fabrecation: (Awwwwkward)
Fonic Link mumbo jumbo )



[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))
fabrecation: (HUUUURGH)
[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 [livejournal.com profile] 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.]]
fabrecation: (I swear I can be manly sometimes)
[Ever since Bil/Catherine/whatever told him that the sword Guy lost would probably be returned, Luke checked the weapon shop every day in the hopes of finding it. The days he didn't find it were met with a disheartened sigh, half-hearted lingering to check out the rest of the weapons, then wandering back home. He remained hopeful, though, always diligently checking to see if it was there.

Today, however, Luke's efforts paid off. There, glittering on one of the displays, is the weapon he'd been looking for. He nearly sags with relief, and he grabs the sword before anyone can even think of taking it for themselves. He stays a little longer to see if everyone's doing okay with Sokka still at the draft, and then he heads home, sword in hand.

After all of that, Luke heads to his room and flops down on his bed, a little worn out from the day's events. He opens his journal, hoping to get to talk to at least one or two of the draftees whenever the Malnosso decide to return them to the hotel rooms.]


How's everyone doing out there?
fabrecation: (Worst bedtime story ever)
[There's some irritated grumbling going on. Shuffle. Grumble. Shifting through leaves. Grumble. KICKING A TREE-]

Ow!

[... Grumble.

And now HI LUCETI, YOU'RE NOW SEEING THE BOTTOM OF SOMEONE'S FOOT. But it lifts up quickly, and in its place is a teenaged boy with short, scraggly red hair and green eyes staring curiously down at the journal. Aaand then it morphs an annoyed face.]


Man, this isn't even my journal... And where the hell did my shirt go?

[The person disappears and gives yet another grumble as he searches through some leaves... Then seems to resolve to find his way to the village, as his footsteps start to grow fainter and fainter. He may not know it, but he's going in the completely wrong direction of where he's supposed to go.]

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[replica model] • LUKE FON FABRE

November 2020

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