towerofanimus | A terrible thought has moved into my mind--

Characters: One brainwashed Princess of Hyrule and you!
Setting: Pick your poison
Format: Starting in prose since she... can't really talk, but I'll match you
Summary: Zelda's been turned into an advanced worker unit with a penchant for "mercy kills" when malfunctioning. This is certain to go over well with everyone involved.
Warnings: Character injury and death is very likely when she malfunctions! Please tell me what kind of damage you're okay with! Also minor mentions of blood and gore.

Functioning

On the surface, Zelda seems to have gotten off easy. Her tiara has been grafted to her forehead, and a bloody triangle constantly seeps through her clothes on her back, but neither appear to cause her much pain. She works dutifully - changing sheets or reorganizing books or administering the most basic of first aid in the infirmary, and on occasion disappearing into the administrator levels to process bodies and souls through that giant machine - and she does it all literally without complaint.

But still waters run deep, as they say.

Under the obedient, expressionless surface, a fierce battle wages in her mind. The fires of her pride and determination strike desperately against the cool, sedating voices that tell her everything is fine. In the background of the fight, visions of the bloody, gruesome deaths of those around her plague her mind, her powers of precognition warped into something Wisdom never intended. She screams against the voices, the visions, demanding them to stop, to let her go, but, of course, they are unrelenting. The struggle for even a few short moments of clarity is exhausting, and she was already so tired before all this...

Sometimes she loses the battle, and retreats back into the deepest recesses of her mind where a heavenly voice sings a sweet lullaby to her, assuring her everything is fine.

Malfunctioning; initially non-violent

It's terribly difficult to keep track of things when one is constantly fighting for awareness of one's own actions. Even more so when there are long stretches of time when things simply... go dark. If you're fortunate to encounter the body of the Princess while her mind is well and truly gone, she might be simply staring at a wall, or at you while you sleep. Perhaps you find her after she has finished her work down in processing, and is covered in blood and entrails after tearing apart a body or two and keeping their hearts.

Malfunctioning; violent

If you're particularly unlucky, however, you might find her when she's found some twisted form of reason in the darkness. The macabre future keeps presenting itself to her - all death and blood and screams - and what has she done if not fight to prevent such things from happening? Yes, she can stop it... she will spare those around her from their horrid destinies...

Whether they want her to or not.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[As per her superior's orders, she stops, stock still.

And nods.]

Come with me.

[He ducks back behind the other end of the pile of corpses, a darker section of the room, musty and damp and rank of the smell of rotting flesh. He stops, turning back towards her.]

I will ask you specific questions. You are required to answer them. Will you be able to give me answers on your own?

[She follows dutifully, and somewhere faraway, the exhausted, struggling part of her consciousness wonders what's going on. She's meant to be obedient, silent, working without question, but...

She can't think too hard on it before grasping for awareness becomes too difficult. Damn. For what it's worth, her drone half seems a bit confused as well, blinking at the orders uncertainly. If she is required to answer his questions, what does it matter if she can do it on her own?

Still, she cannot deny him, and again, she nods.]

[He nods in return. Time to make this quick and, hopefully, painless.]

We won't be here for long. There are only five things I require of you.

The first is a question: Do you know of Dax's resistance happening among the residents?

[Yes! Yes, I do!

You know, it's probably a really good thing her actions are so reserved like this, because on the inside she is practically jumping with joy at that simple question. It's not an order, it's a recognition of rebellion, and oh, Guy, if only you knew the right questions to ask!

But on the outside, she only nods once more.]

[He manages a wisp of a smile. Alright, that's a start.]

Tell me: are you part of that resistance, then? And what do you do?

[She nods at his first question, and her answer to the second is so completely at odds with the cool, clinical tone she is forced to speak with.]

I am among those leading the resistance.

[W e l p.]

[His smile broadens, if not a little ruefully. How... ironic.]

I wish to contact them, Your Highness, and I know you are not in the best of states right now. I apologize.

Besides yourself, how many others are a part of this resistance? Give me their names, if you can.

[The irony is cruel and thick, but she doesn't care. For the briefest of moments, her body and mind are working in tandem, and that illusion of control is such a relief.]

Enoch. Tohko Amano. Lucifel. Solas Greine. Naoya. Ruler. Arturia, also known as Saber of White. Arthur Kirkland, also known as England.

[There are others who know of the resistance, but since they have not taken an active part in it, she does not mention them.]

[He makes a mental note of each of the names, none of which he recognizes. But he could easily change that.]

What places do you commonly meet?

And what is the easiest way to contact them?

Floor 77; the sauna.

[Oh, she wishes she could say why, but he didn't ask.]

Use the mailroom.

[He gives a nod of acknowledgement, his head tilting with slight curiosity.]

Why do they meet in the sauna, Your Highness?

The administrators cannot see or hear them there.

[The blessings of some form of privacy.]

I see.

[He dips his head down, silent for a long moment as though he were thinking hard over something.]

...I do not know what you are able to hear, Zelda. But know that some of us kept our minds. We are fighting back.

[She doesn't say anything - she can't say anything, or do much of anything either. But she can hear you, Guy, and those words bring light to the very dark place she's in.

Her drone body can only stare forward, awaiting the next command, but inside, she can only think thank you and make a note to find him once all this is over.]

[...

There's a twitch at his neck. Another at his shoulder - almost unconsciously. A grimace flashes across his face, before blinking back to a more pained neutral.

He straightens up, facing her full-on, exhaling deeply before he speaks once more.]

These are your final instructions.

Outside my last statement, you are to wipe the last ten minutes from your memory. You will not remember what we have discussed. You will be obedient once more.

You... y-you w-w-will...

...

You will stand perfectly still.

[...?

What?

... No. No, no, no, nonononono I don't want to I DON'T WANT TO FOR--

...

...

She stands perfectly still.]

[Without another word, Guy draws his sword, advancing the few steps towards her with chains clanking loudly behind him. Both hands grip the handle as he thrusts it forward, through cloth and skin and muscle, pushing the blade until the hilt rests against her ribcage, the blade sticking out in the center of the bloodied triangle on her back.

With an extreme amount of force, there's a twist, a slash upwards with the cracking of bone, before the blade is withdrawn, blood not bothering to be wiped off as it drips onto the cold metal floor.]

...!

[There's a sharp, wordless gasp as the blade slides in, though, out.

Wh... Why...?

She's confused. She doesn't understand. Where is she-- what's going on-- did she black out again? Goddesses, what is that smell-- ghk!

As the sword twists and cracks something, even all the programming and brainwashing isn't enough to override the fact that it hurts, blindingly so, and now she stares forward both because of the command and because shock begins to take over her system.

She's... she's going to die. ... Hah, she had something of a streak going there for a while...

She staggers for a moment as the blade finally comes out, blood pouring from her abdomen, staining that pink dress oh-so red. There are gasps, futile gasps of someone trying desperately to survive, but she has no choice but to succumb. Her superior wants her dead, so dead she will be. She crumples to the ground, fallen in a puddle of her own blood, and despite her eyes being wide open, the world goes dark.

... Distantly, she realizes she's alone this time. . .]

[Even as the princess chokes in a pool of her own fluids, Guy is simply looking on, an expression of... something unclear on his face. Not quite pleasure. Just... a slight smile. A sense of satisfaction underneath those clouded eyes.

A princess of the finest quality, indeed. The blonde leans down to take slender arms and drag them to a chain link. What kind of mangling would be required didn't matter. She was wonderful... divine.

She would add nicely to his collection.]

A terrible thought has moved into my mind--

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