sirenspull_logs | I know who I was when I got up this morning...

Entry tags:

I know who I was when I got up this morning...

Who: Gilbert Nightray, Xerxes Break, Phancyhive denizens
When: Saturday, August 4
Where: Phantomhive-Trancy Estate
Summary: Bodyswap shenanigans
Warnings: None

BANG! BANG! BANG!

[ Having paid attention to the network and the news over the past few weeks, as well as directly witnessing Ahiru's experiences, Xerxes Break wasn't completely surprised to awaken this morning in a different body. ]

BANG! BANGBANG!

[ Tch! Gilbert's hands are so enormous. Break adored them, at first; but how does one actually accomplish anything with such fat fingers? Getting bullets properly loaded into their chambers is an unexpected challenge. ]

BANG! BANG!

[ Gilbert's height feels awkward; he's clumsy and slow. Yet Break can feel a sense of vigor that he hasn't experienced in years. He'd forgotten what it felt like. Youth. Health. Even taking a deep breath is a pleasure (despite Gilbert's idiotic habit of poisoning himself with cigarettes).

Oh. And… binocular vision. Yes, that.

Which is why Break is outside the Phantomhive-Trancy estate, at 7 o' clock in the morning, shooting his name (Gilbert's name, actually!) into the side of a garden retaining wall. Because he can. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Lady Sharon?

[He'd always known that Break was attached to her, but this is a surprisingly candid thing to hear. That's going to happen a lot tonight, isn't it...]

N-no, she hasn't left you at all! She's just not here right now, but...

You're right.

I'll... I'll p-probably leave her, first.

[ Death is what he deserves. It's what he's told himself, as he feels his life trickling away, day by day. But now, feeling the quickness of health, and knowing it's only temporary...

He feels lonely. ]

Hey.

[He sits back a little, sightlessly stares towards his superior. How many times has he heard him say that so nonchalantly? How much more time that he doesn't believe he has. Without the strain of the Abyss here, no doubt he would have even more borrowed time, but...

In this body, Gil can also feel how heavy that strain really is. If this is what Break believes he deserves, then he has to wonder just what sort of burden he's truly been living with all these years. knowing the past and feeling the past were two completely different things.]

If you think that she'd give you up so easily...then you really are an idiot.

Hunh~?

Ha~! Hahahahaha~! Ha! Ha! Ha!

[ The drunken giggles are back! ]

That sounds...

That sounds like something Reim would tell me...

[ Aaaaaaaaaaaand now he's sobbing again. Strong work, Gilbert! ]

[UUUGGGGH god is this what he sounds like? No wonder Oz opts to hit him or mock him most of the time rather than put up with it!

Okay, patting his back again. Shhh.]

This is really painful to listen to, you know...

[ He tries to curl himself up, into a ball. It doesn't work; his body isn't suited for it. Instead, he overbalances and topples sideways, into his own lap. Eventually his weeping slows. He hiccups and sniffs. ]

What will happen, I wonder. To Gil?

[ After hearing his own voice all evening, perhaps he has drunkenly forgotten who he's talking to? Perhaps he believes he really is talking to himself... ]

[He cringes as Break crawls up into his lap, utterly confused and partially terrified. What's the protocol here?! Will Break be angry at him later if he ignores him? Or would he be more angry if he actually went out of his way to console him?

Either way he's probably going to end up getting hit, so maybe it doesn't matter in the end...

He sighs, lets his shoulders slump forward, and moves a hand up to where he believes Break's shoulder to be. Luckily, he only has to let his fingers dance across part of his arm before finally resting in what he hopes is a safe spot that won't offend his boss too badly.]

Hm? What do you mean?

[ Break seems to relax, apparently allowing himself to be consoled. Indeed, he reaches up and folds his own hand into Gilbert's.

--if he were less drunk, it would irritate him how tiny and small his hand feels compared to Gilbert's. ]

I think... he might... might be... a...

[ He doesn't finish the sentence. His breathing has slowed; it's regular and deep. He is snoring. ]

[Ugh, he doesn't expect him to squeeze his hand back, does he? And wow, his hands really do feel huge compared to Break's. Honestly, he's not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing at this point, but it's definitely worth being self-conscious of later. Especially since his hand does feel...nice?

Ugh, no, he can't even.

When it becomes apparent that Break doesn't plan on finishing that sentence, Gil sits up a little straighter and turns his blind-attention down towards him.]

A what? Hey, don't fall asleep here! [Shake, shake!]

[ Break clings more tightly to his own hand, perhaps to stabilize himself against the shaking. ]

He's a...

[ Half-asleep, half-passed out, very drunken giggling. ]

...useless fool~♥

[Break's face isn't really suited for Gil's Patented Lineface, but he still gives him the best one that he's got given the circumstances.]

I walked into that...

[Okay, enough is enough. He shakes the man's shoulder again.]

Come on, you need to go to bed and I can't carry you like this. Don't sleep yet!

[ brb drooling on you ]

ZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

[Fuck

everything

UGH.

With an angry groan, he falls back against the back of the couch and, for once since this entire thing started, thanks this body for being blind. Because seeing himself drunk, red-faced and cheeks dampened with tears would make him want to cry all over again.

So he has two options. He can deal with this until Break finally wakes up or he can shove his body onto the ground and let him sleep there for the rest of the night. But then, he's the one who will have to ruin with whatever bruises are left behind later...

Right. So we're back to fuck everything.]

You owe me...so much for this...

[Time to Deal With It.]

[ At dawn, early Monday morning, Break opens his eyes. He can't see a thing.

He breathes in - and coughs, as if that will clear his lungs. It doesn't. Everything hurts. Everything always hurts, but it hurts now in new and unexpected ways. His head, his elbows, his back, his--

Well. His legs don't hurt. That's something, at least. Hang on - he can't feel them at all. They're asleep. He tries to move, but something is pinning him in place. He reaches down. There's something - no, someone in his lap. His fingers explore, finding a seaweedy mop of hair, before settling on this someone's broad shoulder.

Because they are in their own bodies once more, Break has no compunction about...

SHOVE! ]

[The world is spinning long before Gilbert has a chance to open his eyes. The world is warm, too. So warm, but...not comfortable. At all. It's sharp and is moving way too fast and there's definitely something wrapped around his head, like a hat that's too small and trying to choke him through his skull.

And then suddenly the ground falls out from underneath of him and he's falling. He doesn't have a chance to wonder just how long gravity will fail him, because it isn't very long at all! There's the floor, and here's Gilbert's hungover face colliding with it at full speed and slow motion all at once. He gasps in and coughs loudly, but it's a normal cough this time, where his chest doesn't feel like it's trapped in cotton with every breath. But when he opens his eyes, they're blurry and his head still feels like there's something tightened around it. Not to mention the terrible taste in his mouth.]

Wha...wha's happeni'g?

[Groooooooan.]

My head...

[ Gilbert is groaning; all's right with the world.

Break knew it was going to end. He'd hoped it might last a little longer - and hated himself for hoping. Perhaps this was for the best. The longer he'd lived in Gilbert's body, the more he would have gotten used to it: that giddy feeling of light and health. Everything was so easy. He might have started to believe in a future, spinning temptingly out before him.

Still, he'd had a wonderful weekend. Watching cartoons and learning to drive. He'd even gotten drunk, something he'd always secretly wanted to do. That warm, cozy, fuzzy feeling; the way it had lightened his heart and loosened his tongue and--

Oh.

Oh fuck. Fuck EVERYTHING! ]

Forget about it, just go back to sleep!

[ He's just going to get up and go back to his room and put on his pajamas and hide under a blanket and never come out and this is a very fine plan, except...

His legs, being still asleep, don't hold him. One step and he collapses. ]

[Sleep? Was he asleep? No, he must have been, even though it feels like he hasn't slept at all! Or if he has, he's been sleeping with a bookcase on top of his head. Another groan and he rolls over onto his back, sitting up on his elbows. It's slowly coming back now, the memories of yesterday, the fact that he'd been trapped in Break's body and hadn't been able to see or tend to Oz or breathe or--

Oh, wait. He can see. It's fuzzy still and the light is making his head hurt even worse, but he can see. Carefully, he raises one hand in front of his eyes, tries his best to focus on it.

And it's his own hand.

If he concentrates hard enough, he can even feel Raven, safe and sound where he belongs.

If he didn't feel like vomiting, he might jump up and do a little dance, but as it is, he'll simply blink his stinging eyes and turn to try and figure out where that collapsing noise came from.]

H-hey, slow down! Ow! What - what did you do to me?!

[ While Gilbert is busy trying to find his ass with both hands, Break is going to just drag himself off with his arms. Because who needs legs, he's certainly strong enough!

Except... it's inefficient. It's too much work. It requires air. He's panting; he has to stop.

When Break fights, it's with minimal effort, he's all lightness and grace. He can move so quickly because he hardly moves at all. A steel-strong parry and then a deadly slash. He clenches his fist.

At which point he realizes -- oh FUCK FUCK FUCK EVERYTHING! ]

Nothing, compared to what I'm going to do! WHERE'S MY SWORD?

[ Without his sword, he feels naked. Also - in its sheath, it doubles as a walking stick. It helps him get around; without it, he'll have to feel his way.

And now the feeling is coming back to his legs. Pins and needles. Ow. ]

Ugh, stop yelling!

[He sits up, which is a mistake. The room is spinning, and whatever Break ate for dinner last night is threatening to come back up. He really has no interest at all in what Break had for dinner, so he lowers himself back onto the ground and grasps the side of his head with both hands to keep himself from falling off the edge of the earth.]

What the hell happened?!

[ He resists the urge to swat Gilbert's head. He's strong enough to make it hurt; but such a blow would damage his own delicate fingers, and what's the point of that? ]

Useless!

[ On the other hand, Gilbert's uselessness is... an opportunity. He hasn't realized yet, hasn't begun to process what happened last night. He'll just slip away now; he can make it as far as his room. And then he'll ask that quiet servant - Hannah, that's her name - to look for his sword. She's efficient; she can keep secrets, surely.

He'll just stand up, and -- ]

GAH!

[ He's got feeling in his legs, again. Not a good thing! ]

Did you walk into everything?

A-aaah, quieter...

[He tries to sit up again, slower this time. He makes it all the way up, but ends up having to lean over to grab hold of the edge of the couch so that he can rest his spinning head on his arm. Muffled into his (smelly) sleeve:]

What about you?! I told you to stop drinking! Ugh, my head...!

[ He's... he's remembered the drinking! Which means he's about to remember what came after the drinking!

It's no use. He'd wanted to hang onto this priceless piece of information until the perfect moment. But - needs must. ]

Yes, yes. Stop whining, you'll recover.

[ The morning light is strong enough in the room that he can perceive outlines of the larger pieces of furniture, and the doorway. He starts to walk out; but at the threshold, he glances over his shoulder. ]

Oh, byyyyyy the way. Do you remember Lady Hattie? I think you've met her once or twice before. Well...

She proposed to you! ♥

[Closing his eyes hurts, keeping them open hurts. It's hard to focus on the hazy memories of last night with a hangover fogging it all up, but it'll all come back to him in time. Lots of time. Time that might be spent hunched over a toilet at this rate.

He swallows back another nauseous wave of dizziness and rubs at his temples, fighting to remember where he's heard that name before. Lady Hattie...wasn't that the girl that Vincent had seen? He'd warned his brother about the dangers of modern women, and he'd explained that she was from a time that may have been even earlier than their own, as though that made things better.]

Proposed...I see... [He rubs his fingers into his head a little harder. Even talking is difficult, there's no way that he can--]

I know who I was when I got up this morning...

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/3

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

1/3

2/3

3/3

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)