Comments | meddling_mage: IV-SHARP OBJECTS!!!-[Accidental Video Post]

meddling_mage

IV-SHARP OBJECTS!!!-[Accidental Video Post]

Jun 05, 2009 21:15

[The feed begins, showing a view of a portion of the kitchen ceiling, as well as a view up along the front of Jace's torso from the underside. He is leaning over the camera, which he has accidentally turned on, rummaging in a cabinet for something. He pulls out a glass and puts it down. He then moves out of camera range. Indistinct noises can be ( Read more... )

event!memory swap, fakir's memory, sharp objects, homg what the hell?!

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a_necromancer June 6 2009, 01:47:40 UTC

Jace? Are you alright? Hold on, I'm coming.

[Voice] meddling_mage June 6 2009, 02:22:25 UTC

Who-who's there?!

Re: [Voice] a_necromancer June 6 2009, 02:29:04 UTC

It's Anita. We had drinks together a day or two ago, remember? You had tea and I had coffee. Now, tell me, are you alright?

Re: [Voice] meddling_mage June 6 2009, 02:38:36 UTC

No...I...I dont think I am....I....

Re: [Voice] a_necromancer June 6 2009, 02:55:53 UTC

OK, you just sit tight. I'm on my way.

[muttered] See? Fucking with our minds. I knew something shitty was gonna happen.

[log] a_necromancer June 6 2009, 04:14:11 UTC

Anita knew that someone like Jace wouldn't scare easily, and though she didn't entirely trust him, she didn't want him hurt. Letting out a constant stream of swear words harsh enough to melt butter, Anita grabbed her holster and gun, checked its magazine, and bolted from her room. Anita slung on the shoulder straps on as she jogged, silently grateful she'd worn a t-shirt instead of her usual tank top.

With paranoia born of hard survival, she skittered to a stop at the doorway to the kitchen, and called out. "Jace? You in there?" Peeking around the corner wearily, her acquaintance was not immediately visible.

Re: [log] meddling_mage June 6 2009, 05:02:28 UTC

In all his experience, Jace Beleren had felt the icy grip of fear numerous times. This time however, it wasn't icy so much as damp, and it smelled strongly of mint tea. Shuddering, buried his head in the back of his knees and cupped his palms to the base of his skull. He then did his best to focus on soft things, things without edges.

Eggs. Eggs had no edges at all. Eggs were soothing and calming in their roundness.

But eggs could break. Everything could break. With the slightest amount of pressure one could break the shell of an egg. What made him so different? With the right amount of pressure the human skin could be split as well.

With a horrified shriek he was sure to be ashamed of later, Jace sat bolt upright, stared at the puddle of glass that had once been the teacup, and tried to will himself not to become catatonic. His reason, however, was failing.

He jumped at the sound of Anita's voice, and slowly willed words up and out of his frozen throat. "Yes."

Re: [log] a_necromancer June 6 2009, 05:28:27 UTC

The fear in Jace's voice did not immediately seem to have a corporeal cause, and as such, Anita slowly moved inside the room, ready to draw her gun at the slightest threat. As she moved forward, Anita kept her gaze constantly sweeping around the room, finally letting it rest on Jace, and the remnants of his cup. Confusion showed in the pale oval of her face, her dark brows lifting ceilingwards.

"Hey. You hurt?" Anita's voice was soft, in an attempt to ease the terror doing laps in Jace's watery blue eyes. The dark stains on his clothes seemed to be nothing more than tea, the smell of mint hinting at what type, and there seemed to be no evidence of a struggle, otherwise. With only a moment's hesitation, the necromancer extended a hand towards the moist man, offering aid.

Re: [log] meddling_mage June 7 2009, 17:40:19 UTC

Jace stared at her bleakly. With her dark hair, keen, eyes and pale skin she looked vaguely like his lost Liliana, the woman he'd sworn to protect. How could he have forgotten his destiny, his duty, the source of his woes. Grimicing he fought back tears and muttered to himself.

"She's not here. I swore I would protect her...Even if it means....Even if it means I die...by .....," he swallowed hard. "Impalement."

Casting a frightened glance at the shattered remains of the cup, he then squelched his eyes shut and levered himself up with Anita's aid.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I appear to have made a terrible mess and wasted good tea."

Re: [log] a_necromancer June 7 2009, 18:05:37 UTC

Though she tried valiantly, Anita failed to keep the incredulous bafflement off her face. What the hell was he going on about? Though some of the shards of cup might have been painful to a misplaced foot, they were hardly enough to cause death by impalement, of all things. Being claustrophobic herself, Anita knew a thing or two about phobias, but a terror born of broken dishware was definitely something unique.

After she helped him to his feet, Anita caught Jace's eyes and was shocked to see in them the glassy look of tears unshed. Anita hated tears. The gloopy sadness they implied was something she'd have done veritably anything to prevent or fix. "Well..." She started, lamely. "Maybe she'll get here eventually. I'm still waiting for someone from my world to show up ( ... )

Re: [log] meddling_mage June 8 2009, 20:46:34 UTC

Jace despised blubbering and usually avoided it at all costs. It was something characteristic to histerical women in throws of dispair over this or that lost love, it was not something grown men found themselves resorting to. He therefor chastised himself throroughly for being such a weepy sop. The memory was to blame; the sudden overwhelming parade that had flooded his mind with knights pierced by lances and cut down by swords ( ... )

Re: [log] a_necromancer June 13 2009, 01:41:16 UTC

Somewhat inept at comfort that did not include reassuring death threats, Anita did not know what to say to make Jace feel a single lick better. The vaguely hysterical man baffled Anita with his actions, especially considering the more coolheaded demeanor he had displayed upon first meeting. Shards safely disposed of, Anita stood and wiped her tea-wet hands on the front of her jeans. She glanced around, and grabbed the nearest set of paper towels to wipe up the the liquid, along with any remaining slivers of mug.

At his self-deprecation, Anita halted her work, and gave Jace an eyebrow cock. "Just a little. Why are you so freaky-deaky over this? Hell, I threw my own cup at you the first time we met, and you didn't dissolve into the weepies - what's different?" Though the statement lacked tact, Anita congratulated herself on not mentioning the Teflon-like grip of Jace's mind. He was acting radically different from what she'd seen before, and though Anita had no way to tell, she didn't feel as though she, herself, was behaving out ( ... )

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