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Day 52: Sun Room

Oct 06, 2010 23:12

If she were honest, Yukari would have said she had no idea what a "sun room" was supposed to entail. She didn't ask, though, because by the time she had finished asking all the more important questions (which still weren't getting answered in any way that made sense), Yukari was getting rather fed up with all the nonsense her accompanying nurse was ( Read more... )

sechs, yukari, yuffie, fai, mori, anise

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angeritself October 10 2010, 11:54:39 UTC

By the time lunch had finished, the drugs had mostly worn off. Almost mostly. Irritation had begun to build and stick, coating the inside of his skull, the roof of his mouth, prickly like burrs and sharp with an aftertaste before he'd even swallowed.

Because they'd not completely worn off, and because for the first time since as a child he'd hefted a refrigerator over his head, rage had not consumed him before any other emotion could get a toe in the door, what Shizuo felt, primarily, as the nurse walked him from the Cafeteria, was confusion. Confusion had never lasted long before annoyance with that lack of understanding propelled him into anger, and even now, his teeth grit. But, even annoyed, Shizuo did not seek anger. His resistance, instinct beaten down by his having given up on fighting it years and years ago, mixed with the drugs, kept him from twisting the woman's arm ( ... )

sortaheadstrong October 11 2010, 00:31:35 UTC

Despite the talk she'd attempted to have with Izaya, she really hadn't gotten anything concrete except for location (maybe) and the one is charge (also a maybe). Potentially this was America, and the one who had brought them here was human and not related to aliens of any sort. Again barring that this was a dream of some kind. Izaya had been fairly himself for it to have been one though...

She's sat through the shift with food again, watching the tray with caution. Speaking was still something that was bothering her, so eating would have been even more of an experiment. The Dullahan hadn't remembered eating in her whole life, whereas she'd at least used her voice before. Not spoken through a mouth, but still used. And with her apprehension came the aftereffects. By the time she was taken back to the big room, she didn't feel that good though. Maybe she should have tested one of the shell things. Eating might not have been so bad in the long run. It had to be better than feeling like this though ( ... )

angeritself October 11 2010, 01:02:56 UTC

It would not, in fact, have bothered Shizuo that much to wait for her to write; after all, he waited for her to type out words on her phone. Better waiting for written words than listening to a lot of talking. Not that the option to be annoyed or not presented itself, as what he was first aware of was the wave, movement that drew his attention from the sky (not staring directly at the sun), to those fingers, then immediately to the page held out.

Shizuo. That was his name. Not Ivan Peace, which the staff kept calling him, which pissed him off, only he hadn't been able to reach that point again. Shizuo, so like Izaya, this person had to know him -- he did not remember shouting his name that morning at breakfast, protesting Izaya's damn nickname. But who was this guy?

No, maybe, this girl; the face looked familiar. That was pretty weird for Shizuo, too, almost recognizing a face without knowing the person. A vague memory stirred, something with pens and a hysterical girl. Superglue. Only, the expression on this woman's face was ( ... )

sortaheadstrong October 11 2010, 02:30:15 UTC

She'd had a second page - ready with her name and the question of how he'd gotten there himself - in hopes that he might be a little more forward about saying what he knew, but it went unneeded. He seemed to understand it right off somehow. From her writing, or maybe from her mannerisms, she didn't know. He couldn't have recognized her though because even she didn't know what she looked like. Not really. Even though there'd been that girl. Harima Mika. She'd been made to look something like her, or so she'd thought, but that didn't mean she actually looked like that. Or... maybe it did? If Shizuo was able to recognize her so quickly. He had been there that time ( ... )

angeritself October 13 2010, 10:23:50 UTC

It could have been body language. Something about this woman with a head that told him, body if not conscious mind, that he knew her -- this was the person like him. Something he'd felt, if not understood, the first time he'd seen the figure on the motorbike. Not just because Celty'd been putting that idiot in his place.

At the moment, he wasn't thinking about that, about the past, about Shinra, about anything. Time had passed and the drugs had weakened and fury surged, the attack on Celty unforgivable (luckily, this thought did not strike: is that even her head?) -- until her hand and the new words did, handily, distract him.

Too bad the question was an annoying one. It was confusing, which meant it was annoying. Shizuo had not had much time or ability to think about it over the day, not that thinking about it helped. But, it had been a day of firsts, and it continued in that vein. Rather than fume at the question, Shizuo shrugged. He shrugged, moving a hand to his neck and scratching. His temper had been different all day, even ( ... )

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