Locked Rooms (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
guillotineroom) wrote2022-11-01 10:50 pm
guillotineroom) wrote2022-11-01 10:50 pm
[elevator] [kraken]
[ When you open your eyes again the first thing that you, and your teammates, may notice is that you are confined within an iron cage, rectangle in shape. Further inspection will reveal that outside of the cage is a large structure of sorts, reaching far above you. It kind of looks like an unfinished clock tower, really... there are spots that look finished and bolted tightly, and others that look like they had been left once and the work never thought of again.
Also, it's pretty chilly. You might get to notice that.
It's foggy and windy—the kind of wind that howls and roars, jostling your cage against the tall shaft, and every so often you feel as though you might have had the ghost of a raindrop on you. The tower-like build creaks horribly ominously in the wind, and you can see the rusted metals swaying slightly. But if you decide to look around...
Flapping above you (and not helping with the wind) is a harpy-like creature, iron chains wrapped around their talons. Though, maybe it's more like a lion? The chains are bolted to the top of your cage. There are also little indicators on the structure, the same distance apart, that seem to be declaring different levels or heights. They look horribly unhappy to be here, but they're also impressive at ignoring any call you might have for them.
There's a door to the cage, but it won't open, even if it's just a simple-looking locking mechanism. If you peer out, it's too foggy on the ground to make out very much, but you can make out nine other, tower-like structures with similarly flapping harpies. Each one, including your own, has an emblazoned emblem of every team's patron monster, so that you can see where everyone is—it's just difficult to make out exactly who may be in each one. Even more difficult to try and communicate like this.
Attached to the door is an aged metal panel with a screen and four buttons; two to choose between the team names that appear on the dark green and black screen, and two to choose whether you wish for that team to go up or down.
After a moment, a little speaker in the corner starts playing an incredibly bad quality version of this.]
Also, it's pretty chilly. You might get to notice that.
It's foggy and windy—the kind of wind that howls and roars, jostling your cage against the tall shaft, and every so often you feel as though you might have had the ghost of a raindrop on you. The tower-like build creaks horribly ominously in the wind, and you can see the rusted metals swaying slightly. But if you decide to look around...
Flapping above you (and not helping with the wind) is a harpy-like creature, iron chains wrapped around their talons. Though, maybe it's more like a lion? The chains are bolted to the top of your cage. There are also little indicators on the structure, the same distance apart, that seem to be declaring different levels or heights. They look horribly unhappy to be here, but they're also impressive at ignoring any call you might have for them.
There's a door to the cage, but it won't open, even if it's just a simple-looking locking mechanism. If you peer out, it's too foggy on the ground to make out very much, but you can make out nine other, tower-like structures with similarly flapping harpies. Each one, including your own, has an emblazoned emblem of every team's patron monster, so that you can see where everyone is—it's just difficult to make out exactly who may be in each one. Even more difficult to try and communicate like this.
Attached to the door is an aged metal panel with a screen and four buttons; two to choose between the team names that appear on the dark green and black screen, and two to choose whether you wish for that team to go up or down.
After a moment, a little speaker in the corner starts playing an incredibly bad quality version of this.]
no subject
[ She's looking down. Face entirely twisted into concern. ]
I cannot fathom what the others are thinking right now.
no subject
What are you thinking right now?
no subject
[ She sees, from down below, and all-too-familiar fist hit the bars of Cerberus. ]
That someone down below us is feeling helpless.
no subject
no subject
Aye.
no subject
[ ... ]
No, never mind it. I suppose people like you aren't so bad, at times.
no subject
no subject
If we fall to our deaths next round, what good will worrying about teams in a better position than us will have done you? Or them?
[ just... gesturing to the rest of Kraken. ]
I do not think having a big heart is necessarily a character flaw, but at a certain point, surely it becomes too much?
no subject
[ She gets his angle. ]
It is a incredibly difficult load to bear.
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I do not know what to say.
no subject
But if there comes a day that you have one, I would be interested in hearing it.
no subject
I have lived many of your lifetimes, and I have had to both suffer the consequences and reap the rewards of one single choice I made. To have to make these choices is of no strange feeling to me.
[ ... ]
In mine own mind, we choose the option that may not seem the best, but minimizes the damage to those around us. The risk we take may not grant us any reward, it's true.
But you ask why I take things on so willfully. It is just...second nature. Something I have always done. Though I have made strides in trusting Kraken, in trusting others. It is difficult for me to let go of how I would make these decisions and take on the burden of everyone around me.
[ ... ] That being said. If you truly wanted to attempt to save our skin. I would not object. The majority choice should also be my choice, because I do trust all of you.
no subject
[ He's quiet for a moment after that, digesting everything else. ]
It is true that I likely do not have the breadth of experience you've had, but such a thing seems obvious to me. If we cannot be trusted to try to save ourselves, why should anyone else reach their hands out to us to attempt to do so? We would be undermining their efforts every step of the way.
So we must, at least to an extent, care about our own fate first.