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sageprincess) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-01-14 03:35 pm
sageprincess) wrote in towerofanimus2013-01-14 03:35 pm
Entry tags:
The flow of time is always cruel...
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.]
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.]
no subject
[And if he was awake for it, he'd fight it with everything he had.]
no subject
[Admittedly, she might just be trolling him right now. But it is a logical concern.]
no subject
I don't feel any different, so I'll live as I always have. It's a pretty good life, even without a soul.
[Though if he found out for sure, it would be rather unsettling, or even maddening.]
no subject
[Even in her numbed, sardonic state, she can hardly consider this life to be "good" by any definition.]
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Am I? I can think of a couple of guys who might be able to say the same thing.
no subject
[You never know with this place.]
no subject
[The Tower has its own (admittedly low) bar for sanity.]
no subject
[A very, very low bar. You're more likely to trip over it than anything else, really.]
Forgive me, but I think I'll classify them as outliers rather than the norm.
no subject
[It's half a boast and half an admission of defeat. He'd still like to think that he's being perfectly sane and rational, though.]
no subject
[Her own admission of defeat. Ultimately, she wasn't enough of an outlier to lead these people to freedom.]
no subject
no subject
no subject
[He can tell from experience.]
no subject
[By the way she emphasizes destiny, it doesn't sound like she is fond of the concept.]
no subject
[In his eyes, if it's destined to happen sooner or later, it was better to live his life on his own terms instead of fretting over destiny. He'll just let his fate come when it comes.]
no subject
[The bark of her laugh is harsh, cruel. It melts away the ragged civil coat she wears for the sake of politeness, showing the burned and broken heart it hides.
She sneers.]
The thoughts of a fool. You know nothing of destiny or fate.
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Hey, I'm a hero, you know. I was bound by fate in life.
[And he spent his life more or less giving it the finger and doing whatever he wanted anyway.]
no subject
Oh, you did not just--
Zelda is of average height, but she pulls up every inch as she glares harshly at the idiot in front of her.]
Oh, is that so, hero? Tell me, is your world doomed to an endless cycle of destruction because of a demon king's hatred? Is your blood cursed to be the cause of his ire whenever he appears?
[She raises her hand, the golden triangle upon it glowing brightly.]
When you were a child, did you have one of the most powerful holy relics in the world thrust upon you, after your entire life had been uprooted? Were you on the run, unable to even use your own name because fate had marked you a target to be hunted?
When, for once, you decided to take fate into your own hands and make someone's life better, did it doom your country to a watery grave? Did you ever seal the dragon away, only for it to come back and destroy everything you have ever worked for?
Knowing all this, have you ever been asked to lead a multiversal effort to regain your freedom? Because you are "destined for it"? Did you attempt to summon the fortitude you think is so easily gained and lost needed for such a monumental task?
Because I did. I have. And believe me, hero, my world is made of this wretched thing called destiny, and if you ever imply I don't know what it is again, I will burn you where you stand.
no subject
No, I was never presented with the choice to have such a heavy destiny.
[All the tragedy he had suffered was personal. It didn't drag in countries or worlds.]
I was a lucky hero. The only thing that they said would happen to me was that I would lead a short life.
[And even then, he has to wonder if it might be some sort of blessing, given how he had seen lives needlessly prolonged in this Tower.]
But this Tower isn't your world. Everyone here is from different worlds. Maybe the destiny written for you here is different from the one your world set for you.
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You remember Gandalf, yes? You want to know what he said to me within minutes of meeting me?
[Because, oh, that day will forever be burned in her mind.]
"I can think of no better candidate to unite the free people of this tower."
"I will give you time to think to your answer, my lady. And I will keep looking for another candidate, but believe me, I doubt I'll find one."
"To lead is what you are born for."
And like a fool I went along with it. Tried to play the part as best I could. But in the end, look at all it has gotten me.
[She gestures to the room they are in, to the dying stars and planets - a projection of her failure to stop and reverse the destruction as she was told she was "destined" to.]
My only destiny now is to watch as those that still fight join the ranks of the insane.
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So he gave you that destiny. So you took it and did your best to stick to it. Ten years isn't an eternity, and they're bringing in new people again. It's like they closed the door between the Tower and the outside worlds and just opened them again. You still have a chance if you wanna leave.
And if you don't, then lead us here. I'm sure a lot of people would be happier to listen to you than to the administrators.
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[No time is spent thinking about it.]
I will not be burdened with the fate and hopes of a hundred tortured others again. I refuse.
And what makes you think newcomers suddenly appearing again means anything? We could not find a way out before, why would we now?
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[He's just a little disappointed, but as some who doesn't quite care about getting out of the Tower, his attempts to persuade her to go back to being a leader don't carry much weight.]
I dunno. Just something to hope for, maybe.