complete
Who: Igarashi Ganta (cachaemic) and Genkaku (thanatolatry)...
What: Marco Polo
Where: That building where Things Happened.
When: Now. After this.
When did things get so messed up?
Nothing seemed real since Ganta left Deadman Wonderland. Maybe he never had. It sure didn't feel like they escaped anything. The pain in his chest had only gotten worse in the past few days, and his heart hadn't seemed to slow down since he saw Nagi's last transmission. Like that wasn't bad enough, now the city was a giant mirror. Running down the glass covered streets, he kept jumping at his own reflection, and he still couldn't shake the feeling that he was being followed. Ganta didn't have time to wonder. Karako and all the other people in DW who looked to Nagi as their leader, they wouldn't want to see him like that. For them, he had to...
Maybe he shouldn't have gone alone. But twice now he had been selfish and hid what he knew instead of warning everyone. All so they wouldn't know he was a prisoner before he came there. Because of that, people had ended up hurt or killed. Ganta might not stand much of a chance at defeating him on his own, but he wouldn't drag anyone else into his mess.
Or it could be that he was just being stubborn. It was hard for him to tell what the right choices were any more. Even Senji was annoyed with him for being so indecisive. For once he felt like he had to follow through and prove to everyone that he was worth something.
Ganta was out of breath by the time he reached the old warehouse building. He didn't know what he thought he might find there that would lead him to Nagi, but it was the only clue he had.
As he opened the door a waft of warm musky air hit him in the face and he bit at his lip before he built up the courage to enter. He walked forward slowly, stopping once he was a few feet in to find a light. Once he was was inside, Ganta immediately recognized the stench of blood and covered his mouth to fight the bile rising in his throat. It was just as Dai said. The walls, floors, everything was stained.
However long ago that was, the building was empty now. It was totally silent except for his own footfalls as he forced himself to look around. One object caught his eye towards the far end of the room: a crumpled piece of cloth near a murky pool, of what he could only guess, and with a shaking hand he bent down to pick it up. The fabric was cold and tattered, but he knew it was his. Just as recognition dawned, tears threatened to burn down his cheeks and he shut his eyes to keep them from falling.
He shouldn't have come there. What did he think he could do? Shiro had told him. Why did he think he could save anyone? Ganta cursed to himself and gripped the piece of cloth in a tightly balled fist and turned back.
ooc - Sorry this took so long to get up! And for tl;dring on you. I'll do better with the replies. :')
What: Marco Polo
Where: That building where Things Happened.
When: Now. After this.
When did things get so messed up?
Nothing seemed real since Ganta left Deadman Wonderland. Maybe he never had. It sure didn't feel like they escaped anything. The pain in his chest had only gotten worse in the past few days, and his heart hadn't seemed to slow down since he saw Nagi's last transmission. Like that wasn't bad enough, now the city was a giant mirror. Running down the glass covered streets, he kept jumping at his own reflection, and he still couldn't shake the feeling that he was being followed. Ganta didn't have time to wonder. Karako and all the other people in DW who looked to Nagi as their leader, they wouldn't want to see him like that. For them, he had to...
Maybe he shouldn't have gone alone. But twice now he had been selfish and hid what he knew instead of warning everyone. All so they wouldn't know he was a prisoner before he came there. Because of that, people had ended up hurt or killed. Ganta might not stand much of a chance at defeating him on his own, but he wouldn't drag anyone else into his mess.
Or it could be that he was just being stubborn. It was hard for him to tell what the right choices were any more. Even Senji was annoyed with him for being so indecisive. For once he felt like he had to follow through and prove to everyone that he was worth something.
Ganta was out of breath by the time he reached the old warehouse building. He didn't know what he thought he might find there that would lead him to Nagi, but it was the only clue he had.
As he opened the door a waft of warm musky air hit him in the face and he bit at his lip before he built up the courage to enter. He walked forward slowly, stopping once he was a few feet in to find a light. Once he was was inside, Ganta immediately recognized the stench of blood and covered his mouth to fight the bile rising in his throat. It was just as Dai said. The walls, floors, everything was stained.
However long ago that was, the building was empty now. It was totally silent except for his own footfalls as he forced himself to look around. One object caught his eye towards the far end of the room: a crumpled piece of cloth near a murky pool, of what he could only guess, and with a shaking hand he bent down to pick it up. The fabric was cold and tattered, but he knew it was his. Just as recognition dawned, tears threatened to burn down his cheeks and he shut his eyes to keep them from falling.
He shouldn't have come there. What did he think he could do? Shiro had told him. Why did he think he could save anyone? Ganta cursed to himself and gripped the piece of cloth in a tightly balled fist and turned back.
ooc - Sorry this took so long to get up! And for tl;dring on you. I'll do better with the replies. :')