Nolene (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
requital) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2012-01-20 02:11 am
requital) wrote in towerofanimus2012-01-20 02:11 am
Entry tags:
01
Characters: Zexion, open
Setting: Dorm 1-08 → Floor Three → Dining hall
Format: Action brackets to start, following with either
Summary: Zexion arrives, sniffs around, hits the library, sniffs some more, then eats oatmeal.
Warnings: None
[Zexion awakes, waits for the sleep paralysis to pass, reads the letters, then promptly prepares himself with the trunks' possessions and departs for the third floor. A multitude of scents assault his nose on the way. There are many in the Tower; some are familiar, including a few whose names are on the tip of his tongue, but most are new. He proceeds with care and caution so as to avoid being seen.
Seating himself before a network terminal deep on the third floor, he burrows into the backlogs. Never mind the books. It's imperative that he learn as much as possible while unable to utilize the Corridors of Darkness to a worldly extent, and the library provides a more private atmosphere than the halls of the dormitory. A great deal of time passes. He reads and listens in silence, pausing for the heavier information to sink in as he balances the new-found knowledge. Certainly, with all this rich (yet unreliable) information floating around in public, he can inwardly justify the impossible presence of certain scents and why some seem different. Even his.
He spares an hour or two for the bookshelves and finds nothing of significant worth.
Then he's back on the first floor, seated so casually in a corner of the dining hall, bowl of oatmeal in tow, that he appears inconspicuous upon initial glance, except he's anything but with his dark style of dress and flat expression.]
Setting: Dorm 1-08 → Floor Three → Dining hall
Format: Action brackets to start, following with either
Summary: Zexion arrives, sniffs around, hits the library, sniffs some more, then eats oatmeal.
Warnings: None
[Zexion awakes, waits for the sleep paralysis to pass, reads the letters, then promptly prepares himself with the trunks' possessions and departs for the third floor. A multitude of scents assault his nose on the way. There are many in the Tower; some are familiar, including a few whose names are on the tip of his tongue, but most are new. He proceeds with care and caution so as to avoid being seen.
Seating himself before a network terminal deep on the third floor, he burrows into the backlogs. Never mind the books. It's imperative that he learn as much as possible while unable to utilize the Corridors of Darkness to a worldly extent, and the library provides a more private atmosphere than the halls of the dormitory. A great deal of time passes. He reads and listens in silence, pausing for the heavier information to sink in as he balances the new-found knowledge. Certainly, with all this rich (yet unreliable) information floating around in public, he can inwardly justify the impossible presence of certain scents and why some seem different. Even his.
He spares an hour or two for the bookshelves and finds nothing of significant worth.
Then he's back on the first floor, seated so casually in a corner of the dining hall, bowl of oatmeal in tow, that he appears inconspicuous upon initial glance, except he's anything but with his dark style of dress and flat expression.]
no subject
His thoughts are anything but racing. It's a simple fact that his Other has been here long before him, and that influences very little, save perhaps for the potential that people might compare their faces -- which is hardly a problem when sharing faces is a common occurrence. How they're both present is a temporal paradox explained by the ability to draw in people from different times. And dimensions. It's all so easy, really. Ienzo is the least of his problems; a straightforward question.
The library has nothing to offer in the way of Tower-related information, and he isn't interested in other reading material. That's enough to drive Zexion out of the third floor in favor of getting to everything else for the remainder of the day. Research and acclimation come first.
He doesn't so much as glance back as he walks away.]
no subject
[It doesn't take long for Ienzo to establish that this other person either A. has a coincidentally similar appearance to his own, and is therefore nothing to worry about, or B. is possibly an alternate version of himself, like the trolls with their blood colors or the gender-changed nations. Though humans, of course, don't have blood that changes color past occasionally blue -- so the Tower considered his age instead? Hm.]
[Obviously he hadn't changed much in the years between his current timeframe and the 'new one'. They hadn't exchanged a single word with one another, and it seemed as if the older Ienzo had grown more adept at hiding his emotions; for the few minutes they looked at one another, his face was lacking in even the smallest tic, or twinge of a muscle when he saw himself as a young child looking through the books. One way or another, if the worst came to it, the older Ienzo would at least be a help in figuring out what's happening in this Tower... probably.]
[He watches the older one briefly as he leaves, and then returns to floating the shelves.]