鳴上 悠 [Narukami Yu] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pitiedthefool) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2014-04-08 08:11 am
pitiedthefool) wrote in towerofanimus2014-04-08 08:11 am
XVIII ❝Must we suffer...❞
Characters: P4Protag and you
Setting: Dormitory Floors, Hidden Floor, or pick your poison.
Format: Starting in prose, but I will follow you!
Summary: After almost a year of traversing the wastelands, a protagonist reappears...
Warnings: Possibility of slowness due to company. Otherwise will update this for later.
Dormitory Floors
There was no telling how long he had been there in the wastes, because he hadn't kept track of the days as well as he'd hoped as he wandered the shell of what had been his world. Only the hundreds upon hundreds of paper cranes that littered the Dojima residence would have given a clue. Yet when he awoke to the stark white walls and the inability to move for a brief time (though it seemed much longer than that), he couldn't help but be relieved. However long the time had been (weeks? months?), the power had not depleted. They still had time.
However little time that may be, considering the counter on the terminals as he walked past them as he went in search of anyone familiar or unfamiliar.
He needed to know what had happened, what was in motion, and what he could do to help them succeed. Too much time had been depleted; too much spent wandering the wastes. There were less than sixty days, and despite the overwhelming loneliness that had nearly crippled him back home... he had to hold on to hope.
(Even when it likely seemed futile to most.)
Hidden Floor
One of his first stops (well, after discussing things with those be bumps into upstairs and others who stop him otherwise) is this floor. Or at least it was on accident. When you aren't at a certain place for many key changes, you tend to explore what you can... and finding a random teleporter on the 101st floor? Suspiiiiiciooooouuuus...
The sight of the metal lounge wasn't something he really took too much note of, but the idea of so much information likely being placed in the terminals was tempting enough. He needed to know what happened, and if he didn't run into his friends yet, this was likely going to be the second-best place to find some of it.
(ooc: If there is another floor you want your character to run into him on, feel free to start something as he is likely to wander the entire tower trying to find everyone he knew/other faces/must obtain all the social links before the final month go go. Also known as "Twi cannot brain other prompts without morning coffee why did the coffee maker die. ;A;")
Setting: Dormitory Floors, Hidden Floor, or pick your poison.
Format: Starting in prose, but I will follow you!
Summary: After almost a year of traversing the wastelands, a protagonist reappears...
Warnings: Possibility of slowness due to company. Otherwise will update this for later.
Dormitory Floors
There was no telling how long he had been there in the wastes, because he hadn't kept track of the days as well as he'd hoped as he wandered the shell of what had been his world. Only the hundreds upon hundreds of paper cranes that littered the Dojima residence would have given a clue. Yet when he awoke to the stark white walls and the inability to move for a brief time (though it seemed much longer than that), he couldn't help but be relieved. However long the time had been (weeks? months?), the power had not depleted. They still had time.
However little time that may be, considering the counter on the terminals as he walked past them as he went in search of anyone familiar or unfamiliar.
He needed to know what had happened, what was in motion, and what he could do to help them succeed. Too much time had been depleted; too much spent wandering the wastes. There were less than sixty days, and despite the overwhelming loneliness that had nearly crippled him back home... he had to hold on to hope.
(Even when it likely seemed futile to most.)
Hidden Floor
One of his first stops (well, after discussing things with those be bumps into upstairs and others who stop him otherwise) is this floor. Or at least it was on accident. When you aren't at a certain place for many key changes, you tend to explore what you can... and finding a random teleporter on the 101st floor? Suspiiiiiciooooouuuus...
The sight of the metal lounge wasn't something he really took too much note of, but the idea of so much information likely being placed in the terminals was tempting enough. He needed to know what happened
(ooc: If there is another floor you want your character to run into him on, feel free to start something as he is likely to wander the entire tower trying to find everyone he knew/other faces/must obtain all the social links before the final month go go. Also known as "Twi cannot brain other prompts without morning coffee why did the coffee maker die. ;A;")
no subject
Yep. Bullshit.She nods.]
To say that it's been a wild ride since I've been back is probably the understatement of the century. Jason's death and Ruana's unglamoured appearance are probably the biggest things.
[Not even giving Sephiroth the time of day. She is done with him.]
That and Zo. I think he really is on our side, now. He's a little frightened about it, though, if the hug he gave me when I talked to him is any indication. He almost reminded me of Nanako...
no subject
...
She had to compare him to Nanako, didn't she. (She did.) Though that one line gave him pause, paranoia rearing its ugly head again.]
I'm sure he is. [It is getting down to the wire, and Ruana was definitely the one thing he was afraid of most in this place were he honest about it.]
no subject
I don't blame him. I don't blame anyone, really. We're hitting the end of the line soon, one way or another, and I think anyone that isn't at least a little afraid of both Ruana and what she might do is either lying to themselves or insane.
...it's so weird, though. I think most of us were expecting a monster underneath Ruana's glamour, something like what Jason looked like without it. I don't think anyone even remotely expected to see a little girl under it.