Ga҉n̸t͏a I̕g̡ara̷şh̕i ͜| woo҉d͏p̛e̸ck̨er (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
woodpeckermaruta) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-09-17 07:10 pm
woodpeckermaruta) wrote in towerofanimus2013-09-17 07:10 pm
I started writing the ending... I said too much. And you just kept on pretending... for both of us.
Characters: Ganta Igarashi, Wretched Egg, Hagire Rinichiro
Setting: Floor One/Cafeteria for breakfast; Floor Ninety/Lagoon around noon; Floor Seventy-Four/Cavern [closed thread] around afternoon; then ANYWHERE after the incident on that floor
Format: Will start prose, but will also match.
Summary: The first two places, he will be all mopey and sadface at whoever approaches. Floor Seventy-Four shenanigans will ensure, then the last place will be for himFREAKING THE HELL OUT attempting to properly register what just happened. Good times.
Warnings: First Place: Sadness and anger--he might try to chase people off with apathetic words.
Second Place: Possibility of abrupt ending of thread. Spontaneous chest pain will have him trying to leave whoever he's talking to. Stubborn characters welcome.
Third Place: [CLOSED] There will be a great deal of violence/anger/mindfuckery in this one, possibly?
Fourth Place: Characters who get their feelings hurt easily should approach him with caution.
Also: Language.
[FLOOR ONE | CAFETERIA]
He can be seen sitting in the far corner, picking at his food. He doesn't look happy, to say the least. This past--wait how long has it been? A week? Two weeks? Month?... Whatever the case, now that he has no idea where (or how) Shiro is, he's definitely finding it difficult to really even care (to say the least). This place is bad enough, as it is. The black-haired teenager really has no desire to fight against this place, anymore. Not that he wishes to die, or anything--he simply has no desire to give a fuck about what the Tower does. Heck, he couldn't die in this place, even if he wanted... right?
Sighing, he plops his head down beside his plate, idly staring at the wall beside him. Huh. He's isn't hungry, after all.
With an empty expression on his face, he slides the fork around on the plate for a moment. After a couple of minutes, he slowly stands and gathers his things. After a moment's pause, he is carrying everything to the back. Forget it... He shouldn't have even bothered trying to eat, since it had turned into a waste of time. He pauses after setting his plate down, staring at the wall a moment--he is obviously deep in thought, for a good thirty seconds.
His movements are slow as he turns and begins leaving. Maybe he should just go back to his dorm room and sleep. Yeah, sleeping actually sounds like the best thing...
Even if it is still early in the day.
[FLOOR NINETY | LAGOON]
He stares up at the water fall, a blank stare resting on his face. He had decided against going back to bed, though he doesn't look too terribly happy about this decision. Suddenly, his expression tenses and he clenches his teeth, his hand shooting to his chest. He blinks as the pain vanished as quickly as it had shown up. What was that, just now? He hasn't felt that pain in... a while.
Shifting, slightly, he blinks as a head suddenly emerges from the water. Oh, right... this place has mermaids. Looking away, he leans back and begins staring up at the ceiling. Strange how easy it is to forget exactly where you are, when you enter a floor such as this one...
[FLOOR SEVENTY-FOUR | CAVERN]
His chest had finally stopped hurting, so he was back to distracting himself via exploration. He has never been on this floor, before... The cavernous floor is actually really cool, in his opinion. It does not take long, though, before he suddenly realizes something that sends a chill down his spine.
He is lost.
Looking around, his eyes widen drastically. It is dark, too, so that definitely does not help matters, at all. Just as he can hear a growl from somewhere within the cavern, the familiar and intense pain cuts into his chest. Eyes snapping shut, he drops to a knee and grips it with one hand--his other hand pressing against the wall, a pained sound escaping him. Damn it...
Why is it so much worse, this time?!
The black-haired teenager can hear what sound similar to footsteps. He's unable to tell where they're coming from, though, considering the way the sound is being carried. Slowly opening his eyes, he fights through the pain to stand. Someone (or... something?) is in here with him. Turning his body towards where he guesses the sound is coming from, he freezes. What if it's a monster? This place is dark...
Damn it, why did he even come here?!
[ANYWHERE]
He doesn't even know where he's going, or even that he's running. All he knows is that he has to go. Breathing heavily, it is obvious he has been running for quite some time. The tears have long stained his face, and he is looking similar to someone who just witnessed the murder of a loved one.
Really, that is how it feels, though... Like he just lost someone dear to him.
Suddenly, he is falling, without even the desire to catch his balance. He lands face-down on the floor, and does not even bother getting up, at first. He lays there, the visions of the incident, earlier, playing over and over in his mind. That... was all a dream... right? It wasn't real... right? He imagined it, didn't he? The Tower can do that! It can make you see things that aren't actually there! So... that has to be it.
"It's not... real," he whispers, but the next sentence is choked out as a whimpered sob manages to escape, "Why is this happening?!"
He curls into a ball, as though he does not even care that he is in the middle of the floor; and, really, he doesn't. He doesn't care who sees him. He just wants it all to go away. This is all too cruel to be any form of reality, and... just... The irony of it all! She had been his friend.
Ganta's voice returns to a whisper, but the whimpering sound remains. "Shiro...why...?!"
Setting: Floor One/Cafeteria for breakfast; Floor Ninety/Lagoon around noon; Floor Seventy-Four/Cavern [closed thread] around afternoon; then ANYWHERE after the incident on that floor
Format: Will start prose, but will also match.
Summary: The first two places, he will be all mopey and sadface at whoever approaches. Floor Seventy-Four shenanigans will ensure, then the last place will be for him
Warnings: First Place: Sadness and anger--he might try to chase people off with apathetic words.
Second Place: Possibility of abrupt ending of thread. Spontaneous chest pain will have him trying to leave whoever he's talking to. Stubborn characters welcome.
Third Place: [CLOSED] There will be a great deal of violence/anger/mindfuckery in this one, possibly?
Fourth Place: Characters who get their feelings hurt easily should approach him with caution.
Also: Language.
He can be seen sitting in the far corner, picking at his food. He doesn't look happy, to say the least. This past--wait how long has it been? A week? Two weeks? Month?... Whatever the case, now that he has no idea where (or how) Shiro is, he's definitely finding it difficult to really even care (to say the least). This place is bad enough, as it is. The black-haired teenager really has no desire to fight against this place, anymore. Not that he wishes to die, or anything--he simply has no desire to give a fuck about what the Tower does. Heck, he couldn't die in this place, even if he wanted... right?
Sighing, he plops his head down beside his plate, idly staring at the wall beside him. Huh. He's isn't hungry, after all.
With an empty expression on his face, he slides the fork around on the plate for a moment. After a couple of minutes, he slowly stands and gathers his things. After a moment's pause, he is carrying everything to the back. Forget it... He shouldn't have even bothered trying to eat, since it had turned into a waste of time. He pauses after setting his plate down, staring at the wall a moment--he is obviously deep in thought, for a good thirty seconds.
His movements are slow as he turns and begins leaving. Maybe he should just go back to his dorm room and sleep. Yeah, sleeping actually sounds like the best thing...
Even if it is still early in the day.
He stares up at the water fall, a blank stare resting on his face. He had decided against going back to bed, though he doesn't look too terribly happy about this decision. Suddenly, his expression tenses and he clenches his teeth, his hand shooting to his chest. He blinks as the pain vanished as quickly as it had shown up. What was that, just now? He hasn't felt that pain in... a while.
Shifting, slightly, he blinks as a head suddenly emerges from the water. Oh, right... this place has mermaids. Looking away, he leans back and begins staring up at the ceiling. Strange how easy it is to forget exactly where you are, when you enter a floor such as this one...
His chest had finally stopped hurting, so he was back to distracting himself via exploration. He has never been on this floor, before... The cavernous floor is actually really cool, in his opinion. It does not take long, though, before he suddenly realizes something that sends a chill down his spine.
He is lost.
Looking around, his eyes widen drastically. It is dark, too, so that definitely does not help matters, at all. Just as he can hear a growl from somewhere within the cavern, the familiar and intense pain cuts into his chest. Eyes snapping shut, he drops to a knee and grips it with one hand--his other hand pressing against the wall, a pained sound escaping him. Damn it...
Why is it so much worse, this time?!
The black-haired teenager can hear what sound similar to footsteps. He's unable to tell where they're coming from, though, considering the way the sound is being carried. Slowly opening his eyes, he fights through the pain to stand. Someone (or... something?) is in here with him. Turning his body towards where he guesses the sound is coming from, he freezes. What if it's a monster? This place is dark...
Damn it, why did he even come here?!
He doesn't even know where he's going, or even that he's running. All he knows is that he has to go. Breathing heavily, it is obvious he has been running for quite some time. The tears have long stained his face, and he is looking similar to someone who just witnessed the murder of a loved one.
Really, that is how it feels, though... Like he just lost someone dear to him.
Suddenly, he is falling, without even the desire to catch his balance. He lands face-down on the floor, and does not even bother getting up, at first. He lays there, the visions of the incident, earlier, playing over and over in his mind. That... was all a dream... right? It wasn't real... right? He imagined it, didn't he? The Tower can do that! It can make you see things that aren't actually there! So... that has to be it.
"It's not... real," he whispers, but the next sentence is choked out as a whimpered sob manages to escape, "Why is this happening?!"
He curls into a ball, as though he does not even care that he is in the middle of the floor; and, really, he doesn't. He doesn't care who sees him. He just wants it all to go away. This is all too cruel to be any form of reality, and... just... The irony of it all! She had been his friend.
Ganta's voice returns to a whisper, but the whimpering sound remains. "Shiro...why...?!"
no subject
"Shit happens with friends. All you gotta do is apologize sincerely and try to make up for it in any way you can. If they're your friends, they'll forgive you, eventually. Even if it takes forever."
Ishtar didn't like hearing that, especially from a little boy no less. She didn't want him to suffer because he wasn't human anymore. She kept a firm grip on him still and tried what she could to at least reassure him that she wasn't the type of person to abandon people.
"Darres is right. It doesn't matter what you are or where you came from. Hell, your past doesn't even matter. You're here now, regretting and wanting to fix things. It's not something I would abandon someone for. Human or not, you're still living and breathing like everyone else."
She saw what he did to his thumb and what came out of it. She watched carefully and quietly, but it didn't faze her. She was used to it, people using multiple different types of abilities. She only pressed her hand on the thumb to heal it after a few minutes.
no subject
Maybe they weren't as normal as he had thought, maybe they really were just... that understanding and open-minded. Ganta felt stupid for judging them, out of fear of being judged. What a hypocrite, he'd been. When Ishtar healed him, he could feel the tears stinging his eyes. Again, with the tears. He really was just a fourteen-year-old boy.
He gave in and was leaning forward into the firm grip Ishtar had managed to keep on him. Really, he was relieved to have found these two--he couldn't deny that. As much as his mind screamed 'no, don't get comfortable', he actually needed it. He needed a friend, and here he had two. After the hell of Deadman Wonderland, followed by the hell of the tower, ... followed by the hell of finding out the truth about Shiro...
... He was just too exhausted to fight it. So he let himself cry, a little, promising himself it'd be the last time he looked that weak. When he spoke, it was a whisper--though, it should have been loudly enough for the both of them to hear.
"...Thank you."
no subject
"If you ever need help...we're here." They won't always have an idea of what to do, or if they could do anything at all, but they would support him to their fullest. "You're never alone." Not as long as they're around.
no subject
"You're always welcome. I might not be able to offer much either, but what little I can offer, I promise it will be meaningful. Darres too, of course."
She knew that Darres was always the way she was on certain things. Hell, Darres was even more caring than she could ever be, "Yeah, he's right. We'll make sure you're not alone."
no subject
It was a comforting thought, honestly. He tried not to hold onto those words--those promises he was being granted. He didn't say anything for a moment. When he was done crying, he wiped his face; and, leaning back, he let a sniffle escape. That was the last time, he silently promised himself. No more being pitiful...
And, really, why was he always so pitiful? He looked from Darres to Ishtar, then let out a sigh. He rubbed the back of his neck and frowned just a tiny bit.
"I appreciate that. Really, I do; but... you can't promise something like that, in a place like this. We... None of us know how long we'll be here. Or what could happen, period. But..."
He managed a smile, "But, I still feel the same way you do. As long as I'm here, I'm going to fight hard. So, thank you."
His expression turned firm, "I'll do whatever I can to help you guys, too. I'm done being weak! This place is too tough for anyone to lay around crying about everything! So I'm through acting like a little kid!"
no subject
"We're here for you in the present." Always the present. It was the one place where promises had a chance of sticking.
"As long as we're here, you can come to us."
Just to clarify that he was being realistic with what he was trying to convey. Darres did enjoy the enthusiasm Ganta had. It meant the kid still had fight in him.
"You're not as weak as you think."
no subject
"I'll keep it for as long as I can. Out of everyone I've known, I've always outstayed them. I can at least promise that."
Ishtar replied after a moment of silence. She didn't know how much longer she could push her luck, but right now it was fine to say that, because she wanted to believe in it.
"That's the spirit Ganta. Don't give up before the fight has started and thank you. I'm happy to know that you have my back as well."
She ruffled his hair now, because it was fitting and because Ishtar was just the type of person to do embarrassing things to people. She was glad that he was a lot better, that he seemed content. That was all she asked for really. She didn't want to give him false hope, but what little she had done for him so far, she would keep trying to do.
"Darres is right, you know? You're a hell of a lot stronger than I'll ever be at your age. I admire that about you," she chuckled, "Now, let's get you washed up. You look like a mess kiddo."