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towerofanimus2011-10-27 02:05 pm
lethechained.livejournal.com) wrote in towerofanimus2011-10-27 02:05 pm
Entry tags:
Breakfast With a Side of Hopelessness
Characters: Naminé (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lethechained)
Setting: Floor 1, the cafeteria
Format: Starting this way, will match.
Summary: Naminé's been spending most of the event trying to fight the experiment effects, but it looks like it's a battle she's losing. (Attempting to fight transition to Stage 3.)
Warnings: Angst, hopelessness, lethargy. She's still got enough of a handle on herself to not try to kill most surgical experiment victims, although the more she likes them the more likely she is to suggest an... er, solution to their predicament, but most likely will not actually act on anything unless they agree to it. Hence, possible mentions of suicide or character death.
In all of her short, short lifetime, she had never felt like this.
Third time's the charm, they said, and whether that applied to her third captivity or her third life, it fit. Even though from the beginning she'd recognized these abnormal feelings as foreign and likely related to those notes she'd received, and she'd fought so valiantly for so long, she couldn't deny that they did make sense. That hopelessness... it was the correct way to feel. It was the truth - what chance did they stand of finding a way out, especially with such powerful captors? She'd spent all of her life in cages. The only thing that ever changed was just that those cages had gotten progressively bigger. What could have ever made her think that one day the door would be open? Almost everyone else seemed to have hope, and for so long she'd tried to encourage that in them and in herself, but now... now, she realized how futile it was, how cruel it had been of her to do such a thing. It had been cruel to try to make friends, too, when they didn't even know what she was or what that meant.
Her breakfast sat unfinished next to her on the table. She regarded it silently as she mused, body slumped in her seat in sharp contrast to her usually stiff posture and her head resting on the table, turned only far enough for her to eye the breakfast she'd only barely managed to force herself to fetch in the first place, and then only because her last meal had been breakfast the day before and her stomach would not have it any other way. It was pointless, of course, but the small part of her that was still urging her to fight this sensation had been most insistent, and hunger, at least, she could do something about. It had taken her a long time to convince herself of even that. (After all, if the food was poisoned, it wouldn't make any difference, anyway. If they wanted her to eat poisoned food, they could make her do it and she wouldn't be able to resist.)
Her grief was quiet, and though it was for them, it seemed poor assistance for everyone here, for everyone else who might be (probably was) dead, for anyone that might still find their way here.
lethechained)Setting: Floor 1, the cafeteria
Format: Starting this way, will match.
Summary: Naminé's been spending most of the event trying to fight the experiment effects, but it looks like it's a battle she's losing. (Attempting to fight transition to Stage 3.)
Warnings: Angst, hopelessness, lethargy. She's still got enough of a handle on herself to not try to kill most surgical experiment victims, although the more she likes them the more likely she is to suggest an... er, solution to their predicament, but most likely will not actually act on anything unless they agree to it. Hence, possible mentions of suicide or character death.
In all of her short, short lifetime, she had never felt like this.
Third time's the charm, they said, and whether that applied to her third captivity or her third life, it fit. Even though from the beginning she'd recognized these abnormal feelings as foreign and likely related to those notes she'd received, and she'd fought so valiantly for so long, she couldn't deny that they did make sense. That hopelessness... it was the correct way to feel. It was the truth - what chance did they stand of finding a way out, especially with such powerful captors? She'd spent all of her life in cages. The only thing that ever changed was just that those cages had gotten progressively bigger. What could have ever made her think that one day the door would be open? Almost everyone else seemed to have hope, and for so long she'd tried to encourage that in them and in herself, but now... now, she realized how futile it was, how cruel it had been of her to do such a thing. It had been cruel to try to make friends, too, when they didn't even know what she was or what that meant.
Her breakfast sat unfinished next to her on the table. She regarded it silently as she mused, body slumped in her seat in sharp contrast to her usually stiff posture and her head resting on the table, turned only far enough for her to eye the breakfast she'd only barely managed to force herself to fetch in the first place, and then only because her last meal had been breakfast the day before and her stomach would not have it any other way. It was pointless, of course, but the small part of her that was still urging her to fight this sensation had been most insistent, and hunger, at least, she could do something about. It had taken her a long time to convince herself of even that. (After all, if the food was poisoned, it wouldn't make any difference, anyway. If they wanted her to eat poisoned food, they could make her do it and she wouldn't be able to resist.)
Her grief was quiet, and though it was for them, it seemed poor assistance for everyone here, for everyone else who might be (probably was) dead, for anyone that might still find their way here.
no subject
That wasn't something she really wanted to think about. "I'm in Room 1-07," she went on, "If you ever need to find me. I'm in the libraries a lot, too." She almost instantly regretted telling Naminé her room number, as she was hit with a flood of possibilities ranging from an attack in her sleep to an ambush by an eavesdropper. She'd just have to put some enchantments around her bed. She wouldn't have anything to worry about if Naminé was truly harmless.
no subject
1-07. Namié nodded and was careful to remember that, as she was with all information provided to her. There was little hesitation before Naminé responded with her own room number; to wait and use that information for something seemed... to her, at least, a bit too underhanded for someone like Aqua, and Naminé was quick to remind herself that any retribution she might face even if such a plan was enacted would probably be deserved. There was nothing to fear, anyway, not when death was so transient (as was safety) in the tower. "I'm in Room 1-15." A pause, during which she felt as if she should add something more, as Aqua had, then, "I... go to a lot of different parts of the tower." Not that that was helpful, but it was true; when Naminé spent time outside her room, it was often in a variety of places.