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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
[ Her hostility slips away as she stares him down in his display of "eagerness" of the monsters coming to hurt him. ]
You're used to it? I don't understand.
no subject
[He folds his arms and stares at her, eyebrow raised. It's right about then he realizes that the fish isn't flopping about in his hand anymore. He glances down at it; its gone motionless and limp, gills no longer flaring uselessly for air.
Oops. Didn't mean to do that.
Of course, what did he expect? A fish can't live for very long outside of water.]
no subject
[ Like a frightened animal cornered, Rin lashes out. The tables have turned definitely and much like that fish, she was gasping for air. Some kind of leverage to use against this unknown stranger. ]
no subject
Avenger, not particularly interested in dead fish, figures he'll throw it back into the aquarium once they're done talking. ]
Temper, temper. You've been through an unreasonable lot, right. But you don't need me to tell you that. What's the matter with you?
[ They'd probably been the same for awhile there. If Rin follows Sakura's trend in backstory and being an artificial lesser Grail, that is. ]
no subject
[ If anything, she's very good at switching her moods. Startled by the remark (what does he know), she's taken back and now views him as something more threatening than ever before. ]
There's nothing the matter with me. What kind of person says that to someone they've just met?
no subject
[ He suggested mock-cheekily. Angra unfolds his arms and gestures with one hand to the side, palm turned upward. The floor tiles are cool against his feet, bare save for the black wrappings. ]
There's plenty the matter with you, but sure, if ya' want to say otherwise.
no subject
What did you mean that you've suffered? Has someone or something hurt you in this stupid tower?
no subject
Mm, what I meant? I meant pretty much what I said, in so many words. I've suffered.
[ He speaks matter-of-factly, in a tone of voice generally reserved for discussing the price of strawberries or the weather. The small physical injuries were so a minor concern that them didn't bother him. Besides, Naoya did provide a steady, replenishing source of prana to heal himself with. ] Nah. Nothing in this tower has hurt me? So far, anyway. It's been kinda like... a vacation, honestly.
no subject
[ It leaves a bad taste in her mouth to say that much. So long as she can keep the conversation focused on this individual (who treads dangerously close to unnerving her), then she can maintain her posture in the lead.
At least that's where she thinks she stands currently. ]
Your own world is cruel, isn't it? Do they treat everyone like you or are you an exception for some reason?
no subject
[ He's bemused. Angra takes a single step forward, regarding her with an odd gaze, not entirely dissimilar to that of a curious wild animal that hadn't been eating anything for awhile. It made sense, of course; after all, he wasn't human. ]
Me? The latter, though there wasn't a reason behind it to begin with. [ That changed later on. Maybe it would have been a tiniest bit more bearable if it had actually made sense, the villagers' logic. (No, it wouldn't have been, it wasiswillbe unbearable always always always.) ]
no subject
[ That doesn't make any sense to the magus who despite her own harsh life understood one thing only: that people who deserve to be hurt will suffer and those who didn't will have it easier. Isn't that the way it's supposed to work? ]
I don't get it. What world breaks that law?
no subject
[ Which is the outrageous joke which is him which is nothing but a void, stuck woodenly pretending at things he had no right to. But whatever. The abnormal Servant shrugged. A wise miss like Rin, he figured she'd catch on sooner or later. ]
The world of humans, of course. Man, it's a nasty piece of work, that world.
no subject
[ It isn't as though Rin has much of a counter to that. The very same world hasn't treated her nicely. ]
There are more good people in the world than wicked ones, you know. [ But even as she says that, it doesn't sound very genuine. ]
no subject
Yeah, good people do exist. Every species has variations like that.
But think 'bout it. There are a lot of humans in the world, and the numbers swell steadily with time. So. Even if more than half of 'em were as you say, 'good people,' that's still a gigantic amount of wickedness in their souls, mm?
[ Avenger smiles melancholically. People were miserable and worthless to him. Apathy and human failings would deride the hearts of good people, unintentionally or not.
If it were just the wickedness of a single soul, then it would have little impact on the world. Put a larger level of wickedness into the system however, and well. ]
But what does it matter if they were? The system mankind has constructed ruins it. It's the fact that its system itself is evil, and nobody bothers to change it into something better, no matter many centuries have passed.