gleamingly: (♪ play guitar and knit and cook)
rapunzel. ([personal profile] gleamingly) wrote in [community profile] towerofanimus2014-03-07 02:26 pm

first song ♪ not quite the beginning she wanted.

Characters: Rapunzel ([personal profile] gleamingly) and you!
Setting: Room 1-01, floor three, floor six, and floor twenty-two.
Format: I'm starting with prose, but I'll match you.
Summary: Rapunzel wakes up in the Tower of Animus after an argument with her mother. Worst time-out ever.
Warnings: Nothing so far.

Room 1-01.
When Rapunzel wakes, it is with a start, and it is not because it's too loud. Rather, it's because there is a distinct lack of noise. Where is the rustling of the leaves in the trees, the chirping of the birds, the (rather obnoxious and unattractive) snoring of her (ridiculously attractive) traveling companion? She remembers the argument with her mother and her heart nearly drops into her stomach. Had she been brought home?

A look around the room answers that question. No, she hadn't, but she also isn't in the woods on her way to see the floating lanterns. She is also not wearing her dress, and -

Are those other beds? She gasps and pulls her covers up over herself, self-conscious about the strange white jumpsuit she's found herself in, before peeking out.

"Who... who's there?" She calls out shakily. "If someone else is in this room, tell me now...!"

Floor Three.
She has never seen so many books in her entire life. It is all she can do not to drop her mass of hair and run among the shelves to find something to read; instead she keeps her long hair gathered up in her arms and steps off the staircase so that she can explore the library at a brisk pace.

If she had something like this in her tower, it would have been so difficult to get bored.

One might find her peering curiously at a book with pictures of automobiles, or with two novels in a trilogy resting on the frying pan and the pile of hair in her arms while she rushes about looking for the third, or maybe even eyeing a book perched precariously on the top of a shelf as she twirls her hair like a lasso and throws it to pull it down.

Floor Six.
Anyone passing by the forest floor may see a peculiar sight: A barefoot, long-haired blonde in a dress that seems too short for her, clutching a frying pan and staring down a deer with too-sharp teeth. The deer is growling; Rapunzel is glancing uncertainly between it and the chameleon perched on her shoulder.

"Deer aren't supposed to growl, are they, Pascal...?"

The chameleon chitters at her and points insistently at the staircase with his tail, but she shakes her head. "No, I don't want to just run away!"

Floor Twenty-two.
She is somewhat more relaxed now, but only because she hasn't yet gone very far into the gallery. For the moment she is just looking at the paintings and chattering to about them to Pascal, who is now perched on her other shoulder.

"Whoever painted this must have been very skilled! Look at the reflection in the water," She's saying, brushing her fingers against a painting of a young man staring into a pond. The plaque below it reads Narcissus, but she doesn't know what that means. "It's identical to his face! And look at the way the water catches the light. Can you believe this was made with paint, Pascal?"

The chameleon does not look very impressed. Rapunzel is undaunted; she'll continue her tour of the gallery.
keepscalm: (030❦I grieve at grievances foregone)

[personal profile] keepscalm 2014-03-08 10:20 pm (UTC)(link)
England is a reactionary guy, so Rapunzel's sudden fright alarms him; one would think by now he'd be used to dealing with distressed princesses, but apparently his experience with Zelda isn't enough to make him an expert. He turns his head to give her a sidelong glance over his shoulder; after a moment of consideration and a thoughtful frown to go along with it, he slows up so that he walks beside her rather than in front of her. It's easier to speak to her this way, and hopefully keep her from freaking out too much.

"No, I've been here about two and a half years. I work in the libraries under penalty of sensory deprivation," he clarifies. There's a note of resignation to his voice as he explains this, and it becomes more pronounced as he amends, "I'm as much of a prisoner here as you are."

As for the books...well, he'll get back to that. Best to set it straight that he's not a kidnapper first.
keepscalm: (043❦then do mine eyes best see)

[personal profile] keepscalm 2014-03-08 10:50 pm (UTC)(link)
"Some of us," he answers simply. "Not everyone in the Tower has a job."

He turns, then, leading the way between the two bookcases that begin the science section. England knows where pretty much everything is, of course, but he has a special familiarity with the astronomy subsection. He visits it often for America. So, it doesn't take him long to set aside the books that need re-shelving so he can pluck out a few of the astronomy ones for Rapunzel. "I can't say for sure how many people live here now. They come and go all the time, so it's hard to keep track of the numbers. I suppose you could try to count all the names listed by the dormitories if you want to know exactly."

Most of that is straightforwardly helpful, but that last sentence is a little sarcastic.

After that, though, something occurs to him. He pauses in his book selection to look at Rapunzel again. "Did you read the notes by your bed when you woke up?"
keepscalm: (083❦this silence for my sin)

[personal profile] keepscalm 2014-03-08 11:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Admittedly, England is downright mystified that this girl could be so interested in reading but not read the only sources of information provided to her upon waking. This is probably obvious in the disbelieving way he looks at her after the books are handed over.

"It would have been wise," he returns, and that's definitely the sound of someone who's used to reprimanding small children. "Though they don't tell you everything."

And then, England hesitates noticeably as it sinks in that he's going to have to be the one to tell her the fate of her world. He's been quite the messenger of death lately, between this young lady and Vietnam earlier in the week. His whole image subdues as he turns away from Rapunzel, purposefully busying himself with the various science books on the shelves in front of them. His moment of silence stretches on for a bit before he elects to break it; there's no hint of a reprimand in his tone this time. "You're here because your world has been destroyed. A little boy named Zo saved you."