pandatreasure (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pandatreasure) wrote2017-12-24 12:44 am
pandatreasure) wrote2017-12-24 12:44 am
GRAVEYARD
[You know you must have died—nothing is ever easy around here, certainly not quick, so you must remember burning, bleeding, falling, dying?
And yet. You're waking up.
Do you recognize it here, once you pick yourself up off of the hard floor, maybe half-strewn across a couch or beanbag chair? This room died, too: you're in the library, good as new and maybe better than that, only barely smelling of burnt paper and you only sometimes kick up ash, just like those old wounds that finished you off only ache every now and again, dully.
The book selection isn't quite the same as you remember it—all the bad erotica that didn't die is missing here, sorry to say, but so are the books on everyone's home worlds. Snoop around enough and behind the librarian's desk, you'll find tablets: one for each participant of the game, and with enough experimentation, you'll find the one that reacts when you press the button. You're already logged into your Recyclr account and can read the feed, but the same rules apply: 140 characters, one tweet a day. The voting app is gone, replaced by a sort of security monitoring kind of app. Characters can view different rooms of the school, or even place a few side by side so they can view a few at a time, and they'll be able to see the living go about their day to day lives. There's even an archive of recordings, but only the important ones: murders, executions, investigations, trial highlight reels, and major events like libraries being burned down. Was watching yourself die once not enough? Boy have I got good news for you!!!
It's kind of exciting that you can go around touching stuff, probably, despite being super dead and vaguely transparent in a way you notice like your own breathing; you don't and then you do and it's all you can think about, but your tangibility only extends to the inanimate: try to touch any of your fellow deceased and you'll find that you just pass right on through like touching cold air.
The windows aren't bolted up with those big metal plates on this side of things, but look out of them anytime and it's just pitch-black and still outside, so that's demoralizing. There is, of course, the door out of the library—but for now it's locked up tight. Whatever is a ghost to do?]
((Recyclr
Offerings/Letters
Day 11
Day 14
Day 16))
And yet. You're waking up.
Do you recognize it here, once you pick yourself up off of the hard floor, maybe half-strewn across a couch or beanbag chair? This room died, too: you're in the library, good as new and maybe better than that, only barely smelling of burnt paper and you only sometimes kick up ash, just like those old wounds that finished you off only ache every now and again, dully.
The book selection isn't quite the same as you remember it—all the bad erotica that didn't die is missing here, sorry to say, but so are the books on everyone's home worlds. Snoop around enough and behind the librarian's desk, you'll find tablets: one for each participant of the game, and with enough experimentation, you'll find the one that reacts when you press the button. You're already logged into your Recyclr account and can read the feed, but the same rules apply: 140 characters, one tweet a day. The voting app is gone, replaced by a sort of security monitoring kind of app. Characters can view different rooms of the school, or even place a few side by side so they can view a few at a time, and they'll be able to see the living go about their day to day lives. There's even an archive of recordings, but only the important ones: murders, executions, investigations, trial highlight reels, and major events like libraries being burned down. Was watching yourself die once not enough? Boy have I got good news for you!!!
It's kind of exciting that you can go around touching stuff, probably, despite being super dead and vaguely transparent in a way you notice like your own breathing; you don't and then you do and it's all you can think about, but your tangibility only extends to the inanimate: try to touch any of your fellow deceased and you'll find that you just pass right on through like touching cold air.
The windows aren't bolted up with those big metal plates on this side of things, but look out of them anytime and it's just pitch-black and still outside, so that's demoralizing. There is, of course, the door out of the library—but for now it's locked up tight. Whatever is a ghost to do?]
((Recyclr
Offerings/Letters
Day 11
Day 14
Day 16))
no subject
. . .
[hi]
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Ichigo has talked to everyone at this point, too - and he...
...Doesn't really know how to feel. He doesn't even get his powers back after death, even if he's still in his shinigami uniform - and that was the one thing he was hoping he'd get back after his death. But...it makes sense the Raccoons would even take this away from him, wouldn't it?
So there's just a long period of silence, before -]
...I'm glad I kissed you before it happened.
[SINCE, YOU KNOW. THEY CAN'T EVEN TOUCH EACH OTHER.]
no subject
[that bit of levity gets an amused snort from Akira]
You know what? I am, too.
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I don't regret that, at least.
[...]
...I do regret not finishing Graham off last night, though.
[Then again, he'd be here with them and that would be really fucking awful.]
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[he regrets so much about Will. sooooo much about him. not targeting him instead of Erika. not being more vocal about voting for him at the trial. for trusting him, at all]
. . . what's done is done.
[he says, a bit dully]
We face our mistakes with our heads held high, and keep going.
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[...While we're both just...sitting here, being dead -]
...You saw the declaration the Raccoons made, right?
[Since it was on the tail end of their execution and all.]
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[links his hands behind his head and sags into the beanbag chair, eyes slipping shut]
Yeah.
[he absolutely saw it]
[sure didn't make him feel any better]
Glad to know I'm someone's prime entertainment, and someone else's perfect tool.
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[Oh hey, Akira? You were wondering where that anger was last night, huh?
Guess it's happening now, because he's made two people he cared about super angry at him through his actions. It's still gentle and not intense, but...it's still there.]
...you could have told us all you did it and to vote for Will instead. There'd be enough people to vote for him.
[But then-]
...But it was my fault for not realizing you were acting off. Or for even thinking that you could be responsible.
[Because -
of his blind, absolutely loyal trust in the people he cares about.]
...
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[eventually?]
. . . it isn't your fault.
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[Because - he's not dumb, and he's also himself.]
I should've been able to notice something was wrong. I'm your boyfriend for god's sake, I-
[He cuts himself off, running a hand through his hair while he gives a harsh sigh.]
...Don't...don't ever do anything like that again to me. Please. Just - Just talk to me, let me know what's wrong-! I can't help you or do anything if you won't let me...!
no subject
[his reply is quiet, but sincere]
I won't.
Ever again.
[good fucking lord he hopes he never is in a situation like this ever again where he feels compelled and forced into murdering someone]
no subject
But he knows Akira had his own reasons for not involving him - and yet it still aches to know that the person he loves would have let him condemn an innocent person to death if he hadn't tried to find out the truth.
And that hurts the most - knowing that Akira was willing to let him have blood on his hands, even if it was for a noble cause, was willing to betray his trust so deeply just to save everyone.
He swallows hard and looks away after a moment, nodding slowly.]
...Good.
[He doesn't say anything after that - just keeps quietly looking away.
But from Ichigo, that's basically a slap in the face.]
1/2
no subject
[his hand drops, falls neatly into his lap. his gaze flickers away, a melancholy sort of smile appearing on his features. right. . . right. nothing will ever be the same again. for a brief moment-- a fleeting moment, obviously, one that only existed because of their imminent deaths the next day-- he had let himself revel in his relief that things weren't permanently broken. but. . .]
[suck it up, Kurusu. whose fault is this? don't mope. don't cry. don't be sad. this is your doing. face every inch of it like the man you are]
Right. . .
[he leans back, linking his fingers together and stretching his arms in front of him]
I'm-- going to. . . [jerks a thumb over his shoulder towards one of the bookshelves] Look around. Get some rest. You look exhausted.
[. . . and with that, he pushes himself to his feet, slips his hands into his pockets, and departs to leave Ichigo to his own thoughts]
no subject
But for Ichigo, it's more that he's finally had time to think about all of this, to breathe and inspect what just happened. That, along with the obvious disapproval and perceived rejection from most everyone here...
It's no surprise he acts the way he does, now.
So while he wants to say something - wants to tell Akira that he still loves him, he ....
...he can't. Not now. Maybe not for a while, until he's done blaming himself for everything that's happened and holding onto his hurt.]
...Yeah. I am.
[And he turns around fully, not watching Akira as he leaves, letting his head rest on the beanbag.
...
There's nothing for it, is there?
Tomorrow he'll just do like he's always done whenever he feels alone.]
no subject
[he leaves it for a few hours. pokes around the library, watches the feed of other places in the school, sends a Recyclr message to help the living find a key. he talks to Rin, to Dazai, to Erika, to Tsumugi. he finds his resolve again. he remembers who, exactly, he is]
[and then he returns to where Ichigo is seated, dragging a beanbag up next to him and flopping on it. but not like a normal person!! nope, his head is where his feet should be, and his feet are. . . propped in the air. BASICALLY HE IS SITTING ON THE BEANBAG CHAIR LIKE A CAT WOULD. his glasses even slide off of his nose, onto the top of his head]
[he links his hands behind his head, peers up curiously at Ichigo]
Did you see Seto and Ulaz shove the major award into the meat grinder?
no subject
Ichigo's talked to a lot of people too, while Akira was away for a few hours. It all generally just made him feel worse, culminating with talking to Rin - and afterwards, he'd just returned to his beanbag, practically curling up in it, lying on his side and staring out blankly at a wall.
He hears the dragging, the sitting down - and he can't think of who it would be before Akira's voice rings out.
...Why so soon? He'd thought that his response would have scared him off, made him not want to see Ichigo anymore -
No. No, he can do this. All he has to do...is do what he's always done.
It takes him a second, not even giving any indication that he's heard - before turning around with a smile that would never be on his face in any other situation, a fake smile that doesn't reach his eyes even though he's trying so hard to act like nothing is wrong.
Slamming his mask firmly back into place, rolling up into a ball and protecting his already injured softness.]
Ah, no. I'll see if they recorded it so I can watch it later.
[His voice is even cheery and fake, none of any of the genuine warmth contained inside of it - just emptiness.]
I'm glad they don't have to deal with that thing anymore, though - it was bad enough when it was just following me around. I'm bet they're glad to be rid of it, right?
[There's a laugh, but just like the rest of his act - it's so very, very fake.]
no subject
[also? he sees through that act, because it's about as transparent as their ghostly bodies. there's a moment's pause, before he hoists himself up, so he's more on Ichigo's level. he totally isn't going to respond to that false cheer, as glad as he is that the major award is no longer following them around. so, he gets straight to it]
Do you remember what you told me, the night after we almost got ourselves killed?
no subject
[For a moment, he falters - that cheer falling into a hole, his mask slipping temporarily by the mention of that night - but then it's lifted back into place, although it's clearly strained.]
I said a lot back then, and my memory isn't always the greatest.
no subject
[. . . funny how that worked out]
You told me that I wasn't your leader. That I shouldn't feel guilty for dragging you into that room with me because you went willingly, as my partner. Not a follower. You asked me to let you support me, and. . . I did.
[he draws one knee up, and rests his chin against it]
Last night, I told you all of the reasons why I didn't come to you with my plan. They're all true. But--
[. . .]
[a tiny, barely perceptible shrug]
All that reasoning was the logic of a leader. Of someone used to making the tough decisions for the good of the whole. Of someone used to carrying and supporting others, even when things are tough. Of someone. . . stupidly willing to break himself and his bonds for the sake of others.
You told me last night that I didn't betray you because I confessed and stopped you from implicating Hiyori, but-- is that really true?
no subject
It takes him a while to gather up his thoughts, again. Because while he meant it at the time - that he wasn't betrayed - it took him being here to realize that he did feel betrayed, just a little. Because -
...Because this was something he should have been able to handle together with Akira.
When he finally speaks, it's quiet, low - with that pain from before clearly present in his voice as he stares straight ahead.]
...Why didn't you trust me enough to tell me what you did?
[He sucks in a breath, bringing up his legs to hug them to his chest.]
...it's not like I don't have any blood on my hands. I've had to kill to save people - more blood wouldn't make a difference.
[And honestly? Given enough time to calm down...he would have most likely had to make a decision between what he believed in and the person he cared for.
And Akira would have won.]
no subject
[he replies, even and firm, trying to make sure there is no room for doubt in those words. it was never a matter of not trusting Ichigo. . . it was--]
But I was thinking like a leader. Like someone who wanted to protect you, no matter the cost. Not like a partner.
[going to Akechi had made so much more sense in his mind at the time, despite their history. Akechi had experience with this. Akechi could make his false alibi more believable. Akechi could keep a secret. Akechi wouldn't try to talk him out of it, or try to make himself Akira's victim]
[and while all of that is true? well. Akira tilts his head slightly, searching out Ichigo's gaze with his own]
. . . and I'm sorry. About that.
no subject
He lets out a shuddering breath he didn't even know he was holding in at that, his hands reflexively tightening on his legs, fingers digging into hakama fabric, looking over - just in time for Akira to lock his eyes on him, his single one showing just how vulnerable he is in this moment.
Akira had wanted to protect him - him, even though he was the one who was supposed to be protecting others - and if Ichigo was in his place, then he'd probably do the same thing, not wanting to burden Akira with the decision he'd made...
Every time he thinks he can't cry anymore, the tears come from somewhere - but this time they just well up in his eye, spectral and glimmering despite how literally transparent he is.]
...Akira...
[He looks down, wiping at his eye with the back of a hand, letting out another shuddering breath.]
....I forgive you, you massive dumbass.
[His voice is next to cracking when he says it, but it's fond - oh so fond and loving.]
no subject
[but he isn't done just yet, because he thinks back to the conversation Rin had with Ichigo earlier, the one on which he eavesdropped]
I think everyone here has made a lot of mistakes. Bad decisions forced under pressure, and. . . [he shrugs] That sucks, you know? That sucks.
But nothing about what I chose to do is your fault. Absolutely nothing. And even if that isn't enough to convince you not to blame yourself, then remember-- we're not done yet.
[jerks a thumb towards the library, towards the locked door, towards the people behind them]
We still have a lot to do. We have to own our mistakes, hold our heads high and keep going, for the sake of everyone here.
no subject
Always, always astounded that Akira seems to just know the right things to say to get him back in the game, to get him standing on his own two feet again.
And while he'll always feel that he could have done something, that? Is enough to get him to stop wallowing in his own regret, to get him to face forward instead of focusing on the past.]
....You're right.
[He smiles - no, grins for the first time in what feels like forever, that fire and fierce determination returning slowly but surely to his eye.
They still have something to do, even when they're dead. And after all, shouldn't he of all people know that death isn't the end? He is, after all, a shinigami.]
There's no way I'm going to let it end here. Death isn't an end - it's a beginning.
[And -]
Besides - even if we don't get our bodies back, if we can get back to my world...I can just have Urahara make us all Gigais.
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