When you comin' home son?
Characters: Iris/Ayame (elegantromantic ) with guest appearances by Chosen's corpse (hunny_sensor ).
Date/Time: Wednesday, December 10th, mid-afternoon.
Location: Scavenger's Yard
Rating: PG-13 for trauma, angst, bawwww and corpsicles.
Summary: Evil!Chosen told Iris to go to the Scavenger's yard. Iris did not expect what he found.
------
Iris slipped on his gloves, tucked his scarf under his coat collar, and finished buttoning his coat to his chin. The final touches were to pull up his hood and boots, and he was ready for the trek outside. It was hard to make millions of layers of fabric look fashionable, but he'd done his best.
And looking a little furmpy was preferable to turning into a snake the moment he stepped outside his door. Iris really hated the cold. It made him feel so incredibly weak and lethargic, grumpy even.
But he was determined to go find out what on earth Chosen was talking about. Leaving clothes in the Scavenger's Yard? What had gotten into him?
Journal tucked safely in his bag, Iris left his house, braving the cold to walk down to the elevator. He'd much rather be going to Argent's for a cup of tea, if he absolutely had to be going out anywhere. But he wasn't, so he folded his arms and waited for the elevator and tried not to hunch over on himself as he shivered.
The elevator ride was uneventful, depositing Iris in the dreary looking Scavenger's yard. Snow had coated most everything in a white blanket that made it look more pristine then usual, but as romantic as Iris was at heart, he couldn't find himself able to wax poetic about the beauty of fresh snow. At least, not while he was out in it. Maybe once he was inside with a mug of hot cocoa and a nice warm atmosphere he could talk about how pretty snow was.
It was mid afternoon, but there weren't even footprints in the white snow. No one had been out to the yard since the day before, at least. That would make finding clothing difficult, assuming it wasn't a wild goose chase.
Iris squared his shoulders and set his jaw. He picked a random direction, marching purposefully towards it as he looked around the white landscape.
It was only sheer dumb luck that he stumbled on something half buried by the snow. Iris fell on his hands, wincing at the jarring sensation of the fall. He crawled backwards a little, sitting up on his knees to see what he'd tripped over.
It looked like... Was that flame red hair?
Frantically, Iris brushed the snow from the half buried figure, hands flying as his heart raced with a spike of adrenaline and fear. It was hardly a moment before Chosen's face looked up at him, eyes glassy with death, COWARD painted cruelly on his forehead in... Blood? The snow underneath the freshest layer of white was red, pink, and the more Iris brushed away, the more blood there seemed to be. Everywhere.
Iris raised a hand, pressed the back of one gloved knuckle to his lips as tears blurred his vision. He felt like he was going to throw up, his stomach was heaving horribly and his heart alternately felt like it was racing too fast and like it might stop beating altogether at any moment.
"Chosen." Iris's voice was a squeak. "Chosen. Darling. Muffincakes. Wake up. Please." He whispered. Warmth was running down his cheeks, he knew he was crying and he didn't care. He knew his words were pathetic and useless, and he didn't care.
"Sweetie. Sweetie. Please talk to me. P-please. Chosen." Iris swallowed, but his mouth was dry. He leaned forward, tried to pick up the stiffened body, found it far too heavy for his shaking arms to carry. "Chosen get up!" The white-haired man screamed, almost hysterical. Or perhaps already there. "GET UP YOU LAZY... Oh god. Please. Please..."
Iris babbled incoherently, wrapped his arms around himself and rocked for a moment as he stared at the body. Chosen stared at nothing, but the word on his forehead... Iris stared at it and felt his blood slowly begin to freeze.
After some time, Iris wasn't sure how long, sense started to come back. It was snowing again, Iris wasn't sure when that had happened, but he scouted close to the body, struggled for a while with Chosen's shoulder's and head, and eventually got his friend's head and upper torso settled on his lap.
Iris brushed away the new snow that had fallen and pulled off his gloves, taking a handful of the white ice crystals and cupping them in his palms until they turned to water. The cold bit his fingers mercilessly, but he dripped the water carefully onto Chosen's cold forehead, used one of his gloves to scrub at the mocking epitaph until the word was erased. Iris was gentle, though he knew Chosen couldn't feel it one way or another. He was still crying, he realized, when hot tears dripped onto his own freezing fingers.
He needed help. He'd write in the journals and ask for it soon. As soon as he could. But for the moment, Iris just held his friend and mourned.
Date/Time: Wednesday, December 10th, mid-afternoon.
Location: Scavenger's Yard
Rating: PG-13 for trauma, angst, bawwww and corpsicles.
Summary: Evil!Chosen told Iris to go to the Scavenger's yard. Iris did not expect what he found.
------
Iris slipped on his gloves, tucked his scarf under his coat collar, and finished buttoning his coat to his chin. The final touches were to pull up his hood and boots, and he was ready for the trek outside. It was hard to make millions of layers of fabric look fashionable, but he'd done his best.
And looking a little furmpy was preferable to turning into a snake the moment he stepped outside his door. Iris really hated the cold. It made him feel so incredibly weak and lethargic, grumpy even.
But he was determined to go find out what on earth Chosen was talking about. Leaving clothes in the Scavenger's Yard? What had gotten into him?
Journal tucked safely in his bag, Iris left his house, braving the cold to walk down to the elevator. He'd much rather be going to Argent's for a cup of tea, if he absolutely had to be going out anywhere. But he wasn't, so he folded his arms and waited for the elevator and tried not to hunch over on himself as he shivered.
The elevator ride was uneventful, depositing Iris in the dreary looking Scavenger's yard. Snow had coated most everything in a white blanket that made it look more pristine then usual, but as romantic as Iris was at heart, he couldn't find himself able to wax poetic about the beauty of fresh snow. At least, not while he was out in it. Maybe once he was inside with a mug of hot cocoa and a nice warm atmosphere he could talk about how pretty snow was.
It was mid afternoon, but there weren't even footprints in the white snow. No one had been out to the yard since the day before, at least. That would make finding clothing difficult, assuming it wasn't a wild goose chase.
Iris squared his shoulders and set his jaw. He picked a random direction, marching purposefully towards it as he looked around the white landscape.
It was only sheer dumb luck that he stumbled on something half buried by the snow. Iris fell on his hands, wincing at the jarring sensation of the fall. He crawled backwards a little, sitting up on his knees to see what he'd tripped over.
It looked like... Was that flame red hair?
Frantically, Iris brushed the snow from the half buried figure, hands flying as his heart raced with a spike of adrenaline and fear. It was hardly a moment before Chosen's face looked up at him, eyes glassy with death, COWARD painted cruelly on his forehead in... Blood? The snow underneath the freshest layer of white was red, pink, and the more Iris brushed away, the more blood there seemed to be. Everywhere.
Iris raised a hand, pressed the back of one gloved knuckle to his lips as tears blurred his vision. He felt like he was going to throw up, his stomach was heaving horribly and his heart alternately felt like it was racing too fast and like it might stop beating altogether at any moment.
"Chosen." Iris's voice was a squeak. "Chosen. Darling. Muffincakes. Wake up. Please." He whispered. Warmth was running down his cheeks, he knew he was crying and he didn't care. He knew his words were pathetic and useless, and he didn't care.
"Sweetie. Sweetie. Please talk to me. P-please. Chosen." Iris swallowed, but his mouth was dry. He leaned forward, tried to pick up the stiffened body, found it far too heavy for his shaking arms to carry. "Chosen get up!" The white-haired man screamed, almost hysterical. Or perhaps already there. "GET UP YOU LAZY... Oh god. Please. Please..."
Iris babbled incoherently, wrapped his arms around himself and rocked for a moment as he stared at the body. Chosen stared at nothing, but the word on his forehead... Iris stared at it and felt his blood slowly begin to freeze.
After some time, Iris wasn't sure how long, sense started to come back. It was snowing again, Iris wasn't sure when that had happened, but he scouted close to the body, struggled for a while with Chosen's shoulder's and head, and eventually got his friend's head and upper torso settled on his lap.
Iris brushed away the new snow that had fallen and pulled off his gloves, taking a handful of the white ice crystals and cupping them in his palms until they turned to water. The cold bit his fingers mercilessly, but he dripped the water carefully onto Chosen's cold forehead, used one of his gloves to scrub at the mocking epitaph until the word was erased. Iris was gentle, though he knew Chosen couldn't feel it one way or another. He was still crying, he realized, when hot tears dripped onto his own freezing fingers.
He needed help. He'd write in the journals and ask for it soon. As soon as he could. But for the moment, Iris just held his friend and mourned.