I don't know that I will ever trust again / It's a price I must pay for all my sins
Characters: Cloud/Ginko (iattractmushi) and OPEN
Date/Time: Late on the 30th - evening on the 31st
Location: Tortuga Wilderness
Rating: PG-13? idk, will change as needed
Summary: After the last month, Ginko doesn't want to deal with life. So he decides to drown his sorrows instead. Open if anyone really wants to bug him--this is mostly just so I can give him a memloss crystal.
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It hadn’t taken him long to notice the change. Almost as soon as he stepped out of the elevator he noticed his fingers starting to fade. He hadn’t been sure what he was seeing was really happening-the drinks in this particular Wilderness were stronger than he’d anticipated-but sidelong looks at the rest of the people who had been in the elevator with him told him he wasn’t hallucinating. Everyone was reacting to the sight, both the ones who were fading and the few who stayed solid.
He wasn’t sure what to do at first, half-wondering if he was going to fade out of existence. So for a little while, he went back to his house-his empty, empty house. None of his things were there, of course, and now that Ink was gone… there wasn’t much point, was there? Not much point in anything.
He’d had to open the door to get in. That was something, at least-he might look like a ghost, but he wasn’t one. Not yet.
Ginko had sat on the couch for an indeterminate amount of time. He had no idea how long it had been-at least a few hours. Long enough for it to get dark outside. He hadn’t cared enough to want to keep track. Finally he stood up again, left the house, made his way back to the elevator, and took it down to the wilderness.
Nothing mattered. The fact that he had cat ears and a tail (the former were pressed flat in an unhappy angle, and the latter swished halfheartedly as he walked) didn’t matter. The fact that he was ghost-like didn’t matter, especially since he could still touch things and pick them up. Apparently he wasn’t about to disappear, that was probably a good thing. But it didn’t matter either.
Ink had vanished. That did matter, and it hurt. It hurt worse than when Sniper had died, and he couldn’t bury this hurt. Couldn’t hide behind a mask of calm and emotionlessness. He was too worn down from everything that had happened; he could only live with this pain. Or find a different way to dull it… which is why he had come back down to this wilderness.
As he moved toward the first bar-like structure he could see, he hoped that he could drink as well as pick things up, or this would be an exercise in frustration.
Date/Time: Late on the 30th - evening on the 31st
Location: Tortuga Wilderness
Rating: PG-13? idk, will change as needed
Summary: After the last month, Ginko doesn't want to deal with life. So he decides to drown his sorrows instead. Open if anyone really wants to bug him--this is mostly just so I can give him a memloss crystal.
------
It hadn’t taken him long to notice the change. Almost as soon as he stepped out of the elevator he noticed his fingers starting to fade. He hadn’t been sure what he was seeing was really happening-the drinks in this particular Wilderness were stronger than he’d anticipated-but sidelong looks at the rest of the people who had been in the elevator with him told him he wasn’t hallucinating. Everyone was reacting to the sight, both the ones who were fading and the few who stayed solid.
He wasn’t sure what to do at first, half-wondering if he was going to fade out of existence. So for a little while, he went back to his house-his empty, empty house. None of his things were there, of course, and now that Ink was gone… there wasn’t much point, was there? Not much point in anything.
He’d had to open the door to get in. That was something, at least-he might look like a ghost, but he wasn’t one. Not yet.
Ginko had sat on the couch for an indeterminate amount of time. He had no idea how long it had been-at least a few hours. Long enough for it to get dark outside. He hadn’t cared enough to want to keep track. Finally he stood up again, left the house, made his way back to the elevator, and took it down to the wilderness.
Nothing mattered. The fact that he had cat ears and a tail (the former were pressed flat in an unhappy angle, and the latter swished halfheartedly as he walked) didn’t matter. The fact that he was ghost-like didn’t matter, especially since he could still touch things and pick them up. Apparently he wasn’t about to disappear, that was probably a good thing. But it didn’t matter either.
Ink had vanished. That did matter, and it hurt. It hurt worse than when Sniper had died, and he couldn’t bury this hurt. Couldn’t hide behind a mask of calm and emotionlessness. He was too worn down from everything that had happened; he could only live with this pain. Or find a different way to dull it… which is why he had come back down to this wilderness.
As he moved toward the first bar-like structure he could see, he hoped that he could drink as well as pick things up, or this would be an exercise in frustration.