one.

[sicharia]

Characters: Claudia and OPEN
Date: Through the end of April to the beginning of May
Setting: Floor 101, Floor 100, Floor 69, various
Format: Action preferred
Summary: Claudia looks for a place to pray
Warnings: None yet

Floor 101
[This is a nice floor, she thinks. Pretty. She wanders through it aimlessly, her fingertips brushing against the hanging plants here and there. If one were to pay attention to her manner, they would see she isn't; her expression is distracted, Claudia absorbed in her own thoughts. Perhaps drifting away into her own mind isn't the safest thing to do in a place like this, but at the moment, she isn't thinking about being safe.]

[Eventually, she comes to a decision, her gazing shifting to more focused as she does so. She'll pray, just as she always does when her heart is troubled and in need of guidance. She just needs to find a place to do so.]

Floor 100
[Claudia spends exactly two minutes on this floor before she makes for the exit. Her eye is wet.]

Various Floors
[She picks her way through an assortment of floors, trying to find ones that are both benign and largely overlooked. It's a little difficult, seeing as she is purposefully avoiding both the cathedral and the meadow found in the lower parts of the Tower. The latter isn't a place she wants to revisit right now, and as for the former—]

[Well, she doesn't want to pray in a cathedral built by the sort of people who would do what the administrators have done. That's all.]

Floor 69
[This is the floor she settles on. It actually feels peaceful here, and peace of mind is exactly what she's after, isn't it? It's a little strange, walking on clouds this way, but at the same time, it's almost enjoyable. It makes her recall the kinds of things she imagined as a child, when she thought about what heaven must be like.]

[It would be easy miss her pale skin and fair hair amongst all the white, and especially when she has knelt in prayer, so it's a good thing her dress is dark in color. Even more so when she doesn't want to move.]

Comments

Floor 69 o7

[bloodright]

[Vergil's just passing through on his way downstairs, but, on a quick glance about the floor - he recognises that woman. It would be easy to let her stay there and die, and frankly, he wouldn't care one way or other. On the other hand, the last time he saw her, he saw his mother, and harmed her. If it had been anything else, he wouldn't care, but even now knowing it wasn't really who he thought, there's guilt.]

You should leave.

[sicharia]

[The pain prickling at her is familiar. Her back stiffens when she senses his presence, but even so, she doesn't move. There's only idle wondering about whether or not she is going to die again—but then she hears a voice, and she manages to at least glance over her shoulder at the speaker, greeting him with a weak smile.]

Perhaps I should.

[bloodright]

It's not 'perhaps'. If you want to live, you will.

[sicharia]

Is there a point? If I die, I'll just be revived, won't I?

[Not that this is a point she would typically be so apathetic about. But, well, with the effects of this floor in place...]

[bloodright]

You will. But do you so wish to experience a painful death?

Floor 101 /o/

[destructiveprinciple]

[It's late out. Angra walks at a steady, unhurried pace as he meandered through the paths between hanging plants. As far as this place went, he's judged this floor an unthreatening one. It wasn't an excuse to be at ease, but he didn't bother to be especially on guard.

His surroundings were a verdant, thriving expanse; hundreds of pots of plants, trees coated in vines, a distracted-looking Caren standing over there looking sorta mopey and strangely lost in thought, and thousands of kinds of vegetation that broke over the edges of the floor and spilled onto the others below and above it.

—He freezes, midstep as what he had glimpsed processed to his brain.

Then he doubles back, feeling mildly disbelievingly to check. Had that been the church girl, had that been Caren? Here?]

[sicharia]

[See, there's another reason not to bother paying attention to her surroundings. If anything dangerous gets near her, her body will sound alarm bells in a way that she can't ignore.]

[This isn't a monster, though, she realizes as her gaze automatically snaps in Avenger's direction. Her hands both fall to hang at her sides, and she remains very, very still. She can feel her blood rushing inside her body. It feels so close to the surface of her skin, as though it'll burst through if she tries to move. Maybe it will. It certainly will if he comes any closer. Damned if she does...]

[But if she feels anything in particular at this, she doesn't let it show, her expression blank but for the way it has tensed in pain. The resemblance is there, especially with her emotions so tightly reined in, but it's not quite the same...]

[destructiveprinciple]

[The woman falls still, gaze snapping towards him and tension appearing. He looks at her and... Feels nothing. No emotion makes itself known at the sight of her frail figure, pale hair and blank expression. Not the odd mixture of anger and hatred inside him that Avenger had grown to associate with the church girl. Sure, there was the instinctive deep loathing for a member of mankind, but the Servant paid that loathing no more attention than he did his breathing so it didn't count.

This isn't Caren, he concluded, judging from the fact she had an actual shirt on. This woman was much too old, she was missing an eye, but there was an undeniable resemblance there. The tinge of pain to her features was familiar as well, and gave plenty of information away. So she carried that... rare genetic disease thingy in her body too.

A relative, that was his guess.

Knowing from experience that to approach any closer, was to risk her death or his own via dozens of sharp spikes, Avenger remained where he was, cocked his head and considered what to say.]

[sicharia]

[She doesn't speak to him, remaining silent and still. But, that's not all that strange, is it? This feeling is the mark of something demonic or malicious—why should she try to strike up conversation with something like that?]

[The tension remains in her expression and posture. She's defenseless here, so maybe it would make more sense for her to try to escape, but even with the distance between them, it hurts so much it's almost unbearable. Her knees would probably buckle if she tried to move, so she doesn't.]

[destructiveprinciple]

[The dark shadow looks at her, cautiously wondering if she received the same training in exorcisms as the church girl had, though he felt confident that their personalities differed greatly—Caren took after the priest in that respect and the priest was somewhat of an anomaly by anybody's standards.

His stance is wary, red ragged cloth flickering around his bare feet as the Servant fidgeted in place, not daring to risk killing her by approaching until he had satisfied his curiosity. Nobody from his timeline had arrived here before, and she seemed the closest he'd get to seeing a person he knew for now. He, having came to an conclusion on what to introduce himself to her with, asks roughly;]

Hey. Tell me your name, lady.

Floor 69

[greyerrant]

[ An angel comes for Claudia on Floor 69. But he is a secular sort of angel, sent by a very earthly god to watch over humanity. An angel of death, in fact. A grey-armored figure notices the praying woman and stands vigil over her, his armor making a low hum as he does so. At some 8 feet tall he is something of a giant, broad and imposing in his warplate. ]

[sicharia]

[Her kneeling position makes him seem even larger, but she isn't afraid. It's so peaceful here, she doesn't know if she can be afraid. She doesn't stand, her neck craning up and up to look at him, her hands having since dropped to sit folded in her lap.]

Hello. [She greets him, mildly.]

[greyerrant]

Hello. [ His response is just as mild, though deep, sonorous, like the voice of a giant. ]

I do not think it wise to stay here too long.

[sicharia]

No, maybe it isn't. [Maybe she realizes her mistake.] But it's so nice here—it's hard to resist.

[greyerrant]

Not for me.

[ He reaches down, offering a huge armored hand. ]

Come with me.

Floor 100

[warriorscribe]

*Enoch rarely ventures onto this floor. But he had lost a friend to time once, and though it hadn't even been a year, though it was drawing close, he wasn't going to do the same again. He had to remember.

He steps off the stairs, looking around at the empty house in Meridian. It wasn't really the house he missed most, it was who he lived with. What he saw as the couch was right by the stairs, the couch where they'd rested by the fire together, laughed and ate and shared stories of the past, talked seriously about their future...

Enoch reached out with his left hand, curled into a fist, knowing it would go straight through the back of the couch. But he opened it to press his palm against the wall beyond anyway, and sighed at the illusion.*

If only I could will you into reality- hm?

*There was someone else exiting rather quickly, and Enoch had to step aside to avoid tripping her.*

...I know. This place is painful.

[sicharia]

Excuse me. I'm sorry.

[The words tumble out of her mouth even as she likewise sidesteps, the movement a little clumsy in her hurry. She glances upward to study his face just momentarily, and then she bows her head, staring at her hands where they're clasped in front of her skirt.]

It's—

[She blurts the word out, then goes silent. It takes her a moment, but when she starts again, she's at least a little more composed.]

It's a little cruel, isn't it?

[warriorscribe]

It is... I don't know whether it was intended that way, or if the architect believed he was helping us somehow. I suppose...it's nice to have a reminder, in a way. Until it can be made real again.

[sicharia]

[Her lips purse together.]

I'm afraid I'm not charitable enough to give them the benefit of a doubt now. [She glances backward, toward the scenery behind her.] Unfortunately, this place isn't one I could return to, even if I did manage to go back home.

[She looks back to him, slowly shifting her weight to one foot to the other as she considers what to say.]

Can you—see it?

[The sight of her old home is clear to her, and she isn't sure if she's comfortable having it projected for all to see.]

[warriorscribe]

*Enoch shakes his head.* No. I see where I lived before I was brought here. ...Not that it means very much without my housemate.

*And given Sola's story...even if everything were to be restored...it wouldn't be much different from living in Animus, would it? Sola had died that night, and a new, bloodthirsty caretaker would have taken her place.

If it was restored...Enoch would have to ensure everyone escaped there...perhaps using Animus resources as well, if he could.*

floor 100

[vermicompost]

[Kariya is just entering when Claudia's leaving, and he almost collides with her but stops himself in time. Behind her, he can see the green springtime of the park that this floor shows him.]

Oh, Claudia, hello. I'm sorry.

[It's hard to miss the tears in her eyes, and his expression soon shifts into one of concern.]

Are you all right?

[sicharia]

Oh! [She squeaks out the sound, nearly tripping in her rush to stop herself. Quickly, she shakes her head.] No, it's fine. I should have been paying more attention, I'm sorry.

I'm— [Flustered at having been caught, she doesn't manage much of a pokerface, and she casts a glance back over her shoulder to the room as a whole.] I'm fine. I guess I was just a little—startled.

[vermicompost]

That's all right. No harm done. [He smiles, gently.]

It's a strange floor, isn't it? I learned that it shows something different to everyone.

[He doesn't want to pry, but it's hard not to acknowledge that she's upset. She must have seen something from home that brought up upsetting memories. He could be upset about the park, himself, and he had been taken aback when he first saw it, but he likes to remember the happier times.]

I'm sorry if it upset you.

[sicharia]

[She relaxes some when he smiles, but the one she offers him in return is still awkward. She isn't sorry to see him, but she would have preferred to run into him when she was more composed.]

Does it? Then... [She glances backward again and bites her lip. Then why—this? It seems especially cruel, and she frowns.]

Those people— They're really... [Her lips start to curl into another word once or twice, but apparently, she can't find one that expresses her feelings adequately. She gives up and looks back to him, attempting to dry her eye as subtly as possible as she speaks.] What kind of things does it show people?

[vermicompost]

I'm not sure. It showed someone else I know something that upset them. A bad memory, I think. Something from back home. [It wouldn't be fair to Rin to discuss that she'd been upset, so he doesn't mention her name.] It shows me the park, where I used to play with Aoi and Rin and Sakura.

[He glances at the park he can see even now as he says this.]

I like to see it, even though it makes me sad. So I come here sometimes, just to look and remember.

[He knows he'll never go there again, in the springtime, in the sunlight. He's silent, for a moment.]

They're terrible people, the ones in charge here. Maybe they thought we'd like to be reminded of home, but I can't give them that much credit.