Who: Daisya Barry and anyone else
What: Daisya is outside trying to figure out why his Innocence isn't working at full power.
Where: Behind the house- as far from it as he dares to get, really, so he doesn't break anything.
When: October 2, Late afternoon, 1928
Rating and Warnings: PG? Daisya swears a lot.
(
No matter how hard he tried, it wasn't the same. )
Comments 28
The knowledge that an entire portion of his life effectively didn't exist--that no one in his world ever knew that he'd been stuck in the Ark, left behind to claw his way out--was hard to come to terms with. Kanda had had to cope with erasures of his past before, but this felt different. No one had contrived to do this, and no one had lied about it. It was simply as though he'd been left behind by history. It had forgotten and gone on without him...or with some other version of him. He really wasn't very clear on how that worked ( ... )
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"You're supposed to be dead."
It wasn't a particularly useful thing to have said, he realized as he watched Daisya put the Bell back on his hood just like he'd seen him do a hundred times before. It was just one thing too many in that day, after what he'd learned from Allen, after seeing Lenalee, and an edge of defensive anger crept into his voice. "I saw your body! We took you down! You're supposed to be dead!"
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He felt bad for Kanda, honestly, because the look in his eyes was one of a man who'd seen just a bit too much for the day- he recognized it from when they were doing their first missions. "It's okay, though," he said quietly, walking closer and tipping his chin up to look at the other Exorcist. "'m not dead- 'm stuck here in this place with you, so all we gotta do is wait for Marie an' we'll decide what t'do next."
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When he saw that it was just a man -- rather queerly dressed, but they'd come from different times, haven't they? -- he felt rather relieved; though the fact that he was attempting to blow up the blocks of wood without modern weaponry, or any kind of weaponry he recognizes, is a little alarming. He can only hope that it's some kind of stress-reliever ( ... )
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He gestures to the thing in his hand. "Is that a toy?"
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