all this madness, beauty, and my sadness [active/closed]
Character(s): Nill and Sasori
Content: Nill visits Sasori at the art shop---which survived!---in the aftermath of the monster's wrath.
Setting: Ultrecht Art Supply
Time: Mid-afternoon
Warnings: This is cuter than it should be. Move along!
Surrounded by a silent audience of the more mundane puppets he made to practice and pass the time, Akasuna no Sasori sat hunched over a table, working with the same serious patience which had endured everything else. His attention was restricted to two pieces of thin leather spread on the table before him, and the task at hand; tinting that leather to match his own skin tone, to best repair the damage done.
Despite the care always applied to his art and craft, the puppet master was aware of emotion grating against his focus---two in particular, and in conflict: frustration, relief.
He had been out, having heard the noise and half-expecting to find Deidara as the cause of it. Instead, he had seen the shadow approaching and moved to seek shelter as quickly as he could, bracing himself in a doorway and doing everything he could to shelter himself as stonework fell. He could think only of his heart, (conflicted) concerned --- it was (a weakness to be resented a flaw to be corrected a piece to be perfected, but precious and priceless being everything he had been before) the priority.
It remained the priority even as the stone and brick fell in larger blocks, some striking with force sufficient to splinter wood---which they did. He waited, hating it but having to, and in time, the monster passed. By that time, he was trapped, having been knocked to his knees with one arm caught; pulling loose tore his sleeve and skin, scraped the dry flesh underneath, and demanded a serious effort…but it did prove successful, something in its favour.
The bone could have been broken, and would have, if it hadn’t been augmented in the course of other modifications. It was some relief that that withstood, but the fact remained that he had been broken. Not broken beyond mending, not by any means, but broken nonetheless…
(one day it would be impossible)
(Frustration, relief; it could have been something too far to fix.)
Relief was as strong as the frustration, because his heart, his puppets, and his place of residence hadn’t sustained any damage. The store and its stock had escaped through being on the edge of the rampage, and although it was the least important, it was convenient. Admittedly, he could be found, if anyone would care to look, and he didn’t care for the odds---he had always holed up (so like his namesake) until he had time to repair himself. With precious few exceptions, anyone to see damage would interpret it as a weakness to exploit…
(And it was a weakness; he meant to be better than that.)
(although, as art, he would endure---as always)
Content: Nill visits Sasori at the art shop---which survived!---in the aftermath of the monster's wrath.
Setting: Ultrecht Art Supply
Time: Mid-afternoon
Warnings: This is cuter than it should be. Move along!
Surrounded by a silent audience of the more mundane puppets he made to practice and pass the time, Akasuna no Sasori sat hunched over a table, working with the same serious patience which had endured everything else. His attention was restricted to two pieces of thin leather spread on the table before him, and the task at hand; tinting that leather to match his own skin tone, to best repair the damage done.
Despite the care always applied to his art and craft, the puppet master was aware of emotion grating against his focus---two in particular, and in conflict: frustration, relief.
He had been out, having heard the noise and half-expecting to find Deidara as the cause of it. Instead, he had seen the shadow approaching and moved to seek shelter as quickly as he could, bracing himself in a doorway and doing everything he could to shelter himself as stonework fell. He could think only of his heart, (conflicted) concerned --- it was (a weakness to be resented a flaw to be corrected a piece to be perfected, but precious and priceless being everything he had been before) the priority.
It remained the priority even as the stone and brick fell in larger blocks, some striking with force sufficient to splinter wood---which they did. He waited, hating it but having to, and in time, the monster passed. By that time, he was trapped, having been knocked to his knees with one arm caught; pulling loose tore his sleeve and skin, scraped the dry flesh underneath, and demanded a serious effort…but it did prove successful, something in its favour.
The bone could have been broken, and would have, if it hadn’t been augmented in the course of other modifications. It was some relief that that withstood, but the fact remained that he had been broken. Not broken beyond mending, not by any means, but broken nonetheless…
(one day it would be impossible)
(Frustration, relief; it could have been something too far to fix.)
Relief was as strong as the frustration, because his heart, his puppets, and his place of residence hadn’t sustained any damage. The store and its stock had escaped through being on the edge of the rampage, and although it was the least important, it was convenient. Admittedly, he could be found, if anyone would care to look, and he didn’t care for the odds---he had always holed up (so like his namesake) until he had time to repair himself. With precious few exceptions, anyone to see damage would interpret it as a weakness to exploit…
(And it was a weakness; he meant to be better than that.)
(although, as art, he would endure---as always)