Well I think I'm gonna burn in hell.
Day: 13.
Characters: Axel [fiery_finale] ; Miles Edgeworth [mentis_reae] ; Farfarello [redlamb]
Summary: Axel has started a bonfire in his room, made of mattress and books. Edgeworth is going to try to talk him out of it. Note: Open to anyone who wants to see a bonfire, really. Especially open to Farfarello, as he's in the room.
DAY/NIGHT & Time: Night, when the doors are open.
Status: Open ; Incomplete.
There was always a blaze. The walls, they were just too cramped, too compact. So what did he do?
He blew them out. Bodies burning, building crumbling, and behind him as he walked away was a gorgeous blaze. Maybe he had actual friends in there, but in his trancelike state, it never occured to him to look.
All he knew was that this time, he made everything burn, and had gotten out of it without a scratch. It was a glorious thought, the idea of that freedom.
But it'd only ever come to him in his dreams. For the past two nights, he'd had the same dream. There seemed to be a pattern to it, as he started having the dream when Roxas wasn't around anymore. Ever since he left, Axel had been quiet, brooding in his room, itching for release.
The dream helped fuel the subdued fire in him, and finally, he reached a point where he couldn't take it anymore. Using the mattress that was currently located on the floor, he collected what left of his matches and went about with a delicate procedure, trying to set the mattress ablaze. It was difficult, working with the small sticks and nothing to ignite it with, and seemed horrible mundane, but it got the job done.
So, he sat back to watch his handiwork, leaning against the wall opposite of it and feeding it the pile of books he had ganked from the library ages ago. Farfarello had poked fun at the endeavor, but Axel was having an adrenaline rush. A pang surged in his gut, a feeling of longing. What he wouldn't give to be in the flames. Thanks to the medicine, though, his immunity to it was gone.
Still, he was satisfied, sitting across the room in the vibrant orange glow of it, the heat licking at his face, the flames dancing in his eyes. Distracted, he almost forgot that he had a guest coming, possibly more than one depending on how fast word spread.
"Wish we had some marshmallows," he shot to Farfarello, clearly amused. It seemed like a joke to him, but as his diagnosis dictated, it was so much more.
It was a rush, release. No one would understand that, though, and being Axel, he hoped they never would.
Characters: Axel [fiery_finale] ; Miles Edgeworth [mentis_reae] ; Farfarello [redlamb]
Summary: Axel has started a bonfire in his room, made of mattress and books. Edgeworth is going to try to talk him out of it. Note: Open to anyone who wants to see a bonfire, really. Especially open to Farfarello, as he's in the room.
DAY/NIGHT & Time: Night, when the doors are open.
Status: Open ; Incomplete.
There was always a blaze. The walls, they were just too cramped, too compact. So what did he do?
He blew them out. Bodies burning, building crumbling, and behind him as he walked away was a gorgeous blaze. Maybe he had actual friends in there, but in his trancelike state, it never occured to him to look.
All he knew was that this time, he made everything burn, and had gotten out of it without a scratch. It was a glorious thought, the idea of that freedom.
But it'd only ever come to him in his dreams. For the past two nights, he'd had the same dream. There seemed to be a pattern to it, as he started having the dream when Roxas wasn't around anymore. Ever since he left, Axel had been quiet, brooding in his room, itching for release.
The dream helped fuel the subdued fire in him, and finally, he reached a point where he couldn't take it anymore. Using the mattress that was currently located on the floor, he collected what left of his matches and went about with a delicate procedure, trying to set the mattress ablaze. It was difficult, working with the small sticks and nothing to ignite it with, and seemed horrible mundane, but it got the job done.
So, he sat back to watch his handiwork, leaning against the wall opposite of it and feeding it the pile of books he had ganked from the library ages ago. Farfarello had poked fun at the endeavor, but Axel was having an adrenaline rush. A pang surged in his gut, a feeling of longing. What he wouldn't give to be in the flames. Thanks to the medicine, though, his immunity to it was gone.
Still, he was satisfied, sitting across the room in the vibrant orange glow of it, the heat licking at his face, the flames dancing in his eyes. Distracted, he almost forgot that he had a guest coming, possibly more than one depending on how fast word spread.
"Wish we had some marshmallows," he shot to Farfarello, clearly amused. It seemed like a joke to him, but as his diagnosis dictated, it was so much more.
It was a rush, release. No one would understand that, though, and being Axel, he hoped they never would.