Fon Master Ion (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fragileprophet) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-07-09 12:43 am
fragileprophet) wrote in towerofanimus2013-07-09 12:43 am
Entry tags:
the fourth - it messed me up
Characters: Ion, Anise, Jonouchi, and you!
Setting: Backdated to the 1st in room 1-16 and onward through the 19th in the Cathedral and all over the Tower.
Format: Starting with action, but I'll follow you!
Summary: An overdue June event aftermath post--Ion wakes up and remembers that he was the Screaming Monster, then tries to make up for it by searching for all of the individuals he owes an apology to. Also bonding with friends who are probably going to try and cheer up the sad replica.
Warnings: Nothing noteworthy! Just a lot of angst.
Room 1-16 – Backdated to the morning of July 1st
[Waking up in the Tower on the first day of July was unlike any day Ion had woken up before. And after a month of waking up on different floors, only being half-aware of having moved himself there in order to hide from the supposed monsters, he felt slow and frozen and not at all as rested as he should have been.
Of course, Ion didn’t have much time to dote upon his grogginess—didn’t need to. All the explanation he needed was hovering right in front of him, in violently large letters splattered in blood across the ceiling: MONSTER. And then the memories came spilling out from some locked corner of his brain. Night after night of screaming returned to him—night after night of feeling and inflicting fear.
There were so many residents he had stalked—so many he had overpowered and murdered without a second thought. Innocent lives, kind strangers (even one who pitied him and whose mercy he ignored) being ripped apart and bloodied. Ion remembered it all. He remembered every face, every word spoken, every scream and every cry…he remembered how it felt to kill them all. How satisfied it had made him. How utterly ravenous he had been. How little everything had mattered against his intense desire to kill.
Ion can’t make himself look away. He can only stare up at the ceiling and its red accusation in absolute, overwhelming horror. His eyes are wide, his face ghostly, limbs stiff and tense. And then, before he can stop himself, a scream bursts through his lips and pierces the quiet air. Ion brings shaking hands up to his mouth but he can’t stop the hysterics from coming. They lash out against the back of his fingers—muffled but fierce.
He was a monster. He hadn’t been able to stop himself and now he couldn’t even stop shaking or screaming. Maybe screaming was all he was capable of anymore.]
All around the Tower/Stairwell – Backdated to anytime between July 2nd and July 7th
[The first week of July had not been kind to Ion—though, to be fair, the heaviness in his sandaled footfalls can be blamed on no one other than himself. Try as he might, he can’t stop thinking about the things he had done in his time as a monster. True, the deaths hadn’t been permanent and it hadn’t been his own will, not really…but that didn’t change what he could remember feeling. It didn’t change that behind the grotesque black features, it had been him.
His powers had cursed people. He had done more than hurt people physically—he had made them do and see things that had taken advantage of their emotions. It was so wrong and against everything Ion believed in and tried to stand for.
It made him sick just thinking about it. And so…all he could do was feel sick, and shuffle onward in a haze. There was only one thing he could do—and that was to find the people he had pursued to whatever end and apologize. A simple sorry was the least he could offer, even if it didn’t count for much overall. It felt wrong to do so over the network. Of course…not knowing most of the individuals he had harmed during those long June nights would prove the task of tracking them down to be far from simple, but that was hardly a deterrent.
Ion was determined to find them, all of them, no matter how long it took. If he didn’t, he doubted he’d ever be able to find peace of mind. So he shuffles on, and searches the Tower floor by floor—skipping the wholly inhabitable and stopping frequently to rest.]
Media Room – Closed to Anise and Jonouchi
[Ion sighs as he lowers himself gently into one of the beanbags that litters the floor of the media room. He feels like he can just fall asleep at any second, his head and his heart are so troubled. Regardless, he doesn’t want to sulk. No matter how preoccupied he is or how terrible he may still feel…Ion owes it to Anise, if nobody else, to act like everything is fine. To be as much like the Fon Master as he can still manage to be.
That was why he had gone to the media room to meet his friends. If he was being honest, he didn’t feel like playing games. Ion didn’t even feel as if he deserved to play games, or socialize. But he’d smile and laugh and assure them that he was okay when he (clearly) wasn’t.
Even as he waited for Anise and Jonouchi to show up, Ion worked to practice that plastic smile of his. It felt so strange on his pallid face, now, as if he had almost forgotten the weight of it upon his lips.]
Cathedral (Floor 13) – Any morning before the 20th
[Ion can’t help but wonder how predictable he’s being when he steps off on the thirteenth floor and draws himself away from the doorway. This place is hardly a comfort, but it still feels more real than the Cathedral he sees on the 100th floor—the shallow imitation of Daath that stabs at his heart.
He only gets a few rows in before he slips into one of the aisles of pews and sits with a sigh. Ion closes his eyes, wraps his hands around his pendant (it’s so cold) and closes his eyes.
Yulia, he finds himself thinking, if you can hear me out there, somewhere, please give me strength. I fear I lack the will to keep my composure for much longer in this place.
His eyes still closed, Ion hunches forward, practically bringing his head to his knees as he clutches tighter at his symbol.
Please.]
Setting: Backdated to the 1st in room 1-16 and onward through the 19th in the Cathedral and all over the Tower.
Format: Starting with action, but I'll follow you!
Summary: An overdue June event aftermath post--Ion wakes up and remembers that he was the Screaming Monster, then tries to make up for it by searching for all of the individuals he owes an apology to. Also bonding with friends who are probably going to try and cheer up the sad replica.
Warnings: Nothing noteworthy! Just a lot of angst.
Room 1-16 – Backdated to the morning of July 1st
[Waking up in the Tower on the first day of July was unlike any day Ion had woken up before. And after a month of waking up on different floors, only being half-aware of having moved himself there in order to hide from the supposed monsters, he felt slow and frozen and not at all as rested as he should have been.
Of course, Ion didn’t have much time to dote upon his grogginess—didn’t need to. All the explanation he needed was hovering right in front of him, in violently large letters splattered in blood across the ceiling: MONSTER. And then the memories came spilling out from some locked corner of his brain. Night after night of screaming returned to him—night after night of feeling and inflicting fear.
There were so many residents he had stalked—so many he had overpowered and murdered without a second thought. Innocent lives, kind strangers (even one who pitied him and whose mercy he ignored) being ripped apart and bloodied. Ion remembered it all. He remembered every face, every word spoken, every scream and every cry…he remembered how it felt to kill them all. How satisfied it had made him. How utterly ravenous he had been. How little everything had mattered against his intense desire to kill.
Ion can’t make himself look away. He can only stare up at the ceiling and its red accusation in absolute, overwhelming horror. His eyes are wide, his face ghostly, limbs stiff and tense. And then, before he can stop himself, a scream bursts through his lips and pierces the quiet air. Ion brings shaking hands up to his mouth but he can’t stop the hysterics from coming. They lash out against the back of his fingers—muffled but fierce.
He was a monster. He hadn’t been able to stop himself and now he couldn’t even stop shaking or screaming. Maybe screaming was all he was capable of anymore.]
All around the Tower/Stairwell – Backdated to anytime between July 2nd and July 7th
[The first week of July had not been kind to Ion—though, to be fair, the heaviness in his sandaled footfalls can be blamed on no one other than himself. Try as he might, he can’t stop thinking about the things he had done in his time as a monster. True, the deaths hadn’t been permanent and it hadn’t been his own will, not really…but that didn’t change what he could remember feeling. It didn’t change that behind the grotesque black features, it had been him.
His powers had cursed people. He had done more than hurt people physically—he had made them do and see things that had taken advantage of their emotions. It was so wrong and against everything Ion believed in and tried to stand for.
It made him sick just thinking about it. And so…all he could do was feel sick, and shuffle onward in a haze. There was only one thing he could do—and that was to find the people he had pursued to whatever end and apologize. A simple sorry was the least he could offer, even if it didn’t count for much overall. It felt wrong to do so over the network. Of course…not knowing most of the individuals he had harmed during those long June nights would prove the task of tracking them down to be far from simple, but that was hardly a deterrent.
Ion was determined to find them, all of them, no matter how long it took. If he didn’t, he doubted he’d ever be able to find peace of mind. So he shuffles on, and searches the Tower floor by floor—skipping the wholly inhabitable and stopping frequently to rest.]
Media Room – Closed to Anise and Jonouchi
[Ion sighs as he lowers himself gently into one of the beanbags that litters the floor of the media room. He feels like he can just fall asleep at any second, his head and his heart are so troubled. Regardless, he doesn’t want to sulk. No matter how preoccupied he is or how terrible he may still feel…Ion owes it to Anise, if nobody else, to act like everything is fine. To be as much like the Fon Master as he can still manage to be.
That was why he had gone to the media room to meet his friends. If he was being honest, he didn’t feel like playing games. Ion didn’t even feel as if he deserved to play games, or socialize. But he’d smile and laugh and assure them that he was okay when he (clearly) wasn’t.
Even as he waited for Anise and Jonouchi to show up, Ion worked to practice that plastic smile of his. It felt so strange on his pallid face, now, as if he had almost forgotten the weight of it upon his lips.]
Cathedral (Floor 13) – Any morning before the 20th
[Ion can’t help but wonder how predictable he’s being when he steps off on the thirteenth floor and draws himself away from the doorway. This place is hardly a comfort, but it still feels more real than the Cathedral he sees on the 100th floor—the shallow imitation of Daath that stabs at his heart.
He only gets a few rows in before he slips into one of the aisles of pews and sits with a sigh. Ion closes his eyes, wraps his hands around his pendant (it’s so cold) and closes his eyes.
Yulia, he finds himself thinking, if you can hear me out there, somewhere, please give me strength. I fear I lack the will to keep my composure for much longer in this place.
His eyes still closed, Ion hunches forward, practically bringing his head to his knees as he clutches tighter at his symbol.
Please.]