Chloe (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
true_noir) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-01-14 12:39 pm
true_noir) wrote in towerofanimus2013-01-14 12:39 pm
Entry tags:
Lo, I am become Death (Open)
Characters: Chloe and You
Setting: Floors 25-26, 32-35 mostly, though she will sometimes wander
Format: Action or Prose
Summary: Chloe is ten years older (27-28), and by now deeply unhinged. She lurks in the shadows and the darkest patches of the islands and the morgue whenever she is able, danger in her eyes.
Warnings: There is always a risk when you see her, especially on floors 32-35, where powers do not work. She's had ten years to hone her skills as an assassin and hunter further and is more than willing to abuse the lack of powers on those islands. Let's keep it PG-13, however. If you want something 18+, PM me and we can talk.
Chloe was almost beyond caring about the cretins trapped in this place. Some of them were souls she had met, had attempted to befriend, but in the end her natural tendencies as a predator had gotten the better of her, and what few friends she had made had mostly fled her. They were not trustworthy. They were not true.
She had survived, monsters untold. There had been death. She vaguely recalled it anymore. It had been an educational experience when it had happened. It had taught her most of all not to trust those who possessed power. In this place, any of them could become monsters at any moment, and several were to begin with. In the end, her principles hadn't mattered. Her mistress hadn't mattered. There was only one thing in this world that was constant.
Death.
Here, in these places, she was the one who could deal it. They could come and treat with her, plead with her sensibilities if they wished. Some even did, though the conversations were rarely long or comfortable. It was futile. The only solution that she ever truly saw was to be worse than the very things she hunted. She could rely upon only herself, at least until the day that her time was finally up.
Setting: Floors 25-26, 32-35 mostly, though she will sometimes wander
Format: Action or Prose
Summary: Chloe is ten years older (27-28), and by now deeply unhinged. She lurks in the shadows and the darkest patches of the islands and the morgue whenever she is able, danger in her eyes.
Warnings: There is always a risk when you see her, especially on floors 32-35, where powers do not work. She's had ten years to hone her skills as an assassin and hunter further and is more than willing to abuse the lack of powers on those islands. Let's keep it PG-13, however. If you want something 18+, PM me and we can talk.
Chloe was almost beyond caring about the cretins trapped in this place. Some of them were souls she had met, had attempted to befriend, but in the end her natural tendencies as a predator had gotten the better of her, and what few friends she had made had mostly fled her. They were not trustworthy. They were not true.
She had survived, monsters untold. There had been death. She vaguely recalled it anymore. It had been an educational experience when it had happened. It had taught her most of all not to trust those who possessed power. In this place, any of them could become monsters at any moment, and several were to begin with. In the end, her principles hadn't mattered. Her mistress hadn't mattered. There was only one thing in this world that was constant.
Death.
Here, in these places, she was the one who could deal it. They could come and treat with her, plead with her sensibilities if they wished. Some even did, though the conversations were rarely long or comfortable. It was futile. The only solution that she ever truly saw was to be worse than the very things she hunted. She could rely upon only herself, at least until the day that her time was finally up.
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