outside 'open.

[Gabriel Taylor Adams]

Warning for Possibly Disturbing Content.

Oh Sweetheart
You’ve Broken Me

Pull Me Out Grab My Hand
I Just Forgot Where I Came From

---

Gabriel reclined in a comfortable, almost cushy, chair, head tilted back and his eyes shut. A glass of some pale, fizzy drink rested on the small oaken table beside him. In a sort of sleep, he reached for it, then pulled his hand back. He seemed, in all sorts, just to be checking of the existence. Lucia, a mere blob of lavender color in a jar, slept quietly near the glass. Well, appeared to be sleeping. Gabriel knew she too listened to the shallow wheezing in the back corner of the room. His eyes opened, silver irises turned almost copper by the glow of the candle light. Lazily, he slid his gaze sideways. Yes, Lucia had heard it too. Or rather, not heard it. Her wide, violet eyes were fixed on him, as a rabbit watches a stalking cat.

The sound had stopped. A small smile played on his lips as Gabriel climbed from the seat, springs creaking at the shift in weight. His shaggy, charcoal hair had been pulled back out of his face with a ribbon, leaving a loose albeit small ponytail. Loose bangs fell over his face now and then, but he ignored them. Without looking he found the knife on the tabletop. Lucia said something he didn’t hear, even though the top of her jar was currently open. Gabriel had eyes only for the motionless lump in the corner of his room.

Gradually, as he drew closer, he could pick out the faint breathing. Thin lips drew back over white, even teeth, eyes narrowed into slits. Gabriel set down the knife on the floor, making nary a sound, and examined his prize.

Once upon a time she might have been pretty. Even now her soul glimmered, brightly, happy even in the suffering. And she didn’t deserve it. Hair once blonde and now matted with blood clung to her face in separated strands, and a face slit nearly in two oozed slowly. The marks on her hands, defense wounds, were reddened around the edges - infection seeped in, but slowly. Gabriel made sure to make the whole process remained as slow as possible. Even now he reached for the bag near the girl‘s - she couldn’t be more than seventeen - form.

“What are you doing?” That was Lucia, her voice containing a metallic, echoing ring. He glanced over his shoulder at her, then returned to rummaging through the bag.

“Can’t have her dying on me,” he said, a fevered expression on his face.

Lucia heaved a small, tinny sigh. “Gabriel, it’s been three days. You haven’t eaten anything. Don’t you think it’s time? She’s had enough.”

Gabriel spun, a growl rumbling in his throat, teeth bared in a feral snarl. “They’ve never had enough.” The mad light flickered and died from his eyes. He drew his hand from the bag and picked up the knife, trembling slightly. The girl on the floor - he didn’t even remember her name - groaned, eyelids flickering. One was nothing more than an empty socket, tear ducts leaking onto her mutilated face. Her soul looked tainted, and he could feel the pain coming off her in waves. The one eye fixed on the knife in his hand.

“It’s a kindness at this point, you know that,” he called, partially to himself. A kindness, he reminded himself, that they didn’t deserve. Like the girl in front of him, Gabriel looked wasted - a thin, haunted version of a healthy being. He gritted his teeth, knuckles whitening on the knife handle. She took a sharp, choking breath as the blade buried into her chest, and her life winked out. The last breath rattled in her throat. Blood and darker things oozed from the gash in neck, a thin line of blood trickling from between her lips. Gabriel reached for a jar.

---

Showered, in a change of clothes, he looked much better. His hair hung loose about his face now, eyes lost their maddened gleam. Gabriel sat cross legged in the dirt of the clearing, staring at the small lump of earth in front of him. Radiating calm, he took a long drink from the bottle at his side. It’d taken him all afternoon to dig the grave, then to bury the body. The soul, dim shadow of the former thing, lay trapped in a jar at his side. He’d left Lucia inside; no need to put up with her bitter chattering if he didn’t have to. Dressed in simple clothes, he looked at peace with the world. It wouldn’t last. There were too many undeserving beings out their with happy souls, destined for a happy life - until he came to fix it.

The moon rose from behind the trees, and fireflies winked from among the foliage. Silence. Behind him the small cabin lurked like a waiting monster, yawning eyes lit by candlelight. Someday he‘d burn the whole thing to the ground and start over somewhere else. For now, he lived her. The world seemed . . . Alien, yet not too different from where Shibusen lay. Weariness settled over him. Gabriel felt he could drop off the sleep here in the dirt, but it looked like it may rain yet. Not wanting to wake up in a puddle of mud, he pushed himself to his feet.

From the window, Lucia glowered at him. He didn‘t know why he kept her - more than once someone had offered to take her off his hands. A grounded soul. Mindless souls were easy to come by, but one with a conscience, one with a thought process - what a delicacy that would be for the Kishin. Gabriel waved half heartedly at her, a smile curling on his lips.

Save Me

[/I][/center]

posting template by` Gabriel
featured band` delirious? Songs [Kingdom of Comfort & Wonder]
notes` An actual post I can be proud of. HAR.
status` open to anyone.
words` 1045.
setting` small house, surrounding woods outside the city..

[Romano]

The Spaniard grinned, holding out a plate of something he knew all to well. "Churros~?"

Romano blinked slowly, eyes flicking between the little treats and the grinning moron, he scowled. He'd swear to god to bastard was just playing on his weak points, looking for points where he knew Romano would fold. Damn him, he was so freaking obviously up to something, the creepy little pervert he was. "Si..." He couldn't resist, he had to hand it the bastard, he made a damn good pastry when he put his mind to it. Not that Romano would ever freaking compliment the moron, eugh, heaven's forbid such a thing. Whatever, enough of that. Snagging one of the small little delights he popped it in his mouth, glaring at Antonio all the time he chewed the thing. He could tell the sneaky little freak was plotting something.

"Now then~! You have work to do~!" The hell?! Spluttering on the Churro the damn thing ended up lodging in his throat, choking him slightly as he banged a palm on his chest to try and free the damn thing, Spain's face a picture of horror. Honestly, the pervert was trying to kill him with damn well doughnuts, that was just low!

"Sonava bitch.....!" Snapped out the elder Italian, once more able to breath. Last time he ever took anything from this moron, or at least that's what he told himself. In reality it would last.... An hour, maybe two, at best. That was just kind of how it went with the angry little Italian though, say one thing, do something else, and mean something other than what he was both doing and saying. He acted brave, and yet he didn't have a brave bone in him. He was simply lucky Italian tanks were pretty damn fast, they made good getaway vehicles.

Folding his arms, face now flushed red with the bother of having to try and dislodge a simple pastry from killing him. Really, this was turning out to be pain in the ass of a day, though wasn't every day with the dirty bastard a pain? Yeeeep, pretty much. It was a pain with just him, but a near catastrophe when freaking well Francis showed up, eugh. The hell was with that guy anyway? Actually it was better not to ask that question, he was just sick in the head, he'd probably drowned his utterly none existent brain in wine. Stupid freaky ol' pervert, really, what the hell did Antonio see in that g--- He wasn't going to ask, it was a thought he was not under any circumstances having no matter how much anyone may push at him. For the sake of his sanity he damn well refused.

With a huffing grunt he turned on his heels, slinking off out of the room, ignoring the babbling Spaniard behind him. What was he saying? Che, like Lovino cared at all. In these cases, like any, it was better to leave, get a few tomatoes to lay your mind to rest, and spend the rest of the day snoozing under the Spanish sun. Pretty decent idea really, best bit being there was no one that could or would interrupt him from such. Pretty much he was in an ideal situation, though this again was not something he'd ever admit. Ideal had a nasty habit of becoming less than perfect in life though, think of it as having a damn good tomato harvest, only for birds to ruin it or something, that was pretty much something to the same degree as this. All the hope of having a delicious little treat, only to get something kinda sickly that gave you a seriously bad stomach ache.

It was thankfully a kind of blink and it all changed thing, well that was at least the good thing, everything else around that point was kinda right on down kill. One would have thought that being thrown into a different country would be the worst of it. But no, that title fell to the being thrown into a freaking tree. The thing about trees was that they were kind of unrelenting, if you hit one the tree was going to win, there was really very little way around it. And so with a heavy thumping sound he hit the thing, yelling out and glaring at the thing he rubbed at his now tender face... Who the hell put a tree here in the middle of-- Eh? Blinking he frowned, the hell was he?! This wasn't freaking Spain! No, this wasn't that dirty bastard's home, nor was it anywhere he actually recognized... And why the hell was it night time? He was pretty sure it had damn well being daytime prior to the tree meeting unexpectedly with his face. Fuh!

Stuffing his hands in his pockets he growled, nerves set on edge as he glared at the ground. Alone in the middle of some woods? Oh for someone as obviously brave as he this was no problem at all... Yeah right. The look on his face kinda said it all, he was pretty much freaking scared out of his wits, yet seeing as how there was nothing to actually run from he was just kinda... Well walking in the first direction he'd picked, right or wrong he'd chosen it in the hope he... Well at least found someone who could kinda maybe tell him where he was. Someone that wouldn't try and kill him we might add, that was the last thing the coward wanted.

With a huffing sigh he managed to eat least pull up his usual stony expression as he came across some freaky looking kid. "Oi, you," he snapped out, arms folding over his chest as he stopped a short distance away, most unwilling to endanger himself by getting any closer. "Who the hell are yah, and where am I?" Answer so he could leave and get on with things, that or so he could just pester for more questions. Frankly he didn't really much want to be alone right now. Cowardice, it really wasn't the best trait in the world.