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paixaorpg2006-03-15 06:34 pm
redhot.livejournal.com) wrote in paixaorpg2006-03-15 06:34 pm
The Meeting Room. [Closed]
Character(s): The entire Organization, minus XIII, plus a surprise...
Content: They hold a meeting.
Setting: The Meeting Room.
Time: Saturday morning.
Warnings: Violence later on.
It was the day of the meeting. They filtered in silently, dressed in their matching black coats, marching like a funeral procession - some with their heads obscured by their black hoods, others with them down – but their faces so blank they might as well be shrouded in the darkness as well. These meetings always seemed to have a strange effect on them all; whatever shimmers of personality they possessed elsewhere seemed to be drained from their personage when they entered, and they would remain so until they all became more comfortable with the room. It had always felt like a new experience when they entered here; there was no such thing as getting used to the Meeting Room.
Their black coats provided a stark contrast to the immaculate room. The walls and floor and every piece of furniture present within it was pristine white, so blanched there seemed to be a faint glow. The Nobodies moved to their according chairs, most likely via teleportation – how else would they situate themselves on seats elevated several feet off of the floor? Quietly, they did this, like mindless drones, set to one purpose and one purpose only.
On the highest chair, overlooking them all, sat Number I, the Superior. He had been here since they all had begun to filter in. He was one of those with his hood up, giving no clue to his current demeanor or what his intentions were for this meeting. Where his face should have been there was the dark void of shadow, and instead of appearing to be mourning, he radiated ruthless, swarthy power. The ability to hurt, kill, damage, destroy, with no concern whatsoever for the consequences of the acts – a truly heartless creature. A Nobody.
Ironically, VIII had been the one who had been the last one to enter. With a fox smile on his face he observed that every seat was filled save his own and XIII. He could feel awkward eyes on him, especially those of the Superior's, but for once he did not turn a shy eye away from him; no, he emanated confidence, eager to pull his card from his sleeve.
He settled into his seat after teleporting up to it; he slumped down on it slightly and spread his legs awkwardly, tactlessly, crossing his gloved hands on his stomach. This was going to be good.
Content: They hold a meeting.
Setting: The Meeting Room.
Time: Saturday morning.
Warnings: Violence later on.
It was the day of the meeting. They filtered in silently, dressed in their matching black coats, marching like a funeral procession - some with their heads obscured by their black hoods, others with them down – but their faces so blank they might as well be shrouded in the darkness as well. These meetings always seemed to have a strange effect on them all; whatever shimmers of personality they possessed elsewhere seemed to be drained from their personage when they entered, and they would remain so until they all became more comfortable with the room. It had always felt like a new experience when they entered here; there was no such thing as getting used to the Meeting Room.
Their black coats provided a stark contrast to the immaculate room. The walls and floor and every piece of furniture present within it was pristine white, so blanched there seemed to be a faint glow. The Nobodies moved to their according chairs, most likely via teleportation – how else would they situate themselves on seats elevated several feet off of the floor? Quietly, they did this, like mindless drones, set to one purpose and one purpose only.
On the highest chair, overlooking them all, sat Number I, the Superior. He had been here since they all had begun to filter in. He was one of those with his hood up, giving no clue to his current demeanor or what his intentions were for this meeting. Where his face should have been there was the dark void of shadow, and instead of appearing to be mourning, he radiated ruthless, swarthy power. The ability to hurt, kill, damage, destroy, with no concern whatsoever for the consequences of the acts – a truly heartless creature. A Nobody.
Ironically, VIII had been the one who had been the last one to enter. With a fox smile on his face he observed that every seat was filled save his own and XIII. He could feel awkward eyes on him, especially those of the Superior's, but for once he did not turn a shy eye away from him; no, he emanated confidence, eager to pull his card from his sleeve.
He settled into his seat after teleporting up to it; he slumped down on it slightly and spread his legs awkwardly, tactlessly, crossing his gloved hands on his stomach. This was going to be good.