got their attention. Ankh couldn't help but smirk at this. There was a slight tick of his tongue as he looked at Abel in annoyance. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Ankh opened his mouth to answer and then remember oh wait his hand still frikkin' hurt. He didn't want to abandon the officer, but at this rate it was a better alternative than letting the hand get broken. So, he wrenched his body downward, and instead of loosing his arm from Abel's grip, his body seemed to fall out of the armored hand like it was a glove and collapsed to the ground, falling immediately unconscious while hair turned into a normal, straight brown cut.

When he spoke again, it was coming from the now disembodied arm rather than the body and almost had an echo quality to it. "Exactly what it sounds like, idiot," He finally spat out an answer. Sure it was a lot more inconvenient being a floating arm, but for once his Greeed senses came in handy to dull the pain.

--What in the name of...

Abel's fingers twitched, grip loosening out of sheer incredulity and shock as the body was altered -- the hand, now... possessed? What the hell is-- this?

The surprise is naked on his face as he fumbles his assault on the offending appendage.

The look of surprise was mirrored on Cain's own face, eyes opening impossibly wide as he stared at the talking arm.

This... had to be a program, nothing like this existed in reality, although the purpose to it was still a complete mystery.

"Drop it and step back, Abel."

If Ankh still had a proper face, he'd no doubt be smirking even more right now. Abel would find it very easy to to obey Cain's command, because when Abel fumbled his grip, Ankh used it as an opportunity to wrench himself free.

"About damn time," He scoffed, flicking his fingers. The arm was now floating freely in the air, its fingers pointed at the two men as if watching them. "This is my real body," He added, curling his fingers as if gesturing to himself.

Edited 2011-09-29 01:08 (UTC)

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well done ena, reply with personal journal

you are a genius. :B

/snickers maturely

you're both so mean ):

bby don't be like that D';

babby don't hurt me... no mo...

Re: babby don't hurt me... no mo...

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