Sunday 1: Introspectre
Jan. 18th, 2007 09:46 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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theblackcrossFIRST POST! Roleplay is now open.
Please hide long entries behind lj cuts. Thank you!
Modified posting rules (titles):
Day, number, title.
So:
Monday 1: A bright morning
the next post on the same day would be
Monday 1.2: Out and about
Following post:
Monday 1.3: An encounter!
(you can go on indefinitely...Monday 1.235 is an option...)
Next:
Tuesday 1: On the street
In the event of a mission, add Mission # to the title. So - Monday 1: Mission 1: The ant farm (location of mission)
The next week would be:
Monday 2: The day after
Monday 2.2: Cold cereal and cigarettes
Etc.
Thanks be to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pichi for revisions on this.
Aya was doing something that he rarely did, although no one was around at the moment to see it.
The smile felt awkward on his face, the corners of his lips pulling at the dried clay of his cheeks and chin.
He fingered his naked ear and looked to the table beside his bed. A single gold shaft lay in its center, under the canopy of the lamp and beside his alarm.
His sister was awake. She was home.
He was no longer Aya.
He was Ran. Again.
Or maybe he had always been Ran.
His face settled back into its familiar mold, smile fading to neutrality.
He hadn't thought he would be like Omi, where the name Takatori held such meaning. He hadn't thought that it would matter, aside from the constant reminder of a past that was so starkly different from his present. No matter what he or his teammates chose to call him, he was the same person.
Wasn't he?
But Aya's eyes, his sister's, told him otherwise when they looked so earnestly at him. She remembered someone else, someone her brother could barely remember being.
He didn't care, but for a brief moment he wondered if his teammates could remember to call him Ran. He had told his sister that he had taken her name for a time, to keep her present and with him, but the Aya they knew and the Ran she expected him to be - well, he was afraid that she would be able to see the truth of himself as Aya stripped open in their eyes.
Perhaps, he reflected, it would be better if she knew.
The thought made him grip the fabric on his bed.
He wished he could see her now. She was here, she was living, he could make her laugh if he opened his door to find her. But he had told himself he would let her live, and grow, in a space not smothered by his presence.
At least, as much as he was able.
His eyes flicked to the sword on his dresser.
How long, he wondered, could he keep her sheltered?
Kritiker had changed leadership. There was a new contact, and a new leader. How well could this new entity protect them?
Manx had promised that his sister would be under Kritiker's care, at least as much as was safe for the organization's interests. But Manx was gone.
It didn't matter. She had spoken for their employers, and as far as Aya was concerned, he would hold them to that.
Slowly, he released the sheets and picked up the book he had been reading a few moments before.
"In order to grow, flowers must be planted in fertile earth. The earth is like your past. It's made of the same material as the new life it will give birth to, but it cannot be resurrected. Till your memories like the earth, but let them rest..."
Please hide long entries behind lj cuts. Thank you!
Modified posting rules (titles):
Day, number, title.
So:
Monday 1: A bright morning
the next post on the same day would be
Monday 1.2: Out and about
Following post:
Monday 1.3: An encounter!
(you can go on indefinitely...Monday 1.235 is an option...)
Next:
Tuesday 1: On the street
In the event of a mission, add Mission # to the title. So - Monday 1: Mission 1: The ant farm (location of mission)
The next week would be:
Monday 2: The day after
Monday 2.2: Cold cereal and cigarettes
Etc.
Thanks be to
pichi for revisions on this.Aya was doing something that he rarely did, although no one was around at the moment to see it.
The smile felt awkward on his face, the corners of his lips pulling at the dried clay of his cheeks and chin.
He fingered his naked ear and looked to the table beside his bed. A single gold shaft lay in its center, under the canopy of the lamp and beside his alarm.
His sister was awake. She was home.
He was no longer Aya.
He was Ran. Again.
Or maybe he had always been Ran.
His face settled back into its familiar mold, smile fading to neutrality.
He hadn't thought he would be like Omi, where the name Takatori held such meaning. He hadn't thought that it would matter, aside from the constant reminder of a past that was so starkly different from his present. No matter what he or his teammates chose to call him, he was the same person.
Wasn't he?
But Aya's eyes, his sister's, told him otherwise when they looked so earnestly at him. She remembered someone else, someone her brother could barely remember being.
He didn't care, but for a brief moment he wondered if his teammates could remember to call him Ran. He had told his sister that he had taken her name for a time, to keep her present and with him, but the Aya they knew and the Ran she expected him to be - well, he was afraid that she would be able to see the truth of himself as Aya stripped open in their eyes.
Perhaps, he reflected, it would be better if she knew.
The thought made him grip the fabric on his bed.
He wished he could see her now. She was here, she was living, he could make her laugh if he opened his door to find her. But he had told himself he would let her live, and grow, in a space not smothered by his presence.
At least, as much as he was able.
His eyes flicked to the sword on his dresser.
How long, he wondered, could he keep her sheltered?
Kritiker had changed leadership. There was a new contact, and a new leader. How well could this new entity protect them?
Manx had promised that his sister would be under Kritiker's care, at least as much as was safe for the organization's interests. But Manx was gone.
It didn't matter. She had spoken for their employers, and as far as Aya was concerned, he would hold them to that.
Slowly, he released the sheets and picked up the book he had been reading a few moments before.
"In order to grow, flowers must be planted in fertile earth. The earth is like your past. It's made of the same material as the new life it will give birth to, but it cannot be resurrected. Till your memories like the earth, but let them rest..."
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no subject
Date: 2007-01-26 07:40 pm (UTC)He'd see about that.
Letting the dishes clink loudly into the sink, Yohji stormed over and leaned into a distance he was quite certain violated Ran's personal space. "Listen asshole," he fumed, "right now I'm trying to be nice. But I've obviously done something to piss you off yet again. So why don't you maybe just stop being an arrogant bastard for five seconds and tell me what the fuck I've done wrong, so MAYBE I can just possibly try to avoid doing it again, and you won't have to be so goddamned mad at me all the time!"
He stormed back to the sink and started scrubbing the skillet with about ten times the force necessary.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-26 11:49 pm (UTC)Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his sister. Aya...
Jaw clenched and muscles near spasming, he instead ground out as evenly as he could to Omi, "Call if there's problems." Nevermind it was a trip to the grocery store. "I'll see you soon," he added, more gently, to Aya-chan.
With one last look at Yohji's lucky ass he turned on his heel and went upstairs.
He would practice kata.
And not grab his katana and go straight back downstairs after the other three left.
[Ran leaves.]
no subject
Date: 2007-01-27 12:36 am (UTC)Asshole.
Goddamn motherfucking basterdized *asshole*.
Yohji decided that Ran simply wanted to be mad at him, and there was really no point in trying to avoid it. He was certainly used to being the target of Ran's anger. He hadn't thought much of it until his stupid sister woke up. Then all of the sudden Ran started being *nice* to people. "People" including just about everyone except Yohji. Goddamn, it really pissed him off.
When the dishes reached a point of cleanliness that Yohji found satisfactory (he certainly wasn't going to let the other's standards worry him at this point,) he all but tossed them in the cabinet and stomped up to his room.
He needed some sleep. And his special cd. The really twangy one that he only played when he was sulking and/or trying to annoy a certain someone in another room.
[Yohji Leaves}