333 Posts
EP
EXP
Total
27 Years
Female
Student-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Charlotte Fujioka on Apr 15, 2020 0:17:37 GMT -4
I CAN TAKE IT SHE HAD ALWAYS BEEN A RUNNER. You know, like that old adage? "When the going gets tough, the tough get going." Charlotte had her own addendum to that turn-of-phrase-- they got going because they were too weak to let everyone know that they were just as scared as everyone else.
Charlotte had been running scared since Saito's first full day in the hospital. She'd gone home just long enough to fix the door, then sat outside until sunrise to avoid restlessly dismantling the kitchen appliances. She'd briefly returned to the hospital on the second day, after Saito woke, to bring him changes of clothes, a tablet, a charger.
Hye was there, so was Papa Kang.
So, after a brief hello, Charlie was adrift again.
She walked for most of the day, all over Mustafu-- stopped briefly at the school to let Angie tend to her hands-- told Chimera a little white lie about going to stay at her parent's for the night, or perhaps a few days-- and ended-up going to Tokyo, to some 24-hour internet café. Going home meant telling her parents.
Charlotte just needed space to think.
She thought of nothing conclusive. The run to the hospital played like a loop in her head. Two hours into mindless internet games, she fell asleep.
Things were no better in sleep.
On the third day, Bee Mom texted Charlie to check-in. Again the same little lies. She was fine. She was with her parents. Don't worry about it. Bee Mom, at least somewhat perceptive, insisted that Charlie visit Saito, if she was up to it.
She wasn't. But, begrudgingly, the prawn realized that this wasn't something she could run from. This was her family, thicker than blood, and she was never going to let them go.
She steeled herself for the visit, stopping at a convenience store when she realized it'd been well over a day since she'd eaten. Two packets of jerky and two lemon-lime sodas later, Charlie set-off for the hospital.
It only took one soda, a half-packet of jerky, and a nervous twenty minutes on the bench outside of the hospital to build-up the gumption to go in. It was visiting hours and she knew the way to go, so the prawn went in without saying much.
A quick word at the nurse's station later, and she was at his door. The prawn knocked softly.
"It's me, man. Are you decent?"
Her voice was hoarse. She'd wait for the go-ahead before walking in.
He looked like shit. Anyone would after broiling themselves alive.
"Hey," Charlotte said, mustering a smile. Now she was phlegmy. Great. She cleared her throat, "Well… you still look like shit. How do you feel?"
Perhaps it was an insensitive way to put things, but… that's how she and Saito were. Verbal one-upmanship, funeral humor. Mincing words meant admitting things were bad.
Charlotte didn't want to admit that things were bad.
She grabbed one of the chairs from the wall, turning it backwards so that the back was flush with the bed. She then sat backwards on it, and placed the backpack between her torso and the seat-back.
"I don't know how any of this works… do they have you on a restricted diet or anything?" the prawn asked, lifting her gaze towards her friend. She made the mistake of looking him in the eye.
If only you could run faster, Charlotte. If only you could drive.
Her throat clenched. She dropped her gaze again, and it stayed dropped.
"I brought some snacks, is all," she explained, pretending to rummage through her backpack, "Jerky… lemon-lime soda."
Both of the aforementioned at the top of the shit in her backpack.
"You know, breakfast food."
| quirk: d-rank durability, range, swimming; f-rank regeneration, eyesight, and dexterity |
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104 Posts
1 EP
EXP
Total
16 Years
Male
Student-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Saito Yamada on Apr 19, 2020 20:58:35 GMT -4
[nospaces] [googlefont="Cherry Swash:400,700"][googlefont="Open Sans"][googlefont="Yanone Kaffeesatz"] [attr="class","heart-wrap"] [attr="class","heart-top"] [attr="class","pull-left"] [attr="class","avatar"] [attr="class","over"] Saito Yamada [attr="class","deff"]  [attr="class","pull-right"] [attr="class","imp-links"] [attr="class","link-block"] TRACKER [attr="class","lyric"] “English: [break] Assignment 1 - Poetry.” [attr="class","below"] [attr="class","box"] 700~ [attr="class","box full"] Quoth the raven. [attr="class","heart-content"] [attr="class","content-div"] 48… 49… 50… 51 panels of the ceiling thoroughly counted for the second time today. Saito wondered where in the architecture allowed for a whole extra panel on the otherwise square-ish ceiling. He wanted to triple check. That was a lie. But between the self-pity and the terrible itchiness beneath his skin, what else was there to do. Hye’s handheld console sat on the table on the right of his bed, alongside his phone and a book of old English poetry - homework. The ECG monitor sounded softly, an ever-present reminder of how simple the joy of life was to convert into an annoying beeping sound. A blue bookmark marked the tenth page of a hundred.[break][break]
He slowly debated napping when suddenly there came a-rapping, so softly did the rapping, someone tapping, tapping at his hospital door. “Just some doctor.” he muttered, not knowing why the tapping, not knowing why the r a p p i n g caught his mind in blistered gasping as shadows s t r e t c h e d across the floor and in the whispering wind a-moaning, a bird of ebon flowing and at the foot of his bedside resting, resting and yet Never- [break]Saito’s eyes opened. The dream frayed away like candy floss caught on the wind. A voice. Recognised. Charlotte. A little raspy. His eyes threatened to close again if he didn’t speak. So shut up and say something, boy. “Come on in.” After a few days, he had a pretty good grip of his vocal chords, so he sounded more or less normal. If not just a bit tired.[break][break]
Saito observed Charlie as she wandered on in. Her eyes weren’t human, but they were so human. It was almost smile worthy, but just the smirk he kept was tiring enough. She cleared her throat and threw a clumsy sentence his way as she sat. “Not bad, not bad. Like a lobster the cook didn’t boil long enough. But not bad. No offense if you know any lobsters. Or boiled any.” Saito chuckled. It was weak. None of the usual light or colour came out. He was just some guy in a hospital bed. Bandages shrouded the entirety of his arms and parts of his neck. His hair was almost lighter, but that could’ve been the sterile sun lancing through the windows.[break][break]
Charlie asked about his diet. Must’ve read about how he had to suffer fluids. The IV in his right arm continued that torture. Then their eyes met. Wow. He must’ve really looked like shit. She darted right away. Saito’s eyes stayed for a moment, before closing entirely as he turned his head. “They don’t want me havin’ anythin’ too dehydrating just yet.” When she told him about the jerky and soda, he almost grinned. “But fuck that. I’m hungry.” He sat up on the bed, tugging the IV just enough to remind him it was there. The hospital gown clung to the stronger parts of him, his obliques and stomach, thick threads of powerful muscle remained where skin might’ve charred away. Shreds of discoloured, bare back rested on the slightly dented headboard. “You’re a damn lifesaver.” In more ways than one… Charlotte was, in the end, the one who saved his life. He didn’t know quite how to… uh… transmit the thanks to her. Usually a simple ’Ayy, thanks boo’ worked just fine. But this time? Something felt different. Weird. Like something had broken between himself and his shrimpy friend.[break][break]
Saito held out a gently trembling hand for his bits of jerky, slowly brought them to his mouth and idly chewed. The flavours weren’t great but compared to what he’d been eating the last few days, it was a delight. But still. But still… He felt something rumble in his chest. In his stomach. A familiar, angry heat. It slowed him down - but when he took the soda and chugged the thing in one go, it died out and the creature slept again.[break]
Then he let out a big old burp and rubbed his mouth, sighing with satisfaction.[break]
“Look at me. Eating like a fucking king.” Sarcasm. But appreciative sarcasm. [break]He was smiling at her, after all.
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333 Posts
EP
EXP
Total
27 Years
Female
Student-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Charlotte Fujioka on Apr 28, 2020 21:01:30 GMT -4
I CAN TAKE IT HE DIDN'T HAVE HIS USUAL SPARK. Who would, after what Saito had been through? It was like Saito but dimmed—Saito, but dialed down to level three instead of level ten—offbrand-Saito. Charlotte didn’t like it.
There was still glimmers of him here-and-there. When Charlie asked him how he was, he remarked that he was a “like a lobster the cook didn’t boil long enough”. That did something to ease the tension. Saito laughed weakly, Charlotte laughed in spite of herself. As the resident crustacean-passing mutant, she felt like perhaps the jab should’ve struck closer to home. But it was actually just… funny. Funeral humor, so to speak, except that thankfully no one had died.
“I’m glad we have such a lousy cook,” the prawn retorted. No zing, no meanness—just, “I’m glad you didn’t completely roast yourself from the inside-out,” in slightly less-overt terms. This was the dance that the two of them danced—saying things without saying them, keeping your cards close to your chest.
The prawn procured the jerky and soda as Saito responded, and then immediately regretted grabbing jerky. Wasn’t that the… driest snack food? Besides chips? Here this guy wasn’t supposed to dehydrate himself, and Charlotte had grabbed dried meat. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
When Saito extended his hand, though, the prawn couldn’t say no. Charlotte was weak like that. She broke the seal along the top of the bag, taking three or four strips of jerky, before depositing them into Saito’s outstretched palm.
The same palm that’d brushed her cheek three nights prior. Charlotte cleared her throat.
The prawn undid her surgical mask with practiced ease, stuffing the scrap of fabric into her thigh pocket. She took a few strips of her own, and chewed hungrily. Mm, breakfast of champions.
While her mandibles worked meticulously to tear the jerky in her mouth, Charlotte set the lemon-lime soda close to Saito’s thigh, wordlessly insisting that he at least chase the jerky down with a drink. She then fished her own bottle of soda out and set it on the bed.
When Saito grinned at her and remarked that he was “eating like a king”, the prawn smiled back. This time her eyes didn’t dart away.
“Any time, man,” she said simply. She undid her surgical mask, freeing her mouthparts, and tucked the strip of fabric away in the pocket of her pants. The prawn then set about wrestling with the lid of the soda bottle. After a minor struggle, she broke the seal, and the liquid hissed to life.
It was kind-of wondrous, that the two of them were sitting here, eating shitty snack-food together—miraculous even. He’d had the whole “life flash before his eyes” moment, Charlotte was sure, but he didn’t actually die. That was something.
Another silence stretched between them. Charlie took a swig of soda before resealing her bottle.
“Want some more?” she asked, shaking the bag of jerky slightly.
It was the pregnant kind of silence, the kind that was ripe with words people wanted to say.
Whether or not Saito wanted more, Charlotte would take a few more pieces for herself and tear into them, chewing pensively.
“Do you… remember anything? From the trip to the hospital?”
Charlotte wasn’t the conniving type—she couldn’t beat around the bush, even if she wanted to. She couldn’t seem to free herself from that lucid moment at the street corner, Saito’s hand upon her cheek. The prawn rubbed her muzzle—just thinking about it made her face hot, and that was just… confusing.
She had asked this question with her eyes pointed towards the soda bottle. But having spoken it, she now looked at Saito again, politely curious. Reserved.
| ft. saito yamada quirk: d-rank durability, range, swimming; f-rank regeneration, eyesight, and dexterity |
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1,750 Posts
0 EP
EXP
Total
31 Years
Female
"Blockbuster"
SSSS-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Crimson on Jul 26, 2020 20:20:32 GMT -4
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