黒崎 一護 // Kurosaki Ichigo (
suppressthedark) wrote in
asgardmeridiem2012-09-19 06:05 pm
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And we smile, but never say too much; The moment always vanishing// [OPEN]
Who: Ichigo (
suppressthedark)and YOU!
What: After his Hollow's little rampage, Ichigo finally wakes up and has to face what he's done.
When: Day 146.
Where: The hospital in Sigyn.
Rating: Uhhhh pg13?
[When he finally joined the rest of the living world, three days had slipped by. Three whole days and nights, laying silent and prone in the hospital room given to him, his body attempting to heal from the extremely traumatic ordeal it had been put through. The hollow hadn't given a damn about sleeping or eating, and the last fight that had made him stop...
...It had almost killed him, and he fears his life was bought with someone else's.
But for now, there's no one else in the room, at least no one he can see. Trying to turn his head only makes his still healing muscles complain, and when he lifts a hand (after accidentally trying to use the one with the ripped shoulder) to his neck, he can feel the new scar that's spread across his throat. No stitches, but then it hadn't needed it-it had been healed shut, anyway, but there was still tissue that needed to be regrown.
To that matter, he honestly would look like he'd been hit by a truck to anyone that actually saw him right now. That new scar at his neck, the blotchy purple bruising around his now mostly healed nose-and all over his back as well-the obvious stitches on his shoulder wound and the one near his neck, the wound running down all the way down and stopping just in front of his hips, and the myriad small wounds, cuts, and stabs he'd suffered. Add pale skin and large, heavy bags under his eyes to all of that, and you could say for certain that he feels as bad as he looks. Even worse, actually, since he was still weary to the bone and feeling no small amount of pain. But he doesn't feel like asking for anything to stop the pain, or even care that his body is going to be scarred up to all hell.
I deserve it, he thinks to himself.
Looking around the room, he can see some evidence of someone-or multiple someones-having been in his room at some point in time, although he'd be hard pressed to guess when. It's difficult even moving his eyes around in his head, and he'd really like nothing more than to go back to sleep and escape all of this, especially the guilt that's practically choking him, but it doesn't seem like he'll be able to go back to sleep so easily for a while. So-what else can he do?-he decides to just wait, closing his eyes with a sigh before opening them again miserably.
Patience never was his strong point.]
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What: After his Hollow's little rampage, Ichigo finally wakes up and has to face what he's done.
When: Day 146.
Where: The hospital in Sigyn.
Rating: Uhhhh pg13?
[When he finally joined the rest of the living world, three days had slipped by. Three whole days and nights, laying silent and prone in the hospital room given to him, his body attempting to heal from the extremely traumatic ordeal it had been put through. The hollow hadn't given a damn about sleeping or eating, and the last fight that had made him stop...
...It had almost killed him, and he fears his life was bought with someone else's.
But for now, there's no one else in the room, at least no one he can see. Trying to turn his head only makes his still healing muscles complain, and when he lifts a hand (after accidentally trying to use the one with the ripped shoulder) to his neck, he can feel the new scar that's spread across his throat. No stitches, but then it hadn't needed it-it had been healed shut, anyway, but there was still tissue that needed to be regrown.
To that matter, he honestly would look like he'd been hit by a truck to anyone that actually saw him right now. That new scar at his neck, the blotchy purple bruising around his now mostly healed nose-and all over his back as well-the obvious stitches on his shoulder wound and the one near his neck, the wound running down all the way down and stopping just in front of his hips, and the myriad small wounds, cuts, and stabs he'd suffered. Add pale skin and large, heavy bags under his eyes to all of that, and you could say for certain that he feels as bad as he looks. Even worse, actually, since he was still weary to the bone and feeling no small amount of pain. But he doesn't feel like asking for anything to stop the pain, or even care that his body is going to be scarred up to all hell.
I deserve it, he thinks to himself.
Looking around the room, he can see some evidence of someone-or multiple someones-having been in his room at some point in time, although he'd be hard pressed to guess when. It's difficult even moving his eyes around in his head, and he'd really like nothing more than to go back to sleep and escape all of this, especially the guilt that's practically choking him, but it doesn't seem like he'll be able to go back to sleep so easily for a while. So-what else can he do?-he decides to just wait, closing his eyes with a sigh before opening them again miserably.
Patience never was his strong point.]
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Ah -- Ichigo-niisan?
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...Conan? Come in.
[It's not like he can really do anything about it, after all. Maybe talking to someone can help get his mind off what's happened.]
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Ha ... Ichigo-niichan's seen better days!
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Sure have.
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I don't know much about old poetry, but I read that Thomas Wyatt's supposed to have influenced a lot of poets that came after him, and it seems he had an interesting life, so I thought Ichigo-niisan might find him interesting while he rests.
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Eek!! Y-you're up!
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[It's sarcastic, but it's a teasing sarcasm, like the jokes they often used with each other.]
I'd sit up, but....you know.
[Injured and all.]
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[ she grins and sets her bag down, then pulls up a chair. ]
Welcome back.
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[Another joke? kind of, but at the same time...it's also got quite a bit of guilt in it.]
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Kurosaki-kun? Are you awake?
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Yeah.
[Still, that look on his face...that face should be familiar to her. It's the feeling of guilt and self-blame, and maybe even self-loathing.
He should have fought harder.]
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Then he slowly relaxes, and while he doesn't hug her back, he shifts his weight a little to lean on her a bit, closing his eyes for a moment.]
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[For the past three days, Ezio has been there for two, sitting in the windowsill and watching him recover. The first, he was in his own bed and room, recovering from exhaustion and the last wound he received from Ichigo's hollow. He's been in and out, sometimes running across Orihime and other times on his own. All the same, he's there because of concern, and brotherly worry.
After all, most of those wounds came from him.
Still, to see him moving, and even trying to be awake is promising. Now, all he needs is to get rid of his guilt. Caterina pointed it out clearly when he carried him to the hospital, and it's one he's determined to get out of his system, one way or another.]
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I am.
[And he's glad he can't see Ezio more than just out of the corner of his eye-Ichigo doesn't know if he could face him face-to-face.
After all, he still thinks Ezio died from healing his neck wound, and that is something that would not go easily. Nor was it just simple guilt-it was also self-blame and hatred, that he didn't fight fucking hard enough to stop it before all of this happened.
He still doesn't remember anything, either. Only that moment when he woke up, and then passed out after freaking out a little.]
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If you are going to spend your time here blaming yourself, don't.
[He sits in a chair right by the bed, arms crossing and head tilting, giving him a slightly amused look, but also somewhat stern. Heads up, this is probably going to be another lecture from your future-sensei, Berry.]
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He still doesn't say anything, but the guilt is practically rolling off of him in waves.]
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Soft-spoken human-shaped colossal failure. ]
It stays white. The ceiling.
[ He does, in fact, have enough experience to say so. To know those absent little looks.
...and to cough rather awkwardly, because there is no discreet way to transition from intruding on someone's post traumatic recovery to polite conversation. ]
-- sorry. They said you wanted... needed...
[ And this might be a strategic time to fuss with the lunch trey in his hands. ]
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At any rate, he blinks before nodding once, gesturing him closer with his good hand.]
Thanks.
[He is hungry, seeing as the hollow hadn't eaten when he was out and then he slept for three days straight, but he's not quite sure he can feed himself properly, as the arm that's injured is his dominant one.]
...I haven't seen you around before.
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'I wasn't around for you to see.'
'I'm not staying.'
Perfectly good answers to a perfectly wrong situation. He nods, taking entirely too long with an otherwise peace-loving mobile table, before setting it up on Ichigo's lap and abandoning the trey there. ]
Rice gruel.
[ Because the very unfortunate white mass in that one bowl apparently had to be introduced as if it were his firstborn.
...a pathetic, family-shaming, tasteless firstborn.
Nervous laughter - ]
...it's fine if you don't eat most of it.
[ Somehow, he can't help staring from the little bowl, its spoon, and Ichigo's bounty in bandages. Surely... the patient'll manage... somehow... ]
Actually... actually, they know you probably can't stomach it yet. But most people find soup too depressing.
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[He gives a grin that doesn't even attempt to be sincere, as he's far too injured in both body and mind to put up his normal facade properly.]
I'll eat a little, anyway. Or try to. My dad's a doctor, so I know a little about this kind of thing.
[That, and he's been injured more times than he can count-but never like this. He grabs a spoon in his left hand, and with a shaky hand manages to get a bite into his mouth, although the metal clangs against his teeth. Mostly tasteless, and his stomach cramps painfully as it realizes food is heading it's way, but hell, it's something.]
...'M not used to using this hand.
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Hahah I love how awkward this thread is
sooooobbbbbbbb they're like water and oil, with a lot of shifty-eyeing.
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lol that wasn't supposed to be small last tag
I. Although my heart is tender and frail, I shall find it in me to. To forgive you.
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1/2 I AM SORRY
The sleep was good only because Alice had slept for so long from that blunt force to her head.
Wait.
Now she remembers the last thing she saw. The first thing that comes to her mind is her vorpal blade. She pops up immediately, scanning around the room for the blade.
The hospitals here are weird. It's a creepy, white room, with most of her belongings, including the blade, left in plain sight. How strange, but it's still a hospital. That's not her worry at the moment, as Alice nearly trips as she scrambles to get her boots on and run out the door.
How many people were hurt?]
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But nothing's more alarming when she sees that familiar patch of orange hair and Alice stops.
She's shaking. She's furious. Alice remembers that damn hit well enough and the vorpal blade is posed in her hand, very visibly.]
You! What have you done?!
/SCREAMING
This, of course, changed as soon as Alice storms into his door, yelling and aiming a knife at him. It makes him tense, bringing a look of pain onto his face as his wounds are jolted around.]
Wh-what are you-?
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Answer the question. What did you do?
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