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discedo_logs2009-09-20 10:11 pm
roseraiebleue.livejournal.com) wrote in discedo_logs2009-09-20 10:11 pm
[in progress]
Who: Charles [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
roseraiebleue], Hikaru [one_is_hikaru], and Kaoru [choosewhich]
Where: Mostly Latimir 305
When: Early morning of September 13
Rating: PG-13 to R for Charles being a crazy fucker?
Summary: Post-biting drama.
the log:
He had run shortly after they had woken up, unwilling and unable to explain himself, to apologize, to deal with any of it. And for all the fallout that had and would follow, Charles had gotten precious little out of it in his haste -- only a few swallows, as much blood staining clothes and sheets as passing down his throat. He had had no rationally thought-out plan, after all; his actions had been conceived in the near-madness of starvation.
Nearly the entire night lost in the fog -- not that it had been wholly unproductive, but he hardly wanted to dwell further on that now -- and he had finally made it back to the Latimir apartment building, back to that empty room that had for so long been his sanctuary. But now, the solitude wasn't peaceful and comforting, it was cold and lonely and everything about it made him remember all the things he'd lost and all the things he'd never have again, and that damn mural -- painted in his blood with Soubi's brush; Soubi had said the painted flowers symbolized love, but that seemed like nothing more than a sick joke now. His mind in a haze of anger and guilt and loneliness, vision obscured by a mist of hot tears, claws came forth to tear blindly at paint and plaster, wanting not just to erase it, but to destroy it.
Then--
With no place left to go, Chiropteran claw retracted and his own fingernails now broken and dripping with blood, he finally stumbled back into that shared apartment just as dawn was beginning to break, pausing not even for a second until he dropped to his knees on the floor at the foot of his bed. He shifted, moving back into the dark corner formed by the wall and the edge of the bed as he wiped his running nose on his blood-stained sleeve, finally drawing his knees up into his chest and bowing his head, burying his face in his cloak, desperate to conceal his tears and muffle his sobs.
But his shaking shoulders would easily give him away.
roseraiebleue], Hikaru [one_is_hikaru], and Kaoru [choosewhich]Where: Mostly Latimir 305
When: Early morning of September 13
Rating: PG-13 to R for Charles being a crazy fucker?
Summary: Post-biting drama.
the log:
He had run shortly after they had woken up, unwilling and unable to explain himself, to apologize, to deal with any of it. And for all the fallout that had and would follow, Charles had gotten precious little out of it in his haste -- only a few swallows, as much blood staining clothes and sheets as passing down his throat. He had had no rationally thought-out plan, after all; his actions had been conceived in the near-madness of starvation.
Nearly the entire night lost in the fog -- not that it had been wholly unproductive, but he hardly wanted to dwell further on that now -- and he had finally made it back to the Latimir apartment building, back to that empty room that had for so long been his sanctuary. But now, the solitude wasn't peaceful and comforting, it was cold and lonely and everything about it made him remember all the things he'd lost and all the things he'd never have again, and that damn mural -- painted in his blood with Soubi's brush; Soubi had said the painted flowers symbolized love, but that seemed like nothing more than a sick joke now. His mind in a haze of anger and guilt and loneliness, vision obscured by a mist of hot tears, claws came forth to tear blindly at paint and plaster, wanting not just to erase it, but to destroy it.
Then--
With no place left to go, Chiropteran claw retracted and his own fingernails now broken and dripping with blood, he finally stumbled back into that shared apartment just as dawn was beginning to break, pausing not even for a second until he dropped to his knees on the floor at the foot of his bed. He shifted, moving back into the dark corner formed by the wall and the edge of the bed as he wiped his running nose on his blood-stained sleeve, finally drawing his knees up into his chest and bowing his head, burying his face in his cloak, desperate to conceal his tears and muffle his sobs.
But his shaking shoulders would easily give him away.