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Entry tags:
a far worse, if more prestigious service
Who| The Psiioniic & The Initiate || The Psiioniic and YOU.
What| Psychic trolls and their kooky powers, and the benefits of telekinetics and precognition. (Or, masks are Really Great.) Plus, precognition makes hiding spots useless and the Psiioniic doesn't want to kill, he just wants to watch the world burn.
Where| Third floor, specifically the gem hall, and then various places around the museum.
When| Middle of the second week.
Warnings/Notes| PRECOGNITION, obviously, though it essentially boils down to "knowing the details of how people die", Creepiness, mentions of violence and murder and other going-ons in the Arena. Maybe someone will actually get injured.
closed to the initiate:
Finding the masks was the best thing that could have happened to the Psiioniic in the arena. It was probably more than a little fucked up, that he was so ecstatic over something that, for a very brief period of time, would give him a fraction of his powers. It was as disappointing as it was relieving, really. He didn't like living a life stripped bare of the one thing that made him who he was. He was the Psiioniic, the Helmsman, a troll with great power and strength...
But he could tell that the Capitol had weakened him, so even though he was relieved to know that he still had this power, a part of him feels like he's been cheated.
He holes up in the gem hall, not at all bothered by how dark it is. He has excellent night vision already, and the glow he casts in the room certainly helps. The hall is cast in a light that flickers between red and blue, and he keeps as still as he can as he stares at the Initiate from behind his mask. He's waiting for something, but he doesn't know what, and he'll just stare at the younger troll until he gets an answer to all the questions he's too afraid to ask.
OPEN:
He doesn't stick with the Initiate throughout the entirety of the arena. It's stupid of him to leave the other troll's side, because he's safe there, but...He's fascinated by this place. Trolls didn't have anything like this, as far as he knew. No buildings dedicated to nothing but science and history and the glory of their species, no buildings with the skeletons of the beasts that walked Alternia. He would wonder why, but he knew why there would never be such a thing on his home planet.
He was still jealous, though, and the Psiioniic makes it a point to see as much of the museum as he can. Luckily for him, he can cover a lot of ground very, very quickly. Flight (though it's really just carrying himself with his telekinesis, but same difference) is much faster than walking, especially when you're as frail as he is. It also means he doesn't have to wait on elevators, as he can simply pull the doors apart and float up or down the shafts.
Of course, it's not very stealthy. He's surrounded by a glow that lights up the rooms he's in, and the masks that float in the same glow behind him (it's best to be prepared - he doesn't want to be defenseless in a place like this) don't make him look any less conspicuous. Though he's not out for blood, he does stop if he comes across another tribute, and he stares at them. He's pretty remarkable at finding people - he's being dragged along by the voices he can hear, the yelling, the pleading, bartering, the anger and sorrow. It's been a long, long while since he heard them, but the voices of the soon to be deceased are comforting, and they lead him to tributes that probably thought they were quite well hidden.
What| Psychic trolls and their kooky powers, and the benefits of telekinetics and precognition. (Or, masks are Really Great.) Plus, precognition makes hiding spots useless and the Psiioniic doesn't want to kill, he just wants to watch the world burn.
Where| Third floor, specifically the gem hall, and then various places around the museum.
When| Middle of the second week.
Warnings/Notes| PRECOGNITION, obviously, though it essentially boils down to "knowing the details of how people die", Creepiness, mentions of violence and murder and other going-ons in the Arena. Maybe someone will actually get injured.
closed to the initiate:
Finding the masks was the best thing that could have happened to the Psiioniic in the arena. It was probably more than a little fucked up, that he was so ecstatic over something that, for a very brief period of time, would give him a fraction of his powers. It was as disappointing as it was relieving, really. He didn't like living a life stripped bare of the one thing that made him who he was. He was the Psiioniic, the Helmsman, a troll with great power and strength...
But he could tell that the Capitol had weakened him, so even though he was relieved to know that he still had this power, a part of him feels like he's been cheated.
He holes up in the gem hall, not at all bothered by how dark it is. He has excellent night vision already, and the glow he casts in the room certainly helps. The hall is cast in a light that flickers between red and blue, and he keeps as still as he can as he stares at the Initiate from behind his mask. He's waiting for something, but he doesn't know what, and he'll just stare at the younger troll until he gets an answer to all the questions he's too afraid to ask.
OPEN:
He doesn't stick with the Initiate throughout the entirety of the arena. It's stupid of him to leave the other troll's side, because he's safe there, but...He's fascinated by this place. Trolls didn't have anything like this, as far as he knew. No buildings dedicated to nothing but science and history and the glory of their species, no buildings with the skeletons of the beasts that walked Alternia. He would wonder why, but he knew why there would never be such a thing on his home planet.
He was still jealous, though, and the Psiioniic makes it a point to see as much of the museum as he can. Luckily for him, he can cover a lot of ground very, very quickly. Flight (though it's really just carrying himself with his telekinesis, but same difference) is much faster than walking, especially when you're as frail as he is. It also means he doesn't have to wait on elevators, as he can simply pull the doors apart and float up or down the shafts.
Of course, it's not very stealthy. He's surrounded by a glow that lights up the rooms he's in, and the masks that float in the same glow behind him (it's best to be prepared - he doesn't want to be defenseless in a place like this) don't make him look any less conspicuous. Though he's not out for blood, he does stop if he comes across another tribute, and he stares at them. He's pretty remarkable at finding people - he's being dragged along by the voices he can hear, the yelling, the pleading, bartering, the anger and sorrow. It's been a long, long while since he heard them, but the voices of the soon to be deceased are comforting, and they lead him to tributes that probably thought they were quite well hidden.
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"Don't be afraid. I'm not going to be the one to kill you."
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He just wants to know what he did to make the other so afraid.
"Can you even hear me?"
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"I- yes. I- Light..."
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He stares at Some quietly, and he realizes he doesn't know much about him at all, simply that scars are important to him. Maybe it's strange for him to care about his...comfort, but he doesn't want to be a cruel troll. He doesn't want to be a monster like some other trolls he's met.
"Better?"
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"... You... we met." He swallows, tasting draining fear like something green caught in his throat.
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"Gan! Helmsman? Is that you?"
He has his flashlight with him because it's heavy and he can really do some damage with it if he wants.
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He's glad to see the human, and he laughs at his surprise.
"Who elthe would it be?"
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"Something from my waking nightmares? Why are you like this?" He really is upset by what the troll is doing. He had no idea glowing and floating was an option and this was not how he wanted to find out.
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And there stands the new. He looks over in surprise at the flash of red to blue, then the mask comes off- without him having to tear skin, bleed purple, for the first time. He stares back with a sort of wonder and fascination for a minute or two, then grins. He rushes quickly forward, voodoo silenced now and say, "Feels like to being put back together don't it? FEELS LIKE WHAT ALL FUCKERS WOULD DESCRIBE COMING HIVEBOUND. Lasts for set time then digs in like to stay, but by Messiahs, it's got worth still."
He touches his moirail's mask, watching the glow almost reverent, the paint and bloodied sides of his face changing color in the flash. He steps back then, gets a good bit of space between. "TRY IT," He says. "Show what a brother can do." He waits.
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He steps back, pushing himself up and off the floor. "Follow me, then." He has to push away the sounds of the Initiate's death, and it's easier to ignore the voices than he thoughthe could be, but it still colors his actions with hesitation.
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He nods and follows after, still gravity bound but almost hopping at times in his eagerness. "HOW'S IT FEEL TO YOU?" He asks, looking up for the first time.
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"It'th...like coming back after being gone for thweepth. Like being whole again." He grins, and even though it can't be seen, it's obvious in his voice.
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"KNEW A BROTHER WOULD AGREE. What all else can you do?"