Elliot Nightray (
holyknights) wrote2011-06-07 02:57 am
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♞ III. action.
[After finally finding an opportunity to escape from his house, Elliot makes his way through the rain to the barracks. His intent is to let some of his frustration out, but it isn't going as well as he'd like. What should be flawless techniques are interrupted when his hand freezes up, forcing him to drop his precious black blade. Multiple times.
It would take more than a stupid handicap to make Elliot Nightray give up, though. It didn't matter how frustrating it was.
Sooner or later, he'll head back, but he's not in any hurry to do so. It's been almost a week since he returned and his condition hasn't improved much at all. He hates this place. He hates it with a passion.]
It would take more than a stupid handicap to make Elliot Nightray give up, though. It didn't matter how frustrating it was.
Sooner or later, he'll head back, but he's not in any hurry to do so. It's been almost a week since he returned and his condition hasn't improved much at all. He hates this place. He hates it with a passion.]
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Of course he wouldn't. Why would he? Four days Leo had spent tearing the house apart in an almost crazed frenzy because Elliot had gone missing. He'd spent the past week telling himself that he wouldn't allow anyone to take him away again, that he'd by far volunteer to take his master's place. His best friend's place.
It's a sickening loathing that he feels-- not towards Elliot, not towards the Malnosso but the fact that he had thought of letting himself fly out of control in the first place. Of course Elliot wouldn't understand. Who would want to understand thinking like that anyway? Of course Elliot wouldn't understand. He was too radiant, too pure.
It is very possible, at this moment, that he may be crying. But it's hard to tell when it's raining like this anyway. His voice is a little duller.]
You're really an insensitive blockhead, you know that?
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He stays silent.]
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You know what? He's done. He doesn't want to stay here and just...yell at him. He's tired, he's wet and he's crying and that's stupid. He's wants to go home.
To wherever home is.]
Just-- just come home.
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Insensitive, that was what he'd said. Then what he'd said before that... He must have been talking about the time that he was gone. Kidnapped.]
You were worried...?
[Was all of this because of that?]
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You thought I'd been taken again?
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Later, he'd have to talk to his servant about yelling at his master like that, but in the meantime, Elliot bends down to pick up his sword and put it away. Then, he'll approach Leo slowly, carefully, keeping in mind that his servant had always been rather unstable.]
Leo...
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I'm sorry. I didn't...
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Let's go home.
[There's an underlying urgent tone in his quiet voice- he doesn't want to hear Elliot apologise. An apology doesn't make things better but for now...he just wanted Elliot home.]
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His grip tightens on Leo's shoulder briefly, and Elliot winces. It wasn't a voluntary gesture. Elliot brushes it off, though, removing his hand and moving ahead of him.]
Come on. Let's go.
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For now, he'd follow silently after Elliot. It's rather amazing how soaked the both of them are.]
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Even when they get to the house, he takes it upon himself to open the door. Thanks to the kidnapping, he'd been less independent than usual, and it really pissed him off.]
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Independent as Elliot may consider himself to be, Leo still makes a beeline to the nearest storeroom and tosses a dry towel at Elliot's direction-- as much as one can make a beeline when they're trying not to stumble over things in the room from not being able to see. Even with the awkward journey home, it's still his duty to ensure that his charge doesn't get sick otherwise that would usually mean more work.]
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Go change your clothes.
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...except that there's a crash about two minutes after that, followed by a resulting thud.]
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What the hell was that?
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Ouch.
[He winces at the stinging sensation as he pushes himself upwards before feeling his face and noticing that his glasses must have clattered away. A quick glance around confirms that it's nowhere around him; it's probably somewhere in the room. And he'd probably have to be extra careful not to tread on them.
...what a pain.
Either way, he really can't see without drying off his hair and parting it a little more than necessary so with a grumble, he'll grab the towel off the top of the book tower and run it through his hair. How was he supposed to find any new clothes like this? Though for once, his eyes should be more visible than usual--]
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Pause.]
Don't you knock?
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...something's different about them. They're different somehow, aren't they?
He shakes his head. Maybe he was just... imagining it.]
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