Tsuzuki Asato (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sweetdeath) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thenearshore2016-06-23 01:13 am
sweetdeath) wrote in thenearshore2016-06-23 01:13 am
[semi-open]
Who: Tsuzuki, Hisoka, Battler (and you!)
What: Hisoka's dead (or is he?) and Tsuzuki's not coping well.
When: March 27 & 28, 2016
Where: Tajimamori's temple
Warnings: Discussion of character death, depression, self-harm.
Closed to Battler/Late Night March 27
[Tsuzuki isn't sure how he got back to the temple. There are blank spaces in his memory, spreading darknesses after that searing moment when he felt Hisoka dying and his name shattering into an equally blank and empty space where their connection had been.
The sunflowers are blooming all around the porch, and the cloying-sweet scent of orange blossoms rises from the trees along the far wall. He isn't looking at them: he knows by the scent and the flower shadows swaying over the front door.
He reaches out and fumbles, blindly, for the door handle. Smooth, worn wood under his fingertips. Door frame. His thoughts come more slowly with each moment, leaving most of the information of his senses to flow past without interpretation or comment.
A splinter stabs his index finger, and Tsuzuki notes the pain as if from a very great distance. He doesn't flinch. His hand falls on the door handle, he turns it, and the door falls open.
Tsuzuki stumbles over the sill and falls heavily against the wall just inside it, sliding down slowly until he is curled at the base of it.
He closes his eyes.
There's blood everywhere behind his eyelids.]
March 28/Open to Visitors, Hisoka in the evening
[The window is open in Tsuzuki's room. He's not sure if he opened it. It's ... familiar.
It doesn't smell like cherry blossoms outside.
This isn't Meifu.
Hisoka was a shinki, not a shinigami, and Tsuzuki couldn't protect him.
All that blood, and he couldn't heal him.
His thoughts wander by slowly, and the blanks grow between them, until he's staring out the window without thinking anything at all.]
What: Hisoka's dead (or is he?) and Tsuzuki's not coping well.
When: March 27 & 28, 2016
Where: Tajimamori's temple
Warnings: Discussion of character death, depression, self-harm.
Closed to Battler/Late Night March 27
[Tsuzuki isn't sure how he got back to the temple. There are blank spaces in his memory, spreading darknesses after that searing moment when he felt Hisoka dying and his name shattering into an equally blank and empty space where their connection had been.
The sunflowers are blooming all around the porch, and the cloying-sweet scent of orange blossoms rises from the trees along the far wall. He isn't looking at them: he knows by the scent and the flower shadows swaying over the front door.
He reaches out and fumbles, blindly, for the door handle. Smooth, worn wood under his fingertips. Door frame. His thoughts come more slowly with each moment, leaving most of the information of his senses to flow past without interpretation or comment.
A splinter stabs his index finger, and Tsuzuki notes the pain as if from a very great distance. He doesn't flinch. His hand falls on the door handle, he turns it, and the door falls open.
Tsuzuki stumbles over the sill and falls heavily against the wall just inside it, sliding down slowly until he is curled at the base of it.
He closes his eyes.
There's blood everywhere behind his eyelids.]
March 28/Open to Visitors, Hisoka in the evening
[The window is open in Tsuzuki's room. He's not sure if he opened it. It's ... familiar.
It doesn't smell like cherry blossoms outside.
This isn't Meifu.
Hisoka was a shinki, not a shinigami, and Tsuzuki couldn't protect him.
All that blood, and he couldn't heal him.
His thoughts wander by slowly, and the blanks grow between them, until he's staring out the window without thinking anything at all.]
no subject
Between stifled sobs, he manages:] S-sorry.
no subject
Don't be sorry.
[A soft murmur. People can grieve as much as they want.]
no subject
[It was his idea in the first place. He let Hisoka come even knowing Hisoka couldn't fight that kind of power. And then he ran in at the end--
His hands come up to cover his face. It really, truly is his fault. Not just his responsibility. It's too overwhelming a burden.]
no subject
["Don't blame yourself", "don't say it". Those quite, solemn words could mean many things, but they just simply die off. Not like she knows the full extent of Hisoka's lack of presence, but not like she'll ask either.
What she does know is that Tsuzuki is not well right now.]
no subject
It's...
What now?]
no subject
A soft sigh comes out of her.]
I brought you a present from the party.
[For now, she'll keep the explanation brief.]
no subject
[He looks up at her again, startled back into focus from his thoughts.
There was a party? Oh -- right. Hajime. Pool. He'd meant to go. No wonder she'd come.]
no subject
[She lets her gaze linger on the tupperware before shifting her eyes towards Tsuzuki once more.]
There are cookies, sandwiches, and those cute little hot dogs in the shape of octopus.
no subject
He nods.]
... Thanks.
no subject
[What follows is quiet laughter, short and restrained. Right, Tsuzuki did say that he was going to a trip to hell along with Elsa and other gods, but she's not sure if it's even appropriate to ask when he's going through a mourning period.
So snacks it is.]
Please enjoy them.
no subject
I'll -- I'll leave it in the kitchen. Battler should have some.
[He puts his head down on his knees again (remember, Tsuzuki, remember there's another shinki depending on you, he says to himself, and takes a deep breath.)]
no subject
[Sheryl simply gives a short nod at that, noticing Tsuzuki put his head down again. Well... now what? A sigh.]
I know your friend is gone, but... please. Hang in there.
no subject
He was -- somehow.]
no subject
I can stay with you for a while longer if you like.
[Just in case if he needs it]
no subject
Thanks, Sheryl.
no subject
[Even when overtaken by guilt, Tsuzuki prompts Sheryl to smile back in return, a small chuckle under her breath. It's more subdued and wan than her usual smiles, but it's still present.]
Remember, you'll rarely find a woman as incredible as me.
[So she says with a lighter tone, just as subdued, but her face brightens up the slightest bit in an attempt to make the mood less dreary.]
no subject
[Tsuzuki's trying to keep his smile intact. She's trying really hard to help, too. It's not just Battler he's got to stay strong for, is it? It's -- everyone.
He falters for a moment, almost letting his head fall back onto his knees, then gets up onto one knee and reaches for the Tupperware of snacks. Right. He's got to put it in the kitchen. It's something small enough that maybe he can do it, and let Sheryl feel a little better, too.]