αveɴɢer (アヴェンジャー) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
destructiveprinciple) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-12-01 07:53 am
destructiveprinciple) wrote in towerofanimus2013-12-01 07:53 am
☠ 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. ]
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. ]
no subject
[ That moved right from offhandedly insincere to cruelly sarcastic. But he's back to cheerful in a heartbeat. He unlaces his fingers apart from behind his back and waves a hand. ] 'course I do, didn't I just say so?
But a human with the proper sensibilities ain't gonna appreciate a murderer, no way. It's a no-brainer that you'd get hatred in return for that. Did ya' seriously think otherwise for even a second?
[ They are not the same, though they are both being that could be called "anti-heroes." In words that he would personally use, Avenger kills to live. He is a monster.
Caster is the sort who lives to kill. It is not a requirement for his survival. He nods. ]
I see! That type of thing. . . You have twisted tastes in satisfaction, eh? That's nice.
Despair? Pure? Haa. . . [ He clicks his tongue, staring at the fish, still wiggling about pieces. He has to agree there. But Angra kills for amusement, not because he wants to give his kills depth or richness or color. Indifferently; ] You talk like inducing suffering needs to be an art.