TERRACE Draft - Remaining Days

[lucetimods]

Who: All Draftees
What: All hell breaks loose
When: From the 27th to the 1st.
Where: TERRACE!
Summary: Information post here
Rating: Varies on thread, please mark explicit material.

This post covers the second to sixth day! Be sure to check the info post on the timeline to know what's up. At 2AM on the 27th, the attack will break out while most people are sleeping. Be sure to use the above info post for any plotting needs you might have. Enjoy!

Some random NPC quotes about the island itself.

Be sure to tag this post appropriately: [canon] character name

Comments

[dissonates]

[A part of Asch just wants to collapse himself, to curl up in a corner and scream out his grief for a while. That part of him still remembers so much more clearly than before the child he used to be, just was, only moments before.

There's no time for grieving, though; the Shifter is still alive, staggering and disoriented from being "killed" within their own manifested dream. Anger flares in him - that it's her fault, that all of this is her doing, and she's the one who caused these horrible memories, as if he didn't have enough of those already - and he marches after her as she tries to flee. She doesn't get far, only a few stumbling steps and one more scream (one that haunts, one that hurts, because his mother had screamed like that before she died- not died not died she's alive it wasn't her) as his sword slashes across her back, tearing off both wings and killing her instantly. This time the body doesn't fade, but he has no reason to give it so much as a second glance. It's a stranger, an enemy. Someone that means nothing to him, nothing at all.

But when he tries to turn away he stumbles, his knees buckling, and he drops to the ground, hunched over and shaking, eyes wide, staring blindly at the stone beneath tightly-clenched hands.

Ten years old. He'd been ten years old and he'd murdered his own mother without a second thought, because someone with his face told him it had to be done. And it was true, all of it was true, and it hadn't been her at all. It was fine.

But.

What kind of monster does that?]

[fabrecation]

[Luke had been just about to leave when he heard another scream (the same as hers), and it makes his gaze shoot up to see what's happening. The Dream Shifter, the one who caused all this in the first place, had just fallen to the ground, and Asch -

Asch, too, is falling, but down to his knees instead of to his stomach. Honestly, it makes a knife of fear stab through Luke's back, the kind that always comes with watching someone close break apart and not knowing what to do for them. It makes Luke stay frozen in his spot for a moment, before his eyes catch movement. Another cultist who saw them and decided that they looked too broken to do anything about an attack.

But Luke feels a flash of anger - no, of fury. That this happened in the first place, that this person would dare try to attack them now. And so, with tears still escaping, Luke meets the soldier head on, and it only takes a few seconds to let out a cry of rage as he slices at his wings, killing the man instantly.

In that same instant, nausea creeps into his stomach. It's that same feeling that comes with killing another, and he can feel that same cold chill start at his fingertips and move to his hands. Yet the feeling doesn't stop - Luke actually has to lean against his sword and cover his mouth while he breathes raggedly, coughing and hunching his shoulders. He feels like he's going to be sick.

He manages not to, though it leaves him feeling weak and exhausted in every way when he recovers. And Asch - Asch is still there, on his knees and staring.

Whatever Luke may feel about himself... he can't leave Asch. Not like this.

He wants to just go to him and throw his arms around his shoulders and hold him until it's all over. But what kind of right does he had to that? Instead, he heads over to him, hesitant, scared, guilty. And when he reaches him, he stands unsure for another second longer before he falls to his knees as well, feeling his stomach lurch at the sudden movement, and slowly reaches up shaking hands. It doesn't make contact, only hovers uncertainly before Asch's shoulders.

Whatever Asch thinks of him... he's here, at least.]

[dissonates]

[Even lost in his thoughts as he is, Asch can feel Luke there, how close he is, the way he's almost touching, but not quite. He ducks his head lower, hand lifting to cover his face, and he half-jerks away from the hands even before they can touch him, his body trembling.]

Don't-

[His voice catches, and he curses inwardly, trying again.]

Don't touch me...

[He doesn't want to be held or consoled or comforted. He killed his mother. Their mother. Who wasn't. Dammit. And even more than that - which is horrifying in its own way, what he values right now - he doesn't want Luke to see his distress. That killing a fake would be enough to break him like this, enough to make him weep...

To cry over the body of an enemy is shameful, pathetic. He'd been raised to recognize this. He'd mocked Luke for it before. But his body just won't stop.

All he can do is hide it- his shame, his grief, his pain. It's all he's ever known to do.]

[fabrecation]

[The words cut into him, because while a part of him (the part that's grown with Asch these past few years, the part that's been buried but still calls out to him on occasion) knows, knows why Asch is saying that, the other believes that Asch is lashing out at him, because he's a replica, trash, dreck, the one who took everything away from him. He winces as a result, and his hands fall slightly, hovering as if unsure whether to move forward or pull back.

With Asch in the state he's in now, Luke wants to defy all that and press Asch's face to his shoulder, look away so that he can weep if he needs to. But...

Luke bites his lip, and he curls his fingers as he slowly pulls his hands back until they rest lightly against his lap. He looks away, too, physically turns his head away to look at their battlefield instead. That hidden part of him knows that Asch never, ever wants to be seen like this, least of all by Luke. So, he doesn't look.]

... Then I won't.

[dissonates]

[Asch makes a faint, muffled sound at that - to acknowledge it, to express gratitude, to show anger that Luke's still even here - but it's too muffled, too incoherent for it to be understood. He doesn't look up or respond in any other way, and he doesn't move again. He's perfectly content to ignore Luke entirely- even if he does permit his presence for the moment.

It doesn't last very long, either. They're still on an active battlefield, and he won't allow himself to be trapped like that again. Within a few tense minutes he pushes himself to his feet, retrieving his sword, flicking off the blood and feathers, and sheathing it. With his hand down it reveals that his eyes look strained, but his cheeks are dry. He glances briefly at Luke, as if daring him to say something about it, then merely brushes past him and starts back towards the base. He doesn't want to talk about it, he doesn't want to acknowledge it, and he does not want to hug it out.]

[fabrecation]

[Luke looks up at Asch when he stands, and thus he catches that glance. He meets it and doesn't waver, and he doesn't say a word, either. How could he? He looks like a complete wreck compared to Asch.

Then Asch is moving past him, and Luke simply stares at the spot where his original was for a moment. Just a moment, though, because they are on an active battlefield.

So Luke wipes at his cheeks, takes in a breath that sounds far too much like a hiccup instead, and goes in the opposite direction. Right now, he feels like they both need to be far away from each other.]