☾ ℭecil ℌarvey (AU) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
proteusmoon) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-03-24 05:13 am
proteusmoon) wrote in towerofanimus2013-03-24 05:13 am
003. ☾ Seasons
Characters: [AU1] Cecil Harvey (proteusmoon) ; open like a 7-11!
Setting: Various!
Format: Prose to start with, but if you prefer brackets, that's perfectly fine.
Summary: Catch-all events post for Cecil! This includes the Like A Lion mod event and the Deadman Wonderland player plot. Backdated for the appropriate seasonal times, of course.
Warnings: Cecil has been infected by the Nameless Worm, part of Wretched Egg's doing, making her a Deadman now. This means she can control her blood outside of her body. If that squicks you, I suggest summer or autumn since she won't be using her Branch of Sin in either scenarios. Speaking of, her Branch of Sin is full-body armor, which takes the shape of her Dark Knight armor from her canon. (Pretend it's less obviously masculine and red, heh.)
Spring: Floor 43
The jail was dark and dank, and Cecil couldn't genuinely tell if the lack of light was due to the bizarre rain that poured down throughout the Tower, or if this floor had always been like this. She had never been to this level before, but she'd received a notice the other day that she'd been chosen to work as a jailer on it and while she loathed doing anything for the administrators, if the choice was between obeying and disobeying, and thus possibly causing the suffering of her fellow "refugees", then she would obey.
And so obey she had. In the darkness though, she could barely see anything in front of her as she walked from one cellblock to the next, armed with her sword and shield. She was afraid, but she was more afraid of what the consequences would be if she refused to fulfill her duties, so she soldiered on, shaking her worries from her mind and continuing onward. From what she had seen so far of this prison floor, however, there were no prisoners...
An evil little sound caught her attention to her left and Cecil froze in step. She listened carefully and let her instincts take over. She heard the creature in the black turn hostile before it ever got close and she raised her shield to deflect its attack. The monster screeched in pain as she bashed it away, but while she was so focused on the one in front of her, she did not realize that this was an ambush until she felt a flurry of whips lash at her back. Cecil screamed, both in surprise and pain, and the attack dropped her to a knee where she remained with her eyes squeezed shut tightly.
Before she opened them, she felt the familiar thrum of rainfall on armor and knew it was impossible immediately. She had no armor and upon opening her eyes, she only felt more confused, for she felt warmth and her vision was limited, as though obstructed by a helm. She had no time to ponder further though, for the monsters attacking weren't finished and Cecil reflexively lunged, swinging her sword in a a wide arc. She felt the satisfying sensation of resistance giving way beneath as her blade cut through monster flesh and she heard the death cries of the creatures she'd taken down. Convinced it was over, she thought to remove her helm and instead found it instantly retracted.
Even in the dark, Cecil could see the blood this close to her face. She would recognize the form it took now as it shimmered in the dim lighting over her body like a second skin anywhere, at any time, regardless of how many years had passed, regardless of how many oaths to protect she had taken.
And she was devastated to realize the Dark Knight had never truly left her.
Summer: Dormitories
Cecil hated summer. Well, no, that wasn't entirely true; she actually did not particularly mind the warmer seasons, but the Tower's version of summer to her consisted of temperatures and dangerous repercussions that were only fitting for a desert— a rather life-threatening one back home on the Blue Planet that often claimed victims for itself. The experience of having crossed that desert a few times paled in comparison to this in some ways, but in others had been more difficult. Cecil had opted not to try wearing her gambeson and breeches in this heat, choosing instead the modest dress that had been in her trunk since it was very lightweight and comparatively cooler on her than the thick, padded gambeson. She wore no boots either and stayed wandering the dormitories, using her white magic where she could to heal those suffering from heat illnesses. She would run out of her mana eventually and require rest to recover, but while the high temperature only strained her instead of completely rendering her incapable of doing anything, she could not just stand by idly and do nothing at all.
Autumn: Floor 38
Autumn was perhaps the paladin's favorite time of year and so far, this had remained true inside Tower Animus. Nothing had seemed particularly lethal just yet, but the copious amounts of leaves falling throughout the floors was... extremely inconvenient. She could push one pile of the leaves aside and clear a path only to turn around and find another was well on its way to dwarfing the first. It wasn't long before they'd crowded her out of her dormitory and Cecil had had no choice but to relocate.
The lounge was one of the floors she hadn't visited before, but once she stepped out onto it, she decided rather quickly that it was one of the few she did not mind. The furniture combined with the huge mounds of leaves reminded her a lot of childhood days long lost when she and her friends would play amongst the various piles raked together. She smiled to herself, remembering, though her heart grew heavy from missing those times and her loved ones. Still, perhaps in memory of them — and because she seemed alone on the floor so far — the white knight approached one of the small hills and fell backwards into it, staring up out the glass walls at the sky outside the Tower.
Winter: Floor 86
The fae had managed to maintain the warmth of summer in their meadow longer than most of the other unique climate floors. Cecil had discovered this by accident, but she quickly learned that even the fairies in their wisdom and knowledge of magic and nature were not invincible to the malice of the Tower. They, too, seemed victims as much as the imprisoned and it almost made Cecil sad to see the lovely flowers and long, lush green grass freeze over. The blizzard as it descended blew many of the leaves leftover from autumn far from her, but she'd been able to keep just enough to pack a sort of makeshift blanket of them over her where she had dug a hole within the snow to spare her from the chilling wind.
The leaves had all lost their bright, beautiful reds and fading greens because of the cold, and nothing was left but dry yellows and pale browns. Cecil huddled amongst their corpses desperately, knowing she could not survive the trip back to the dormitories and accepting that sooner or later, she would probably die here. The new ability she had garnered somehow to cover her body in armor could probably save her for a while longer, since it encased her in a manner very much like her actual armor had, but Cecil could not bring herself to wear it, not even if it meant saving her. Since she'd discovered it during the rains, she'd felt a special sort of damned, for who else could convince themselves that they had changed when all along the black little secret remained dormant deep within them?
No, she would not. She would live as a paladin or die as nothing. She supposed it was the most she could hope for that she had been able to survive for so long, especially after the horrors of last month. It's not permanent... It is transient... she told herself, but somehow it was not as comforting a thought as she had prayed it would be.
proteusmoon) ; open like a 7-11!Setting: Various!
Format: Prose to start with, but if you prefer brackets, that's perfectly fine.
Summary: Catch-all events post for Cecil! This includes the Like A Lion mod event and the Deadman Wonderland player plot. Backdated for the appropriate seasonal times, of course.
Warnings: Cecil has been infected by the Nameless Worm, part of Wretched Egg's doing, making her a Deadman now. This means she can control her blood outside of her body. If that squicks you, I suggest summer or autumn since she won't be using her Branch of Sin in either scenarios. Speaking of, her Branch of Sin is full-body armor, which takes the shape of her Dark Knight armor from her canon. (Pretend it's less obviously masculine and red, heh.)
Spring: Floor 43
The jail was dark and dank, and Cecil couldn't genuinely tell if the lack of light was due to the bizarre rain that poured down throughout the Tower, or if this floor had always been like this. She had never been to this level before, but she'd received a notice the other day that she'd been chosen to work as a jailer on it and while she loathed doing anything for the administrators, if the choice was between obeying and disobeying, and thus possibly causing the suffering of her fellow "refugees", then she would obey.
And so obey she had. In the darkness though, she could barely see anything in front of her as she walked from one cellblock to the next, armed with her sword and shield. She was afraid, but she was more afraid of what the consequences would be if she refused to fulfill her duties, so she soldiered on, shaking her worries from her mind and continuing onward. From what she had seen so far of this prison floor, however, there were no prisoners...
An evil little sound caught her attention to her left and Cecil froze in step. She listened carefully and let her instincts take over. She heard the creature in the black turn hostile before it ever got close and she raised her shield to deflect its attack. The monster screeched in pain as she bashed it away, but while she was so focused on the one in front of her, she did not realize that this was an ambush until she felt a flurry of whips lash at her back. Cecil screamed, both in surprise and pain, and the attack dropped her to a knee where she remained with her eyes squeezed shut tightly.
Before she opened them, she felt the familiar thrum of rainfall on armor and knew it was impossible immediately. She had no armor and upon opening her eyes, she only felt more confused, for she felt warmth and her vision was limited, as though obstructed by a helm. She had no time to ponder further though, for the monsters attacking weren't finished and Cecil reflexively lunged, swinging her sword in a a wide arc. She felt the satisfying sensation of resistance giving way beneath as her blade cut through monster flesh and she heard the death cries of the creatures she'd taken down. Convinced it was over, she thought to remove her helm and instead found it instantly retracted.
Even in the dark, Cecil could see the blood this close to her face. She would recognize the form it took now as it shimmered in the dim lighting over her body like a second skin anywhere, at any time, regardless of how many years had passed, regardless of how many oaths to protect she had taken.
And she was devastated to realize the Dark Knight had never truly left her.
Summer: Dormitories
Cecil hated summer. Well, no, that wasn't entirely true; she actually did not particularly mind the warmer seasons, but the Tower's version of summer to her consisted of temperatures and dangerous repercussions that were only fitting for a desert— a rather life-threatening one back home on the Blue Planet that often claimed victims for itself. The experience of having crossed that desert a few times paled in comparison to this in some ways, but in others had been more difficult. Cecil had opted not to try wearing her gambeson and breeches in this heat, choosing instead the modest dress that had been in her trunk since it was very lightweight and comparatively cooler on her than the thick, padded gambeson. She wore no boots either and stayed wandering the dormitories, using her white magic where she could to heal those suffering from heat illnesses. She would run out of her mana eventually and require rest to recover, but while the high temperature only strained her instead of completely rendering her incapable of doing anything, she could not just stand by idly and do nothing at all.
Autumn: Floor 38
Autumn was perhaps the paladin's favorite time of year and so far, this had remained true inside Tower Animus. Nothing had seemed particularly lethal just yet, but the copious amounts of leaves falling throughout the floors was... extremely inconvenient. She could push one pile of the leaves aside and clear a path only to turn around and find another was well on its way to dwarfing the first. It wasn't long before they'd crowded her out of her dormitory and Cecil had had no choice but to relocate.
The lounge was one of the floors she hadn't visited before, but once she stepped out onto it, she decided rather quickly that it was one of the few she did not mind. The furniture combined with the huge mounds of leaves reminded her a lot of childhood days long lost when she and her friends would play amongst the various piles raked together. She smiled to herself, remembering, though her heart grew heavy from missing those times and her loved ones. Still, perhaps in memory of them — and because she seemed alone on the floor so far — the white knight approached one of the small hills and fell backwards into it, staring up out the glass walls at the sky outside the Tower.
Winter: Floor 86
The fae had managed to maintain the warmth of summer in their meadow longer than most of the other unique climate floors. Cecil had discovered this by accident, but she quickly learned that even the fairies in their wisdom and knowledge of magic and nature were not invincible to the malice of the Tower. They, too, seemed victims as much as the imprisoned and it almost made Cecil sad to see the lovely flowers and long, lush green grass freeze over. The blizzard as it descended blew many of the leaves leftover from autumn far from her, but she'd been able to keep just enough to pack a sort of makeshift blanket of them over her where she had dug a hole within the snow to spare her from the chilling wind.
The leaves had all lost their bright, beautiful reds and fading greens because of the cold, and nothing was left but dry yellows and pale browns. Cecil huddled amongst their corpses desperately, knowing she could not survive the trip back to the dormitories and accepting that sooner or later, she would probably die here. The new ability she had garnered somehow to cover her body in armor could probably save her for a while longer, since it encased her in a manner very much like her actual armor had, but Cecil could not bring herself to wear it, not even if it meant saving her. Since she'd discovered it during the rains, she'd felt a special sort of damned, for who else could convince themselves that they had changed when all along the black little secret remained dormant deep within them?
No, she would not. She would live as a paladin or die as nothing. She supposed it was the most she could hope for that she had been able to survive for so long, especially after the horrors of last month. It's not permanent... It is transient... she told herself, but somehow it was not as comforting a thought as she had prayed it would be.
no subject
That worrying thought pushes him to move faster and soon he has them both bundled into a cocoon of of their clothes warmed by body heat. Cecil is curled into his lap, pressed against his chest so that he can slow her loss of heat as much as possible. It is an intimate position especially with their state of undress, but that kind of thing is the farthest thing from his mind. Instead, he's focused completely saving the life of his fellow knight and friend.
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"Rose... Cid, I'm sorry... I'm sorry... It's my fault... I did this..." she whispers, and soon small choked sobs are coming from her, but her body doesn't have the resources to waste on tears. "...It's all my fault. Kain won't come home... because of me... Cid, I'm sorry..."
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Later, they can be embarrassed about how intimate this all is. And he is sure they will both be embarrassed, that is why it is probably better that she not talk right now. She seems to be very caught up in her memories, and he doesn't want her to say anything that she might regret later. To help quiet her, he takes a deep breath.
And starts singing.
He doesn't like hearing himself, but over and over again he has had people tell him that his voice calms and comfort them. Hopefully, it will be true in this case as well.
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Cecil continues to murmur even while she vaguely hears a deep, purr of a voice trying to soothe her, its sound familiar, but she can't quite place it.
"I can't be what they want... I'm not a royal... I'm not fit for this... I am not... not..."
It's not until the comforting words turn melodic that the paladin begins to finally quiet. She eventually trails off and stays curled up in Diarmuid's lap, burrowed in his arms, soaking up his endless body heat. The singing comforts her soul, though she does not understand the words of the song or know its melody. It doesn't take very long for her to be silent and still, having been lulled to sleep.
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He keeps singing even after she has fallen asleep, content to stay there with her as long as he has to to make sure she will be okay.
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"It's all right, Cecil. You're safe. Take your time waking up."
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Still, as her mind tries to find its way back to alertness, her other senses begin to awaken as well and soon, she's aware of the warmth surrounding her. She distinctly recalls all heat leaving her and everything becomes hazy after that. Slowly, she brings up the fragmented and shadowed memories of her hallucinations, the feel of gentle movement, the sound of singing...
Diarmuid obviously found her, but how did he save her? Cecil shifts her body a little to gauge the strength gathered in her limbs. As she does, her breasts brush against smoothness and that prompts her to force her eyes open again. She looks down and hypothermia must still be clinging to her, because her only reaction is:
"We're naked."
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"Please forgive me... My only thought was to keep you alive..."
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"I believe you," she answers softly, her voice practically a whisper. She slides her arms around his neck, which brings their chests flush together, and the white knight feels gooseflesh erupt on her skin from the increase of warmth, but she stays close. "I'm sorry... to be a burden. I don't deserve your help."
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He takes a deep breath to refocus himself, his arm coming up to the center of her back to steady her, "When you feel stronger, we should get you back to your room. The blizzard has passed and while cold, I believe the temperatures are starting to rise back toward normal. I would like to get you bundled into some dry clothes if you have them and then some blankets."
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Cecil bites off her explanation rather abruptly, remembering suddenly that she isn't being entirely truthful to Diarmuid. There is something else she could use— the blood armor. Although Diarmuid cannot see her face, she is becoming emotional just thinking about it again.
No. I won't.
Like earlier, she resolves to choose death over resorting to the Dark Knight's help. She doesn't understand how she's gained such an ability, but it doesn't matter to her.
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"I am not so worried about how warm it is. I am more worried about if it is dry or not. If so, it can be a dry inner layer close to you. Whatever blankets we gather will hopefully be enough to provide the warmth you need until the temperatures fully normalize. Also, now that the blizzard has passed, hopefully I will be able to start a fire and have it stay going. That will also help a great deal," as he speaks, unconsciously, the hand he has at her back starts tracing light circles there in an attempt to comfort her.
Perhaps, deep down, he can tell she is more upset than she is letting on and is trying to help the only way he can without making things worse.
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"It should be. I keep it in the storage trunk at the foot of my bed. There are a few blankets inside as well. The last two weather shifts meant I did not need them very much."
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"If you think you can handle it, I will carry you to your room. There were very few people about because of the weather and I can move fast enough that even if we do run into someone, they will not see us. You can wear the top of my armor until we get here so you won't be completely naked. It is damp, but not so wet as your own clothes. I'll come back for them once I have you settled and warm in your room."
And he can put back on the rest of his armor. Though it is as wet as her clothes are since he was using them to insulate them from the cold of the floor, while it might be uncomfortable, Diarmuid won't get sick or anything from wearing wet clothing in this weather. Not to mention, he's sure she will be more comfortable with him not being completely naked when she starts coming fully back to herself.