towerofanimus | [OPEN] you were just a child, ready to explore

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[OPEN] you were just a child, ready to explore

Characters: Darkleer and YOU!
Setting: Floor 71. [Space floor, CLOSED to Signless.]
Format: Starting with action, but I'll match you.
Summary: In a last ditch attempt to procrastinate going back to work a little longer, Darkleer decides to get... artistic.
Warnings: Darkleer's usual flavor of creepy. Body horror because... well, floor 71.

[He's going crazy. Crazier. The truth is, no matter what, he needs to do something with his hands before that something turns into someone's gruesome death. He's cranky and snappy and in absolutely no mood for shit. This wouldn't be any different than any other day, except he's literally going stir crazy and it's time he admits he cannot keep away from the workshop any longer.

But going back to the workshop means being easily found again and he doesn't want to be easily found, because then he'll have to talk to people and deal with... well, things.

Which is why he's sitting on a more or less solid patch of bloddied fresh in the room, sketching away the various organic structures about. Darkleer's penchant for mechanics have always tended towards the organic, taking cues from the design of living creatures, and while he doubts anything in this room follows one particular design, drawing and trying to replicate the patterns is familiar enough to be soothing. Even if he's sitting in bleeding, gross organs. At this point, he'll take whatever he can.]

[There is something strangely comforting about this floor, even if he's well aware that he is watching death on a massive scale. But perhaps it is the notion of an end, an actual, unavoidable, unmistakable end, that appeals to him. He knows himself morbid enough to be comforted by it.

Darkleer sits, legs folded and hands lying on his knees, with his back against the wall and his head tilted up to watch stars collapsing and yet another universe die. It is soothing. Comforting. Reassuring. Everything ends. Everything stops. He too will come to disappear, one day.

He's so engrossed, watching the display in this floor, that he loses track of the staircase and who might or might not be using it.]

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[Signless had not been happy with much of anything as of recent. He had found that wandering the tower wasn't as comforting as it had been in the past, instead seeking comfort in single floors. Again death had visited him, during one of the events the tower liked to throw his way and while he was used to it. Death..was not pleasant when you partake in it or witness that of another. He found himself plagued by guilt at the death of his friend and while it was now nothing more then a memory. Mituna was currently present and accounted for, but he couldn't help but feel responsible for what happened.

Confusion was another visitor. For the pity he felt for the older troll...he had considered him a friend and he had been powerless to do anything. If he had been stronger could he had saved them both? Quelled one and saved another? He did not know the answer to this and time would never tell. Yet, he could not bring himself to see the murderer. Even if he wanted to yell, attack, confront the other and demand answers.

His musings clouded his thoughts and he came to advance upon the floor. It was a floor he had visited frequently at times, finding the death of the universes shocking, but calming in their own way. Perhaps if he had been at current attention he would have avoided the floor, especially upon seeing the other...musing in the corner.

The blue blood's presence woke him from his stupor. His eyes narrowed and he froze. A part of him wished to advance while another kept his distance. He stood at the entrance...just observing for now. There was a chance the other would not notice him and he could move on...if he would let himself come to ignore. It was unlikely. ]

[Darkleer noticed the movement of the other only too late, when Signless was firmly planted between him and the stairs, and thus blocking any easy attempts to abscond without a confrontation. Darkleer tensed, lifting his head to look at the other only for a moment, before he slowly bowed his head until his hair rustled and hid his expression from view.

He was not wearing his armor, and his bow and quiver were very obviously missing, but after his little episode it would be hard to say, if not downright stupid, to say he was unarmed. He'd found death and the time out in the wasteland had helped him master most of his temper and reinforce centuries worth of self-control, but the memory was still fresh and his mind was nothing if not troubled by it.

His posture spoke of surrender, as the shapeless robe did little to counter the sheer listlessness of his limbs. Unsure of what, if anything, he should say, Darkleer waited.]

[When there was no notion to attack or even approach him, Signless remained as he was. In fact still torn between confrontation and retreat. He decides to come closer, but instead comes to sit across from the other, finding comfort at the other side of the wall. He was facing the blue blood but at least the entirety of the room was between them.

It wasn't that he was mad, he just didn't want to say something he'd regret. After all surely it was his own fault that caused such an episode to happen. In a way Psiionic was right, he shouldn't have gotten so close to the high blood. While at the same time Signless couldn't escape the feeling that it didn't matter. They were no longer on Alternia and the simple rule of their culture did not apply. It didn't feel right to assume the same principles. Especially when Darkleer...had changed. Sure a high blood and a extreme danger to his well being, but weren't all trolls?

It was now his turn to wait. his eyes remained fixed on Darkleer and crouched over himself, using the wall as balance. Huddled, allowing his hood to fall and bunch amongst his shoulders. It was an odd positon, but he felt that comfort was not something he wished for currently. ]

[The silence was unnerving, but Darkleer didn't miss the way Signless moved, or where exactly he chose to sit. The fact he hadn't left surely meant he wished to speak with him, but the distance... and his infernal silence. He rued the day he'd carelessly mocked the man for his tendency to ramble, all too late he learned his silence was all the more powerful than his words.

Darkleer wondered if he was meant to breach the silence himself, but found himself at loss. He could feel the weight of the other's stare, and it made his skin crawl with shame and... something else.]

Perhaps.

[He paused, voice sounding impossibly loud to his ears, even if it was barely loud enough to reach Signless. Darkleer winced and cleared his throat, though he did not look up, nor he stopped hiding his expression behind his hair.]

Perhaps I should leave you be.

[It was true that his silence held such a power. Yet, very few witnessed it. Silence came to him when he wished to make a point, and show dissproval or even dissapointment in another. This was no exception. However dissaproval camein response to the action he had unwillingly performed on his friend. While Darkleer had no control of his actions when it had happened, Signless still felt responsible. Though, such was the way with Signless.

There was no one he found he could talk to. He wished not to bother his descendent and he could not go to Psiionic. Surely he wouldn't understand, possibly even blame him for the deeds of the past. It would have been nice to have a quadrant right about now, perhaps his Dsiciple. Dear Meulin...how he missed her and even in such a dark brooding silence he couldn't help but allow his thought to think of her. Emotion overwhelmed the troll and his shoulders shook as he hunched over. Control left him, he fell, back coming in contact with the wall. His gaze left the other troll and desperately he grasped for some restraint. He wished not to cry but the urge was insistent.

Truth be told he hadn't remembered when he had allowed tears to grace his cheeks, since the incident. Anger had overwhelmed him and the feeling had been foreign to him, that he had decided escape was the better choice. Yet presently he still refused to let himself give in.

The words that approached his ears, caused him to flinch. While they were not loud, the familiarity of his voice sent a wash of emotions that became scattered throughout his thoughts and viciously brought his attention back to Darkleer. ]

To go hide at another location I would assume.

[His tone was controlled and attempted to hide the want in his voice. A part of him wished for his presence. But again he was torn. Surely Darkleer could see his discomfort and sorrow, the confusion that plagued him.]

[Darkleer endeavored not to flinch away, from the accusation. It was a near thing. He bowed his head lower, instead.]

To keep myself from becoming an inconvenience.

[There. Nice and proper and without any unpleasant implications which he knew for a fact were very much true. But still, he didn't move or make any overt attempt to get away. In this case, it was Signless he had wronged, yet again, and since he had failed to avoid him, now he would sit back and take his punishment, whichever way it came.]

[Signless remained stable, calm and refused to move until the other chose to advance on him. Or left the room. He could not let the latter happen, for they needed to speak and it was just a matter of pride on their part. Who would drop their guard first and speak the first word towards what had to be said.]

You are not. Do not fool yourself, for once do not claim yourself to be an inconvenience. If that was truth we would not be at the stand still we are. You...I!

[His voice catches, hanging in utter silence. He chocked, a gasping cough coming upon him as he regained his composure and came to slide down to the floor. His back flopping against the wall.]

I...I don't even know what to say to you! A part of me wishes to let my voice rang and so help me if my words come to strangle you before my hands are forced to such an action!

[His voice raises, becoming uncontrollable. Quickly his words catch once more and he takes a quick breath, letting it softly escape from his nose.]

I will not do that. No. I will not succumb to the anger that plagues me internally, it is like a beast urging to be set free. I will not release it upon you. I am not that type of troll and your actions, no matter how vile, uncontrollable and grotesque they were. I can not harm you. In a sense it is I who had been punished by your actions. The memory is forever on repeat within my think pan and the blood, nothing but a lake of gold that stained my cloak and has yet to come out.

You do not want to hear this, but there is no stopper for my words. Please feel free to rip out my tongue and forbade me to continue speaking if you do not wish to hear it.

[Darkleer sits there, soaking in all of Signless fury, not entirely impassive, but certainly subdued.]

Whether I wish to hear them or not, does not change the fact they're true.

[Please, by all means, let's get on the SELF-DEPRECATION TRAIN, it's a fun ride.]

It seems the less harm I wish on you, the more I cause you grief.

[He offer a sigh and lets his head hang and the words escape him.]

It is the truth that is the most painful and while we constantly continue upon our destined path, we wish to hide from the truth. Sometimes it is easier to hide or cover the pain with a lie. However, it does not mean that we should run or deny the words that need to be spoken. For it is through truth that change happens and friendships are made. From those friendships may relationship blossom, but this is another issue entirely.

[Another cough as he gasps for breath and tries to regather his thoughts and form them into words.]

It is. It is just, but you cannot be perfect. One action here will only hinder or expand upon another. Do not beat yourself up over that. We all make mistakes.

My mistakes end in innocents dying.

[Darkleer bites out the words a bit more harshly than intended. Apparently he's got quite a few... feelings about this whole mess.]

How could I not beat myself over it, as you candidly put it, when I am reduced to nothing but a mindless beast?

It is hard to forgive. Yet, nothing will come of it if we continue avoiding, ignoring and putting blame to an act.

[A pause as he clears his throat.]

I reiterate. Putting blame to an act...you did a horrible action. However it will be forgiven. It is only in the nature of our species to lose control and kill...while it is not something I praise. I have come to accept it. This is why we have a need for the pale quadrant.

[It was unclear if he was dancing around the subject or clearly was just speaking in order to speak.]

I don't lose control.

[There's something petulant to that statement. And something very, very desperate in it, as well. Why, if you thought about it really hard, you might say he sounded terrified. But that's nonsense, obviously. Darkleer is afraid of nothing.]

[He lifted his head and turned to stare at the other. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly at his words.]

No. You do.

But I'm not supposed to.

[Oddly enough, the image Darkleer presents is that of a hissing cat, as he presses back against the wall, shoulders hunched forward defensively.]

Then prepare yourself so that you may gain full control or the alternative.

[His recent tone had been shaky, uneven and moved from a soft whisper to that of the enraged. However now was different. This tone was stern.]

[Darkleer makes a soft, frustrated sound, head falling lower and hair rustling. He's not sure how to answer that, so he won't.]

[Silence comes over them, but it does not last for long. Signless isn't one to allow such uncertainty and awkward moods to sweep over them. He moves from where he slumped and makes his way over to Darkleer. Yet, he does not come to sit beside him. For now he only stands next to the troll. Softly he clears his throat once more.]

I will forgive you.

[Darkleer flinches ever so slightly as Signless stands, head bowing even lower and face now halfway hidden behind his hair.]

...I know.

[His voice is quiet and absolutely miserable.]

I wish you wouldn't.

[Slowly he now comes to sit down beside the other.]

Do not beat yourself up. There is nothing to gain from that.

*Enoch covers his nose and mouth with a hand as he ascends onto this floor. He doesn't quite feel like going through the environmental extremes just to get to the elevator again, so up it is...even if it takes him through this floor, full of the musky scent of the creature, the smell of bile from some stomach on some wall, and the damp smell of fresh blood...

Something dark amidst the red and pink catches his eye. ...A troll?*

...How can you stand this level...?

[It takes Darkleer a moment to realize he's being talked to, since he was so absorbed in his sketching. He pauses a moment, then turns to see Enoch on the stairs. He shrugged almost delicately.]

I do not. I simply endeavor not to think of it, while I am here.

Why stay here at all....?

*Call him morbidly curious, but it didn't seem like a good place to sit...*

Though not exactly welcoming, I do find this floor useful.

[He tilted the sketchbook, just enough Enoch could see scribbles here and there that greatly resembled the room's fleshy walls.]

You could say I am gathering inspiration.

From...indiscernible innards?

Biological structures.

[Darkleer shrugged delicately.]

I often base my work on organic design.

Ah... *Enoch looked around the room again, this time through the lens of a sculptor's eye. Could the delicate veins on the wall be inspiration? He could see an artist taking to those, or the subtle play of everything shifting in sync...

It didn't really do much to dissuade him from the damp stench, though, much as he understood, and he had to cover his nose and mouth again. He's really glad at this point that Baraqel didn't have such inspiration...*

...What do you create?

Machinery.

[Darkleer goes back to sketching, hand surprisingly nimble as he works.]

I have always believed organic design to be the most desirable inspiration for everything else.

Machines... I can see why, I think. What better machine is there than the ones made by God's hand?

*It's a shame he can't really stomach staying on this floor too long. As enlightening as this conversation is, he'll have to go soon...*

[He had been planning on avoiding Darkleer, and he'd actually been doing pretty damn good at it. Which was shocking enough, because life was out to get him and things tended to end poorly for him. Because his life sucked, as a rule. So as much as he wanted to be surprised that he had run into Darkleer, he knew it would have happened soon. Again, because life hated him.

He stands there for a while, staring and frowning and just...watching. He doesn't know what to think about Darkleer. He doesn't know anything about the older troll - all he knows is that Darkleer killed him.

He sighs, loud and drawn out, and he doesn't know what to do. Has Darkleer noticed him or not? Because if he hasn't, he could just. Leave. Avoid Darkleer forever. That would be nice.

But he feels like he's frozen in time, just waiting for something to happen.]

[It was not hard, really, to avoid Darkleer, when he was so good at avoiding everyone himself. He does, however, notice Psii, as he stands there, though the only real indication of it is that he braces himself, pencil slowing down.

It stops completely, at that sigh. But beyond that, Darkleer remains infuriatingly quiet, himself waiting for a cue to tell him how to react to the other. Though really, there isn't much he can do, or that he's willing to do, as it is.]

[Well now he's fucked. He still doesn't know what to do, and just waiting and watching isn't going to make anything easier. It's just going to end with the two of them standing (or sitting, in Darkleer's case) there and waiting for someone to make a move that's never going to happen.

He doesn't get any closer to Darkleer. He's wary, for good reason, and he knows the strength he possesses. Psii can't say that Darkleer will kill him again, but the fact that he could do so very, very easily is more then enough reason to stick close to the staircase.]

I...

[Talking is difficult. He trails off, trying again and again to say something, but he just... He wants to ask why, but he's not sure if he should be accusatory or demand an apology instead, or if pretending like it never happened would be the best. Death didn't mean anything here, even with all the voices screaming in his head. It was only temporary, but was that reason enough for forgiveness?

All of this thinking was going to do him in.]

[Darkleer controlled himself so that the sudden intake of air was not sharp enough to count as a gasp, though it definitely wanted to be. Very slowly, he put down both the sketchbook and the pencil, resting them on his lap, along with his hands. He considered standing, but given that he towered over the other, that option would only end up sending the wrong message. So he kept seated, and only ever so slightly turned to look at the other, behind the convenient curtain of his hair.]

...yes?

[Stupid highbloods and their vertical superiority.]

Do you feel any remorthe for...for killing me?

[He's expecting a no. After all, it's normal and expected for a highblood to kill. It's okay for them - especially when the victim is a lowblood like Psii.]

[Darkleer hissed a very humorless laugh.]

Yes.

[He looked down at his hands, back bending forward even more.]

Though not, I suspect, for the reasons you'd expect.

[Ah.]

I wathn't expecting any remorthe at all.

[He shrugs helplessly, taking a hesitant step forward, and then one more.]

Why do you...?

Because I am not the thing that murdered you. And yet, whenever I lose control, that is all I am.

[Darkleer took a deep breath.]

A thing lesser than an animal, controlled only by rage and mindlessness. I regret visiting death upon you, for those whom I've harmed that I had sworn not to, but most of all for yet another death lost to something so vile as my own lack of self-control.

That... "thing" ith thtill a part of you. You're not that thpecial.

[His words are harsh and more the a little accusatory, and he can't hide his disbelief. Highbloods were all the same, in the end.]

You're not different from any other highblood. None of them care about liveth they take, ethpethially not for thomeone that'th lether then them.

[Softly:]

I'm well aware.

Then why deny it? What do you gain from that?

[Someone's sparking.]</small?

Because despite what you seem to believe, I do not revel in senseless slaughter.

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[OPEN] you were just a child, ready to explore

Space Floor

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late to the awkwardness oops

haha, late. hahahaha, sob.

shhhhhh it's okay

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