towerofanimus | ♫ ONE ♫

Entry tags:

♫ ONE ♫

Characters: Soul and YOU.
Setting: Room 2-08 and surrounding dorm areas, floors 1, 28 and various other floors. Feel free to pick any floor you'd like. I will roll with anything you throw at me.
Format: action
Summary: Congratulations, tower! You are now plus one (1) Death Scythe! Have you seen his Meister?
Warnings: Accidental stabbings are going to be a thing.

► Room 2-08 | Dormitories | Various floors throughout the day ◄

[This wasn't Nevada. This was no where close to Nevada and if the letter by his bed was the real deal, apparently Nevada was no longer a thing. It was dust. It's a lot to swallow and he's hesitant to believe it without any further proof, but he is definitely unsettled.

After finding his belongings in his trunk, he quickly gets changed (seriously, that catsuit thing was just incredibly uncool) and sets out to explore his new surroundings.]

Maka's gotta be around here somewhere...

► Floor One ◄

[At first Soul figured the whole having to eat the oatmeal first thing was a bunch of crap. After he threw up his chicken nuggets he found that it really, really wasn't. Soul was hardly a picky eater, but this stuff was just gross.

He pokes at the sludge in his bowl, frowning.]

All right. Only a couple more bites and you're done, dude. You can do this.

► Floor Twenty-Eight ◄

[Now this was his kind of place. Instruments lined the walls, every kind of piano and keyboard was laid out in front of him. Acoustic, electric, and bass guitars were perched on stands and practically begging to be played.

He hits the piano first.

A sleek, black baby grand.

His fingers brush across the keys. He sits down and starts to play.]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[The soft footfalls come to a stop the moment she locates the source of the noise. Not an off-tune set of instruments playing of their own accord, but a boy. A person who lives in this tower.

Ellen stares at him, her expression as blank as ever. She stands there for a moment before taking a seat in a nearby chair, her hands folding over her lap as she waits for the performance to reach its end.]

Edited 2013-07-11 02:21 (UTC)

[It seems to be going for two people with the whole suddenly waking up thing. Only, Emil isn't making the same progress. He's still sitting in that ridiculous... thing that he knows isn't his own after having a brief moment of panic. He's so fortunate as to not having read the letters yet-- not even being aware of them. No, something else has been on his mind as so his eyes are screwed shut and to remain that way for the time being. Though there are many questions of where is he and where did he get the new neck accessory but he has to just sit and listen for a moment.]

A male... sixteen years old.

[The best way to make greetings, you see.]

[He sits there in silence once the piece ends, fingers resting gently on the keys as he listens to the last chord resonate. He wasn't expecting an audience, so he's a little surprised to see he has company once he lifts his head.]

Hey.

[Yes. Clearly this is the best way to say hello.]

Uh...

[What does he even say to that? What happened to good, old fashioned hello?]

Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you up, man.

[Forget that good old fashioned stuff, bro.

He kept his eyes closed and would reach out to lightly move his hands over where he has been sleeping. Well, it's a bed. Or so he thinks-- it feels like it but what the hell does he know? Emil furrows his brow slightly.]

No, it's fine, you didn't wake me. But who are you?

[It's then he turns his head slightly in the direction of where he has heard the voice. No need to panic, surely. He pauses when he feels some paper. It isn't the same feel of what research he has gotten of hold of as of recently. But Emil does bring the paper to himself without trying to crumple it.]

...And where is this?

Name's Soul. As for where we are, I don't really know. It's some kind of tower. At least that's what the letter said.

[He frowns a little, brow furrowing. Why wasn't this guy opening his eyes? Was he blind...?]

You need a hand there?

Tower? Is this what this paper is for.

[He lifts the paper a little further up.]

I'd actually would like to know what's written on here, please.

[With the one hand that isn't keeping itself busy with the letter, Emil gingerly touches an edge of the bed. He proceeds to move himself to the edge before swinging his legs over his bed to where his feet are touching the floor. And now to stand.]

Oh, I'm Emil.

Hello.

[She remains still, so much so that one might be able to mistake her for a particularly well crafted doll, though her eyes flick up as he greets her.]

What were you playing?

[There are few things in the tower that make Maka feel better than getting completely lost in a book. She can push everything that's bothering her to the back of her mind and just read.

(... A huge hand was reaching for him. The fingers curled around him, and his ribs snapped and cracked with a sound like burning cedar; his lungs filled with blood, and he choked it up...)

She's sitting at a desk, hunched over with the terrible posture she sometimes gets while reading intently, like she's trying to fall into the book.

(... The seat belt broke away from his body, and the car dropped away below him. He could see eyes - huge, golden eyes - the instant before he died.)

A flip of the page, the next chapter.]

Yeah, sure thing.

[He takes the paper from Emil and sits down on the edge of his bed as he skims it.]

It's pretty much the same thing I got. It says that our worlds have been destroyed and whoever brought us here did it to "save us".

Liszt . Transcendental Etude Number Eight. Have you heard it before?

[After searching for her all day, Soul had started to worry that maybe Maka wasn't here. It was an uncomfortable thought -- being in this weird tower without his partner. The relief he feels when he sees her hunched over at the desk with her nose in a book is nearly palpable.

Soul knows his Meister. He knows he could be standing right in front of her screaming in her face and she probably wouldn't look up from her book. Not when she was that invested in the story. So, he does the only thing that seems natural in this kind of situation.

He creeps up behind her and in one quick movement covers her eyes with his hands.]

Yo, Maka.

[It's almost with that he opens his eyes out of surprise. He only proceeds to shut them tighter, if possible.]

That can't be true.

[He turns his head in Soul's direction before moving away.]

I mean, a lot of things that are written can be true but you can't believe everything that you read can you?

[That only cues him to bump into something. Emil freezes but there are no consequences that follows and he's soon crouching over, running his hands over the sides of the chest that happens to be by the bed he woke up in. His hands when he feels there is some means of opening this...

So he gives it a pat.]

Is this yours?

[Maka yelps, thinking for a jumbled half-second of confused shock that the spectral dragon from her book has somehow grabbed her from behind. It's not a long moment of confusion, less time than it takes to think "the dragon!" but long enough for the flicker of transformation, two long curved gray-black scythe blades growing from underneath her shoulderblades and curving up over her head.

Then the voice actually registers, and she freezes.]

... Soul?

[She can't remember how to put her blades away.]

I didn't say I believed it, dude. I'm just reading what it says.

[He shakes his head again.]

Nah, that one's yours. There's four of them in here. Four beds, four trunks. Guess we have a couple of other roommates.

[Of all the things Soul expected to happen, he could easily say that getting stabbed by a pair of blades coming out of her shoulders was not one of them. It wasn't even on the list. Not even a thought.

He lets go fast enough to avoid one blade, but the other... not so much. It rips through his Spartoi uniform and sinks cleanly into his shoulder.

... At least the blade was sharp.]

Agh! Y-yeah. Yeah, it's me, damn it.

Why would someone write something like that, though...

[It's more of thinking aloud than expecting an answer as the two of them seem to be in the same situation. But he soon preoccupies himself with working the chest open.]

Roommates...?

[People who share a room, of course. But he hasn't actually had one of those and there isn't any definite feeling he has about it. It only gets Emil to deeply inhale before proceeding to open the chest. Emil reaches in to only feel some cloth-- clothes he's familiar with, even. The bit that's to receive the best greeting, however, is the rather long strip of bandage. He fumbles as he pulls it out of the chest and brings it up to wrap it around his eyes.

Thank goodness.]

To scare us. Try to get us thinking that whoever brought us here is on our side.

[He answers him anyway. It's a question he was asking himself.]

Yeah, two more by the looks of it. We're the only ones here right now though. I don't know who the other two beds belong to.

[Not as sharp as Soul's, honestly. She's still pretty new at this transformation thing. And being new at this means that she's panicking enough that she can't undo the transformation.]

I... I'm stuck.

[She can feel him on her blade. This isn't happening. This isn't real. Just another nightmare.]

Yep. You definitely are.

[He grits his teeth, trying to wrap his head around the fact that his Meister had suddenly sprouted blades.]

Just calm down. Close your eyes, take a deep breath and focus inward. Try and visualize it in your head.

[She shakes her head.]

Mmn. I've never heard anyone play it before.

I wonder...if we can find whoever wrote to us.

[And now he's going to just start getting dressed. Asking for privacy would be a bit much and even then it's not important.]

I'm guessing there must be other places to go off too. They might be busy or something. Maybe our roommates are people one of us knows.

[As, well, he's only finding himself hoping.]

[She closes her eyes and just breathes. Maka knows where her blades are. They need to be not there. Simple. Just breathe and put the blades away.

The scythe blades slip back inside her, metal seamlessly morphing into flesh and bone.

She has to turn around. But she doesn't want to. She doesn't know what she'll see if she looks at him. It's just another trick, just another illusion.]

[He grins, rubbing the back of his neck.]

I'm sorry I'm the first person you've heard play it. I'm pretty rusty.

[Regardless, Soul will turn away so the guy can get dressed.]

It's possible. I just woke up here, so I haven't had a chance to look around yet.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 3

♫ ONE ♫

floor twenty-eight

room 2-08

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Library

no subject

no subject

oh boy oh boy!

no subject

she's gonna show him her stabs~ (also bluh icons)

no subject

Maka that is so sweet of you. c:

no subject

no subject

as one of my former rp partners said "you don't show love with knives"

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject