towerofanimus | (no subject)

Characters: Waver Velvet and open
Setting: Floors 14, 45, 19 and 43 or anywhere else
Format: Starting with action but I can match
Summary: Waver's been in the tower for twenty years and become a grumpy bum. Replies will come from

achillean
Warnings: Nothing really, I don't think.

Floor 14
[Is there really someone sitting in front of a tv with a Playstation controller in hand...in boxers and an undershirt? Yup, there sure is. And that person is Waver. Poor posture and everything. Although it might be hard to some to recognise him as Waver Velvet at first, as he's aged twenty years. His hair grown out past his waist, and being nearly a foot taller are the major points. Care to join? Sure you do.]

Floor 45
[Waver stands at the windows, looking out to the clouds as he thinks. The faceless creatures occasionally watch him, but he pays it no mind, and even chuckles to himself in thinking of his first day in the tower and how afraid he had been. Looking down at what little of the world below he can see through the clouds is a good way to problem-solve, or work out a plan for his next lesson, letting his mind wander. Today, though, he's thinking about what his life could have been outside the tower. Remaining with Rider and those he had met in the Tower of Animus certainly did him good, but if it all had never happened, where would he be? There's no use in wishing for that, or to go home, he's seen the ruins of his world firsthand now. But the thought is an interesting one nonetheless, and something difficult to turn away from. Especially when he's now spent longer in the tower than he'd spent at home.]

Floor 19
[An average day for Waver has always involved plenty of reading. Finding very few other spots in which he can concentrate without being bothered by the tower, or people in the tower, he sits in the library with a magic text of his own. He jots down notes in a notebook as he goes. There are enough magi in the tower to bounce his ideas off of from time to time, as he still strongly believes study can create a great magus. These days it's all a matter of getting any new books from home. Luckily he's received a few at Christmas from the administrators, and has several others piled up on the table. Although a nearly tattered copy of The Iliad sits among them. He's also lighted a cigar and sits with it in his mouth almost the entire time, with no regard for the fact that a library probably isn't the best place to be smoking.]

Floor 43
[In the evening, Waver takes a plate of food up to the cells, as he thinks Ryuunosuke has been locked in one for some time, and can't allow him to starve in there and end up free again. He carries it nonchalantly through the tower, taking the elevator to floor 41 and walking the rest of the way. But when he gets there, and sees the cells all empty, the doors simply hanging open, he drops the plate, sending it crashing to the ground.]

Shit--

[Had someone let Ryuunosuke out? He has to find him right away, before he can hurt anyone, any of the children he tutors.

He can be found all around the tower, desperately looking for the one he should be watching, and cursing under his breath the whole time.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I was here last night! [He was trying to lock up a monster, but didn't have much success.] No one was there then either.

--That long?

[Then he must have gotten out just after Waver brought him dinner the day before. And that means there very well could have been victims already. Death isn't a big deal in the tower, he's come to see that over twenty years, that is, unless you're tortured first.

He grumbles, taking a small kick at the broken plate on the floor.]

Oh, fuck me.

I could tell you if I see him! [America offers this quite cheerfully--after all, if this person goes after kids, he'd be a good person to watch for him.] Does he have powers?

He doesn't, fortunately. But until he's found, you should stay in your room, I can't use you as bait.

[America's smile widens--there's something vaguely inhuman about it. It's childish and pleased, but in a way no entirely human child would be.]

It's okay, I do! If he attacks me I can just break him and then I can tell you and you can watch his bed for when he comes back.

[Well, that wasn't what he was expecting. For a moment he's tacken aback by the suggestion, coming from a child who looks so young.]

If you're sure you can handle yourself...

[But really, what's up with this kid...]

Even if he got me first he'd be in big trouble after. So it's okay!

[He says "got me" like it's some sort of grand game of cops and robbers in his mind.]

You know this isn't like hide and seek, don't you?

[This conversation is growing more and more worrying to Waver by the second.]

It is, sort of. You just get hurt if you get caught. [America shrugs, exaggeration the motion childishly.] That happens all the time here, though, and then you wake up in bed anyway.

That's true, but this man doesn't allow his victims to die so easily.

Neither does this place. I mean, no one's died yet, right? But a bunch of us should've!

[He hasn't stopped discussing everything with an impressive amount of cheer, as if the ideas no longer bother him. And after two hundred and fifty years, they really don't.]

[It's pretty amazing a child can make him stop to consider these things. He still doesn't think anyone should be so cheerful discussing it, but he can actually see the point.]

...That's fair enough. I guess after everything this place does, his form of torture comes off a bit tame.