Tell me the reality is better than the dream...
Day: 33
Characters: Subaru Sumeragi [notafuckingcar] and Shira [cut_em_open], later joined by Momiji Fujimiya [justasacrifice]
Summary: "Morality is herd instinct in the individual." ~Nietzsche
DAY/NIGHT & Time: Day, first rec
Status: closed, incomplete
The first person Subaru had ever killed as the Sakurazukamori had been a woman. She had been young--in her twenties, a pale thing, with bright eyes and smooth black hair that reminded Subaru of something liquid pouring down her back. He'd been shaking the entire time he'd spoken with her, offered to accompany her to the subway station, but she hadn't seemed to mind--he supposed it had been because of how frail he looked, how soft-spoken he was... Surely someone like him couldn't possibly be a threat. She'd smiled at him. She'd told him her name.
Seiko. That had been it. She had been wearing an engagement ring. He'd seen it when he'd pulled his hand out of her chest, and hers had been twitching from involuntary movement as her nerves spasmed wildly in her final moments.
He'd never forget it. He'd never forget any of them. The businessman, in his late forties, with the wedding band...the child, four years old, wearing her Hello Kitty wristwatch...the old woman, who smiled in death, wearing the ring of her late husband. Their hearts had all felt different in his hand, and he wondered--if he pulled out his own, would it simply shrivel away?
No one--he couldn't share that thought with anyone. Not even Fuuma, who he trusted more than anyone else here. The younger man was too close, too involved, and...he needed something else, just now. Something different. Someone outside of the tight circle of the Seven Angels, who knew nothing of magical contracts or deals with the devil...just the visceral depths of humanity's lowest.
That was why he stood anxiously in the spot he and Shira had promised to meet, clutching the bottle of vodka the security guard had given him, and waiting.
Characters: Subaru Sumeragi [notafuckingcar] and Shira [cut_em_open], later joined by Momiji Fujimiya [justasacrifice]
Summary: "Morality is herd instinct in the individual." ~Nietzsche
DAY/NIGHT & Time: Day, first rec
Status: closed, incomplete
The first person Subaru had ever killed as the Sakurazukamori had been a woman. She had been young--in her twenties, a pale thing, with bright eyes and smooth black hair that reminded Subaru of something liquid pouring down her back. He'd been shaking the entire time he'd spoken with her, offered to accompany her to the subway station, but she hadn't seemed to mind--he supposed it had been because of how frail he looked, how soft-spoken he was... Surely someone like him couldn't possibly be a threat. She'd smiled at him. She'd told him her name.
Seiko. That had been it. She had been wearing an engagement ring. He'd seen it when he'd pulled his hand out of her chest, and hers had been twitching from involuntary movement as her nerves spasmed wildly in her final moments.
He'd never forget it. He'd never forget any of them. The businessman, in his late forties, with the wedding band...the child, four years old, wearing her Hello Kitty wristwatch...the old woman, who smiled in death, wearing the ring of her late husband. Their hearts had all felt different in his hand, and he wondered--if he pulled out his own, would it simply shrivel away?
No one--he couldn't share that thought with anyone. Not even Fuuma, who he trusted more than anyone else here. The younger man was too close, too involved, and...he needed something else, just now. Something different. Someone outside of the tight circle of the Seven Angels, who knew nothing of magical contracts or deals with the devil...just the visceral depths of humanity's lowest.
That was why he stood anxiously in the spot he and Shira had promised to meet, clutching the bottle of vodka the security guard had given him, and waiting.