dissonates | [Written...? / Action, May 20th and beyond]

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[Written...? / Action, May 20th and beyond]

[It starts with a hum.

It's quiet, barely perceptible, like a fruit fry buzzing away in someone's ear. Across the village, it starts flickering to life in the mind of one Luke fon Fabre, miles away, awake and unaware and waiting for it.

The hum becomes a whisper. Wordless noise. An echo of something that used to be alive and loud and binding. Intrusive, almost, and yet not- because something missed, needed, eagerly and anxiously awaited is rarely unwanted.

The whisper becomes words, messy and jumbled and confused, a thought process born of desperation, fear, pain, loneliness. The words of the dead, or the dying, or the living. Of all three at once.

I'm here.

imhereimhereimherereplicaimherewhereareyou

help me

Alive. Alive.

And calling for him.]

[It's much later - after he's found, after he's awake and aware of his new situation - that Asch finally touches the journal. He toys with the controls, flips through the pages quietly, listening to everything that's open to hear. It feels... startlingly normal. Just your average day in Luceti. Life does go on without you- but then, he knew that long ago. This is nothing new.

...Well, almost nothing. It's hard to do much of anything when you can't see the world you're used to seeing around you. Not for the first little while, anyway. By touch and trial-and-error he finds the camera eventually, and he scribbles out a bit of nonsense in what he thinks is the entry area that almost looks like words, he sends out a few misfired comments to complete strangers, and in the end he thinks the entire journal system isn't nearly user-friendly enough. Eventually he gives up and sets it aside, leaving it open. Just. Listens.

It's not much. But for the moment, it'll do.]

((ooc: okay so here's the deal- Asch is back from the dead and blind. He'll be in the clinic for a while while he gets used to it, so feel free to use this post as a catch-all in case people want to visit/stumble upon him for the entire week. His scribble entry is also sort-of posted with a slightly-obscured picture, so if you'd rather use the voice function to bug him, feel free |D Word will probably get around that he's back one way or another.

Luke may or may not be with him depending on the time of visit; more often than not, he will be ~~attached at the hip~~ keeping an eye on Asch and helping him to see. He might also be asleep or taking a break. Feel free to specify; if he is there, he probably won't speak much (to save Kukki's inbox and to simplify things), so it's just a matter of whether or not your character will be seen.))

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[All day today, Luke had been waiting for the link to come to life. He might have been a little desperate, finally on his back to make looking at the clock easier. He's not sure exactly what time all of that... happened, but he's sure it wasn't too late in the day. He'd barely gotten any sleep that night, and now he just glances at the clock every two minutes and wonders why clocks are so stupid.

Then there's the hum. For a moment, Luke isn't sure what it is. He squints and raises his good arm to wave a hand near his ear, only to realize that it isn't going away.

It's after that moment that he starts to recognize it. He sits up in bed, and Xion is beside him and he's making vague and hurried comments about Asch before he tries to move himself. And to his surprise, she's actually helping him get up and find strength in his legs again.

The hum becomes a whisper.

Luke leaves the clinic by himself, needing to do this by himself. He has to stop every now and then to lean against the tree, to catch his breath, to rest his aching legs, to smile and run his hand through his hair. He - He can feel it, he can feel it, it's Asch -

The whisper becomes words.

He travels faster, the words aching but there, and he stops at a tree again to breathe raggedly and let his own words bleed through the newly formed link.

imcomingimcomingimcomingimcomingholdonaschimalmosttheredontworry

It doesn't take too much longer. Luke knows exactly where he is, even with how huge and dense the forest is.

He's almost there.

He sees him.

He stumbles to a halt and falls to his knees at his side.

He lifts his one good hand to trail his fingers across his original's warm, warm forehead and pass through his hair.

I'm here. Wake up.]

[At first, he doesn't stir... not physically, at least. The fonic link only grows stronger as Luke gets closer to him, pulsing with energy, with life as Asch's body grows more and more aware of it, even while still unconscious. He can feel it there, feel Luke, and his mind responds to it, growing more clear, more calm, more coherent. He's coming. He's coming. He's coming, he's coming, he's-

here.

Luke touches him, brushes a hand through his hair. He doesn't move, but he's breathing. It's hot today; Asch's skin is damp with sweat, even if he'd been brought back shirtless, in the usual New Feather pants. Not like his clothes had been salvageable anyway, since Guy's strike had nearly cleaved him in two. There's a thick white line of a scar visible down his back, trailing under the left wing and halting at the middle of his back- on the other side as well, though hidden for the moment beyond the curve between his neck and shoulder.

You came.

You're here.

I knew you'd-

And then he stirs, his body finally catching up with his mind. His eyes clench, willing themselves to open. He looks up-

...to see...

...nothing.

His eyes are empty, the colour faded and dull, darting left and right as he tries to see something, anything. Maybe- maybe it's dark, maybe it's nighttime, a really warm night, even though he can hear the birds chirping in the trees and feel the hot sun burning his bare skin and he can smell the warm grass beneath him and oh god.]

...Luke?

[It's shaky, tremulous, and he swallows hard, shame flickering to life in his expression. He shouldn't- he shouldn't sound like that. He shouldn't let himself feel discomfort, or worry, or... or fear. He's not afraid. He can't be afraid.

But... but he can't.. he can't...]

[I told you

I'd always come for you.

I'm here.

It's soon after that that Asch opens his eyes, and Luke holds his breath at first, a pathetic pain in his chest that he knows will just spread to his throat and eyes if he doesn't try his best to hold it back.

But he doesn't let the breath out, not when he sees that the light in Asch's eyes isn't the same.

They're dull, faded, empty. And Asch's eyes dart left and right, and Luke can immediately tell what's wrong.

He can't see. He's blind.

Luke clenches his jaw as that pain spreads to his throat and creates an uncomfortable lump. He still can't help thinking that this was his fault, that - that if he hadn't called Asch, he'd be the one laying there and darting his eyes to try to see something, not Asch. And it'd be preferable that way. Asch should never have to go through this, not for him. He's just... just a...

He shuts his eyes and swallows thickly, trying to get the pain past his throat. He shouldn't cry. He shouldn't feel sorry for himself or for Asch. His original needs his help right now, and wallowing in regret isn't the way to go about doing that.

So he pushes it aside for right now, and he doesn't even feel a sense of surprise or honor or more happiness than he already feels when Asch says his name. The way he says it makes Luke's hand move from Asch's hair to his cheek, trying to will away the shame and every feeling that brushes against the link, so sensitive and so new now that it's flared to life after being dormant for a week.]

Asch... I'm right here.

[Right here. Asch knew it before Luke even spoke the words aloud, and between that and the light touch of skin on his cheek - contact, feeling, something he couldn't experience last week, he'd died again - it's enough to shake him out of his temporary shock. Okay, so... he's blind. Blind. So what? It's not permanent. It's... the penalty.

He can deal with this. Somehow, he'll...

Cursing under his breath, Asch's fists curl in the dirt, and he starts to push himself upright, moving to his knees. He feels unstable, shaken, and his arms are trembling from more than just a simple, physical weakness. He won't admit it, but he can't stop himself from feeling a level of helplessness that he's never experienced before. The world around him is dark, a void of sound and touch and smell and nothing, all at once. With just one exception- Luke's presence, a beacon in the dark that he can feel with more than just his hand. His mind reaches out to brush against Luke's again, seeking that familiarity, some form of quiet reassurance. Unconsciously, his hand reaches out as well. He needs- he needs something. An anchor.]

What- [His voice falters again, and he inhales sharply, hissing between his teeth, steeling himself. Not weak. Not weak. Don't be so pathetic, Asch.] ...What time is it?

[Maybe it's night. Maybe it's dark. Maybe there's no moon. Maybe- maybe- maybe he's-

-pathetic...]

[action]

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[written; filtered?]

[voice; filtered]

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[Voice] Will fix if I need to fix.

[Voice] nope you're fine!

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action;

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