soul_logs | [OPEN] Earthquake Event

Ling had helped with rescue efforts during the earthquake, and afterwards had put in as much time as he could helping out around the clinic, tending to patients and injured people. He didn't know as much about the healing arts as say, his little sister Mei obviously did, but he at least was able to give people ice-packs and bandages, bring them water, and be a gopher for the clinic staff.

The reason that Ling was here was that he'd found an ache in his heart. The common people of Death City had been caught unawares by nature that they were powerless to defend against. He realized, moving among them during the rescue efforts, how much sympathy he had for them in their worry and troubles. Before, while living as a prince in Xing, he hadn't been allowed to leave the palace for safety reasons, and he'd never been able to observe the lifestyle of commoners and everyday citizens. He could see that these people were good. He'd witnessed loving families, worried neighbors, and people showing kindness to strangers. When night fell, however, a doctor decided that Ling needed a break whether he wanted one or not. Thus without ceremony, the (secret) prince was ordered to go outside and have a meal and rest.

That was why right now, Ling was sitting on the roof of the clinic, with a brown paper bag of bottles of iced tea, water, steamed buns, and sandwiches. He wrapped his cloak closer around himself and munched slowly, staring up at the icy points of the stars above in the night sky.

Edited 2012-02-07 06:24 (UTC)

He'd had enough on his mind as it is before the world shuddered beneath the city. On top of everything, he was due to head out on a Mission tomorrow. Kanji had wondered if he should call it off, but he wasn't keen on facing potential disappointment from Yako.

So there he was, walking back from checking on things at home: He'd lost some glassware and a lot of knick-knacks were knocked over, but they could easily be replaced. Iza, the little gray kitten left to his care, was sleeping in his bed as if nothing happened when he'd visited. Kanji looked once more to his communicator in his travels, the text replies from friends something of a comfort: They were shaken up, but alive... and that was all he could ask for. Now, if Yosuke-senpai would just return from his mission, everything would be okay... a bit broken in ways, but generally okay.

The teen stopped and looked at the clinic building. They would probably let him back in now, but it had grown late. The person he held dear was probably reading, or getting a well-deserved rest. He shouldn't bother her.

Still, he was restless. Before he knew it, he'd found a ladder leading up to the roof and took it. He usually did this at home, taking to the rooftops just to lie back and ponder, and it was perhaps that small ounce of homesickness that led him to take up what felt like such an age old habit now.

Up top, he noticed there was another individual having a seat, a familiar face: Ling was taking a breather himself.

"...Didn't know there was somebody else up here." Well, he could always see if the roof of Creeping Crypt was in okay shape.

The appearance of a strange person (all the gods be damned, why couldn't he sense chi here?!) set Ling off in defensive mode. Force of habit had him reaching for his sword-- then there was the split-second it took his fingers to find no sword there-- and then he had his hand in his pocket, looking for kunai, the other up to guard his heart.

Then the stranger stepped into the glow of a streetlight, and Ling could see a wide, high brow with a scar, and whitish-blonde hair. Oh, it was just a Death City person. That's right, relax, he told himself. So far there haven't been any other Xingese. And Kanji Tatsumi didn't quite seem the assassin type.

"Ah, Kanji is it? It's fine," Ling said, showing Kanji the best smile he could produce at the moment. His voice was a bit dry, and he lifted his arm slowly in greeting to wave Kanji over despite the protest from his stiffening muscles. "If it's you? You're welcome to sit here and brood also. Free space."

Ling looked down at the wrappings on his wrists, rotated his fist in a circle. Humm. He was going to have to visit a shop to buy liniment, tomorrow.

Kanji would make the worst assassin.

"Tch, I don't brood. What're you doin' skulkin' around up here?" He pushed himself up off the top of the ladder and onto the roof in two steps, seeking out a spot and having a seat. May as well hang out for a little while, shoot the shit... it was an excellent view, both up to the sky and down to the streets below. He wouldn't miss a thing.

Damn, did he miss this.

"Brooding and skulking, of course!" Ling joked, with a wan smile. His voice was much quieter than Kanji would have heard it before, with a tentative note. "I had been working here today but they told me that I needed to go outside. And have a break."

Ling rifled through his bag, taking out a bottle of water and a bottle of iced tea. "Which doesn't make sense," he mused, looking at the view and not at the other boy. "The people who are in there hurting don't get to have a break. I don't understand how they expect me to?"

He listened, keeping quiet as he focused above. The creepy grinning moon aside, it was a comfort to see just how similar the sky was here to that back home. The same inky dark blue, the same bright stars. After such overcast conditions for the last week, it was pretty damn nice to see it all again.

His hands busied themselves for a moment to adjust the coat he draped over his shoulders. "You can't help 'em out if you're all messed up n' tired, yeah?"

His arms draped over his knees as he looked ahead. "You got wounded in there who wanna see friendly faces, somethin' that'll tell 'em everything's okay."

"Mm..." Ling nodded, and took another bite of his sandwich. "I guess, but. I don't think I like some guy in a white coat telling me what to do. I'm old enough to know when I need to stop and eat." Well... that wasn't really true. But who cared right now! He was irritated. Would have been a good time to have Ran Fan right there, so that she could go off on them for bossing an Imperial Prince around.

Ling was in the middle of happily fantasizing about Ran Fan putting that doctor in his place with pinpoint accuracy when he suddenly blinked. What a terrible host he was being! "You hungry?" he asked Kanji as he chewed, holding the bag of food out to Kanji. "Thirsty?"

...Then why was he practically inhaling his food? Either this guy had a healthy appetite, or that guy in the white coat knew when to call 'em as he saw 'em. Still, Kanji had far too much on his mind to comment.

"Huh...?" The teen looked back with Ling's offer, eyes turning briefly to the bag. He didn't intend to clear the contents in a sitting, did he? Kanji's first instinct was to say no, but an uncomfortable squirm in his stomach reminded him that it had been a few hours since he'd even thought about stopping to eat. It wouldn't do to be stubborn when hunger pains, well, hurt.

"...Thanks." He'll just take a bottled tea and a steamed bun with a rather awkward nod.

It was both the appetite and the "call 'em as he saw 'em." Kanji could probably see evidence of as much in Ling's posture and furrowed brow as he chewed.

"You look troubled," Ling observed sagely, or at least as sagely as he could with a mouth full of cabbage and pork. Naturally he should be troubled, considering the events of the day. "What's happened to who? I saw you around here today, I thought."

He was peeling away the paper and taking a bite of the bun with Ling's observation. At the question he felt his face sting a little, and he moodily turned away to keep himself under control as he finished chewing.

"...Yeah. Got friends here, wanted to check on 'em. They kicked me out earlier 'cuz I got in the way or whatever," he grumbled. His eyes remained averted, turned to the food in his hand now. This was pretty good, where'd he get these? It's been a while since he had a good meat bun.

"I wasn't causin' a fuss or nothin'. Jus' got concerned, 's all!"

Ling looked over at the other boy with a sympathetic expression. "That's too bad," he said slowly, keeping his voice quiet. "I've seen a lot of people with injuries today, during the rescue operations. I'm sorry that your friends were among them."

He left a long pause to signify his respect for the situation (Xingese manners died hard), chin down to his chest as he contemplated how he might feel were he in the situation. "How did they get hurt?"

Kanji shook his head, finishing the bun off.

"Lot of us took a beating out in Europe last weekend. We won, but I dunno anybody who came away from that without some kinda scuff to show for it," he answered. Come to think of it, he didn't recall seeing Ling anywhere. He wondered if he was perhaps in Vienna or Prague at the time.

"First mission, and I took down plenty'a those kishin egg bastards. Y'stay here, or didja head out?"

"Aiya," Ling muttered under his breath, a grave look coming over his countenance. "But these Meisters and Weapons I see around here, so many of them are still just children. They still have their innocence about them. Why can't they be allowed to stay this way? Why doesn't Shibusen allow them to stay safe and peaceful as they are? They shouldn't have to endure the terrors of battle. There are plenty of us here who have blood on our hands and are already accustomed to war. Who can bear the brunt of the dirty work."

He shook his head and rested his chin in his hand, glaring out into the night. He flicked a small pebble beside him on the edge of the roof, watching its arc and subsequent descent into the darkness between buildings. For such a tiny rock, Ling reasoned, it might as well be falling into an abyss. "Tch. There is something so wrong about this place."

"Shibusen gives you a choice: Fight, or be a citizen," he replied dryly. Kanji stood behind his decision to fight and always would, but there was something about a choice like that that bugged him. Those that fought were Meisters and Weapons... what did that make the citizens who chose not to bear arms? What did it make them if the Witches chose to directly attack Death City?

"'s a messed-up choice to force people to make, but I wouldn't say it's the place that's to blame, though... it's this BREW. That's the thing that's cherrypickin' us." He rubbed the back of his head. Shibusen needed fighters, and that's what BREW set out to do. ...Yet, it still didn't explain a lot of the Guest citizens here who chose not to fight.

"It's no choice," Ling said, kicking his feet to thump his heels against the side of the building. "People are brought involuntarily, and told they're here because of a war. If we have to fight until this war is over to be returned home, it's only natural that a logical person who wants to get home would join in the battle to get home faster."

"Such tactics show chicken-heartedness. If it were truly a good cause, they would be able to find warriors from many worlds simply by making them aware of the situation. A thing like BREW is not the creation of a faithful leader," he concluded, with a sulk. He took a big bite of his sandwich, chewing angrily. "And people using it on others-- be they death gods or no-- sickens me."

He was quiet, considering the other end of the spectrum: People BREW had no business bringing here to play hero, one big example being a sociopath he knew still lurking out there somewhere. It seemed BREW was perhaps unstable, grabbing any old person who looked like they could defend what they loved or fight for what they believed in, then sending them home without any sort of rhyme or reason.

"The way I see it, it feels desperate. I dunno why else anybody would turn to somethin' as unreliable as BREW. It also seems to 'think' on its own," he finally said. Then, after a drink, he furrowed his brow.

"You shoulda seen Europe, Ling. They got Shibusen buildings in every major city, but that Madness shit, the kishin eggs... the Witches aren't screwin' around."

Ling bit his lower lip and considered Kanji's words. "Mm. Perhaps I am speaking too soon," he mused, voice at the bottom of its register. "I have not seen any of this for myself."

He looked down to the alley far below them. "I guess it's just as it was at home. In safe places, people talk easily of how the lives of military forces or the common people should be deployed, like pawns on a chess board. People who have never smelled a battlefield think they can decide, without having been there."

Ling swallowed, judging himself. Lost in his own memories of battlefields past, he was silent for many long moments before speaking again.

"What is all of it like, in... did you say, 'You-rup?' How desperate is it exactly?"

Kanji took a minute to think, to put together his memories of Florence. It was barely a week ago, but so much had happened, so much running about making sure everyone else was all right that he hadn't put much thought to his own well-being, his own personal happenings. It didn't take much to have everything come flooding back.

He continued to look ahead, eyes unfocused. "...When I stepped outta the mirror and walked outside, it was like somethin' pressin' on me. The Madness, it was so damn thick, it was almost like breathin' water. It all ready hit a bunch'a people... one minute you're in a fight side by side, and then your buddy just turns on you."

"Emitters... the Witches put down these weird machines that amplified that crazy feeling in everybody, just because they could. It all ready did so much damage when we all got there. Florence looked like hell... n' felt like it, too. Kishin eggs were everywhere, rollin' in Madness, so they fought harder, moved quicker than usual, if what I was told was right." Kanji shook his head.

"Shit... it was a hell of a first Mission. I didn't even see it was a three-star, just that they needed every single able body. I dunno how Shibusen figured out the emitters were there, but with how quick they put it all up on the board n' how quick everything went to shit, I think we found out at about the last damn minute. Any later, and it would'a gone way worse." He turned then, looking back at Ling, his countenance showing nothing.

Ling stared at Kanji, trying to process all of the things he was hearing. His brow was knitted in helpless frustration. "It's like you're speaking a whole new language," he grumbled, folding his arms again pensively. "Witches, emitters, Florence eggs and Madness..." He rubbed his forehead, for once allowing his negative feelings to show in his tone of voice and sharp syllables. "I hate this damned shithole so much."

Ling truly did detest this place, and this situation. This city was ugly to his eyes, the culture wasn't one he liked or could read much about, the government was shady and it was near impossible to find out more about them. He was used to being able to control things by pulling strings and espionage behind the scenes, but this-- huge shit just kept happening that he felt powerless to do anything about. It felt like trying to swim in the ocean, and wave after wave was breaking over his head so that he couldn't get above it all.

He shook his head to wipe his feelings away for now, to pay attention to Kanji. "So the operation went bad. Is that how your companion was hurt?"

New world, new terms... that's what Kanji told himself. He was sure that if he started talking about a world inside a television, Shadows, and Persona it would have perplexed Ling the same. He said nothing, however, and nodded.

There were plenty of things to hate about Death City, about the war... but Kanji knew complaining about it wouldn't change things. Actions, however, did. He knew Ling was no fool, and felt no need to remind him of this thought.

"Didn't say it went bad. For comin' in a little late, everybody did a damn good job. ...My friend won't tell me what happened n' I don't think I should ask." He paused to drink and idly shook the container.

"I just want 'em to get better. Doin' everything I can in the meantime."

Ling nodded and gave a grunt of approval. "Mmm," he hummed, looking down at his hands. "I know that feeling well." He wasn't going to think right now about it-- it was going to hurt again too much, and this was Kanji-time as far as Ling was concerned. He turned himself to face the other boy, trying to put on a more positive expression.

"Well. When you're trying to heal, what helps the most is knowing you have support, someone out there who's thinking of you. Wishing the best for you." That was what had kept him going during the suffering he'd experienced after he had absorbed Greed. "I'm sure that your friends are thankful to have you behind them. Out of curiosity... what're you doing, specifically, in said meantime?"

He turned his head, and listened. To know that he's doing something, anything at all to aid a friend's recovery was a comfort, but to have it confirmed meant far more. Sure he may have pissed off the nurses a little on more than one occasion but, damn it, he was helping!

With his question, however, he shrugged. Gray eyes turned away as he felt his face burn a little. "I uh, brought back a few books to read, occupy the time while stuck in the hospital bed, y'know? Then I'll bring by lunch or just swing by to draw some stuff, just talk a bit..."

He reached up to scratch his head.

"...Then the nurse either kicks me out or she feels kinda tired, so I get outta her hair and head home. Dunno if there's anything else I can do... is there?"

"Books, that's a great idea," Ling agreed, brightening just a touch. "Nobody likes to be stuck in those smelly places. Being able to take your mind somewhere else or read something useful, that's a truly important gift."

"Draw some stuff?" Ling asked, tilting his head to the side. "Humm... never really met people who liked to draw. Other than court painters, of course. Or the men who sell paintings on the streets in large cities."

"'s just somethin' I like to do," he replied with a shrug. Kanji was very skilled, but he wasn't usually the type to brag about it.

"Got one or two things hung up on the walls back in Creeping Crypt. The blank white walls were pissin' me off."

He looked away then, tapping the bottle against a leg. For a minute he was quiet, contemplative. Then, he sighed. His sitting up here was starting to make him feel a little awkward.

"They're probably not gonna let me back in... not when it's gettin' late as it is. I should probably head home."

"Yes. it is late, and I'm guessing that stupid doctor is going to tell me to get out anyway." With a sigh, Ling pushed himself up with his hands, collecting up his bag of food and drink. Gathering his strength, he managed to back on a thin veneer of his usual protective cheer. Sure, it was subdued and thin, but at least it was covering the breaks underneath for now. That was all Ling needed to get through right now, he assured himself. It was good enough.

"I wanna see your drawings on your walls? That sounds so interesting." He stretched his arms as he did so, to make the indirect request even less vulnerable, in case the answer was a "no." He couldn't tell which way it could break. It wasn't like Ling had any sort of experience with these kinds of precarious things. The making of friends, the navigation of how to ask for things instead of demand them-- he'd never had to do any of those. Company was twenty-four hours a day, round the clock, always had been. Ling didn't even go to the bathroom in Xing without someone guarding the door. Being stripped of that constant presence felt unnatural, felt frightening. He knew he was grabbing for straws out of loneliness, but who knew. If he kept searching about, perhaps he'd eventually find a person who didn't mind doing the same.

Ling tilted his head to the side, trying his very best to keep the chatter going, and praying for it to work. "I hate my walls in Creeping Crypt, they're ugly and plain white like a coffin. And it smells like paint in there. Gives me the creeps."

Edited 2012-03-03 21:10 (UTC)

[Ling and Kanji] [January 22] [Closed]

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