Guy Cecil ☼ [Gᴀɪʟᴀʀᴅɪᴀ•Gᴀʟᴀɴ•Gᴀʀᴅɪᴏs] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
relinquishing) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-04-12 05:07 pm
relinquishing) wrote in towerofanimus2013-04-12 05:07 pm
Entry tags:
To live and keep on living (Closed)
Characters: Guy Cecil and Asch the Bloody
Setting: Floor 100
When: Backdated to April 6th
Format: Action
Summary: Two emotionally-repressed guys talking about death. This should go over well.
Warnings: Just general distress and angst. Will update if there's anything else.
[It was becoming something frightening and undesirable. Not that death wasn't already something Guy wanted to avoid with his entire being. But this place, twisted as it was with its process of revival, had made death an even more horrific experience than Guy had ever wanted it to be.
Four times in four months, not counting the times he had vividly died in his dreams. He could recall the first three with an intense clarity, especially the second - one which made him shudder and curl up on himself to even think about. But this fourth time... it had been an accident. A stupid, stupid accident; he'd assumed it was safe, he'd assumed that they would be alright stepping onto a floor just because it might have been similar to one of the other safer floors. But feeling sleep dragging him to death had been almost as unnerving as any of his other deaths - he had wondered if he was dying, even as he dreamed... but didn't realize that was what had actually happened, for both himself and Ion, until he had awoken in his bed.
Forty minutes of paralysis. Forty minutes to sit and swear at himself for being such an idiot, unable to move or talk or look at who else was in the room or even care at that point. Ion... the poor kid. It was only his first day, and look at what had happened...
It was just as it had been when he had returned from Auldrant. Guy felt his composure slipping, his mind racing more on the thoughts of guilt, of his death, on "what if I slip one more time and never wake up". The first few days after his revival... he couldn't push those thoughts back. His projects in the workshop were ignored and the maid work throughout the dormitories was sluggish.
It had come to haunt him now. He couldn't get death off his mind.
So the blonde had taken to finding places of seclusion, to let himself be alone with his thoughts and slice some monsters open if he couldn't manage. Sometimes it was the caverns. Sometimes the lagoon.
Today, it was this floor. Empty until one stepped foot onto it. And Guy sat here, cross-legged on the floor with his blade casually tossed to the side, arms crossed tightly against himself, surrounded by holographic images of that which he missed most - the isle of Hod and the people who lived on it. Every once in a while someone would approach, and he'd raise a hand in greeting, only to hesitate, grimace, and clench his fist back towards his chest.
It was enough of a flashback to make him fight a horrid, burning sensation in his core, his throat knotted up. But he pushed it back. He had to push it back. This was his reminder - of all he had lost, and all he had to live for.
He couldn't die again. He just couldn't.]
Setting: Floor 100
When: Backdated to April 6th
Format: Action
Summary: Two emotionally-repressed guys talking about death. This should go over well.
Warnings: Just general distress and angst. Will update if there's anything else.
[It was becoming something frightening and undesirable. Not that death wasn't already something Guy wanted to avoid with his entire being. But this place, twisted as it was with its process of revival, had made death an even more horrific experience than Guy had ever wanted it to be.
Four times in four months, not counting the times he had vividly died in his dreams. He could recall the first three with an intense clarity, especially the second - one which made him shudder and curl up on himself to even think about. But this fourth time... it had been an accident. A stupid, stupid accident; he'd assumed it was safe, he'd assumed that they would be alright stepping onto a floor just because it might have been similar to one of the other safer floors. But feeling sleep dragging him to death had been almost as unnerving as any of his other deaths - he had wondered if he was dying, even as he dreamed... but didn't realize that was what had actually happened, for both himself and Ion, until he had awoken in his bed.
Forty minutes of paralysis. Forty minutes to sit and swear at himself for being such an idiot, unable to move or talk or look at who else was in the room or even care at that point. Ion... the poor kid. It was only his first day, and look at what had happened...
It was just as it had been when he had returned from Auldrant. Guy felt his composure slipping, his mind racing more on the thoughts of guilt, of his death, on "what if I slip one more time and never wake up". The first few days after his revival... he couldn't push those thoughts back. His projects in the workshop were ignored and the maid work throughout the dormitories was sluggish.
It had come to haunt him now. He couldn't get death off his mind.
So the blonde had taken to finding places of seclusion, to let himself be alone with his thoughts and slice some monsters open if he couldn't manage. Sometimes it was the caverns. Sometimes the lagoon.
Today, it was this floor. Empty until one stepped foot onto it. And Guy sat here, cross-legged on the floor with his blade casually tossed to the side, arms crossed tightly against himself, surrounded by holographic images of that which he missed most - the isle of Hod and the people who lived on it. Every once in a while someone would approach, and he'd raise a hand in greeting, only to hesitate, grimace, and clench his fist back towards his chest.
It was enough of a flashback to make him fight a horrid, burning sensation in his core, his throat knotted up. But he pushed it back. He had to push it back. This was his reminder - of all he had lost, and all he had to live for.
He couldn't die again. He just couldn't.]
Page 1 of 4