Phoenix Wright (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hobologic) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-05-11 08:04 pm
hobologic) wrote in towerofanimus2013-05-11 08:04 pm
The fundamental things apply
Characters: Phoenix Wright and YOU
Setting: Room 4-20; dormitory floors; elevator; floors 14, 28, 32, 37
Format: Starting with prose, will match any format
Summary: Phoenix arrives in the tower and goes exploring.
Warnings: None yet. Will update if necessary.
Room 4-20 and dormitories:
After reading the letters, Phoenix sits on the bed for a while, thinking. It's a lot to take in. It seems like a joke, or a dream. It is, quite frankly, mad. Worlds destroyed? Magical towers? (And just when he'd been looking forward to a spot of nice semi-normalcy.) The problem is, as mad as it is, it feels real. He pinches himself. That doesn't work. He frowns. He doesn't know what to think, but whatever he thinks, it isn't good. Suddenly, he gets up. He changes into his usual clothes, sliding his arms into his hoodie and zipping it up, then pushing his hat on over his spiky hair.
Sitting around feeling upset and confused isn't going to get things done or solve any mysteries. He heads out into the hallway and down the corridors of the dormitories. He has to find out more about this place, and there is no time like the present. He makes his way down the hallways at an unhurried pace, every now and then stopping to examine a wall or a door, or even a suspicious patch of floor. There isn't much to examine here, but he does his best.
The Elevator:
So, it seems you're stuck in the elevator during the long trip down to the first floor. With you is a man wearing a beanie, humming to himself. Off key. He seems quite determined to keep humming, too.
Floor Fourteen:
Phoenix has gone through a number of floors now, and he could use a break.
Violet lemonade isn't grape juice, but he couldn't find any grape juice anywhere, so violet lemonade it is. He'll have to make do. He's brought two whole bottles with him into the media room. With his precious beverages, Phoenix has sat himself down in one of the room's many beanbag chairs. The setting as a whole might be unpleasant, but he does appreciate a good beanbag chair. He's currently playing a car racing game and is doing his best to handle both the game controller and his lemonade bottle.
It's not going very well. Not only are his scores atrocious and his crashes near constant, but the beanbag chair is in imminent danger of being soaked with lemonade. Still, Phoenix continues to concentrate on the game, seemingly unaware of the peril both he and the chair are in. (Or is he?)
Floor Twenty-Eight:
A musician ought to feel right at home on this floor. However, Phoenix isn't entirely at ease, much as he isn't entirely a musician. He gives the organ at the center a wide berth, but manages to find an ordinary looking piano that's more his speed. With a deep breath, he sits down and begins to play. The resulting sound could be called a song if it weren't so garbled and bewilderingly played. As it is, it's just barely identifiable as this tune.
Floor Thirty-Two:
He's surprised to see the outside floors. They defy all rules of architecture and logic. He shouldn't be surprised, he knows, not after all he's seen, but he is, nonetheless.
He makes his way out onto the floating island warily, but nothing happens. Nothing dangerous appears. He makes his way across the island, thoughtfully. He has a lot to think about, here. Playing video games and playing the piano haven't done much to relax him, and his investigations have come to nothing so far. Nothing but more weirdness. He keeps walking. He doesn't stop until he stumbles upon a cluster of plants, bearing fruit.
He pauses to study them. Grapes. There's something alluring about them. He knows, right away, that he shouldn't risk eating them. Nonetheless, he leans down to pick one, curious. He turns it over in his fingers. They seem like perfectly normal grapes. They smell good, too. Phoenix sighs. Now, this is just cruel.
Setting: Room 4-20; dormitory floors; elevator; floors 14, 28, 32, 37
Format: Starting with prose, will match any format
Summary: Phoenix arrives in the tower and goes exploring.
Warnings: None yet. Will update if necessary.
Room 4-20 and dormitories:
After reading the letters, Phoenix sits on the bed for a while, thinking. It's a lot to take in. It seems like a joke, or a dream. It is, quite frankly, mad. Worlds destroyed? Magical towers? (And just when he'd been looking forward to a spot of nice semi-normalcy.) The problem is, as mad as it is, it feels real. He pinches himself. That doesn't work. He frowns. He doesn't know what to think, but whatever he thinks, it isn't good. Suddenly, he gets up. He changes into his usual clothes, sliding his arms into his hoodie and zipping it up, then pushing his hat on over his spiky hair.
Sitting around feeling upset and confused isn't going to get things done or solve any mysteries. He heads out into the hallway and down the corridors of the dormitories. He has to find out more about this place, and there is no time like the present. He makes his way down the hallways at an unhurried pace, every now and then stopping to examine a wall or a door, or even a suspicious patch of floor. There isn't much to examine here, but he does his best.
The Elevator:
So, it seems you're stuck in the elevator during the long trip down to the first floor. With you is a man wearing a beanie, humming to himself. Off key. He seems quite determined to keep humming, too.
Floor Fourteen:
Phoenix has gone through a number of floors now, and he could use a break.
Violet lemonade isn't grape juice, but he couldn't find any grape juice anywhere, so violet lemonade it is. He'll have to make do. He's brought two whole bottles with him into the media room. With his precious beverages, Phoenix has sat himself down in one of the room's many beanbag chairs. The setting as a whole might be unpleasant, but he does appreciate a good beanbag chair. He's currently playing a car racing game and is doing his best to handle both the game controller and his lemonade bottle.
It's not going very well. Not only are his scores atrocious and his crashes near constant, but the beanbag chair is in imminent danger of being soaked with lemonade. Still, Phoenix continues to concentrate on the game, seemingly unaware of the peril both he and the chair are in. (Or is he?)
Floor Twenty-Eight:
A musician ought to feel right at home on this floor. However, Phoenix isn't entirely at ease, much as he isn't entirely a musician. He gives the organ at the center a wide berth, but manages to find an ordinary looking piano that's more his speed. With a deep breath, he sits down and begins to play. The resulting sound could be called a song if it weren't so garbled and bewilderingly played. As it is, it's just barely identifiable as this tune.
Floor Thirty-Two:
He's surprised to see the outside floors. They defy all rules of architecture and logic. He shouldn't be surprised, he knows, not after all he's seen, but he is, nonetheless.
He makes his way out onto the floating island warily, but nothing happens. Nothing dangerous appears. He makes his way across the island, thoughtfully. He has a lot to think about, here. Playing video games and playing the piano haven't done much to relax him, and his investigations have come to nothing so far. Nothing but more weirdness. He keeps walking. He doesn't stop until he stumbles upon a cluster of plants, bearing fruit.
He pauses to study them. Grapes. There's something alluring about them. He knows, right away, that he shouldn't risk eating them. Nonetheless, he leans down to pick one, curious. He turns it over in his fingers. They seem like perfectly normal grapes. They smell good, too. Phoenix sighs. Now, this is just cruel.
no subject
But all pretense of distractions and video game talk vanished when the subject returned to the tower itself.
"There's three things that are important to remember here," he explained. "The first is to arm yourself as much as you can, as everything is out to try and kill you. The second is to come back to the dorms before nightfall as the monsters get worst then. The third is..." he trailed off for a second. "You will die, but that death here isn't permanent. Each time will feel like a real death. Some, more painful than others. I've already died four times myself."
A charming ray of sunshine, basically.
"Each level has traps set out to kill you. Only a few are harmless, like the flower field."
no subject
The news Naoya delivers isn't good. Phoenix isn't exactly surprised, considering what he's seen and heard so far, but his luck really doesn't get any better, does it? "I don't have any weapons. Not that--I'd know how to use them." He's never really liked weapons, though he doesn't have anything against self-defense. "Going back to the dorms, I can do. Got it." Retreating sounds about his speed.
Phoenix isn't exactly feeling the warmth of all this sunshine and cheer. What he's feeling is not good at all. "You died? How is that possible? What is this place?" Because that is not, in any way, normal or natural. He also doesn't want to die. Even if, somehow, he'd come back.
no subject
"Before the events in my hometown," Naoya offered, trying to encourage Phoenix, "I didn't know how to use a katana or a submachine gun either. There are plenty of people willing to teach you here, myself included...although a few of the other residents are less than pleasant. You'll need to steer clear of them, along with the Tower Administrators. Think of them like foes in video games." Haha yes, let's go back to comparing everything to a video game, he was really good with that.
"From what we learned and I know, they are able to siphon our souls out from our bodies and put them in another. It's a strange feeling, dying the first time. I got used to it."
no subject
"I'm willing to learn." If only to protect himself and the people who matter to him. As ridiculous as he felt about being an armed warrior, he was willing to try. "Do they have many spare weapons lying around?"
Not that he thought he thought he could become some kind of weapons expert. He wasn't cut out to be a video game protagonist. Unless there happened to be a video game about lawyers, somewhere. "So, dangerous monsters, dangerous residents, dangerous administrators... I'm assuming almost everything is dangerous here." It was such a beautiful place, really. He felt at home already.
"Our souls? That's--really something." And it's hard to swallow, although Naoya has no reason to lie to him, as far as he can tell. "Used to it? I don't know if I could get used to that. This happens all the time? People die here that often?" Of course, Phoenix, it's a monster tower full of video game villains. "It really is like a video game." Multiple lives and all.