Fon Master Ion (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fragileprophet) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-04-28 11:36 am
fragileprophet) wrote in towerofanimus2013-04-28 11:36 am
the third - forgive me for these cliché words
Characters: Ion and you!
Setting: Dorm 1-16, a Washroom on Dorm Floor 1, Floor 100, and the Cafeteria.
Format: Started with prose, but I will follow your lead!
Summary: Backdated to shortly after the event close. Ion wakes up to an intense amount of guilt and regret concerning what happened during the brainwashing, and tries to deal with this.
Warnings: Mostly just a lot of angst and general panic. Some self-hate.
[Dorm 1-16]
Ion would have loved to have been relieved when he opened his eyes from the simple comfort of his bed and found himself in control of his own body. In fact, he was. But only so long as it took him to sit up and wonder if it any of it had really been real—and then find the confirmation staring him in the face from its position on his nightstand. The bloody tuning fork, the symbol of his order and everything he had been raised to support, sat at him with condescending finality.
You did this, it spat silently. You soiled me.
And Ion knew—Lorelei, did he knew. His hands shook from where he clutched the sheet to his chest, his eyes wide and panicked. He was so sorry. He was so sorry. It hadn’t been him; he wouldn’t have done it. He wouldn’t ever have harmed someone the way he had done under the influence of the Administrators.
And yet…a small part of him…somewhere deep inside…didn’t it just feel so wonderful? So free of worry? So wonderfully calm? To see the flame of life blown out like a flickering candle.
That wasn’t him. Ion felt his throat constrict, and he fell back on his bed, curling into himself and trying to hide as best as he could underneath the sheet. To block out the tuning fork and its tarnished gold. It couldn’t have been him. That couldn’t have been how he had really felt. It had been incepted inside of him as some cruel game or…or…
It wasn’t really me, right?
What scared him the most was that Ion wasn’t actually sure.
[Dorm Floor 1 – Washroom]
After a while, Ion finally summoned the courage to crawl out of bed. Or, rather, forced himself to get up. It didn’t feel right to lie around moping, even if he was feeling the way he was. The fork was still waiting for him, blood dried and tacky and turning a dark, ruddy red against the gold. He shuddered at the sight of it—then acted.
It wasn’t going to change. Not on its own. That was where the responsibility turned to him. As the Fon Master, he had to wipe it away. He had to redeem himself.
Moments later, he can be found in the washroom, furiously scrubbing it in the sink. Come on, he begs it in desperate silence. His hands start shaking, heart begins thumping. He can’t get the stains off—they won’t come off! Or have they already been washed away down the drain, and Ion’s too distraught to see anything other than what his guilt will allow him?
[Floor 100]
It was the first time Ion had stopped to look at this floor, and it almost made him feel worse once he had. The Daathic Cathedral was so peaceful and bright and full of hope as the Fon Master walked toward the front of it, not at all like the one that made up the thirteenth floor.
There were no whispers here. No distortion of sound. No overwhelming sense of danger or foreboding. He assumed, as he attempted to run his hand along one of the pews and found it intangible, that this was due to the fact that none of it was really real. Still, it was the closest thing to home he had left, wasn’t it? Even though it pained his heart in bursts to be reminded that it was likely gone for good, he continued on, until he reached the alter.
Ion closed his eyes, and folded his hands in front of his chest in prayer. Even if this wasn’t really Daath, even if his spirits couldn’t hear him, he was determined to make due. Or at least to hope that this would be enough to soothe the dull ache inside of him and chase away the images of the soiled tuning fork he had woken up to. “Yulia, forgive me,” he whispered softly. “For I cannot forgive myself.”
[Cafeteria]
Although sitting alone at one of the tables in the dining hall, Ion isn’t actually eating anything. He’s not hungry, and honestly isn’t all too sure he’d be able to stomach anything if he tried to eat. But even sitting alone, doing so in a wide place full of people makes him feel a bit less alone. If approached, he naturally won’t mind sharing his table, and he’ll engage in polite conversation as best he can. It’s easy to notice, however, with every word he speaks, that his thoughts are heavier than he’s trying to let on.
Talking about it, of course, would be troublesome. He’d rather not bother anyone with his personal problems. Though anyone is welcome to a little harmless prying.
Setting: Dorm 1-16, a Washroom on Dorm Floor 1, Floor 100, and the Cafeteria.
Format: Started with prose, but I will follow your lead!
Summary: Backdated to shortly after the event close. Ion wakes up to an intense amount of guilt and regret concerning what happened during the brainwashing, and tries to deal with this.
Warnings: Mostly just a lot of angst and general panic. Some self-hate.
[Dorm 1-16]
Ion would have loved to have been relieved when he opened his eyes from the simple comfort of his bed and found himself in control of his own body. In fact, he was. But only so long as it took him to sit up and wonder if it any of it had really been real—and then find the confirmation staring him in the face from its position on his nightstand. The bloody tuning fork, the symbol of his order and everything he had been raised to support, sat at him with condescending finality.
You did this, it spat silently. You soiled me.
And Ion knew—Lorelei, did he knew. His hands shook from where he clutched the sheet to his chest, his eyes wide and panicked. He was so sorry. He was so sorry. It hadn’t been him; he wouldn’t have done it. He wouldn’t ever have harmed someone the way he had done under the influence of the Administrators.
And yet…a small part of him…somewhere deep inside…didn’t it just feel so wonderful? So free of worry? So wonderfully calm? To see the flame of life blown out like a flickering candle.
That wasn’t him. Ion felt his throat constrict, and he fell back on his bed, curling into himself and trying to hide as best as he could underneath the sheet. To block out the tuning fork and its tarnished gold. It couldn’t have been him. That couldn’t have been how he had really felt. It had been incepted inside of him as some cruel game or…or…
It wasn’t really me, right?
What scared him the most was that Ion wasn’t actually sure.
[Dorm Floor 1 – Washroom]
After a while, Ion finally summoned the courage to crawl out of bed. Or, rather, forced himself to get up. It didn’t feel right to lie around moping, even if he was feeling the way he was. The fork was still waiting for him, blood dried and tacky and turning a dark, ruddy red against the gold. He shuddered at the sight of it—then acted.
It wasn’t going to change. Not on its own. That was where the responsibility turned to him. As the Fon Master, he had to wipe it away. He had to redeem himself.
Moments later, he can be found in the washroom, furiously scrubbing it in the sink. Come on, he begs it in desperate silence. His hands start shaking, heart begins thumping. He can’t get the stains off—they won’t come off! Or have they already been washed away down the drain, and Ion’s too distraught to see anything other than what his guilt will allow him?
[Floor 100]
It was the first time Ion had stopped to look at this floor, and it almost made him feel worse once he had. The Daathic Cathedral was so peaceful and bright and full of hope as the Fon Master walked toward the front of it, not at all like the one that made up the thirteenth floor.
There were no whispers here. No distortion of sound. No overwhelming sense of danger or foreboding. He assumed, as he attempted to run his hand along one of the pews and found it intangible, that this was due to the fact that none of it was really real. Still, it was the closest thing to home he had left, wasn’t it? Even though it pained his heart in bursts to be reminded that it was likely gone for good, he continued on, until he reached the alter.
Ion closed his eyes, and folded his hands in front of his chest in prayer. Even if this wasn’t really Daath, even if his spirits couldn’t hear him, he was determined to make due. Or at least to hope that this would be enough to soothe the dull ache inside of him and chase away the images of the soiled tuning fork he had woken up to. “Yulia, forgive me,” he whispered softly. “For I cannot forgive myself.”
[Cafeteria]
Although sitting alone at one of the tables in the dining hall, Ion isn’t actually eating anything. He’s not hungry, and honestly isn’t all too sure he’d be able to stomach anything if he tried to eat. But even sitting alone, doing so in a wide place full of people makes him feel a bit less alone. If approached, he naturally won’t mind sharing his table, and he’ll engage in polite conversation as best he can. It’s easy to notice, however, with every word he speaks, that his thoughts are heavier than he’s trying to let on.
Talking about it, of course, would be troublesome. He’d rather not bother anyone with his personal problems. Though anyone is welcome to a little harmless prying.
Hallway near 1-16 -> Washroom
And then, when he's not too far from 1-16, he sees Ion rushing out of it, something bloodied clutched in his hands.
... They'd met only briefly, that first time, and after that was when people had been starting to disappear, but still, the impression he'd received of this particular roommate didn't lend itself toward violence...
Raven lingers in the hallway for a moment, debating whether or not to follow, before letting out a long breath and heading in the same direction Ion did.
When he reaches the entrance of the washroom, the man has to pause to take in the scene. For a while longer he only watches silently from the doorway before finally he decides that enough's enough and makes his presence known, deep voice easily carrying across the distance between them despite how softly he speaks.
"You can stop. It's not going to get much cleaner than that."
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Startled, he dropps the object so it clatters noisily noisily in the sink, and stares, shoulders tense, at his shaking hands. For a long moment, Ion says nothing.
It isn't until he twists the faucet off and wipes the not-yet-fully-formed tears away that he hesitantly turns to look up at Raven. He's embarrassed and ashamed and it shows in those green eyes of his, no matter how hard he tries to cover it up with his characteristically soft smile.
"I-I'm..."
The young Fon Master trails off when his voice catches, but tries again after taking a small breath. "I'm sorry. I didn't see you."
He has to actively force himself not to turn around and stare down at the object in the sink. It's as if he's trying to deny its presence altogether.
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Raven hesitates a moment, eyes flickering from side to side briefly, before tiredly stepping past the threshold and into the room proper. He doesn't move any further into the room, though. Pieces slowly are fitting themselves together despite his muddled thoughts, aligning themselves into a picture he doesn't at all enjoy the thought of.
Ion had been missing, as had a good number of the other Tower residents. Raven had personally known one of them, came face to face with what had befallen her.
And if all of the others who'd vanished that week met with a similar fate...
The only outward sign of his thoughts manifests in how he shuts his eyes for one long moment, before opening them again with a heavy exhalation.
The visage that stares down at Ion afterwards is carefully blanked of any emotion, but there's something sympathetic in those golden eyes all the same. A sad, knowing understanding of some sort, perhaps, if the Fon Master is able to recognize it.
One hand comes up to rest against the doorway; the left hangs as dead weight at his side. He takes another moment to try to organize his thoughts, find words to say, but ultimately Ion is a stranger, and he never all that skilled at giving his thoughts voice. His next statement comes out slightly falteringly, but maybe that can just be chalked up to the fatigue he's still doing his best to veil.
"If you're done... it probably isn't wise to linger too long."
Sorry for the lateness! Lot's of schoolwork aaah
His hands gripped at the sink behind him, and Ion focused most of his energy on keeping his knees from shaking. He had to break away from Raven's bright-yet-sad golden eyes to stare down at his feet. After a long moment, he nods. "Right, I'm sorry."
He tries to hurry, but his movements are sluggish and clumsy as he dries the tuning fork off on a towel and then hides it inside of folded hands. "I'm in the way."
Ion smiles, even if the gesture of friendliness does little to chase away the overall air of melancholy that surrounds him. As he takes steps away from the sink to bring him closer to his roommate, he nods his head respectfully. "Thank you for saying something. I don't know what came over me--but it was...it was inappropriate."
I know the feel; it's nearing finals over here orz
He does lean back against the wall as Ion approaches though, to allow him his space and keep a respectful distance. The movement's purpose is twofold: hopefully the comparatively relaxed, casual posture he ends up in will both help set his roommate more at ease, if only a little, and mask some of his lingering exhaustion. If it doesn't, then it wasn't as if he thought himself particularly personable to begin with.
The swordsman goes through several possible replies in his head and discards them just as quickly. 'You were obsessing, that's what.' 'You were dwelling on things you had no control over.' 'You're wallowing.' Some of it would certainly have come out sharper than was due; years past, and the events of the time his mind and body weren't his own are still a sore point to him.
It wouldn't do to alienate a roommate unnecessarily, though, and Ion is a child, one who'd yet done nothing to earn his ire. Raven knows this much, and he knows himself well enough that he'd rather err on the side of caution until he can force control over his emotions again.
He opts instead for: "You're still going to carry it around?"
There remains a faint edge to the question, but it's blunted so much he might as well have been commenting on the state of affairs instead for how bland and ingenuous its delivery is.
WE'RE ALMOST THERE
o-orz sorry about being so slow this week
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Cafeteria
While scouting for a spot, he caught sight of a familiar face, although said face seemed to convey more emotion than last time. He froze mid step at the sudden pang in his chest. Jonouchi wasn't able to recall anything after what happened. He had apparently came back the next day, albeit immobile for much too long. However, no matter how bad he felt, he couldn't imagine how bad the other must have suffering. It wasn't his fault right? He just looked like one of those possessed zombies.
In spite of better judgement the blonde took a spot next to Ion, setting his food beside the other. "How do you expect to stay strong if you don't eat?" He asked, as if nothing had happened.He was willing to forgive the other without so much as hesitating. The delinquent took his seat and made himself at home. It was one of the many things Yuugi could appreciate about him, handling things head on.
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And then he only feels immediately worse. He imagines the same blonde teenager, blood all over his hands and his clothes and his face and the floor--and has to stop. Ion has to force his eyes back to the table in shame, though he makes no move to discourage the other boy from sitting beside him. Underneath the table, his hands lie in his lap, clutching powerfully at the light-colored fabric of his robe.
Although he hears the selfless words of concern directed toward him, they only serve to fortify the heaviness of his heart. He tries to smile, and tries to reply, all that follows is a weighted silence. That is, at least, until finally, a murmur escapes.
"I tried to stop myself."
His job had always been to look to the future. But now, all Ion can seem to do is think of the past.
"...but no matter what I did...I couldn't. You were suffering and I wanted to help you but I..." I was powerless, I was useless, I was helpless, I failed. "I'm so sorry."
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"Stop beating yourself over it." It hurts to watch and he wishes he never put Ion in that state to begin with. Not that he would have known how not to, but he still feels like he could have done something.
"I forgive you."
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Finally, slowly, he tears his eyes away. "You're kind," Ion says without room for arguing. Even though I don't deserve it, he wants to add. But instead, just smiles as best he can. "Thank you."
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"You said you didn't mean to, so it's not your fault." If only things were really that simple, but Jonouchi was treating it that simply. Really they shouldn't even be dragging it out this long. It was all said and done and there was nothing they could do about it now. It was the past for a reason. Jonouchi shifted in his seat, converting moods entirely. They'll just have to move forward, and treat it like a growing experience.
"I'm Jonouchi Katsuya!" A friendly introduction was a good place to start. The blonde certainly had positivity to spare, and it wasn't faked. He wasn't going to let any of that keep him down. He couldn't. Jonouchi had to be stronger than that!
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cafeteria
She spotted the lone occupant of the table out of the corner of her eye. He didn't appear to be eating, and watching for a little while showed that he apparently wasn't here with company. Kanaya frowned, tucking a handful of the unappetizing bars into the pocket of her coat before approaching the boy.
"Are you waiting for someone?"
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"No, not at all," he assured. "If you need a seat, you're more than welcome to one."
He hadn't been expecting company, it was true, but any distraction was a welcome one. It served him no purpose to dwell on what he couldn't change, regardless of how hard it was proving to stop himself from doing just that.
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But, this boy was sitting alone in the cafeteria. He wasn't talking to anyone and he wasn't even eating anything. The thought suddenly occurred to her that maybe he, too, had suffered some altercation as a result of what had been done to some of the Tower populace.
She managed to pull up a smile, returning, "I was admittedly under the impression that you need the company more than I need the seat. I apologize if that is presumptuous of me."
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He gave a tiny laugh and a shrug. "Thinking about it, I've never really been so great at hiding how I feel. Someone always figures it out pretty easily. In any case, it's very considerate of you to have asked with that in mind, and I do admit that company sounds lovely." His smile turned apologetic. "Although, I'd hate to inconvenience you, if there's somewhere else you'd prefer to be."
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Kanaya seated herself next to the boy, her motions awkward but her decision resolute in her declaration: "It is not an inconvenience at all." This was much more productive than sitting in her room feeling sorry for herself. At least now the misery would have company, and maybe her new acquaintance could feel a little better.
"My name is Kanaya Maryam. It's nice to meet you."
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Floor 100
But when he saw Ion he entered it, trying to ignore the beautiful garden and the gem springs all around him. Ion seemed to be praying so Taiki stood to the side, not wanting to disturb him, but wanting to check if he was alright after all that had happened.
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It hurt too much to stay in a Daath that wasn't really Daath. It was almost worse to see it perfect but an illusion than it was to see it dead but real. Almost.
He caught Taiki's small form out of the corner of his eye and a flash of several emotions passed through his face: surprise, guilt, shame, relief. Relief that he hadn't done anything to the boy when they had run into one another while Ion had been under the effects of his brainwashing. Hope that nobody else had laid a hand on him, either.
"I...sorry, I didn't see you there..." He wanted to apologize for what had happened; for being unable to do so much as signify the boy's existence when he had wanted to so desperately. Especially when Taiki had followed him with such (warranted) concern. Ion found himself unable to figure out precisely how to go about it.
So, his heart heavy, his gaze fell to his feet.
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He got a little closer and blinked at him, "I'm sorry you're sad..."
Sorry, sorry! It's been a long, crazy week. *n*;;
He shook his head. "You haven't intruded at all. If I'm being honest, I'm glad that I can speak to you again. I wanted to apologize for...for being so unresponsive the last time we saw one another." A touch of embarrassment twisted at the corners of his smile as he explained, "I would have, if I had been able, but I'm afraid I lacked the strength."
Even being brainwashed, Ion didn't like to think of himself as impolite. Though, it could have been worse. He had ignore Taiki, but there were others who hadn't been so fortunate. Maybe it was a small blessing.
"I can't help being sad," Ion admitted softly, though he did his best to continue to look encouraging. "But I'm not going to let it overcome me. All things pass in time." And it wasn't as if he had much of a right to be sad. There were others that had had it far worse. He needed to be strong. He owed it to his friends to pull through this and act like the Fon Master he was raised to be.
But oh! He was being rude, and talking too much about himself. "How are you feeling, Taiki?"
No worries <3
"I'm glad... it's easy to be sad here... sorry... but we need to try to not be..." And that was hard, very hard indeed. Taiki thought that Ion was really brave to be trying so hard after what had happened to him.
He shuffled his feet again, "I'm... better than I was... there's not so much blood..."
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Floor 100 (..ig..nore how ridiculously late I am)
What was unfamiliar and not unfamiliar at the same time was the green-haired boy. To her eyes, he was in front of that obelisk, his arms folded in a gesture that Sheba recognized as prayer. She'd seen it so many times in her childhood, at the Sanctum. She'd seen it less often in Tolbi.
She knew that this wasn't really Lalivero and that Ion wasn't really seeing her hometown, but she couldn't help but step onto the floor anyway. She approached him slowly, giving him the chance to finish his prayer, and then cleared her throat.
"Do you mind if I ask what you see here?"
Shhhh /pets/ ALL THINGS GOOD COMES TO THOSE WHO WAAAAAIT
He smiled, because it was all that he could ever seem to do. "Sheba, hello. I'm glad to see you well." The specifics weren't necessary. He knew that she'd know what he meant. Though, to be fair, he probably would have said the same on an ordinary day. The words just meant more, now, than they ever had. The Fon Master shook his head as he took a few more steps away from the alter that didn't exist, to more casually hold conversation. "I don't mind at all."
Quiet for a moment, Ion looked around. He wondered if any of his friends from Auldrant saw Daath, though he highly doubted it. Daath wasn't home to them like it was to him. "A Cathedral," he answered simply, then with a small chuckle, "not to be confused with the one on floor thirteen."
His smile fell, very slightly at the corners. "This one is much brighter. It's warm, and welcoming, and a place of hope." No ominous, vaguely-haunting whispers filled it. The whispers in the Daathic Cathedral always seemed to carry a feeling of lightness due to the faith in Yulia's Score. "Though...I may be a bit biased, considering I lived there. I wouldn't doubt it if the others, here, that come from Auldrant told you differently."
It wouldn't be the first time he had let his gentle heart cloud his judgement.
u_u
As he explained what he saw, she looked around. It was odd how two people could be looking at the same place and see two vastly different scenes. There was no cathedral to her eyes... but it was home.
If she focused hard enough, she could almost convince herself that she could hear the chattering of people in the marketplace, smell the salty sea breeze, feel the warmth of the near-desert sun on her skin. But it wasn't real. It couldn't be.
"It sounds beautiful." She smiled. What was important wasn't the appearance, but the feelings behind it. Ion was lucky that he had such good memories of the place he spent so much time. "I wish I could see it..."
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"How about you? May I ask you what you see?" He was curious. He hadn't talked to anyone else about their homes away from the Tower, yet. It felt kind of rude; he really did want to more about the friends he was making. Ion just hoped he wasn't overstepping any boundaries with the question.
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She's tried not to think about it too much.
Her gaze shifted from the obelisk to the buildings when Ion asked his question, and in spite of her doubts, she smiled. "It's the most beautiful city in the world. Not as big as some, but - I like it better that way. It's bright and open, and there's a lot of sunlight. It's dusty and old. The city's ancient, the ruins to the north are even older... but it's beautiful. There's a desert to the west, and ocean to the east and the north..." Her voice has become a little wistful. "It looks just the way I remember it. At least, I think it does. Even before I was brought to this place... it had been awhile since I'd been home. It's probably changed since then, and I just don't know it yet."
over two months later...
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