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31_days2008-01-27 09:58 pm
sophiap.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2008-01-27 09:58 pm
[Jan. 27] [D.Gray-Man] End of Days, Part 27
Title: End of Days pt. 27
Day/Theme: Jan. 27/the private wound is deepest
Series: D.Gray-Man
Character/Pairing: Ensemble, with a few OCs.
Rating: PG-13
Part 26
The Noah's arms scythed bonelessly through the air. A back handspring allowed Allen to evade them, but they were coming at him again, forcing him to concentrate on evasion.
"Run! Go get the others!" he yelled, but he had no idea where Dolores was. There was a patch of darkness where she had been. No time to look closer--again, he barely dodged the Noah's attack.
What others were there to get? Half the Order was down sick. They only had a handful of functioning exorcists. Lavi and Miranda might be able to fight, maybe...
He invoked Crown Clown, using the Cross Grave attack to sketch a quick warding in the air, buying himself time.
... but Lavi's weapon was destroyed and he was weak, and last he saw, Lenalee could barely walk.
The Noah's arms smashed through the wards. Her body lengthened, extended, and Allen slashed out at her with his left hand as she darted towards him like a snake.
He would have connected, but his feet tangled in something and he went flying headlong. Allen was able to tuck and roll back to his feet quickly enough, but he nearly stumbled again when he saw that he'd tripped over Misha's legs.
Try not to think about that, he told himself, trying not to remember the other boy's soft laughter.
There were so many people he had failed. People he'd barely met. People he barely knew. People he should have hated. People he had no reason to want to save. He knew others wondered why he tried so hard to save the unsaveable, knew that some people had even loathed him for it.
The Noah slashed past him, cutting a deep gash in his right arm, jarring against bone. He thought he hit her, though, with Edge End.
He'd never met Suman Dark when he was whole and sane. Misha, he'd not even known less than an hour ago. Lala wasn't even human. He'd reached out to the scrap of humanity he'd seen in Tyki Mikk and he'd nearly paid dearly for it--and Tyki had lost whatever humanity he had left.
He screamed and rushed at her, left hand extended, right arm hanging useless and slick-warm with blood where it wasn't clammy with shock and sweat. He connected, but her form changed and he simply flowed right through her.
Mana had taken him in, had adopted him less than a day after they'd first met. Allen had taken on that kindness, that grace as his own, finding it as natural as breathing to be as giving as the man who had given so much to him. So natural, but now, but now...
He'd not been prepared for emptiness and he howled with frustration. How was he supposed to grasp something that kept changing, that kept eluding him, that kept becoming something other?
There had to be some way to stop her. He had to stop her before anyone else got involved. He would just have to ignore the pain in his arm.
The pain in the side of his face as his eye activated he couldn't ignore it. It wasn't just his face; the shock of sensing a half-dozen Akuma rippled throughout his entire body.
* * *
"I met him, you know. Walker."
Rondine gave one of his long, pursed-lip nods rather than saying anything. He and Jamie were looking for the other two, and as usual, they'd walked along mostly silently. From time to time, Rondine might offer some wistful non-sequitur about how Tosca would premier next year, or how strange it was that there was another Jamie out there, and another Giuseppe, and maybe their other selves sensed that something was amiss.
The only reaction Jamie gave to any of these comments was a sidelong look when he mentioned her other self. Eventually, he gave up trying to draw her out. For the moment. Jamie may have been a sullen, cantankerous, bloody-minded harridan-in-training, but she was far from a lost cause.
So, when she spoke up with no prompting, it was cause to pay attention and to hold his own tongue for a while.
"Not what I expected, not by half." She kept her voice at a whisper to avoid agitating her Innocence. "A bit wet, really."
Rondine hmmmed and waited for her to say more. He took them up towards the Generals' quarters; Dolores used to--would one day--go up there to enjoy the sunlight. It was early morning, but they weren't in their rooms as they should have been.
Jamie didn't say anything else, so Rondine tossed a light prompt out to her, one that wouldn't be viciously batted back into his face. "A bit 'wet'? I'm not sure what that's supposed to mean. He'd been swimming?"
That actually got him a bit of the rough, rapid breath that passed for laughter with Jamie. "Nice try. You're not dumb--you know exactly what I mean. He's not the sort of person you'd expect to be able to stand up to a custard, let alone the bloody Earl himself."
"He was a great and gentle man," Rondine said. "I for one am thankful that if someone had to have the kind of power he had, it was him."
That power had not saved him, in the end. So many years bearing a parasitic innocence had worn him down. Not horribly--he hadn't spent his last months bedridden and wasting away the way Klaud Nine had, but it was enough that when a piece of shrapnel pierced his skull (right through his scar, the rumors said, but Rondine dismissed those as window dressing), his innocence had not been able to save him.
Jamie's silence shifted, giving him the freedom not to speak for a while as he thought about Walker. The man was supposed to be the one who ended time, and instead he'd been caught by bit of bad ordnance that had gone off accidentally in the aftermath of a fight against two level three Akuma.
They entered the hallway, and saw no one in Dolores's usual window seat.
"Think they've gone to the mess hall?" Jamie asked.
"Perhaps."
They continued on in silence for a moment, but it was an active silence, with the muscles in Jamie's jaw tightening over and over again. Once she opened her mouth and Rondine waited, but all she did was clamp her jaw tight again.
"I asked him about my father," she said just before they reached the mess hall, and for a moment Rondine could not believe he had just heard what he had heard. "Didn't say who I was, so you can shut your gob, right? But I asked him."
He wasn't sure what surprised him more, that Jamie had asked Walker about her father or that she was telling him about it now. Jamie had made it violently clear that this topic was cordoned off with concertina wire. Some sort of talking cure might have helped, but Jamie rarely talked.
That said, her silences were easy to read, once you knew what to look for. Whatever Walker had told her had struck deep, so deep that Rondine had no idea if the wound would heal, or if it would simply close over and fester.
These were all weighty thoughts, enough to crush them if they allowed it, but these thoughts were blown away like down when the klaxon sounded.
With no idea what was going on, or where it was happening, they ran into the mess hall. Jamie recognized Klaud Nine and took off after the other women. Rondine headed back towards the labs, hoping to find some answers about what was going on.
Part 28
Day/Theme: Jan. 27/the private wound is deepest
Series: D.Gray-Man
Character/Pairing: Ensemble, with a few OCs.
Rating: PG-13
Part 26
The Noah's arms scythed bonelessly through the air. A back handspring allowed Allen to evade them, but they were coming at him again, forcing him to concentrate on evasion.
"Run! Go get the others!" he yelled, but he had no idea where Dolores was. There was a patch of darkness where she had been. No time to look closer--again, he barely dodged the Noah's attack.
What others were there to get? Half the Order was down sick. They only had a handful of functioning exorcists. Lavi and Miranda might be able to fight, maybe...
He invoked Crown Clown, using the Cross Grave attack to sketch a quick warding in the air, buying himself time.
... but Lavi's weapon was destroyed and he was weak, and last he saw, Lenalee could barely walk.
The Noah's arms smashed through the wards. Her body lengthened, extended, and Allen slashed out at her with his left hand as she darted towards him like a snake.
He would have connected, but his feet tangled in something and he went flying headlong. Allen was able to tuck and roll back to his feet quickly enough, but he nearly stumbled again when he saw that he'd tripped over Misha's legs.
Try not to think about that, he told himself, trying not to remember the other boy's soft laughter.
There were so many people he had failed. People he'd barely met. People he barely knew. People he should have hated. People he had no reason to want to save. He knew others wondered why he tried so hard to save the unsaveable, knew that some people had even loathed him for it.
The Noah slashed past him, cutting a deep gash in his right arm, jarring against bone. He thought he hit her, though, with Edge End.
He'd never met Suman Dark when he was whole and sane. Misha, he'd not even known less than an hour ago. Lala wasn't even human. He'd reached out to the scrap of humanity he'd seen in Tyki Mikk and he'd nearly paid dearly for it--and Tyki had lost whatever humanity he had left.
He screamed and rushed at her, left hand extended, right arm hanging useless and slick-warm with blood where it wasn't clammy with shock and sweat. He connected, but her form changed and he simply flowed right through her.
Mana had taken him in, had adopted him less than a day after they'd first met. Allen had taken on that kindness, that grace as his own, finding it as natural as breathing to be as giving as the man who had given so much to him. So natural, but now, but now...
He'd not been prepared for emptiness and he howled with frustration. How was he supposed to grasp something that kept changing, that kept eluding him, that kept becoming something other?
There had to be some way to stop her. He had to stop her before anyone else got involved. He would just have to ignore the pain in his arm.
The pain in the side of his face as his eye activated he couldn't ignore it. It wasn't just his face; the shock of sensing a half-dozen Akuma rippled throughout his entire body.
* * *
"I met him, you know. Walker."
Rondine gave one of his long, pursed-lip nods rather than saying anything. He and Jamie were looking for the other two, and as usual, they'd walked along mostly silently. From time to time, Rondine might offer some wistful non-sequitur about how Tosca would premier next year, or how strange it was that there was another Jamie out there, and another Giuseppe, and maybe their other selves sensed that something was amiss.
The only reaction Jamie gave to any of these comments was a sidelong look when he mentioned her other self. Eventually, he gave up trying to draw her out. For the moment. Jamie may have been a sullen, cantankerous, bloody-minded harridan-in-training, but she was far from a lost cause.
So, when she spoke up with no prompting, it was cause to pay attention and to hold his own tongue for a while.
"Not what I expected, not by half." She kept her voice at a whisper to avoid agitating her Innocence. "A bit wet, really."
Rondine hmmmed and waited for her to say more. He took them up towards the Generals' quarters; Dolores used to--would one day--go up there to enjoy the sunlight. It was early morning, but they weren't in their rooms as they should have been.
Jamie didn't say anything else, so Rondine tossed a light prompt out to her, one that wouldn't be viciously batted back into his face. "A bit 'wet'? I'm not sure what that's supposed to mean. He'd been swimming?"
That actually got him a bit of the rough, rapid breath that passed for laughter with Jamie. "Nice try. You're not dumb--you know exactly what I mean. He's not the sort of person you'd expect to be able to stand up to a custard, let alone the bloody Earl himself."
"He was a great and gentle man," Rondine said. "I for one am thankful that if someone had to have the kind of power he had, it was him."
That power had not saved him, in the end. So many years bearing a parasitic innocence had worn him down. Not horribly--he hadn't spent his last months bedridden and wasting away the way Klaud Nine had, but it was enough that when a piece of shrapnel pierced his skull (right through his scar, the rumors said, but Rondine dismissed those as window dressing), his innocence had not been able to save him.
Jamie's silence shifted, giving him the freedom not to speak for a while as he thought about Walker. The man was supposed to be the one who ended time, and instead he'd been caught by bit of bad ordnance that had gone off accidentally in the aftermath of a fight against two level three Akuma.
They entered the hallway, and saw no one in Dolores's usual window seat.
"Think they've gone to the mess hall?" Jamie asked.
"Perhaps."
They continued on in silence for a moment, but it was an active silence, with the muscles in Jamie's jaw tightening over and over again. Once she opened her mouth and Rondine waited, but all she did was clamp her jaw tight again.
"I asked him about my father," she said just before they reached the mess hall, and for a moment Rondine could not believe he had just heard what he had heard. "Didn't say who I was, so you can shut your gob, right? But I asked him."
He wasn't sure what surprised him more, that Jamie had asked Walker about her father or that she was telling him about it now. Jamie had made it violently clear that this topic was cordoned off with concertina wire. Some sort of talking cure might have helped, but Jamie rarely talked.
That said, her silences were easy to read, once you knew what to look for. Whatever Walker had told her had struck deep, so deep that Rondine had no idea if the wound would heal, or if it would simply close over and fester.
These were all weighty thoughts, enough to crush them if they allowed it, but these thoughts were blown away like down when the klaxon sounded.
With no idea what was going on, or where it was happening, they ran into the mess hall. Jamie recognized Klaud Nine and took off after the other women. Rondine headed back towards the labs, hoping to find some answers about what was going on.
Part 28