Yuuhi was probably one of the few people to arrive in the waiting room who wasn't surprised to have a visitor. It had to happen sooner or later, they always found one another in whatever new world they arrived in. Sometimes it took longer than others, minutes, hours, weeks, even months, but it was almost inevitable (Hitsuzen as Yuuko-han might
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So much had happened since then. So much black infesting the purity of souls.
He approached the man he'd known for so many years slowly, a serene smile on his face. No matter what he did, or how much he hurt, that same smile always seemed to linger on his lips. To read beyond it was a trial, a gift granted to so few. He had hoped Robin might be able to tell the meanings, instead of hiding behind his own smiles.
But hope only counted for so much, did so much in these days. What was Robin hoping for now? Or who?
"Good afternoon." Words so gentle, eyes the same. "I hope you're doing well, Robin."
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The smile was gone from Yuuhi's face in a matter of seconds. He recognized the voice, of course, how could he ever forget? As much as he told himself that it couldn't be, that Chii would have told him if the king had awakened, that he'd have sensed it somehow, they'd he'd know... he couldn't deny what was before his eyes.
It was Ashura, no denying it. His Ashura. Not just another person with a similar face or name, it was him.
Yuuhi stood, though his legs were shaky. Probably because they didn't know if they should run or stay, wavering with indecision like a reflection of his mind.
"...Highness," he managed, though it was little more than a whisper.
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It wasn't at all delightful to see his pain.
"I'm no Highness, Robin." He reached out with a graceful touch, letting his fingers run along the line of the man's jaw, should he be allowed. Though the offering was gentle, he would understand if the boy pulled away.
His hands were hardly clean, after all.
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As those familiar hands reached, he wanted to hope that there was still something good and kind in Ashura. Something he hadn't tainted with his curse. He wanted to believe it, just as he'd wanted to believe and surrender to the creature last night who had taken his friend's form. He didn't back away, but his body shook at the memories that touch stirred. Hands that had once been so gentle, covered in blood. Eyes that had been so soft and kind turned empty and hollow and all of it because of him.His own hand reached up to touch Ashura's, but shrank back like an animal too close to a fire. He let it fall to his side like a dead thing, as though the will had dropped out of him. And, in a sense it had, just at seeing the man who stood before him. "Why," he spoke quietly, just loud enough for the two of them to hear. "You can't... you ( ... )
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Brother, please let it be you, she pleaded internally. She'd been away from him more often than this, but never had she felt so abandoned without him. At least Allen was here, and while she didn't see them often, Ravi and Kanda. But to see her brother again...it would be too much. Still, she had to be honest with herself. It might not be Komui. It might be Crowley, or one of the other exorcists or members of the Church. Still, a visitor meant that maybe someone had found her, that she and Allen could find a way to escape ( ... )
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He eyes lighted when he saw her enter, and he bolted up from his seat, nearly about to rush to her. He didn't though. The nurses had given him fair warning about causing a scene as he had done when leaving his sister in their care. Shouting her name, running to her and clinging with the intent of never letting go would have definitely been considered a "scene".
Instead, he smiled his brightest for her and threw his arms wide open. "Come and give your big brother a hug!" He did hope she didn't hate him enough to shun a hug.
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"I'm here; it's all right," he spoke, trying to calm her. He had known she would hate it here, away from him, but the mention of monsters was a bit shocking. He could only think that it was an exaggeration on her part to make him feel more horrid for having left her. She didn't need to exaggerate to make him feel that way; he already did. Nothing else in the world had ever mattered so much to him as his little sister, but because of his neglect, she had suffered. She was still suffering.
All because of him.
"You are sick," he said slowly, keeping his voice gentle as only a loving sibling could, "but that's not your fault. It's mine. I should have been there for you; I should have! But when I wasn't... this ( ... )
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In probably the most obedient show of cooperation Diva had exhibited yet, she had assented to coming to the waiting room, having stopped a little ways in and looked this way and that. Two nurses stood some ways behind her, having approached her while she'd been in the middle of amusing herself with that redhead. The concept of a visitor had, as a matter of fact, piqued Diva's warped sense of curiosity. In a facility run by humans, where her Chevaliers were nowhere to be found, and she was constrained and lethargic and mad and faced with all these odd things that didn't seem like any experiment she knew, what did it mean that someone was 'visiting' her?
Couldn't be one of hers, because the building would be in flames and everyone dead--perhaps Amshel would then spoil her with new clothes and the dancing toy bear she'd wanted in apology.
She watched the doorway, expecting something more.
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Perhaps the scene would have played out differently if he hadn't gestured for the kids.
Her gaze flickered downwards from his face to his thighs at the gesture, the whisper,
at the small persons he had with him. Diva didn't understand what was going on. Why this person was here, and with small creatures in tow. Everything changed when they came into view, however. Her eyes were on them and only them -
- those faces, those faces, those little heartbeats, those perfect little things -
- and then her everything was coming alive and singing silently. As though made of liquid grace, Diva went down on her knees, down to their height.
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He'd gathered from the notice board that these 'visitors' appeared as people that were close to them. The only people close to him were already in the institute. Who else was there? Old Denelor? Zed, perhaps? It generally seemed to be family members - was he going to be confronted with a parody of his twin brother?
He considered it an irritation more than anything else. He was still curious about the man he'd been speaking to in the Courtyard. But he had little choice as he was gestured to a strange looking chair in a room where other patients were waiting. He sat with his hands folded in his lap, training kicking in. It was a touch like waiting outside his father's office for an audience - not a pleasant thought.
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She was even more bewildered when she was ushered into a little room and nudged towards Valyn. She went willingly enough, then, moving to his side and sinking down into the empty chair beside him with a wary sideways glance.
"Valyn?" she murmured quietly, for his ears alone. "What's going on?"
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"Some people claim they use look-alikes of people we know - illusions, most likely - and others swear it is people we know, who were broken by this place and believe their lies. I honestly don't know what I believe."
It was possible to completely rewrite a person's mind, but it only took a short time. He didn't think these people were using the magic he was familiar with to accomplish their goals.
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She could hope, anyway. She wasn't sure who they would send to visit her anyway. Everyone important to her was already here.
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Ken pulled away from the nurse's guiding hand and let himself fall into an empty chair. He almost never checked the bulletin board, Ken had no idea who might be coming to see him. Nothing for it but to wait and see.
Unfortunately, 'waiting and seeing' was made far more tedious by the lack of magazine selection.
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The voice was probably familiar, and came in the second the door had opened wide enough for Andrew's visitor to see the visitee. The grin, the bright eyes, the casual suit - they would be familiar, too, although the suit was a little more modern than the last time Andrew might have seen it.
The visitor strode into the room and sat down across from him, a casual slouch of absolute comfort and familiarity.
He smiled.
"You're not gonna win any girls dressed like that."
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"...Kase?" Shit. Ken could feel his hands curling into fists already, and he wasn't even that pissed off yet. He was starting to feel the itch to jump across the table and pound that easy smile off the ghost's face. 'He can't be here, he's dead, I killed him myself and enjoyed every last fucking minute of it...'
Only he hadn't enjoyed it. Ken focused on relaxing himself, slowly letting his hands relax. They were shaking.
"...you're one to talk, wearing that glorified carpetbag. How long's it been since you got laid, smartass?"
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"Nowhere near as long as you last got any." He smirked. "Although I've seen a few girls here that I'd be happy to take out to dinner, so I'm a little jealous of you. How've they been treating you here?"
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