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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.]
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The look of it, while very unnerving for a boy afraid of almost anything, hadn't been what had done it. It had been that leeching -- that sapping of even the slightest positive feeling that had thrust those old feelings, those old memories and thoughts back upon the poor child. Those memories were not ones that he wanted to resurface, and certainly not ones he had ever been prepared to handle.
Which is why he had hit the ground and was now curled up in a ball, screaming like he was being slowly tortured and tears running down his face in a torrent.]
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EVERYONE FLOCKS TO THE WOOBIE apparently
of course!
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Open
Still, this wasn't so bad. It was kinda like a sorta exploration like mission thing. They were going to have to tell the Bureau what happened once they eventually got back or were found anyway. So approaching it like that was a good way to stay focused.
But why was it so cold all of a sudden?
Either way, she's going to slowly try to eat her dinner, even if the cold was keeping her from being that hungry for now.*
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[Still the feeling is chilling, and he draws his jacket a little tighter almost ready to zip it up. The seastone suddenly seems to be weighing heavier on him, as though holding him trapped. Too reminiscent of a Crocodile's cage. Faces drift through his memory, some terrified, locked up, to be executed, and some covered in blood. Others just looking to him for help.]
[Well, that was unpleasant.]
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OPEN!
He's sitting at the long table, surprised once food pops up in front of him. This is what he means by things being weird. He's sure he'll get used to it but...
By the way he's prodding at his food, it may take some time.]
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Truth is, he's been pretty disoriented all day - if it's one thing to dream about another world, it's another entirely to wake up in one and promptly be shuttled off to a campsite by a bunch of strangers. He's managed to smile and nod his way through it so far, but he's not sure how long he can keep that up.
Maybe the food just isn't that great? The longer he stares at it without touching it, the worse his mood gets, for some reason... It's not only that, though. Right now, he feels acutely alone. He can't even bring himself to give any of the other faces at this table more than a passing glance.
Eventually, he gets to his feet.] Um... excuse me. [Then he starts to make his way out, trying not to bump into anybody else's chair. He'll go and sit out in the rain for a while, he thinks. It might even help.]
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Open
So his only solution is to stay as far back in his tiny little tent as possible, goggles firmly on and smaller slingshot clenched in his hand, keeping the tent flap open just enough so that he can see without hopefully being seen too much. And hopefully whatever is giving him the chills can be hurt by a firey pachinko ball to the face. If not--oh man he is so screwed.]
[Anyone walking by can probably catch a glimpse of him, or maybe hear him muttering about how he's not scared and he's just biding his time and anything can come and try and get him if it wants, but not too hard. Unfortunate passersby might even get shot at, but it probably won't hurt too much]
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1/2
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1/2
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SO I HEARD YOU LIKE TOBY
TOBY'S A GOOD BOY
it shames me that I recognized that Naruto joke
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POPS!
[Memory: "Zehahaha!" An ugly mug, broken and missing teeth, a scraggly black beard and those eyes. He was laughing at them. Laughing at their failure. How dare that man have ever once called himself one of their brothers? How dare he?]
[Marco's just about ready to snap. He switches instantly into a fiery blue phoenix to rush to his father's side, to kill the traitor, to stop Whitebeard's death...]
[And just like that he blinks in confusion. Back at the campground. Che. What the fuck was that about? He's just going to curl up as a phoenix on the ground now until that dementor leaves him alone.]
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Snarls and roars, the sounds of battle, and the last words and dying screams of Pokemon after Pokemon. As happiness fades, it gives rise to all the doubts and guilt that she's been trying to work past. She squeezes her eyes shut and tries to block it out -
Nope.
Both hands slam down on the table and she pushes herself up from the seat.]
WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!?
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It reminded him of Toshi. The stupid bumbler who would always get messed up with his drugged pizza deliveries and always missed the loot and then - even though a gunshot wouldn't hurt Kei - took a bullet for the vampire.
Sho had enough of this. He had been poked at, been made to drink a potion (sure, it healed his bullet wounds but it tasted like old socks), had officials eye his armed state warily (like he would turn over his guns just because) and then was told that he had to stay put. And now there were kids crying with this creature hovering around. ]
What a bunch of assholes.
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Open!
The transmutation, Al, Mom, and Nina. He felt his breath catch in his chest, felt heat starting to build up behind his eyes, but he squeezes them shut, his fist pounding against the table.
He has no idea why or how it's happening, but he would not let this tear him apart. He was stronger than this. He was... he was...]
I'm... I'm so sorry. It was my fault. It was all my fault.
Open!
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OPEN
[And then, suddenly, it wasn't. He shivered, that was the start. Then his eyes went wide and blank. His hands tightened into fists in his lap as he stared at nothing.]
[He wasn't... he couldn't be... this couldn't be real. Not now, not when he'd tried so hard, sacrificed so much.]
[Tim raised his hands - hands that glowed - then forced them back down. That wouldn't help. Instead, he made himself speak - speak, not scream, though the terror rising in him was hard to control and his voice shook.]
Who... someone's doing this to us.
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He just felt cold, lonely and afraid.
It seemed to affecting some people a lot worse, though- one glance at the rest of the table proved that. He didn't normally speak at dinner unless he had to, but....]
Do any of you know how to get rid of this feeling?
[Haha, NOW he'd done it. He must look like a complete idiot, asking that.]
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Welcome to tear city, everyone! Transparent brown streams run down his face, the same colour as the scabs on the tip of his fingers. He weeps openly into his hands for a few minutes, then seems to shut down. He's not quite unconscious, but between having his face buried in his hands and hyperventilating, he's dead to the world.]
I'm so sorry... but I'm not sure if I'm sorry to your character or mine, lol
Better go for both of them, just to be safe, haha!
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Open
[Her expression stays calm, only getting a bit more downcast. Less hungry than before, she tries to eat her food quickly anyway just to warm up.]
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[Open]
[It's a gross mismatch, the tiny woman against the shrouded dementor, but what can it steal from her? How can it harm her? She stands, staring up at its floating figure... and a perceptive person might notice the glitter of righteous fury in her eyes, or how her right hand has curled into a white-knuckled fist.]
[When the staredown breaks, it is because the dementor has backed away. Lenneth turns her back on it contemptuously, and stalks back to the group, which may now be a little brighter and warmer for her efforts.]
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Feel free to have Lenneth sense really deep corruption or something -- Tobias is heavily infected.
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[Open]
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... Escaped criminals call for something like this to be pulled out?
This world is so inefficient.
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