Proxy One (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theosen) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sirenspull_logs2012-03-04 10:46 pm
theosen) wrote in sirenspull_logs2012-03-04 10:46 pm
Entry tags:
closed.
Who: Proxy the Elder (theosen) and Proxy the Younger (awakenings)
When: March 4th, after the evening sirens.
Where: Out in the darkness.
Summary: A meeting of Romdeau's gods amidst the decay of fallen night.
Warnings: Proxy One.
[ The hours from dawn til dusk whittle away with what seems to be excessive slowness. Ironic, considering his longevity, but there's so much he has yet to learn of this world that may be some past of his own.
He does not sleep, does not rest -- there's too much on his mind for him to truly be at ease. Instead, he stretches forth his senses, detecting what he can from the lightlessness of his haven.
Finally, the sirens sound, and the stench of decay returns. Rising up in silence, he disappears into the night. A dark wraith painted all in red, he resumes his exploration from the height of the tallest towers. He does not wish to be seen and so he is not, a whisper of darkness subject to nature's whim.
It's only towards the early morning hours that he stops, perching himself on the roof of an abandoned skyscraper. He does not expect her to come; in fact, he would much prefer if she did not. He waits nonetheless, though, to see if she will find him. ]
theosen) and Proxy the Younger (awakenings)When: March 4th, after the evening sirens.
Where: Out in the darkness.
Summary: A meeting of Romdeau's gods amidst the decay of fallen night.
Warnings: Proxy One.
[ The hours from dawn til dusk whittle away with what seems to be excessive slowness. Ironic, considering his longevity, but there's so much he has yet to learn of this world that may be some past of his own.
He does not sleep, does not rest -- there's too much on his mind for him to truly be at ease. Instead, he stretches forth his senses, detecting what he can from the lightlessness of his haven.
Finally, the sirens sound, and the stench of decay returns. Rising up in silence, he disappears into the night. A dark wraith painted all in red, he resumes his exploration from the height of the tallest towers. He does not wish to be seen and so he is not, a whisper of darkness subject to nature's whim.
It's only towards the early morning hours that he stops, perching himself on the roof of an abandoned skyscraper. He does not expect her to come; in fact, he would much prefer if she did not. He waits nonetheless, though, to see if she will find him. ]
no worries! /is le slow
It's no secret to her or to him that both of them know exactly what she is. What she's becoming.
And thus, the mask returns, the indifference of solitude settling over him once again.
Regardless of how this changes things, he'll not show her how he feels. ]
Perhaps.
[ Not even the proxies, after all, are invulnerable to death. ]
no subject
She suddenly feels very lost without Vincent. And she realizes that he must feel very displaced without him too. He is their only connection.
Re-l finds that she's lost some of her steam in this understanding, and she shakes her head once.]
There's no 'perhaps' about it. People have tried.
[And that's all she'll say about the few attempts on her life here. There's more important things to discuss, which is why she pulls out her handgun, the one with the FP shells in it. She releases the clip and holds it up for him to see and to not feel threatened by.]
no subject
And so, he does not react, only looks when she holds out the shells. He knows what they are, recognizes them quite well, but he doesn't actually feel threatened. He knows she won't shoot, not here, not now, and even if she tried, he's old, he's experienced, and simply possessing the weapon that can destroy him in no way guarantees success.
No, he's not afraid. He would be a poor agent of death indeed if he feared the inevitable. He simply doesn't care for the responsibility -- to her, or any of the others.
He's had enough. ]
The worst is yet to come.
no subject
She wishes the stars and moon were more visible. It'd make the atmosphere between them much less imposing, especially amidst to long bouts of silence.
Re-l looks at him once he speaks.]
For this world, you mean?
[That this world will continue to rot and decay, just as theirs did?]
no subject
She looks at him, and after a moment, he finally looks at her. ]
For you.
no subject
Rather, there's something wary in her eyes, something cautious and uncertain. And even with that uncertainty, there is still curiosity and her innate drive to know everything:]
How bad is it going to be?
no subject
He can only guess how long she has until what humanity remains inevitably forsakes her entirely. ]
What peace is there for those who live outside of time?
no subject
If she continues as a Proxy, one who can do nothing but live as others die around her, then what point is there?
She keeps her emotions hidden. Inside, she feel something twist.]
I suspect I'll have to make my own peace somehow.
no subject
To be a proxy is suffering.
[ He says it without emotion or rancor. To him, it is a fact -- the terrible truth and nothing more. ]
If you can live with that knowledge and endure, perhaps you will find it.
no subject
[Humans suffer just as much as Proxies and other immortals do. The only difference lies in the lengths of their life spans.
Even so, she understands what he's telling her at the very least.
So long as she can find a place to belong, someplace to call her own, and to exist without falling into despair, then maybe there's some hope yet. But until that day, this is all she has.]
I intend to, one way or another.
[The truth, as always.]