Asch the Bloody (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bloodyashes) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-09-20 11:34 pm
bloodyashes) wrote in towerofanimus2013-09-20 11:34 pm
[and once upon a yesterday]
Characters: Asch and various; see individual prompts
Setting: Cafeteria kitchens, any day the first half of the month [open]; 81st floor lounge, any day 11th-15th [open to everyone except Sheba]; the beach floor, afternoons 16th-18th [closed to past, semi-close CR]; Asch's room the morning of the 21st [closed to the two Lukes]
Format: You guys know me by now.
Summary: Cooking lessons with Jenna! And... anyone else who might want to eat; FRIENDSHIP; VAN GIVES ASCH FEELINGS so he blows up sand; DYING IS SUFFERING.
Warnings: Mentions of psychological/emotional manipulation in the third prompt; aftermath of death in the last.
[Cafeteria kitchens]
[It's that time again! Riki's menu is far better than his predecessor's (as usual), but that doesn't mean Asch is satisfied with it. So it's not too uncommon to find him down here again, stirring or sauteing or something, no cookbook for reference more often than not.
Whether you're here because you want to learn something, want to filch some of whatever he's making, or some other reason, the brief breaks he takes to put pans in the oven and dishes in the sink are probably the best times to snag his attention.]
[81st floor]
[Friendship is a tangled mess. So are friendship bracelets.
It seems childish, to be sitting here on a beanbag with a pile of string in his lap, but if children can do it then it shouldn't be this hard to learn!
Of course, it doesn't help that every sound of footsteps has Asch snapping his head up from the small chain of knots tied to his boot-garter, eyes seeking out the source of the sound in a brief panic. Losing his train of thought that way has already left him backtracking an hour's worth of work. There's a book of knots and more string dumped onto the couch next to him.
Ironic, that the Lucky Pepper Sheba forced on him last week seems to have made him lucky enough to avoid her.]
[Beach, floor 62]
[He doesn't know what to do with himself for a couple hours after the encounter with Van. Asch is a ball of pent-up aggression, stomping his way around everywhere, and his usual haunts are no comfort.
Eventually, he winds up here on the beach, determined to fuel this energy into something useful. And hell, why not the thing that made him useful in the first place?
Even if it isn't a real hyperresonance, it feels real, and it requires just the same amount of calm and clarity to control safely. It's a way of forcing himself to not be emotional about it, a way to expend his energy without doing something terribly stupid, and he needs the practice, anyway. The first few lines are jagged, the motion of the glowing gold slow, but eventually it smooths out, the waves gently washing away any evidence of the first few attempts. On a whim, he tries a curve, a squiggle, a string of letters - hyperresonance and the sound of the waves make an oddly soothing combination.
Luckily, no one's going to miss the sand.]
[Asch's room/fonic link]
[He wakes up and it's okay. He remembers drowning, remembers bubbles leaving his throat, remembers Natalia's smile, but it's okay. He's back and he's safe and -
he is not o k a y
And this time, there's no one showing up to help keep him steady. This time there's nothing to do but writhe in his own skull. And this time, the hallucinations are starting, just the vague sense of someone, something standing over him, waiting -
The poor unfortunates that share his fonon frequency (both of them, because he doesn't care) will first feel it not so much as a headache, but almost like a mouse scrabbling at the walls of its cage. get me out get me out get me out is the only thing that comes across with any clarity, but there's plenty of panic and a deep-seated flash of terror in the message.
...You may wish to go check on Stupid Redhead Senior, guys.]
Setting: Cafeteria kitchens, any day the first half of the month [open]; 81st floor lounge, any day 11th-15th [open to everyone except Sheba]; the beach floor, afternoons 16th-18th [closed to past, semi-close CR]; Asch's room the morning of the 21st [closed to the two Lukes]
Format: You guys know me by now.
Summary: Cooking lessons with Jenna! And... anyone else who might want to eat; FRIENDSHIP; VAN GIVES ASCH FEELINGS so he blows up sand; DYING IS SUFFERING.
Warnings: Mentions of psychological/emotional manipulation in the third prompt; aftermath of death in the last.
[Cafeteria kitchens]
[It's that time again! Riki's menu is far better than his predecessor's (as usual), but that doesn't mean Asch is satisfied with it. So it's not too uncommon to find him down here again, stirring or sauteing or something, no cookbook for reference more often than not.
Whether you're here because you want to learn something, want to filch some of whatever he's making, or some other reason, the brief breaks he takes to put pans in the oven and dishes in the sink are probably the best times to snag his attention.]
[81st floor]
[Friendship is a tangled mess. So are friendship bracelets.
It seems childish, to be sitting here on a beanbag with a pile of string in his lap, but if children can do it then it shouldn't be this hard to learn!
Of course, it doesn't help that every sound of footsteps has Asch snapping his head up from the small chain of knots tied to his boot-garter, eyes seeking out the source of the sound in a brief panic. Losing his train of thought that way has already left him backtracking an hour's worth of work. There's a book of knots and more string dumped onto the couch next to him.
Ironic, that the Lucky Pepper Sheba forced on him last week seems to have made him lucky enough to avoid her.]
[Beach, floor 62]
[He doesn't know what to do with himself for a couple hours after the encounter with Van. Asch is a ball of pent-up aggression, stomping his way around everywhere, and his usual haunts are no comfort.
Eventually, he winds up here on the beach, determined to fuel this energy into something useful. And hell, why not the thing that made him useful in the first place?
Even if it isn't a real hyperresonance, it feels real, and it requires just the same amount of calm and clarity to control safely. It's a way of forcing himself to not be emotional about it, a way to expend his energy without doing something terribly stupid, and he needs the practice, anyway. The first few lines are jagged, the motion of the glowing gold slow, but eventually it smooths out, the waves gently washing away any evidence of the first few attempts. On a whim, he tries a curve, a squiggle, a string of letters - hyperresonance and the sound of the waves make an oddly soothing combination.
Luckily, no one's going to miss the sand.]
[Asch's room/fonic link]
[He wakes up and it's okay. He remembers drowning, remembers bubbles leaving his throat, remembers Natalia's smile, but it's okay. He's back and he's safe and -
he is not o k a y
And this time, there's no one showing up to help keep him steady. This time there's nothing to do but writhe in his own skull. And this time, the hallucinations are starting, just the vague sense of someone, something standing over him, waiting -
The poor unfortunates that share his fonon frequency (both of them, because he doesn't care) will first feel it not so much as a headache, but almost like a mouse scrabbling at the walls of its cage. get me out get me out get me out is the only thing that comes across with any clarity, but there's plenty of panic and a deep-seated flash of terror in the message.
...You may wish to go check on Stupid Redhead Senior, guys.]
no subject
[She wouldn't put it past Ruana to try and have them starve, going by the rumors that have spread about the administrator.]
Can't you also cook it whole? Some places we went to had it on a spit over a fire. Sheba liked that, for some reason. [Jenna makes a face. It hadn't been her cup of tea and she had wondered why Sheba liked the food from Kibombo so much, until she remembered that Lalivero was in Gondowan, too. Food from Gondowan was weird.]
no subject
[Unless she decides to throw a fit about the glamour being torn down and give them nothing but nutrition bars again, oops. It's Ruana herself they need to worry about.]
You can, but where I come from, that's usually only done by people on the trail, not in a proper kitchen. I suppose there might be a decent sized spit around here...