evulsed: (45)
Vᴀɴɪᴛᴀs ([personal profile] evulsed) wrote in [community profile] logsinthenight2019-07-21 03:25 pm

Don't Fuck with the Forest Spirits || OTA

characters: Vanitas ([personal profile] evulsed) + OTA
location: mostly The Church, the Invincible + the Boathouse
date/time: July 19 and the days following
content: just waking-up-after-being-dismembered things
warnings: violence

withsadness: (012)

[personal profile] withsadness 2019-07-21 05:31 pm (UTC)(link)
It isn't polite to stare.

[Even though that's almost, nearly more of a glare. And Mary's staring at him, too, from where she's sitting in a booth and coloring. He's back. And maybe she shouldn't have said anything, but she just couldn't help herself. There's a prickling of fear in the back of her neck...but that just makes her angry.]
preseance: (pic#11578219)

[personal profile] preseance 2019-07-21 06:03 pm (UTC)(link)
( he's in the vestry when it happens, that sound of splintering wood an' the impact of furniture hitting stone. gene hits the deck with his hands over his head. some kinda — damn bomb, or grenade? somethin', anyway. he's about to reach for his tablet and send a quick message out when the wail cuts over the settling sound. no time, then, if there's anyone injured. he gets back to his feet, grabs his bag and heads to the main body of the church where he. stops short. no blood in the air, no body parts strewn 'round from the force of the explosion. just that same kid that'd been in here a little over a week ago. gene eyes the destruction wrought on their surroundings, but that ain't ever stopped him on approach before.

he holds one hand out, the other wrapped around the strap of his med kit. )


Hey, hey. Easy. You hurt?
withsadness: (046)

[personal profile] withsadness 2019-07-21 06:40 pm (UTC)(link)
Nooothing...

[Pursing her lips, Mary looks back down at whatever it was she was drawing. She pulls out a black crayon from her box and scribbles messily on top of the artwork. At least this is a more productive way of letting out her emotions than, you know, with a knife.]
preseance: (pic#13262755)

[personal profile] preseance 2019-07-21 09:50 pm (UTC)(link)
( the darkness writhes like a thing alive an' gene eyes it wary an' unsure. ain't like nothin' he's ever had cause to see before, even ghosts ain't like this.

but he steps into it anyway, grimacing at the wash'a cold that crawls up his legs when he does. the shock of it makes him draw a breath that ain't rightly steady, an' throws him right back into the foxholes at st vith. he has to. stop a moment. close his eyes against it. one boot in front of the other. ain't that what bein' a paratrooper's all about? you move up the stick an' you jump an' the air hits you like a battering ram. ain't any different.

he takes another step. comes up to the kid an' sits down beside him on the pew. he's fully aware this could get him killed or worse, an' wade ain't around this time with a gun, but. gene reaches out with the intent to touch the kid's shoulder. )


Look at me. Focus on how I breathe, an' follow along with that, all right? Just nice an' easy. In and out. Ain't nothin' here but you an' me, kid, we're okay. We're okay.
preseance: (pic#13302895)

[personal profile] preseance 2019-07-21 10:31 pm (UTC)(link)
( ain't nothin' else for it. he just pulls the boy in for a hug, restin' a palm against the middle of his back. )

Easy, easy. Shh. Try not to think about it now. Won't do but make it worse. ( how many boys has he spoke to like this? only, they never came back from the dead an' the only thing to be done was comfort the dyin'. ) Y'ever been to Alabama?

( gene knows he hasn't. it ain't the point of askin'. )
preseance: (pic#11767895)

[personal profile] preseance 2019-07-21 11:24 pm (UTC)(link)
( an' you know, he can almost tell. that this is maybe the first hug the boy's ever gotten in his life, just on account'a that utter lack of reaction. gene lifts his hand up and strokes his hair softly, then continues on, )

Well, I'm from a little city called Agathine. Quiet place. Ain't too many folks there, an' I bet I could name all of 'em in one go if needs be. We're just a minin' town. Coal an' forestry nearby. Hills, but ain't no mountains to speak of. I grew up in a shack on the edge of a forest, just outside'a town. Me an' my folks an' three younger brothers. I used to go out as a kid into the woods, climb trees, swim in creeks. Get myself into a whole world'a trouble. Can't tell you how many times I limped back to my Ma with some bone or other broke because I fell outta a tree or off a bridge.

( his voice is suffused with warmth. it's obvious that agathine cleaves to the soul of him. even speakin' on pain, he's fond. )

Ain't been back in years, but I reckon it hasn't changed much. They'd spoil you there, kid. Nan Pearson would as soon stuff you full'a pie as look at you.
withsadness: (169)

[personal profile] withsadness 2019-07-22 12:10 am (UTC)(link)
[Mary's crayon stops in its destructive path, and she feels her teeth gnash together behind her lips.]

Are you going to tell people?
dualikey: (Default)

[personal profile] dualikey 2019-07-22 12:11 am (UTC)(link)
[It's been the same feeling for days- after that first night. It'd been at it's worst then, worse than anything he could have ever imagined, worse than anything he's ever felt. But the after was something else. A stretched out kind of hollow feeling that didn't stop. It was there when we woke up and it was there when he and Riku and Kairi sat down for breakfast together. It was there when he and Dawn went out along the shore and it was there when he went to sleep. It was there the day after that, and the day after that and Sora couldn't bring himself to head into town and be around the bonfire's warm glow, or to find his way to the Invicible and listen to the chatter of voices familiar or otherwise. When he leaves the boathouse at all it's to walk along the sand or to sit out on the pier, to listen to the small waves and to try to close his eyes. To pretend that they're louder.

Being alone was the hardest part- when his friends would head into town or go meet up with some of the others. When the graves had lingered and they'd all had plenty on their minds. He couldn't bring himself to ask because if he did then he'd need to know what the question would be. He'd need to know what words to use. And he didn't, still doesn't.

Only that big hollow space had remained.
Until suddenly, in one deep breath, it wasn't.

Sora's body stiffens from where he sits. The sensation is like- like being hit all at once, like his leg has gone from being asleep to being normal in one big go. He looks back over his shoulder on reflex, an instantaneous snap as if he expects to find the cause right there. But it isn't. He isn't. And Sora looks at both of his hands instead, head swimming. If he lets his vision get blurry around the edges he imagines they might be covered in gore- unrecognizable shapes barely stitched onto his own.

All there really is to do is wait. His lantern is a warm golden glow brought into his lap, obscured from anyone but the lake- and he waits. There's no way to describe that either; knowing that Vanitas will come. It's just there, the same way that there's air to breathe, the same way that his heart still beats. He doesn't know what the passage of time is, in the end, and that feels appropriate too after the timelessness of everything else. Small noises arrive behind him, two feet in the sand. And Sora turns to see him- spots the dark silhouette looking out at the boathouse. So he turns with his lantern too. A single bright point on a black horizon.]
preseance: (pic#13264856)

[personal profile] preseance 2019-07-22 12:19 am (UTC)(link)
( any medic worth their salt knows it ain't about the words, it's about the tone. you can calm a horse talkin' about the weather so long's you keep your words even an' soft an' your touch tender.

ain't nobody been kind to this boy in a long, long time. he resolves to do it well.

the darkness slinks away, an' gene takes that as his cue to pull on back. he fishes a kerchief outta his pocket an' presses it into vanitas' hand, ruffles his hair again with the other. )


Always hated cryin', myself. Gets real messy, an' you're stuffed up hours after. One more thing that bodies ain't the best about, huh?
voktys: (perzys)

[personal profile] voktys 2019-07-22 10:45 am (UTC)(link)
Moving like a ghost around a holy site is not new to her –– she had heard his cries, had seen Eugene care for him, and had chosen to leave the medic to it. No need to crowd the newly resurrected. She gives him some time instead, just a little to return back to his room and take a breather.

Eventually, she heads for the Invincible. Knock-knock at the door to his chambers, polite but insistent. She had taken a detour before heading upstairs, and if he opens the door, or calls for her to enter, she'll glide inside carrying a tray with a hot meal for him.

It's no universal cure, no. He hadn't screamed like a creature who could be soothed with food.

But it's a show of human care, and that could be worth something, maybe.

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