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tvklogs2011-11-28 02:57 pm
not-the-dreck.livejournal.com) wrote in tvklogs2011-11-28 02:57 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Who: Asch, Luke, and their Shadows.
What: FINAL SHOWDOWN
When: November 28th
Where: Streets of Prospero, Dark Hour.
Rating: Let's call it safe and say PG-13.
Warning: Violence, and Asch being grumpy.
As midnight approached, Asch was in his room, on his bed, taking inventory of himself. His only weapon, the good old trusty pipe, was polished almost like he would a sword. He almost wished his sword had followed him to this world, but it seemed only the dreck had luck enough for that; yet another thing that had him irritated, but he forced the rage down for now. There would be time enough for him to be pissed off, like when he set out to finally decapitate that fake that was parading around as him!
...well, maybe not decapitate, but he'd certainly give the fake a hell of a headache.
Three minutes to midnight. Asch grasped his pipe firmly in his hand, letting out a breath before standing up, walking out of the apartment. He glanced at the door across the hall, before turning around to lock up.
What: FINAL SHOWDOWN
When: November 28th
Where: Streets of Prospero, Dark Hour.
Rating: Let's call it safe and say PG-13.
Warning: Violence, and Asch being grumpy.
As midnight approached, Asch was in his room, on his bed, taking inventory of himself. His only weapon, the good old trusty pipe, was polished almost like he would a sword. He almost wished his sword had followed him to this world, but it seemed only the dreck had luck enough for that; yet another thing that had him irritated, but he forced the rage down for now. There would be time enough for him to be pissed off, like when he set out to finally decapitate that fake that was parading around as him!
...well, maybe not decapitate, but he'd certainly give the fake a hell of a headache.
Three minutes to midnight. Asch grasped his pipe firmly in his hand, letting out a breath before standing up, walking out of the apartment. He glanced at the door across the hall, before turning around to lock up.
no subject
Unfortunately, his shadow was there, a sneer on his face as he pointed to him mockingly.
"I think you defrosted the ice queen with that, dreck."
Asch let out an awkward noise, red creeping up onto his face. "S-shut up, idiot!"
no subject
So, that being said, Luke takes a step back and smile at his original. Waiting for his decision.
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"Fine," he began. "I... I hate myself. I hate the fact that I was too blinded by my childhood vision of Van to see what he was doing earlier. I hate that I bought into his lies for so long, and I hate that it makes me look like my replica."
He fell quiet for a long moment, eyes flicking reluctantly back to Luke, before muttering reluctantly, "...though I guess that doesn't turn out to be a bad thing."
His shadow let out a faint snort, his expression calming as he stepped forward, resting a hand on the real Asch's shoulder.
"You don't need to hate so much," he said softly. "It just hurts too much to hate like that."
Asch didn't respond, though he nodded slightly in agreement.
I was gonna quote karma-- Okay I'm doing it screw this
Such a nice feeling, that, whatever Luke was feeling was rubbing off on his shadow. Seeing that his twisted smile, also dropped to something that was accepting of the two of them. Of course, he turned to Luke and stopped right in front of him, now that their time was finished.
"Asch is Asch. Luke is Luke.
You two exist for a reason. You have a meaning to your births, so you're not a replacement. You two are separate people. ... Try to remember that, Luke." Then turning to Asch. "Asch."
The shadow, for once, smiled from pure innocence and backed away to be closer to Asch's shadow.
LMAO!
"Take care of each other," he added. "You need each other more than you realize."
He gave the shadow replica a grin, as if to say, "Shall we?" before quietly fading away, returning to the place he belonged.
no subject
... Luke on the other hand felt like he just had a million heart-attacks at how close they both were to becoming roasted dinner for Christmas.
"... That was a close one." Not that he didn't mean every word that he said, but seriously. That was a freaking close one.
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"...let's go home."
no subject
"Yeah. It's getting late." Reaching over to his original and squeezing his shoulder for good measure.