towerofanimus | ☠ 008 | the cosmos cares nothing for us and our like

Entry tags:

☠ 008 | the cosmos cares nothing for us and our like

Characters: Avenger and OPEN to all.
Setting: Wildcard wanderings, the tenth floor, the twenty-fifth floor, and the fifth floor.
Format: Action spam would be preferred.
Summary: Coming off a short hiatus, Avenger kills time and avoids doing anything of value. And interacts with other people, somewhat unfortunately for them.
Warnings: All The Evils Of the World, that's it, that's the warning (also dead fish)

[ SCENARIO A || FLOOR 10: AQUARIUM ]

[ Angra has strange ways of amusing himself to pass the time, and it had been awhile since he'd gone to play with the fish.

The glassless tanks of water suspended in place contain a countless, teeming multitude of fish, all darting to and fro or drifting lazily through the blue and caustic light dappled the ground and the tiny black figure of the Servant in front of it rippling patterns. Schools of the fish swirled and dove in unison, faint light glimmering off their scale. Down further, people could be able to make out the distant blue shapes of larger marine creatures, much less harmless and much more deadly.

The Servant dipped his arm into the horizontal surface of the water, dozens of bubbles flying upward inside, and after several patient attempts, snagged a small fish. Pulling his dripping wet arm out of the aquarium, he inspected the fish that wiggled and squirmed in his grip, the curved lines of the gills flaring pointlessly for oxygen, and then calmly ripped it in half.

Once he was done with pulling the unfortunate fish apart, he would toss the bloody bits back into the aquarium so the carnivorous fish could have an easy meal. It wasn't like he himself felt any hunger for what he was killing. ]

[ SCENARIO B || FLOOR 25: MEADOW ]

[ The meadow is as warm and flowery as ever. But the bright atmosphere over in one corner of the grass expanse is kinda ruined by the usual strong taint that comes off the asshole lazing away from the stairs.

The Servant is sitting with his head down, in a reading position and seemingly engrossed with something in his hands. It's not a book he's preoccupied with: it's a picture puzzle, a simple, childish game with the picture broken up into 16 pieces, and one piece removed so the rest can be shuffled about like he is doing. It's something that had been in his trunk from the beginning of his stay in the Tower, and even if it's just a piece of stupid film, he still plays with it out of habit. ]

[ SCENARIO C || FLOOR 5: VIEWING STATION ]

[ Recently, Avenger often himself at a loss for things to do. Killing other residents like he wanted to was only appealing when the death actually stuck, and the distraction of killing the Tower creatures was rapidly beginning to grow. . . stale. And it took more effort than he was willing to bother with to come up with something new. He was getting trapped into a rut of boredom, restlessness, and the steadily increasing, itchy sense that he was slipping downward. Like he was enclosed in a cramped space much too small for him and it was slowly growing smaller and smaller every moment.

So he wandered aimlessly from floor to floor.

After spending an hour or two at one of the viewing stations, looking at the ruined wasteland of his dead world, you can catch him leaving the outer area and heading back towards the stair through the central security station. ]

[ SCENARIO D || ANYWHERE IN THE TOWER: YOUR PICK]

[ Generally, Angra wanders through an assortment of floors at night (or during the day) and shows little concern for which ones he ends up on as long as they are neither overly threatening or extreme. It's entirely possible to cross paths with him at some point. He's more likely to be met at night however. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Angra has an audience. Gilles is watching him, thoughtfully, as if through a veil of liquid, as one of the smaller portions of suspended water hangs between them. Once the torn fish is consigned to its watery grave, he moves forward, passing through the water without concern, uncaring as it wets his robes. He notices that Angra is a Servant, but he doesn't care about that.]

Is it enough?

Edited 2013-12-02 05:00 (UTC)

. . .

Hmm?

[ The presence of another Servant (new?) hadn't gone unnoticed either, but when it had made no move to interfere or bother him in his small entertainment, Avenger had ignored it entirely. It was the splashing noise, the wet slapping of fabric and shoes when that Servant finally approached that earned an idle glance over his shoulder at him.

His fingers still wet and dirty with bloody fish bits, he had to tilt his chin up since Gilles was one tall guy. His hand, that had been poised in purposeful waiting for the next fish, dropped and he pointed at the suspended water. Where the chunks of fish drift, its blood floating in lazy swirls around it, and other things with sharp teeth are starting to nip at it. ] Aha, this?

Yes, does it entertain you enough? Does it satisfy you?

[Like any Servant, Gilles is quick, and strong. He snatches a fish of his own out of the water, with one hand. He holds it for a moment in his hand, watching it slowly start to die. He cuts into it with a fingernail, cutting through scales and skin without creating a wound severe enough to kill, although the fish writhes in his hand, in pain.]

Or do you want more?

[ Avenger knits his bloody, wet hands together behind his back, watching Gilles torment a fish he caught in his hand without any real interest or any emotion besides mild bemusement on his face. Interrupting his fun? With frankness; ]

Nah. Measly gestures like this? Please.

[ There is nothing in this world or any of them that satisfies him. From the beginning, there wasn't enough. But Avenger does not say that. He shrugs casually, eying the dying fish. ] It's just for my amusement, nothing more, nothing less.

[ This Servant reminds him of a fish himself. A big, malformed one. ]

Edited 2013-12-03 02:40 (UTC)

[Gilles laughs, charmed by this.]

I thought not. Yes, it's nothing! It's truly incomparable to real pleasure!

[Gilles keeps the dying fish in his hand for the moment. Killing animals doesn't bring him any pleasure, although he used to like the hunt, but he's seeing what it's like to do this, mirroring Avenger's actions.]

It's not even amusing to me, truly, though I have been trying to amuse myself. What would satisfy you?

[Denied pleasure himself, he's interested in others' pleasures--well, if they're the kind of pleasures he finds relevant to his interests. He loves to see signs of violence, of chaos, in others.]

Being picky 'bout distractions meant to amuse kinda defeats the point of 'em. [ Avenger taps his foot a few times, before stilling it again. ]

Looking for some kids to roast on a wooden spit, eh? Would that be more to your taste?

[ His gaze strays from Gilles back to the wall of water, absent-mindedly watching it for any fish that could drift close enough to be in range to shoot out an arm to grab. The blue, watery light of the aquarium casts black, rippling patterns on both their faces and the floor. ]

Me . . . ? Haa, that's a really meaningless question by now.

[ Angra smiles. ]

Do you think so? Some things are amusing, and some are not. I dislike card games, but I like music.

I don't wish to cook them... ah, but do you know me?

[This is the comment that makes Gilles think he might be recognized.]

I don't kill children anymore.

[He continues to watch Avenger, then rips his fish in two. In spite of being separated, the two halves remain alive as Gilles preserves their life, or seeming life, and their pain, their writhing increasing, blood splattering.]

How is it meaningless, can you not be satisfied?

Know you?

Sorry, I ain't got a clue who you are besides the obvious. What, did you once kill lots of 'em? Oops. Sorry 'bout bringing it up~

[ The apology is clearly insincere. There is no recognition from Avenger. He is aware, now that he actually thinks about it, that this is the Caster from the Fourth War and of his status as a malicious spirit that didn't met the original rules of the Grail Wars that would only allow "good" Heroic Spirits to be summoned, but he doesn't really know what his true identity is. The joke about roasting kids on a spit was simply him being an asshole.

When Gilles declares he he no longer kills children, it earns a blink. ]

Well, that's a shame.

[ The world could always use some more dead human children, in his opinion.

The fish blood splatters down in a red puddle in front of Caster's wet feet. Avenger's gaze flickers back from the water to the impossibly squirming chunks of the fish. The other Servant's next question is greeted with a laugh. ]

Not really.

A

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

A

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

A; decided to get one last semi-sane thread in with Avenger after all

A; my god why are all of you going for the fish prompt

because FISH

you only want me for my fish IS THAT IT HUH

FISH OR GTFO

BYE THEN BITCH

/takes the fish and leaves

/CUTS YOU FROM PLURK BECAUSE HOW DARE YOU TAKE THE FISH

/ UVU DON'T FUCK WITH ME BITCH