Nesir Aeser (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
culbutiri) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-04-20 10:02 pm
culbutiri) wrote in towerofanimus2013-04-20 10:02 pm
Entry tags:
In the greyness and drizzle of one despondent dawn...
Characters: Nesir Aeser and you
Setting: Floor 20
Format: Prose but I will switch
Summary: Aftermath of being a drone.
Warnings: just event stuff and dark thoughts
When Nesir had seen the dress laid out on her bed she had almost lost her temper, cut it up and thrown it away. But she had forced herself to stay calm because it had been given to her to provoke that reaction, to make her lose control. And she wouldn't, she had put it on instead, transferring the poisons to the hidden pockets, and moving her daggers across.
She had never worn it before, it had been stowed in her trunk in the temple after Lotte had thrown it at her in anger, I had it made specially for you, and I almost had to bury you in it.
Only fitting that she should wear it now then, beyond death. A soul trapped, away from the natural order of things and kept, contained.
Theirs to do what they liked with. Nesir sat on floor twenty, at the edge of the tower, legs dangling off the side staring out into the fog and emptiness. She remembered every moment, the pain, the brainwashing, the feeling that everything was alright, her actions, what she had done, attacking, killing.
She had been controlled before, both as training and punishment. Her body a puppet. It happened rarely, for she rarely disobeyed, had never disobeyed before she went to the temple. Yet this had been different, because her mind had always been her own. She might not be able to speak, to move except on the whims of whoever was pulling the strings, but she could think, she could curse them silently, she could fight back mentally.
But even that had been taken away, her mind had been theirs, she had obeyed them mindlessly. Helpless, like a child, unable to fight back, not even wanting to...
And as far as she could gather there was no reason except that they could.
Causing chaos, it was a motive she could get behind but these were blasphemers, they worshiped no shadow god, they stole souls, they played with life and death itself.
Her life and death, her soul, her mind. She was more than a puppet, she had proven that. She made her own decisions, she was her own person. She was Nesir, she had made the name her own, she was Culbu. She had earned a name, and she had earned her free will. She was obedient, she was loyal. She didn't need to be controlled.
But these people played by no rules she knew and seemed determined to prove her wrong.
She would destroy them, she did not know how, or when, but she would. She didn't know if the shadow god could hear her hear, but she closed her eyes and pledged it, the destruction of this place, the blood of everyone who stood against her.
Setting: Floor 20
Format: Prose but I will switch
Summary: Aftermath of being a drone.
Warnings: just event stuff and dark thoughts
When Nesir had seen the dress laid out on her bed she had almost lost her temper, cut it up and thrown it away. But she had forced herself to stay calm because it had been given to her to provoke that reaction, to make her lose control. And she wouldn't, she had put it on instead, transferring the poisons to the hidden pockets, and moving her daggers across.
She had never worn it before, it had been stowed in her trunk in the temple after Lotte had thrown it at her in anger, I had it made specially for you, and I almost had to bury you in it.
Only fitting that she should wear it now then, beyond death. A soul trapped, away from the natural order of things and kept, contained.
Theirs to do what they liked with. Nesir sat on floor twenty, at the edge of the tower, legs dangling off the side staring out into the fog and emptiness. She remembered every moment, the pain, the brainwashing, the feeling that everything was alright, her actions, what she had done, attacking, killing.
She had been controlled before, both as training and punishment. Her body a puppet. It happened rarely, for she rarely disobeyed, had never disobeyed before she went to the temple. Yet this had been different, because her mind had always been her own. She might not be able to speak, to move except on the whims of whoever was pulling the strings, but she could think, she could curse them silently, she could fight back mentally.
But even that had been taken away, her mind had been theirs, she had obeyed them mindlessly. Helpless, like a child, unable to fight back, not even wanting to...
And as far as she could gather there was no reason except that they could.
Causing chaos, it was a motive she could get behind but these were blasphemers, they worshiped no shadow god, they stole souls, they played with life and death itself.
Her life and death, her soul, her mind. She was more than a puppet, she had proven that. She made her own decisions, she was her own person. She was Nesir, she had made the name her own, she was Culbu. She had earned a name, and she had earned her free will. She was obedient, she was loyal. She didn't need to be controlled.
But these people played by no rules she knew and seemed determined to prove her wrong.
She would destroy them, she did not know how, or when, but she would. She didn't know if the shadow god could hear her hear, but she closed her eyes and pledged it, the destruction of this place, the blood of everyone who stood against her.
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She should, Nesir might have, if their positions had been reversed. Maybe, except she sort of liked Ocelot, she was one of the very few people who didn't seem to be a complete idiot.
Moments past and she didn't find herself being pushed to her death, yet she couldn't bring herself to speak either.
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There wasn't any point in doing so, after all. She knew their enemy. Ocelot would save all of her anger and violence for Jason.
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And Ocelot had been controlled too, she looked at the older woman's fingers, glad that they had been fixed when they were brought back to normal.
"I did no even be wanting to fight it, it all did be feeling so normal. I do be having the memories but it do be feeling like it did be happening to someone else."
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She was uncomfortably aware of how closely watched she was at the moment, glancing behind to see the drone watching her with a frown. Attacking it would be a waste of bullets. "It was probably in part a means of which to break us. We cannot allow ourselves to feel sorrow, even after hurting those we care about."
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"I do be knowing that." She didn't really feel sorrow... not completely. She felt bad for what she had done to Ocelot, the woman had been kind to her and she wasn't a light addled fool.
"They can just be stopping trying to break us, it do be being annoying."
And painful, but she's trying to avoid feelings at the moment.
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"That it is. But they won't. I'm sure they'll try again."
Why was the real question. What was the point? Dax may have been interested in saving them, but it was evident that Jason did not care. His disregard for human life didn't bother Ocelot so much as his desire to make sure that the soldier was out of control of her own body.
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Not even the gods had that much direct control over a person and it terrified her more than she could let herself admit.
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But Ocelot was not her mother. She could not have blind patriotism. She held no loyalty to any country. Here, she could really only trust herself. There had to be some way to outsmart the administrators. For them to be truly free of this psychotic control over the residents of the tower. "There must be something that can be done." She wasn't stupid enough to voice her ideas, though. At least not now.
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Nesir was used to powerful people being in control, but before she had been working for them, not against them and she really didn't have the first idea how to start.
"It do be like trying to beat the gods." She looked out at the clouds and fog again, "In their own realm."
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That wouldn't stop her. That would never stop her. "But even gods can be destroyed."
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But Dax had died and so she guessed in this case, they could be. "We do just be needing more power."
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"We do," she agreed with a grim smile.
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"But that do be being the extent of my plans." She said, turning to glare at the worker unit, wondering if it was worth the effort to try and lose it.
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"We need to figure out a more secure method of communication," Ocelot said, her gaze following Nesir's. They couldn't speak openly. It wouldn't be safe. Any communication they had would get back to the administrators, and now she was certain that the fact that they were going to be trying to find new methods would get back to Jason.
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Those thoughts were too close to what she had believed the last week and she clenched her fists, angry at herself for not being able to forget and move on.
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