Tenjoin Asuka ([personal profile] cyberblader) wrote in [community profile] herobox2015-09-06 11:41 pm

be careful with the details of the war


Asuka doesn't remember much of Dark World. It all blurs together in her head after a point, like a dream badly remembered. She remembers the first month, and then some strangely degenerating thoughts, a whole-body sadness that had seized her. She understood "depression," a disease that belonged to other people, and the doctors said that some acute form thereof had seized her when she described it - but she's not so sure. She feels as though it had been some outside force that had poisoned her brain. But she can't say for certain. Her memories are rotting inside her.

Shou won't talk about it. He seems to know more than the rest of them. Asuka would beat it out of him if she could summon the anger, and the strength - but she can't, not for him. She can see, sometimes, a kind of horror behind his glasses. A horror, and a sadness, related to the brother that has vanished. She knows about brothers vanishing. She doesn't push him.

But Asuka has to talk to somebody about the things that have happened, or she's going to lose it. She can tell. She is on the verge of losing it. So she wanders around the hospital area until someone's visiting hours open up, when she ducks in.

It's Jim.

He's missing an eye. Well - he's missing the same missing eye. But she can see that it's bandaged up freshly, with fresh blood leaking into the gauze. Karen is sleeping beneath the hospital bed. Asuka sits down by the head of the bed. Jim's left eye flutters a little.

"Good morning," she says, a little unsure of herself. It's after noon, so she's already stretching it with the good mornings.
eyeofamiracle: (takenaback)

dream sequence because symbolism. or something.

[personal profile] eyeofamiracle 2015-09-07 05:24 am (UTC)(link)
Jim stands at the start of the ocean. The shoreline is clothed only in sand and foam from the drifting water. No footprints mark impressions into its body, no stones or shells glow against the sunlight in an effort to be found - no, he is alone in every way. But he's okay, he breathes easy and smiles as he gazes out at the sea, tracing the waves as the water starts to push further and further upwards against the shoreline. There's no islands in sight, no boats, there's barely a breeze. As he breathes, a pressure touches his eyes – eyes? – and he shifts back as if ready to fall backwards into the sand. He's tired but it's comforting, warm like the sun, and he suddenly wants to sleep. Of course it's a perfect day to sleep. And sleep. And sleep some more.

He staggers back a step and stands upright, his hand racing towards his mouth as it opens in reply to a sudden pressure in his throat, a demand of response. But all he gets is a yawn that rips through the sound of the waves like metal clashing – and it's loud in Jim's ears, deafening, and right when it ends, right when he feels his lips brush back against the palm of his hand, the water drifts over his feet.

His toes dig into the bed sheets. The sheets aren't warm like sand, and that fact alone is disorientating enough that he fidgets restlessly against the feel of the linen. His senses are coming back too quickly, his left eye fluttering before starting to open, and as he sees Asuka sitting at his bedside, he slowly understands why his dream demanded him to try to speak.

(It's not like he's understood that dream anyway, despite the nightly occurrences.)

"Well, aren't you a sight for a sore eye," he replies, all too aware that his charming grin is falling a little flat at the moment. But the meaning of his words are genuine.