shake me out of these chains, lead me not to temptation (closed)
Who: raketen, sandrocker
When: May 4th, late afternoon
Where: District 2 and residential District 1
Format: action
What: Alfons is a nice person, while Quatre is totally insane. This means friendship!!
Warnings: Injury, not graphic.
[by now, desperate and frantic searching through every nook and cranny of anatole is familiar. it had started calmly enough - this is heero he is worried for, after all. but then, his sight glazed, and it was only going through a cycle of motions. he reassured himself: it's not unlike heero to disappear without a word, but quatre knows that feeling, that presence, that half. so he started again, but his hands shook, and his throat felt tight, and his stomach felt as though it had dropped to the ground.
heero is just a tally mark of people quatre knows that have left, only a name on that damn memorial tree.
it was anger first, and that's why he yelled. at natives, a group of men talking something he can't even remember. he can't even remember if it was justified. he remembers he did, and it lead to fists flying. three to one isn't a very fair match, but hey, he managed. lost but managed.
and now that the aggression is out, quatre is sitting on an empty shop step, nursing his bruising ribs and knuckles. the split lip isn't so bad. if the rest of his face is bruised, he doesn't notice, but the half-circles of sleep deprivation might mislead.
and yeah, he looks on the verge of tears. you wish you were that manly.]
When: May 4th, late afternoon
Where: District 2 and residential District 1
Format: action
What: Alfons is a nice person, while Quatre is totally insane. This means friendship!!
Warnings: Injury, not graphic.
[by now, desperate and frantic searching through every nook and cranny of anatole is familiar. it had started calmly enough - this is heero he is worried for, after all. but then, his sight glazed, and it was only going through a cycle of motions. he reassured himself: it's not unlike heero to disappear without a word, but quatre knows that feeling, that presence, that half. so he started again, but his hands shook, and his throat felt tight, and his stomach felt as though it had dropped to the ground.
heero is just a tally mark of people quatre knows that have left, only a name on that damn memorial tree.
it was anger first, and that's why he yelled. at natives, a group of men talking something he can't even remember. he can't even remember if it was justified. he remembers he did, and it lead to fists flying. three to one isn't a very fair match, but hey, he managed. lost but managed.
and now that the aggression is out, quatre is sitting on an empty shop step, nursing his bruising ribs and knuckles. the split lip isn't so bad. if the rest of his face is bruised, he doesn't notice, but the half-circles of sleep deprivation might mislead.
and yeah, he looks on the verge of tears. you wish you were that manly.]