Louis Cypher/Louisa Ferra/Lucifer (
firstofthefallen) wrote in
towerofanimus2013-01-12 11:48 pm
Tyger Tyger Burning Bright
Characters: Lucifer
Setting: Around the Tower, Floor 13
Format: Action brackets to start, will match any form
Summary: A thousand years of captivity and powerlessness does not bode well with someone who puts a surplus on the importance of power.
Warnings: Blasphemy warning for floor 13 and in general, creepiness, encroaching madness
Anywhere
[The Tower is being odd today. That seems to be something all can agree on who inhabit it. But there's something especially off with wherever you are right now.
You can't put your finger on it at first, but the sensation is bothersome. Worrying, to a degree. It's a prickling sensation at the back of your mind that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. It takes a moment, but not too long, before you realize what the sensation is.
You can't tell exactly why, but you feel like you're being watched. You might feel like you can see the shadow of someone else in the room, indistinct and for a brief moment inhuman, before it flicks out of sight. Or maybe you hear something that sounds like footsteps behind you. Or to the side. Or right in front of you.
But always. Always you think that in the back of your mind you can hear a low, indistinct singing.
Perhaps you'll just try and leave the room you're currently in. Or perhaps you'll call out to see if anyone's there.
Maybe there is no good choice at the moment.]
Floor 13/The Cathedral
[The Cathedral was his. YHWH had managed to take so much away from him in the 1000 years Lucifer had been trapped just by trapping him here that if the most Lucifer could do to obviously hurt YHWH was destroy a place that seemed to be for his worship, Lucifer did it.
The pews in the Cathedral have been shattered, most reduced to splinters and heaps of broken wood. Most of the shattered pews seem to have been covered in some form of unpleasant filth, and the smell of carrion and dark staining on the wood attests to what it is. The wood, if one felt some desire too, would be filthy to the touch, grimy and clumped and wet, so horribly wet.
The large, ornate stained glass windows too have been defaced, obscenities in several languages, in English and in German and in Latin and in all languages in between, new and old, alive and dead, have been carved into the glass. It would be better, more accurate perhaps, to say they were scratched into it. Some of the obscenities are simply vulgarities, single words meant to shock and offend. Others are long winded, ranting tirades against God, against belief, against seemingly anything having to do with order and control of oneself, or of others.
The same kind of filth that covered the shattered remains of the pews too seems to start running down the center of main aisle, originating in the middle of it. The path of grime and filth continues to the podium at the very front, where one would stand to give a sermon.
Instead, there's a creature sitting on top of the podium. The creature, in comparison to the wreckage that is now the Cathedral, looks beautiful. Almost serene. And yet from it's posture there's something wrong. Something frightening beyond how immediately inhuman its appearance is. The fact that the creature is singing, and singing in a voice not beautiful but monotone, almost droning, doesn't help.]
Our God
Is an awesome God
He reigns in Heaven above
[As the creature sings, it seems to be whittling something. Not with a knife, but it's very fingers. It doesn't appear to have claws, and yet it still digs its finger nails into a piece of wood - a large shard of what had once been a pew - and tears chunks of wood away with ease. The figure it's making appears to be a little man, hands outstretched to heaven, as if pleading or asking reprieve.]
With Wisdom
Power
And Love
[And at love, the creature crushes the little man in entirety in it's hand. The wooden figure disappears into the creature's fist, and once the hand becomes unclenched all that appears again is a fine dust that sprinkles and falls to the ground.]
Our God is an awesome God.
[The Cathedral was his. To do with as he pleased. To be the one way Lucifer believed he could still spite God, could strike in some fashion against YHWH who had managed after so long to leave him truly powerless in Lucifer's contest against Him.
Lucifer hadn't given up. Not completely. He could still form a Chaos faction. He could still fight back. He just
He just needed to find some way to hurt this damn Tower. And none had presented itself.
None had been found in a thousand years.
And so he sat. And sang. And made mockery as he schemed.
As he tried not to break down further.
He wasn't accustomed to visitors. Most seemed to realize it was a bad idea by this point to enter the Cathedral. Still.
Lucifer wouldn't necessarily be angry to receive some visitors.
Even the devil could be lonely.]
Setting: Around the Tower, Floor 13
Format: Action brackets to start, will match any form
Summary: A thousand years of captivity and powerlessness does not bode well with someone who puts a surplus on the importance of power.
Warnings: Blasphemy warning for floor 13 and in general, creepiness, encroaching madness
Anywhere
[The Tower is being odd today. That seems to be something all can agree on who inhabit it. But there's something especially off with wherever you are right now.
You can't put your finger on it at first, but the sensation is bothersome. Worrying, to a degree. It's a prickling sensation at the back of your mind that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. It takes a moment, but not too long, before you realize what the sensation is.
You can't tell exactly why, but you feel like you're being watched. You might feel like you can see the shadow of someone else in the room, indistinct and for a brief moment inhuman, before it flicks out of sight. Or maybe you hear something that sounds like footsteps behind you. Or to the side. Or right in front of you.
But always. Always you think that in the back of your mind you can hear a low, indistinct singing.
Perhaps you'll just try and leave the room you're currently in. Or perhaps you'll call out to see if anyone's there.
Maybe there is no good choice at the moment.]
Floor 13/The Cathedral
[The Cathedral was his. YHWH had managed to take so much away from him in the 1000 years Lucifer had been trapped just by trapping him here that if the most Lucifer could do to obviously hurt YHWH was destroy a place that seemed to be for his worship, Lucifer did it.
The pews in the Cathedral have been shattered, most reduced to splinters and heaps of broken wood. Most of the shattered pews seem to have been covered in some form of unpleasant filth, and the smell of carrion and dark staining on the wood attests to what it is. The wood, if one felt some desire too, would be filthy to the touch, grimy and clumped and wet, so horribly wet.
The large, ornate stained glass windows too have been defaced, obscenities in several languages, in English and in German and in Latin and in all languages in between, new and old, alive and dead, have been carved into the glass. It would be better, more accurate perhaps, to say they were scratched into it. Some of the obscenities are simply vulgarities, single words meant to shock and offend. Others are long winded, ranting tirades against God, against belief, against seemingly anything having to do with order and control of oneself, or of others.
The same kind of filth that covered the shattered remains of the pews too seems to start running down the center of main aisle, originating in the middle of it. The path of grime and filth continues to the podium at the very front, where one would stand to give a sermon.
Instead, there's a creature sitting on top of the podium. The creature, in comparison to the wreckage that is now the Cathedral, looks beautiful. Almost serene. And yet from it's posture there's something wrong. Something frightening beyond how immediately inhuman its appearance is. The fact that the creature is singing, and singing in a voice not beautiful but monotone, almost droning, doesn't help.]
Our God
Is an awesome God
He reigns in Heaven above
[As the creature sings, it seems to be whittling something. Not with a knife, but it's very fingers. It doesn't appear to have claws, and yet it still digs its finger nails into a piece of wood - a large shard of what had once been a pew - and tears chunks of wood away with ease. The figure it's making appears to be a little man, hands outstretched to heaven, as if pleading or asking reprieve.]
With Wisdom
Power
And Love
[And at love, the creature crushes the little man in entirety in it's hand. The wooden figure disappears into the creature's fist, and once the hand becomes unclenched all that appears again is a fine dust that sprinkles and falls to the ground.]
Our God is an awesome God.
[The Cathedral was his. To do with as he pleased. To be the one way Lucifer believed he could still spite God, could strike in some fashion against YHWH who had managed after so long to leave him truly powerless in Lucifer's contest against Him.
Lucifer hadn't given up. Not completely. He could still form a Chaos faction. He could still fight back. He just
He just needed to find some way to hurt this damn Tower. And none had presented itself.
None had been found in a thousand years.
And so he sat. And sang. And made mockery as he schemed.
As he tried not to break down further.
He wasn't accustomed to visitors. Most seemed to realize it was a bad idea by this point to enter the Cathedral. Still.
Lucifer wouldn't necessarily be angry to receive some visitors.
Even the devil could be lonely.]

no subject
I don't think that's for you to judge.
no subject
Do you believe there is much to gain in denying others simple simple information?
no subject
I've told ya several times now to leave me alone. All you do is ask me questions.
Do you believe in the term "none of your business?"
no subject
[At least it's a straight forward answer.]
no subject
[Reno's eyes narrow a little bit, staring right at the strange chaotic human thing.]
You asked me that question. Why?
no subject
no subject
1/2
no subject
She runs her hand over her face before speaking.]
One answer for one answer, then.
It is my business because this place bothers me. What this place does to people, what it teaches them. Is wrong. People should be allowed to be free, no matter who they are, and to express their freedom as they will, only paying the price should someone they offend decide a price must be paid.
If we cannot go home, let us find what lies beyond the doors of this Tower. If nothing lies beyond the doors of this Tower, then let us make it our own. If they can, people must learn to adapt to this place. To make a home of it. To not quit living and just give in to the designs of the beings of Law who run this dungeon.
But they've reduced life here to but a few minor aspects. And that death has no meaning here can force it so that life has no meaning here.
It is a putrid place, and living creatures deserve better. Deserve to live. Not be brought into a design that He has commanded, in his cruelty and his madness.
no subject
[Confused Reno is confused, but he's at least sitting back down and listening.]
You're not the only one this place bothers, but nobody else takes up an interest in what other people think.
I think you're a bit late on the making it a home, y'see, I'm getting married in a few weeks.
no subject
[Louisa shrugs.]
It's my nature. And mankind, and mortals, are important in the end. More so than those who would wish for immortality, or gods.
Congratulations. If but more of the people here might attempt to adjust as you do, I'd have more hope for them.
no subject
[Sure, if you think slowly mentally breaking down can be called "adjustment"...]
no subject
I don't think think more of Him than I have to.
[She closes her eyes a minute. Calm down.]
In your world, do you have gods? Or a god that people worship?
no subject
Some people do. What's that got to do with anything?
no subject
That is the He of which I speak. And it is He who I believe is in part responsible for the situation that has transpired here.
no subject
A lot of idiots think something on their planet is why they ended up here. I'm pretty sure the Towerites work outside of it.
no subject
At first I thought His interference was unlikely. And even now I recognize the likelihood of it may be low with lack of evidence. Yet I believeeeee
[And the logical part is gone, swallowed up again by chaos and madness. In her place sits a young man, maybe a year or two Reno's junior, and smiling. Always smiling.]
I was was foolish foolish! to think His grasp may not extend this far. He is always always here. He is everywhere, even if He cannot always act.
This place is a ~testament~ to Him. Too much to be coincidence.
no subject
If this god was all that powerful, he'd be on my planet, too. But he's not. I don't think any god's involved with this place.
no subject
[The transformation this time is a bit more visceral as one of the young man's hands comes down on the other, finger nails digging deep into his skin as he becomes she again. Blood, thick and black and tarry in appearance and not at all like man's blood (unsurprisingly) flows out of the wounds.
Louisa takes no real notice of the pain. And speaks again.]
What you say is logical. It is possible my own bias blinds me, is teaching me to recognize patterns that aren't there that bear similarity to Him and His ways. But they are still too similar, seem too similar after these thousand years.
[A thousand years. It sounds wrong, yet seems so right. It has to be right.]
I wonder, sometimes. If effort is even worth anything in a place such as this anymore.
no subject
no subject
It's my nature.
no subject
Your nature to meddle? What are you? Given a guess, I'd say you were a demon... like me.
no subject
A demon.
[Alright. She smiles. Not an insane one or caustic one either. Genuine amusement.]
A demon.
That would be correct. Though I expect I'm more a literal one then you might be.
Then again. Perhaps demons are different in your world.
no subject
no subject
Does it matter to you? If others should know you as a demon, or as a man?
(no subject)
(no subject)