towerofanimus | Not all there

Characters: Cain Knightlord and anyone at all
Setting: Floor Three Library
Format: Prose, but will copy you
Summary: Cain is feeling the effects of being in Group C, clearly he should be bothered
Warnings: Sensory Hallucination

It had taken Cain and his partner in map-making more than just the one day to complete their task, scratching a map or notes on each floor carefully onto dinner plates. There were some floors Cain already knew he never wanted to return to, and at first he puts down the sensation of being watched to the unnerving sights of those floors.

Blood and screaming on one of them, endless night on another, what the hell was this place?!

He's taken the plates, twenty-one in total, to the library to sort them into a more organised fashion. Then he starts scratching them into one of the tables, copying the work into the wood for a safer and more sturdy map. But he keeps feeling something brush the back of his neck and shoulder, nothing there when he looks, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach as he works until...

"STOP IT!"

The shout is loud in the library as he spins, one of the plates crashing to the ground to break, as Cain stares at... well, nothing.

[ooc: Open, please bother him. I love all the CR ever!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Suzaku nodded his voice grim. "They took eight prisoners and kept them for a week, when they returned they had been altered. My roommate had his horns removed, and..." He was angry, his voice shook with rage. "His skin has been covered with some sort of film, he can barely see or hear."

His frown darkened even more, "Two of them were children."

Children.

Deep inside there was a small twist of bitterness; the world had never cared when it had been clone children being experimented on, why should they get so darkly angry about others?

Yet his outer veneer reflected shock and disgust, concern for those who had been experimented on, and sympathy for their pain.

"Why? For what purpose?"

Suzaku shrugged angrily, "When did those with power ever need a purpose? Because they can, because no one is stopping them." Once Suzaku had believed the only way to change things was to change them from the inside, but the world was too cruel and those in power too ruthless and all he had suceeded was to become a murderer.

Because no world was ever safe for children, he had been a child himself when he had first killed, when his country had been invaded as old as the boy who had been experimented on. The other child was the toll girl and when he had been not much older than her he had joined the Britannian army.

He realised who he had spoken to and shook his head in an apology. He had guessed Cain was a high commander back in his world and Suzaku did not want his friend to believe he was tainting him with the same brush as the rulers of the tower.

"I apologise Cain, that is only in my experiance, perhaps other worlds are different."

"You have nothing to apologise for."

Even if he had taken Suzaku's words as a personal attack against himself, he was not one to show when he was offended. He just gave his friend a small smile and pushed his glasses up his nose, diffusing the tension that had grown up from this situation.

"Come, we shouldn't linger here any longer."

Suzaku nodded and didn't mention it again, he had to remember that these people were not from his world. He nodded again and then stumbled a little bit as voices assailed him again. Calling from the distance.

"Did you hear them then?" He wondered if they were both hearing the same voices, or different ones.

Cain had heard the voices as well, a disconcerting whisper across his consciousness that truly unnerved him, though he managed to outwardly show no concern for it.

"I did, I'm not sure it's a good thing that we are both experiencing the same symptoms. It points to something out of our control, and inflicted by an external source."

Suzaku nodded, privatly he thought it was more reasuring to know this was being enforced on him by an outward force, as terrifying a concept that that was, than it be from within him, his own mind turning on him.

They arrrived at the cafeteria, there were a few people and the atmosphere was tense, it had been tense for a while, tenser than usual. "It seems that this is effecting more than just us..." Because that would be an explanation, if everyone was seeing these visions, hearing these voices... Or it might just be the endless captivity and seeing their fellow prisoners mutilated.

Not all there

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