[ Dimitri, meanwhile, is fending off the cold rains with some tea. He stops short of stumbling over Ash on the steps as he comes by, but he does bump into him. ]
[ his coffee nearly sloshes over the side and for a moment ash looks a littttttle bit ticked off, but it doesn't last. the coffee is safe.
he opens his mouth to say something and---
There's fear, and pain and confusion that lasts for a good few minutes as awareness slowly filters back into Ash's mind. There's panic too, slowly creeping up from his stomach, and it's overwhelming, making it hard to breathe.
There's a smell as well - smokey, and ashy. Like something's been burning. A lot of things have been burning. It's overwhelming, a mix of burnt wood and -- something else. Sweet, like decay and overwhelming like burnt... something else. Ash starts to scrabble to his feet, through broken wood and shattered pieces of what was once a home. From the first person point of view Dimitri's seeing, Ash's hands look much smaller than they are normally. They're child's hands, not the older ones he has now.
Wherever Ash was had been beautiful ones. Surrounded by trees, and beautiful views of nature. Small and quaint stone buildings, in an equally small and quaint village. Or... it was, at some point.
It doesn't look that way anymore. ]
...
[ wow. thanks. he hates it. ]
Edited (MY HTML x2) 2020-07-01 18:23 (UTC)
i'll bust out remire too later but i need this image parallel
[ It's a painful moment, where the ash and smoke curl in the wind, the fear and dread of coming upon something that was once yours, now gone, taken in such a terrible way. It isn't his history, but his heart aches in that moment as though it might be.
And it almost is. There's a flash of memory, the heat continuing from one scene to another, smoke holding the unmistakable stench of burning hair, burning copper, burning blood. Ahead, there is the wet noise of a sword meeting flesh, and—
—it ends before it can reveal much more than that, but Dimitri draws away quickly when he's pulled back into the present, sucking in the fresh, clear air of camp. ]
Ash...
[ The rain still pours out ahead of them. No smoldering flames. No wreckage, no disaster. Dimitri's voice comes out shaky, distant, like he scarcely realizes he's asking at all. ]
For a moment, he doesn't answer, collecting himself. It's hard to shake these things, memory blending with reality, but he eventually responds, quiet. ]
Yes and no.
[ He recognizes the dodged question, but he doesn't have a problem admitting his own truths. ]
It was our retinue—we were crossing the border into a neighboring country for diplomatic purposes. We were far from the castle, but I would say the people on that journey were home to me.
[ nah his parents sure as hell died in all that fire and jaeger led murder ]
...
[ he shrugs. ]
Not really sure who to put the blame on. You could say my shit's their fault for not looking hard enough, but it ain't like my life was bad after they legged it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
voidbreaker) wrote2020-07-01 12:42 am
WEEK 3; tuesday?
no subject
Ah, pardon me, Ash—
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he opens his mouth to say something and---
There's fear, and pain and confusion that lasts for a good few minutes as awareness slowly filters back into Ash's mind. There's panic too, slowly creeping up from his stomach, and it's overwhelming, making it hard to breathe.
There's a smell as well - smokey, and ashy. Like something's been burning. A lot of things have been burning. It's overwhelming, a mix of burnt wood and -- something else. Sweet, like decay and overwhelming like burnt... something else. Ash starts to scrabble to his feet, through broken wood and shattered pieces of what was once a home. From the first person point of view Dimitri's seeing, Ash's hands look much smaller than they are normally. They're child's hands, not the older ones he has now.
Wherever Ash was had been beautiful ones. Surrounded by trees, and beautiful views of nature. Small and quaint stone buildings, in an equally small and quaint village. Or... it was, at some point.
It doesn't look that way anymore. ]
...
[ wow. thanks. he hates it. ]
i'll bust out remire too later but i need this image parallel
And it almost is. There's a flash of memory, the heat continuing from one scene to another, smoke holding the unmistakable stench of burning hair, burning copper, burning blood. Ahead, there is the wet noise of a sword meeting flesh, and—
—it ends before it can reveal much more than that, but Dimitri draws away quickly when he's pulled back into the present, sucking in the fresh, clear air of camp. ]
Ash...
[ The rain still pours out ahead of them. No smoldering flames. No wreckage, no disaster. Dimitri's voice comes out shaky, distant, like he scarcely realizes he's asking at all. ]
Was that your home—?
no subject
and then he's left blinking, staring at the same scenery he'd seen only a moment before all of this started. ]
... Was that yours?
[ he's not answering that so quickly. ]
no subject
For a moment, he doesn't answer, collecting himself. It's hard to shake these things, memory blending with reality, but he eventually responds, quiet. ]
Yes and no.
[ He recognizes the dodged question, but he doesn't have a problem admitting his own truths. ]
It was our retinue—we were crossing the border into a neighboring country for diplomatic purposes. We were far from the castle, but I would say the people on that journey were home to me.
no subject
...
[ hm. ]
They all died?
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[ still an honest answer, but a little more awkward this time. ]
I'm sorry you had to witness such a thing. I realize no one wants to be close to such a story—I'll leave, if you prefer.
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[ c'mon dimitri. ]
Either you're moving on anyway or not, but don't do it on my account.
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[ well. he doesn't have much means to argue against that. he sticks around. ]
...It's the sort of thing that often changes people's perception of you. [ ash likely knows that. ]
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You think I should be treating you differently because life's a bitch?
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No, I don't think you should. I won't.
[ it's not that he thinks it's fair—it's just how things tend to be.
anyway, he reformats the question and hands it back. ]
...Were you the only survivor as well?
no subject
No. Although the other two just left me for dead, so I guess it's more complicated than just "yes" or "no".
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How awful.
[ it's bad enough that he hadn't even considered it. ]
Why wouldn't they take you with them...?
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Not like I can hop over and ask them. No idea where either of them ended up, and I probably wouldn't recognise them even if I did.
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[ please don't say they're your parents. ]
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...
[ he shrugs. ]
Not really sure who to put the blame on. You could say my shit's their fault for not looking hard enough, but it ain't like my life was bad after they legged it.
no subject
Is that so...
[ hm. ]
I'm glad you were able to find some respite afterward, at least.
no subject
...
You struggling on that front?