[replica model] • LUKE FON FABRE (
fabrecation) wrote2011-07-03 07:42 pm
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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.]]
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
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What are you, some kind of infant!? It's water, deal with it!
[Uuuugh this is why he never wants to deal with this trash. He's not even going to bother responding to the second part.]
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[Curiosity gone, mostly, because uuuugh now this guy is just starting to piss him off!]
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[And he doesn't care if Luke gets lost or pneumonia or whatever. His death would mean a week of no obnoxious pre-Akzeriuth dreck.]
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... Except he still doesn't know who this guy is.]
Who the hell are you, anyway?!
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Whether or not this is a bad idea, Asch isn't sure, but at least the problem is likely to be temporary. So he pushes the journal in a way that allows him to face it head-on, eyes narrowing. A picture's worth a thousand words, after all.]
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Luke was not expecting that whatsoever. The person he was talking to, with his voice and red hair, though darker, is...
He looks just like him.
Any irritation disappears as his eyes widen in shock, and he falls heaving from his knees to his bottom, just staring at that little picture with his face. What...?]
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That's all you need to know. You should follow my advice if you want to survive here.
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[He's not holding his breath, but.]
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[After staring at that image, seeing himself yet not, Luke has to lean out of the journal's range to cough into a trembling hand, trying to fight down that sick feeling in his stomach. His face, his voice - what was that person - Asch doing with them?
Thankfully, he's able to fight it down. He still leans out of range, though, because while that immediate feeling has lessened, his stomach is still churning. His throat feels dry when he speaks, and he keeps his hand over his mouth.]
Why- [Do you look like me?] You're- [Not me, but-] Wh... What did you say?
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[The truth is obviously messing with Luke, so Asch doesn't bother sharing more. Knowing he has a lookalike out there is probably enough.]
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I'm... I'm seeing things, aren't I? You can't... Why do you have my face?!
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...Well okay, not at all, but the faint glimmer of hope for it is gone again.]
Idiot, and just how often do you hallucinate?
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I'm not an idiot! But you're... No one ever told me about a brother, so you can't be...
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You are not my brother!!
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Then who are you?!
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Stop asking me that damned question! It's not your business!
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You're so obnoxious...
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[Without another word he slams the journal shut. He's going to stay far, far away from this particular replica until whatever's going on has worn off.]
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[Aaand the journal just got shut on him.
...
WELL. With another frustrated growl, Luke throws the journal down and presses it into the mud with his foot.]
I'm not a clueless dreck, you stupid bugface!!