wildsaber: (♪ should i tell him or -)
ʟᴜᴋᴇ ғᴏɴ ғᴀʙʀᴇ || lost child ([personal profile] wildsaber) wrote2014-04-25 01:03 am

02 ♪ written/action ♪ weak and powerless

[written;]

[After the excitement of the past couple weeks, Luke is ready to call it quits. Everyone except him seemed to be under some kind of curse, or something... Shifts? Yes, that's what it was called. Whatever the reason, things have been hectic and weird and confusing and he's ready for things to go back to normal.

But... he hasn't seen Guy around, not before the Shifts happened nor afterward. No notes were left behind, no nothing. He thought maybe Guy just needed some space (despite how hard he had clung to Luke in the snow)-- but this is suspicious, and he's wondering if maybe... maybe, he went home.

It takes him a while to muster up the courage to open the journal. He can't trust his voice not to shake, so he tries writing in it instead.]


Hi, everyone. This is Luke.

For those who know him, Guy's not here anymore. I haven't seen him since before things got weird. He would never leave without telling someone, and we sleep in the same room, so I would've known if he got taken somewhere.

[He tries to think of something else to say. It's weird to think that Guy isn't here. Guy is always here, through everything. He was there when Luke said goodbye and he was there when Luke said hello, too.

Still, seeing it in front of him just cements it. He feels his reserves crumble a little. He's a little angry, even though he has no right to be. Guy would never leave unless he was forced to, he knows that, but... he's still mad at someone. Mad at the Malnosso. Luke wants to be home, laughing and traveling with Guy and his friends. Now Guy has to be-- be somewhere else, without Luke. Maybe even without knowing he's alive.]


... I'm sorry.

[He leaves it at that and closes the journal.]

[action;]

[In the end, Luke doesn't go too far. He's in the woods behind House One, curled up against the gnarled face of a big tree. His knees are pulled to his chest, his head resting on his arms.

His eyes are closed, but he's not asleep. He can't sleep in the middle of the day, and especially not when he's caught up wondering what happened to his best friend.]
dissonates: <user name=fontech> (I won't say that it hurts.)

[like the fonics monkey]

[personal profile] dissonates 2014-05-17 08:28 am (UTC)(link)
...I know about the curse slot.

[There's too much emotion in that phrase, and it's difficult to rein it in. Being murdered can do that to a person. And the emptiness in Guy's eyes, the sound of Sync laughing, is something he'll never forget.]

And I don't think I can believe that anymore. Maybe once, I could have, but-

[It's too much. He knows too much now, about love and hatred and friendship and revenge. He's seen sides of Guy that he couldn't fathom as a child, or even just a few years ago. Not even when Van had told him about Guy's origins had he imagined how much unknown hatred lay between their family names.]

I don't expect him to ever want to be my friend. And that's fine. I don't need it.
dissonates: <lj site="livejournal.com" user="fuckyeahfish"> (i don't know how to tell you)

[luke can use that he could learn ancient ispanian]

[personal profile] dissonates 2014-05-20 06:59 am (UTC)(link)
[The bar... he hadn't really thought about it, since going there would mean bringing back so many memories, both good and bad. Now that Guy's gone, since it was his bar, but not the same Guy, so at the same time it wasn't his bar at all... it might be too hard. He'd start serving up the alcohol and instead fill his own glass and never stop, not till the face in his mind blurred and his shoulder stopped aching from the phantom pains of his last death.

Hell, maybe they could both use a drink after this. To Asch, at least, it's very tempting. Drown himself in a couple of the mixes Guy had taught him and just... forget for a while. He'd never let himself do it before, because he's seen it in so many other soldiers during his life- the ones who start drinking to drown out the pain, and the ones who forget how to stop. Because it feels good to forget. It feels good to... feel good. He never indulges that sort of thing because it hurts too much to lose it afterwards.

....]


...I can open it.

[Just once.]