first chord: your messiah was never mine

[gloryseizing]

Characters: Van Grants and you poor unfortunate souls.
Setting: The cafeteria, the library, and the cathedral.
Format: I am equally comfortable doing either. I'll start with prose but will follow the format you reply with.
Summary: The Tower has pulled in another arrival from Auldrant. He doesn't seem too upset about being here.
Warnings: It's Van. He won't be outwardly hostile unless you're part of the Abyss party or are hostile to him first, but he can escalate things very quickly if need be.

Floor 001 Cafeteria.
Some people pitch a fit when they see the oatmeal. Some put off eating for as long as they can. Van takes neither course of action and simply brings his bowl to a table, sits down, and begins eating.

It isn't very tasteful, but he has had far worse. Most importantly, it's sustenance.

If he is to undertake the task of familiarizing himself with the Tower, then he must have energy. That means he must eat.

He has no hint of the air of a frightened new arrival with him, though the oatmeal clearly marks him as new. He doesn't seem to opposed to company, either. He meets people's eyes as they walk through the cafeteria and acknowledges them with a nod.

(There is no point in being dismissive of these people just yet. He might find some use for them.)

Floor 003 Library.
He isn't sure what he expects when he steps off the staircase. On the one hand, their hosts claimed to have rescued them. Their library, then, may contain useful information.

On the other, if the letters are a lie and this isn't as it seems, he can be assured that he will find absolutely nothing that is worthy of his time here.

There is only one way to find out. He walks through the library, examining the spines of books on as many shelves as he can find. Occasionally he strokes his goatee in thought, as if imagining how he may use some meaningless information in one book to combine it with meaningless information in another to create something meaningful.

Floor 013 Cathedral.
This cathedral pales in comparison to Daath.

He is at the back of the cathedral now and he could almost swear that he hears mumbling, though the place seems mostly empty. It seems to be coming from the front, and so he walks to the altar. His frown, only slight at first, deepens when he reaches the head of the cathedral and everything is silent.

He retreats to the back and hears the mumbling again.

"How very curious..."

Comments

[fionnuisce]

Not as such, no. Relatively speaking I've hardly been here long compared to some, but I believe it's definitely been several months.

[gloryseizing]

I see. Then whoever wrote those letters was serious about keeping us here.

[fionnuisce]

They're serious, certainly. Although the proverbial jury's still out over how long they will remain successful.

[gloryseizing]

Have they been having problems keeping everyone here?

[fionnuisce]

Aside from the matter of rebellion one might expect from shoving so many people into one place indefinitely, there does seem to be a tendency of people to outright vanish every so often. It seems to be a sudden and largely random list of instances, so good luck predicting it at all.

[gloryseizing]

Rebellion? Tch. [The surest sign of ineffectual leadership. What were these people thinking? Had they not planned for the inevitability of people not being happy with hearing about their worlds?] It sounds as though they are far from organized. How do they keep this tower running?

[fionnuisce]

Believe me, if I knew that it'd likely make getting out much easier. The administration's miserably organized and considerably psychotic.

[gloryseizing]

Hn. If that is so, it is only a matter of time before they fail so miserably that everything will come falling down around them.

[He would very much like to be present to see that.]

[fionnuisce]

You'd certainly think so. [Shrugging, Waver punctuated his remark with a vague sound of annoyance.]

Before we get much further, I don't think I caught your name.

[gloryseizing]

I am Commandant Van Grants of the Oracle Knights. [He raises an eyebrow.] And your name is?

[fionnuisce]

[Well, that sounded important. Although it was no organization Waver had ever heard of, the introduction earned a mildly interested eyebrow raise.]

Lord El-Melloi the second, Waver Velvet. [It seemed only appropriate to respond similarly.] Just call me Waver.

[gloryseizing]

[A lord? Van has had dealings with nobility; he inclines his head respectfully.]

You may call me Van.

[It is only polite to give Waver the same courtesy he has afforded him.]

[fionnuisce]

So, should I attempt to explain the general functioning of this place, or have you figured out any amount of it by now?

[gloryseizing]

What input you could provide would be appreciated. It is helpful to "compare notes," so to speak.