The Disciple ♌ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
disciplewhomsignlessloves) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-06-27 01:29 am
disciplewhomsignlessloves) wrote in thecapitol2014-06-27 01:29 am
Entry tags:
Memories they haunt his mind
Who| The Disciple & The Signless
What| Post arena checkups and piling, with callouts and talks of dumb shit. Also sitting on Vantases
Where| Twelfth floor, Signless' room
When| A few days after the death of Signless
Warnings/Notes| Mush perhaps and frank talk of death and amputation probably?
If she's honest, it's strange watching him die from the outside. It usually happens in front of her or she hears his name called out in the death listings. So watching him go down like this, helpless to save him and having to watch the process--she doesn't like it in the slightest. His horn cracks and she winces, turns away for the rest. Perfect audio brings the cries to her ears but it's over soon enough. It hurts. If she'd survived that leg, she could have been there, been there for that idiotic fight. For this inevitable death. She didn't and it's over. Over and done.
The delay between his death and his return at least gave her time to think. The Initiate was still out there but he probably wouldn't last much longer. She needed to keep them seperated until Terezi returned.
And well, there was that to talk about.
She gave it a day before she started camping out in the Twelfth District's lounge. She got a few weird looks, but like clockwork she took the elevator up around noon, peeked in his room and stuck around until 7, monopolizing their television to keep up with the arena. One lounge was much like another and this one was easier to keep a watch from.
Her habit was rewarded a few days later when she went to check his room and found him already up. He's swept immediately into a hug, warm and comforting, even if it gets hair in his face and claws snagged in his shirt.
And without really asking, she's up again, finding blankets--far more than he could really use on the bed she thinks--and dragging them into a suitable pile. Asking would be silly, she's seen the arena. They both have things to talk about and not starting as soon as she could would just end up with a repeat of last time.
When it seems suitably piled and nested, she glances back at him.
"I know about it all. So, I figured..." A wave at the pile and she pats it, hopefully invitingly.
What| Post arena checkups and piling, with callouts and talks of dumb shit. Also sitting on Vantases
Where| Twelfth floor, Signless' room
When| A few days after the death of Signless
Warnings/Notes| Mush perhaps and frank talk of death and amputation probably?
If she's honest, it's strange watching him die from the outside. It usually happens in front of her or she hears his name called out in the death listings. So watching him go down like this, helpless to save him and having to watch the process--she doesn't like it in the slightest. His horn cracks and she winces, turns away for the rest. Perfect audio brings the cries to her ears but it's over soon enough. It hurts. If she'd survived that leg, she could have been there, been there for that idiotic fight. For this inevitable death. She didn't and it's over. Over and done.
The delay between his death and his return at least gave her time to think. The Initiate was still out there but he probably wouldn't last much longer. She needed to keep them seperated until Terezi returned.
And well, there was that to talk about.
She gave it a day before she started camping out in the Twelfth District's lounge. She got a few weird looks, but like clockwork she took the elevator up around noon, peeked in his room and stuck around until 7, monopolizing their television to keep up with the arena. One lounge was much like another and this one was easier to keep a watch from.
Her habit was rewarded a few days later when she went to check his room and found him already up. He's swept immediately into a hug, warm and comforting, even if it gets hair in his face and claws snagged in his shirt.
And without really asking, she's up again, finding blankets--far more than he could really use on the bed she thinks--and dragging them into a suitable pile. Asking would be silly, she's seen the arena. They both have things to talk about and not starting as soon as she could would just end up with a repeat of last time.
When it seems suitably piled and nested, she glances back at him.
"I know about it all. So, I figured..." A wave at the pile and she pats it, hopefully invitingly.
no subject
He thinks of Karkat, of Karkat's valiant efforts to pretend that his moirail having another moirail didn't make him just a little uncomfortable. It's understandable that most trolls would take some time to get used to the idea, and it worries him that Terezi might be in a similar position of ignoring discomfort to make her new moirail happy.
On the other hand, his impression of Terezi is that she's very direct. If she were really bothered she almost certainly would have said, right?
no subject
It's difficult, having two moirails, especially when you are not used to it. It's difficult and only Signless really understands.
no subject
"That's fine, I wouldn't expect her to. She deals with me quite enough in one quadrant. I wouldn't want to impose on her others."
no subject
Not that they pile together a lot, but he's fully capable of soothing two parties at once. She has far too much experience with that, given she and Mituna were often set off by similar things.
no subject
He smiles.
"You should put her first, I think. I have Karkat to take care of me."