GILBERT. (
alostraven) wrote in
capeandcowllogs2012-10-03 03:50 am
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Entry tags:
“I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, sir,”
WHO: GIL and JESSE
WHERE: around the MAC?
WHEN: morning
WARNINGS: none but will edit if needed
SUMMARY: role reversals, heh.
FORMAT: tagger's choice
Gil had awoken to a horrible ache in his arm. The sort of pain that immediately put him in a state of panic when the dull ache didn't subside. He woke up screaming and half-expected Oz or one of the servants of the mansion to come bursting through his door. Perhaps Master Oscar.
But nobody came and it took him a minute to realize why.
He stood in some bare bedroom that was clearly not his. Through his hot tears, he saw some sort of wardrobe, incredibly plain curtains and bed sheets, and a gun on a small table beside the bed. Fear seized him and he yelled for Oz but again, no reply.
Although it hurt to move he fled the room. He couldn't stop shaking as he made his way from one strange room to another, loudly calling for Oz over and over. Each time he grew more anxious.
Who knew how he had managed to get out of the MAC, but he did. He didn't get very far however, collapsing on the grass nearby and taking the moment to catch his breath. He gripped the arm that hurt the most, which he could barely move. He didn't remember injuring it.
He didn't have much time to contemplate it. Strange and loud noises erupted from everywhere. He looked up to see dozens-- maybe one hundred people walking around wherever he was. There were large and shiny vehicles rolling past and nobody batted an eyelash at it. They were noisy and inside them, Gil could see people... sitting? The buildings around him were as high as trees. Maybe mountains.
Gil couldn't breathe. He felt dizzy and sick, and on the verge of fainting. It was too vivid to be some bizarre nightmare. Too noisy and too bright.
WHERE: around the MAC?
WHEN: morning
WARNINGS: none but will edit if needed
SUMMARY: role reversals, heh.
FORMAT: tagger's choice
Gil had awoken to a horrible ache in his arm. The sort of pain that immediately put him in a state of panic when the dull ache didn't subside. He woke up screaming and half-expected Oz or one of the servants of the mansion to come bursting through his door. Perhaps Master Oscar.
But nobody came and it took him a minute to realize why.
He stood in some bare bedroom that was clearly not his. Through his hot tears, he saw some sort of wardrobe, incredibly plain curtains and bed sheets, and a gun on a small table beside the bed. Fear seized him and he yelled for Oz but again, no reply.
Although it hurt to move he fled the room. He couldn't stop shaking as he made his way from one strange room to another, loudly calling for Oz over and over. Each time he grew more anxious.
Who knew how he had managed to get out of the MAC, but he did. He didn't get very far however, collapsing on the grass nearby and taking the moment to catch his breath. He gripped the arm that hurt the most, which he could barely move. He didn't remember injuring it.
He didn't have much time to contemplate it. Strange and loud noises erupted from everywhere. He looked up to see dozens-- maybe one hundred people walking around wherever he was. There were large and shiny vehicles rolling past and nobody batted an eyelash at it. They were noisy and inside them, Gil could see people... sitting? The buildings around him were as high as trees. Maybe mountains.
Gil couldn't breathe. He felt dizzy and sick, and on the verge of fainting. It was too vivid to be some bizarre nightmare. Too noisy and too bright.
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Her grown up body had quite a lot of scars and that was something to get used to, too, feeling the way they pulled and pressed against her skin. There was a steadiness to her now and if she held still and closed her eyes, flickers and flashes of memories that hadn't happened to her yet would dance just out of reach.
She heads back to the MAC, considering that it might be a good idea to check up on everybody else, if only to see if it was only her that was affected. Rolling up to the building, she spots a kid, looking like he was having a panic attack all over the fucking lawn. Well. Shit.
Hopping off her board, she approaches him slowly, "Hey, kid. Hey, take it easy. You hurt?"
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Gil is unable to cease his sobbing, even when he thinks he hears a woman speaking to him. He's covered his head, as if to shield himself from everything. When he finally looks up, he can't help but scramble away from Jesse.
"I-I.... w-where...?" he chokes, but then winces when he moves his injured arm. More fat tears roll down his face. "W-who are... you?"
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Jesse sets her board down, just out of her reach, and sits down in the grass in front of the kid. She holds out her hands, palms up. "See? I'm onna the good guys. You can call me Jesse, aight?"
She's never been one of these kids, the kind that shrunk away and cried, but she remembers kids who were and she can remember the times that she wanted to be one of them.
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"W-Where's the y-young master?" his arm feels worse by the second, but priorities. "I can't... I can't find him..."
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"I dunno who your young master is, little dude," she says, "But it's pretty early, so not everybody's up yet, ya know?"
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"O-Oz... Oz Vessalius," he says slowly, in hopes she'll recognize the name. Who wouldn't know the Vessalius?
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"Maybe there's somebody around who knows him." She tips her head, studying him, "What's your name kiddo?"
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At least he's not bawling as loudly as he was before.
"Um, it's... Gilbert..."
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"Aight, cool. Can I call you Gil?"
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However, strangers have shown him plenty of kindness. The Vessalius family... they were just that, weren't they? Strangers who took him in. Gave him a reason to cling to life.
His arm still hurts. He touches his shoulder gently. "O-Okay... Miss... Miss Jesse!" He tilts his head to indicate the arm, "It hurts."
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"Can I see?"
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"Where's Master?"
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"I dunno, Gil. Maybe he's still in bed like everybody else. Hey, have you ever had pancakes before?"
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He doesn't have time for food. Food could come later. Master comes first.
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She looks up at him. "Is that okay?"
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He can't stop thinking about Oz. It's almost as if he's compelled to keep bringing him up, like speaking of him will summon the young master. If this is odd, Gil doesn't notice it at all.
"Do... you know where he might be?"
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"No, I'm sorry, I don't."
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"I--" No good. No good. No good. "B-But... the Master. I have to-- I have to be by his side. I'll be in so much trouble!"
Worse, Oz might need him. He could be lost in this strange city right now.
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"Gil, listen," she says, firmly, "I'm gonna help you look for your boss, okay? I'll make sure you don't get in trouble by him. Sound good."
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"B-But I'm the Young Master's servant. It's my job t-to be by his side!"
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"Okay, little dude. It's okay." She hesitates at first, then settles a tentative hand on his messy hair. "Crying over it isn't going to fix anything, Gil. Try to calm down, okay? Deep breaths."
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"O-Okay."
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