Yukio Okumura (age 7) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tinyprotector) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
castle_perrault2016-11-25 09:05 pm
tinyprotector) wrote in castle_perrault2016-11-25 09:05 pm
Entry tags:
[backdated to like end of september] he's the kid with the story no one would believe
Yukio breaks his glasses a lot.
This pair has a lens that's near shattered. Spiderweb cracks crawl out from the corner of the lens all the way to the nosepiece. He can barely see out of that side.
But that's fine. Yukio wasn't supposed to be seeing anything anyways. Not with the gash over his chest, the same lines spreading from his glasses spreading out over his abdomen. He can still see the blood and the tears in the fabric. If he closes his eyes, he can still see the claws. But there's nothing left except a nasty, but closed, scar.
He's not sure what room he's woken up in. Something made of stone, like the rest. Some room he's never going to leave. He'll just stay here until something kills him again. Another monster. Another demon.
He curls up on his side to bury his face in his hands.
Eventually, when his stomach bothers him enough, he'll realize he needs to at least eat. No point starving himself. Even if it'll make him less of a meal for the creatures here, he's not hopeless enough to contemplate suicide.
It's when he's rooting through the cupboards that he notices the knives. Sharp steel. They look like they're brand new, despite being in this ancient castle. They remind him of the ones Rin borrowed to cook, ones Shiro insisted on watching Rin use the first few times.
Hold the blade away, Rin. That's it. You have to be careful with something sharp like this. You could take an eye out. And we've made more than enough trips to the hospital lately, eh?
Before Yukio's realized it, the blade is in his hands. It feels... good. To touch something. He feels a bit more certain this is actually real. That he's not just in some twisted afterlife, some hell worse than any Bible stories could have warned him about.
It feels good to have a weapon.
It's not a gun, true. But Father said an exorcist has to adapt to the situation at hand.
He tried to trust this place wasn't Gehenna. It got him... nearly killed. Did he die? He can't be sure in this twisted place. All he knows now is that there's no point in trusting anymore.
This pair has a lens that's near shattered. Spiderweb cracks crawl out from the corner of the lens all the way to the nosepiece. He can barely see out of that side.
But that's fine. Yukio wasn't supposed to be seeing anything anyways. Not with the gash over his chest, the same lines spreading from his glasses spreading out over his abdomen. He can still see the blood and the tears in the fabric. If he closes his eyes, he can still see the claws. But there's nothing left except a nasty, but closed, scar.
He's not sure what room he's woken up in. Something made of stone, like the rest. Some room he's never going to leave. He'll just stay here until something kills him again. Another monster. Another demon.
He curls up on his side to bury his face in his hands.
Eventually, when his stomach bothers him enough, he'll realize he needs to at least eat. No point starving himself. Even if it'll make him less of a meal for the creatures here, he's not hopeless enough to contemplate suicide.
It's when he's rooting through the cupboards that he notices the knives. Sharp steel. They look like they're brand new, despite being in this ancient castle. They remind him of the ones Rin borrowed to cook, ones Shiro insisted on watching Rin use the first few times.
Hold the blade away, Rin. That's it. You have to be careful with something sharp like this. You could take an eye out. And we've made more than enough trips to the hospital lately, eh?
Before Yukio's realized it, the blade is in his hands. It feels... good. To touch something. He feels a bit more certain this is actually real. That he's not just in some twisted afterlife, some hell worse than any Bible stories could have warned him about.
It feels good to have a weapon.
It's not a gun, true. But Father said an exorcist has to adapt to the situation at hand.
He tried to trust this place wasn't Gehenna. It got him... nearly killed. Did he die? He can't be sure in this twisted place. All he knows now is that there's no point in trusting anymore.
no subject
"...did the monster look...like a crocodile?"
no subject
He was kind of focused on trying to get away, but that does match with the features he remembers.
no subject
"You got--you got--Killer Croc got you?"
...but they need to defend their friends. Even with their mouth covered in horror, they need to get in more words. "I--h-he's not a monster, he's--not, he's something else."
no subject
“…He looked like a monster. I don’t know anymore. I just…” Tears are streaming from his eyes now. “I don’t want to be hurt anymore.”