Earl Ciel Phantomhive (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cheats) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
haibanerenmei2016-01-05 09:12 pm
cheats) wrote in haibanerenmei2016-01-05 09:12 pm
Entry tags:
oo1 - intro
one — waking up
[ The cocoon cracks open, and though the liquid that fills it spills out, the boy inside does his damndest not to go with the flow of it. Even though he had been the one to crack it open, his fingers dig deeply into the odd, soft texture of the cocoon around him to prevent going with the flow. He's not sure why, but he's afraid of falling out. Even though the liquid makes him want to cough and vomit it back up, he stubbornly holds on until it's drained enough that he breathes in his first breath of air, which is a gasping, rattling breath despite himself.two — wings (only one person, please)
If you were unlucky enough to be around for this, at least you get to see the stubborn occupant looking no better than a drowned rat even as he still clings to the broken sides of the cocoon. He's scrawny, but clearly fiery, since whoever is waiting outside is given a vicious, scathing glare, as if you're responsible. However, that glare might be odd considering what one of his eyes looks like. ]
Who the hell are you?
[ ...He's a cheerful boy, can't you tell? ]
[ He's not stupid. That's what he keeps thinking to himself as he lays with his stomach on the bed, burying that strange eye into the pillow. No one will say what's coming, but it's not hard to guess. He's seen people going to get bandages and a medical box, and he can feel a tightness by his shoulderblades. He's seen the wings on everyone else. It's not hard to make the connection.three — halo by beyonce
They have to come out somehow.
Part of him wishes that they would just come out already, since the tight feeling on his shoulders just makes him anxious. Get it over with, since it's better to be done with it. It's what he'll say, but at the same time, he's frightened. They have to come out somehow, so it will hurt, won't it? That thought makes his jaw tighten, and he grips his pillow more tightly.
Maybe you've been given the duty of looking after the new Haibane? Just don't tell the boy that it's your first time looking after one, since you might get an earful on that subject. ]
[ After his fever breaks, Corbin is at least ready to join everyone else, but... He doesn't like it. As he sits at breakfast, he feels peoples' stares on him as soon as he enters. Part of him knows that it's fair, but mostly, he bristles at the very thought. The stares, even if they're just surprised and polite, aren't welcome. After all, the eye, he thought he could hide as soon as he could manage to find an eyepatch, but hiding the wings isn't so easy. After all, instead of the light, charcoal grey that the Haibane's wings are supposed to be, his are black.four — get a job hippie
He doesn't want to think about what that means. He even tries to tell himself that he doesn't care as he takes a seat as far from everyone else as possible, but as he looks down at his place setting, he feels that something is off. For some reason, this sloppy presentation bothers him... He looks up to someone nearby, as if he's going to ask for something else quite sourly, but he ends up deciding against it.
But finally, he seems to get over his stubbornness enough to at least ask for something. Considering he was wanting to just sit here in silence the whole time, this is impressive. ]
You. [ yes, you ] Pass me a croissant.
[ He's in such a bad mood that he's not even polite with his request, but you have to wonder if a good mood would really improve his manners that much... ]
[ They said he had to get a job, so fine. Fine, he'll get a job, even though it's ridiculous that he should have to work, so far as he's concerned. He can still barely manage to move his wings like they're actually a part of his body, so he feels like he should get something of pass. To be fair, he might if not for his terrible personality. Corbin's temperament absolutely hasn't improved even after most of the pain from those wings bursting out of his back had subsided, so maybe someone had been hoping that getting a job would improve his mood. Who knows.i ; His first stop is the library, since really, it feels like the place he's most drawn to. Corbin takes his time looking at the old books, and it at least seems to better his mood to some extent, though not much. He seems to be looking for something, but if he sees another Haibane in the library, he'll actually start a conversation on his own that isn't quite so rude.
Are all the books here this old? You can barely read some of them.
ii ; But unfortunately, he's a bit too young to work in the library. It's where he would have preferred, since he felt a little more comfortable away from people, but even though he had tried to plead his case... No luck. At the very least, someone helpfully points him to the post office, since they inform him that they offer jobs that even a young Haibane can take. Though when they had said that, Corbin had been imagining something like sorting letters. Something away from people, most importantly.
And yet, when he leaves the post office, it's with a satchel in hand. If you've been here for a while, you're likely to recognize it as meaning that he'll be delivering your mail from now on, though... He doesn't seem happy about it. ]
Delivering mail? This is ridiculous! Surely there's something more dignified than this!
[ no, there is not... But at least you can overhear this small tantrum, so congratulations!? ]
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[They're reserved for the elderly in most cases, but he's sure Corbin would appreciate the extra help! Ie: a study in how punkassery is apparently innate, with or without memories.
His expression flattens at the question, though. Like this stranger, Lazare hadn't found any of the explanations satisfying at all. Vague answers and "maybe this is why"s just don't cut it with him, which is why he'd come to the library in the first place. His searching had been futile, of course, but at least it provided him with a nice job. Storyteller. Quaint.]
You won't be finding any of those, though.
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[ Corbin at least remembers how libraries work, so he hisses his exclamation lowly rather than actually yelling it, but his irritation is clear enough regardless. Both of these punks are extremely disagreeable, so this can only go well... Especially since as the other boy continues, Ciel isn't quite privy to the fact that Lazare's thoughts are more or less on the same thing. He's assuming that he's just continuing to be an ass, but he tries (and fails) to not let it show in his expression. ]
Then what sort of library is this even supposed to be? Is there anything worth reading at all?
[ He's really just being kind of biting more than wanting a real answer, but go ahead chimbles, tell him about shakespeare ]
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Double excellent, because now he has the perfect opportunity to talk about some of the nice books he's found here.]
Of course there is. Every library has at least one thing worth looking through. I'd certainly not be wasting my time with a place that couldn't manage such a small thing, regardless.
[...But apparently no helpful suggestions are on their way just yet??]
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[ Corbin grumbles disagreeably (though this is more or less his default state), but at least so long as Lazare isn't being actively rude and unhelpful, it's not as bad. Maybe. He at least seems to calm down to some extent once the topic actually turns to books. He crosses his arms and looks somewhat doubtful, but he nods. ]
Very well. Then what would you recommend?
[ There's definitely a dismissive doubt in his voice. Let's see what you can recommend, tiny rude child. ]
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Anyway, with Corbin actively asking for suggestions, Lazare certainly won't hesitate. In fact, it seems like this moron was waiting for the opportunity to show off... He nyooms right on over to the little trolley with books on it, picking up a leather-bound, thick volume from the lower shelf.]
This has my recommendation.
[He doesn't even give a synopsis... He just waits for Corbin to thumb through, clearly expectant.
That said, it's probably the kind of pretentious bullshit he might actually enjoy. Lots of weird metaphors, grotesque descriptors, and a general air of gloom that matches the faded binding perfectly.]
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...Just how old are you?
[ it's okay lazare you're in good grandpa company here (in spirit) ]
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AND THE QUESTION IS A STEP BACK. Rude. So rude!! His expression shifts from one of expecting curiosity to one of irritation, though it's not entirely because Corbin is kinda-sorta insulting him. Rather, it's the answer he'll have to give.]
That's something I don't recall.
[Which sure is weird since it seems most others remember their ages, but. Well. Memory loss seems to affect everyone to varying degrees here, at least.]
wow what grumpy matching icons
...You don't recall.
[ There's doubt in his voice, though he's not quite explicitly calling Lazare a liar. ]
Why? I remember how old I am.
perfect for these shits honestly
I've no clue. Why do we forget anything? An age is easier to forget than a name, I'd think.
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...I suppose. But it's still important. I haven't heard of anyone else forgetting something like that.
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Surely there's at least one other person somewhere in this city who's forgotten. [He can't be the only one...] At any rate, I don't suppose it matters much in a place like this, anyway.
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[ Is what he says, but his expression still looks more than a little doubtful of that. Nothing about this situation sits well with Corbin, even a few days later, but he has to deal with it. He doesn't exactly like that either. He sighs, but then actually makes a half-hearted effort to be friendly, since at least this kid (?) is better than Rian. ]
What is your name, then?
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But he can't fault anyone for being wary or doubtful, honestly. He's in the same boat and he's been suspicious of pretty much everything from the moment he woke up until now, even though he's been adapting better than he initially thought.]
...Lazare. [It's still strange, introducing himself by a name that he can't remember having had before, but it'll have to do for now.] And yours?
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...Though he realizes that perhaps his is no better, really. So he offers neutrally, ]
Corbin. [ no "nice to meet you," since they're both rude punks ]
How did you manage to get a job here anyways?
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That said, aside from a nod of acknowledgment, he sets the topic aside and readily moves on:]
I asked the woman at the front desk if they had any positions available. [GOD, CORBIN. ...Though after a second, he'll also add:] I was told most of them weren't suitable for me- [Because let's be honest he's probably too short to reach the top shelf even while standing on a ladder.] -but fortunately, they had a position open that fit my skillset just fine.