Jin Shirato (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
morituramfides) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2012-11-26 12:02 am
morituramfides) wrote in towerofanimus2012-11-26 12:02 am
Delete File?
Characters: Jin Shirato and OPEN
Setting: Floor 43, any day after the Ruana network post
Format: starting in prose, but I can switch to action if you're prefer!
Summary: After speaking with Ruana, Jin has to cool down and creates a daily ritual for himself.
Warnings: Science trauma and Jin being Jin.
Jin was perfectly well aware that nothing he could do to the building was permanent; significant damage would also just bestow punishment for his efforts. But there's of course a point when you stop caring about whatever the Tower can dish out, and after it transform you into a rabid and horrifying facsimile of a jungle cat, you've passed that point. Besides, Sayaka was right; he'd needed to get away from the computer long before he had actually gotten away from it.
His head was still spinning, and he felt a bit sick (the same sort of ill that had come at the end of the summer he'd wager), but here he stood on the 43rd floor, standing outside one specific jail cell; one with a number plate that read "037." For a long time it just seemed like he was staring vacantly at it, even though his mind was racing.
And then eventually Jin snapped out of his own reverie, took out a screwdriver from his pocket, jammed it under the plate and pried the numbered plate off the wall after quite a bit of effort. The physically strongest he wasn't, but he kept pushing until it finally popped off.
Of course, it would come back the next day, and again Jin'd be on the 43rd floor, rather prying the plate off or carving into it to scrape off the number and make it illegible. It almost became a ritual every day, stopping down there on the way down to find something to do, and it'd be easy to find him idling about in front of the jail cell with a screwdriver in hand.
He had no idea what his own opinion was on her anymore, but he still felt like doing this much.
Setting: Floor 43, any day after the Ruana network post
Format: starting in prose, but I can switch to action if you're prefer!
Summary: After speaking with Ruana, Jin has to cool down and creates a daily ritual for himself.
Warnings: Science trauma and Jin being Jin.
Jin was perfectly well aware that nothing he could do to the building was permanent; significant damage would also just bestow punishment for his efforts. But there's of course a point when you stop caring about whatever the Tower can dish out, and after it transform you into a rabid and horrifying facsimile of a jungle cat, you've passed that point. Besides, Sayaka was right; he'd needed to get away from the computer long before he had actually gotten away from it.
His head was still spinning, and he felt a bit sick (the same sort of ill that had come at the end of the summer he'd wager), but here he stood on the 43rd floor, standing outside one specific jail cell; one with a number plate that read "037." For a long time it just seemed like he was staring vacantly at it, even though his mind was racing.
And then eventually Jin snapped out of his own reverie, took out a screwdriver from his pocket, jammed it under the plate and pried the numbered plate off the wall after quite a bit of effort. The physically strongest he wasn't, but he kept pushing until it finally popped off.
Of course, it would come back the next day, and again Jin'd be on the 43rd floor, rather prying the plate off or carving into it to scrape off the number and make it illegible. It almost became a ritual every day, stopping down there on the way down to find something to do, and it'd be easy to find him idling about in front of the jail cell with a screwdriver in hand.
He had no idea what his own opinion was on her anymore, but he still felt like doing this much.
no subject
"It doesn't, hmm?" he cooed, taking a few cautious steps closer to Jin. He kept a fair distance, though, as if waiting for Jin to lash out at him. "Und how does it feel, your mind tearing itself apart? Does it hurt? Tell me everything."
He paused for a few seconds, looking Jin up and down, taking in each and every detail of his appearance. Then he met his eyes again, and his lips curled into something like a smile. "I want to know just how much you suffer."
And he gave a bitter laugh.
no subject
Until...something kind of unhooked in his mind. He'd done an almost phenomenal job keeping Moros under check for a while, but... Everything mounting lately just kind of made the Persona very upset. Especially since he was apparently being directly inquired about!
On the outside, it only looked like Jin winced slightly, as if he'd suddenly gotten a migraine. But on the inside, Moros was practically trying to scream.
Of course, he tried to cover it up by a small adjustment of his glasses and continue unreactive like normal. Sure he'd talk a little, but he wasn't going to let Richtofen get all the satisfaction if he could help it. "Like a voice screaming at you every minute of every day calling for you to die or talking about how it's going to kill you and forecasting every portent of doom it can muster... But that's when it's under control."
no subject
"Ah! How familiar," he said. He bent at the waist and tapped a finger up against his own temple, once, twice, three times. "Perhaps we are suffering from the same condition. Ja?"
no subject
"Don't lump in the same category as you, you freak! I wasn't born with my mutation."