[replica model] • LUKE FON FABRE (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fabrecation) wrote2013-04-15 10:16 pm
fabrecation) wrote2013-04-15 10:16 pm
029 [Action ; Voice]
[Action]
[... trash like you stole my family, my home... everything from me!
Every night since the draft, those words echo in his head along with images of what happened to both him and his original. Seeing Asch as a child, as the real Luke fon Fabre, happy and smiling, in the place where he belonged...
Then seeing it fall when Luke stole it away again. And having to see him kill their own mother, even though it was just a dream.
It's become even more of a chore to try sleeping. It's difficult when he keeps waking up from horrible nightmares, and when the darkness and silence lead to negative thoughts chasing each other and biting at his mind. It's a cycle that's been going on for a couple of months now, and has only gotten worse since the draft.
On such a night, he sits in the dark and looks down at the person sleeping beside him: his girlfriend, the love of his life. She'd miss him if he were to suddenly disappear and give Asch his title back, right? ... Right, he knows that.
So he disappears in a different way, merely getting out of bed, out of the building in general, to sit outside, pajamas and all, to lean his back against the wall and stare up at the night sky, cloudy and patchy that it is due to the previous rain. The stars he's looking at are fake, stupid and cruel, and yet somehow, he still finds comfort in them. They're of little use at the moment, and he finds himself at war with his own emotions, ones that keep making a wet, stinging sensation in his eyes that makes his vision blur and make him shut his eyes to try clearing them out and hold back the sensation, blocking his view of the stars.
Things are so messed up for him right now.]
[Voice]
[Going back inside won't help. Luke knows that he'd just sit there in the darkness and be unable to get some proper sleep again. So, might as well reach out and see if he can get some help with that.
He remembers long ago, when he had a similar sleeping problem. He'd asked over the journals just like this. A woman who dove into his dreams read him a book that made him fall asleep within minutes. The thought makes him give a fond little half smile before he lets it fall as he speaks quietly.]
Can someone talk to me? It doesn't have to be a story or anything, just... something. What you did today, what you want to do later, or – I don't know, what you were doing back in your world.
If... it's okay, anyway. You don't have to talk. I know it's late, and I'm sorry, it's just that...
I need to stop... thinking about things for a little while. That's all it is.
[... trash like you stole my family, my home... everything from me!
Every night since the draft, those words echo in his head along with images of what happened to both him and his original. Seeing Asch as a child, as the real Luke fon Fabre, happy and smiling, in the place where he belonged...
Then seeing it fall when Luke stole it away again. And having to see him kill their own mother, even though it was just a dream.
It's become even more of a chore to try sleeping. It's difficult when he keeps waking up from horrible nightmares, and when the darkness and silence lead to negative thoughts chasing each other and biting at his mind. It's a cycle that's been going on for a couple of months now, and has only gotten worse since the draft.
On such a night, he sits in the dark and looks down at the person sleeping beside him: his girlfriend, the love of his life. She'd miss him if he were to suddenly disappear and give Asch his title back, right? ... Right, he knows that.
So he disappears in a different way, merely getting out of bed, out of the building in general, to sit outside, pajamas and all, to lean his back against the wall and stare up at the night sky, cloudy and patchy that it is due to the previous rain. The stars he's looking at are fake, stupid and cruel, and yet somehow, he still finds comfort in them. They're of little use at the moment, and he finds himself at war with his own emotions, ones that keep making a wet, stinging sensation in his eyes that makes his vision blur and make him shut his eyes to try clearing them out and hold back the sensation, blocking his view of the stars.
Things are so messed up for him right now.]
[Voice]
[Going back inside won't help. Luke knows that he'd just sit there in the darkness and be unable to get some proper sleep again. So, might as well reach out and see if he can get some help with that.
He remembers long ago, when he had a similar sleeping problem. He'd asked over the journals just like this. A woman who dove into his dreams read him a book that made him fall asleep within minutes. The thought makes him give a fond little half smile before he lets it fall as he speaks quietly.]
Can someone talk to me? It doesn't have to be a story or anything, just... something. What you did today, what you want to do later, or – I don't know, what you were doing back in your world.
If... it's okay, anyway. You don't have to talk. I know it's late, and I'm sorry, it's just that...
I need to stop... thinking about things for a little while. That's all it is.
[action]
Stupid replica. Why the hell are you apologizing for saving someone's life?
[He's reminded of Rapunzel, of the last day of the draft. Of cutting through her hair without hesitation, carrying her off to safety, away from the cultist and the explosions and the only power she thought she'd ever had.
He'd never apologize for making that decision. Why should he expect anything different from someone else?]
[action]
Saving someone's life?
That's right. He did save Asch's life... But at what cost? Asch having to kill his own mother, even though it was just a fake world? Having to shatter that perfect peace that he achieved?
But still. Asch isn't bringing up the fact that Luke took away his happiness again, something that Luke thought of himself all the time. Or that it was his fault in the first place. In his own strange way, he's... thanking him?]
I...
[He ducks his head, his attention on the pendant wrapped up in his nightshirt, though he hastily wipes his cheek against his shoulder after realizing he let himself cry, if only a little.]
I am pretty stupid, huh? I just... [I just wish it wasn't me who had to do it. I wish there was another way. I wish I could've been the one do it, and yet I know I couldn't have.] That world of yours was... [It was the one thing I took away from you in the past and took away from you again.]
Why did it have to pick out something like that? [If it were someone like Van, it might've been easier. But their mother...]
[action]
...I didn't come here to talk about that. It was a lie, a fabrication to make it impossible to escape. We did, and it's over. That's all there is to it.
[It wasn't real, it wasn't his life. It wasn't his world - not anymore.
By destroying that world he didn't lose anything that he hadn't already lost years ago.]