[he'd been in and out for the past few days, but today is the first that he considers himself truly awake. With the lingering weakness from his surgery weeks ago, it has taken him agonizingly longer than usual to regain consciousness. And once he finally does, more than the pain, it is the unfamiliar surroundings that strike him. ...This isn't the ( Read more... )

[his memories aren't clear enough to be able to tell how many days it has been since he's returned to the lab in the mountains. That delirious stupor that he'd been in... it made it seem as though his five weeks of captivity in one lab blended seamlessly into finding himself holed up in this empty one. Slowly, however, reality finally descends. He ( Read more... )

[still hanging around town while he waits on word about his arm, he purposefully lets days go by before dropping Vash a little message]

[filtered to Vash || 94%]

It looks as though we're going to be going to the same mechanic, hmm?

She seemed happy to be able to practice her craft on a new customer. I feel as though I'm giving something back by ( Read more... )

[he'd been 'good' long enough, and it's left a bad taste in his mouth. The acid tang of failure and disappointment and restlessness. So... he is hardly surprised when he finds himself snatching mentally at a stray presence on the edge of town and drawing them to him. It was nearly an accident, really. An instinctual reaction. One that he won't be ( Read more... )

[exhaustion is an inadequate word. The utter extent in which he had spent himself combating Vash, the complete mental weariness of having his personality dragged and twisted for two weeks, goes far beyond exhaustion. There is a part--mostly likely a large part--of him that clings to it, not wanting to regain consciousness at all.

When he finally ( Read more... )

[it's cold. Colder than Legato is used to it being during the daytime. He knows what is coming, of course-- he knows enough about how the world is supposed to be to know that a snowy winter is logically on its way. So, he's wandering through town today, still looking a little haggard from his recent rough recovery, inspecting the selection of ( Read more... )

[it's the first day that he's really been able to move, and he's not wasting the opportunity. Pushing himself carefully up in bed, he opens the journal and props it in front of him. There is a clear view of blue hair, tired-looking gold eyes, and bandages across his upper torso. He puts up no filters, gives no preface, just speaks into the journal ( Read more... )