towerofanimus | [Event, returning from surgery, open]

Characters: All those who were expermimented on if they want and everyone else
Setting: Cafeteria, morning
Format: Whatevers easiest
Summary: Those that were taken a week ago are left in the cafeteria, changed and somewhat broken. (I'm starting with Romeo, and then everyone can just make their own threads/reply to each other/tag around. I just thought this would save 8 very similar different threads)
Warnings: Horror, description of body modification horror, trauma, angst, unplesentness. Probably lots of anger

Romeo had barely struggled when he was taken a week ago but now he was angry. The bad people had hurt them all, did awful things to them. He shouted at them and was ignored, he tried to bash them with his antlers but it did nothing. Soon they were left in the cafeteria. It had only been a week but everything had changed. Romeo had fallen once they had put him down, he still wasn't good at walking and he looked around. The cafeteria was exactly the same though it seemed that the whole tower should have changed, become even scarier than it already was. He looked at his mouth, so strange and protruding out of his face and then down at his legs, four of them now not two. They looked strange in a way they hadn't in the cells. They had been a scary place and the face that he now had hooves and antlers hadn't been as horrifying as it was now he was in a normal place. A place he had been for a long time now.

He looked at the others and tried not to cry, he had cried so much already and it wouldn't keep anyone's spirits up. Now they were back they had to act strong and brave because they would be seeing their friends. Those that were hopefully safe. With a determined look Romeo struggled to his feet and stood, staying very close to the others, scared even now he was no longer imprisoned. "It will be alright." He whispered, both to himself and to those around him. They just had to keep their spirits up, and no matter what they had to keep living.

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[He had taken to stroking a thumb along her wrist for comfort, almost unwilling to watch her face when realization dawned. It felt weird to have fingers that weren't his own prodding at him but he did his best to remain still; grimacing further when she asked him what they'd done. Nothing as bad as some of his fellows.

Reaching up to brush a hand over her cheek, he shook his head and guided her hand lower to assure that the rest was gone. Why yes, her jovial always talking other half was completely silent for once. That would have been worrying on its own, really.]

[Oh yes, she could feel that everything was gone, even if something was occupying what should have been the hollow space of France's torso. How was he even alive-? No, best not to ask.

She bit her lip, her free hand moving up to hold his to her face, taking small comfort from the gesture.

Even if she should be the one comforting him.

She absently smoothed the front of the hospital gown over his chest, repressing a shudder at the way his flesh shifted under her hand, like a water-balloon or something.] So they've removed everything... and you won't speak of it...

[She paused and looked up into his eyes.] Or.. you can't speak...?

[He seemed uneasy as the fabric was tugged neatly in to place which was unfortunately enough to show the stitching that had vaguely reminded him of a little rag doll. Sickeningly enough Germany was fitting that much better.

The woman's question made his lips curve into a sardonic little smirk. The second, of course. Whenever am I the silent type? Idly, his fingers worked in to her hair, taking his time to make sure she was there and this wasn't just a moment of relief before it got worse. It always got worse.]

[Fingers still playing with the hospital gown, she murmured:] This doesn't suit you. [Her voice was aloof in tone but when she tried to make the mock arrogant look, just to make him smile properly at least, she failed, lips turning down sadly as she tried to imagine what had been done to him.

Her eyes closed as she felt his fingers move through her hair, her hand moving up to stroke his cheek gently. Her lips twitched when she felt fine stubble along usually smooth skin.] Come, let's get you to your room so you can change - perhaps being in your own clothes will help you feel a bit better?

[He seemed amused enough by her attempt - no matter that it fell short. It wasn't as if she could be blamed for being somber at a time like this. She was trying for his sake and he was pleased that for some perverse reason he had another half that was so willing to console. Almost reassuring to see good that he'd hoped he had in him. He did agree though; Francis was a miserable sight in a hospital gown.

They could do that. It was almost one of those shining moments of brilliance; he would change into clothing that had structure -- well, as he lacked a certain amount of it now and perhaps that would be good enough to fool himself. As long as he kept his mouth shut it would be alright, he was sure of it.

For a moment the Frenchman leaned in to her touch (he'd always been like a cat in a man's body - thank God the tower hadn't exploited THAT with some strange fusion anomaly), finally pulling back to carefully stand. An anxious hand went to his abdomen but everything stayed in place. Small blessings, he guessed. Francis waited for her to stand so he could head toward the dormitories and his room.]

[The smile that had been ghosting over her lips from his stubble finally appeared, however small it was, when Francis's face moved against her hand, reminding her of some of the stray cats she'd occasionally taken in over the years. As he stood, she released his hands and followed suit, brushing off her knees and noticing the way his hand went to his abdomen.

Well, if he had no organs or even ribs to hold his structure up.

Feeling queasy again, she shook her head and took his arm, beginning a slow stroll to the dormitories as she mentioned in as gay a tone as possible:] I'd offer you my corset to hold things in, but I get the feeling it wouldn't fit a man's body so well.

Edited 2011-10-15 00:58 (UTC)

[A wane smile followed the suggestion of being strapped into a corset. It was probably for the best that he couldn't tell her that there was a lack of things that would have usually kept him from wearing them previously. Francisca looked a bit pale from the reunion of sorts, but she was not unaware of the extent of his condition.

Luckily he had a few vests that were fitted and perhaps that would keep him looking well, formidable enough for a handsome mime. For now, he was just glad that there'd been an elevator put in that ran to the dorms.]

[Once in the elevator she fell silent, both hands clasped around his arm as she stared straight ahead, unable to think of anything adequate to say in such a situation. 'I think you've gotten a bit soft around the edges~' and other witty, stupid comments flew to mind but all were cast aside with disgust, her own helplessness in the situation making something swell up in her throat, lower lip trembling before she abruptly bit the inside of her cheek to stop the pathetic behavior.

She wasn't the one missing the contents of her torso.

When the elevator finally stops on France's floor, she gives him a pathetic excuse of a smile.] Almost there, and then first thing you are doing is shaving mon coeur. Unless you plan on growing out a beard.

Edited 2011-10-25 06:08 (UTC)

[If he could comfort her, he would; for now he let her cling to his arm. She could wail right now, right here in this tiny elevator and he would not find her behavior pathetic; it was a bad place to be. He was a bad companion to take to being around, and yet here she was trying to put a brave face on around the mess he'd been reduced to.

Francis glanced at her when she spoke, brow raising in question before reluctant amusement presented itself. Would I look good with a beard? Squeezing her hand, he took to leading her out as a gentleman would. Even without the pretense, he was still attempting normalcy and being dragged to his own room would have been embarrassing. It would feel good to have normal clothes on and a clean face. Well. He was trying to convince himself...]

[She let him lead her to his room, a small smile tweaking her lips at the familiar sight of his bed.] If you are considering a beard, I strongly advice against it, mon cher. They're just so out of fashion at the moment... give it another century or so I think.

[She considered moving to rummage through his trunk but decided against it, perching instead at the foot of the bed next to it, looking up at him expectantly. As much as she wanted to mother him, she was afraid that if she hovered too much over his every movement, he'd never gain back his confidence or strength.]

Edited 2011-10-27 09:24 (UTC)

[Event, returning from surgery, open]

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