yuma tsukumo (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
heartbolt) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2012-09-17 12:20 pm
heartbolt) wrote in towerofanimus2012-09-17 12:20 pm
Entry tags:
[open] Embracing a heart on the brink of breaking
Characters: Yuma & You?
Setting: Room 1-20 / Dormitory Floor 1, assorted floors descending the tower.
Format: Words.
Summary: A new arrival attempts to fight off a series of panic attacks with varying levels of success.
Standard character introduction set-up in main post; feel free to tag in from any reasonably accessible location, as Yuma will be descending the full tower via staircase. Bodyswap victims welcome to make this even more disorienting.
Warnings: skittish anxiety case with a habit of running away from people.
Paralysis was new.
He didn't remember going to sleep—for that matter, Yuma didn't remember getting home last night—but he definitely, definitely didn't remember this ceiling. He normally slept upstairs in the attic, angled wooden roof over his head and a window letting in light to his side; neither of these were right. More than that, he was sleeping on a bed, and Yuma hadn't slept in his own bed at home for years. This was not what he'd been wearing, and was nothing close to what he would have been wearing if he'd slept here voluntarily. Confusion made way to trepidation. In his chest his heartrate only climbed, as though if his blood moved fast enough, pumped enough adrenaline into his veins, he'd be able to move.
Perhaps it was right. The moment he could, Yuma bolted upright, and the force of it nearly sent him rolling over the front end of the bed. The stacatto in his chest did not ease, not when he read the letters, and not when he opened the trunk to find his own belongings inside. His clothes, neatly folded; his deck case, heavy with cards; the heart-shaped container holding a single heart piece, his token of entry into the World Duel Carnival. And, hidden under a folded shirt, his most prized possession: the framed photograph of his parents, both vibrant and happy in front of that step pyramid in Mexico, the name of which he rarely remembered and could never pronounce. It was only looking at their smiling faces that eased his heart down from the brink of panic, but he could not feel calm like this. Kidnapped, and worse than that, your world has been destroyed? What kind of crap was that? Yuma didn't believe it for a second.
He changed as quickly as he could into his normal clothes, dropping the weird jumpsuit into the trunk with the spare clothes he didn't care about enough to collect. He tried pulling off the thing wrapped around his neck, but his hands weren't strong enough to break it, and he couldn't find any mechanism to open it easily. He could deal with it later, he thought; more important was getting somewhere safe. Running shoes, his favorite pair of pants, a tank top and his red vest, and everything that went with. It wouldn't keep him warm, but Heartland City was rarely cold enough to warrant jackets. Because of course he was still in Heartland City. Of course he was. Maybe this was just some part of the World Duel Carnival, or some creep was kidnapping kids for who knew what reason. Things had been getting pretty heated up lately, with all the crime...
Quickly and with shaking hands he hooked his deck case to his belt, and slipped heart piece and photograph both into the inner pockets of his vest. It was a little bulky, wearing a glass-and-frame photo like that, but he wasn't going to leave his parents behind. He was getting the hell out of here.
He just hoped he didn't run into anyone on the way out.
Setting: Room 1-20 / Dormitory Floor 1, assorted floors descending the tower.
Format: Words.
Summary: A new arrival attempts to fight off a series of panic attacks with varying levels of success.
Standard character introduction set-up in main post; feel free to tag in from any reasonably accessible location, as Yuma will be descending the full tower via staircase. Bodyswap victims welcome to make this even more disorienting.
Warnings: skittish anxiety case with a habit of running away from people.
Paralysis was new.
He didn't remember going to sleep—for that matter, Yuma didn't remember getting home last night—but he definitely, definitely didn't remember this ceiling. He normally slept upstairs in the attic, angled wooden roof over his head and a window letting in light to his side; neither of these were right. More than that, he was sleeping on a bed, and Yuma hadn't slept in his own bed at home for years. This was not what he'd been wearing, and was nothing close to what he would have been wearing if he'd slept here voluntarily. Confusion made way to trepidation. In his chest his heartrate only climbed, as though if his blood moved fast enough, pumped enough adrenaline into his veins, he'd be able to move.
Perhaps it was right. The moment he could, Yuma bolted upright, and the force of it nearly sent him rolling over the front end of the bed. The stacatto in his chest did not ease, not when he read the letters, and not when he opened the trunk to find his own belongings inside. His clothes, neatly folded; his deck case, heavy with cards; the heart-shaped container holding a single heart piece, his token of entry into the World Duel Carnival. And, hidden under a folded shirt, his most prized possession: the framed photograph of his parents, both vibrant and happy in front of that step pyramid in Mexico, the name of which he rarely remembered and could never pronounce. It was only looking at their smiling faces that eased his heart down from the brink of panic, but he could not feel calm like this. Kidnapped, and worse than that, your world has been destroyed? What kind of crap was that? Yuma didn't believe it for a second.
He changed as quickly as he could into his normal clothes, dropping the weird jumpsuit into the trunk with the spare clothes he didn't care about enough to collect. He tried pulling off the thing wrapped around his neck, but his hands weren't strong enough to break it, and he couldn't find any mechanism to open it easily. He could deal with it later, he thought; more important was getting somewhere safe. Running shoes, his favorite pair of pants, a tank top and his red vest, and everything that went with. It wouldn't keep him warm, but Heartland City was rarely cold enough to warrant jackets. Because of course he was still in Heartland City. Of course he was. Maybe this was just some part of the World Duel Carnival, or some creep was kidnapping kids for who knew what reason. Things had been getting pretty heated up lately, with all the crime...
Quickly and with shaking hands he hooked his deck case to his belt, and slipped heart piece and photograph both into the inner pockets of his vest. It was a little bulky, wearing a glass-and-frame photo like that, but he wasn't going to leave his parents behind. He was getting the hell out of here.
He just hoped he didn't run into anyone on the way out.
dormitory floor 1!
It was easy to deduct that this was the tower's doing (anything that went wrong was always the tower's fault, after all). Although he didn't know the why, which could easily be fixed with some stalking of the network. As soon as he decided that he leaped out of bed, intending to go back to his own room because even though technically he was in a girl's body, that didn't mean he was comfortable wearing girl's clothes.
Only he should have watched where he was going because the funny thing with only having use of one eye for years and then suddenly having use of both was that seeing was now very difficult.
Hello stranger, hope you don't mind a girl in her nightgown pretty much running you over in the halls.
no subject
He'd only been out in the corridors a few minutes, his attention caught halfway between trying to find a door out, and wondering just how many doors there were. They all seemed to have similar lists of names on their fronts, but none of them were names Yuma recognized. Heck, some of them didn't even look like names!
So distracted, he didn't notice the approaching figure until it was too late, and someone jostled against him in a hurry. His anxiety already running high from the strange circumstances, his spinning recoil was instant, his hands jerking up in a defensive stance. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice high and too quick, the words almost blurring together. He should have known from the names on the doors that of course he wasn't alone here, but running into another person, he wasn't ready for that at all.
And that was before he even saw who he ran into -- or what clothes were being worn.
Oh.
Oh.
His voice dried up and withered in his throat, and the repetition of his apology rasped into silence only halfway through, and in a fluster he turned his eyes away. In his mind, he was already beginning another round of self-aimed insults.
no subject
He couldn't believe he actually ran into someone while like this. Couldn't he have just been allowed to return to his normal dorm room in peace? Apparently not because this tower hates him.
But why was this guys acting like that...?
It was then that he realized he had just dashed out of the room without thinking. He quickly glanced down and saw that he was still wearing. Immediately his face turned bright red.
Good job, Sakuma, everything is now 100% more awkward.
no subject
He needed to get away from this girl, and out of this place, so he could curl up and hide somewhere familiar. His shoes scuffed on the floor, giving away his slow, backwards retreat.
no subject
Then he noticed the other boy trying to retreat but he really doesn't do anything to stop him.
...Although he really hoped that he hadn't scared the other boy too much and he didn't ruin this girl's image along with it. He felt like he should apologize again or at least explain himself.
Very feebly, he said, "Sorry, I should have looked where I was going."
no subject
He took another step back. His hands, still held up in a posture of defense, were beginning to tremble. His head moved from side to side, and even if he did not look directly at the stranger, his eyes were wide open. "I'm sorry!" was greeting as well as farewell. Once the words were out of his mouth he spun heel and ran the opposite direction.
Yuma was, if nothing else, a very fast runner.
no subject
Nevertheless, now that he was gone it was time to head back to his real dorm room. And this time he was going to be more careful and watch where he was going. He had a feeling that this wasn't going to be the only time having use of both eyes was going to give him trouble.