fabrecation | 026 [written]

[It's so bad now that Luke feels like he can barely get out of bed except for necessary needs. It's... honestly kind of strange. Sure, he's scared, and sure, he hates having to lay here and just wait for it to happen, despite writing and drawing to pass the time. But he isn't quite as terrified as he was just a month ago.

It's like he's accepted that this is happening in a quiet, somber sort of way.

There's pain every day, he's tired every day, he's thin and pale and looks as if he's just wasting away, as if he's all that's left after tiny pieces of himself slowly just... faded away. Even his hair seemed not quite as full as it ought to be.

He hated it, yes. But it's happening. And he's close to fading away completely, he knows that. Maybe that's why he's mostly okay with this. It can finally be over.

He'd only flipped through the journal to keep track of everyone. Now, though, he can't help being morbidly curious, in a way. So, making sure that he himself is out of sight, he writes slowly to the masses.]

If someone told you that you didn't have much longer to live, what would you do about it? What would you do with the last days of your life?

[It's a question that could be asked even by a curious healthy person, something to get people to think. He can think of it that way, and get answers that he might just need because of it.]

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[Luke's quiet for a long moment. A friend wrote it... it's a very good story. But in a way, Luke can't help thinking of himself, being different from the others, crying and crying until...

He wraps the blanket tighter around himself before he reaches over to write again.]

That's a really good story. But... it's really sad.

Oh. Guess that makes sense.

[He pauses, wondering if he should ask his next question. The situation Luke is describing just seems so bizarre with so few details that he gives in to his curiosity.]

Why wouldn't they care?

It is. But writing it helped him a lot. He told me the point of the story is that the meaning of our lives is something we make, but don't see.

What can you cook?

[Sanji's stomach tightens when he hears that voice. Damn, he hadn't wanted to be right.

Rather than bring more attention to the obvious, he spares Luke a calculating glance before he continues on]

Yeah, you're getting better. You're one of my better students now.

Whatever you say.

[he still doesn't believe you, but he'll leave it at that.]

Be supportive and just stay by their side. Just spending time with you, friend or family, should be enough.

[With limited time, any last moments they manage to spend will always be precious and special.

He knows this and being in Luceti just confirmed it to him (he have time to think, not plan for war).]

I hope so!

But yeah, it is. Really? What do you train with, then?

I really do believe they would forgive you. Mad at first, yes, but they'd forgive you in the end. [No one can stay mad forever]

No, I'm not in trouble. Don't worry about it.

... Everything'll be fine later, all right? [When he comes back, anyway.]

Well...

See, what happened was...

... Imagine a drug, I guess. [It's how his master described it, and it's the first thing he thinks of.] A drug everyone likes because it makes them feel like... the world will be better. But if they keep taking it, it actually makes everything worse, and everyone would die because of it.

So... in a way, we took that drug away.

Like the lake...

[There's another pause while Luke looks down at the covers again, and when he writes again, the letters sway downward, as if he's not looking at the journal nor looking at what he writes.]

Your friend is really something else. Maybe I should

[...looks like he's getting distracted]

Should what?

... Stuff? I've gotten pretty good at a lot of things, so...

... You really think so?

[He sounds hopeful. Learning to cook properly has been something he'd been trying to achieve for a while now, so he tries hard and pays attention well. It's... good to hear that it's all paying off.]

Of course I do!

And I think you're ready to try some of the harder level stuff.

When you put it like that, I guess it makes sense everybody'd freak out.

[He's seen the effects taking away a drug can have, though it's still hard for him to imagine something on such a huge scale. Most of his focus is directed towards the microcosm of his Family and friends; he has no idea how he'd even deal with a situation like that. There's a long pause as he tries, and gives up, on finding something to say.]

Good luck with it, I guess. Hope it doesn't take too long for things to stop being crazy.

Later, huh?

Just...take care, okay? ♥

[Luke may be an idiot, but like she had said before, he had changed. She has faith that he can handle...whatever it is that's bothering him.]

What does she like, then?

I guess that'd go both ways, huh... whether it's you or them.

Thanks. Sorry for picking such a depressing topic to talk about. [But, well. It did help him think about things a little more.]

Edited 2012-09-07 01:44 (UTC)

No problem. And it's alright. If my answer can help you out even a little, then I don't mind the depressing topic.

[Somewhat. It just reminds me, yet again, of his own missed opportunity.]

Myself. And, well... other things too. But I fight with the sword and my fists and stuff like that. That's how I fight. [And he sounds pretty proud of it, too.]

Heh... Wouldn't it be nice if you could just skip the whole "mad" part? [Goodness knows he had enough of it from certain other friends who found out.]

[And another pause... before he realizes he wrote something, and that maybe he ought to finish that thought, especially with Minato waiting.]

Write something of my own. It probably won't be as good as the one you told me... but maybe it'll help me a little, too.

Edited 2012-09-08 01:31 (UTC)

I am?

[There's obviously excitement in his voice, and he very nearly shuffles into view. But no, he holds his legs tighter just to prevent that. No one needs to see him this way.]

So... what kind of stuff's in the harder level?

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