Zelda (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sageprincess) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-02-28 01:43 am
sageprincess) wrote in towerofanimus2013-02-28 01:43 am
Nocturne, Second Movement ♪ Mourning
Characters: One distraught Princess of Hyrule and you.
Setting: Floor 25, morning of the 28th
Format: Action, but can switch to prose if you'd like
Summary: Zelda received a letter.
Warnings: Mentions of NPC death, so much angst, slowness on tags because of school
[Zelda,
She's read it a thousand times by now - her name in so neat, so precise script.
If you have received this, then I am dead. I can't be sure if you have all been made aware of it yet. You expressed a desire to help me, and I did appreciate that offer. I have gathered information about this place and sought to act to put a stop to everything myself, but apparently I have failed.
It was him. It was all him. The elevator being open, the worker units with damaged collars assisting them once in the administrative levels, the meeting that had kept the rest of them distracted long enough for her and the others to find the truth... It was all him. And now he has paid the ultimate price for his rebellion, the ultimate sacrifice for trying to truly save them.
I have placed this information somewhere safe in the administrative levels. Do not be hasty, but at some point please act to find this information. It will be within places only I can access, and has security as a necessity, to keep the others out, so please be careful and do not act alone.
And he knew. If nothing else, this letter proves that. He knew what the consequences of his actions would likely be, and he still fought for them, still died for them. People who never trusted him, never realized what an ally they had in him. Even now, in death, he's trying to help them.
Burn this letter, but please spread the information around. Do not use the network to pass this information on, speak of it only in person and never within range of any of the worker or retrieval units. The bathrooms and sauna levels are the safest, but as long as you are quiet and not too near the walls you should be safe.
That is why Zelda sits here, in the center of the meadow, far away from any walls that might watch her. That is why she huddles protectively around the letter, keeping it hidden from prying eyes. That is why she cries, openly, visibly, for she needs to grieve before she can get to work.
Thank you for your offer of help. I regret I was not able to help all of you.
She holds the tear-stained paper out before her, etching his words in stone in her mind and soul.
Regards,
Between her thumb and forefinger, a flame begins to catch, licking at too-neat, too-precise script. Then, in an instant, it bursts into a spark of divine flame, and nothing remains of Dax's will but a few wisps of nigh-invisible smoke. And Zelda.]
Thank you... Dax...
[It was him. It was all him.
And she must mourn before she can enact his will.]
Setting: Floor 25, morning of the 28th
Format: Action, but can switch to prose if you'd like
Summary: Zelda received a letter.
Warnings: Mentions of NPC death, so much angst, slowness on tags because of school
[Zelda,
She's read it a thousand times by now - her name in so neat, so precise script.
If you have received this, then I am dead. I can't be sure if you have all been made aware of it yet. You expressed a desire to help me, and I did appreciate that offer. I have gathered information about this place and sought to act to put a stop to everything myself, but apparently I have failed.
It was him. It was all him. The elevator being open, the worker units with damaged collars assisting them once in the administrative levels, the meeting that had kept the rest of them distracted long enough for her and the others to find the truth... It was all him. And now he has paid the ultimate price for his rebellion, the ultimate sacrifice for trying to truly save them.
I have placed this information somewhere safe in the administrative levels. Do not be hasty, but at some point please act to find this information. It will be within places only I can access, and has security as a necessity, to keep the others out, so please be careful and do not act alone.
And he knew. If nothing else, this letter proves that. He knew what the consequences of his actions would likely be, and he still fought for them, still died for them. People who never trusted him, never realized what an ally they had in him. Even now, in death, he's trying to help them.
Burn this letter, but please spread the information around. Do not use the network to pass this information on, speak of it only in person and never within range of any of the worker or retrieval units. The bathrooms and sauna levels are the safest, but as long as you are quiet and not too near the walls you should be safe.
That is why Zelda sits here, in the center of the meadow, far away from any walls that might watch her. That is why she huddles protectively around the letter, keeping it hidden from prying eyes. That is why she cries, openly, visibly, for she needs to grieve before she can get to work.
Thank you for your offer of help. I regret I was not able to help all of you.
She holds the tear-stained paper out before her, etching his words in stone in her mind and soul.
Regards,
Between her thumb and forefinger, a flame begins to catch, licking at too-neat, too-precise script. Then, in an instant, it bursts into a spark of divine flame, and nothing remains of Dax's will but a few wisps of nigh-invisible smoke. And Zelda.]
Thank you... Dax...
[It was him. It was all him.
And she must mourn before she can enact his will.]
it is a lot to ask of a teenager i'm gomen
Though he burns with the compulsion to tell her that he cares less for her promises than he does for the sentiment behind them, he can't bring himself to choke the words out. Telling Zelda how much it means to him that she cares would be an indirect admission of a crucial weakness: it's very easy to hurt him. All one has to do is act like they care about him first.
He can't afford to be that open. He's made that mistake many times over now already.
But, he will not let her think that all of her efforts have been for naught.]
You have done more for the people in this wretched Tower than most could even hope to accomplish. [The edges of his tone are still soft, worn fine by emotion and words he won't let himself say. But the stone-hard certainty in his eyes cannot be mistaken.] You haven't failed. You've learnt. For your attempts, you've gained knowledge.
That's not— s'not failure. It's the key to success.
[He's trying so hard to keep that door from opening, but even taking a logical approach to this argument isn't covering up the way he keeps Zelda's hands close like they are a treasure he means to hold on to.]
trying to take this thread seriously
Arthur's words are kind. If they were directed towards anyone else, they would likely be very encouraging. But Zelda is the first Chosen of Nayru, the goddess who gave law to the world, and she has borne Wisdom on the back of her hand since she was a child.
All because of a mistake.
She stares at their hands, through Arthur's own, to the place where she knows Wisdom lies, and gradually, her expression begins to shift. Her brows furrow, her eyes narrow, though not angrily, and her lip begins to quiver. The pain of a girl who has seen too much in too few years makes its way into her gaze, and she doesn't have the centuries of experience needed to keep it hidden.]
... I wish it did not hurt so much to learn.