lucetilogs | FOR YOUR CONVENIENCE, MY FELLOW LUCETIANS

FOR YOUR CONVENIENCE, MY FELLOW LUCETIANS

Who: EVERYONE
What: TRAUMA!
When: ALL THE TIME
Where: ANYWHERE
Summary: HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE TRAUMA. FREE FOR ALL IN THE SCARRING EXPERIENCES DEPARTMENT.
Rating: Gosh. I'm not sure. However, I suggest you hide your little'uns.

Basically, the purpose of this log is TRAUMA SPAM. If you didn't want to spam your flist with extra posts, or you wanted to post with more than one character -- or more than one character more than once! -- here is your place to be.

This will be a commentspam style log where you can thread start with your character hallucinating things. Whatever you wish it to be! It can even just be a more general thread start where they're not hallucinating anything -- yet. And each thread can get treated like a post, where that character's CR can react to the trauma going down!

If you still wish to actually post in your character's journal, you're of course totally allowed to do so. This is just here for funtiems and convenience for everyone who wanted a greater chance to post during this event! Feel free to use it anytime over the next few days, through Halloween, to do "posts" and threads with your characters.

Have at, guys!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[he rubs the back of his neck with his right hand]

Yeah. [glances over] Thanks.

[Sanji makes a sound in the back of his throat and abruptly turns away so he doesn't have to look, shoulders locked tight.

Watching himself kill someone wasn't funny the first time. It's even less funny now, no matter that he knows it's just a shitty hallucination designed to get under his skin]

.......

Oh.

[he stifles the odd impulse to apologize-- and the stronger impulse to ask what he's seeing.]

["Oh" about covers it.

Ten seconds pass before he looks over again. Whatever he sees sets his frame at ease, if not his expression]

[he shifts] You alright?

Yeah. [If that isn't the automatic response for half of Luceti this week.] It wasn't important.

[Now, back to that food. The crew'll be up soon; he can't waste anymore time being distracted]

[a sigh. And a look that's even more inscrutable than it usually is.] If you say so.

[He's half-tempted to snidely reply to that... but no. Just concentrate on the food.

It's a new recipe straight out of the cookbook. For once, he needs to be attentive, but a question slips out anyway while he bustles around near the stove]

Not slipping back into the past anymore, are you?

Well-- not in the same way that I was.

[Just fantastic flights of fancy, now. But it seems he's in good company.]

If I didn't know any better, I'd say you gave us your little problem. [Or the Malnosso decided to share the fun]

Maybe they just needed to practice. [dryly] But this seems a little less grounded in reality.

... Yeah. Not even real. [It's not real. He knows it's not real. So why let it affect him at all?

He sets his knife aside before he bruises his hand, gripping it to the point of pain.]

It'll probably last until Halloween.

[watching your hands, you know.]

... hm. Wouldn't be surprised if it got worse.

Don't try to be too optimistic. [Voice weathered by weariness, he's making a point not to look behind him.

Because there's a shadow looming at the edges of his peripheral vision. And it makes Sanji's hands tighten into balls]

Heh. You've got a ...point. [pause, watching very closely. Ginko shifts-- irritable at whatever unseen thing is drawing the tension tight in those fingers.]

[He barely hears Ginko. His senses are concentrated on that shadow that flickers between realness and imagination, until he's gritting his teeth as hard as he's clenching his fists and--

Damn it. There's only so much he can take; Sanji's had enough of this shit.

He jerks his head to the side, eye defiantly ready to stare down what he knows is lurking next to him, and give it a healthy "Fuck you". It's not real. He doesn't need to treat it as such.]

[And instead, he's left staring at air. Empty air.

.... Tch.]

Well, anyway. [He makes a point of looking put-out to combat the roll of relief nearly making him dizzy.

That's right, shithead. Stay the fuck out of his line of vision.]

It can't end too soon, I know that much. [He turns - at last - to shoot Ginko a small grin]

[The smile freezes on his face when it's not Ginko he finds.

The man's still sitting at the chair, of course, but he might as well have disappeared for all Sanji's paying attention. Something sharp and heavy explodes sensation near the chef's abdomen, pulling his startled gaze downward. He watches red seep out and down, staining his shoes and the floor, his pants (they were his favorite, too) as well as the knife that's reflecting his surprised expression.

He's too surprised to be in pain. He can't even think to jerk back when he lifts his stare up again and looks himself in the face.

This isn't real. This isn't.

But he drops down on one knee anyway.]

Yeah. [his body relaxes when whatever Sanji was watching seems to have vanished.]

[And then this-- shadow standing between them, that is different in form to Ginko than it is to the chef, whose face he can see through the outline of a man.

But he sees the same knife, and the same motion-- and stands up so abruptly that the chair clatters over.

.... and there's nothing there. He shuts his eye, and opens it to nothing still.]

[Ginko's reaction is nearly as startling as being stabbed - I was stabbed, huh? That was weird - causing Sanji to look at him in waning bemusement, now that the shock has finally receded with the hallucination.]

... You alright? [He's certainly okay. His hand is clutched near his stomach still, and it takes him precious seconds to get back to his feet but... he's okay.

He figures, in dark amusement, better him than someone else]

[Ginko leans down to right the chair, in silence. Then he sits down again and pulls out a cigarette, with a long, hissing exhale.]

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I lied, I need 4 for this

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