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towerofanimus2013-07-05 11:43 am
destructiveprinciple) wrote in towerofanimus2013-07-05 11:43 am
☠ 004 | all sufferings, all pleasures, all good and evil
Characters: Avenger and OPEN to all.
Setting: Dormitory levels, elsewhere and then the first floor, the seventy-fifth floor, and the twenty-fifth floor.
Format: Action spam to start with.
Summary: A typical open log for this month.
Warnings: All the Evils' in The World is present in this post which is a warning by itself, along with grossness/gore and blood in the first prompt? Also the expected fare for the Tower of Animus.
[ SCENARIO A || FLOOR 75: OUTSIDE ]
[ Seated on the grass warmed by the clear weather on this floor outside the twenty-story tower, the Servant is busily pulling the slowily-cooling intestines out of a dead monster, its stomach slit wide open. Its throat is a ravaged mess. A few other organs laid spattered bloodily on the ground next to Avenger; two hearts (who knew some of them had extra hearts?), what looks to be the liver, maybe a section of the stomach? It could be an alien-looking kidney. It's hard to identify them correctly. His arms are bright red up to the elbows.
What he couldn't dig out with his hands and strength, he used his short swords to cut them up further and make the task easier to complete.
One or two lumps of maimed tendons and meat that might have once resembled the regular monsters themselves, are left nearby as well, given a similarly careless treatment.
Boredom is a strange thing, when paired with constant murderous urges that Angra is attempting to redirect away from fellow residents. At least he decided to do this in a corner of this floor far away from the stairs? Not that he's making any attempt to conceal this from prying eyes. He just likes the quiet between hunting down the Tower-generated creatures. ]
[ SCENARIO B || FLOOR 25: THE MEADOW ]
[ His eyes are closed and he's flopped over onto his side onto the soft grass with one side of his face pressed against the ground, under the cool, dark shade of one of the trees in the meadow. His thin shoulders rise and fall in sync with his even, slow breathing. Taking a nap in the evening was pointless; it wasn't like he required sleep or even food or housing. But he felt the desire to pretend at it, and since he had no reason other than his instinctive paranoia to not to leave himself open in any manner, he went along with it. Angra had never quite regained the knack to true semblance of slumber after his first life, only managing a light doze or total dreamless unconsciousness at the best.
His sleep was restless and shallow.At least he doesn't snore.
So when somebody's feet unexpectedly impacts with the embodiment of all evils' ribs and there's a sudden, unwanted weight tripping over him, it roused him easily. Wheezing at the knee that comes down into his stomach, he rolls over, hurriedly trying to push them off of his body and sputters in confusion. ]
—!!? Wha, wh—
[ Disoriented and groggy, Avenger still snaps to wakefulness speedily in a few moments with an irritated snarl of fury as he realizes what happened. ]
—Watching where you're fuckin' going... [ He spat out, a tick mark show showing on his forehead; ] is way too much trouble, huh! Idiot!
[ VERY RUDE. ]
[ SCENARIO C || DORMITORY LEVELS: POST-SPARRING ]
[ There was a line of old scrapes and redness along his knuckles where Saber whacked him if he'd gotten careless for even an instance while fighting her, a newer bruise on one cheekbone and what felt like a swollen knot blooming on the top of his head from a blow to the skull. Generally, he looked like he'd gone biking on a deserted road, collided head-on with a small truck and come out the worse off.
Of course, that was usually the normal result of his sparring matches with Arturia: 'Shirou' getting beaten up repeatedly and mercilessly for one or two hours, stop for the day, do it again later, rinse, wash, repeat. He'd improved, yes, to the point where he could block her attacks occasionally and even deflect them, but he couldn't avoid getting knocked out. In today's session, he tried going on the offensive for a short time before changing his mind and deciding the price paid in the strength of her blows was too much, and playing it defensively in a battle against the Servant would probably work best.
His body burned with pain. 'Shirou' , ignoring his body's complaints of fresh soreness, wipes the lingering sweat off his forehead with his arm, calming his breathing down. The discomfort he was currently in would fade soon enough. As if to spite him until then, a knife of minor pain stabbed abruptly him in the side. ]
... Ow—ouch, owch...
[ He winced and dropped his arm back down to his side. ]
[ SCENARIO D || 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.
He's not a picky sort of guy.
It's possible to find him sitting on tombstones in the cemetery staring at the fabrication of the skies on one floor, not mourning the dead just looking at the view, slinking through the sandy caverns on another floor, or walking over the farmland on one of the lower floors.
'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, bruises or no bruises. Business as usual here! ]
Setting: Dormitory levels, elsewhere and then the first floor, the seventy-fifth floor, and the twenty-fifth floor.
Format: Action spam to start with.
Summary: A typical open log for this month.
Warnings: All the Evils' in The World is present in this post which is a warning by itself, along with grossness/gore and blood in the first prompt? Also the expected fare for the Tower of Animus.
[ SCENARIO A || FLOOR 75: OUTSIDE ]
[ Seated on the grass warmed by the clear weather on this floor outside the twenty-story tower, the Servant is busily pulling the slowily-cooling intestines out of a dead monster, its stomach slit wide open. Its throat is a ravaged mess. A few other organs laid spattered bloodily on the ground next to Avenger; two hearts (who knew some of them had extra hearts?), what looks to be the liver, maybe a section of the stomach? It could be an alien-looking kidney. It's hard to identify them correctly. His arms are bright red up to the elbows.
What he couldn't dig out with his hands and strength, he used his short swords to cut them up further and make the task easier to complete.
One or two lumps of maimed tendons and meat that might have once resembled the regular monsters themselves, are left nearby as well, given a similarly careless treatment.
Boredom is a strange thing, when paired with constant murderous urges that Angra is attempting to redirect away from fellow residents. At least he decided to do this in a corner of this floor far away from the stairs? Not that he's making any attempt to conceal this from prying eyes. He just likes the quiet between hunting down the Tower-generated creatures. ]
[ SCENARIO B || FLOOR 25: THE MEADOW ]
[ His eyes are closed and he's flopped over onto his side onto the soft grass with one side of his face pressed against the ground, under the cool, dark shade of one of the trees in the meadow. His thin shoulders rise and fall in sync with his even, slow breathing. Taking a nap in the evening was pointless; it wasn't like he required sleep or even food or housing. But he felt the desire to pretend at it, and since he had no reason other than his instinctive paranoia to not to leave himself open in any manner, he went along with it. Angra had never quite regained the knack to true semblance of slumber after his first life, only managing a light doze or total dreamless unconsciousness at the best.
His sleep was restless and shallow.
So when somebody's feet unexpectedly impacts with the embodiment of all evils' ribs and there's a sudden, unwanted weight tripping over him, it roused him easily. Wheezing at the knee that comes down into his stomach, he rolls over, hurriedly trying to push them off of his body and sputters in confusion. ]
—!!? Wha, wh—
[ Disoriented and groggy, Avenger still snaps to wakefulness speedily in a few moments with an irritated snarl of fury as he realizes what happened. ]
—Watching where you're fuckin' going... [ He spat out, a tick mark show showing on his forehead; ] is way too much trouble, huh! Idiot!
[ VERY RUDE. ]
[ SCENARIO C || DORMITORY LEVELS: POST-SPARRING ]
[ There was a line of old scrapes and redness along his knuckles where Saber whacked him if he'd gotten careless for even an instance while fighting her, a newer bruise on one cheekbone and what felt like a swollen knot blooming on the top of his head from a blow to the skull. Generally, he looked like he'd gone biking on a deserted road, collided head-on with a small truck and come out the worse off.
Of course, that was usually the normal result of his sparring matches with Arturia: 'Shirou' getting beaten up repeatedly and mercilessly for one or two hours, stop for the day, do it again later, rinse, wash, repeat. He'd improved, yes, to the point where he could block her attacks occasionally and even deflect them, but he couldn't avoid getting knocked out. In today's session, he tried going on the offensive for a short time before changing his mind and deciding the price paid in the strength of her blows was too much, and playing it defensively in a battle against the Servant would probably work best.
His body burned with pain. 'Shirou' , ignoring his body's complaints of fresh soreness, wipes the lingering sweat off his forehead with his arm, calming his breathing down. The discomfort he was currently in would fade soon enough. As if to spite him until then, a knife of minor pain stabbed abruptly him in the side. ]
... Ow—ouch, owch...
[ He winced and dropped his arm back down to his side. ]
[ SCENARIO D || 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.
He's not a picky sort of guy.
It's possible to find him sitting on tombstones in the cemetery staring at the fabrication of the skies on one floor, not mourning the dead just looking at the view, slinking through the sandy caverns on another floor, or walking over the farmland on one of the lower floors.
'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, bruises or no bruises. Business as usual here! ]
no subject
[Sephiroth says this all unemotionally. He doesn't mention himself, even if he does consider himself superior to other humans. He has no desire to supplant them.]
No, it is not hospitable. They have an interest in maintaining our discomfort, although it would be as easy for them to keep us in a pleasant environment. They have demonstrated their control over our surroundings, although their relationship to the monsters remains unclear. We are designed constructs containing souls. The monsters are not, but are they an uncontrolled factor?
It could be part of a test. Jason tests us regularly, and I believe everything we are exposed to may be part of an experiment. We are measured, monitored, controlled. Behavior is also tested. I am familiar with being placed in holographic simulations like this one to test my reactions.
no subject
[ Avenger rubs his nose thoughtlessly, leaving small streaks of red and grime from his bodily inspections of the creatures on his dark skin. It might not even be noticeable against the red-edged black lines that trace over his cheeks, his nose, his chin, his ears, down his neck.
This monster corpse is almost entirely dissected down to the gleam of its white bones and the sag of its bloodied skin, tufts of fur and claws left over. It's a nasty-looking lump with no organs which were dumped beside it onto the ground. Flies hadn't started buzzing around it like the other bodies, but they will soon. ]
You've given this a lot of thought. Then again, you are the type to do that. [ He presses one hand against the ground, wiping the other hand off on his red cloak. ]
Mm, something akin to that Glamour System, right?
no subject
[Sephiroth is curious, tilting his head slightly to one side.]
Yes, I have been thinking a great deal about the monsters and studying them while killing them. It is an ideal opportunity for research, yet there are no tools to obtain accurate data, so I must hypothesize.
It is like that. In my world, such virtual reality programs are ordinarily used to simulate battle scenarios, as they are controlled by the military.
no subject
[ Avenger waves one hand dismissively. Then he wipes off the other hand on his red cloak. ]
You're a right little ambitious scientist, aren't you? Research, research, research. Well, there's nothing amiss with making intelligent guesses at these things. I'd still say that child—Zo, he's got something to do with why the monsters show up. Whether or not they're under the administrators' thumbs, I dunno.
Oh boy... I can see why they'd use it for stuff like that. Say, you're on the small side for that. Were you grown in a test tube for testing purposes, or did some sad women pop ya' out?
no subject
[Sephiroth doesn't press further.]
I enjoy research. Yes, as Zo brings us here, that seems likely. But why does he bring only our souls when it seems that the monsters' bodies are also here? If we knew more about them, it could tell us more about this place and our role here. I wonder, if we were brought here differently, would we be monsters?
[Or, considering the fact that both of them are out here slaughtering without reason, they might be monsters already.]
I am already fully trained and combat-ready, as well as stronger, faster, and more resilient than the most capable typical soldier.
My mother's name was Jenova, and she died when I was born. [At least, this is what he was told, and he has no reason to disbelieve it. Too bad it's a complete lie.]
no subject
Mrm, what's your definition of 'monster?' Or well, which monster are you wondering 'bout? A monster in body, or a monster in acts? We have all done so many acts.
[ There's a pile of guts next to him, along with the other assorted pieces of dead creatures. Avenger picks up one slick, red rope of it and begins shredding it to pieces, slowly, deliberately, trying to wring what fun he could out of it. ]
Such useful perks to spring out of the womb with. Did they ever use you for anything other than fighting, soldier?
[ The Servant flicked a piece of intestine at Sephiroth. ]
Complications while giving birth then? Je-no-va... Jenny! A one-word name?
no subject
They are useful, yes. I am the ideal soldier.
We have monsters in my world similar to the ones here, although they are different varieties. They are ordinarily large, hostile creatures, distinguished from animals by their size and behavior. They can transform people into monsters here.
I was training for the army in the lab, but the lab was destroyed. When I awakened, the city was gone. Then I met Mr. Strife, and he took me to stay with Mr. Valentine, and I was no longer permitted to fight. Since I came here, I have done as I wish.
I do not know how or why she died, only that she died. Jenova is the only name I am aware of. I do not have a last name.
no subject
[ Having shredded one rope of gut to bits of intestines and gotten his fingers messier than they already were, Avenger got back up to his feet, straightening upright. The flies began to buzz closer. At one of Sephiroth's comments, he raised an eyebrow and whistled. ]
Gone? A whole city, gone? Wow, I'd say that's sorta impressive. [ And the lab had went and gone boom, before the kiddo had gotten picked up by this Strife character who'd dropped him on a guy named Valentine who sounded like he hadn't too terrible of a caretaker, who kept him from fighting. ]
Oh, bravo! You have a will of your own.
[ Then the Servant shrugged. ]
I have to say, it really sounds iffy to me. No files? No nothin'? Just a name? Humans in the modern era are obsessed with keeping records of boring shit like that.
no subject
I do not know exactly what happened, but there was a calamity in my world, while I was asleep. The capital city of Midgar was destroyed.
I do have a will. [He has a very strong will, unfortunately...]
There were files, but they were classified. I did not have access to them, and I do not know if they exist following the calamity. I cannot report what I do not know.
no subject
[ The flies, now that he has stepped away from the corpse, start settling down in ones and twos. He hums. ] A calamity? The thing 'bout calamities, they usually don't conveniently happen in capital cities if they're natural. But if ya' napped through it, I guess that explains shit like not knowing anything.
So do I, funnily enough.
[ But it's not his. Whatever. ]
Well, too bad then.
no subject
The calamity happened throughout the world. It did not just destroy Midgar, but Midgar was destroyed.
Yes, there is no way to know. [He pauses.]
Although I remember things... [He's still puzzled by the strange memories that had revealed himself to him.] I remember being an adult. But that is not possible.
no subject
Avenger regarded him quietly, smears of grime still sticking to his skin. He blinks at the new information about Sephiroth he'd been given. ]
Kiddo, don't be narrow-minded 'bout what's possible and what's not. That's dull. [ He chided lightly. ] If you remember being an adult, I'd say once ya' were an adult.
no subject
You believe it is possible I was once an adult?
[He pauses, thoughtfully.]
I was asleep for twenty years. That is, there are twenty years I do not remember.
no subject
[ He folds his arms. ]
Twenty years? Huh, and you still look like this tiny thing? [ That'd mean your aging was fucked with to start off, even if you weren't an adult at some point. ] That's plenty of time to grow up, do some stupid shit and end up a kid with memory issues... However the hell that happened.
[ 100.7% thinks that is a valid possibility since magi get up to some awfully dumb shit with ridiculous and/ore body horror-ish results. ]
no subject
I would like to regain my memories, if it is possible. Maybe then I would understand what happened.
[Probably not a good idea...]
There was a war. There was a fire.
no subject
[Avenger tilts his chin up, glancing up towards the sky before looking back down at him. ]
Funny how those things go together. Got any idea what came first?