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Entry tags:
- *event,
- books of magic: tim hunter,
- fullmetal alchemist: alphonse elric,
- gundam wing: zechs merquise,
- hikaru no go: akira touya,
- kuroshitsuji: grell sutcliff,
- legend of zelda: vaati,
- loz: oot/mm: link,
- moon child: sho,
- nanoha: fate t. harlaown,
- nanoha: hayate yagami,
- nanoha: nanoha takamachi,
- one piece: marco,
- one piece: smoker,
- one piece: usopp,
- pokemon: april (au),
- pokemon: tobias hayes (au)
The Inspection
On the whole, the weather had been temperamental lately. One minute, it was absolutely bucketing it down, and the next, it was bright sunshine. The amount of rain had turned the ground into a muddy mess, but at least the tents provided perfectly adequate shelter, and a gazebo had been erected over the community dining table to protect everyone from the elements.
Despite the temperamental weather, however, it had been fairly warm throughout the past two weeks, so the chill in the air during dinner that evening was particularly noticeable, even before the dark, hooded figure by the Ministry's representative's desk had been seen.
Nervously, the Ministry representative approached the table.
"I'm afraid we have a visitor," he said, addressing everyone at the table and hoping that anyone not there could hear him. "This is a Dementor, one of the Guards at Azkaban. It's a high security prison. He's just here to, well, ensure that a certain escaped criminal isn't hiding amongst you.
"I don't expect he'll be here for more than an half an hour, so do try not to worry too much. They can make people rather, well... uncomfortable."
Bowing his head slightly, he left the Outsiders to their meal.
[And so, a Dementor is lurking around the camp, just in case one of the Outsiders is secretly Sirius Black. They're known to sap the happiness out of the environment, and - in cases where there are true horrors in someone's past - cause traumatic memories to resurface.
The chilly, depressed feeling can be lifted by the deliciousness of chocolate, though the Outsiders will need to discover this on their own. Good thing there's dessert.]
Despite the temperamental weather, however, it had been fairly warm throughout the past two weeks, so the chill in the air during dinner that evening was particularly noticeable, even before the dark, hooded figure by the Ministry's representative's desk had been seen.
Nervously, the Ministry representative approached the table.
"I'm afraid we have a visitor," he said, addressing everyone at the table and hoping that anyone not there could hear him. "This is a Dementor, one of the Guards at Azkaban. It's a high security prison. He's just here to, well, ensure that a certain escaped criminal isn't hiding amongst you.
"I don't expect he'll be here for more than an half an hour, so do try not to worry too much. They can make people rather, well... uncomfortable."
Bowing his head slightly, he left the Outsiders to their meal.
[And so, a Dementor is lurking around the camp, just in case one of the Outsiders is secretly Sirius Black. They're known to sap the happiness out of the environment, and - in cases where there are true horrors in someone's past - cause traumatic memories to resurface.
The chilly, depressed feeling can be lifted by the deliciousness of chocolate, though the Outsiders will need to discover this on their own. Good thing there's dessert.]
no subject
He hovers behind the stranger's chair, unsure if he's already too far inside their personal space.]
Are you okay? [Yes, it's a stupid question. He couldn't just ignore them, though.]
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I-Yes. ...N-no.
[His teeth are chattering too much for him to really speak. ]
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As long as talking isn't visibly making anything worse, he's going to carry on talking. It's the least he can do.]
I don't think you're the only one in here who isn't. Just let it all out.
no subject
I just-couldn't, I'm no good at anything, not even when it-.
[He's blubbering too hard to be very coherent. He hates how pathetic he's being right now, but what can he do? It's like the dementor ripped the scab from a fresh wound and drove a blade into it.]
no subject
He glances round for a moment, then pulls up a nearby empty chair.]
You don't have to tell me what you're thinking about if you don't want to, but, you know... everyone's good at something. It's just easy to forget sometimes.
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I can't do things when they matter...
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He leans slightly forward in his chair.] Well, sometimes things just don't work out, and it's nobody's fault. That doesn't mean it wasn't better to try anyway.
[Then he hesitates, just briefly. The Dementor isn't getting to him as badly as it might if he had all of his memories - he can tell; they're like an itch at the back of his mind - but he isn't exactly immune, either. Still, if it'll help cheer the kid up even a bit, he can brush it off.]
If you don't know whether you can do something that matters, and you decide you're too scared to find out... that's worse, I think. So you're probably braver than me.
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I ran.
[There, he said it. He sniffles miserably, trying not to start crying again.]
I couldn't kill her.
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Is... is that a bad thing?
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[That all came out in an incoherent rush.]
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You didn't want to kill her. That's not wrong.
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[His eyes are filling with tears again. It's hard being just about the only person on the planet who has no desire or reason to kill anyone else! Kind, passive people have no place in troll society.]