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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
The fun is in being creative in how you kill them, else it'll all get old!
[ It's then that she turns around, staring at the aquarium - and the strange fish in it near where the smaller one was killed. ]
I bet you wouldn't even dare to take on one of those, either way.
no subject
Get old? Get old? Is murder like some book you can read so much that you get sick of it?
[He chuckles, idly baiting her. While he's aware she would probably take on one of those fishes fearlessly;]
Callin' me a a coward? Like I care. I bet you wouldn't either.
no subject
But it's easy enough to bait Evatrice, especially when she's emotional to begin with and when it's about something she enjoys more than anything like murder, so she's already turning to the tank. And there really isn't a single part of her that seems scared. ]
Just watch..!
[ She swings her staff and one of the bigger monstrous fish suddenly stops swimming, hanging still in the water. It starts to look more and more confused as its body grows like he's being filled with air.. until he grows so big that he just pops like a balloon, but instead of air being blown everywhere afterwards, confetti twirls around. Of course it's in the water, so it doesn't look as good as it could.. hence why Evatrice puts a hand on her hip, not looking entirely satisfied. ]
.. Huh, that ending was sort of lame.
no subject
Fun isn't terribly high on that list of priorities. Self-satisfaction, yes. Fun, not so much. Angra doesn't care one bit if she thinks him a boring coward.]
Huh.
[He watches without snide commentary as she again swings her staff and the monstrous fish swells and swells in response, expanding rapidly until it bursts like a punctured balloon. Angra walks forward a couple steps, a little closer to the aquarium and looks at the confetti swirling in the water. Without turning around to look at her;]
Surprisingly un-bloody, coming from a wicked type like you. Yeah, laaame.
no subject
Wha-t, you got any complaints with it? Sure, it isn't as great as I'd normally do, but it's not like I'm going to waste my best ideas on a guy like you! [ So she just blames it on someone else. As usually. ]
no subject
Schoolgirls were pretty bloodthirsty naturally anyway.]
Geez, I call bullshit. Maybe you're being stringy with your inspirations, but that was your damn idea, not mine. [:V]
no subject
Like your stupid just holding fish above the water and putting them back in thing is much better.
no subject
Says the cocky show-off.There is a high chance this conversation might devolve into a very mature volley of insults between two murderers who kill for two differing motivations. ]Aaah, but I wasn't aiming to impress anybody, ya' see? Without an audience, there's no reason for a play.
no subject
Even if you're not trying to impress, then that means it's for yourself! And doing something that boring would never be satisfying to me. [ A chunk of the first fish that was torn apart lies outside of the "tank", and she steps on it, digging her foot into it. ] Any normal person could kill something the normal way!
no subject
I beg your eternal pardon, your majesty, dressing something up as fancy and drawing it out makes it boring to me! That wouldn't satisfy me either. I just like killing, plain and simple! [ Ripping, maiming, tearing apart of the flesh, blood going everywhere, purely for amusement, purely because it was the only way he could remain insane. He smirks sarcastically at her. ] Careful, careful, you might get fish scales on your shoes and then where would we be?
[ Very maturely, under his breath; ] Antareh gav.
no subject
[ She turns around, letting out an obviously drawn out sigh - she's probably just exaggerating in a childish way as usually. ]
Whatever.. if you're just going to kill them in that boring way, then I have nothing left to find here. I'll go look for something more interesting in this tower.
no subject
[ lmao
He shrugs, looking at her as she turned her back to him. He mentally stuck out his tongue. ]
You do that. Have fun with it!
[ Now get lost, Beatrice~ ]