towerofanimus | 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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Lancer starts tearing up again when his brother ruffles his hair. He knows how awkward it must be for Diarmuid to touch him again, and he's touched that Diarmuid is willing to risk it just to comfort him.]

[~~If anything, it makes them even in everything now.~~]

[At least the tears falling on the floor help with the scrubbing.]

[Diarmuid hates just sitting there watching his brother work, but he knows if he helps then Cu Chulainn will have to leave that much faster. Unconsciously, he drives his fist into the pillow sitting next to him. He hates being this helpless. Is there really nothing he can do but sit there and watch while his brother suffers?

After several moments, he can't sit any longer and stands again, moving quickly to his brother's side. Once there, he reaches out and wipes at the tears on his brother's face. It's not much, but it's something.]

I love you, brother. I don't care what they do to you, I love you.

[Once he finishes wiping at that spot, he looks up at Diarmuid.]

I know. I love you too.

[That's what he wants to say. He hates being like this, only being able to touch others as he desires while malfunctioning. All he can do is stand around and wait for his brother to comfort him. It's frustrating but strangely nice as well.]

[His brother's look doesn't need words to explain it this time. Diarmuid smiles at him, his fingers wiping a few more tears from Cu Chulainn's face before drifting down to cup his chin.]

I know you love me. I do. I have never doubted that. Nothing you do will change that and nothing they make you do will change that. I just hate seeing you like this. I want things fixed now, but...

[His head bows, sad realization filling his eyes.]

...there really is nothing I can do, is there? Nothing but do my best to comfort you when I can.

[Lancer closes his eyes, using what might be another malfunction to stay still. It's true. There's nothing that he or Diarmuid can do. But this resignation and empty frustration is a familiar feeling. He had gone through this over and over again, watching his friends and his brother especially suffer from their experiences in the Tower and even before it. And each and every time, he could do nothing but offer comfort which might or might not help.]

[Diarmuid just stands there quietly for several minutes, his fingers gently stroking his brother's face before he finally speaks again.]

Does this help at all? Am I comforting you? It is so hard for me to tell anything like this. I just want to hug you and keep you here, but that isn't possible. I know that now. It might actually force you to attack me again if I try...

I hate this. I hate this so much!

[Yes, for the first time, Diarmuid will fully admit it. He hates something. He truly, truly hates something.

And that something is being helpless when he knows those he cares about are suffering.]

[He looks up at his brother again.]

Yes, it helps.

[At least, it makes what he's doing bearable.]

[Diarmuid forces himself to calm down when he sees his brother's look. He is helping. It might not be much, but it is better than nothing, right?

Even if it doesn't seem anywhere near enough.]

Can I do anything else to help you? Anything at all?

[At this point, Cu Chulainn just pulls away again, going to wipe at another spot on the floor. Unless Diarmuid can drag Jason up here to re-modify Lancer, then nothing at all can be done.]

Yes, I was afraid of that.

[Diarmuid reluctantly lets his brother return to cleaning, sitting down on the bed himself. He doesn't know what to do next. He just feels so helpless and useless.

The room is practically silent for several long minutes, the only sounds the ones made by Cu Chulainn as he cleans. And then suddenly for a reason Diarmuid cannot explain, he closes his eyes and starts singing.]

[Lancer had meant to ask his brother about his musical skills ever since his conversation with Link. Now, he had proof that the Fianna really were good at everything. His brother's voice is soothing, even if there's a hint of sadness.]

[He would have to ask Diarmuid to sing to him more later. Right now, he's still focused on his work, only the singing make him enjoy it somewhat.]

[Diarmuid hates his voice. To him it has always sounded like a crow attempting to sing with the larks. Why people find joy in it he will never understand. He's still not sure why he even started other than maybe deep down he remembers how much his father's singing had always comforted him, and he hopes somehow his pale imitation of song will sooth his brother in the same way.

For whatever reason, it does seem to be working. While still focused on his task, his brother's shoulders seem less tense, his face less upset and in the end, that is enough to keep him singing. For as long as his brother wants to hear him, he will sing.]

watch the dog chase its tail

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