towerofanimus | watch the dog chase its tail

Entry tags:

watch the dog chase its tail

Characters: [AU3] Lancer, [OU] Zero Lancer, and you!
Setting: all over the Tower, throughout the event
Format: anything goes
Summary: Lancer acts as a group C worker. See here for details.
Warnings: Blood, gore, death, and euthanasia so far. If you tag him after the 15th, there's a chance he'll attack and try to maul you.

1. Dormitories (limited to the 15th)

[Lancer had thought that the modifications would stop at compelling him to work with maintaining the Tower or tearing apart the corpses of the fallen even with his twisted limbs. He hadn't expected blackouts. Nor had he expected waking up to realize he has been staring at someone in their sleep. When the person sleeping seems to stir, he scoots backward into a corner, trying to hide himself the best he can. He hates the idea of being seen in this shameful state. Hopefully, he would be called to his next task before anyone sees him.]

2. Aquarium

[By now, Lancer has become accustomed to the blackouts. It seems he does nothing but stare at people when his mind is taken from him. It's a relief. He knew what he could be capable of when he loses his rational thinking.]

[Currently, he's trying to scoop out the fish with his hands. Constantly fighting against his urges exhaust him. In addition, he's been taking extra precautions to try to avoid the people he knows when he doesn't have his shifts.]

[Perhaps if he ate something, he could regain some energy. However, the modification done to his limbs to make them dog-like makes his movements awkward. Pretty soon, he's abandoned using his hands and is just thrusting his face in the water. For the time being, he forgets to even watch out to see if anyone is approaching him.]

3. Dormitories (with Diarmuid/oathshackledbird)

[The sleep paralysis lasted for an hour after his revival. The first thing he notices is that he is still in his modified state. If he had his voice, he would laugh. Not even death can free him from this state.]

[He's about to jump from the bed and go to some task, any task, but he notices something.]

[His brother is lying next to him, perfectly still.]

[He wants to scream, or even gasp, but again, he can only silently stare.]

Why? Why is he here? Didn't Lancelot save him?

[He inches closer to Diarmuid, and then places his head on Diarmuid's chest so he can listen to the other Lancer's heartbeat. He silently sighs in relief as he hears that sure sign that his brother is alive right now, no matter what might have happened yesterday.]

[He lifts his head...and then nudges Diarmuid's face with his muzzle. As he is, he can't call out to Diarmuid, or shake him or kiss him or hug him. All he can do is nuzzle up to Diarmuid in the hope that he can offer his brother some comfort. Or at least show that Cu Chulainn was no longer a threat.]

[After a while, he stops pushing at Diarmuid and leans over Diarmuid's face, watching his brother just lie there either sleeping or paralyzed. A couple tears slide off his face and onto Diarmuid's cheeks. He hates this body that can do nothing else.]

4. Floor 38

[Lancer is a good little drone. He wipes the floors and the glass walls. For once, he doesn't seem to have any sign of malfunction.]

[Even though the task is banal and it sucks to have just about no control over his body, it's still better than malfunctioning, or spending every waking hour exhausted because he's fighting his urges.]

5. Lower Levels

[Lancer wants to scream. This is by far his most gruesome task, taking apart the bodies for soul extraction. He's seen more of Jason's techniques in these few days than he could care to see for his entire life.]

[Of course, he just has to malfunction down here too. Pretty soon, he's dragging organs out with him, holding the gruesome souvenirs in both his hands and his mouth.]

6. Meadow

[Even drones should be allowed to enjoy themselves. This might come to mind as the residents come upon a particular dog-like unit rolling around, apparently having fun. That is, if it wasn't rolling around in a pile of intestines and eyeballs.]

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[Soon after he begins his blackout, Lancer smells an alluring, delicious odor. It's the smell of bones. Whatever is in front of him is full of bones. Bones that he wants to chew on.]

[He gets a goofy smile on his face and licks his lips. Then, suddenly, he attacks, sinking his teeth into the other man's arm.]

[To say the attack catches Diarmuid off guard would be an understatement. In all honesty, seeing that familiar goofy grin had caused him to relax a little instead of tense up. Now he knows just how much of a mistake that was.

He bites back a pained sound, forcing himself not to pull away as his instincts are screaming for him to do. His brother's teeth have dug deep into his arm and ripping himself free will do more damage to his arm than he can risk right now. Focusing passed the pain and shock, Diarmuid brings his free arm up in an attempt to pry his brother's mouth free.]

Stop this! Brother, I know you are in there! It's me. Stop!

[The voice is familiar. It's...his brother?]

[But why would he be around the nice bones? Does he want a bone? Should Lancer tear out a bone for him as a present? His teeth dig deeper and deeper until he can feel them scrape against bone.]

[And that's when he notices, through the red haze that covers his eyes, that Diarmuid is frowning at him. It's like he doesn't want Lancer to dig at these bones.]

[Maybe he should listen to his brother and stop...]

Ah...stop. Please...

[His hand slips off his brother's mouth because of all the blood that is already pouring from his arm; his words coming from his mouth in pained gasps. Of course, Diarmuid's had far worse wounds than this during his life, but none of them were caused by the far too sharp teeth of his mutated brother.

Teeth that keep scraping again and again against the bone in his arm.

Diarmuid can't let this continue. If he does, he might end up losing his whole arm. He braces himself to pull away--to deliver a punch to his brother's jaw that will hopefully jar his mouth open--but first gives his brother one last chance to let go on his own.]

Let go. Please, don't make me hurt you. I don't want to hurt you.

[His brother is...begging him? By now he's slowly coming to grips with the fact that he's hurting his brother. The delicious bones he's trying to tear out are his brother's bones.]

[A feeling of fear mixed with nausea rises within him. Diarmuid is the last person he wants to hurt. That's why he wanted Diarmuid to stay away from him.]

[He should stop. He would stop except for the fact that he has no control over his body.]

[Wait...work. He can't work if he's attacking someone. He has to focus on his work. Sniff out dirty or damaged areas.]

[But even as he tries, he can't focus. Rather, something won't let him focus. It's like there's a voice in his head spurring him to attack. Something going beyond the simple desire for bones.]

[Rage.]

[He's angry at Diarmuid for some reason. Every time he tries to focus on his tasks, The image of Diarmuid, covered in blood and cursing at him, appears in his mind and makes him bite down harder.]

[I curse you who swears love, but knows not how to love...]

[Even though he had loved Misaya and suffered for it. Even though he had loved Ayaka and resigned himself to stepping away once Saber came back.]

[...Whose sweet words and promises are nothing but hollow lies.]

[Even when all his promises were for Diarmuid's happiness. Even when breaking them caused him no end of anguish. Even when he had done nothing but sacrifice and sacrifice. Just because he needed no thanks doesn't mean he welcomed curses either!]

[This anger, twisted as it might be, threatens to swallow him.]

[Tears fill Diarmuid eyes as his brother's mouth tears farther into his arm. He doesn't know why his brother isn't listening to him now when he was before, but Diarmuid can wait no more. As much as he hates to do this, he can wait no longer.]

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!

[He draws back the fist of his free arm and brings it down hard on the side of his brother's mouth. After that he pushes, trying to shove him away.]

I'm sorry. Please, I don't what to hurt you, but you have to let go!

[The sudden blow causes Lancer to jerk his face away from the arm he was chewing on. However, since his teeth had been wrapped around the bone, the bone snaps under the weight and force of his jaws.]

[He lies still for a second, and then springs up again. With the blood (both Diarmuid's and his own) dripping from his jaws and rage in his eyes, he looks like some wild creature. Without so much as a growl, he jumps at Diarmuid's other arm.]

[Diarmuid's arm falls limp at his side, but he hardly notices it. He is too busy staring in shock at the changes in his brother. Almost all traces of humanity seem to be gone from him leaving a wild, enraged beast in his place.

To say that isn't good is an understatement.

Before he has a chance to say anything, his brother lunges at him again. They are well matched in speed since they are both Lancers, but Diarmuid manages to dodge the lunge. Unfortunately, he misjudges how close he is to one of the aquarium walls and his injured arm slides into it. This not only causes him to hiss in pain, but the blood draws in a good many fish who would love nothing more than to finish the job his brother has started on that arm.

Diarmuid yanks his arm free of the wall, but he has been distracted for a few precious seconds now, and his eyes scan the room looking for his brother.

Looking for the next attack.]

[Lancer paws at the ground, swerves, and attacks again. Half of him is screaming at his body to stop, but half is urging his body on.]

[This time, he actually draws himself to his full height, which is much shorter than usual given the modifications done to his legs, and claws at Diarmuid's pants belt, intending on dragging Diarmuid down that way.]

[Diarmuid should have been able to dodge, but between his distraction because of the wall and his brother attacking in a different manner--he had full been expecting him to go for his arms again--Cu Chulainn is successful in pulling him to the ground. Diarmuid hits it hard, in fact, pinned momentarily by his brother's weight.

Immediately, he brings his good arm up to try and push the other servant away.

And only belatedly does he realize that putting his good arm between himself and something with such sharp teeth is probably not a good idea.]

[That's the chance Lancer needs to sink his teeth into Diarmuid's good arm. As he bites down, he can taste blood and bone again. And looking down at Diarmuid's face, he can see his brother's tears.]

[He wants to stop. He needs to stop. Why can't he stop? Why can't he focus? Why is he angry?]

[~~Because he tore your heart out and stomped on it~~]

[Tears start flowing out of his eyes. By the time they drip onto Diarmuid's face, they're already red, whether because they mixed with the blood splattered on his face, or something strange was happening because Cu Chulainn was forcing a drone body to cry.]

[But even as he cries, all he can do is bite down harder.]

[All Diarmuid can do is curse himself for being a fool as his brother's teeth sink further into his good arm. He can see how much pain is in Cu Chulainn's eyes, and suddenly the memory of another pair of eyes--less pained and more angry but still portals into the soul of a person who is aware of their actions but fighting a losing battle with control--flash across his eyes.

Archer. He had managed to hold back just long enough to tell Diarmuid to leave and leave he had.

His brother had been warning him from day one not to come looking for him. That it was too dangerous. Why hadn't he listened?]

I'm sorry, brother. I know... This isn't you fault. You can't help it, but please. You are strong. I know you are. You must let go. I will leave, but you must let me go!

[The last thing Diarmuid wants to do is leave his brother like this, but he knows now he can't stay here. If he does, things will only get worse and his brother will have to feel guilt not only about hurting him...

...but for killing him as well.]

[Cries of alarm come from throughout the Tower. Some he heeds, others he does not. Some are nearby, some are not. But this voice, close by and filled with fear and pain, he knows.
Diarmuid.

All thought of finding a moment of respite in the Aquarium vanishes at the sight that greets him.

He has already killed once out of Mercy. He had been as gentle with Shinji as he had been able. But this is no Lost Child. this is a Mad Dog. Cu Chulainn.

Diarmuid's blood slicks the floor-- and the face of the former Lancer as he mauls the man he calls Brother. It is beyond heartbreaking to see the man he so admires reduced to this state.

Lancelot calls out as he draws his sword, knowing he will catch Diarmuid's attention as well.]

Cu Chulainn! Heed me now!

[Lancer can hear the voice, but not turn to it. His body is still focused on trying to rip out this chunk of bone.]

[It's still a relief to know Lancelot is nearby. He knows Lancelot will be no idle bystander.]

Hurry up. Stop me.

[The thoughts rush through his mind as his rage clears for a moment.]

[Diarmuid's eyes open wide with fear when he hears that voice. He should be relieved, but his worry in this situation has never been for himself. It's always been for his brother.

He can't let Lancelot hurt him.

Diarmuid turns his head toward the other servant the best he can, pain and fear both evident in his voice despite his attempts to hide them.]

It's not his fault. Whatever they did to him...he can't control himself, but he knows what is going on. Please! Don't hurt him!

[As he moves to Diarmuid's side, he can hear the tearing of flesh, the grating of teeth against bone. But even with this horror, it is not Diarmuid for whom he is moved to pity and action. It is Cu Chulainn.

How the Knight must be Suffering.]

Certainly it is not his doing! But do you not see how he suffers? It would be a Mercy to kill him in this form. He will rise again renewed-- do not ask me to stay my hand and leave Cu Chulainn in such cruel torment!

[He calls to Cu Chulainn again. It pains him to address the man as he would a dog.]

Cu Chulainn! If it is release you want, I beg you to face me.

[Arondight is ready to Serve.]

Edited 2013-04-19 06:50 (UTC)

[There is a loud crack as Lancer tears out a chunk of bone. Rearing back, he turns to face Lancelot.]

[Diarmuid can't quite hold back the sound of pain that rises in his throat when his brother pulls away from him dragging the bone in his arm with him. Indeed, his arm is nearly severed from his body by the action, the pain making him both dizzy and sick for several moments.

Somehow he manages to pull himself together enough to move away from his brother and stagger to his feet. He's going to have to find a healer, quickly, but first he has to deal with this situation. Ignoring the sound of his blood dripping on the floor, he looks first to Lancelot and then to his brother. Swallowing hard, he makes a decision he doesn't want to make, but knows he has to.

Diarmuid's eyes never leave his brother's as he speaks. It would be to easy to make the wrong--the weak choice--that way.]

Please, Sir Lancelot. Be swift and be clean.

I am sorry I have failed you, brother...

[His voice shakes then, and he finds he can't look at his brother any longer nor trust himself not to act in some way to deter Lancelot from the very action he has just given him permission to take.]

I cannot watch this.

[Not so soon after Lancelot has killed his master. Even though the action is the right one, it is just too soon. And so, just like that, Diarmuid is gone from the room, heading for the dorms forcing himself to focus on finding someone who can heal his wounds, so that he doesn't have to think about the scene he has just left behind.]

[Lancelot knows what it is to live, but not wish to. He has never been the victim of the kind of torment that has befallen Cu Chulainn, but he is certain that if he were to be so changed, he would wish for a swift and merciful death.

Though he hears Diarmuid, he does not answer the man, only nods with grim purpose as the man flees-- no doubt as much to spare himself the sight of the deed Lancelot must do as to seek healing.

Lancelot brings himself close, firming his grip, aware that Cu Chulainn might attack, but feeling no fear. Only anger and pity.]

Be at Peace, Cu Chulainn.

[With these words, he raises his blade. When he lowers it, Arondight will have severed Cu Chulainn's head from his neck.]

[In the brief moment of life that passes from Lancelot raising and lowering his sword, Cu Chulainn can feel only gratitude. The knight had stopped him from hurting anymore of his friends.]

[Of course, as he'll find tomorrow, these modifications won't reset.]

[So passes Cu Chulainn.

Lancelot bows his head, Cu Chulainn's blood is already gone from his blade.

He does not wait for the Retrieval Units to arrive. He can longer do any good here, and he must find his Master.]

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watch the dog chase its tail

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~fin~