Allen Walker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
whiteblackknight) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-03-30 10:55 pm
whiteblackknight) wrote in towerofanimus2013-03-30 10:55 pm
Entry tags:
Overture of Missing Innocence
Characters: Allen and open to all
Setting: Floor 13, Floor 27, March 31st
Format: All prose-y, at least to start with.
Summary: A very powerful monster anomalously appears and Allen manages to defeat it, at the cost of his superhuman arm. His attempt at resurrected it might prove to a be quite...unpleasant. If it doesn't outright kill him.
Warnings: Small amounts of blood and violence
--Floor 13, The Cathedral--
Twas a regular day of playing on the organ. And for a moment, it seemed almost a happy day--the sun was even out at the Cathedral. And unlike the earlier days' strange weather patterns, very little heat permeated from the radiating sun. It would've went out any second, Allen thought, but it was there for far longer. Or maybe it just felt that way. Then like *that*, it was over.
Sound does not carry well in the Cathedral. It was either the way the air was or, more likely, dark magic, but hearing something even across the aisle took some concentration. Being right next to someone was optimal, if you could hear them over the praying of invisible patrons. It was relaxing to Allen, if unnerving at times. But this day was different. And it was entirely subjective to Mr. Walker.
The cursed left eye of his awoke and turned into it's second form, a clear glass eye rimmed with a cog, and bathed the innards of the Cathedral in a black world. Sound returned. And so did the sight of ghastly creatures, wraith-like monsters that most certainly weren't there before. In his cursed eye's second form, these invisible freaks could even be detected. In this world, the praying voices were higher, more demented, and sounds in the room came to a logical normal. A heaving, bulky humanoid wearing a bronze metal suit dragged its bulky body towards Allen in a quite threatening manner, several red lights indicating that it was hungry to indulge in inflicting pain. A heavy drill whirred to life then with all the deadly intent that implies.
It was something that didn't quite belong in the daylight hours.
But if it was a fight it wanted, then a fight it would get. And it did.
Witnesses will see the last stage of the fight, as Allen's black arm has, in a last attempt, punctured through the drill of the ocean titan and out through where its head would be. The arm was crumbling from effort as it was pulled out and the giant toppled to the side. Mr. Walker himself is worse for the wear, as usual for a fight, but this time his arm was in even worse shape. It crumbled and wore away like it was made of parsley and several digits of the hand hand already fallen off. Allen just stared blankly at it. Composed. Almost apathetic to it.
"Mana..." he said as the room returned to the brisk light that it once was, sound returning to its normal all-time low.
--Floor 27, the Laboratory--
And this was the solution, or so he was told.
While Allen has never met anyone or anything that could replicate the effects of an Innocence weapon, there were ways to repair it. After hearing about the floor of technology and science, well, he made it his first priority. While wounded from his fight, they were fairly superficial and amounted to a few small scars and several bruises. A nice tea would fix those up in no time, provided another random super monster didn't attack. He'd be dead, anyway, as he is technically now unarmed. Literally.
Dozens of hi-tech trinkets lie around him. Twelve foot tall robot models stood, lifelessly, as Allen walked past them. These would not be getting up any time soon. He hoped.
Workbenches full of tools numbered well into the double digits and the boxes and closets full of machines were even more so in the other parts of the lab. Beakers sprung to life on all their own, concocting various potions and brews for unknown purposes. Or perhaps their technicians were simply out on break. That tended to happen. Except this time, Lenalee was not around to bring coffee. Allen could've used a little bit of the stuff right about now.
A bright flyer on the wall grabbed Allen's attention like a guillotine. It read, 'Attention--To Fix Broken Tools, Please Read the Following' as a bold white header on yellow backgrounds. Allen grasped at his deteriorating arm as he read it.
Setting: Floor 13, Floor 27, March 31st
Format: All prose-y, at least to start with.
Summary: A very powerful monster anomalously appears and Allen manages to defeat it, at the cost of his superhuman arm. His attempt at resurrected it might prove to a be quite...unpleasant. If it doesn't outright kill him.
Warnings: Small amounts of blood and violence
--Floor 13, The Cathedral--
Twas a regular day of playing on the organ. And for a moment, it seemed almost a happy day--the sun was even out at the Cathedral. And unlike the earlier days' strange weather patterns, very little heat permeated from the radiating sun. It would've went out any second, Allen thought, but it was there for far longer. Or maybe it just felt that way. Then like *that*, it was over.
Sound does not carry well in the Cathedral. It was either the way the air was or, more likely, dark magic, but hearing something even across the aisle took some concentration. Being right next to someone was optimal, if you could hear them over the praying of invisible patrons. It was relaxing to Allen, if unnerving at times. But this day was different. And it was entirely subjective to Mr. Walker.
The cursed left eye of his awoke and turned into it's second form, a clear glass eye rimmed with a cog, and bathed the innards of the Cathedral in a black world. Sound returned. And so did the sight of ghastly creatures, wraith-like monsters that most certainly weren't there before. In his cursed eye's second form, these invisible freaks could even be detected. In this world, the praying voices were higher, more demented, and sounds in the room came to a logical normal. A heaving, bulky humanoid wearing a bronze metal suit dragged its bulky body towards Allen in a quite threatening manner, several red lights indicating that it was hungry to indulge in inflicting pain. A heavy drill whirred to life then with all the deadly intent that implies.
It was something that didn't quite belong in the daylight hours.
But if it was a fight it wanted, then a fight it would get. And it did.
Witnesses will see the last stage of the fight, as Allen's black arm has, in a last attempt, punctured through the drill of the ocean titan and out through where its head would be. The arm was crumbling from effort as it was pulled out and the giant toppled to the side. Mr. Walker himself is worse for the wear, as usual for a fight, but this time his arm was in even worse shape. It crumbled and wore away like it was made of parsley and several digits of the hand hand already fallen off. Allen just stared blankly at it. Composed. Almost apathetic to it.
"Mana..." he said as the room returned to the brisk light that it once was, sound returning to its normal all-time low.
--Floor 27, the Laboratory--
And this was the solution, or so he was told.
While Allen has never met anyone or anything that could replicate the effects of an Innocence weapon, there were ways to repair it. After hearing about the floor of technology and science, well, he made it his first priority. While wounded from his fight, they were fairly superficial and amounted to a few small scars and several bruises. A nice tea would fix those up in no time, provided another random super monster didn't attack. He'd be dead, anyway, as he is technically now unarmed. Literally.
Dozens of hi-tech trinkets lie around him. Twelve foot tall robot models stood, lifelessly, as Allen walked past them. These would not be getting up any time soon. He hoped.
Workbenches full of tools numbered well into the double digits and the boxes and closets full of machines were even more so in the other parts of the lab. Beakers sprung to life on all their own, concocting various potions and brews for unknown purposes. Or perhaps their technicians were simply out on break. That tended to happen. Except this time, Lenalee was not around to bring coffee. Allen could've used a little bit of the stuff right about now.
A bright flyer on the wall grabbed Allen's attention like a guillotine. It read, 'Attention--To Fix Broken Tools, Please Read the Following' as a bold white header on yellow backgrounds. Allen grasped at his deteriorating arm as he read it.
Floor 13
"Having trouble?"
... His arm. Ah. He wasn't really sure what it was, but whatever it was it did look severely damaged.
Finally!
"A little bit."
To his credit, it hadn't separated itself from his body. But a big one attacking in broad daylight? That was going to raise a few issues. Allen seemed indifferent about it. "Only thing I'm really concerned about is...well, the big guys wandering out when they aren't supposed to. Heh heh, could've been bad if I wasn't ready for it."
His smile seemed genuine.
no subject
"I haven't seen you in a long while."
no subject
It was physically there, it mechanically moved with human precision, it was a thing of magic with science, and was probably none of those things. "I mean, I'm not a scientist. It's kind of always just been there to me." It still moved even though it still grumbled a little, like a pillar that was aging rapidly.
no subject
All of those years of knowledge are helpful at times, okay.
no subject
It certainly looked "human" in appearance. Tim flew around his head for a moment before landing on the hand as deftly as a bird might.
no subject
... "Well. How were you planning on fixing it?" He could throw the boy off the Tower and see if that fixed it but he had a feeling that plan wouldn't go over well.
no subject
"There's that floor with all of those machines." Mr. Walker wasn't a mason or machinist, but somebody there might know.
"I'll see if I can't get it fixed there. Do you remember what floor that is?"
no subject
Worth a shot, at least.
no subject
Like the flash of a life before one's eyes, Allen recalls a certain gentlemen laughing hysterically. His beady glasses fixated on his arm with a drill in his hand and torture in his heart. While he calmed down almost instantly, Allen could see that this other man might not be so inclined to not apply a painkiller.
"...shot."
no subject
It's kind of obvious, Allen.
no subject
Allen hesitates in elaborating. Tim noticeably shakes its head at these antics.
no subject
"You're quite a spirited little thing, aren't you?"
no subject
Allen gripped his failing arm. There seemed to be more time than he had thought. "Tim's gotten a few fans recently. Heh.
So what are you, anyway? Some kind of doctor?"
no subject
"A doctor? Now. Not anymore. I have been, before. Right now I work with technology. I also work with... well. Magic. I know quite a bit about how it works in my world. Probably more than nearly anyone else."
no subject
Allen scratched his head. What memories he has of that "one time" came back in full force and as visceral and vivid as if it had just happened.
no subject
Not since he's stared it in the face so often. It's downright boring now.
no subject
He nodded. "Sheba found a way to contain 'that' anyway."
no subject
He inclines his head to the doorway. "No sense in standing around here."
no subject
"Alright. Lead the way."