[replica model] • LUKE FON FABRE (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fabrecation) wrote2012-07-13 12:42 pm
fabrecation) wrote2012-07-13 12:42 pm
027 [Video/Action]
[It starts with a hum.
It isn't enough to be discernible. It may just sound like a buzz from an insect flying nearbyready to be swallowed. Swatting at it would yield no results, though, seeing how the hum is coming from his head.
It turns into a whisper.
They aren't really words. They're snatches of letters, snippets of thought that pass through his unconscious mind. A wind, of sorts, as threads of the link begin to tie together and come alive once again.
It ends with words.
Weak, scattered and quiet, it seems to be a stream that passes through, from replica to original, words that pour from a sleeping mind to the newly formed link. It comes from the north side of the village, the complete opposite direction from where the link first faded into nothingness.
But it's there. It's there like a beacon, pulling, asking for him to be there.]
"here.
i'm here.
i'mherei'mhereaschaschaschcan'tmovecan'twhereareyou
help me"
He's alive.
And he's calling for him.]
[It's about two hours after the sun sets that the journal comes on, showing a familiar redhead looking away and rubbing the back of his neck. The area is somewhat lit, and it looks something like the front of Good Spirits. He just needed light, that's all.
The reason he can't look at the camera? Asch had told him that his death was announced over the journals. He had a right to know, after all. Here Luke had been hoping to just announce he was back like he went on vacation or something, sickness gone, health returned. But now everyone knows that he died.
There's probably a lot of people out there who are mad at him.
But he does finally look at the journal after a few seconds, and he gives a nervous little smile.]
Uh... hey. I'm back?
[He hopes to hear from at least two people. And if he doesn't, and soon, then he'll find them himself.]
((And a belated NSFW alert for the thread with Xion 8|b))
It isn't enough to be discernible. It may just sound like a buzz from an insect flying nearby
It turns into a whisper.
They aren't really words. They're snatches of letters, snippets of thought that pass through his unconscious mind. A wind, of sorts, as threads of the link begin to tie together and come alive once again.
It ends with words.
Weak, scattered and quiet, it seems to be a stream that passes through, from replica to original, words that pour from a sleeping mind to the newly formed link. It comes from the north side of the village, the complete opposite direction from where the link first faded into nothingness.
But it's there. It's there like a beacon, pulling, asking for him to be there.]
"here.
i'm here.
i'mherei'mhereaschaschaschcan'tmovecan'twhereareyou
help me"
He's alive.
And he's calling for him.]
[It's about two hours after the sun sets that the journal comes on, showing a familiar redhead looking away and rubbing the back of his neck. The area is somewhat lit, and it looks something like the front of Good Spirits. He just needed light, that's all.
The reason he can't look at the camera? Asch had told him that his death was announced over the journals. He had a right to know, after all. Here Luke had been hoping to just announce he was back like he went on vacation or something, sickness gone, health returned. But now everyone knows that he died.
There's probably a lot of people out there who are mad at him.
But he does finally look at the journal after a few seconds, and he gives a nervous little smile.]
Uh... hey. I'm back?
[He hopes to hear from at least two people. And if he doesn't, and soon, then he'll find them himself.]
((And a belated NSFW alert for the thread with Xion 8|b))
[Voice]
[Without another word, Ion's already closed the journal and headed out towards Good Spirits. At first he's running -- he doesn't want to keep Luke waiting -- but once he sees that familiar head of hair standing out there, he stops, completely out of breath.]
[He doesn't know what to say. It felt as though there was nothing he could say that wouldn't just sound strange or unnatural. How are you supposed to welcome someone back from the dead?]
[Eventually he starts forward again, stopping just a little ways in front of Luke.]
[He still doesn't know what to say.]
[And so, it's only due to a lack of other words that he simply says softly:] ...welcome back.
[Voice]
Thanks. [This is so awkward. It was awkward with everyone else, and it is with Ion, too. Luke glances away and runs a hand through his hair, feels a small wave of relief when he doesn't feel any hair fall out as a result, and quietly speaks up again.]
I'm sorry. I know we promised to tell each other things, but...
[Voice]
You have nothing to be sorry for, Luke. You were the one who...
[Voice giving out, he looks down towards the ground and tightens his hands into fists at his side. Luke just died. The last thing he needs to do is apologize for it.]
[Voice]
[He looks away, too. He doesn't particularly like remembering the fact that he'd died just a week earlier, even if it wasn't as bad or as painful as he thought it would be.]
I still didn't tell a lot of people. So... I'm sorry.