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

[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.]

watch the dog chase its tail

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

~fin~