alois "peach bellini" trancy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
loosetongue) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
haibanerenmei2016-01-05 11:02 pm
loosetongue) wrote in haibanerenmei2016-01-05 11:02 pm
Entry tags:
1st: mega sin
wake greg up (wake greg up inside)
[This cocoon seems totally disinterested in keeping its little hatchling, as Rian wakes up deposited backwards on the floor. His legs are still half in the cocoon, so it's an awkward few seconds where he tries to roll over and keep coughing out liquid without it drowning him again, but he manages... don't look at him during this trying time...
After he frees himself properly and kicks the outside of the split cocoon for good measure, he just--sits there, on the floor, looking down at himself. He sticks out his tongue, miming a gag.]
Ew. [And then, looking up,] Fetch me a towel, would you? Or maybe a whole bath.
[The littlest prince, sitting in a puddle of weird cocoon goo.]
TAKE.....these broken wings | just one pls
[The Haibane who tells him in gentle, simpering words that it's going to be difficult to get his wings, but he'll get through it! Everyone does! - well. They piss him off. He snaps enough times about being treated like a baby that he's left to mope feverishly on his bed - supervised, but not hovered over. It's still a bit much.
His wings take their sweet time, enough that the Haibane watching him has dozed off by the time he can tell that it's time. Damn them, what an idiot-- He hauls himself out of bed and roots through the medical kit in the dark, then stumbles his way into the hall. The loose robe is slipping and already dotted with blood in the back from what anyone can recognize as the movements of the wings trying to break through the skin, and if there's one thing he shouldn't be right now, it's upright. Upright and wandering, as he's going to go as far as he damn well can before the whole flesh-moving thing becomes too much.
Rules are for losers. In his hand is a pair of small scissors, the ones from the medical kit that are meant for nice things like cutting bandages, and not whatever this is. Which is, through labored breaths and a tiny bit of fevered delirium,]
I'm sick of this! I don't want these ugly things-- Why don't I just cut them out? Do you think I can reach?
[well. he's trying to reach. he's doing that now. he might also be weeping, lowkey.]
and a prompt with less suffering
[He'd have to be blind and deaf not to notice the reactions he gets from the other Haibane, already. It's obviously these stupid wings--he doesn't see the problem, if his are black and most of them are gray, who cares? It's not as if he chose to have different colored feathery abominations pop out of his back!
All things considered, he's sick of it already. He almost (almost) understood it from the people in town, when he was left very much to his own devices to beggar himself for clothes, since those people don't have to live in hovels with stupid wings and stupid halos at all... But at the same time. If the whole town of Glie burned to the ground tomorrow, he probably wouldn't feel a thing for those people. But these, the other Haibane?
These stares are just rude. He's already figured out how to flutter his wings irritably, which makes just enough people uncomfortable for him to keep doing it. How do you like him now?? As such, anyone who looks directly at him, whether they're even looking at his wings or not, will get the same Loudly Annoyed reaction:] What? Go on, say it! I know you all want to run your fat mouths at me, so do it!
[making friends]
OR: less suffering 2.0
[When he's not shrieking, Rian has taken it upon himself to investigate just what's so bad about having black wings.
Of course, his method for this is suddenly appearing much too close to other people and reaching out to simply pinch the edgemost feathers of their regular, gray wings, if he can do it without being noticed first.
Either way,] I don't see what the big, terrible deal is. Yours look filthy compared to mine, anyway.
[This cocoon seems totally disinterested in keeping its little hatchling, as Rian wakes up deposited backwards on the floor. His legs are still half in the cocoon, so it's an awkward few seconds where he tries to roll over and keep coughing out liquid without it drowning him again, but he manages... don't look at him during this trying time...
After he frees himself properly and kicks the outside of the split cocoon for good measure, he just--sits there, on the floor, looking down at himself. He sticks out his tongue, miming a gag.]
Ew. [And then, looking up,] Fetch me a towel, would you? Or maybe a whole bath.
[The littlest prince, sitting in a puddle of weird cocoon goo.]
TAKE.....these broken wings | just one pls
[The Haibane who tells him in gentle, simpering words that it's going to be difficult to get his wings, but he'll get through it! Everyone does! - well. They piss him off. He snaps enough times about being treated like a baby that he's left to mope feverishly on his bed - supervised, but not hovered over. It's still a bit much.
His wings take their sweet time, enough that the Haibane watching him has dozed off by the time he can tell that it's time. Damn them, what an idiot-- He hauls himself out of bed and roots through the medical kit in the dark, then stumbles his way into the hall. The loose robe is slipping and already dotted with blood in the back from what anyone can recognize as the movements of the wings trying to break through the skin, and if there's one thing he shouldn't be right now, it's upright. Upright and wandering, as he's going to go as far as he damn well can before the whole flesh-moving thing becomes too much.
Rules are for losers. In his hand is a pair of small scissors, the ones from the medical kit that are meant for nice things like cutting bandages, and not whatever this is. Which is, through labored breaths and a tiny bit of fevered delirium,]
I'm sick of this! I don't want these ugly things-- Why don't I just cut them out? Do you think I can reach?
[well. he's trying to reach. he's doing that now. he might also be weeping, lowkey.]
and a prompt with less suffering
[He'd have to be blind and deaf not to notice the reactions he gets from the other Haibane, already. It's obviously these stupid wings--he doesn't see the problem, if his are black and most of them are gray, who cares? It's not as if he chose to have different colored feathery abominations pop out of his back!
All things considered, he's sick of it already. He almost (almost) understood it from the people in town, when he was left very much to his own devices to beggar himself for clothes, since those people don't have to live in hovels with stupid wings and stupid halos at all... But at the same time. If the whole town of Glie burned to the ground tomorrow, he probably wouldn't feel a thing for those people. But these, the other Haibane?
These stares are just rude. He's already figured out how to flutter his wings irritably, which makes just enough people uncomfortable for him to keep doing it. How do you like him now?? As such, anyone who looks directly at him, whether they're even looking at his wings or not, will get the same Loudly Annoyed reaction:] What? Go on, say it! I know you all want to run your fat mouths at me, so do it!
[making friends]
OR: less suffering 2.0
[When he's not shrieking, Rian has taken it upon himself to investigate just what's so bad about having black wings.
Of course, his method for this is suddenly appearing much too close to other people and reaching out to simply pinch the edgemost feathers of their regular, gray wings, if he can do it without being noticed first.
Either way,] I don't see what the big, terrible deal is. Yours look filthy compared to mine, anyway.
raving reviews for the little hellion
Instead she focuses on what she can do. He won't go back into the room, dumb but she couldn't force him to do anything especially as he is now, so she would have to deal with this in the hallway. She could just run in to rouse the other haibane but if anything happened in those few split seconds it would most likely be disastrous. She would get her after he had calmed down. So, she leans forward to look over his shoulder at his back. They were coming soon.]
Okay. Then we'll just have to make do here then. [One last ditch effort to see if he will change his mind by himself and then-] If that is what you want to do you should probably sit down. You'll feel steadier.
[Wanting the wings or not Eve goes through the motions to try and prepare him. She doesn't let go of his wrist but she makes a move to try and push his robe away a bit, give his back some breathing room. If he was going to fuss and collapse in pain maybe he won't have to tear his skin and clothes. Maybe.]
coming to broadway: aloe
He still holds them, but he leans against the wall with his shoulder and then the rest of his body as he slides mutely to the floor. Okay.
Now he's sitting. And she's doing something with his robe that he barely notices save for the coolness of the air touching his inflamed skin.
This is strange, he thinks. He isn't sure his anger falling into a grim silence is what she meant by "steadier." He shuts his eyes against the pain, because there's nothing else for him to do now.]
Can't you talk about something else? I want to think about something different while I wait for this--this thing.