☠ 003 | tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake

[destructiveprinciple]

Characters: Avenger and OPEN to all.
Setting: Dormitory levels, and then the first floor, the tenth floor, and the hundred and one floor.
Format: Preference for action spam.
Summary: Backdated aftermath from last month's event along with an open log for this month.
Warnings: There... is... Angra Mainyu in this post? Fair warning?

[ SCENARIO A || DORM LEVELS: CLOSED TO SABER OF WHITE (backdated to directly after the event) ]

[ Saber hadn't turned up for breakfast. Or lunch. Or dinner.

She hadn't attended their sparring sessions for two days in a row now either. It was troubling to Shirou; while he had not crossed paths with her during the entire mess himself, all of the other residents who had been victimized by the administration's operations and brainwashing been restored to their normal selves. So, surely she had been no exception to this small kindness. Yet, try as he might to be patient and wait it out by reasoning to himself that the Servant had much more pressing matters to attend to than personally visiting a former Masters of hers, he'd cracked after one day and attempted to seek her out.

He'd failed to find her, of course. Miserably. (No surprise, a voice in the back of his head taunted him. You couldn't even save a single person when they were suffering right front of you, and you expect to able to fulfill a simple task like locating Saber when she clearly doesn't want to be found? Don't make me laugh. Shut up. Shut up.) He'd gone and done something stupid like die when Rin had died for him to stay safe from a maddened Archer. Stupid moron. He wasn't going to sit back and just leave Saber to her own devices.

Not that failure had discouraged him. If diligently looking floor by floor on foot would be fruitless, Shirou would resort to more under-handed measures. Like cooking some pastries, putting them in a basket and setting out for Saber's room several days later. The restaurant on the twenty-first floor had been a pain to bargain with for the high quality ingredients he had wanted, and the tasks that had given to him as a method of payment were just as grueling, but Shirou felt little annoyance in accomplishing them. It was an unimportant detail compared to the results.

If Saber was injured or didn't wish to speak to him, at least he'd be able to feed her before making himself scarce or... Finding somebody to fix her injuries. Unless she wasn't hurt at all. Which would be great, really it would. He didn't want her to be harmed.

Shaking his head to cut off the mental babbling, Shirou raised his fist and knocked politely on the room's door. ]


[ SCENARIO B || FLOOR 1: CAFETERIA ]

[ Now, the person busily cooking his feelings about injustice and being unable to fix all the problems in front of him and confusion regarding emotions, in the kitchen is probably a terribly familiar face to whose who frequent the cafeteria regularly.

As reliable as clockwork, the teenager comes in very early in the morning to place the food inside the oversized oven to be baked and then removes it from the oven to transfer the food to clean plates, before taking the neatly ranged dishes out in the cafeteria for any resident to eat as per the job the administration had assigned to him.

Once that was done, it was back to the kitchens to cook even more, and that is what brings us to our current state of affairs: Emiya Shirou engaging in one of his favorite hobbies—cooking in times of crisis. And rather oblivious to any possible incoming threats of being talked at, and bothered by other people. He was actually much more pleased with the wider range of ingredients available this month, and honestly didn't mind the persistent flower theme that came with it. It had definably won the administrator in charge of this month—Riki—points in his book. ]


[ SCENARIO C || FLOOR 10: AQUARIUM ]

[ Angra has strange ways of amusing himself to pass the time. Such as going down to the futuristic aquarium in the middle of the night, wandering away from the post he normally took beside his Master's dormitory, and playing with the fish.

The glassless tanks of water suspended in place contain a countless, teeming multitude of fish, all darting to and fro or drifting lazily through the blue, and caustic light dappled the ground and the black figure of the Servant in rippling patterns. Schools of the fish swirled and dove in unison, faint light glimmering off their scale. Down further, it was possible to make out the distant blue shapes of larger marine creatures. A shark swam past, its mouth of sharp and jagged teeth visible.

He dipped his arm into the horizontal surface of the water, dozens of bubbles flying upward inside, and after several patient attempts, snagged a small fish. Pulling his dripping wet arm out of the aquarium, he inspected the fish that wiggled and squirmed in his grip, the curved lines of the gills flaring pointlessly for oxygen, and considered gutting it. A few drops of water dripped down onto the floor.

Sometimes he would only let them rapidly suffocate from their removal out of the water, doing nothing until they perished. Another option was he'd pull them apart and rip them into two and three and four before tossing the bloody bits back into the aquarium so the carnivorous fish could have an easy meal.

Or there were times when Angra just held the fish for a few seconds before sticking his arm back into the aquarium and releasing it unharmed into its proper environment. ]


[ SCENARIO D || FLOOR 101: GARDENS ]

[ —The surroundings around him were a verdant paradise; hundreds of pots of plants, thriving green gardens, trees coated in vines, and thousands of kinds of vegetation that broke over the edges of the floor and spilled onto the others below and above it. The hanging gardens were a floor rarely visited and he had assumed he would achieve a small measure of solitude here for awhile to be alone and be lazy.

And Angra is seated crosslegged in one of the more obscure spots, engaging in an activity that would likely surprise anybody who knew of him.

Reading.

He was reading a strange packet of papers bound tightly by a worn cover; if somebody got close enough to look, it becomes even stranger given that text is constantly appearing on the yellowed pages and scrolling across the paper of its own volition like an automatic typewrite that was operating itself without the hands of a person to type in a message. The words are in an old dialect and untranslated.

We suppose you can try to start up a conversation. Or something. ]


[ SCENARIO E || ANYWHERE IN THE TOWER: YOUR PICK]

[ Generally, Angra wanders through an assortment of floors at night and shows little concern for which ones he ends up on as long as they are neither overly threatening or extreme. It's possible to find him sitting on tombstones in the cemetery staring at the fabrication of the skies on one floor, slinking through the sandy caverns on another floor, or walking over the farmland on one of the lower floors. And elsewhere.

'Shirou' is much more easy to run into during the day, tinkering with dented toasters in the workshop, hanging out in the media room, or obsessively patrolling the hallways and floors of the Towers as normal. ]

Comments

[destructiveprinciple]

A whim.

[Unconcerned with what the other person thinks of it, Avenger turned his attention back to the fish, its small mouth opening and shutting feebly like it was gasping for breath.

He moved his hand to the base of the tail, and the other hand to the head of the fish. Calmly, he pulled in opposite directions and ripped the fish clean in two, sending a spurt of blood down onto the floor.]

[lightofhumanity]

[chaos didn't move or do anything when the person ripped the fish in half, but any trace of a smile that was still on his face fell.]

I see. Why injure others on a small whim then?

[destructiveprinciple]

[He regarded the dead fish in his hands with an expression that would closer match that of a petulant child, eyebrows crinkled together before exhaling out a huff of air, and shoving the two hunks of fish back into the aquarium. Small, dark clouds of blood drift up slowly and lazily as the pieces sink.

He flicks the water off his fingers, smiling in a repulsive manner.]

Eh, I wanted to. It's enjoyable to watch small things struggle.

[lightofhumanity]

[While chaos didn't comment on it, he didn't really like the fact that this person had just killed a fish on a whim. Even though he knew the boy had enjoyed it, it wasn't like chaos had to enjoy the fact that he did.]

Struggling is one thing. Dying is quite another.

[destructiveprinciple]

[Did Avenger ever care or ask for chaos to condone, or like, what he does? No, he didn't.

He looked back over at the other person. Dark yellow eyes stared unblinkingly.]

... Hm? The major difference between the two is struggling means that you continue to live, and dying means you've failed to continue living. [A shrug.]

[lightofhumanity]

[He didn't ask, which was why chaos wasn't voicing his personal opinion on the subject.]

Perhaps. However, if you enjoy watching the struggle, why force them to end something you enjoy watching?

[destructiveprinciples]

[Good for you, chaos. This is a fish we're using as a discussion device here. It's not a human so it takes a lot of the fun out of it for him.]

Why ask why? Sometimes it's even fun. [He's kinda bemused. A job was a job. And plays had a beginning, a build-up and the climax, followed by the descent and the ending, curtains falling down across the stage.] Extinguishing one struggle doesn't mean there aren't more. Life always has its fill of them.

[lightofhumanity]

[Sadly, chaos knew one other person who compared life to a large play, and the two were not on good terms.]

That is true. However, it means that there is one less for you to enjoy, even if life will have more. And what will you do if you end all the struggles that life has?

[destructiveprinciple]

[Well, since this person is speaking of ending all struggles in life as in killing everyone, Avenger supposed he'd finally stop existing himself. Mm, that's a good thought. :D]

A struggle isn't there just for me to enjoy it, nor can it continue for very long. That's not the point. One less or one more, it's such a small difference it had no decisive impact. [A laugh.] What would I do? ... Huh. Nothing, more likely than not.

[He really found it hard to care about destroying everything and losing everything. What would it matter to him?]

[lightofhumanity]

[While chaos didn't mind the idea of his own destruction, he knew it would be a hard thing to do..and if he ever pulled it off, who would help humanity face Wilhelm?]

Perhaps not on you, but for those who cared about those struggles, it impacts them quite a bit. However..that does make sense. For if you end all struggles life has, you would be ending your own as well.

[destructiveprinciple]

[Avenger looks at this person in amusement. Sorta tauntingly;] So? You stated your question as 'there would be one less for me to enjoy, even if life will have more,' and not 'what the impact of losing those struggles would have on those who cared about it.' Those are two separate questions on what impact would occur to whom.

[And as for ending all the struggles in life and supposedly ending his own as well, he shakes his head.] Wrong, but good try.

[lightofhumanity]

Perhaps, if you view as one question only affecting you and the other only affecting other people. However, they both affect you and others in some way. After all, even if there is no one now, you might find someone you care about later..and end their struggle, whether you mean to or not. Or perhaps, one day, some emotion of grief will catch up with you. One can almost never tell with these things.

[destructiveprinciples]

[Avenger gets the feeling this person is trying to making a meaningful point here, but. He's going about it in all wrong ways, and thus the point is rendered moot to him. He had been affected by people. He had known people he had cared for. He had known love, once. He has killed them, he has ended their struggles willing or not, and they have killed them.

Assumptions like what this guy is making are truly annoying things.]

Grief? I have known grief. [He smiles. This guy has said 'perhaps' four or more times, almost straight in a row.] It's not possible to live a life unaffected by others, but having something end, by my hands or not, is just how it is.

[lightofhumanity]

[It was simply that chaos wasn't a huge fan of peeking into people's heads nowadays, since that tended to make people suspicious of him. At least..more so than they usually were sometimes.

As for the multiple use of 'perhaps', it was because chaos knew that he could be wrong sometimes. He had been in the past, after all.]

...That is true. However, if you are affected, why let more things end when they do not have to?

[destructiveprinciples]

[You don't need to peek inside peoples' heads to not make annoying assumptions about them and their ways of existences. There's no need to presume that refining from reading others' mind is an excuse for failing to effectively argue a point you want to make to them.

Avenger shrugs dispassionately and looks back at the blue waters of the aquarium.]

If you don't get it, why should I tell ya'?

[lightofhumanity]

[It wasn't much of an excuse..it just helped him see other people's pasts and let him know how to get his point across sometimes. If you could understand how someone thought, it made getting points across much easier.]

So that I might understand.

[destructiveprinciples]

[He looks at the schools of tiny fish in the aquarium; scales gleam and shimmer in the water as they swim in unison, a rippling mass of bones and gills and dead eyes.]

So you want to understand me. What, should I spell out how I see things for you?

[lightofhumanity]

[To chaos, the eyes were alive, but at Avenger's question, chaos actually smiled.]

Perhaps. It is, ultimately, up to you to decide how you help me understand.

[destructiveprinciples]

[A smirk appears on his face, small and thin. Whether the smirk is full of contempt or amusement, it's honestly hard to decipher.]

Hah. Really, I don't give two fucks either way.

[lightofhumanity]

May I ask why?

[destructiveprinciples]

Do you think asking will earn you a straight answer?

[lightofhumanity]

Perhaps not, but there is no harm in asking and letting the subject drift away if it becomes something you do not want to talk about.

[destructiveprinciple]

['Perhaps' again. He ought to start counting.

You're doing that 'overestimating how much he cares' thing again. And plus, asking would only earned him more dickery.] Didn't I just say I don't care either way?

[lightofhumanity]

So you did. However, people may spout many, many words..while keeping the truth buried all the while.

[destructiveprinciple]

[An...noyed...]

I'll repeat myself, just to be nice then.

I don't care either way. [His eyes idly track the fish swimming in the aquarium, as if waiting for one to drift close enough to catch and scoop out of the water.]