dissonates | [Action]

[Action, backdated to October 6th, locked to Luke + housemates if they want!]

[There is a vast difference between seeing nothing and being unable to see at all. It's the first thing that Asch realizes when he opens his eyes, waking up in the cold of the underground tunnel, slumped against the invisible barrier outside of John's domain, and seeing, for the first time in months, some kind of... light. It's blurry, more like a shadow within a shadow, and as he squints at it, it occurs to him that it's entirely possible that his eyes hadn't been fixed correctly at all. People are occasionally stuck with side effects anyway, though, after their penalties have been removed, so he pushes those concerns aside and reaches out with his mind towards his replica.

....

Nothing. Not even a flicker. And there's a moment of panic - that something happened while he was gone, that he's dead again - but memory catches up with him. He's in the tunnels. Luke can't hear him down here. And even though he feels weak, bone-weary, and a little dizzy from his clumsy vision, he pushes off the wall and forces himself upright, edging his way towards the near-light of what he's certain must be the tunnel entrance. There's a ladder, a way up, and as he climbs, he keeps trying to contact Luke, hoping his replica is available to get him home. Just one last time, one more guiding hand. That's all he needs.

Thankfully Luke is available, and he will get Asch home, so he'll be back on the evening of the 6th, sticking close to the house for the most part and waiting for his vision to come back bit by bit.]

---

[Action, October 10th, open to anyone]

[Finally, finally, Asch wakes to find that hey, surprise! His eyes are as clear as the day they'd been before he died. He spends a long time staring at everything in his room, taking in the details, the changes that he'd missed or accidentally caused over the course of the last four months. There's dust in places difficult to clean, his closet is a disorganized mess, and the books on his shelf are out of order. Some of the houseplants aren't doing so well. Star's getting fat. The white in Tsuae's fur is discoloured from treks in the yard- chasing Ginji's birds, probably. He'll need to do a full sweep of the house and nitpick at it.

Tomorrow, though. Today he gets dressed, gets himself a meal and tea without dropping anything, burning his fingers, or bumping into the table. He leaves the house and he goes for a walk. Nothing special- a long, slow, utterly aimless wander through the village from late morning until after dinner, drinking in the sights and watching the people who pass him by, as if seeing it all for the first time. He swings by the shops, the restaurant, maybe even Good Spirits for a bit, a place he hadn't been since before Guy went home the first time. He might even talk to people. He seems curious and calm for once, almost smiling.

It's a nice day. He can see again. What's there to bitch about?

Evening will find him on Amaterasu's hill, leaning against one of the cherry trees, content to sit and watch the sunset. Only after it's finished does he return home at last.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[F is for friends who do stuff together...]

I'm serious! We could have a really great time. I promise you'd enjoy it.

I suppose I should ask you to prove it to me.

[Is that a good enough invitation, Rapunzel? It's almost like he's saying yes.]

[Challenge accepted.]

You should. And I will! When are you free?

...I seriously doubt my schedule would by the problem, considering how active you are. [Yeah, he's seen you around, you little social butterfly.] Pick a date, and we'll see.

[Well, that's fair.]

Well? How about...this Sunday?

[.....Oh. She really is serious.

Though, okay, he should have expected that. Uh.

....

Uh.]

So soon?

[Yes. Take everything at face-value with Rapunzel, Asch.]

Well, sure! Why wait?

Be... cause... [Because he was hoping a delay would make you forget or something 8|] Don't these things require time to plan?

[She will never, ever forget. She's like the Terminator.]

Four days is plenty of time to plan! [For her, anyway.]

[Okay, yeah, even he can't come up with a good rebuttal for that.]

...Fine... fine. Sunday it is.

[And she can't resist clapping her hands together at his acceptance.]

Oh, wonderful! I'll make sure to plan something SO very fun for you, Asch!

[Oh geez. Oh geez.]

You'd better not make me regret it.

[SHE WILL MAKE SURE OF THAT.]

Don't you worry about a thing! Leave all to me, and I PROMISE you'll have a good time.

[Oh geez, promises. And he's so good at those, too. But she's the one promising, not him- he can probably indulge her for a little while.]

Alright. As long as we don't have to pinkie-swear.

...What's a pinkie swear? I want one!

You don't know?

[He blinks, baffled by the idea of a world that doesn't have pinkie-swearing; he thought that annoying promise-keeping gesture was universal. Reaching out, he takes her hand and gently hooks his pinkie finger around hers, giving their joined hands a light shake.]

It's... when you make a promise, you do this. It doesn't really mean anything, and it's so childish, and- it's just something that people do sometimes.

[And it's embarrassing, and why did he even bring it up again?

Damnable blonde princesses.]

[Oh. Ohhhhh. Well, that's a fun thing to do! She gives his pinkie a slight tug.]

So it's like you're making your promise something more than just words! I think it's nice. Thank you for teaching me.

[Asch you precious thing. Rapunzel smiles warmly. She will now employ pinkie-swears to her advantage.]

[And that's kind of what he's afraid of. He feels a wave of unease and embarrassment, loosening his grip to free his hand.]

Just don't expect me to do it again.

[She makes it a personal goal to someday coax Asch into a pinkie swear again.]

Don't worry. I pinkie-swear you will have fun on our night of celebration.

I just told you--! ....Tch, whatever.

[He really is going to regret this, isn't he.]

[It's entirely possible.]

Great. I'm really looking forward to it.

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