What to do when you lost your purpose

[culbutiri]

Characters: Nesir, Eva Beatrice, Ivan, Jade and everyone else who wants to meet a sightly crazy angry Nesir
Setting: Starts in the mailroom, floor five, floor fifty nine
Format: Either
Summary: Nesir recieves a gift and then fails at anger management, big time. 13th, 14th and 15th August
Warnings: *deep breath* Blood, gore, murder, torture, death, body parts in jars, shadows, madness, risk of injury, lots of words

[13th: Mailroom: Open] She almost didn't go to her mailbox, she could see others, in various stages of grief and anger and didn't want to know if whoever had decided to torture them had included her in their game.

Curious cats might get made into soup but it does not stop the curious nature of cats. She opened her mailbox and took out the jar.

She would not break down, not here and so she found some dark disused corner and stared at the hearts, she didn't know why or how she knew they were Ral's and Lotte's. All hearts looked the same, and it wasn't like she hadn't seen a human heart before.

But these were Ral, the awkward, infuriatingly kind boy who had befriended her when no one else would, who had taken on bullies for her. Who had gotten through all her defenses she had put up around her and proven that even if she hated the whole world she couldn't make the whole world hate her back.

And Lotte. Lotte who Nesir was sworn to. Her priestess even if they were both still training. Who Nesir would die for, a thousand times instead of letting anything happen to her.

Warriors aren't supposed to outlive their priestess Nesir jumped, she hadn't even noticed the shadow following her. And she hadn't expected it to speak with the old master of the training yards voice.

Warrior acolytes are definitely not supposed to outlive every priest and priestess in existence. His voice was cutting.

[13th: Floor five: Eva Beatrice] It had taken some searching, especially since Nesir didn't know what she was searching for. She was angry though, and wanted to fight. Not monsters, monsters didn't feel. Monsters didn't get angry, or sad. She didn't just want to fight she needed to hurt something.

Emotions were useless, emotions dragged you down but the emptiness held no comfort. Did she deserve comfort?

She spotted the woman at the viewfinder, she knew her, even if she had spoken to her only once she knew her kind. Nesir grinned, "Oh cake witch?" Her voice was mocking, "Do you be wanting a challenge, you do be looking bored."

[14th: Floor fifty nine: Ivan] Dying had not made her any calmer. Her eyes glinted as she lay in wait near the staircase of the torture chamber. She still held to her decision of a month or so ago, she had no body, no name, her friends and world were dead. All she had was her soul and that was not truly hers, it belonged to the god of darkness.

And so it was chaos she served, she watched as people moved up and down the staircase, until she spotted one who she figured she could take. She just had to hope they had no powers.

Maybe she should have chosen a powerless floor. But regardless she jumped up and attempted to grab the man and pull him into the room. Shadows swarmed around her.

[14th: Floor six: Open] A knife flew through the trees, aimed at a dear. Nesir let out a hollow laugh as the monster creature began to charge towards her. Killing had put her in a better mood, though not enough to be able to ignore the shadows that sat up the trees with her.

What kind of protector are you? It's your fault I'm dead, is killing creatures all you're good for? Why did you get to live, you don't deserve to live.

She threw another knife.

What is the use of saving a weapon, whilst letting those that can wield it die

To add insult to injury the glamour glitched showing her for what she was, wire and yellow liquid, she chuckled darkly.

[14th: Room 2-01: Jade] Nesir was covered in blood by the time she returned to her room, most of it was Ivan's. Her side of the room was still a mess from when she had left after the sleep paralysis had worn off that morning. She picked up the jar of hearts from among the covers and put it on the nightstand. Pride of place.

They probably expected her to get rid of it, expected her to hide from the pain. But no, let chaos rule, do what they don't expect. She flopped on her bed, not caring about the blood.

[15th: Beach level: Open] She had managed to sleep, which she was surprised about. But she had woken early, and made her way out, wandering the tower before anyone else woke up.

She ended up on the beach floor, she liked it here. Even if it was fake, but for a fake place for fake people it was a lot nicer than a lot of the floors.

The shadows had followed her of course, still taunting her, Lotte's voice, Kant's voice, Ral's voice. She sat by the water line, kicking off her shoes and letting the water splash over her feet. She hugged her knees, and tried to pretend she was alone.

Comments

;;

[culbutiri]

[You presume to keep the names we gave you girl? Elena's shadow spoke as Nesir looked round to Lancelot.

Yet you ignore us, doomed us.]

Lancelot [She notices the broach and is surprised that he still wears it] It has been being a while since I have been seeing you. [Since they killed together]

(apologies: out of town/family funeral)

[chevalier_mal_fet]

It has.
[He has his own Shadows. Weeping and Accusing, clinging to him stubbornly.
He is more used than most to the such company-- not that he is unaffected, for they do tire him.
The effect is merely muted.

Preferring not to tower over her, Lancelot drops to the sand beside Nesir.]

I am in your debt.

How do you fare?

<3

[culbutiri]

I do be being alright. [She tilted her head across to him and smiled as he sat next to her and the shadows backed off a little] You do be being batter company than these others.

[chevalier_mal_fet]

Aye-- of that I am sure. I do say the same of you.
[He returns her smile in miniature, and his own dim coterie distance themselves accordingly.]

You may speak to me of what they do whisper, if it will ease you. Or if not, tell me then why you came to this place?
It is a favorite haunt of mine.

[culbutiri]

[She shrugged] They do just be saying the usual, that I do be being a useless tool who should have been being destroyed instead of her masters. [She's so tired she doesn't even stop to think that if she were truly Nesir, the little warrior girl avenging her parents her shadows would say different things entirely.]

I do be liking the ocean, even if it do be being fake.

[chevalier_mal_fet]

[Lancelot looks out upon the Water. He notes the inconsistency with what he knows of Nesir in the girl's words, but lets it go out with the tide. He himself is a construct, a Living Memory made of perverse yearning. He feels no desire, nor does he consider himself fit, to sit in judgement.]
There may be beauty in what is False. As a boy, I was weaned on pretense-- there is meaning to be found even there.
The Water gives many gifts-- even though it is an illusion, the meaning it brings is real enough.

My own Shadows say that I am a Traitorous Murderer who Ruins all that comes to his Hand.
It is only the Truth, or A Truth-- and this I have heard many times before, even when I was yet Living. I am no stranger to Voices or Shadows.
[He gives her a subtle and swift look that is nearly a smile.]

You do not seem a useless Tool to me.

[culbutiri]

I do be guessing so, when everything do be being fake it might as well be being real. [She tilted her head, she couldn't argue against him being a traitorous murderer as she didn't know if he was or not, but she saw no issue with it if it were true.]

I do be thanking you, but they probably do be being right.

Verily, I Hath Returned.

[chevalier_mal_fet]

How is it they may be right? They are as likely sorcerous constructs of this Fell place, and not those beloved by you as they are Real.

[Lancelot gives a congenial sort of half-shrug. His own Shadows have moved to the periphery of his vision-- since he began to converse with Nesir Aeser. He does not believe this to be coincidence.
You have naught for which to thank me, Nesir Aeser. I accept you as you are-- as you do accept me. This much at least is True, even if all else here be False.

[culbutiri]

That do no be changing the facts of what they do be saying, they do be just saying it in such a way to be wounding. [She smiled though, not sure what to think of his words, acceptance was not something she had much experience in.] That do be being true...

[chevalier_mal_fet]

Aye, it is.
[He sits a while with her, watching the wash of the waves in silence before speaking again.]

Betimes I think that only Warriors, those who Serve and Fight for Others, are truly fit to Judge each other.

[culbutiri]

[Her eyes flickered over to him and she held her knees a little tighter] Yet the world do be judging anyways, like they do be having the right.

[chevalier_mal_fet]

Yet you know full well they may not. None may judge what is in the Heart of one who has Killed in Service-- save those who know the Way of it as well.
[He looks out to sea as he speaks, his eyes resting on the false horizon, the ghost of a smile on his lips.]
Therefore do not let their Judgements settle on you.
You are Nesir Aeser, and know yourself for what you are, and indeed can be no other.

It is no small thing.

[culbutiri]

[She winces a little at that, because she wasn't really Nesir Aeser at all. Just some nameless brat, but her shadows had departed and she forced such thoughts out of her mind.] I will be trying, you will be too, because no one do be having the right to be judging you either.

[chevalier_mal_fet]

I am judged by those I deem as worthy to judge me.

I am an Ancient and Bitter Thing, Nesir Aeser. I see more of you than you would have me see, as you see more of me than I would show.
So we Honor each other.

[culbutiri]

And I do be judging you fair and noble. [She felt calmer, the voices had faded, she fiddled with her hair, chasing strands of it to keep it off her face]

[chevalier_mal_fet]

[Indeed, for all it is only a Shadow, his own Heart feels lighter for the talking.]
I do judge you to be in need of a ribbon for your hair-- so I shall give you a length of my own.

[The length of scarlet ribbon he presses into Nesir's cupped-palm is more than sufficient for her hair-- but the length of his own ribbon seems mysteriously un-lessened.]

[culbutiri]

[Magical ribbon, somehow she is not surprised.] I do be thanking you. [She smiled and gathered the stray strands, tying her hair behind her head.]

[chevalier_mal_fet]

[Such is the Stuff that Dreams (and Nightmares, and Servants) are made on, Nesir Aeser.

I have no need of Thanks, but I will say that you are most Welcome.
[Lancelot is quite content to sit there in the quiet and watch the False Ocean with his odd choice in Friends. He will do this for some time, if allowed.]

[culbutiri]

[Nesir had no objections and she sat in silence watching the waves and Lancelot, happy enough to sit relaxed in his company, reaching up to touch her ribbon every now and again.]

[chevalier_mal_fet]

[ooc: ♥ See you at the Sleepover of Horror!]