towerofanimus | have you ever tasted fear or loss of control

Entry tags:

have you ever tasted fear or loss of control

Characters: Mao and YOU YOU YOU
Setting: Dorms near room 1-04
Format: I'll match you
Summary: Mao returns to the tower in perfect mental health.
Warnings: Very angry creeper warning

It wasn’t like he minded being out of that godforsaken place. For all the things this tower had done to him, walking around the ruined hallways of Evil Academy? That was a billion times worse. In fact, when he woke up with paralysis throughout his body, it was almost… welcomed? Almost. His mind really wasn’t working that well at the moment. In its defense, though, it had taken a lot of abuse.

The memories were fuzzy, but they were for the most part accurate. The paralysis wore off after a short while, and then he was welcome to get up and explore the room, which at the moment was empty. After changing out of that stupid outfit and into his regular clothes, Mao unloaded his trunk, as he had done last time, and left the anime, games, and comics strewn about the room, once again as he had done last time. There were considerably less of them this time, though. He distributed the ‘Demon’s Handbook’ onto the three other beds, with a sticky note on them that read “REQUIRED READING” in thick red marker. He hung his assorted weapons and torture devices on the wall. It was all terribly familiar, because he had done it all before.

Once he was done redecorating the room to his liking, Mao sat on the bed and stared at the door for a moment. He thought briefly and flittingly that he would need to find a place to put all of his supplies; hopefully the tower had come up with a suitable lab area in his absence.

A second later, he was screaming like a madman and punching the door furiously. He probably got a fist through there.

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Pure, animalistic screams of unadulterated rage? Eh, those were old hat to Fran.

The sudden fist punching a hole through the door she was passing by was an interesting twist, however.

...Oh. He actually got through. Oops.

Mao got in one more yell, which quickly descended into a very teenager-ish groan. He just... kind of needed to get that out. Yep.

The door, despite having a hole through it, remained steady. However, the hole was large enough that Fran could look through and behold the geeky demon who did this to the poor wood.

Some moments after that freakout started, the door will be pulled open, and a not-pleased-looking man stands there, peering down at Mao.

"You are obnoxiously loud."

Well. That door is made of some admirable stuff. But Fran can't help but wonder if the person who attacked it's hand was made quite so admirably~?

"You're not hurt, are you~?"

She gets a decent glance at the door's aggressor, and they seem about par for the course for what she's seen in this tower so far. A teenager with a good dye job and pointy ears isn't much compared to parasite arms and robots and what have you.

He's...actually rather used to people screaming at him. More in a slightly insane "I'm gonna get you" way, but nonetheless used to it, given the slightly madman-like nature of the voice he hears. Soul peeks out of his room, keeping close to the door as he looked down the hallway.

“Yeah, so?” Mao is practically radiating cocky teenager-ness. He’s still panting heavily, though, which reduces the impact somewhat. “I can do… whatever I want!”

No, it really isn’t, but he’s got plenty of those if you’re interested.

“No, of course not!” Mao needs a moment to catch his breath after the sudden fit of psycho-rage, but he’s soon back to his normal, ridiculous self. “I would never be harmed by something as weak as punching through a wall!” He’s punched through plenty of walls in his time, mind you. Though he really does prefer explosives; saves you the trouble of finding a minion to cast a healing spell.

The door now stood with a sizable hole in the middle of it… and a moment later, when Mao actively tried to open it, the whole thing looked on the verge of falling apart as it creaked open. Scoffing at the wimpiness of the door (honestly, shoddy construction like that wouldn’t last a day in his world), Mao walked through it, looking around with his hands on his hips. The place looked pretty much exactly the same as he remembered it, with a few odd pieces of tape attached to the wall, as if posters had been quickly ripped off. It was, in a word…

“…Lame!”

"It would be wise to not do things that can irritate those of us stuck here with you, child." As much as Mao's giving off cocky teenager vibe, Protoman counters it with icy condescension.

Aw. She'd been rearing to repair the remnants of the delicate finger bones that had surely been shattered after that door-punch. But Mao's hand just had to be structurally sound.

"Oh, I see. Is punching through walls one of your regular habits, then? Or is this a special occasion."

“Of course not! Normally I would use a sword.” Mao folds his arms and huffs indignantly. Swords are vastly superior to bare fists, of course, though that was only because he had a pretty shoddy ranking in hand-to-hand combat.

“Don’t make me laugh! You’re not a threat to me!” You now know that Mao is making total shit up. This is exemplified by the fact that if he was so high and poweful, he wouldn’t have been dragged off here in the first place… again.

"My mistake~~."

Because there is a world of difference between aggrieving doors with fists regularly versus using swords instead!

Fran retrieves one of the dislodged bits of the door, and looks it over. Appears to be a completely normal specimen of its material. She can't see the faces of the damned in the grain of the wood. Well, it's nice to know the doors here are normal. Dependable ol' doors.

There are no words from Protoman to start - he simply moves his arm, breaking the door off its hinges, tossing it away behind him. It clatters in the hallway floor as he peers down at the smaller fellow.

“Whoa!” Mao pretty much jumped back when the person wrenched the door, but fortunately, he is a very acrobatic little bugger. So he had shortly bounded across the room, taken down his favorite sword from the wall, and was ready for action – smiling like a maniac. “Mwahahaha! Didn’t I just get done telling you that you can’t defeat me?” Never mind that Protoman didn’t even say anything about defeating him at all.

Oh, good! There weren’t very many people who really understood the fine points of swords as compared to fists. They were easier, but never got you out in a pinch. Mao hadn’t found very many people with ‘sensibilities’ like that.

The door creaked open of its own volition then, leaving Mao to take his first look at the girl on the other side… and his eyes immediately lit up. (Fran, now would be a great time to run for your life.) “Ehehe…” A truly demented grin was washing over his face, focusing mostly on the many stitches across Fran’s body. “Why… whatever happened to your skin? Did someone… sew it up?”

He’s drooling.

Get equipped with: Helmet!

He speaks as he dons the thing. "No, you stated that I was not a threat to you," he answers, huffing slightly. This one was a stubborn one, it seemed. Protoman pulls his shield out, not yielding from his position.

“It’s the same thing!” Wow, what an idiot. No wonder he’s so pathetically weak. Hang on a second… that costume looked familiar…

“Wait a minute, I know you!” Mao’s grin quickly returns, and he erupts into laughter a moment later. “Mwahahaha! Of course! You’re Prism Red! Ahahaha, what are you doing here, loser?!”

Psst, Protoman – he’s mistaking you for a Power Ranger.

Romeo was walking down the coridoor when he heard the screams of rage, he ran towards them thinking that someone might need help!

"What's wrong?" His voice was concerned, because no one punched a door if something really bad hadn't happened.

That self preservation instinct was taking up too much space, she had to remove it in favor of more obscure surgical procedures!

..She's still rather off-put by the expression and the drooling, though. Might need a kerchief there buddy.

"Well, yes, someone did. I wouldn't get much use out of it in pieces, after all."

“Fascinating! Tell me more.” Protip, Fran: don’t do it. You’re only going to make things worse. Especially because, as he tends to do in this state, Mao has seemingly developed an extraordinary ability to catch the light on his glasses just so for Fran to be suddenly unable to see his eyes, but a fogged-over, glinting variant of it. Creeper McCreeperton, mayor of Creepytown, everyone.

“UUUUGH!” Mao catches the voice through the door, and it’s cause for another exasperated, guttural, teenage noise. “I’m stuck in this place again!” Of course he decides to vocalize only the smallest of his problems. Pain is a motivator, after all, and motivations are always to be kept secret! Unless you’re feeling very confident in yourself and the power of your hero. Everyone knew that villains who monologue are much more likely to be defeated.

"Again?" Romeo of course at hearing the anger of the man who was punching the door decided to move closer, because he sounded upset as well as angry. "Where you here before?"

“Yes, and I bet they still don’t have a place I can set up my lab!” Mao is seriously concerned by this. He’s seriously concerned by a lot of stupid things, though it’s usually the result of too much stuff in the Heart Bank and good old memory suppression.

"Your lab," he had never heard of that word before. "What is a lab sir? Can't you put it in your room?"

Mao puts his hands on his hips and scowls at the door. “No, fool! It’s much too small in here to set up a proper lab! Besides, there’s other people in here!”

He realizes his mistake a second too late. (Damn hero title!) Noticeably scrambling for a justification, even with just his voice, he adds on, “…They’re only going to get in the way!”

Ah, the classic creepy shiny glasses. How nostalgic. But now's no time for nostalgia, Fran! Now's a time for fending off creepers!

"Well, that's simply all there is to it. Skin's skin."

She is looking a tad disturbed. ..more than a tad. _{Is this guy into ill girls or something?}

“No! I mean, what were the details? How was your skin cut up like that? When? Tell me!”

Don’t worry, Fran, he’s not ‘into’ you… in the traditional sense, at least. He’s hilariously underinformed when it comes to such perverted things. But as you’re seeing now, he gets very, ahem, excited when he comes within rage of something or someone new to experiment on! Yep, it’s 100% good, clean decapitating, guns-for-kneecaps fun.

"It's been this way since my creation. It's how I was put together."

That was probably definitely the wrong information to give away, Fran.

Well, she can at least respect your purely scientific interest.

“Really! Ehehehehe.”

Yeah, Fran, that wasn’t the wisest decision. Because as soon as he has his lab up and running again, guess who’s going to be the first person to get revolvers implanted into their kneecaps? You, Fran. You.

"Really~." Yeah, after that laugh she's going to be moving awayyyyyy from Mao's doorway.

Fran thinks maybe your name would have to be Naomitsu for her to put up with that. Which it's not. Which means a distinct lack of gun knees are going to happen, but hey, maybe she can operate to take care of that nasty drooling habit of yours, Mao.

You would be surprised. It’s stuck with him through one and a half thousand years. Maybe it’ll… catch on.

He doesn’t even notice that she’s leaving, either. He doesn’t appear to notice anything, grinning at her with a terribly predatory look on his face.

So many revolvers. So many.

And she is outta here!

Romeo scowled right back. "I'm not a fool!" He had quickly learnt that there were lots of things in other worlds that didn't exist in his.

"Oh," well if it was too small in here... "There's lots of bigger rooms, where you could put it sir!"

"I need somewhere where no one is going to bother me!" There was nothing like that in this tower; everyone was able to go almost everywhere they wanted. Unless... (Mao's "evil mind" is turning right now, so he's gone suspiciously silent except for the occasional deranged chuckle.)

The chuckles were a little bit scary but Romeo didn't move away, he had promised himself he was going to be braver so he could fight the baddies.

"Well sir..." Because the scary sounds had reminded him of something, "There's some really scary floors here, that people don't like going to. So if you didn't mind scary noises your lab could go in one of them maybe?"

"Yes... brilliant! I'll barricade the entrances so that no one can get in! Yes!" There's a sound of heavy footsteps and some scrambling in the room, in reality Mao looking for a notebook to write this flash of evil genius on.

Romeo frowned, he didn't think baricading the enterances was a good idea. "People might still have to walk through, but mostly people run through quickly because the floors are scary." He watched the man run around looking for something.

"Do you need any help setting it up sir?"

"I don't care! They'll have to find their own way around!" Mao also did not care that there wasn't any other way around. Because, you know, he's Mao. Blocking the way with no other means of getting past him is the demon world's equivalent of community service. And to Romeo's second question: "No!"

"That's not very nice!" Romeo told him with a scowl, "There isn't another way unless they use the floating box, and that only stops in two places!"

"Well they have some way, don't they?" He doesn't care if they didn't have any way at all. This is his plan now.

"I guess... But couldn't you just leave a gap and block off the rest of the floor?" He feels a little bit bad for giving him this idea now.

I need as much room as I can get. [He says this matter-of-factly, like it should be the most obvious thing on the planet.]

Well it would only have to be a small gap! And the floors are really big!

Obviously you have no idea how much room is necessary to build a lab!

[Romeo shook his head, because that was true.] I don't even know what a lab is sir!

"Either way, it's still wrong - as is your assumption about my identity. My name is Protoman - not Prism Red." His tone is flat and not-amused. "Perhaps you are in need of stronger lenses."

"Whatever! You posers all look the same anyway." He crosses his arms and huffs. Mao simply refuses to believe that he is wrong in anything, even if it was just mistaking Protoman for the Netherworld's resident Power Rangers. And even if he really does need a new pair of glasses, because these ones have kind of taken a beating.

"Hmn." He steps back, away from the doorframe. "As I said before - keep the noise down." Because clearly getting the fellow to huff and shut up means he's been tamed.

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have you ever tasted fear or loss of control

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...just pretend that said 'door', not 'wall' (i r smart you gaiz)

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aye aye cap'n

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Unintentional creeper advances are go

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omg romeo please be quiet.

sob never

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