DRAFT LOG #2: The Battle Game!

[lucetimods]

Who: Everyone on the draft
What: Fighting bad guys!
When: Today (after 12PM) to the 19th, in the evening
Where: The Mining Facility
Summary: It's an underground mine! And the Malnosso want you to kill and capture all the bad guys! Oh, but don't let the rocks fall on you. That could hurt.
Rating: B for BLOOD. Seriously. People are going to die. People have already died. We're not going to make it out of here. We're all screwed, it's Game Over, man!

Everything you need to know is listed here and also this way. If you haven't signed up yet and want to be on this draft, then go do it and stop being lazy!

Comments

[memoryboxes]

[Her eyes widen, and she looks down, definitely embarrassed now. But she quickly regains herself and ushers him to rest and sit, where she can reach that wound and sew it up.]

I—I'm sorry, for that. I tend to forget people all the time... I'm really sorry.

[It's so very frustrating, meeting new faces that aren't new at all.]

My condition's been worse, without Luceti's barrier, I think... The last draft I was on was the same; I may not remember this tomorrow, I'm afraid.

[samurinjathief.livejournal.com]

[A condition...

Goemon remembered believing that some inexplicable something was amiss from her aura when they had first met - and now as he sat there and sharpened his focus as best he could in his weariness, he could not shake off the faint but nagging sense that... she was drained in some way, for lack of a better word. Almost... cursed.

He could not help but feel a sharp pang of sympathy. Memories served an all too important purpose when it came to placing trust in the right people, avoiding committing the same mistakes, and forging strong relationships, among many things. It was difficult to imagine how terrible it would be not only to suffer from such memory loss, but to be keenly aware of it, aware that all was not as it should be.]

You have nothing for which to apologize; it cannot be helped.
[Then, after a thoughtful silence:] Forgive my boldness, Sayo-san - but if you do not do so already, perhaps you would find it useful to write notes to yourself.

[memoryboxes]

[She laughs softly, sitting him down so she can start cleaning his wound free of blood.] Don't worry. My apartment is covered in little notes, in case I forget. As long as I think often of them, my close friends will stay in my memory, too.

[dab, dab]

I don't sleep. Soo... I suppose I have plenty of time to think.

[samurinjathief.livejournal.com]

[He blinked, astounded and uncomprehending. How could the human body function when suffering such sleep deprivation...?]

Is this how it has been for as long as you remember? [Mentally preoccupied, he barely felt the twinges of pain as she gingerly wiped awa blood.]

[memoryboxes]

That's right. [She nods, focused on his wound.] I'm going to stitch you up now, so you might feel a little twinge.

[She reaches down and retrieves the equipment for it, and soon she's suturing.]

I sit up most of the night weaving, thinking of a lot of things... Someone once told me that if I keep important things in my mind, then the mushi in my head will save those memories for last to eat, because they're important to me.

[samurinjathief.livejournal.com]

[Despite the pain of the needle piercing in and out his skin and the the thread being pulled snuggly taut every so often, his attention was locked on her.]

...Mushi? [Goemon repeated, stiffening, his voice tight with strain. So, his instincts had proven correct... Knitting his brow, his gaze turned inwards.] Parasites that devour human memory...?

[memoryboxes]

That's right. I'm not sure when I caught it, but it's been with me for a while now. Eating memories is how it stays alive.

[samurinjathief.livejournal.com]

I have never heard of such a thing... until now. [He mused in a soft, grave tone, shutting his eyes briefly.]

When we first met - and now, sitting before you - I sensed that something was not right. [After a moment, he lowered his head slightly, supposing he might have been too bold in his admission.] ...I'm sorry.