The last he remembers was pointing his guns and firing them point blank range at the smug bastard who thought he was an intelligent and cunning hunter. As he finally comes to, his senses - usually sharp and edged - feel fuzzy and it takes a few moments before his mind finally catches up. About that time he registers a couple of things and it's nothing at all he likes.
One? They have him here in some world where you couldn't make sound without the threat of death. Two? They took his goddamn coat and his usual clothes, along with his guns and knives.
To top it all off, without the cover of his coat? It was even harder to mask the rather massive wings he kept folded close to his back, the colors of the feathers ranging from a darker brown to a soft, light gold hue that shimmered in certain lighting. Though he was sure that the pointed ears would have given away his inhuman nature, it didn't leave him feeling very receptive to all this and had him scowling a little at the device in hand.
For a second he nearly looks like he wants to throw it at the wall but decides against it. Which was needed since he found someone staring at him and he responded in way of a message right after. ]
What? Didn't anyone tell you it's rude to stare?
| Caught me Unawares |
[ Never did he expect he'd ever relive his happiest moments in a place like this one.
The happiest ones are rare, far and inbetween but they're still there. Showing a young boy with the same blond hair and green eyes as Yukie but there's no wings or shred of inhumanity and a vibrant smile on his face. He's only a child of four here, dancing with his mother outside of a cozy-looking home that could only belong out of something from the 1900's. Nature was vibrant, bright and colorful, matching the expressions on both of their faces.
The woman - his mother - had faded blondish-brown hair and a kind smile. Yukie had gotten his eyes from her, a small face not yet marked with the demonic curse he now bore.
She's kind and sweet and he can't help but think of her. Many of his happier memories feature her as she whispers sweet words, fingers brushing through his hair and many might recognize the language spoken as none other than German. He's happy and cheerful around her, even through some later memories when he's a eager young man of around fifteen and cooking for her without any hesitations or pain visible whatsoever.
Lastly?
The shift is palpable in the next memories. He looks as he does now, expression soft but bemused as he's speaking to a rather pale young man with white-tipped navy blue hair and red eyes who seems to be huffing and seeming petulant about something. All while Yukie traces fingers along a gun in his one hand briefly. This could be likened to realizing this person was at least a friend to him, if the way he playfully punched his shoulder was any indication. It's almost painful when the next night comes and there's nothing but a door, steps hitting nothing and the fall catching him so off guard that he can't even muster up the strength to use his wings.
It's only as they reach the ground that he turns his attention to the one who'd ended up here, bristling visibly. ]
You'd do best to look away. I don't need people prying into my life like this.
[ He's a little brash and rough around the edges but not a bad person. This just seems way too invasive for him. ]
| Falling down the Stairs | CW for torture, blood, needles
[ Of all things? This was the worst thing to be dreaming of and it's haunted him for YEARS.
At this time he remembers many awful things but this was... the worst time in his life. There's an older man, voice rough with germanic tones and suddenly Yukie is being taken away by men in military uniforms. No matter how he tries to fight it, he can't. His mom unable to do a damn thing, hands covering her eyes even as he screams for her.
Then there's the real worst parts.
He's SCREAMING. Pain. They inject him with more serum and his body convulses, twitching as he coughs up blood and fights against his restraints. His head feels like it's splitting open and he can't take more. More. Not much more of this. Day in and day out, the cycle repeats and the men hurt him; bruise him and throw him into the cell when he's not strapped down to that table.
No use. Try another serum. Something has to work! Try again!
Tears run down his face, hands break his wrists and it starts again. A number of different needles, blood running from his eyes but he never dies despite pain and white-hot agony searing through every pore. Laughing. He can almost hear the laughing. Day in and day out it hurts. More needles, more blood. Then finally when he feels like he's almost broken down, it happens. Nothing could have prepared this young man from the agony of having wings rip themselves out of your back violently, blood spraying everywhere.
Too much pain. It's too much to bear. His mind snaps briefly.
Never did Yukie want to relive those times, but here it was and tonight he wasn't alone. Tension is wrought in every nerve and the way he holds himself, wings shifting to almost curl around him protectively. Why did that door appear and bring him here with them? ]
Stop. Please don't... I can't...
[ His cold shell is cracked; showing an edge of vulnerability. Rare and unfettered. He couldn't build up his walls right now. ]
| Wildcard |
[ Nothing stand out to you? Bring me anything that stands out to you and i'll roll with it ^^ ]
Yukie Gray | Original Character
[ Nothing about this is right.
The last he remembers was pointing his guns and firing them point blank range at the smug bastard who thought he was an intelligent and cunning hunter. As he finally comes to, his senses - usually sharp and edged - feel fuzzy and it takes a few moments before his mind finally catches up. About that time he registers a couple of things and it's nothing at all he likes.
One? They have him here in some world where you couldn't make sound without the threat of death. Two? They took his goddamn coat and his usual clothes, along with his guns and knives.
To top it all off, without the cover of his coat? It was even harder to mask the rather massive wings he kept folded close to his back, the colors of the feathers ranging from a darker brown to a soft, light gold hue that shimmered in certain lighting. Though he was sure that the pointed ears would have given away his inhuman nature, it didn't leave him feeling very receptive to all this and had him scowling a little at the device in hand.
For a second he nearly looks like he wants to throw it at the wall but decides against it. Which was needed since he found someone staring at him and he responded in way of a message right after. ]
What? Didn't anyone tell you it's rude to stare?
| Caught me Unawares |
[ Never did he expect he'd ever relive his happiest moments in a place like this one.
The happiest ones are rare, far and inbetween but they're still there. Showing a young boy with the same blond hair and green eyes as Yukie but there's no wings or shred of inhumanity and a vibrant smile on his face. He's only a child of four here, dancing with his mother outside of a cozy-looking home that could only belong out of something from the 1900's. Nature was vibrant, bright and colorful, matching the expressions on both of their faces.
The woman - his mother - had faded blondish-brown hair and a kind smile. Yukie had gotten his eyes from her, a small face not yet marked with the demonic curse he now bore.
She's kind and sweet and he can't help but think of her. Many of his happier memories feature her as she whispers sweet words, fingers brushing through his hair and many might recognize the language spoken as none other than German. He's happy and cheerful around her, even through some later memories when he's a eager young man of around fifteen and cooking for her without any hesitations or pain visible whatsoever.
Lastly?
The shift is palpable in the next memories. He looks as he does now, expression soft but bemused as he's speaking to a rather pale young man with white-tipped navy blue hair and red eyes who seems to be huffing and seeming petulant about something. All while Yukie traces fingers along a gun in his one hand briefly. This could be likened to realizing this person was at least a friend to him, if the way he playfully punched his shoulder was any indication. It's almost painful when the next night comes and there's nothing but a door, steps hitting nothing and the fall catching him so off guard that he can't even muster up the strength to use his wings.
It's only as they reach the ground that he turns his attention to the one who'd ended up here, bristling visibly. ]
You'd do best to look away. I don't need people prying into my life like this.
[ He's a little brash and rough around the edges but not a bad person. This just seems way too invasive for him. ]
| Falling down the Stairs |
CW for torture, blood, needles
[ Of all things? This was the worst thing to be dreaming of and it's haunted him for YEARS.
At this time he remembers many awful things but this was... the worst time in his life. There's an older man, voice rough with germanic tones and suddenly Yukie is being taken away by men in military uniforms. No matter how he tries to fight it, he can't. His mom unable to do a damn thing, hands covering her eyes even as he screams for her.
Then there's the real worst parts.
He's SCREAMING. Pain. They inject him with more serum and his body convulses, twitching as he coughs up blood and fights against his restraints. His head feels like it's splitting open and he can't take more. More. Not much more of this. Day in and day out, the cycle repeats and the men hurt him; bruise him and throw him into the cell when he's not strapped down to that table.
No use. Try another serum. Something has to work! Try again!
Tears run down his face, hands break his wrists and it starts again. A number of different needles, blood running from his eyes but he never dies despite pain and white-hot agony searing through every pore. Laughing. He can almost hear the laughing. Day in and day out it hurts. More needles, more blood. Then finally when he feels like he's almost broken down, it happens. Nothing could have prepared this young man from the agony of having wings rip themselves out of your back violently, blood spraying everywhere.
Too much pain. It's too much to bear. His mind snaps briefly.
Never did Yukie want to relive those times, but here it was and tonight he wasn't alone. Tension is wrought in every nerve and the way he holds himself, wings shifting to almost curl around him protectively. Why did that door appear and bring him here with them? ]
Stop. Please don't... I can't...
[ His cold shell is cracked; showing an edge of vulnerability. Rare and unfettered. He couldn't build up his walls right now. ]
| Wildcard |
[ Nothing stand out to you? Bring me anything that stands out to you and i'll roll with it ^^ ]