full_score
in
damned
Day 50: Chapel
The last thing Claude heard was the Head Doctor's voice faintly filtering into the corridors of the ship before he found himself tucked beneath the sheets of his bed. It took a moment to register he'd even changed locations, but then he he abruptly sat up, fought the wave of nausea that washed over him, and felt the blankets beneath his fingers.
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What a night!
Maybe it should've been something of a reassurance, being able to anticipate his mood once he inevitably opened his eyes to his cell’s white walls and was met with the morning intercom announcement. But his growing string of nonsuccesses was growing more burdensome with each day gone, plaguing him like a burning brand in the back, always there, always just out of reach. This was starting to go beyond pathetic. Aidou had practically been living in a foul mood since his imprisonment, but always with the understanding that he would be able to go out and face down an obstacle however many tries it took.
Now, though, he was beginning to feel he needed to do something greater to get around nights ending too soon, and the genius, the miracle genius, couldn’t immediately think of what. The noble had spent almost a month warding off the feeling, but it was there in the cloudy blue of his eyes: dismay.
Crap! Hadn’t he come this far in order to go all the way? Outlast any enemy? The phantom witch, the shadow ( ... )
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When given a choice about where to go, she selected the chapel; no real reason, she'd just seen Subaru in there enough so she thought... well, that it might bring her some peace, if nothing else. Maybe if she meditated enough, she'd even be able to check up on him.
She didn't want to dwell on that too much, though, so when she saw someone who looked like he needed cheering up even more than she did, she gravitated towards him without a second thought. "Good morning," she said softly, sitting down next to him. He looked familiar enough so she knew he'd been around for a while; even if she hadn't recognized him, she thought the expression on his face made the time he'd spent here clear enough. By now, she just knew.
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Nothing was right.
And in the face of this ever growing truth, he didn’t know what he needed, what he was missing in order for him to assemble the many pieces circling around and around in his mind. But he did know he was finding comprehending his circumstances hard enough when he was alone with only himself. Some girl’s pity, or false cheer, or gods forbid, misplaced empathy, would make things that much more unbearable ( ... )
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She wasn't about to push him to tell her about his night, she just thought he looked like he needed someone to talk to; if he wanted to open up to her, he would. If not, even the superficial connection of idle chatter sometimes helped.
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"It is if you learn something in the end," he said distantly. The truth currently shaming him, put to words.
The vampire didn’t want to be subject to the Head Doctor’s games; he loathed them, more deeply and more vehemently than anything. But he, too, hadn’t been able to see where last night’s had led due to powers currently beyond his control--being catapulted straight back to his cell after nights ended before it‘d begun--and to the noble, time wasted on nothing was a greater evil than participating in some demented test of will. There were things to be learned during the latter. Even bearing witness to the extent of Landel’s power meant something. Once more, though, he had to rely on secondhand information to augment his understanding, which was not even half-formed yet ( ... )
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