Hear You Me (Active/Closed)

[sleepy_fire]

Characters: Ace, Machi, Yukimi
Setting: Cricket Bedroom
Time: Day 14
Summary: There is such as too much music. Machi can smell your blood.
Warnings: Yukimi and Ace? Machi being defensive. This thread will contain bickering.

Comments

[stfu_im_writing]

Yukimi wished he could be as appreciative of the musicbox as Ace was. He got it too, that it had a calming effect on Machi when nothing else had worked. And he was glad; it was nice to see Machi calm for once. He just wished it wasn't courtesy of something that grated on his nerves so much. The music itself wasn't great to begin with.

Okay. Understatement. The music was like fingernails down the blackboard of his soul. It was just slightly off-key, and had that tinny quality to it that all musicboxes had, and maybe that was supposed to be part of its charm but it was driving him crazy. It wouldn't be so bad if it was just one continuous stream that he could adjust to and tune out. But no. It started, slowed down, stopped, then there was a slight pause and it'd start again... it was like Chinese water torture

[machitobaye]

If Machi had felt Yukimi's perceived dissonance, had heard or felt anything off key, he appeared not to notice or care, instead winding and rewinding the box over and over in silence for hours, losing himself in the song and the comfortable, protective pattern of repetition. In all fairness, he usually chose to wind the box before its song ended, preferring the brief, disjointed hiccup in melody to it cutting off comoletely. Its haunting, eerie refrain comfortaed him, touching something delicate, something raw and painful deep under the fracture and ache of his body and head, leaving him not whole, not human or peaceable or mended, but empty, capable of falling under the dark tide of agony and into a thick, sound-shaped void where he could be nothing

[sleepy_fire]

Ace started a bit at the sound of Yukimi's voice, eyes opening and then narrowing in confusion.

He wasn't sure what was going on, but the relaxed fog was fading. In it's place was utter disbelief and some sort of twisted irritation, quiet enough that he could ignore it. And then, annoyance, annoyance that made him bare his teeth and stiffen in the bed, eyes narrowing further. Not quite threat, ot yet, but irritation and annoyance and out.

Machi was irritated. Machi was feeling these things. He wasn't. He could feel them, but they weren't his.

Ace felt the faint whine build in his throat, wanting the return of the calm, he had almost been asleep. It had been a near thing, he hadn't almost been asleep and he wanted that. "Leave 'im alone, s'nice." Oh, his voice was slurring again. Musta gotten too cold. he was pretty sure he'd been completely covered, but apparently not...or he'd been closer to sleep than he thought.

[stfu_im_writing]

Yukimi was used to Machi making that sort of face at him. Well. Okay,o s 'that sort of face' was actually a complete lack of emotion, but he knew what it meant and he was used to it. And if he felt bad at all about disturbing Machi, it was pretty much drowned out by his annoyance at how Machi had been disturbing him for so much longer. But Ace's objection-- he should've expected it, probably. The guy had a soft spot for everyone who showed even the slightest bit of vulnerability, and Machi was sort of an emotional and physical train wreck. Yukimi, on the other hand, had escaped... unharmed. So really, he shouldn't be complaining.

So he understood, and he wasn't about to snap back at Ace, but that didn't mean he didn't value his sanity, and if he spent one more sleepless minute with this musicbox, he was going to lose it. He heaved a long-suffering sigh and wordlessly collected a pillow and a blanket and headed for the door. Just for a few hours, he had to find another bed, or a couch, or even just a nice patch of floor, someplace not

[machitobaye]

If Yukimi thought his annoyance was going unfelt, he was wrong--Machi flinched slightly at this spike of it, and his brow furrowing a little as it pulled him, shifting him out of the depth, misaligning him further and leaving him dijointed, unsettled. Something was wrong. He moved, his fingers tightening around the lacquered edges of the wooden box, his mouth opening as though to say something--but nothing came out and he pulled back, his face creasing in distress and brows coming together as he watched Yukimi leave, unable to pinpoint it, the discord, the sudden agitation and anger and need--

--but something was wrong.