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Entry tags:
please, anyone ( closed. )
Who: zero (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
offtune) & archer (fakers)
What: how to be a master
When: some time after this mess
Where: house #61
Warning(s): weird drakengard and fate lore i guess; blood and mentions of violence
[ it's hard to miss the new insignia on the back of her hand. not like it itches, or looks weird, or calls for attention or anything, but it's still distracting as hell. zero finds herself staring at it often times, rubbing idly at it as though it's washable ink. it doesn't come off, but that doesn't stop her from scrubbing at it until her skin's raw when she bathes.
zero knows she should probably talk to archer about it. while that man's no where to be seen, she feels him everywhere. doesn't avoid him so much as she simply doesn't feel like seeing him yet, not entirely ready to face the reality of whatever the hell this marking means. and honestly, she doesn't know where to begin; tells herself that she didn't make a regrettable decision, but maybe, just maybe, it was a rash one. all for what, to save a guy she barely even knows?
despite this, she feels some inexplicable relief— with the ability to sensing his whereabouts, she knows that at least he's alive and (presumably) well.
there is a cost, archer told her. what he meant by that, she's yet to know, but on the second night of radio silence, she finally manages to contact him. a2 isn't home, which makes house 61 ideal for them to meet.
the door is unlocked for archer to open when he arrives— in fact, it's even slightly ajar. she'd told him as much over the phone. and as it turns out, it's a good thing that she did because of a minor accident. zero's seated on the kitchen counter, knife in her good hand. she's attempting to pull a shard of broken glass from the stub of her severed arm. he probably wouldn't need to ask; the story's right there in the scene: the remains of a cup is shattered across the tile, freshly destroyed from the way it still gleams under the light. she has scratches all up her arms from slipping, but it's not as bad as the glass that had plunged deep in her arm.
the prosthetic part has already been removed and dropped by her feet. with the sharp of the knife in the ideal position to nudge the piece out, she holds it place by clenching her teeth around the handle, then uses her now free hand to remove it. zero sighs in relief when it's gone, feeling instantly better. there are probably more on her person, but taking care of the biggest pain in the ass one was priority. lacking better items to clean the wound, she wraps it haphazardly with toilet paper. it seeps the blood almost immediately, but she continues to coil the arm in it anyway. her healing powers aren't as great as they used to be. ]
Glad you could make it. [ said almost too coolly for what she's doing (or have done), but she sets aside the knife and exhales before moving off the counter, dropping to the floor with a thump. before long, she's stepping toward the sofas, gesturing archer over.
no, she's not going to take care of the mess right now, don't even ask. but anyway, they both know why he's here, so she'll keep it short and sweet as she sits on the cushions: ] Just give me the abridged version.
offtune) & archer (fakers) What: how to be a master
When: some time after this mess
Where: house #61
Warning(s): weird drakengard and fate lore i guess; blood and mentions of violence
[ it's hard to miss the new insignia on the back of her hand. not like it itches, or looks weird, or calls for attention or anything, but it's still distracting as hell. zero finds herself staring at it often times, rubbing idly at it as though it's washable ink. it doesn't come off, but that doesn't stop her from scrubbing at it until her skin's raw when she bathes.
zero knows she should probably talk to archer about it. while that man's no where to be seen, she feels him everywhere. doesn't avoid him so much as she simply doesn't feel like seeing him yet, not entirely ready to face the reality of whatever the hell this marking means. and honestly, she doesn't know where to begin; tells herself that she didn't make a regrettable decision, but maybe, just maybe, it was a rash one. all for what, to save a guy she barely even knows?
despite this, she feels some inexplicable relief— with the ability to sensing his whereabouts, she knows that at least he's alive and (presumably) well.
there is a cost, archer told her. what he meant by that, she's yet to know, but on the second night of radio silence, she finally manages to contact him. a2 isn't home, which makes house 61 ideal for them to meet.
the door is unlocked for archer to open when he arrives— in fact, it's even slightly ajar. she'd told him as much over the phone. and as it turns out, it's a good thing that she did because of a minor accident. zero's seated on the kitchen counter, knife in her good hand. she's attempting to pull a shard of broken glass from the stub of her severed arm. he probably wouldn't need to ask; the story's right there in the scene: the remains of a cup is shattered across the tile, freshly destroyed from the way it still gleams under the light. she has scratches all up her arms from slipping, but it's not as bad as the glass that had plunged deep in her arm.
the prosthetic part has already been removed and dropped by her feet. with the sharp of the knife in the ideal position to nudge the piece out, she holds it place by clenching her teeth around the handle, then uses her now free hand to remove it. zero sighs in relief when it's gone, feeling instantly better. there are probably more on her person, but taking care of the biggest pain in the ass one was priority. lacking better items to clean the wound, she wraps it haphazardly with toilet paper. it seeps the blood almost immediately, but she continues to coil the arm in it anyway. her healing powers aren't as great as they used to be. ]
Glad you could make it. [ said almost too coolly for what she's doing (or have done), but she sets aside the knife and exhales before moving off the counter, dropping to the floor with a thump. before long, she's stepping toward the sofas, gesturing archer over.
no, she's not going to take care of the mess right now, don't even ask. but anyway, they both know why he's here, so she'll keep it short and sweet as she sits on the cushions: ] Just give me the abridged version.