[open] Time it is past and I roam free
Who: lumenrelegandus and anyone
When: Early in the week
Where: The dojo, the streets, the path toward the Ruins and/or Hunting Grounds.
Format: Prose
What: As if any loss weren't bad on its own, sometimes it opens up past ones.
Warnings: I'm being bad for posting a new log without doing any tags for ongoing threads! I have company for a few days and am semi-slowatused, but I promise everything will be caught up with very soon! This occurred irresistibly and spilled out very quickly-it felt needed.
Lupin didn't need anyone to tell him Sakura was gone.
He arrived at the dojo that morning well before the start of any of his appointments to meet her for tea, as they had every week since becoming colleagues.
He didn't seek out Naruto to ask after her when he couldn't find her. He went through the day of lessons with the back of his mind switched firmly off. Even River could not have opened it for him. When the last student had gone home, and the day's sunlight had changed several times over, he went back to her rooms to confirm what he had observed but hadn't processed the first time.
There was evidence of absence; none more powerful than the feeling. Does a room still belong to someone when they aren't in them? Yes. Does a room still belong to someone when they're no longer in the world of the room? No.
He started walking home on rote. He got as far as the front door the row house he and Io shared with a half-deaf neighbour; got up the stairs and to the door of the flat he shared with Io. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob.
He turned around and walked outside again.
He couldn't see Io. Couldn't smell her. Couldn't touch her.
The park loomed as a destination but he shied away as if it burned. Too much a part of his everyday life, too many people living everyday lives. Changed his path to aim out to the Ruins. There was no Forbidden Forest to be buried in here; Mist and stone would have to do.
He stood at the crossroads; the point at which he had to pick a direction, either into the deeper ruins or toward the hunting grounds, or back into the city.
He thought of finding a gutted building and casting wild magick until he was as hollow as the structure, or brought it down around him. He thought of throwing himself into Moony and hurtling into the hunting grounds, playing tag with hunters or being one himself. He thought of turning home and killing this dreadful feeling inside with numbness and alcohol and Io.
She's not Dora. She was never Dora. DO NOT CONFUSE HER WITH-
I know who she is.
I know who she was.
When: Early in the week
Where: The dojo, the streets, the path toward the Ruins and/or Hunting Grounds.
Format: Prose
What: As if any loss weren't bad on its own, sometimes it opens up past ones.
Warnings: I'm being bad for posting a new log without doing any tags for ongoing threads! I have company for a few days and am semi-slowatused, but I promise everything will be caught up with very soon! This occurred irresistibly and spilled out very quickly-it felt needed.
Lupin didn't need anyone to tell him Sakura was gone.
He arrived at the dojo that morning well before the start of any of his appointments to meet her for tea, as they had every week since becoming colleagues.
He didn't seek out Naruto to ask after her when he couldn't find her. He went through the day of lessons with the back of his mind switched firmly off. Even River could not have opened it for him. When the last student had gone home, and the day's sunlight had changed several times over, he went back to her rooms to confirm what he had observed but hadn't processed the first time.
There was evidence of absence; none more powerful than the feeling. Does a room still belong to someone when they aren't in them? Yes. Does a room still belong to someone when they're no longer in the world of the room? No.
He started walking home on rote. He got as far as the front door the row house he and Io shared with a half-deaf neighbour; got up the stairs and to the door of the flat he shared with Io. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob.
He turned around and walked outside again.
He couldn't see Io. Couldn't smell her. Couldn't touch her.
The park loomed as a destination but he shied away as if it burned. Too much a part of his everyday life, too many people living everyday lives. Changed his path to aim out to the Ruins. There was no Forbidden Forest to be buried in here; Mist and stone would have to do.
He stood at the crossroads; the point at which he had to pick a direction, either into the deeper ruins or toward the hunting grounds, or back into the city.
He thought of finding a gutted building and casting wild magick until he was as hollow as the structure, or brought it down around him. He thought of throwing himself into Moony and hurtling into the hunting grounds, playing tag with hunters or being one himself. He thought of turning home and killing this dreadful feeling inside with numbness and alcohol and Io.
She's not Dora. She was never Dora. DO NOT CONFUSE HER WITH-
I know who she is.
I know who she was.