Zelda (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sageprincess) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-10-03 04:54 pm
sageprincess) wrote in towerofanimus2013-10-03 04:54 pm
Entry tags:
it's just another war
Characters: Zelda and the poor unfortunate souls that have to deal with her.
Setting: Dorm Floor 1, around the Tower, ending with Floor 25; backdated to October 1st
Format: Starting in action, will match.
Summary: Someone very important to the Princess has left the Tower. She tries to keep herself from swan diving off the handle with moderate success.
Warnings: Fighting monsters in the last prompt, general character instability and depression
Morning; outside Room 1-01
[The warm bath was all well and good, but after a week of being locked out of her dorm, what Zelda truly needed was sleep. And sleep she most definitely gets, even staying in a bit longer than usual in order to recuperate from the fatigue one is treated to when they fail to rest in their own bed for several days in a row. It's late morning by the time she emerges from her room to see if she can't catch the last few servings of breakfast.
That's when she notices a change in the nameplate of a familiar room.
She's been here long enough. She doesn't need to see the gravestone that has inevitably appeared on the forty-eighth floor to know what that means.
Her Hero is gone once more.
Time passes, and she seems to be unaware of it as she stands there, silent, a grim expression on her pale face, her hands clenched into white-knuckled, trembling fists. She stares at the nameplate for far longer than is necessary, seemingly lost to the world and anyone who might pass by.]
Throughout the day; various
[After recovering from the initial shock, the Princess slips back into the routine she had before the explosions with all the ease of someone who has been within these walls for far too long.
She can be found in the cafeteria at lunch (and, later, dinner), having been too late to catch breakfast. Distantly, she recognizes she should probably be more upset about having nothing but pumpkin to eat for the month again, but she cannot find the will for it, and so eats quietly and without complaint. Afterwards, she heads to the workshop where the green collar fluid research team has set up, once again helping with organization and data compilation, as is her role. When she has done as much as she is needed for (or is able to), she moves to the library to spend the rest of the day with a book she has likely read once or twice before.
No matter where she is, however, she is quieter than usual, and easily drifts off into her own little world. Her movements also reflect (or perhaps betray) how she is not all there today, seeming more like she's just going through the motions rather than with her usual focus and poise.]
Nightfall; Floor 25
[As evening approaches, she does not return to her room as she usually does, however. Instead, she retreats to the meadow just as its more sensible occupants are likely filing out, and waits, alone with her thoughts.
A dangerous thing, that.
She could have gone to the ninety-sixth floor, and wiped herself clean, letting blissful ignorance take the place of the loneliness she has come to despise so much. But she is Wisdom's child - such things are not fit for her - and she has been on the other side of that kind of amnesia, besides. She could have gone to the eighty-seventh floor, and let peaceful unconsciousness consume her. But such things are temporary, here, and she would only be back where she started, with an hour of sleep paralysis to do nothing but scream inside her own head and think about that which she does not want to. She could have gone to the forty-eighth floor, and quietly mourned over an empty grave. But what right does she have to such a thing when surrounded by the dozens, hundreds of names representing the souls she has damned?
What in Nayru's name has she been fighting for, anyway? She has seen the past and the future thanks to this wretched Tower. She has seen that even if by some miracle they restore the worlds, her country is still doomed and her soul is destined only to repeat this endless cycle of tragedy until the end of time.
"I will find you again. And again. Over and over, if I must, when the time is right. I will make sure things are set right. You are my friend, after all. I will not let you be alone any longer."
Has she been a fool all this time, to think that promise could be kept? To think that all the pain could be worth it, in the end? To think that maybe, just maybe, they could be more than what destiny had demanded of them?
The glamour sun sets, and she trembles with grief and anger begging to be released. Thankfully, in this instance, the Tower provides. The first wave of miniblins is quickly destroyed before they can even draw close in a wide arc of sacred flame, stronger than is necessary for such a weak mob and more encompassing than its wielder's precise style would typically demand. She flexes fingers that sparkle with magic, entire body faintly aglow with a divine aura as she, for once, allows the restraints on her emotions to fall.
She could have done many other things, but she is a princess, so if she must go down, she will at least go down fighting, even if she no longer knows why she is doing so.]
Setting: Dorm Floor 1, around the Tower, ending with Floor 25; backdated to October 1st
Format: Starting in action, will match.
Summary: Someone very important to the Princess has left the Tower. She tries to keep herself from swan diving off the handle with moderate success.
Warnings: Fighting monsters in the last prompt, general character instability and depression
Morning; outside Room 1-01
[The warm bath was all well and good, but after a week of being locked out of her dorm, what Zelda truly needed was sleep. And sleep she most definitely gets, even staying in a bit longer than usual in order to recuperate from the fatigue one is treated to when they fail to rest in their own bed for several days in a row. It's late morning by the time she emerges from her room to see if she can't catch the last few servings of breakfast.
That's when she notices a change in the nameplate of a familiar room.
| 1-01 Xion Sola-ui Nuadha-re Sophia-ri EMPTY EMPTY |
She's been here long enough. She doesn't need to see the gravestone that has inevitably appeared on the forty-eighth floor to know what that means.
Her Hero is gone once more.
Time passes, and she seems to be unaware of it as she stands there, silent, a grim expression on her pale face, her hands clenched into white-knuckled, trembling fists. She stares at the nameplate for far longer than is necessary, seemingly lost to the world and anyone who might pass by.]
Throughout the day; various
[After recovering from the initial shock, the Princess slips back into the routine she had before the explosions with all the ease of someone who has been within these walls for far too long.
She can be found in the cafeteria at lunch (and, later, dinner), having been too late to catch breakfast. Distantly, she recognizes she should probably be more upset about having nothing but pumpkin to eat for the month again, but she cannot find the will for it, and so eats quietly and without complaint. Afterwards, she heads to the workshop where the green collar fluid research team has set up, once again helping with organization and data compilation, as is her role. When she has done as much as she is needed for (or is able to), she moves to the library to spend the rest of the day with a book she has likely read once or twice before.
No matter where she is, however, she is quieter than usual, and easily drifts off into her own little world. Her movements also reflect (or perhaps betray) how she is not all there today, seeming more like she's just going through the motions rather than with her usual focus and poise.]
Nightfall; Floor 25
[As evening approaches, she does not return to her room as she usually does, however. Instead, she retreats to the meadow just as its more sensible occupants are likely filing out, and waits, alone with her thoughts.
A dangerous thing, that.
She could have gone to the ninety-sixth floor, and wiped herself clean, letting blissful ignorance take the place of the loneliness she has come to despise so much. But she is Wisdom's child - such things are not fit for her - and she has been on the other side of that kind of amnesia, besides. She could have gone to the eighty-seventh floor, and let peaceful unconsciousness consume her. But such things are temporary, here, and she would only be back where she started, with an hour of sleep paralysis to do nothing but scream inside her own head and think about that which she does not want to. She could have gone to the forty-eighth floor, and quietly mourned over an empty grave. But what right does she have to such a thing when surrounded by the dozens, hundreds of names representing the souls she has damned?
What in Nayru's name has she been fighting for, anyway? She has seen the past and the future thanks to this wretched Tower. She has seen that even if by some miracle they restore the worlds, her country is still doomed and her soul is destined only to repeat this endless cycle of tragedy until the end of time.
"I will find you again. And again. Over and over, if I must, when the time is right. I will make sure things are set right. You are my friend, after all. I will not let you be alone any longer."
Has she been a fool all this time, to think that promise could be kept? To think that all the pain could be worth it, in the end? To think that maybe, just maybe, they could be more than what destiny had demanded of them?
The glamour sun sets, and she trembles with grief and anger begging to be released. Thankfully, in this instance, the Tower provides. The first wave of miniblins is quickly destroyed before they can even draw close in a wide arc of sacred flame, stronger than is necessary for such a weak mob and more encompassing than its wielder's precise style would typically demand. She flexes fingers that sparkle with magic, entire body faintly aglow with a divine aura as she, for once, allows the restraints on her emotions to fall.
She could have done many other things, but she is a princess, so if she must go down, she will at least go down fighting, even if she no longer knows why she is doing so.]
no subject
One can only imagine. To gather so many people in one place would create strange alliances and strong camaraderie. How better to weaken the resolve of those within than to sunder those bonds? Dare I ask if there is nothing to be done, then?
so sorry for how late this is, writer's block sucks
[But, again, her words lack true conviction. It's almost like she's simply repeating something she's said time and time again.]
no worries, I'm late too, work has been killing me lately
I would dearly love to learn more about these things... with everything so fake, the reality behind the curtain is far more appealing than the trappings of this planned life.
stupid things getting in the way of pretendy funtimes
[Though there are a lot of those who are new compared to her.]
Currently, research is being done on the fluid they filter into our necks every two weeks. [An idle tap on her own indigo collar.] Unfortunately, I am not the best person to ask about details regarding it. If you wish to know more, seek out a man named Doctor Brown.
Aside from that... [She gestures to an empty chair nearby.] I can attempt to answer any questions you might have. Though I must warn you that "the reality behind the curtain" is not the most pleasant thing.
[But it gets her mind off of her own personal troubles, and for now that's enough for her.]
no subject
[He shakes his head a little. That's why he'd come here, that's why he did what he did to learn more about each floor.]
Perhaps I may. It would be nice to have something to do. I'm always up for a bit of research. Finding results is most satisfying. [Even if he has no backing in formal science. He's not afraid to do anything, really.]
I've had people explain to me the "reality" of our situation, as false as it is. What I lack is what is denied, more history of this place, of what has transpired, of what is being done or not being done about it. If we are trapped here, why should we simply sit still? There must be a flaw in this grand illusion... all it would take is to push too hard and it would all come down.
no subject
[Hardly something you could call "sitting still." Yet despite such an accomplishment, despite the glamour failure being the first real strike against the administrators, she doesn't speak of it with pride. The screams and cries she heard that day still haunt her even now.]
Pushing at the flaws is the easy part. Finding them and learning how and where to push? That is a far more difficult task.
no subject
[He seems almost delighted. I'm so sorry, Zelda.]
How fascinating. I'd quite like to ask more questions, as all I've heard about is the fallout rather than the actual process...
As far as flaws go, I've been attempting to find them as I go. A little hard work never hurt anyone. A lot of hard work is the best way to keep going when things get dull.
no subject
It was because of the departed administrator we were able to get the resources for such a feat. I do not know how much you have heard of Dax, but there is no doubt he was the most... empathetic to our plight. Hard work is well and good, but in the end we are still strangers to this world. I doubt we would have even half the information we do now to work with if it were not for having an ally on the inside.
[Of course, they still have an ally on the inside, but her lips are firmly sealed on that matter.]
no subject
[Enough at least for others to play around with.]
I'm quite content to build my knowledge from throwing myself into things. It seems to gather the most information. How much is useful, given the false state of existence here, remains to be seen...
no subject
[Says the girl who threw herself down an elevator shaft--]
no subject
Oh, I shall. Most people are content to sit on what they know. I highly doubt you will give me the information I truly desire... no one will. I'll have to find things myself, and dirty my own hands and who knows, potentially damn us all in the getting.
[Then a pause, and his expression returns to neutral.]
I am not certain what more to ask you. I suppose, if one wishes to find the truth, what direction is the best to start in?