αveɴɢer (アヴェンジャー) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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towerofanimus2013-07-14 12:04 pm
destructiveprinciple) wrote in towerofanimus2013-07-14 12:04 pm
☠ 005 | you said we were born with nothing
Characters: Avenger, 'Shirou' and OPEN to all.
Setting: The graveyard on the forty-eighth floor and the hundredth floor.
Format: The exact opposite of Kotomine Kirei's lovingly composed monologues.
Summary: 'Shirou,' on his way down to the cafeteria to do his regular job, comes across the evidence of Rin's departure, and also Archer's disappearance as well. He's not happy.
Warnings: Typical fare for the Tower of Animus such as mentions of death, the destruction of worlds, and sadness.
[ SCENARIO A || FLOOR 48: OUTSIDE ]
[ This was a floor of pointless mausoleums, open graves, and fields of unattended gravestones. Some of the names littered on the headstones he recognized and knew—llya, Sakura, himself. He came by here every morning on his way down to the cafeteria to see them, and that routine never varied. 'Shirou' didn't leave flowers at their graves; it seemed a paltry gesture for failure to keep them safe and well. So, normally he would stand there and talk a little about random things. Saber, the food being a lie, what information they had found out, a video game he'd played in the media room.
But when he came down this morning, there was an unexpected new name among the graves.
Matou Rin, carved into the stone like it meant nothing at all. Like it didn't mean the magus was now in terrible danger, from Ruana's power-sapping to supply the Tower now that the power cores were running out. Like it didn't mean there was now another girl roaming the desolate, destroyed land of the world she came from like so many others. Like it didn't mean another failure.
His knees suddenly seemed too weak to hold him up, and he sat down hard on his rear in front of the gravemarker, one small slab of stone with a polished surface and scratched edges in the lines of gravemarkers stretching out like small, gray pittances. Shirou sat there and rebuked himself, feeling hollow as he thought about Rin, wandering alone in the ruined landscape of her world. And also thought more angry thoughts about how he was going to make the administrators pay for this injustice.
And that's how any nearby passerby's will find the teenager. ]
[ SCENARIO B || FLOOR 100: THE HOLOGRAM ]
[ For those of you who don't give a shit about 'Shirou's little episode of upset—a Servant is slowly pacing about this floor, late within the depths of night. He seems to be vaguely confused.
His back is turned towards the staircase, his face turned away from it. It looks like he's trying to figure something out; ]
—Mm?
Setting: The graveyard on the forty-eighth floor and the hundredth floor.
Format: The exact opposite of Kotomine Kirei's lovingly composed monologues.
Summary: 'Shirou,' on his way down to the cafeteria to do his regular job, comes across the evidence of Rin's departure, and also Archer's disappearance as well. He's not happy.
Warnings: Typical fare for the Tower of Animus such as mentions of death, the destruction of worlds, and sadness.
[ SCENARIO A || FLOOR 48: OUTSIDE ]
[ This was a floor of pointless mausoleums, open graves, and fields of unattended gravestones. Some of the names littered on the headstones he recognized and knew—llya, Sakura, himself. He came by here every morning on his way down to the cafeteria to see them, and that routine never varied. 'Shirou' didn't leave flowers at their graves; it seemed a paltry gesture for failure to keep them safe and well. So, normally he would stand there and talk a little about random things. Saber, the food being a lie, what information they had found out, a video game he'd played in the media room.
But when he came down this morning, there was an unexpected new name among the graves.
Matou Rin, carved into the stone like it meant nothing at all. Like it didn't mean the magus was now in terrible danger, from Ruana's power-sapping to supply the Tower now that the power cores were running out. Like it didn't mean there was now another girl roaming the desolate, destroyed land of the world she came from like so many others. Like it didn't mean another failure.
His knees suddenly seemed too weak to hold him up, and he sat down hard on his rear in front of the gravemarker, one small slab of stone with a polished surface and scratched edges in the lines of gravemarkers stretching out like small, gray pittances. Shirou sat there and rebuked himself, feeling hollow as he thought about Rin, wandering alone in the ruined landscape of her world. And also thought more angry thoughts about how he was going to make the administrators pay for this injustice.
And that's how any nearby passerby's will find the teenager. ]
[ SCENARIO B || FLOOR 100: THE HOLOGRAM ]
[ For those of you who don't give a shit about 'Shirou's little episode of upset—a Servant is slowly pacing about this floor, late within the depths of night. He seems to be vaguely confused.
His back is turned towards the staircase, his face turned away from it. It looks like he's trying to figure something out; ]
—Mm?
1/2
He listened without comment, save for the occasional changes in the expressions on his tattooed face. It is someone else's story, but it's a story of condemnation, death and examples; to be made and regarded as evil so other people would appear good in comparison. All of that is familiar to Avenger. The boy had not murdered his younger sibling, true, yet to be frank that was only because he had never had the chance to.
And for a moment he just looks at him, the look in his eyes quiet; there's approval and encouragement there, approval for the rage Naoya is nursing against his God and how viscously he makes his case. He lacks pity, but there's empathy for this burden of misery he has been saddled with. (He'd been right in his first judgement of this human when they'd met: he'd carried that burden heavier than the other humans. And now another observation: he carried it, heavy with hate and bitterness, sour and dusty on his tongue.)
He's certain he's worked out who was once the Abel in this common, old story. A sheepherder. The best of what he had. And in this day and age, his cute little cousin. ]
Cain, huh? Cain, the bother of Abel and son of Eve. So that is your true name. [ A pause. A farmer, born in the older days, one of the first in his world. The first murderer in Biblical times. ] ... What a bloodthirsty, hollow God. So He cursed you for giving Him what He wanted and forced ya' to live endlessly with that mark, life after life? Geez, asshole. That's seriously idiotic.
[ Naoya's voice drops, quiets down as the man finishes his story. He nods his head after a second.
Religion is a weird motivation. Connection to evil must been severed for purity, or so they think. ]
People want a convenient scapegoat that they could blame for any disaster. That pattern has never changed, not once. [ He knows this is a gesture of trust in him; a Servant would never reveal even tidbits of their past to another unless they were displaying a little faith in the other person. ] People demand easily understandable evil to reassure themselves of their own goodness. That's how it goes with the human masses.