(no subject)
[Private]
[back in his old tower room for now and on his bed, Lavi has his arms behind his head and his uncovered eye shut.
The castle's really got a knack for pushing the right buttons to get to people and letting it build up. He can't exactly pretend it didn't get him, too.
After reaching alias number forty-nine by sixteen and every different log that went with each of his previous ones, he shouldn't be too fazed by being made to play an alternate version of himself (of 'Lavi'? He seriously can't tell anymore) for two weeks - considering the way it went overall during that time, he should just find it funny or something, maybe make some joking comment about the fact that the castle decided to call that Lavi's mother 'Lavinia'.
But after just two weeks, he's got years of fake memories that still feel pretty damn real now and somehow it's hard to separate them from himself. Lavi Yuriev from 21st century Canada, someone who was never anyone but that. Lavi, the next Bookman and currently an Exorcist, someone who'd wanted to be nothing but a Bookman. Technically, they could have been the same thing, temporary identities to slip on and then off again.
All of it shouldn't be a big deal. Like everywhere else he's gone - towns, battlefields, lives - this should be, is just another place to pass through, no matter what he's come to think and feel.
Lavi throws one of his arms across his face, leaves it there for a few moments, then takes it away again to shove his fingers into his hair. They stay there until he finally reaches for his journal, opening it to find this page. AND ENDING THIS TL;DR.]
[Yuu]
Thanks.
[a pause of contemplating whether he should mention to Kanda that he saw his name in that weird Mayfield newspaper, but since that's all he knows and it could be nothing relevant, he decides against it]
[back in his old tower room for now and on his bed, Lavi has his arms behind his head and his uncovered eye shut.
The castle's really got a knack for pushing the right buttons to get to people and letting it build up. He can't exactly pretend it didn't get him, too.
After reaching alias number forty-nine by sixteen and every different log that went with each of his previous ones, he shouldn't be too fazed by being made to play an alternate version of himself (of 'Lavi'? He seriously can't tell anymore) for two weeks - considering the way it went overall during that time, he should just find it funny or something, maybe make some joking comment about the fact that the castle decided to call that Lavi's mother 'Lavinia'.
But after just two weeks, he's got years of fake memories that still feel pretty damn real now and somehow it's hard to separate them from himself. Lavi Yuriev from 21st century Canada, someone who was never anyone but that. Lavi, the next Bookman and currently an Exorcist, someone who'd wanted to be nothing but a Bookman. Technically, they could have been the same thing, temporary identities to slip on and then off again.
All of it shouldn't be a big deal. Like everywhere else he's gone - towns, battlefields, lives - this should be, is just another place to pass through, no matter what he's come to think and feel.
Lavi throws one of his arms across his face, leaves it there for a few moments, then takes it away again to shove his fingers into his hair. They stay there until he finally reaches for his journal, opening it to find this page. AND ENDING THIS TL;DR.]
[Yuu]
Thanks.
[a pause of contemplating whether he should mention to Kanda that he saw his name in that weird Mayfield newspaper, but since that's all he knows and it could be nothing relevant, he decides against it]