[identity profile] rolling-boy.livejournal.com
[To be honest, this was not what the teen was expecting when he woke up. Some odd sort of dream? Either way, he doesn't look quite the same as the normal newcomer to the city... while his haircut is definitely reminiscent of a Mikuo, his hair is a very normal, natural shade of black. Unlike the Zatsune who recently showed up, though, his eyes were still that calm, peaceful green. The scar on his cheek hadn't quite healed, though the bandage covering it was long gone.

...more importantly, he seems to regard the place with an air of moderately pessimistic indifference, as if he'd lived in a city like this his entire life and was already bored with the place. His hands are buried in his pockets, and he's just milling around, not really paying attention to where he's going. If he's not careful, he could just run right into somebody.]

I-Intro

Oct. 25th, 2010 03:58 am
[identity profile] scratchitaround.livejournal.com
[She's standing off to the side, just...standing. Maybe that last roll caused her to hit her head harder than she thought.]
[identity profile] rollagain.livejournal.com
[ if you pass by the bottom of the hill in the park, you might not notice the first pebble that tumbles down the slope, as it's very small, and barely makes a sound. the second one is the same, although it lands a little closer to your feet. the third one is a little bigger, and also manages to hit you in the side of your ankle.

if you were to look up to the top of the hill, you'll see her sitting there, a pile of small rocks next to her, and a rather lost expression on her face as she seems unable to decide whether or not she should speak.

finally, she does say, quietly-
]

Sorry.
[identity profile] driveyouflat.livejournal.com
Nothing to see here, move along!
[identity profile] rollagain.livejournal.com
[ She's standing at the top of the hill.

She's only just recovered enough to be able to walk, and the first thing she did was make her way out of that stuffy room in the castle where Kaito and that other man live. A part of her has come to hate that room, in the time she spent there -- hurting, unable to move, being tended to. The worst injuries she'd ever received while rolling were a broken arm, a twisted ankle -- nothing like this. Nothing to render her so helpless, so completely dependent on others.

But it's over, now. She can move again; she doesn't need anyone, anymore. And she's standing at the top of the hill.

If she takes one step forward, she knows what will happen. She will roll down, the same way she always had, hitting all the sticks and the rocks and the bumps in the ground on her way down, and all of his carefully-made stitches will burst apart, reopening all the wounds from before, and all the blood in her body will seep through them, and what he had interrupted will finally be seen through to the end.

That's all she really ever wanted. One step, and she can have it.

The wind hits against her back, as if beckoning her.

And yet she's staring down at the slope, without moving an inch.
]
[identity profile] rollagain.livejournal.com
[ She rolls into this place quite literally, as if the ground beneath her has been angled downwards up until this exact moment. The motion of her body doesn't stop straight away; she can make out the sky just barely -- a blurry, oscillating mess -- then the ground, then the sky, then the ground -- until she finally goes still, face pressed into the dirt.

Her vision's gone black around the edges, swirling in and out of focus. There are pains in her arms and torso and legs, from old and new wounds alike, and she can feel a warm liquid tricking down her knee, where she must've cut herself against a particularly sharp rock. She lies there, without moving, and waits.

Her breath grows steady again, soon enough. Another failure. Maybe soon.

She sits up.
]

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