Complete Log [standalone]
Title: And They Beat and Bleed
Characters: Abarai Renji, NPCs
Locale: The carriage ride to the Institute, the Institute
Timeframe: Late morning.
What: Renji's arrival to the Karakura Institute.
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for swearing.
Of all the things he thought would ever happen to him, Abarai Renji could say, with full honesty and more than a smattering of colourful language, that being locked up in an insane asylum was not one of them.
It was bizarre. It was just wrong. Renji couldn't stop thinking about it, couldn't stop beating his mind against the thick iron bars of hopelessness and confinement, like a bird beating its wings against its cage until they bled. Except his wings were powered by anger and when his wings tore the anger bled into his mind and made his skin hot and prickly and made his scowl deepen and shoulders tense and jaw clench. His fist curled, and yearned for some hard surface to connect with, and no matter how hard he tightened it he couldn't hold on to his freedom and could only watch it slip away between his fingers like sand.
It was wrong and it wasn't right and it wasn't fair, but what had he expected anyways? Understanding? Justice?
But the knowledge that the world had no heart and that the odds were stacked against him wasn't a comfort; it was just a cold metal knot at the bottom of his heart, a wet gray blanket of gloom cast over him.
The wheels of the carriage rattled against the road, the horses' hooves clip-clop, clip-clopped. Next to him sat the man whose name Renji had not bothered to remember -- a representative of the Institute, he had said, sent to take Renji there and make sure that her journey was smooth and comfortable. The Institute prides itself on its comfort, hospitality and consideration to its patients, Miss Abarai! Rest assured, your stay will be perfectly pleasant -- we are the best care facility in the country! You'll be perfectly cured in no time at all.
Renji had leveled him with a heated glare and told him that he was perfectly sane and they were the ones who needed help, help for their terminal stupidity and sticking their noses in other peoples' business, and it was Mr. Abarai to him, and he, Mr. Rest Assured Your Stay Will be Fucking Well Pleasant, could just go and fuck himself with his fancy-ass gentleman's cane.
Since then, Mr. Comfort, Hospitality and Consideration had said only the briefest, most cursory words, which suited Renji just fine. Although it would have been nicer to get some reaction out of him than a twitch of the nose and a cool, polite stare -- a blazing row would have been satisfying at this point in time. As it was, he stared out the window, resting his shoulder against the wall of the carriage, his forehead pressed against the cool glass. The scenery whirled by -- vibrant greens of wide rolling fields, dark rich greens of hedges, hedges everywhere, the soft white and pastels of the country homes, and sure it was beautiful but Renji didn't give a fuck. It was a prison in green, and against the green there was nowhere to hide the red bleed of his fury and most of all his abnormality.
At least, he thought, they had conceded him rolls of white bandaging with which to bind his chest, and the reminder of everything that had happened, the reminder of the policemen's stares, incredulous my god it's a girl, sent a stab of shame through him and summoned the rough angry words he had flung at them that time to his tongue once more. But Renji couldn't speak, couldn't just start shouting in the dark silent carriage, or it would only seal the case -- she's crazy, quite crazy, starts shouting at walls for no reason...! So there was no outlet for the seething, roiling rage, the fuck you all!, the let me go god damn you!, and so it all lay thickly unreleased, an ocean of lava in his heart.
Renji didn't look up as the carriage stopped, didn't look up as Mr. Fancy-Ass Gentleman's Cane stepped out -- nobody was addressing him, he had no reason to care. He didn't look up as Mr. The Institute Prides Itself stepped in again, didn't look up at the squealing and creaking of a gate opening. The carriage started moving again, and Renji watched as they passed by a heavy stone post, iron gate, iron wall. Trapped. The word coiled around his mind like a dragon around its hoard.
The carriage ground to a halt, and this time Mr. Best Care Facility turned to Renji and said, "Well, we have arrived, Miss Abarai." The sneering edge to the "miss" made Renji sit up, turn to him and glare, but he found himself ignored. The man got out of the carriage and went around to the other side, opening the door (something Renji could have done just fine himself, thank you very goddamn much). Renji kept up a steady glower as he stepped out. His shoes crunched against the gravel of the courtyard. The door slammed as Mr. "Miss Abarai" closed it. "This is the Institute," he said, pointing at the building before them.
"No shit," said Renji. He was ignored.
The building was large and impressive and Renji just shot it a cursory glance; no matter how nice it was it was still a prison and there was no way in hell he was ever going to be happy to be there. "Come on," said Mr. Perfectly Pleasant Stay, and started across to the impressive-looking steps and front door. After a moment, Renji followed him, glaring at his back. "One of the orderlies will show you around inside. You will be perfectly content here, Miss Abarai."
Like hell, thought Renji. Like hell! He wanted to say it, wanted to yell it, but again the knowledge that he would be digging his hole deeper held him back. He wanted to run, wanted to whirl around, wanted to find somewhere to turn, but he was trapped, bound tight, and as he stepped through the doors into what, like it or not, was going to be his new home, he knew that he should resolve something. He should find some strength of will, something to commit himself to, he should make a vow, a wish, should find something to fix himself on (I swear I'll be good, I'll make them think I'm okay, I'll get out of there -- I swear I'll be bad, I'll give them hell, there's no way they're locking me up)--
But Renji wasn't sure what he wanted.
What he was sure of, though, was that he could say, with full honesty and more than a smattering of colourful language, that he had never thought he would find himself in an insane asylum, locked up, locked away.
Characters: Abarai Renji, NPCs
Locale: The carriage ride to the Institute, the Institute
Timeframe: Late morning.
What: Renji's arrival to the Karakura Institute.
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for swearing.
Of all the things he thought would ever happen to him, Abarai Renji could say, with full honesty and more than a smattering of colourful language, that being locked up in an insane asylum was not one of them.
It was bizarre. It was just wrong. Renji couldn't stop thinking about it, couldn't stop beating his mind against the thick iron bars of hopelessness and confinement, like a bird beating its wings against its cage until they bled. Except his wings were powered by anger and when his wings tore the anger bled into his mind and made his skin hot and prickly and made his scowl deepen and shoulders tense and jaw clench. His fist curled, and yearned for some hard surface to connect with, and no matter how hard he tightened it he couldn't hold on to his freedom and could only watch it slip away between his fingers like sand.
It was wrong and it wasn't right and it wasn't fair, but what had he expected anyways? Understanding? Justice?
But the knowledge that the world had no heart and that the odds were stacked against him wasn't a comfort; it was just a cold metal knot at the bottom of his heart, a wet gray blanket of gloom cast over him.
The wheels of the carriage rattled against the road, the horses' hooves clip-clop, clip-clopped. Next to him sat the man whose name Renji had not bothered to remember -- a representative of the Institute, he had said, sent to take Renji there and make sure that her journey was smooth and comfortable. The Institute prides itself on its comfort, hospitality and consideration to its patients, Miss Abarai! Rest assured, your stay will be perfectly pleasant -- we are the best care facility in the country! You'll be perfectly cured in no time at all.
Renji had leveled him with a heated glare and told him that he was perfectly sane and they were the ones who needed help, help for their terminal stupidity and sticking their noses in other peoples' business, and it was Mr. Abarai to him, and he, Mr. Rest Assured Your Stay Will be Fucking Well Pleasant, could just go and fuck himself with his fancy-ass gentleman's cane.
Since then, Mr. Comfort, Hospitality and Consideration had said only the briefest, most cursory words, which suited Renji just fine. Although it would have been nicer to get some reaction out of him than a twitch of the nose and a cool, polite stare -- a blazing row would have been satisfying at this point in time. As it was, he stared out the window, resting his shoulder against the wall of the carriage, his forehead pressed against the cool glass. The scenery whirled by -- vibrant greens of wide rolling fields, dark rich greens of hedges, hedges everywhere, the soft white and pastels of the country homes, and sure it was beautiful but Renji didn't give a fuck. It was a prison in green, and against the green there was nowhere to hide the red bleed of his fury and most of all his abnormality.
At least, he thought, they had conceded him rolls of white bandaging with which to bind his chest, and the reminder of everything that had happened, the reminder of the policemen's stares, incredulous my god it's a girl, sent a stab of shame through him and summoned the rough angry words he had flung at them that time to his tongue once more. But Renji couldn't speak, couldn't just start shouting in the dark silent carriage, or it would only seal the case -- she's crazy, quite crazy, starts shouting at walls for no reason...! So there was no outlet for the seething, roiling rage, the fuck you all!, the let me go god damn you!, and so it all lay thickly unreleased, an ocean of lava in his heart.
Renji didn't look up as the carriage stopped, didn't look up as Mr. Fancy-Ass Gentleman's Cane stepped out -- nobody was addressing him, he had no reason to care. He didn't look up as Mr. The Institute Prides Itself stepped in again, didn't look up at the squealing and creaking of a gate opening. The carriage started moving again, and Renji watched as they passed by a heavy stone post, iron gate, iron wall. Trapped. The word coiled around his mind like a dragon around its hoard.
The carriage ground to a halt, and this time Mr. Best Care Facility turned to Renji and said, "Well, we have arrived, Miss Abarai." The sneering edge to the "miss" made Renji sit up, turn to him and glare, but he found himself ignored. The man got out of the carriage and went around to the other side, opening the door (something Renji could have done just fine himself, thank you very goddamn much). Renji kept up a steady glower as he stepped out. His shoes crunched against the gravel of the courtyard. The door slammed as Mr. "Miss Abarai" closed it. "This is the Institute," he said, pointing at the building before them.
"No shit," said Renji. He was ignored.
The building was large and impressive and Renji just shot it a cursory glance; no matter how nice it was it was still a prison and there was no way in hell he was ever going to be happy to be there. "Come on," said Mr. Perfectly Pleasant Stay, and started across to the impressive-looking steps and front door. After a moment, Renji followed him, glaring at his back. "One of the orderlies will show you around inside. You will be perfectly content here, Miss Abarai."
Like hell, thought Renji. Like hell! He wanted to say it, wanted to yell it, but again the knowledge that he would be digging his hole deeper held him back. He wanted to run, wanted to whirl around, wanted to find somewhere to turn, but he was trapped, bound tight, and as he stepped through the doors into what, like it or not, was going to be his new home, he knew that he should resolve something. He should find some strength of will, something to commit himself to, he should make a vow, a wish, should find something to fix himself on (I swear I'll be good, I'll make them think I'm okay, I'll get out of there -- I swear I'll be bad, I'll give them hell, there's no way they're locking me up)--
But Renji wasn't sure what he wanted.
What he was sure of, though, was that he could say, with full honesty and more than a smattering of colourful language, that he had never thought he would find himself in an insane asylum, locked up, locked away.