The flow of time is always cruel...

[sageprincess]

Characters: Jaded, 28 year old Zelda and you!
Setting: Dorms, Floor 12, 48, and 11
Format: Starting in action, but I'll match.
Summary: Yet another of the Tower residents has been affected by this month's event, and the ten 'years' she's lived through have not been the kindest to her.
Warnings: Possibility of violence if she gets annoyed.


Dorms
[The night is dangerous, and the Princess of Hyrule is already asleep - or close to it - when the subtle shift occurs. In a quiet instant, her body fills out just a bit, no longer that of a young maiden, and silver strands caused by stress pepper her blonde head. At the same time, her possessions rearrange themselves: her shining regalia, once meticulously cared for, now dull and dusty under her bed; her ocarina and harp, once her most precious possessions, now sitting unplayed at the bottom of her trunk, covered not by pretty silk dresses, but by simple cotton clothes.

The once-girl herself stirs slightly as the change happens, but is otherwise remarkably still through the night. Somewhere along the line, she must have either grown accustomed to the kind of nightmares Tower life would bring, or she learned how to control them.

In any case, she wakes with the dawn, as always, changes out of her nightgown quietly, and stops off at the women's restroom to wash her face before making her way to the elevator, all in a way that seems almost absurdly routine. After ten years of living in the same place, repeating the same thing over and over, she could probably do this morning ritual blind.

... And given how the Tower works, it's not too much of a stretch to say she actually has.]

Floor Twelve
Some say the world will end in fire.
Some say in ice.

[Oddly enough, this planetarium-esque floor has become one of Zelda's usual haunts over the course of ten years. It's morbid, watching the universe slowly die, reset, then die again, but to one so desensitized, that simply means the newer, more foolish arrivals will likely just pass this floor by.]

From what I've tasted of desire,
I hold with those who favor fire.

[She doesn't like interacting with them much, if she can help it. The hopeful, determined ones remind her too much of what she once was, something she doesn't like to remember.]

But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate...

["I can think of no better candidate to unite the free people of this tower." Yeah, right.]

To say that for destruction ice
Is also great...
And would suffice.

[Quiet and alone, she watches the destruction of universes again and again impassively. There's no horror in her eyes, no tense fear in her expression, and if you're lucky, you might hear her repeat a short poem that she's memorized over the years to herself.]

Floor Forty-Eight
[Like the planetarium, the graveyard possesses a silent sort of despair that tends to keep the newest of arrivals away. At least, there is rarely anything for them here. This is a place for those who have been hurt in one of the worst ways the Tower knows how.

By watching friend after friend disappear.

She does not mourn them. Because she doesn't believe they are dead or because the very concept of death is beginning to fade from her mind - she cannot say. Still, she finds herself wandering a certain section of the cemetery like a restless spirit, fingers grazing each marker as she passes.

Eight Links, all in a row. Three Zeldas next to them. A Sheik, then, nearby. Navi, Saria, Darunia, Fi, Pipit, Fado, Midna, Fierce Deity... glimpses, however brief, of the past and future.

... Minami, Samus, Ventus-- other familiar names dot the rest of the graveyard, and for one who hates remembering herself, she lingers here, losing herself in the memories she has of others.]

Floor Eleven, dusk
[One good thing has come out of ten years of being trapped, however.

She has gotten damn good at magic.

Blasts and arcs of divine fire follow her command, lighting up the quickly darkening meadow. As the rainbows begin to reverse themselves, there are intermittent bursts of what can only be called pure light, searing any phantom foolish enough to draw close and whisper to her in achingly familiar voices.

She has her own memories to eat away at her. She doesn't need such foul things as a reminder.]

Comments

Floor 12

[scorchedchivalry]

[The blackened knight bearing even more of the mark of corruption upon her neck and jaw - that scrawling red pattern - comes to stand next to the princess.]

And the third - hopelessness and despair. Fire and ice are kinder ends, Zelda.

[Saber couldn't recall exactly when over the last ten years she stopped addressing the woman as royalty, but neither of them were fit to be what their titles said they were.]

[sageprincess]

That would be why I indulge. It's easy to get lost in could-have-beens.

[... It's just the could-have-beens are much more dark than they once were, when Saber would call her 'Your Highness' and she still thought she had any right to that respect.]

[scorchedchivalry]

Foolish dreams for those like us. Try not to indulge so much. Stay with the fire and ice, my dear, and I shall shoulder the hopelessness and despair.

Floor 11

[cullscuttlefish]

[It isn't as if Zelda needs the help, but Feferi still looks up to - and looks out for - her. Any odd phantoms that don't get reined in by the light and fire are going to get washed out by water whips. Feferi learned how to do this ages and ages ago, and it used to take an entire ritual of jumping into the air and spinning around her trident to control the water. She can still do that, if she needs to, but these phantoms aren't worth the ceremony. Instead, she looks over, gives Zelda a nod, and makes sure her feet are grounded, channeling the energy she needs up through her body and out through her hands.]

[sageprincess]

[Feferi... She doesn't understand that admiration. Never has, never will - especially now that she's fallen so far from what she once was. Still, she can't say she's not at least a little bit proud of the girl. Despite everything, she's grown up fairly well, and not, as Zelda can vaguely recall, like her ancestor.

She nods in return, moving closer to the troll as the phantoms begin to respawn. It's an endless, hopeless battle, she knows (fitting, isn't it), but damn if it doesn't feel good.]

A pleasant night, isn't it. [She remarks casually, summoning several small spheres of fire, ready to attack at a moment's notice.]

[cullscuttlefish]

[When you spend half your life with a terrible example of royalty to look up to, latching onto the first example of someone who tried to do better was only natural. It's helped her remember that no matter how dark things get, there's always another way. A better way.

The battle might be hopeless in this place, but it does feel good to get some of that restless energy out of her system.]

It's lovely.

[There's water beading up at Feferi's fingertips, and at the first sign of movement in the distance, she launches her attack, putting that phantom down.]

You can almost see another rainbow, when the water hits the light the fire produces at the right angle. Kind of pretty, if you can call anything in a fight pretty...

[always_lies]

[Azula had been on her way to the dorms when a bright flash caught her attention on the meadow. Drawn to anything to do with fire, she paused and stepped off the staircase, seeking out the source.

The arcs were beautiful. She watched for a moment, arms folded, before she spoke.]

This seems a little intense for just practice.

[sageprincess]

[Her style definitely isn't like any firebender's, though the hint of anger and rage directing it is there. The blonde tones down her display gradually, only speaking when the flames are not but sparkles at her fingertips.

She shrugs.]

It's the end of the day. May as well work off excess energy.

[A lie, but a reasonable one.]

would they know each other after being so long in the Tower?

[always_lies]

[Azula smiled a little. She had not lost her skill at reading people, and in fact only got better at it.]

If that's what you want to tell yourself. Not that it's any of my business.

floor eleven.

[nightfowl]

[It's been five years at least since Haken's met Zelda's alter-ego. Now he hasn't seen as much as everyone else, but he's seen his fair share of things... certainly, he's not the same person from that night, but he still remains very much the same. It's pretty hard to break a man like him.]

Certainly picked a good night to do some ghost huntin', Zelda. Didn't strike me as the type.

[sageprincess]

[There are far too few men with unbreakable spirits in the world. All those identical graves some forty or so flights up are proof that they exists... they're just not here.

She releases the arc of flame she's controlling, flinging it forward to catch anything in its path. Then she turns just enough to face Haken.]

They're simple targets. Training with them is low-risk so long as you do not let them draw near.

[Of course, there's a more personal reason she chooses the phantoms to eliminate again and again, but no one wants to hear that.]

floor 12

[redbranch]

And what of a destruction that comes with neither fire nor ice? What would you call that?

[Lancer asks, leaning on on the wall of the stairwell a step or so away from the floor. It's not so much an honest desire to know as it is idle curiosity.]

[sageprincess]

[She's quiet for a moment, watching a planet be consumed by light. Then, softly:]

Something no one expected.

floor eleven

[colonial]

[Idly, when he sees the rainbows start to invert, America thinks he should probably go back up to the dormitories soon--England might worry. But, watching Zelda's magic flow from her like water, he isn't quite ready to leave. Magic has always fascinated him, unique in the way things that you can never have are fascinating. He remembers spending a lot of time watching anyone who can use magic make use of it, and the wanton destruction of phantoms doesn't make him blink.]

You're real good at that. Like England.

[He's jealous--but he'd never lay a hand on Zelda. She was too important to England.]

[sageprincess]

[Ah, Alfred - or America. To be honest, she's never quite sure which name to stick with, which is not helped by the fact that, despite everything, she's still not grown out of thinking of England as 'Arthur'.

In any case, the strange little boy that never ages and is the center of England's world is downstairs as night is falling, and that probably isn't a good thing.]

Well, a little latent talent and a lot of time to practice goes a long way.

[She shrugs slightly, making her way over. At the very least, no phantoms are going to get near the child.]

Floor 12

[lightofhumanity]

[chaos sometimes came to this floor when he thought he was getting a bit too lax and needed a reminder as to what would happen if he did fail. However, he sensed and saw a person in the room. She wasn't quite human, as she had some power, but she was also reciting an old poem. chaos's memory was a little off, but he remembered where that poem came from. In return, chaos recited a small poem of his own.]

Bound,
of breaking earth,
coming forth:
the winds of destruction..

[Or, at least, a snippet of one he had read long ago.]

[sageprincess]

[She tilts her head just slightly when she hears someone else begin to recite, only enough to peer at him through the corner of her eye. She only barely recognizes him as someone who has been in the Tower for a while - perhaps they attended some of the same meetings when she did such things - and she turns back to the projection.]

People are so fascinated by the end of the world, aren't they.

Floor 12

[oathshackledbird]

[Lancer had been told when he had first arrived at the tower to seek this one out. She knew the answers to his questions. She could help point him toward those who would love to have one as skilled as he to help them in their quest to escape this place.

Now over a thousand years after that day, he can't remember if he ever did search her out, but that fact really doesn't matter. It's not who she was then that made him approach her today.

It's who she is now. Someone as hopeless and empty as he is.]

They never mention what those who survive the destruction are suppose to do--what they are suppose to feel as the days pass by and they remain trapped in an unchanging horror.

What are they suppose to do, Lady?

[sageprincess]

Endure the torment. Pretend it isn't happening. Beat against the walls confining them until their hands bleed.

[Her words are hollow, of course; she's done all of the above and look what it's gotten her. The existence of a hermit, hiding away in the most depressing places, because at least it doesn't feel like it's all a sham.]

There are as many answers as there are survivors.

Floor 11

[faithstaynight]

[Jeanne had simply been passing through, and it was only a glance off to the side, out onto the expanse of the floor, that made her stop. It was in a pause between Zelda's attacks, but Jeanne noticed a stray phantom approaching the girl (girl? she looked... different somehow. the word didn't quite fit. But how...?) from behind.]

Princess, watch out!

[In a flash her sword was in her hand, and she tries to quickly close the distance between herself and the phantom...

... But she stops dead in her tracks, almost tripping over her own feet, when Zelda unleashes her attack. The searing heat of the divine fire, felt so clearly at such a close distance, nearly causes her to scream.

But it disappears soon enough, along with any other creatures in the vicinity, and Jeanne has to take a deep, shuddering breath to calm herself. Even so, her voice shakes just enough for Zelda to notice.]

That... That was quite impressive.

[sageprincess]

Ruler...?

[She questions mid-attack, noticing the girl's (yes, girl, since Ruler never seemed to age) presence too late to rein it in. When it's over, however, she dismisses it all, treading softly towards the Servant with a confused and maybe concerned expression.

Still, her voice is a bit deeper than normal, and much more monotone than it used to be.]

I'm sorry. Are you all right?

[... But there's one thing eating away at her besides Ruler's well being.]

Why did you call me that?

48

[notagiraffe]

[Taiki came to visit Gyousou often and others who had disappeared, Willow and Eridan among them. It was strange because this was not the way his earth parents remembered the dead nor was it the custom of the 12 Kingdoms. He knew that Gyousou and his friends were not here, they hadn't died they had just disappeared. But it was a way of remembering.

He saw Zelda and went over to stand next to her silently.]

Re: 48

[sageprincess]

[She stops when he does, catching his figure in the periphery of her vision. For a moment, she is silent, the sea of memories she's currently swimming in churning up visions of the sickly boy who tried to comfort her that one gruesome month in the early days, and his King and caretaker she met briefly afterward.

When that moment ends, she turns her head just slightly to look at him.]

Hello, Taiki.

floor 48 /totally not late or anything

[bow_of_the_galadhrim]

[The elfs hair, longer than one might have imagined him to allow it to grow, walked among the graves as well. He'd tended to them days before, when Haldir had come to draw him away from such a sad sight, but he found he had to come and see them out of respect for those that had vanished. Legolas had long since given up hope of seeing them again.

He turns to look around, the sight of Zelda catching his eye and he silently moves to join her. There's a respectful nod of his head, not for the positions and titles they once held but for one those who have seen too many horrors in this tower, lost so much and gained so little.]

Zelda.

'course not

[sageprincess]

Legolas.

[She returns the nod, her fingernails idly scraping the stone of a marker with her name (or rather, title; it's another blasted title passed down through the generations, but she doesn't have anything else to be called by) etched on its face. She hardly knew any of the other Zeldas, yet she finds herself lingering by their "graves."

Perhaps, one day, she'll join them.]