realityshifted | (no subject)

Current Mood: thoughtful

Entry tags:

baccano! (d1) firo porchainezo

(no subject)

[And it's Firo again! Tripping backwards onto the plane in a massive clangor of falling plate armor (Italian circa the 1500s), with a fauchard buried in his gut. He's got a good grip on the haft to keep it from falling over and doing even more damage. =_= ]

Collectors. I hate collectors. [He coughs and stares up at the 'sky' with a long-suffering look on his face.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

And you can still talk like it's nothing. [Shoves Jack away from him.] You're well on your way to turning into him.

I'm not making light of what happened; I accepted what I lost and the fact that the world would move on. You should learn to do the same.

[Sorry, Jack, that's probably not going to happen this century. He's still a kid in a lot of ways. He turns away and shoves his hands into his pockets. He wants to say something else, something angry and dismissive, but words from one of the half-buried memories spring to his lips almost unconsciously. An intense headache bangs in his ears.]

I lost an entire regiment, and you're telling me to move on? I can't go back out there. I can't just go back out there!

[He stops, inhales sharply, rubbing a hand across his mouth. That's the second time it's happened--the first was when Mu went nuts. He won't show he's unnerved by it--he won't show he's scared by the growing presence of dozens of lives played out constantly in his subconscious. He keeps his back to Jack, tensed.]

[Jack may not know everything about Firo, but he's smart enough to figure out that what he just spouted is out of place for. Firm himself looks almost scared to him] Where did that come from?

[Defensively.] I dunno, the pictures or something.

Since when do you quote 'pictures' in the middle of a conversation?

Since when does some genius shoot himself in the head to prove a point?

Since I've got the ammo to spare. Start talking, Firo.

[His expression could best be called 'sullen'. He looks away.]

Why did you talk as if you'd been in the war?

Told you, I was quoting a picture.

I'm not an idiot, Firo.

No more than you're my mother. You've said doodly-squat about yourself--why should I say anything more?

I told you about my immortality, the Doctor, and the fact I lived through World War I. What have you told me about yourself?

Already knew about the immortality, already knew about the Doctor, and you told me the whole world's gonna rip itself to pieces again. I don't owe you anything.

What more do you want me to tell you? I'm not the one spouting lines from something he's never even experienced.

[Growl.] It's none of your beeswax, all right?

Then don't ask me to tell you about myself.

[This time when he opens his mouth and feels the headache come rushing in, he has the sense to turn away, grit his teeth, bite down on the words. The image of a girl demanding the truth dances in front of his eyes.]

[Jack can tell that somethings wrong, but this tim he doesn't say anything, deciding that letting Firo be is the best option]

[His vision goes hazy; bubbles of shadow form and burst at the edges of his vision. Firo staggers, sticking out a hand to steady himself against something, anything--Jack, unfortunately, is the only thing nearby. Firo gasps; he hasn't had one this bad in a while. And then the headache dissipates, leaving the taste of unspoken words in his mouth.]

[Jack let's him use him as support, putting a hand on Firo's shoulder. These must've been the headaches Ianto had mentioned]

[It takes him a minute to even out his breathing, to reorient himself. He snatches his hand back and looks away.]

[Jack makes no move to stop him] Those are the headaches that Ianto mentioned, then.

Yeah, they would be.

(no subject)

itsthecoat.livejournal.com - 2008-07-09 20:53 (UTC) - Expand

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only