towerofanimus | Bad feelings are there for a reason [Open]

Characters: Nesir and you
Setting: Floor 31,dorm bathrooms, room 2-01
Format: Any and all
Summary: Despite a bad feeling Nesir tried to write a fourth rumour because she's an idiot. It went wrong and now she's trying to hide
Warnings: Normal event warnings, plus be warned that as it is a fourth rumour it is carved on her face, blood lots of it.

She shouldn't. Every part of her told her that this, writing another rumour was a bad idea, that bad things would happen. But those feelings weren't her own, she had no logical proof. These were feelings given to her by the tower and she was sick of being controlled by them.

Last month they had given her no choice but to obey, taken away all her choices. This time she had a choice and she was going to do this, just to spite them.

So far her rumours had been changed by others, and when she had written about Richtofen... she was pretty sure that was not what she had wanted to write. But this time she would guard her carving more carefully, make sure none could change it.

Spreading chaos was what she was good at, and if she could help Ganondorf at the same time then it was worth while.

She brought her knife to the wall. You will die if you do not obey Ganondorf.

As she began to write she felt the pain she had come to assosciate with these carvings, but on her face. Her eyes widened but her hand didn't stop writing, it couldn't. A moment later she stood, blood dripping down her face looking at the wall, at the writing written in blood.

You will die if you read this message.

She would die. Again. She didn't mind that much, but she had been trying not to. How was she going to die though? And why had she written that?

Bathroom A trail of blood led the way from floor 31 to the second floor bathroom where Nesir was trying to clean the blood from her face. The cuts were still bleeding though and her attempts were just making things worse, her hands, training clothes, the sink, were all covered in blood.

Maybe she would just die of blood loss.

Room 2-01 She was still bleeding, things like talking made the cuts open again but she had given up trying to clean it. She hadn't died yet but it would happen, she knew it. She wanted to just go out and distract herself but she didn't want others seeing her face, so she was sat on her bed facing the corner, working away at a piece of wood, cloak drew up around her, ignoring the blood staining the sheets and wood.

She was an idiot.

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She nodded. "In my trunk," Ocelot said quickly, moving towards the door. "Stay here, I'll be right back with the medical kit." She left, moving at a brisk pace, hoping she wouldn't return to Nesir collapsed on the floor.

Not quite, though she was gripping the sink, knuckles white and she forced herself to stay focused and stay alive. Death might be inevitable but it was almost a matter of pride to stay focused as long as she could.

It wasn't long before Ocelot returned, the medical kid tucked under her arm. It was a fairly standard kit-- lots of bandages and antiseptic but not exactly anything that could treat a very severe wound. The soldier was no surgeon, but she nodded stiffly at Nesir when she returned, setting the box on the sink as she pulled it open.

It was experience alone that kept Ocelot from panicking at how badly Nesir was bleeding.

Nesir went over, looking at what was in there, it was a bit different to what she was used to, but Ocelot came from a different world.

"It do be an interesting study in what muscles do be moving what in your face." She told her, she had been studying how the muscles moved when she smiled or talked, by which cuts opened and bled more.

In a tower filled with magic users, the use of conventional medicine from Earth was probably a bit silly, but Ocelot had never seen much use in trying to teach herself magic. She didn't really have the capacity for it, and a bit of minor surgery on the battlefield wasn't anything new to her. "Try not to move them too much, you might open up the cuts again," she said in a tone that made it clear she was speaking from experience.

Nesir would rather conventional medicine anyways, even if it was strange and other worldly. She gave a tiny nod at the instruction and sat as still as she could.

Maybe it's all for nothing, but Ocelot still does her best to clean out the injury and wrap it up tight with the bandages. "You'll be fine," she says. It's not exactly the most comforting thing to say given that the words are written all over Nesir's face, but it's all that she can think to say.

She sat still feeling weird, she couldn't remember the last time someone had tended her injuries, the injuries that weren't caused by being set on fire or frostbite anyways.

"I will no be." She shrugged, "But thanks."

Knowing the tower, Ocelot was certain that Nesir would die, but she wasn't about to acknowledge the fact. "I hope that this madness ends soon," she murmured. The everyday chaos of the tower and the experiments of Jason seemed somehow better than writings on a wall that could come true.

"They will be getting bored eventually." The administrators or the people of the tower. Either way the writing would stop soon enough.

She smiled at that. It was thin-lipped and severe, but still a smile. "Hopefully sooner rather than later." It was a big enough headache to see the rumors appear on the network. The last thing she needed was for this to go on for another week and possibly injure herself or Nesir further.

"Lets be hoping so." She shrugged again.

"I will be getting you some new bandages when this do be being over." She could try and bully Richtofen into stealing some for her.

Ocelot smiled. "Thank you," she said. It wasn't like she had much usage for the bandages. As long as injuries were kept to a minimum she could mend them, at least amongst Ganondorf's allies.

Since most of Ganondorf's allies had magic or healing abilities or just general invulnerability they probably weren't used much.

"You will be being careful alright."

On-site medical attention had never been a strong suit of Ocelot's, so she was grateful to have found herself around allies that did not need to be watched so carefully. There was something about removing a bullet with a knife that she would never full want to do. "I will," she said with a nod.

"We'll meet again soon."

"We will be." She managed a small smile as the other woman left.

Bad feelings are there for a reason [Open]

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