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concoursec2010-09-05 08:56 pm
lilyofthedrills.livejournal.com) wrote in concoursec2010-09-05 08:56 pm
Entry tags:
because hell, hell is for children
Character(s): Yuri, Irvine
Location: Wherever Irvine-mun chooses
Rating: R for violence to aliens
Open/Closed/Finished: Closed
Summary: Irvine gets a heaping dose of a little girl's traumas
You are an awkward, gangly eleven years of age. Sent to the shed behind the school, your duty today consists of feeding the various aliens your party has captured throughout the year.
A month ago you would have found this duty terrifying. It's still scary, of course. But the fear is nothing more than a dull, throbbing background noise. The dominant emotion here is irritation. Why is it always you?
The shed is dim and it smells funny, an acrid but cloyingly sweet scent so like the sweat of Earthling animals, and yet subtly different. The creatures bang at their bars with club fists, shriek, gibber and gnaw, in a hundred different ways. It's hot under the corrugated steel roof.
Your Borg says little, as usual keeping his own enigmatic council, but assists by pinning down the smaller ones and shielding you from the big ones with his protective wings and drills.
You're closing the door to the Ushigata cage when the other drills pierce him. Through Borg, you feel the sickening violation of having inch thick organic steel penetrate your mucutaneous body. He emits a sound like HNNNNGGGH as his pupils turn from their normal watery black circles, to Xes, and finally go completely blank.
You feel him die. You feel the covering of his froggy body slide off your head.
The three boys wearing their borglike alien hats (some lesser species? an offshoot? your borg's opposite sex? you don't know or care to know) are still standing there with ecstatic, idiotic open mouthed grins on their faces. They are moronically pleased with the success of their attack.
That lasts about three seconds.
Borg is now a mass of hairlike substance, which quickly transforms half of itself into drilltacles, an obscene mockery of the way human hair can become dreadlocks. Dying, Borg is entering some kind of berserker mode, an instinctual fugue designed by long millenia of evolution on his home planet to protect the host. With uncanny accuracy, he pierces the three psuedo borgs and the boys fall backwards, fainting.
You barely notice. This is the final indignity. After months of exhausting and terrifying work in the Alien Party, this is simply too much. Hot wet globs of tears run down your cheeks, your throat tightens and you cry as you move slowly towards the door. As you do, Borg, or what's left of him anyway, sends his drilltacles out to pierce everything nonhuman in the shed. All around you is an orgy of green colored gore and the cries of dying animals.
You don't notice. You barely notice Ms. Hisakawa standing in the doorway with her usual dissapointed expression.
You walk slowly towards the main school building. Inside the gymnasium, you find Kumi and Kasumi, your comrades in the Alien Party, holding each other, also crying, their borgs humming in pain and tension. They feel what you feel. Their borgs feel what yours just felt. What's-left-of-Borg pierces them too, ending their suffering. You move on, heading for the classroom where your friend said to meet you after you were done.
You see her looking astonished. Borg, having nothing more to destroy, finally gives up the ghost and falls to the floor. Down there he looks like some demented wig, hardly something that had been berating you for your cowardice half an hour ago.
You step over and on him as you walk to Miyuu and collapse to your knees, sobbing against her stomach.
It will be almost two hours and with some reluctance when your parents come to get you.
[OOC: The memory is this from 20:55 on]
Location: Wherever Irvine-mun chooses
Rating: R for violence to aliens
Open/Closed/Finished: Closed
Summary: Irvine gets a heaping dose of a little girl's traumas
You are an awkward, gangly eleven years of age. Sent to the shed behind the school, your duty today consists of feeding the various aliens your party has captured throughout the year.
A month ago you would have found this duty terrifying. It's still scary, of course. But the fear is nothing more than a dull, throbbing background noise. The dominant emotion here is irritation. Why is it always you?
The shed is dim and it smells funny, an acrid but cloyingly sweet scent so like the sweat of Earthling animals, and yet subtly different. The creatures bang at their bars with club fists, shriek, gibber and gnaw, in a hundred different ways. It's hot under the corrugated steel roof.
Your Borg says little, as usual keeping his own enigmatic council, but assists by pinning down the smaller ones and shielding you from the big ones with his protective wings and drills.
You're closing the door to the Ushigata cage when the other drills pierce him. Through Borg, you feel the sickening violation of having inch thick organic steel penetrate your mucutaneous body. He emits a sound like HNNNNGGGH as his pupils turn from their normal watery black circles, to Xes, and finally go completely blank.
You feel him die. You feel the covering of his froggy body slide off your head.
The three boys wearing their borglike alien hats (some lesser species? an offshoot? your borg's opposite sex? you don't know or care to know) are still standing there with ecstatic, idiotic open mouthed grins on their faces. They are moronically pleased with the success of their attack.
That lasts about three seconds.
Borg is now a mass of hairlike substance, which quickly transforms half of itself into drilltacles, an obscene mockery of the way human hair can become dreadlocks. Dying, Borg is entering some kind of berserker mode, an instinctual fugue designed by long millenia of evolution on his home planet to protect the host. With uncanny accuracy, he pierces the three psuedo borgs and the boys fall backwards, fainting.
You barely notice. This is the final indignity. After months of exhausting and terrifying work in the Alien Party, this is simply too much. Hot wet globs of tears run down your cheeks, your throat tightens and you cry as you move slowly towards the door. As you do, Borg, or what's left of him anyway, sends his drilltacles out to pierce everything nonhuman in the shed. All around you is an orgy of green colored gore and the cries of dying animals.
You don't notice. You barely notice Ms. Hisakawa standing in the doorway with her usual dissapointed expression.
You walk slowly towards the main school building. Inside the gymnasium, you find Kumi and Kasumi, your comrades in the Alien Party, holding each other, also crying, their borgs humming in pain and tension. They feel what you feel. Their borgs feel what yours just felt. What's-left-of-Borg pierces them too, ending their suffering. You move on, heading for the classroom where your friend said to meet you after you were done.
You see her looking astonished. Borg, having nothing more to destroy, finally gives up the ghost and falls to the floor. Down there he looks like some demented wig, hardly something that had been berating you for your cowardice half an hour ago.
You step over and on him as you walk to Miyuu and collapse to your knees, sobbing against her stomach.
It will be almost two hours and with some reluctance when your parents come to get you.
[OOC: The memory is this from 20:55 on]
no subject
Irritation hits. Why is it always you? The feeling is strangely nostalgic, and he would recoil if he had control over this body. As it stands, all he does is watch and deal with the girl's emotions as they come. He watches what she does -- what he's doing, and takes in the surrounding as best as uncontrolled vision allows him. The entire process of what she's doing involving these creatures is odd, but at this point he's resigned to thinking it will continue to be this way.
Then the violation strikes, and that feeling of death hits him like a sledgehammer. This isn't what he thought it'd lead to. The three boys' reaction makes him more sick, and he can feel the tears welling in the girls' eyes. He feels like he's crying. (He hasn't cried in so long.)
He can barely keep up with all that happens next. The hat-like creature warps itself and pierces the creatures nestled on the boys' heads. The girl barely notices, and so does he; point is, he notices.
The tears are coming down in full force, and he feels them trickling down her cheeks. Her throat feels constricted. The sound of death is overwhelming, and the green substance filling the floor intensifies the gravity of violence committed in mere seconds. Again, he notices -- the woman this time, but he's also distracted and distraught by what's on the floor.
He sees more crying. He can't see herself -- himself, it feels like -- crying, so now he has to see others cry. It's a far too sad sight. Is that a mercy killing? Either way, there's more piercing and more ugly substance spilling onto the floor, and he's not sure how much more of this he can take in one go. He's not sure how much more the poor girl can take.
Eventually the creature on her head falls. The inside is horribly dry in contrast to the other creatures that oozed so much fluid. She's still crying, now on her knees in front of her friend. She seems to do so for an eternity, and that makes him uncomfortable and anxious. He wants her to stop. Not just for his sake (is there a "his sake?"), but hers as well. It's so, so sad.
Two hours, he thinks, is longer than an eternity for one's own parents to take to fetch their child.
Poor girl.