kingdomdressing | never look back

Entry tags:

axel

never look back

Sh-shut up!

[Axel thought he was free of these episodes. They hadn't happened, at least, since he'd been brought back to the past, and he only assumed that the loss of the heart would make them stop altogether. That assumption had been incorrect. With a particularly panicked affect, he was backed up against the wall in that room he'd died in, pressing against it as if he hoped he could just melt away... Tired and tormented green eyes were staring unfocused ahead as he caught his breath. Paranoia clawed at him.

Anyone passing by might notice his chakrams embedded into the wall opposite him, accompanied by a few scorchmarks, which were already dissipating as the wall mended itself. The smell of burning fabric might also be notable, as he'd gotten a little careless, singed his gloves.]

I want out. [He turns over, slamming a fist angrily into the wall he'd just been pressing his back against, scarred face twisted with rage and desperation.] I can't watch it happen again...

[Chakrams are returned to his grasp and he goes at the wall with renewed fury, but it is of course a futile effort. He keeps up like this and he's only going to end up hurting himself.]

(ooc: Mun's had a lame day ~~more like week~~ and wanted to try and make Axel's worse. Hooray, displacement. Or is this projection?)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I'm not done. Hold your other hand out.

[takes aim.]

... [Axel just stares at him for a moment, as if the blond in front of him were insane, but slowly, he puts his hand out, where it had been. Of course, he considers keeping it close to him so perhaps the bullet will rip through and finish the job, but he's curious. Masochist? Nooo...]

[and so he aims, pulling the trigger with ease and no remorse. there's something dark and unforgiving about his eyes.]

[Axel winces again, holding his hand up to his face to examine it, then the other. He's getting blood on the carpet.

After a quiet moment, trying to keep his breathing steady, he looks past his hands at Roxas.]

Did he piss you off?

No.

[he's hobbling closer again, his nose wrinkled in an attempt to hide the sharp jolts of pain up his thigh and through his spine.]

I wanna fucking smoke but I can't.

[At a bit of a loss as to what to do with his hands, as he can't really use them to tend to them, Axel just holds them in front of him, watching Roxas. They hurt like Hell...]

Why not? [He seems strangely calm about the fact that you just shot him. Twice.]

You should have killed me.

I'll be disappointing the boy I wrote poetry about.

[stands in front of him for a moment before lashing out with a punch at Axel's chest.]

The one whose sadness made y--[Axel can't finish that sentence, as his lungs have suddenly had all the air forced out of them. Perhaps the fist that had just collided with his chest was the cause. He stumbles back and hits the wall, his hands slipping when he tries to brace himself, leaving lovely red tracks of blood in their path.]

... Mad. [He finally finished, coughing. He hadn't been prepared for that at all.]

So you take it out on me instead.

No.

[approaches again, staring down at him.]

You're bad at guessing. I'm doing this to give you something to whine about, since you seem apt.

Hah. A friend of mine calls me an idiot for that... A lot. You really think I need more reasons to whine?

[He looks up at Roxas, expression one of only mild irritation.]

And I meant that you were taking it out on me that you couldn't smoke. Makes your irritable. How old are you?

My age isn't any of your business, and withdrawal is more of a reason to bitch than you getting restless.

Take it like this.

The outside world-- it's not here. You can't get to it, you can't see it, and it isn't as accessible to anyone else any more than it is to you.

[takes a deep breath, tucking his gun away.]

Smokes? They're right here. I gotta watch people burn them, smell the smell, and I have to stare at a pack on the counter every now and again, and I know I'm not allowed to have them.

Tell me, who has a right to be pissed?

I've been here for over fifteen years, you think I still give a fuck about the 'outside world'? I want to be in my own time...

[He can't decide if he's disappointed or relieved that the gun has been put away. Axel's legs give out with the awkward way he's slumped against the wall and he hits the floor, wincing as he catches himself on his hands.]

You're upset about cigarettes? The kid I killed is here. I get to see him, hear his voice, and soon enough, watch him die again.

But no, let's listen to you bitch more about your precious nicotine.

Throwing your ugly pinwheels into a wall like a seven year old who doesn't want to do his homework isn't going to make him go away, it isn't going to make him not die, it isn't going to throw you back to your world, and it isn't going to make anything better.

My step brother is here, my best friend is here with his soon-to-be wife, my other good friend is here, and a girl I know? Came here right after giving birth. I could go on and on about what I've done and what I haven't done, but it's not going to change shit about shit, so what's the use?

None. If I could go back home and make sure everything was going right again, god I would in a heartbeat but there's no way out. There's nothing we can do to change what's already happened besides wait it out.

You should know if anything that dying won't do a single thing.

...

At least it would give me a break.

Besides, maybe this would be the time I don't get brought back. The death god's done more than enough meddling, don't think he could pull it off again.

Why the fuck do you care?

I care because you're one of two fucking people I talk to in this entire shithole.

[Axel looks down at his hands.]

Tch, I'm honored, Rox.

[there's a long silence, and then he's tugging Axel up by the front of his coat.]

Come on, before those get infected.

[Axel gets unsteadily to his feet, almost losing his balance, but he manages to stay upright.]

H-hey, check it out, [He holds his hands up to his face, looking through the bullet holes.] I see you...

[there's something in his eyes that flickers. something unsure and scared, but it's gone as soon as it was there. he turns his head and starts walking, expecting Axel to follow.]

... [Axel arches a brow. And he thought his own sense of humor was dead. Pondering it, the redhead followed Roxas.]

Too morbid for you?

Now's not the time.

[just limps along, in search of the bathroom.]

I could drop dead of gangrene or bloodloss any second. Now might be the only time I've got.

[He frowns.] There are people here that can help you with your leg, you know. Healers and stuff.

I already did what I could. I'm not letting that magic shit touch me when I'm not from a world that has it.

[rounds into the bathroom.]

If you want to wander around and find a healer for your hands, be my guest. I was going to stitch you up without numbing you.

[smiles back at him. it's bitter.]

... [Axel considers Roxas quietly, weighing the pros and cons. He doesn't trust that smile, but neither does he trust wandering around in this state. Call it paranoia--something he's never in short supply of.]

Ehh, I'll risk it with you. You couldn't be too horrible of a doctor, right? [Two words: Closet. Masochist.]

When you're in a gang, you learn to fight, and you learn to lick your wounds clean.

[rolls his shoulders with a shrug, sifting through drawers for supplies.]

I liked to be precise, because I didn't care for being down and out while others appreciated having a reason to slack.

never look back

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)