fabrecation | 015 [Written/Voice]

[The handwriting that suddenly appears is very sloppy, but still somewhat readable. It's a combination of being drugged, having messy handwriting in the first place, and having a cast on his arm to have to work around.]

I don't really remember what happened, so I'll try to write what I can here.

A weird girl attacked us while I was practicing with Master Van. She sang this song that made us all sleepy (a "fonic hymn", he called it... What's that?). I tried to stop her, but all of a sudden this... incredible power appeared between us, and next thing I knew I woke up here without a shirt on.

I don't see that girl anywhere... She probably ran off. She'd better not be going to attack Master Van again! That girl's got a lot of nerve, barging in on our practice session like that! If I see her again...!

Whatever that power was, it threw me somewhere I'm not familiar with. And it took my shirt and my pants! Now I've got these scratchy white pants, and I'm in the middle of some forest! I don't know how to get back, but I remember Master Van saying that moss grows on the... south side of a tree, so I guess I'll

[The writing suddenly stops. After a moment, the video button is accidentally brushed against as the writer appears to be busy flipping between pages with an ever increasing frown. The writer himself has the exact face and hair color of one Luke fon Fabre, but something seems... different about him. His hair is much longer, and the ends of his hair fade to a blond color, just like his wings, which he has not noticed yet. After a few more seconds of looking at the pages, he clenches his teeth and growls, and that's the last you'll see of him from the journal, because he just threw it aside.]

This isn't even my diary! Dammit, where the hell am I?!

[He gets up and glares off in the distance. And though you can't see him, you can certainly hear him as he yells off in a random direction.]

Hey, girl! Come out here and face up to what you did! You're a Malkuth soldier, aren't you? Are you trying to kidnap me again?! When my father hears that you kidnapped the son of Duke Fabre again, you'll be sorry you even tried attacking us!

...

And what the hell did you put on my arm?!

[He's not talking to anyone in particular. In fact, he really wishes he'd hear a response. He's mostly yelling just to get some kind of answer – even that girl would be nice by now. Luke has no idea where he is, nor how to get back... Maybe she'll know.]

[[ooc: Replies will be made with

bratacus! And for the record, the Malnosso healed all his injuries; they were just too lazy to take the cast off. If anyone came to visit him while he was in the clinic, he probably got them to sign their name on it, so. Just a little tidbit.]]

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And I've never set foot outside of it.

[He says it in a challenging way, as if he's still wondering how Sokka knows him if he's never been in the manor and Luke himself has never been outside of it.]

[Challenge unaccepted. Sokka just stares at Luke's image, surprised.]

Not once? Doesn't it get kind of stuffy in there?

You're telling me. I've been wanting to get out for years! Everyone says I have to stay locked away until my coming of age. They say it's "to keep me safe" or something.

[Of course, if the outside world is like this, then he can't really blame them that much. THIS PLACE SUCKS.]

Coming of age? How old are you?

[Cuz coming of age is fourteen, man.]

Seventeen. I get out when I'm twenty.

[Three more years, maaaan.]

Seventeen? And you haven't come of age yet?

[Laaaaaaaame.]

... Are you making fun of me?

[... possibly.]

There's nothing wrong with being a late bloomer.

Shut up! I'm not the one who gets to decide when the coming of age ceremony is! If I had my way, it would've been years ago!

Relax, Luke. It's not a big deal. Different cultures and stuff.

... Whatever, I don't care about other cultures. I just want to get back to my own.

Well don't get in too much of a rush.

[He ponders a bit, looking at the journal image.]

You're not inside, are you?

Do you see anything that looks like I'm inside?

How should I know? Maybe you're overly fond of windows. You did say you spent all your time indoors.

Sure, I like windows, but I wouldn't get wet from standing by one!

So... maybe you should get out of the rain instead of talking to people on a magic journal, huh?

I'm under a tree, and I don't even know where this village everyone's talking about is!

Have you tried looking for it? I mean... you've got people looking for you by now, right?

Yeah, but I don't want to get more lost out here. Besides, my feet are dirty enough as it is!

Oh no. Dirty feet.

... Shut up! Do you know how gross this feels right now?!

No, of course not, I've never once got my feet dirty. How awful is it?

[Luke has the vague feeling that he's being made fun of... But for the most part, he takes that literally.]

It's awful! It gets stuck between your toes and it's just gross! Dammit, where're my shoes?!

[Oi... it would be so much easier if he could be apathetic about these things.]

Well... [Then again!] I'm sure someone will find you and get that horrible mud off your feet.

Good. This is such a pain... and I'm getting drenched, dammit.

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markofthewise - 2011-07-08 20:16 (UTC) - Expand