ʀʏᴏ "be gay do crimes" ᴀsᴜᴋᴀ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
luciformis) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
reverielogs2018-10-01 09:54 pm
luciformis) wrote in reverielogs2018-10-01 09:54 pm
(closed.) i don't wanna be your vessel anymore.
» WHO? Ryo & Venus
» WHEN? Midway through the first week of October.
» WHERE? The second hydroponics room.
» WHAT? There's just so much hair.
» WARNINGS? None at the moment.
[ "I'll let you come around on your own," is what they'd said.
"You'll come around on your own."
He thinks. He thinks that's what they'd said, if only because there is so much about himself that he cannot remember. Ryo Asuka, as all knew him, wasn't birthed from a mother who adored him. He had been thrust into the world like Aphrodite, born of seaside air and ocean salt. He'd been baptized in the endless expanses, left to consume the brine until it had seeped into his bones and flesh and had become a part of him. It eroded at every part of him, shaped him into something new to fit within the arms of someone who implored him to be all right enough to say so.
Don't be afraid, Akira had said. And though he was — and though he'd always been —, he'd learned how to suppress it. At least, that's what he thought he did. At least, that's what he tells himself as something else shifts another piece of the remaining and tangible fragments of him.
Ryo Asuka is just himself. Ryo would always be Ryo.
But, he sits now amid the new and green, the hydroponics room devoid of life beyond himself and all that blooms around him. The music that plays here is low and soft and sweet — it follows him wherever it is he goes. It's like the pads of fingers run against the rims of thinner glasses, a searching and sorrowful thing. It pulls up around him, like his fingers pull up through the thick of his hair that curls now over his shoulders.
His fingers may be dexterous when tending wounds or cleaning guns, but there is a lack of familiarity that exists here. No matter what he does, tying it back with the band he's worked out about his wrist doesn't hold the bulk of it for long. It comes undone in parts, masks the newer shape of his ears.
It isn't much of a surprise that he doesn't turn his head when anyone else comes in.
After all, he's persistent in everything he does. ]
» WHEN? Midway through the first week of October.
» WHERE? The second hydroponics room.
» WHAT? There's just so much hair.
» WARNINGS? None at the moment.
[ "I'll let you come around on your own," is what they'd said.
"You'll come around on your own."
He thinks. He thinks that's what they'd said, if only because there is so much about himself that he cannot remember. Ryo Asuka, as all knew him, wasn't birthed from a mother who adored him. He had been thrust into the world like Aphrodite, born of seaside air and ocean salt. He'd been baptized in the endless expanses, left to consume the brine until it had seeped into his bones and flesh and had become a part of him. It eroded at every part of him, shaped him into something new to fit within the arms of someone who implored him to be all right enough to say so.
Don't be afraid, Akira had said. And though he was — and though he'd always been —, he'd learned how to suppress it. At least, that's what he thought he did. At least, that's what he tells himself as something else shifts another piece of the remaining and tangible fragments of him.
Ryo Asuka is just himself. Ryo would always be Ryo.
But, he sits now amid the new and green, the hydroponics room devoid of life beyond himself and all that blooms around him. The music that plays here is low and soft and sweet — it follows him wherever it is he goes. It's like the pads of fingers run against the rims of thinner glasses, a searching and sorrowful thing. It pulls up around him, like his fingers pull up through the thick of his hair that curls now over his shoulders.
His fingers may be dexterous when tending wounds or cleaning guns, but there is a lack of familiarity that exists here. No matter what he does, tying it back with the band he's worked out about his wrist doesn't hold the bulk of it for long. It comes undone in parts, masks the newer shape of his ears.
It isn't much of a surprise that he doesn't turn his head when anyone else comes in.
After all, he's persistent in everything he does. ]
no subject
that's not true. of course she hears the music, swelling and ambitious and ready to face the world. but she doesn't hear ryo's music, and maybe that's for the best. this music suits her so much more. it makes her want to reach out, to gather all the new devils under her wings and lead them someplace new.
jupiter and neptune aren't here anymore. but maybe she can make this place a home for them by the time they're back.
she enters the room, and sure enough, dr. asuka's there. she'd sort of cheated her way in? it's a lot easier than normal to find him, at least, what with the constant presence of the lights in her mind. she gets the feeling that should be weird, but it's actually kind of soothing? warm and cool at the same time. it feels like the light she gives off. ]
I'm coming in. [ coming in! her mind echoes moments before. she looks him over, trying to assess his changes, and comes to a few realizations immediately:
1) wow! your hair is really cute like that!
2) is that what the devil gave you?
3) haha. it looks kind of like mine.
4) oh, are you trying to fix it? i should help. how should i ask? hm.
it's a general sort of cacophony. hopefully it's not too much for ryo at once. ]