towerofanimus | 01.5 - Nightmares Within Nightmares

Entry tags:

01.5 - Nightmares Within Nightmares

Characters: Kain and anyone else
Setting: Dorms (Room 3-06 and nearby), Floor 61
Format: Prose to start, happy to follow with either
Summary: Kain is back, after two months wandering the husk of his dead world. He's not taking it terribly well.
Warnings: An angsty and volatile dragoon?

Darkness. Cold. Solitary suffering in the ruined remains of the world he had once saved, that was the existence he had come to know so well in these past... how long? Time had quickly begun to lose meaning, when the same grey sky and same blackened land was all there was. Which was why when he felt soft sheets beneath him and heard voices somewhere nearby that he jolted sharply, violently awake. He tossed aside the sheets, gasped, coughed, and passed his hands over his face as he tried to get his bearings. When his hands reached the collar around his neck, things began to make a sick sort of sense.

The Tower. I've been returned to The Tower.

And then a sick feeling came to his stomach, as he could no longer deny that the letter from his first morning had been truthful. His world was destroyed. Those were the remains of it. Heedless of anyone that might have also been in the room, he bolted for the door. He needed to breathe. He needed water. He needed to be away, to be somewhere high, if he could find it.... but that would have to wait until later. The bathrooms were closest. He would duck into the first one that he found, to splash water on his face and to drink. To collect and compose himself, and fight back the urge to have an ugly and undignified emotional outburst. Or an uglier one than he was already having.

-

The Tower had... changed since he had last explored it. To his knowledge, the graveyard had been at the very top. But he had gone thirteen floors past that, for the stairs kept leading ever higher and higher. This was mad. This was impossible. Was this a further sign that he had somehow lost his mind?

This was as good a floor as any to stop and rest and try to recompose himself. A blue sky and warm weather was comforting, after what he had been through. And he had yet to notice that the hills and clouds quite literally had eyes. So he stretched, and then he found a rock to sit on, and he breathed deeply....

Wait. Was that a chocobo rushing through the grass? That was a chocobo, wasn't it? When was the last time he had eaten roast chocobo? Far too long. Well then, this was a chance to rectify that, wasn't it? And roast chocobo would be a far finer meal than the dusty bars that The Tower administrators were providing. He gripped his makeshift spear and lowered himself so that the high grass concealed him. Let it come closer, just a bit closer, just within range of a good, long jump... and he hoped, as he waited, that something or someone wouldn't show up and frighten it away.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Although there were others on the floor, typically there were more than there were this morning and Cecil felt this was indicative that perhaps Diarmuid could use some friendly company. She was glad she had thought to wake early in favor of checking up on him. She also told herself repeatedly that she only wished to see him because she was worried about him, but the insistence didn't quite seem as sincere even to herself as she knew it should have.

The fact that she had to tell herself twice to leave the dress in her room on the way to the washroom was also testament that it likely wasn't the only reason she was going to see Diarmuid. She left the washroom in her gambeson and breeches though, and she felt less assuming for it, so the paladin was headed back down the hall for the stairs when a man in a hurry nearly bowled her over.

"Oh! My apologies!"

Of course he hadn't been watching where he was going. While it was something of a relief to know that there were people here, he was fine with them just existing. They didn't need to make contact with him. But here he was, just blundering into someone in his haste, and reflexive politeness had him recoiling, and half-bowing, and uttering an apology.

"I-I... forgive me. I was..."

He turned his head to look at who he was apologizing to, and the first quick glance nearly made his heart stop. Cecil? He suddenly straightened and sprang back, eyes wide and no small amount shocked. But that meant he was really looking at her... and that shock became confusion. No. Not Cecil. A woman that looked astonishingly like him, but...

He attempted to speak again, but words were failing him.

It was time to take some time out from shadowing his mark. Such constant watching any one person for any length of time quickly becomes tedious and although it is necessary and Sephiroth won't slack off from stalking after Ryoji for very long - but the little breaks where he's not actually watching would add to the tension if nothing else.

It had been a while since Sephiroth had checked out the torture chamber (Fl 59), not having anything/one to practice on somewhat drained the appeal of visiting there very often. And there were the constant unseen lurkers in that room that he wasn't confident enough would only remain waiting around the iron maiden, if he decided to make it one of his more regular haunts.

Stepping from the lift into the grass, Sephiroth takes a curious look around the floor as he does for every floor he has to go onto. He knows well enough to watch out for the pits hidden in the grass and carefully treads out his path towards the stairwell. On route, the blood-stained, broken Chocobo catches his attention from a fair distance off and Sephiroth pauses just to watch it for a while - being at a respectable enough distance from it. Damn, so this is what happens when they tried to transplant Gaian monsters here...

The chocobo continued to stride carelessly closer to the concealed dragoon's position, stopping occasionally to take a bite of the tall grass. It was during one of those bites, when Kain was sure that it was preoccupied, that he sprang from his hiding spot. With inhuman speed he ascended, brought his spear about, and descended upon the bird. It was a blur, and over in an instant. He had impaled it clear through the heart, and done it with almost enough force to pin the chocobo to the ground. All that was left was its death throes and its hideous squawking.

"Tch...!" And to avoid the frantic kicking of its legs. He wore a helm and armored gloves, but had nothing to protect his far more vulnerable midsection. Another, shorter leap took him to the other side of the bird, and that's when he actually looked at the thing. Was it diseased? Injured? Harried by some other monster? It kicked and thrashed in the dirt as it bled out, but its state wasn't entirely his fault. Why was it in such poor shape? Why?

He had yet to notice that Sephiroth was watching.

Sephiroth wasn't sure when he registered the movement. Whether it was the rustle of the grass, the swoosh of the spear as it ripped through the air, or even the startled waaark of the Chocobo as it was impaled so suddenly. What was undoubtable though was the speed at which the armored Kain executed his attack. It was worthy enough to earn a raised eyebrow from Sephiroth yet he did not move from his spot just yet. Impressive.

There could be unseen pitfalls in the grass, should he approach the other resident. Besides he could observe just well enough from the safe distance, even as the Chocobo finished dying and it's flailing legs fell back into the cover of the tall grass. He wondered what could have driven the ambush of the monster, it certainly hadn't looked like it was aggressive enough to attack someone directly - being as broken as it appeared.

He's not one to make a comment loud enough for Kain to hear, nor does he really know what would be appropriate to say and so for now he will continue to watch only.

He could stare and gawk and ponder the why all day, but what good would it do him? With resignation, he pulled the makeshift knife he had made for himself, and moved in to slit the bird's throat. Best to finish it off as fast as possible. The poor creature had suffered enough, by the looks of it.

"...I wonder if it's even fit to eat." No harm in talking to himself, out here, he was sure. If there was anything lurking, it likely already knew that he was here. When the last of the life had left the chocobo, he pulled the spear free, wiping it clean on the high grass.

...and then he was sure that he caught some movement in the distance. Flipping his spear about and at the ready, he called out, wary. "Who's there?"

The dorm floors are a double-edged sword for Diarmuid right now. There are more people for his curse to affect on them, but they are also completely safe so that those who are already affected and, more importantly, distracted by his curse. That is why he's been spending a lot of time moving through the dorm floors these last few days.

He's fortunate right now. He seems to have lost most of the people following him and so he pauses near the bathrooms to take a moment to gather his focus again. It's during this pause that he is almost knocked over by someone exiting the bathroom.

For a moment, Diarmuid is worried it is another person affected by his curse jumping him, but when he gets a look at the man's face, that idea is quickly driven away. The barely restrained sick look combined with the need to be away deep in the man's eyes reminds Diarmuid sharply of those first impulses he'd felt when he'd arrived in the tower.

"Try to be at ease, friend. This place holds great danger for those who don't know it, and even if the urge to run is strong, it is not a good idea until you are more settled. I will be glad to assist you if you would accept my offer of aid."

Of course, he has no idea that this isn't Kain's first time in the tower...

He wondered how long it was going to be take before the other warrior noticed him, then again Sephiroth wasn't going out of his way to be noticed either.

The man remained stood still as ever, stark silver and black on top of the green which just comes to Sephiroth's waist. Apparently unmoved by the spear being raised in his direction, nor the call out. There was distance he'd have to cover to get to Sephiroth if he were going to attack and he's got faith enough in his own agility to be able to move in time should it come to that.

Either way, Sephiroth raises both hands slightly to show he's empty handed then turns his palms towards Kain and lowers them back behind his waist a little in a slight bend of the knees. The easiest way to demonstrate not being a threat, at least for the time being.

"Don't worry, I'm not about to jump you."

He's only the slightest bit aware that he almost bowled someone over. A sound leaves his lips, not quite a coherent apology but still apologetic-sounding, as he makes a beeline for a sink and fumbles with the taps. He seemed to be unsure how to work them, seemed to be trying to find something to pump rather than turn.

"...I know of the danger." And the cold water is turned on, and splashed upon his face. His blond hair, long and tied, dips over his shoulder and into the sink. "I know it well."

He cups his hands, pooling water in them so he may drink. And drink he does, greedily, before passing his hands over his face once more. And with a long exhalation he looks up from the sink, looks to Diarmuid.... and seems blessedly unaffected by the man's curse. He looks shaken, and distrustful, and not the least bit enraptured.

"...you are...?"

Hands up and showing that he's unarmed? Kain only partially trusts that. The man might be a mage or a wizard of some sort. But that's no reason to be excessively hostile. He lowers his spear, but continues to grip it tightly.

"Are you just passing through, then?" There's no ease or relaxation in his posture. Kain is the very image of a man who expects the worst to happen at any moment. And that helm does much to conceal most of his expression.

Well at least he wasn't being perceived as enough of a threat to warrant that spear still being raised. Alright, Kain wasn't disarming completely but then Sephiroth probably wouldn't in his position either. Similarly to how the other man kept himself on that edge of ready-to-strike should the need arise. In fact, Sephiroth had taken a precautionary glance around as well, before answering.

"I was. It caught my eye." Sephiroth inclines his head forwards a little in a gesture towards where the Chocobo had fallen. He doesn't volunteer any other information, such as that he recognizes the species, just yet - Kain is a stranger after all and requires all of the attention his gleaming green eyes are giving. First impressions are vital.

Diarmuid watches the man as he gathers the water as if he hasn't seen any in a very long time. It's odd, even if the man's words seem to clear things up a little. While he hasn't met anyone yet who spent time on their home world after being sent away from this place, Diarmuid has heard of it. Might that be why this man is so confused? He has just returned from his world?

And if he is missing water so much, that tells Diarmuid one sad fact. Most likely, whatever world the man had come from was destroyed as they had been told all of their worlds were.

Might the administrators actually not be lying about that after all?

Pushing that unsettling thought away, Diarmuid bows slightly, though the man might miss it with how he his focusing on the water, "My apologies. I assumed from the look on your face you were new to this place. Now I can see that doesn't seem to be the case. My name is Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, First Warrior of the Fianna, and my offer of assistance is still open if you need it. I don't know if you do or not, though. Would I be correct in assuming from your words that you have been here before?"

Kain turned his head towards the now quite dead chocobo, and tsked. "A pitiful thing. A chocobo this wounded shouldn't have been out roaming the fields."

He's quick to lift his head, though. He's getting the feeling that the other man's eyes haven't left him, and are assessing him closely. He's not sure that he much likes the feeling.

He had drank, he had breathed, he had, without intending to, begun to talk to another living being... these were valuable steps to getting back into his right mind. Kain straightened himself, patting his wet hands dry absently.

"I can hardly fault you for assuming that much. Forgive me for my... my lack of composure." And, quite abruptly, the shaken look leaves him. This is a man quite practiced on putting on a serious and impassive mask. And this Diarmuid gave him something to focus on that wasn't ash and ruin and horror.

"I am Kain Highwind, a Dragoon of the kingdom of Baron." Which no longer existed. Which was nothing but ash. While he hesitates a moment, his expression doesn't shift. "I have been here before, if not for terribly long. About a month by this place's reckoning, if that. You speak of assistance... do you know someone that can repair weaponry and armor, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne?"

Edited 2013-04-06 02:45 (UTC)

"It is all right, good Knight. This place is good at throwing us off our guards and making us act in ways would not normally act," Diarmuid smiles, brushing off the apology since he had not been offended by the other man's words or actions. "Depending on how badly damaged your armor and weapons are, I might be able to help you. I don't have a great deal of knowledge when it comes to making weapons and armor, but I have repaired many a damaged spear or chest piece out in the fields of battle."

He pauses a moment as something the man had said finally strikes him, "You called yourself a dragoon, did you not? Tell me, are you acquainted with a white haired woman by the name of Cecil? She is a friend of mine and not long ago was telling me of an old friend of hers who was a dragoon. The title is not one I am that familiar with from my world which is why I ask."

His mood and expression give a slight lift when he hears Diamuid mention spears. Perhaps he could truly be of some help. "A broken spear is what I seek to repair. When I arrived, the rulers of this tower thought that shattering my Holy Lance into enough pieces to wedge it into a box was a reasonable thing to do."

But spear talk may need to wait, for... well, the man was saying strange things. "I'm acquainted with a white-haired man named Cecil. Though he's known for his delicate looks, I'd hardly think he could be mistaken for a woman." And he laughs, though it's dry and brief. "But yes, I am a dragoon." The once-captain of Baron's dragoons, even. But that, too, had passed...

It would be hard to miss how he looked at her as though he'd seen a ghost. More eerie than that, though, was how much he reminded Cecil of someone from her past as well. The same hair, the same eyes... even the facial bone structure was uncannily similar, only sharper, with angles where curves should be. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought that it was Sir Ricard, Kain's father. It had to be... The familiarity couldn't make any sense any other way.

"Are... Are you... all right?" Cecil asked, mentally shaking off her musings about the man's appearance and forcing herself to focus on the matter at hand. She took in the other details about him and realized he was indeed a new arrival. "Please, don't concern yourself with me. I see that you are recently arrived and I apologize. I am deeply sorry that you have been brought here."

She put out a hand in greeting.

"I am Cecil Harvey."

"Cecil Harvey?" He looked down at her offered hand, but did not take it, for he scarcely believed that it was real. This wasn't Cecil, it couldn't be Cecil, but she called herself his name, and...

...he had gone mad. Completely, utterly mad. There. That was the explanation. He had collapsed in the dead wasteland that was once the Kingdom of Baron, and simply lost all sense, and this was the result.

He fell back heavily against the wall, letting out a sound that was mid-way between a laugh and a sob.

"No. No, I am not alright."

Edited 2013-04-06 05:02 (UTC)

Cecil gasped when he fell back and hurried to his side to help. She tried to support his weight so that he wouldn't slide down the wall and land on the floor harshly, worried he might accidentally injure himself in his condition.

"You're in shock," she said quietly, her voice low and as soothing as she could make it. "I know this is a lot to take in at once. Just... try to gather your wits about you. Breathe deeply. Calm down. I'll stay right here with you. You're safe here for the moment, I promise."

Gravity seemed quite intent in pulling Kain down to the floor, but Cecil's efforts made sure that he didn't hurt himself in the process. His legs didn't want to support him for the moment. Everything seemed to be crashing in on him at once.

"Safe? Safe, no, no... this tower isn't safe." He laughed again, shook his head, made proper eye contact with her and put a hand on her forearm. "If this is that tower. If I'm not dying in the ashes of..." Abruptly, his voice caught, and his grip upon her arm became tighter.

Diarmuid's face falls when he hears how the man's weapon has been treated. In fact, his voice sounds angered when he speaks, "That is no way to treat such a fine weapon. Must this place disgrace all that it touches? I will still be glad to look at it, but I am afraid that might be beyond my skill to repair. You have my deepest apologies if that is the case."

"This Cecil...I know for a fact is a woman. Fate...required certain measures for me to save her life recently, so I know this beyond doubt. However, this place draws many people from different worlds and alternate realities to it. I have every reason to believe this may be a version of the person you know only from a world where she was born female instead of male."

He pauses a moment and then adds almost absently, "She spoke of her friend who was a dragoon as well, as I mentioned. Only that person was also a female. Could it be you both were born the opposite sex on her world?"

"I would be grateful if you could. If nothing can be done, nothing can be done. I can craft myself a serviceable replacement. But if I'm to face the horrors that this tower houses...." He left the rest unsaid. Best to be as well-armed as possible. And besides, Diarmuid was full of helpful, reasonable-seeming explanations.

"...certain measures?" Kain wasn't sure that he liked the sound of that. And then he wasn't sure why he wasn't sure that he liked the sound of that. It was rather like he had a swarm of angry, buzzing insects inside his head. He grimaced, and then made an effort to comprehend the rest of it, instead. "I cannot deny that this place draws in those from many worlds. What you say... might have merit..."

Then he just went completely silent and perplexed, trying to imagine himself as a woman. And then sighed deeply and passed a hand over his face.

Predictably, Cecil allowed herself to be dragged down with him. She was thinking about how best she could help him, but what he said shocked her to her core and all other thoughts immediately disappeared from her mind. The paladin cupped his face in her hands and she stared back at him hard, unfazed by how he was actually hurting her a little.

"What? What did you say?" Her voice had lost all the calm and control it'd had just moments ago. There was little left but the rasping of quick, shallow breath and emotion. Her gut fluttered madly and she felt her frame trembling just slightly with adrenaline. Was it true...? Did he really mean...? "Do you mean to say you've been here before?"

If he was telling the truth, then he knew. He knew, didn't he? He'd been sent back to his homeworld and he'd lived. Surely that meant that their worlds still existed, didn't they?

"That wouldn't have stopped it from gutting you if it had known you were there."

There are more grotesque monsters that lurk around the Tower, Sephiroth knows this for a fact and none of them are worth such pity. Though how mutated the simple Chocobo has become in being transferred here, is probably only another white elephant to be thinking too much about or taking personally. Sephiroth doesn't know enough at all about how monsters are in the Tower, only what he needs to know - how to kill them and which ones are worth hunting when he feels like a challenge.

After an age of unblinking observation, those green eyes blink slowly and look away from Kain back towards the dead creature. Whatever was gleaned from Kain's physical appearance and armored attire would take time to be formed into an opinion. Sephiroth isn't one to judge someone so quickly.

"Though I'm curious why you felt the need for such an expeditious ambush."

Diarmuid shakes his head, "Don't give up on your weapon so quickly. I am far from the most skilled craftsman in this place. If I cannot help you, surely there will be someone within the tower who can. You can't have been the only one to arrive with a weapon in such condition." Though, Diarmuid can't help but be even more grateful that usual that his weapon is literally a part of himself. How crushed would he have been to find his beloved spear in so many pieces in his trunk?

A light blush covers his face when Kain repeats those words, "Ah...yes, but as a fellow knight how could I just stand by and allow her to die? She is my friend and a skilled warrior. It was nothing more than I would have done for anyone who I care for." He pauses when he sees the discomfort on Kain's face. Cautiously, he reaches out and touches the man's shoulder, "Lets not worry about that for now. You seem to be in pain. Is there anything I can do for you? I am no healer, but..."

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 3

01.5 - Nightmares Within Nightmares

Nearby 3-06

no subject

Floor 61

no subject

no subject

no subject

Nearby 3-06

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject