viola? (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
funnystory) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-03-14 10:18 pm
funnystory) wrote in towerofanimus2013-03-14 10:18 pm
first story ⚘
Characters: Ellen and you.
Setting: Elevator, Floor Three, Twelve, Fourteen, Seventeen and Twenty-Five
Format: Starting in prose, will match.
Summary: Ellen explores the tower!
Warnings: None.
ANY FLOOR SERVICED BY AN ELEVATOR
Ellen had been exploring the tower since her arrival, bit by bit. It was too overwhelming to take it all in throughout the course of a single day, even a single week. Some floors were visited two, three times before she was able to commit their location to memory. It's difficult to keep track of how many there are.
The elevator is something she hadn't made much use of--or at least, not enough to understand exactly how it worked. As such, she found herself hitting all of the buttons in order to see what effect it might have and what floor (floors?) she might wind up on.
FLOOR THREE
There were a lot of books. More than she her own house provided, even. Books that she'd never even heard of. Ellen wandered through it a bit aimlessly, feeling lost and not at all at home amongst the familiar setting. Yet, for as frightening as it might have been, this was perhaps preferable to seeing the same scenery every day. One might encounter her pulling down books at random, flipping through them without an interest that passes as quickly as it comes.
Or perhaps they might be approached by her, hands folded in front of her, her expression neutral, with a polite "excuse me?" acting as her greeting.
FLOOR TWELVE
Fake although it was, the projection that the tower provided was truly convincing. It felt as though she was living out the childish fantasy of being able to walk amongst the stars even as they were swallowed up into oblivion. Ellen found herself crouching down on the floor to try and touch them, walking up to the walls and sliding her hand along the ruined wastelands that were left behind with a look of child-like curiosity. Everything was dead, dead and buried, destroyed in the manner shown here, and yet...she was still alive and able to view it. She alone had survived her world's destruction.
As she watched another world be spat out as nothing but a mass of dead rocks, she wondered how many worlds were, at this instant, being destroyed. How many billions of lives were being extinguished and found that she didn't particularly care so long as it was not her own.
FLOOR FOURTEEN
Everything here was foreign. This world was so advanced that it was a little frightening, but she every sight that she took in simply left her wanting more. Currently, she was in the process of examining the various devices that the media room held--more specifically, one of the TVs. She pressed every button, but eventually resorted to simply clicking it on and off, mesmerized by the way that the static would appear and disappear in a split second. It was like magic.
On, off, on, off, on, off...
FLOOR SEVENTEEN
The screaming was a little annoying, but all the same, Ellen found herself investigating this room. Touching the blood handprints, searching for the source of the noise, the driving force behind this trick. She peeked under the staircase, looked up on the ceiling, checked floorboards--and wasn't particularly surprised to find that the source was simply the room itself. It was interesting and a little strange to be subjected to a parlor trick, a product of magic that she could neither pinpoint, nor control.
What confused her the most though is the complete absence of anything particularly dangerous. Certainly, there should be something here to add to the gore and screams of this room? It's only natural that any visitors should be made to fit in...but perhaps it was merely meant to throw people off guard? She made a note to herself to remain on guard.
FLOOR TWENTY-FIVE
There were so many flowers here. So many floors that lead to the outdoors; a true outdoors that was far greater than anything she was able to create in her house. The flowers were real, although none of them talked, and the grass was soft. The way that it was so unlike anything she might have imagined was a small pleasure in and of itself.
She would spend quite a bit of time on this floor, collecting a bouquet of flowers for herself, laying in the grass with the flowers she's collected held close and staring up at the ceiling. It can't quite be called "outside," and yet, even without having been allowed to step outside herself, she's certain that this replicates it perfectly. At the very least it's closer to it than she's ever gotten.
Setting: Elevator, Floor Three, Twelve, Fourteen, Seventeen and Twenty-Five
Format: Starting in prose, will match.
Summary: Ellen explores the tower!
Warnings: None.
ANY FLOOR SERVICED BY AN ELEVATOR
Ellen had been exploring the tower since her arrival, bit by bit. It was too overwhelming to take it all in throughout the course of a single day, even a single week. Some floors were visited two, three times before she was able to commit their location to memory. It's difficult to keep track of how many there are.
The elevator is something she hadn't made much use of--or at least, not enough to understand exactly how it worked. As such, she found herself hitting all of the buttons in order to see what effect it might have and what floor (floors?) she might wind up on.
FLOOR THREE
There were a lot of books. More than she her own house provided, even. Books that she'd never even heard of. Ellen wandered through it a bit aimlessly, feeling lost and not at all at home amongst the familiar setting. Yet, for as frightening as it might have been, this was perhaps preferable to seeing the same scenery every day. One might encounter her pulling down books at random, flipping through them without an interest that passes as quickly as it comes.
Or perhaps they might be approached by her, hands folded in front of her, her expression neutral, with a polite "excuse me?" acting as her greeting.
FLOOR TWELVE
Fake although it was, the projection that the tower provided was truly convincing. It felt as though she was living out the childish fantasy of being able to walk amongst the stars even as they were swallowed up into oblivion. Ellen found herself crouching down on the floor to try and touch them, walking up to the walls and sliding her hand along the ruined wastelands that were left behind with a look of child-like curiosity. Everything was dead, dead and buried, destroyed in the manner shown here, and yet...she was still alive and able to view it. She alone had survived her world's destruction.
As she watched another world be spat out as nothing but a mass of dead rocks, she wondered how many worlds were, at this instant, being destroyed. How many billions of lives were being extinguished and found that she didn't particularly care so long as it was not her own.
FLOOR FOURTEEN
Everything here was foreign. This world was so advanced that it was a little frightening, but she every sight that she took in simply left her wanting more. Currently, she was in the process of examining the various devices that the media room held--more specifically, one of the TVs. She pressed every button, but eventually resorted to simply clicking it on and off, mesmerized by the way that the static would appear and disappear in a split second. It was like magic.
On, off, on, off, on, off...
FLOOR SEVENTEEN
The screaming was a little annoying, but all the same, Ellen found herself investigating this room. Touching the blood handprints, searching for the source of the noise, the driving force behind this trick. She peeked under the staircase, looked up on the ceiling, checked floorboards--and wasn't particularly surprised to find that the source was simply the room itself. It was interesting and a little strange to be subjected to a parlor trick, a product of magic that she could neither pinpoint, nor control.
What confused her the most though is the complete absence of anything particularly dangerous. Certainly, there should be something here to add to the gore and screams of this room? It's only natural that any visitors should be made to fit in...but perhaps it was merely meant to throw people off guard? She made a note to herself to remain on guard.
FLOOR TWENTY-FIVE
There were so many flowers here. So many floors that lead to the outdoors; a true outdoors that was far greater than anything she was able to create in her house. The flowers were real, although none of them talked, and the grass was soft. The way that it was so unlike anything she might have imagined was a small pleasure in and of itself.
She would spend quite a bit of time on this floor, collecting a bouquet of flowers for herself, laying in the grass with the flowers she's collected held close and staring up at the ceiling. It can't quite be called "outside," and yet, even without having been allowed to step outside herself, she's certain that this replicates it perfectly. At the very least it's closer to it than she's ever gotten.
no subject
I... I don't think I want to know the answer to that, honestly.
no subject
[She's been staring at his hat for a few moments now, so perhaps it'll come as no surprise when her response to his discomfort is to try and take it and try it on herself.]
no subject
What are you...
[She puts his hat on her head and that seems to shove him back into action. He reaches for it, going to snatch it back.]
Give it back!
no subject
[She backs away, placing her hands on her head--holding his hat down and shaking her head.]
...I don't want to. [A pause, then seemingly out of no where she adds,] Your hair is messy.
no subject
[He knows it's not. Hat hair rarely happens to him.]
Give it back. [HOLDING OUT HIS HAND. HIS HAT. GIVE IT BACK. NOW.]
no subject
[She seems genuinely curious.]
no subject
I... I don't know. But it really isn't nice to take other people's things like that!
no subject
You wouldn't try to to take it back?
[She takes his hat off, stares at it, turns it inside out--looking for anything unusual about it.]
Some people get really mad when you don't return things to where they were.
no subject
no subject
It isn't nice to try and take things from people like that! You'll lose your hands if you do.
[But since he's being mean she's leaving! Up the stairs, and and she's taking the hat with her!]
no subject
[OH MY GOD???? WHAT JUST EVEN???
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF UGH. HE. WHAT. SHE. HIS HAT???
Czes follows after her!]
H-Hey! Wait! You can't just run off like that!
no subject
On the plus side, she dropped his hat, so it should be easy enough for him to get it back now.]
no subject
Was that... [breathe, Czes. Breathe.] did you really have to do that?
no subject
Mm. I wanted to.
no subject
[He frowns, looking back down the staircase, thankful to be off of that bloodied floor.]
no subject
You weren't? [She considers that for a moment.] ...is that hat important to you?
no subject