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towerofanimus2013-05-10 08:13 am
destructiveprinciple) wrote in towerofanimus2013-05-10 08:13 am
☠ 003 | tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake
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. ]
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. ]
no subject
She's being selfish, she knows, not handing out food and keeping to herself, but Arturia feels as if she is too much of a mess to be of use to anyone right now. Not to mention she's just tired after first the infiltration downstairs, then the kidnapping and brainwashing, then Archer's manipulation. It's safe to say Arturia wants nothing to do with people at all for the time being. The only reason she's even in her room is to sleep, as she had discovered long ago what not sleeping in your own bed every few days could do to a person.
The knock on the door woke her and she rolled onto her back, running her hands over her eyes before sitting up. With a snap of her fingers that was more out of her own amusement in the moment than necessity, the nightshirt she wore changed to her dress and she rose from the bed. She reaches a hand up to check that, yes, her hair is indeed up and heads to the door to see if it's a visitor for one of her roommates.
She looks visibly shocked to see Shirou there, even if she had known he would return back to life in this place. There's something about the fact he's in front of the door to her room that makes her stomach do a nervous flip. For the first time she understands his hesitance in letting her sleep in his room when they had been Master and Servant.]
Shirou? What are you doing here?
[Her eyes are instantly drawn to the pastries for a moment. She hasn't hunted in days!]
Where did you get that?
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You've been skipping meals, which is unlike you. I was worried.
[ He blinks at her next question and hefts up the basket of pastries, still warm and soft from the oven. There's a few varieties tucked inside; sugary ones, one or two cream-filled ones, and some Japanese-homecooked style ones. ]
Huh, these? The restaurant on the twenty-first floor provides decent ingredients for cooking if you fulfill requests for them. [ They would have just give him the food already baked, but Shirou had preferred to do that himself. ]
no subject
She's speechless as she looks at him, honestly speechless. Why would he go to this much effort for her? Hadn't he been more worried about Rin the first time they had desperately made love? Hadn't he left her alone on the rooftop to go after Shinji?
Hadn't he also gone searching for her after their fight on the bridge, convinced her to come home when she'd been determined to fight by herself to keep him safe? Hadn't he defended her when Gilgamesh came for her as she nearly bled to death upon the street almost costing him his own life?
Arturia steels her heart. Touching as the gesture is, she knows if she isn't careful she'll fall in love all over again and that is the last thing she needs at this point. The last thing either of them need. She might still have some affections for Shirou, but there were more important things to worry about than love.]
The events of the last few days have left me weary. I apologize if I worried you. [He didn't even know how Archer had manipulated her, did he? Of course not, he had been dead at the time. She'd stayed with both bodies until the retrieval units came for them.]
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[ And then he would have lost a finger or two. Anyway.
Saber shouldn't be left alone to dwell by herself for too long. It was something of a bad habit to develop, from the view of Shirou, who unreasonably worried about everyone. She put so much pride and weight on those shoulders.
Maybe company and good food wouldn't fix the situation. What the administration had done to her, to all the other victims, was entirely unforgivable and not something easily repaired by the likes of him. But there's no way company and good food can make the situation worse as he sees it. His forehead crinkles. ]
Well, it's not surprising. What happened was a bunch of bullshit. There's no need to apologize for being tired out by it. [ His anger over the event was obvious. ]
no subject
I made a promise to you to train you. I should have at least let you know I needed to rest instead of letting you worry.
[Instead of avoiding him for so long, instead of making him go to this effort. Still, she reaches for the basket, extra careful not to brush his fingers. Arturia has managed well in not getting flustered during their training sessions, but she has been very careful not to touch him too much when unnecessary or to act strange when they do.]
Would you like to eat with me?
[Even if she's trying to move on from those feelings, Shirou had been worried for her. Not to mention she's tired of being by herself these last few days. Even as reclusive as Arturia has been since she got here, she did have moments where she wished for company. Shirou is here, so why not have his? Especially when he went to so much effort for her sake.]
The lounge on the eightieth floor is a good place to eat.
no subject
After the last few days? I'm just glad you admitted you needed to rest, Saber. That's good enough for me.
[ He hands her basket of pastries, again a little too dense to even notice the carefulness in her hands and the deliberate efforts she puts into avoiding touching his skin or any part of his person. Shirou doesn't think Saber has a reason to behave in a flustered manner around him, so even a careless misstep on her part would have flown over his head. At her offer, he perks up with a smile; ]
Sure. I'd like to do that.
[ She didn't act like she was in the mood for battling their way down the Tower against the various deadly hazards and unsafe monsters that filled the floors however. Nor did he want her in harms' way either. So Shirou suggested a course to chart out to the lounge on the eightieth floor; ]
We could take the elevator down to the first floor, then walk the rest of the way?
Eighty-first floor. My bad. XD
We can just take it down to the floor itself. Or have you been using the stairs so much you forgot it can go to other floors?
Oops :I
Oh right, I... Yeah, I totally did forget about that.
[ Using the stairs the majority of the time so he wouldn't miss any people in trouble was good exercise at least? ]
Figures it'd happen when Saber is calling him on being a ditz.
Come along. These will not eat themselves as you very well know.
no subject
Alright, alright—hey, you'd better not eat all of them.
no subject
[Teasing still. It's weird to her how easy it is to feel at ease around Shirou despite everything--even the lingering nerves that, one day, she'll have to tell him what happened between them in her world. She has not been able to bring herself to, every single time she tries to she winds up with knots in her stomach that he will hate her and never trust her again.
But right now, tired and drained as she is both emotionally and physically and with the comfort of Shirou's food and company it's hard to care.
She looks at him over her shoulder, the blush on his face one that almost makes her feel pity for his simplicity.]
Though I suppose I could deign to share them.
no subject
[ Not that Shirou would feel wronged by her keeping all of the pastries to herself, it's that she should have some manners and all. Saber's looking back at him, and she still looks tired tired tired, but she has the energy to tease him, so he must be doing some good! Right?
As they walk, as jokingly as he can manage;]
Why, many thanks, your highness. I'm honored. My worried about dining with someone capable of eating anything placed in front of her are appeased.
[Unless it's octopus. He'd never figured out why she'd reacted to the live octopus they'd bought for supper like that.]
no subject
It is not my fault you are such an excellent cook who continues to put said food in front of me.
[They get to the elevator and she hits the button.]
no subject
An excellent chef is really pointless unless he has hungry stomachs to fill with good food. Therefore, there's no reason to make good food without somebody there to eat it, meaning it's not my fault either.
[ Soon enough, the elevator doors slide open and they can step inside. ]
no subject
You could have chosen another stomach to fill, Shirou.
no subject
Why would I do that, Saber? Filling your stomach is a task that can't be relinquished to amateurs. And Sakura's already got enough to do.
no subject
She hits 81 then waits for the elevator to descend.]
And you are the only one I know of fit to cook for a king.
no subject
He looks sheepish, arms lax by his sides and legs held straight. ]
I think I'm gonna call you out on your bias there this time.
no subject
[He was the first one to cook for her for the sake of being a good host, after all.]
no subject
[ Being a good host to your quests, and more importantly, parts of your household, is a vital skill. ]
no subject
no subject
... Uh, isn't that—well, I'm really happy you think so highly of my cooking...
[ She'll need to wait like, two seconds when his brain reboots before he say anything intelligent. ]