Neal Cassidy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wegotlucky) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-05-11 08:49 pm
wegotlucky) wrote in towerofanimus2013-05-11 08:49 pm
Everybody lie down so you won't get hurt when the sun bursts
Characters: Neal, Mr. Gold, and You!
Setting: Floor 32, Cafeteria, Floor 19
Format: Starting prose, but I can do either
Summary: Neal wanders the tower
Floor 32 (closed to Mr. Gold)
Night had fallen in the tower. It was as good of a time as any for Neal to go for a walk and see what there was. He didn't often venture outside at night, but he had been in the forest before. Here, he could hunt. He had a small quiver of arrows strapped to his back. Rather sloppily made, the arrows had a tendency to not shoot straight, and would more than likely break after bouncing off of anything, but he hoped that there would be something to hunt out here. A rabbit, maybe.
Neal liked this month's food, but anything he could do to keep himself sane, to keep himself alert. The forest was dark and still, and he was well aware that there was danger lurking in every corner, just waiting to leap out at him.
Whatever monsters lurked in the forest, he hoped that they would leave him alone long enough to snag him a rabbit and leave without incident. He still had his sword with him, by his side, if it came to that, after all.
Cafeteria
He had only been in the tower a few short months. Already, though, it felt like an eternity. He hadn't been subjected to the sheer amount of torture directly, but he had seen enough of it for him to be feeling a great sadness in his chest. He missed Emma dearly, he missed his son. He wanted to be reunited with Tamara, who had to be alive out there, somewhere.
At least May was shaping up to be a month that didn't involve the complete torture of people who he was beginning to care about. And the chicken was pretty good, too. Between bites of food he sketched out a few idle illustrations. None of them particularly good, but it was a reminder of home to him. A person from Earth would recognize landmarks from London and New York, and an array of vehicles, both modern and old.
Floor 19
Neal had never before entered this library. He had been in the one on the third floor many times before, reading the various books on the shelves. "So empty," he marveled, looking at the large gaps on the shelf curiously. Just what had happened in the tower? He hadn't exactly found out much about the history of it, after all-- no one seemed to know much, and the fact that it appeared that everything had been emptied out was extremely suspicious. Just what did they want to hide?
Still, it seemed as good of an opportunity as any to flip through the books that existed. He pulled a thick tome about magic off of one of the shelves, setting it down on a desk as he started to flip through it. To his surprise, the book was extremely detailed. Certainly not magic he knew about, but it was full of detailed accounts of research into spells that could create vast storms, famine... things that he didn't think that magic could possibly do.
Whatever world this was referring to, he hoped to never see it.
Setting: Floor 32, Cafeteria, Floor 19
Format: Starting prose, but I can do either
Summary: Neal wanders the tower
Floor 32 (closed to Mr. Gold)
Night had fallen in the tower. It was as good of a time as any for Neal to go for a walk and see what there was. He didn't often venture outside at night, but he had been in the forest before. Here, he could hunt. He had a small quiver of arrows strapped to his back. Rather sloppily made, the arrows had a tendency to not shoot straight, and would more than likely break after bouncing off of anything, but he hoped that there would be something to hunt out here. A rabbit, maybe.
Neal liked this month's food, but anything he could do to keep himself sane, to keep himself alert. The forest was dark and still, and he was well aware that there was danger lurking in every corner, just waiting to leap out at him.
Whatever monsters lurked in the forest, he hoped that they would leave him alone long enough to snag him a rabbit and leave without incident. He still had his sword with him, by his side, if it came to that, after all.
Cafeteria
He had only been in the tower a few short months. Already, though, it felt like an eternity. He hadn't been subjected to the sheer amount of torture directly, but he had seen enough of it for him to be feeling a great sadness in his chest. He missed Emma dearly, he missed his son. He wanted to be reunited with Tamara, who had to be alive out there, somewhere.
At least May was shaping up to be a month that didn't involve the complete torture of people who he was beginning to care about. And the chicken was pretty good, too. Between bites of food he sketched out a few idle illustrations. None of them particularly good, but it was a reminder of home to him. A person from Earth would recognize landmarks from London and New York, and an array of vehicles, both modern and old.
Floor 19
Neal had never before entered this library. He had been in the one on the third floor many times before, reading the various books on the shelves. "So empty," he marveled, looking at the large gaps on the shelf curiously. Just what had happened in the tower? He hadn't exactly found out much about the history of it, after all-- no one seemed to know much, and the fact that it appeared that everything had been emptied out was extremely suspicious. Just what did they want to hide?
Still, it seemed as good of an opportunity as any to flip through the books that existed. He pulled a thick tome about magic off of one of the shelves, setting it down on a desk as he started to flip through it. To his surprise, the book was extremely detailed. Certainly not magic he knew about, but it was full of detailed accounts of research into spells that could create vast storms, famine... things that he didn't think that magic could possibly do.
Whatever world this was referring to, he hoped to never see it.
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He flipped through a few more pages, looking at the illustrated faces of magicians whose names had been etched out. "Magic destroyed my family."
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