towerofanimus | (no subject)

Characters: Mindfang, open to all
Setting: Around the tower
Format: Starting with action will follow with whatever's picked
Summary: Mindfang wakes up and flips some shit
Warnings: Shit being flipped. Violence. Will be edited if need be.

Dorm 1-15

[Even as she stirs, sleep paralysis clinging to her Mindfang doesn't freak. She doesn't allow herself to, doing that will only bring satisfaction to her captors, she's sure of it. Instead she waits, reaching out with her mind while she tests her body, waiting for it's response. And even when she does feel her muscles twitch and she finds herself able to sit up she doesn't rush, movements lazy as if she has not a fear in the world. The collar around her throat? An innconvience yes, but she knows she'll get it off with ease.

That doesn't mean she'll take this lying down though. If either of her room-mates are in the room as she wakes they'll find themselves grabbed by a rather tall troll, one eye a brilliant red, one arm completely robotic and her stare fierce even as her tone stays calm and controlled]

Where am I? Explain, now.

Throughout the tower

[Having changed out of that skintight white suit into one of her changes of clothes Mindfang swaggers her way through the tower, her seeing eye focused and all her senses on alert. She won't let anyone surprise her, and if they even try... well, she'll enjoy a good fight, and she's more than prepared, with a thin sword strapped to her side and her dice on her person.

Scratches of blue line her throat where nails have broken through her skin in her attempts to pull her collar off, a fight she only gave up because of her need to find out more about this place. She'll best the thing, and once she does, she'll find those that put it on her and tear them apart. The audacity, thinking they could collar the great Marquise as if she was nothing but a lowblood slave.

She'll show them. Once she finds them]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[That's an interesting thing to focus on, but Naminé knows all too well how limited her own understanding of the troll's hemospectrum is. Perhaps this has some importance.]

... Kind of in the middle, I think.

[What does cerulean count as--]

I... guess so. So far, they seem to be succeeding. [She hasn't heard anything about the Condesce escaping.]

[Sighs, getting that this girl has no idea what the difference in shades mean. Quickly her sleeve is drawn up and Mindfang draws her claws across her skin, the cuts immediately oozing her particular shade of blue blood.]

Darker than this or the same.

[Seems entirely unconcerned and for a good reason, her blood already starting to clot]

So she is stuck... interesting.

--! [Woah, what-- oh. Oh, that's... one way to clear things up, Naminé supposes, even if she does feel a bit distressed.]

I... think it might be the same.

[Her eyes flicker between Mindfang's face and the wound. Well, the woman seems okay with it, anyway.]

[Uncertain how to respond to that last bit, she just nods.]

[She's right, Mindfang's fine with it, the slight twinge of pain nothing compared to other pains she had face. The usual ache in her shoulder where flesh met metal was more of a pain really.]

The same... And the sign, was it...

[Pauses before using her finger and her blood to draw an ♏ on the paper before holding it up to Naminé.

This is more important than the Empress, yes.] Did it look like this.

[She tilts her head at that sign, looking thoughtful.] ... That does look a little bit familiar, but... I'm not sure. How do you know what someone's sign is? [Pause. Thinking back over the trolls she's met,] Is it usually on their clothing?