(ooc: essentially, the community hasn't taken very kindly to yoite's resistance. as a result, it is now in his notebook. enjoy that. he'll scrawl to you his answers.)
there is a deep silence. there is no scratch of pen tip on paper. there is only the heavier blot of thought. the stretching of ideas. (there is only the gradual bleed of uncertainty. as though peering behind a curtain. a kind of inconsistency. and the words fail to come, as one would think. the words fail to come, as one might suspect.)
he'd never been asked. (and he wanted nothing from others. he needed nothing from others. forever unable to repay the simplest of favors, in return. for unable to cease clinging to one person. to one idea. already, a heavy thought. already -- )
the pen jerks to life. words flow or follow - and the lines are less smooth. less methodical: ]
[ there seems to be only a pause for thought. only a pause for remembering. (and he remembers the murky sound of his own body. the murky sound of familiar voices (yukimi's?). the emptiness of thought. coherency. and he could feel his body, cold. he could feel without feeling the rough trek to somewhere. somewhere. his legs giving out. his vision dotting. dotting. going. and it was a vicious feeling that spilled out. it was a violent feeling that spilled out. his voice gone, his vision gone - his hearing - ) ]
he doesn't want the compliment. he doesn't want to hear the compliment. he doesn't want anything. (doesn't want another thing he can't return. doesn't want another thing he cannot give in return. doesn't -- it's embarrassing.) embarrassing, and he finds the pen tip against paper. having not a single word to write. not wanting to write a single word. not wanting --
but, the point is there. it sits.
a silence. ]
permavid, poor Yuri doesn't know how to do anything else
[ No response...Maybe the guy was busy or something. Huh. He wasn't one to pry, but the whole post interested him. It looked a log of all the attempts to escape the community. Though if it was really that easy, Yuri would have just thrown this book in the river a long time ago. ]
Yeah, this place is not going anywhere. You don't like it?
[ yoite is nothing, but diligent. he has pages upon pages filled with numbers. strange instances. notes. once he recovered - stopped reeling. he had split his days between reaching his goals and reaching kairoushuu's.
time was precious. he'd make the most of trying to rid himself from it. ]
If it can't be rid of, it can be avoided.
[ the words come quickly in a neat hand, though there's a faint tremor. if observant. but the second part is slower. almost after a thoughtful pause: ]
Talking with others often does quiet its insistence. It does seem to enjoy your company very much, as it is putting such effort in connecting with you.
[ there's almost a block in words. there's almost a wall made in the scrawl of letters. a veritable fortress of thought. a shell, shabby and shaken. behind illusion and facade. and the lines smear strangely. almost as though it is written too fast. they fray and feather. a snap remark, in effort to keep out and keep away. ]
I don't enjoy its. [ it might be true, but there's something else there. it doesn't form, but there's a scratched edge to the punctuation. a slashed division. an abrupt cut to source. ] Even if it's insistent, I can make it more difficult to find me.
[ and it comes as a simple, scrawled answer. neat letters and neat lines. a fainter tremor on the punctuation, though it is nearly invisible. though it is nearly without hint or clue. there had been no pause at all in his response - and it shows in the lack of blotting on the page.
but, this one? this one comes a little more slowly: ]
It's disposable. Even if it takes this one, I have others.
I think it comes out in mediums that are used for communication first, but I suspect it wouldn't have a problem with popping up on a wall if it had to. This thing is persistent.
[ there's a careful consideration hidden behind the steady growth of an inkblot. the steady growth of wider circumference. the way he regards the sharper strokes that bleed back to him. like words, repeated. (a similar feeling, but it buys no ground with him. just mutuality.)
it buys not much behind shell and shield, but his hand eventually moves. eventually comes to form a short sentence. a short response. a shorter agreement. (and enough carries with it, that he need not mince words. need not grant much more than the partial print of a worn glove. the smudging of neat lines.) ]
no subject
no subject
but - the words start, and they're neat. quick: ]
I don't want to talk to it.
[ that's an answer, right? ]
no subject
no subject
there is a deep silence. there is no scratch of pen tip on paper. there is only the heavier blot of thought. the stretching of ideas. (there is only the gradual bleed of uncertainty. as though peering behind a curtain. a kind of inconsistency. and the words fail to come, as one would think. the words fail to come, as one might suspect.)
he'd never been asked. (and he wanted nothing from others. he needed nothing from others. forever unable to repay the simplest of favors, in return. for unable to cease clinging to one person. to one idea. already, a heavy thought. already -- )
the pen jerks to life. words flow or follow - and the lines are less smooth. less methodical: ]
It doesn't matter.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
no subject
[ but, there's a small pause in his writing. a half-tap. and it leaves a strange line on the page. ]
Even if it's stubborn, I'll find new ways.
no subject
no subject
No.
[ yes. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
[ video ]
( handwritten forever(?). )
he doesn't want the compliment. he doesn't want to hear the compliment. he doesn't want anything. (doesn't want another thing he can't return. doesn't want another thing he cannot give in return. doesn't -- it's embarrassing.) embarrassing, and he finds the pen tip against paper. having not a single word to write. not wanting to write a single word. not wanting --
but, the point is there. it sits.
a silence. ]
permavid, poor Yuri doesn't know how to do anything else
Yeah, this place is not going anywhere. You don't like it?
no subject
time was precious. he'd make the most of trying to rid himself from it. ]
If it can't be rid of, it can be avoided.
[ the words come quickly in a neat hand, though there's a faint tremor. if observant. but the second part is slower. almost after a thoughtful pause: ]
... I don't want to talk to it.
[ that's an answer, right. ]
(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
( perma... written )
but the words come, quickly and neatly. an illusion of solidity: ]
It's still annoying.
[ don't be kind to me. please. ]
Since escaping it won't work, I'll settle on making it quieter.
no subject
Talking with others often does quiet its insistence. It does seem to enjoy your company very much, as it is putting such effort in connecting with you.
no subject
I don't enjoy its. [ it might be true, but there's something else there. it doesn't form, but there's a scratched edge to the punctuation. a slashed division. an abrupt cut to source. ] Even if it's insistent, I can make it more difficult to find me.
(no subject)
no subject
( perma... written )
it's short. abrupt: ]
A person who would make a small nuisance their demon doesn't have one.
no subject
no subject
[Don't mind Kefka doing science over here.]
no subject
[ and it comes as a simple, scrawled answer. neat letters and neat lines. a fainter tremor on the punctuation, though it is nearly invisible. though it is nearly without hint or clue. there had been no pause at all in his response - and it shows in the lack of blotting on the page.
but, this one? this one comes a little more slowly: ]
It's disposable. Even if it takes this one, I have others.
no subject
I think it comes out in mediums that are used for communication first, but I suspect it wouldn't have a problem with popping up on a wall if it had to. This thing is persistent.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
Cease communication. I have no interest in this network any longer.
[someone is cranky about waking up again]
no subject
it buys not much behind shell and shield, but his hand eventually moves. eventually comes to form a short sentence. a short response. a shorter agreement. (and enough carries with it, that he need not mince words. need not grant much more than the partial print of a worn glove. the smudging of neat lines.) ]
Me neither.
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)