Zelgadis Greywords (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nobarnacles) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-07-06 10:15 pm
nobarnacles) wrote in towerofanimus2013-07-06 10:15 pm
01
Characters: Zelgadis and you!
Setting: Room 1-6, or elsewhere in the dorms
Format: I'll reciprocate whichever
Summary: Zel wakes up
Warnings: Zelgagrumping
This wasn't what Zelgadis expected would happen when he woke up. In fact, even the waking up part was a jolt; he still has a spell about to be released in the back of his mind, and he remembers that he was falling, like he tripped over a rock or something, but it doesn't make any sense that he would suddenly be in a place like this.
For a few moments, he strains to move, or yell, or cast a spell, or anything, but nothing happens, as if there just wasn't a connection between his mind and his body. It occurs to him that maybe he did actually die in battle, and he stops flailing at his unresponsive limbs so he can instead try to think a little bit about what all of this means. It doesn't take long for him to notice that he can move again, though, and with the quiet repose of a man who has accepted his own death, he calmly sits up and looks around the room. It's quaint, really, if a bit melodramatically gloomy.
Then he finds the notes, and shortly afterwards, the collar around his neck, and his calm mood drops all the way as far down as the tower goes. He hastily flips through the contents of his trunk, the laughable representation of the world he was plucked from, and grabs his sword. The familiar weight of it sitting around his hips is just one more sensory input in this rapidly solidifying consciousness, and he storms into the hallway with a renewed energy. He's pretty tired of getting jerked around.
"What the hell is going on here?!"
He's not expecting magical answers to drop out of the walls, but shouting lets off a little bit of steam.
Setting: Room 1-6, or elsewhere in the dorms
Format: I'll reciprocate whichever
Summary: Zel wakes up
Warnings: Zelgagrumping
This wasn't what Zelgadis expected would happen when he woke up. In fact, even the waking up part was a jolt; he still has a spell about to be released in the back of his mind, and he remembers that he was falling, like he tripped over a rock or something, but it doesn't make any sense that he would suddenly be in a place like this.
For a few moments, he strains to move, or yell, or cast a spell, or anything, but nothing happens, as if there just wasn't a connection between his mind and his body. It occurs to him that maybe he did actually die in battle, and he stops flailing at his unresponsive limbs so he can instead try to think a little bit about what all of this means. It doesn't take long for him to notice that he can move again, though, and with the quiet repose of a man who has accepted his own death, he calmly sits up and looks around the room. It's quaint, really, if a bit melodramatically gloomy.
Then he finds the notes, and shortly afterwards, the collar around his neck, and his calm mood drops all the way as far down as the tower goes. He hastily flips through the contents of his trunk, the laughable representation of the world he was plucked from, and grabs his sword. The familiar weight of it sitting around his hips is just one more sensory input in this rapidly solidifying consciousness, and he storms into the hallway with a renewed energy. He's pretty tired of getting jerked around.
"What the hell is going on here?!"
He's not expecting magical answers to drop out of the walls, but shouting lets off a little bit of steam.