I think he'd like to be a bird- but really, he's more like a kitten. Curious about everything.
[He turns, and quietly hands Alois the spade. ... it's impossible to make this right. It kills him that something had to go through that pain. He's angry and worried and scared, knows that he's facing a true battle, but he doesn't believe that Alois is beyond help.
[ with nervous reluctance, alois takes hold of the spade's handle and it makes him feel icy to hold it, to know he's about to dig a grave. this is the least he can do, though. he isn't a sociopath or a lunatic.
deep breath, then he pierces the earth with the metal and not very much dirt is loosened. he frowns, bites into his tongue (it's a punishment) as harsh as possible, shrugs the coat off and attempts it again, straining his wrists to get the spade under grass and dirt. this time much more comes.
the work of it is infuriating. how long are small things like this going to remind him of what he learned? but, he can't bear thinking about going back inside until he knows the hen has flowers over it, so he works and works, biting down into his tongue more and more. his arms shake, he weeps without a sound, and he can taste salt and metallic in his mouth.
he manages a foot deep, before he's stopping, because it's grown difficult to see. shuddering breaths leave him, there's blood on the inner-edge of his lips, and he wipes the back of his hand over his eyes. ]
[It's slow going and difficult work even for an adult. The ground is starting to harden as it gets colder, and the early morning isn't a prime time for tilling the fields.
Al waits silently with him, listening to the spade work the dirt, and thinks of his mother's funeral and how the sounds remind him so much of the gravediggers working nearby.
Once Alois is done, kneels down next to him, puts a hand on the small of his back.]
[ it really, really shouldn't be this easy to make with teeth alone raw cuts across the tongue, both on top and bottom, but true self-loathing can make a person do a lot of things. he hasn't severed it, but he's somehow managed to ruin it enough for it keep bubbling up a little, not unlike a gash on the skin that takes a day to properly close itself.
tears sting, so he clenches his eyes shut and stifles a sob when he feels al's hand, shoulders shuddering. biting into it, hadn't hurt at all, and all he could think of was the contract and of claude, claude lying about the worst possible thing, his lack of being there, and alois' own stupid inability to let go or hate him properly.
his teeth aren't settled against tissue anymore, and it feels swollen and burns, and he swallows and swallows the tiny bursts of blood that come up, keeping a hand over his mouth. he wants to scream though. he wants ice water. he wants the whole damn thing removed entirely. he wants to be a headless hen. ]
[ ah. for a second, he isn't sure whether he wants to turn more away or tilt his face closer. he is feeling self-conscious and bizarrely isolated, however. maybe because that constant throbbing makes him think of nothing but the contract, how claude's fingernail moved against him to create it, his eyes all magenta and horrific, and he wonders, in a panic, if he's managed to obliterate the contract by doing this.
or, maybe even worse, if it was when he arrived here.
it's, at this point, impossible to keep his thoughts steady on al or the chicken or anything else. he takes a gasp, then he's racking sobs again, suddenly, but with more gasping, nearing hyperventilating. ]
[ it's a lot more uncontrolled and hysterical than before. any attempt to speak makes him take in too much air, then cough, he forgets to swallow and he's definitely bleeding. he can feel it on his chin and frenzied hands come up to wipe.
coughing, coughing, some more aching sobs and, finally: ] I need Claude. I can't— Claude, Claude.
[Al touches his cheeks, knowing there it's any comfort in it, and draws his jacket around the boy's shoulders again. He's never been so scared for someone in his life, felt more helpless than now. Even when Ed lost his limbs, he had some sort of solution, he knew what would help.
Now, he's more powerless than he's ever been.]
Breathe, Alois. Slowly. You're here with me and nothing is hurting you right now. You're not in danger. We'll figure this out.
[ an anguished scream, it's not loud per se, but it's gut-wrenching. it collapses back into sobbing, disjointed mutters of 'please' or 'claude.'
he can't calm down, not properly. claude's always done it for him. he does become dizzy, however; drained. it isn't until then that he tilts his head against al's shoulder, breathing shallowly, blood dripping lightly from his bottom lip. ]
[Al holds him through it, lets him scream out the tantrum, cry until there's nothing left. Time means very little right now. He strokes his hair, arms warm and steady.]
[ he hasn't it in him to move, so he rests there, vaguely lulled even if most of it was tuckering himself out. he wipes his lip with his wrist, swallows, winces. and, al is warm, which makes him desire less to pull away and put himself back in the cold air. ]
Dear one, you can't go biting your tongue like that. Or hurting yourself- it might feel better for the moment, but your body is precious, and it's the only one you've got.
[He strokes his hair, his voice heavy.]
I learned that too.
[It was a heavy admission to make, and one he rarely mentioned out loud, but when he'd first gotten his body back, he'd been too fascinated with sensation. Thankfully it wasn't never near this level.]
[ ah, al has accidentally given him something to hide behind. to feel less weak, less like this. something that won't necessarily work (this is al. a truly good person, after all), but has always worked for the lewd-minded men he's been around before.
the movements are slight, a raised shoulder, half-lowered eyelashes, his lip curls a little, in what should just be the right amount. practiced, subtle, but to the point of perfection. he's already pretty, but he knows how to make himself look even more alluring. ]
[Thankfully, Urahara had warned him well enough in advance that it only caused a small shiver of worry for him. Al took a deep breath, set a hand on top of his head in a fatherly way.]
[ as if al's peered right in through his rib cage. his guts twist. he becomes too aware of the stinging of his tongue, the icy air on his hands, the dirt.
what, exactly, is he to do? how is it so many people catch onto him so quickly? his heart is thrumming against his eardrums. ]
[He doesn't hug him close again. Instead he looks at his eyes, his face, watching him and not the surface. Al's eyes aren't flat or distant. There are lines on his face, worry and caring, a note to his voice that begs Alois to listen.]
[ it has a way of making him feel more vulnerable, more revealing. in the span of a couple moments, he peers back with eyes that are too wide, anxious and uncertain, and then they fall away in irritated shame. he swallows, as he has been since cutting his tongue a little, and digs his fingers into the grass to stave himself from another flinch.
it's good it smarts so much. he hopes claude is feeling it, too, somehow. but, he deserves this. al is unnervingly, perfectly kind, and all alois can think of is how disgusting he is.
just like that, though, he's looking back up, laughing everything off lightly. ]
Didn't you say something like that inside? I heard you. It's fine! Don't be strange. Let's put her to sleep, now. Let's give her flowers. She'll grow her own, too, you know. Isn't that beautiful?
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Date: 2012-10-20 07:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-20 07:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-20 07:07 am (UTC)[He smiles, just a small bit.]
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Date: 2012-10-20 07:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-20 07:23 am (UTC)[He turns, and quietly hands Alois the spade. ... it's impossible to make this right. It kills him that something had to go through that pain. He's angry and worried and scared, knows that he's facing a true battle, but he doesn't believe that Alois is beyond help.
Today will be the first step.]
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Date: 2012-10-20 03:21 pm (UTC)deep breath, then he pierces the earth with the metal and not very much dirt is loosened. he frowns, bites into his tongue (it's a punishment) as harsh as possible, shrugs the coat off and attempts it again, straining his wrists to get the spade under grass and dirt. this time much more comes.
the work of it is infuriating. how long are small things like this going to remind him of what he learned? but, he can't bear thinking about going back inside until he knows the hen has flowers over it, so he works and works, biting down into his tongue more and more. his arms shake, he weeps without a sound, and he can taste salt and metallic in his mouth.
he manages a foot deep, before he's stopping, because it's grown difficult to see. shuddering breaths leave him, there's blood on the inner-edge of his lips, and he wipes the back of his hand over his eyes. ]
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Date: 2012-10-20 05:31 pm (UTC)Al waits silently with him, listening to the spade work the dirt, and thinks of his mother's funeral and how the sounds remind him so much of the gravediggers working nearby.
Once Alois is done, kneels down next to him, puts a hand on the small of his back.]
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Date: 2012-10-20 05:43 pm (UTC)tears sting, so he clenches his eyes shut and stifles a sob when he feels al's hand, shoulders shuddering. biting into it, hadn't hurt at all, and all he could think of was the contract and of claude, claude lying about the worst possible thing, his lack of being there, and alois' own stupid inability to let go or hate him properly.
his teeth aren't settled against tissue anymore, and it feels swollen and burns, and he swallows and swallows the tiny bursts of blood that come up, keeping a hand over his mouth. he wants to scream though. he wants ice water. he wants the whole damn thing removed entirely. he wants to be a headless hen. ]
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Date: 2012-10-20 06:03 pm (UTC)[Al reaches out to touch his cheek, his voice suddenly urgent and concerned.]
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Date: 2012-10-20 06:10 pm (UTC)or, maybe even worse, if it was when he arrived here.
it's, at this point, impossible to keep his thoughts steady on al or the chicken or anything else. he takes a gasp, then he's racking sobs again, suddenly, but with more gasping, nearing hyperventilating. ]
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Date: 2012-10-20 06:15 pm (UTC)Did you bite yourself-?
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Date: 2012-10-20 07:40 pm (UTC)coughing, coughing, some more aching sobs and, finally: ] I need Claude. I can't— Claude, Claude.
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Date: 2012-10-20 07:47 pm (UTC)Now, he's more powerless than he's ever been.]
Breathe, Alois. Slowly. You're here with me and nothing is hurting you right now. You're not in danger. We'll figure this out.
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Date: 2012-10-20 07:50 pm (UTC)I need Claude! [ that's livid, the next immediately slips back into desperation, though. ] Please, please I need Claude. Please, give him to me.
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Date: 2012-10-20 07:55 pm (UTC)[Reminding him, gently but firmly.]
You have me right now. Breathe.
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Date: 2012-10-20 08:12 pm (UTC)he can't calm down, not properly. claude's always done it for him. he does become dizzy, however; drained. it isn't until then that he tilts his head against al's shoulder, breathing shallowly, blood dripping lightly from his bottom lip. ]
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Date: 2012-10-20 08:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-20 08:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-20 11:14 pm (UTC)[He strokes his hair, his voice heavy.]
I learned that too.
[It was a heavy admission to make, and one he rarely mentioned out loud, but when he'd first gotten his body back, he'd been too fascinated with sensation. Thankfully it wasn't never near this level.]
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Date: 2012-10-21 07:37 pm (UTC)the movements are slight, a raised shoulder, half-lowered eyelashes, his lip curls a little, in what should just be the right amount. practiced, subtle, but to the point of perfection. he's already pretty, but he knows how to make himself look even more alluring. ]
You think it's precious?
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Date: 2012-10-22 02:49 am (UTC)... that doesn't make you an object, either.
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Date: 2012-10-22 03:04 am (UTC)what, exactly, is he to do? how is it so many people catch onto him so quickly? his heart is thrumming against his eardrums. ]
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Date: 2012-10-22 04:34 am (UTC)[He doesn't hug him close again. Instead he looks at his eyes, his face, watching him and not the surface. Al's eyes aren't flat or distant. There are lines on his face, worry and caring, a note to his voice that begs Alois to listen.]
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Date: 2012-10-22 07:51 pm (UTC)it's good it smarts so much. he hopes claude is feeling it, too, somehow. but, he deserves this. al is unnervingly, perfectly kind, and all alois can think of is how disgusting he is.
just like that, though, he's looking back up, laughing everything off lightly. ]
Didn't you say something like that inside? I heard you. It's fine! Don't be strange. Let's put her to sleep, now. Let's give her flowers. She'll grow her own, too, you know. Isn't that beautiful?
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Date: 2012-10-23 05:36 am (UTC)All right. Be ready to cover her.
[He lays the hen gently in the hole, watching it, deep in thought.]