Doctor Edward Richtofen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
doctor_dismemberment) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-05-24 10:27 pm
doctor_dismemberment) wrote in towerofanimus2013-05-24 10:27 pm
The Doctor is [Under the Influence]
Characters: Dr. Richtofen and you; Dr. Richtofen and Ganondorf
Setting: Dormitory hallways (closed to Ganondorf); floor 48 (the graveyard), floor 2 (the infirmary), floor 19 (the second library), floor 1 (the cafeteria), random characters' dorm rooms.
Format: Starting with action, but I'll match you.
Summary: Dr. Richtofen gets punched, has a chat with an empty grave, does his job, searches through some books, goes batshit because his collar is orange, and crawls under beds after the rumor about him comes true.
Warnings: Usual Richtofen warnings apply (swearing, violence, mental instability - see his permissions post for details). Character death in the first prompt, and anyone who tags into the cafeteria one is at risk of injury/death.
Dormitory Hallways (Closed to Ganondorf; backdated to the day after the most recent Evil Meeting)
[Richtofen has been making a point to avoid Ganondorf after the travesty that was the Dark World, so of course he ignored the invitation to the latest Evil Meeting. He has very little patience, and sitting around listening to Ganondorf spout off some new, ridiculous plan while a bunch of idiots who think he's insane shoot him dirty looks is not something he wants to deal with. Even though he's fairly certain the others are plotting against him somehow, listening in on their plans still isn't enough motivation for him to actually sit still in a room with that big-nosed douche.
So that's why, when he sees Ganondorf walking down the hallway in his direction, Richtofen turns his head away and pretends like he didn't see him. He even starts to hum a cheery tune to himself.]
Graveyard
[He's been coming here a lot recently, and he's not quite sure why. Maybe he needs the pretend companionship after realizing that he hates the only person he considered something like a friend in this place. Whatever it is, he doesn't bother psychoanalyzing himself.
He refuses to believe that he actually misses him, but, as he sits by a gravestone marked "Tank Dempsey," he finds himself thinking that maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have that meat-headed brute around to use as a punching bag every now and again. Dempsey has the honor of being the only person from his world who's ever showed up in the Tower. Even if he was from some sort of weird timeline, the anger Richtofen felt when he ran into him was an exhilarating sort, one that nobody in the Tower can ignite in him. He'd operated on that dumb American sack of shit himself, wiped his memory and made him something just short of a slave. He doesn't have a bond like that with anyone in this place.
He's reclining back on his hands, talking to the empty grave like he'll actually get a response.]
The writing on the walls this month have been ridiculous, Dempsey. It ruins the decor of the place. I think it all would have been better if it were written in blood.
[He pauses and thinks that over for a second. With a wince, he lifts his left arm and looks down at it. Bandages peek out from under his sleeve.]
Actually, that is a shitty idea. [He sighs and rolls his shoulders.] You stupid Yankee bastard, sometimes I wish I had the luxury of seeing your stupid face all screwed up in pain around here...
[He all but collapses back onto the grass. Chatting with someone who can't answer you sure is exhausting.]
Infirmary
[Richtofen's glad that the rumors seemed to have stopped appearing on floor 2, because he was getting pretty sick of having to look at them every time he went to work. He was tempted to change a lot of them, but it would take a special set of circumstances to get him to consider carving even more useless words into his own body. At least his clothes cover the scars he has now.
Whenever someone wanders into the infirmary, Richtofen greets them somehow. Sometimes it's with a scowl, other times it's with a bored glance in their direction. Still other times, it seems like they've startled him while he's in the middle of talking to someone (even though no one else appears to be nearby), which causes him to jump and whip around in their direction with wide, suspicious eyes.
And every time, he asks the same question:] What can I do for you?
[Maybe if you're lucky, you can actually get him to dress your wounds.]
Second Library
["DATA EXPUNGED." It jumps out at him in black from pages dipped in red on almost every book he pulls off of the shelf. Richtofen had been excited to see that the missing sections of the library were finally restored, but this? This is just infuriating.
He pulls books out only long enough to flip through them, and when they're invariably altered in some way that makes reading them impossible, he tosses them behind his back onto a table covered with books he's already looked at. Some of them miss the pile and slide to the floor, and all of them land with a loud thunk. As well, Richtofen is muttering to himself as he scans the pages, and those mutters occasionally venture into the "shouting" territory. All in all, he's just not being a very considerate library patron.]
Cafeteria (Closed to first responder/any bystanders that want to get involved, but please, just one thread for this one!)
[Richtofen's carrying a tray to a table when it happens. Quick as a flash, like hitting a light switch, it's as if his higher brain functions shut off. They're replaced by a burning need, an uncontrollable instinct to rip and tear and shred anything he can get a hold of. The tray slides out of his hands and food splatters all over the floor as Richtofen surrenders to that urge. He stumbles forward, looking around with eyes vacant of personality but filled with venom, and charges toward the first person he sees. He growls mindlessly and tries his hardest to claw apart whichever unlucky person is closest to him.
But you shouldn't be surprised. His collar is orange, after all.]
Under Your Bed
[It just started making perfect sense all of a sudden. Why should he waste his time staying up all night in his dorm, casting paranoid glares at his sleeping roommates, when he could be doing much better things? If he manages to sneak into someone else's room and hide under their beds, he can hear whatever they're saying. He'll know who's plotting against him. To be perfectly honest, he's surprised that he didn't think of it before.
So here he lies, still and silent, underneath some poor sap's bed. The accommodations aren't ideal, but he can live with this. He has to know what they're talking about. What they're thinking.
He has to stay here for as long as possible.]
Setting: Dormitory hallways (closed to Ganondorf); floor 48 (the graveyard), floor 2 (the infirmary), floor 19 (the second library), floor 1 (the cafeteria), random characters' dorm rooms.
Format: Starting with action, but I'll match you.
Summary: Dr. Richtofen gets punched, has a chat with an empty grave, does his job, searches through some books, goes batshit because his collar is orange, and crawls under beds after the rumor about him comes true.
Warnings: Usual Richtofen warnings apply (swearing, violence, mental instability - see his permissions post for details). Character death in the first prompt, and anyone who tags into the cafeteria one is at risk of injury/death.
Dormitory Hallways (Closed to Ganondorf; backdated to the day after the most recent Evil Meeting)
[Richtofen has been making a point to avoid Ganondorf after the travesty that was the Dark World, so of course he ignored the invitation to the latest Evil Meeting. He has very little patience, and sitting around listening to Ganondorf spout off some new, ridiculous plan while a bunch of idiots who think he's insane shoot him dirty looks is not something he wants to deal with. Even though he's fairly certain the others are plotting against him somehow, listening in on their plans still isn't enough motivation for him to actually sit still in a room with that big-nosed douche.
So that's why, when he sees Ganondorf walking down the hallway in his direction, Richtofen turns his head away and pretends like he didn't see him. He even starts to hum a cheery tune to himself.]
Graveyard
[He's been coming here a lot recently, and he's not quite sure why. Maybe he needs the pretend companionship after realizing that he hates the only person he considered something like a friend in this place. Whatever it is, he doesn't bother psychoanalyzing himself.
He refuses to believe that he actually misses him, but, as he sits by a gravestone marked "Tank Dempsey," he finds himself thinking that maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have that meat-headed brute around to use as a punching bag every now and again. Dempsey has the honor of being the only person from his world who's ever showed up in the Tower. Even if he was from some sort of weird timeline, the anger Richtofen felt when he ran into him was an exhilarating sort, one that nobody in the Tower can ignite in him. He'd operated on that dumb American sack of shit himself, wiped his memory and made him something just short of a slave. He doesn't have a bond like that with anyone in this place.
He's reclining back on his hands, talking to the empty grave like he'll actually get a response.]
The writing on the walls this month have been ridiculous, Dempsey. It ruins the decor of the place. I think it all would have been better if it were written in blood.
[He pauses and thinks that over for a second. With a wince, he lifts his left arm and looks down at it. Bandages peek out from under his sleeve.]
Actually, that is a shitty idea. [He sighs and rolls his shoulders.] You stupid Yankee bastard, sometimes I wish I had the luxury of seeing your stupid face all screwed up in pain around here...
[He all but collapses back onto the grass. Chatting with someone who can't answer you sure is exhausting.]
Infirmary
[Richtofen's glad that the rumors seemed to have stopped appearing on floor 2, because he was getting pretty sick of having to look at them every time he went to work. He was tempted to change a lot of them, but it would take a special set of circumstances to get him to consider carving even more useless words into his own body. At least his clothes cover the scars he has now.
Whenever someone wanders into the infirmary, Richtofen greets them somehow. Sometimes it's with a scowl, other times it's with a bored glance in their direction. Still other times, it seems like they've startled him while he's in the middle of talking to someone (even though no one else appears to be nearby), which causes him to jump and whip around in their direction with wide, suspicious eyes.
And every time, he asks the same question:] What can I do for you?
[Maybe if you're lucky, you can actually get him to dress your wounds.]
Second Library
["DATA EXPUNGED." It jumps out at him in black from pages dipped in red on almost every book he pulls off of the shelf. Richtofen had been excited to see that the missing sections of the library were finally restored, but this? This is just infuriating.
He pulls books out only long enough to flip through them, and when they're invariably altered in some way that makes reading them impossible, he tosses them behind his back onto a table covered with books he's already looked at. Some of them miss the pile and slide to the floor, and all of them land with a loud thunk. As well, Richtofen is muttering to himself as he scans the pages, and those mutters occasionally venture into the "shouting" territory. All in all, he's just not being a very considerate library patron.]
Cafeteria (Closed to first responder/any bystanders that want to get involved, but please, just one thread for this one!)
[Richtofen's carrying a tray to a table when it happens. Quick as a flash, like hitting a light switch, it's as if his higher brain functions shut off. They're replaced by a burning need, an uncontrollable instinct to rip and tear and shred anything he can get a hold of. The tray slides out of his hands and food splatters all over the floor as Richtofen surrenders to that urge. He stumbles forward, looking around with eyes vacant of personality but filled with venom, and charges toward the first person he sees. He growls mindlessly and tries his hardest to claw apart whichever unlucky person is closest to him.
But you shouldn't be surprised. His collar is orange, after all.]
Under Your Bed
[It just started making perfect sense all of a sudden. Why should he waste his time staying up all night in his dorm, casting paranoid glares at his sleeping roommates, when he could be doing much better things? If he manages to sneak into someone else's room and hide under their beds, he can hear whatever they're saying. He'll know who's plotting against him. To be perfectly honest, he's surprised that he didn't think of it before.
So here he lies, still and silent, underneath some poor sap's bed. The accommodations aren't ideal, but he can live with this. He has to know what they're talking about. What they're thinking.
He has to stay here for as long as possible.]
]
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