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[ooc] HMD
Hurt me, bbs. -
[ooc]
This journal's being recycled. Old AU information is as follows:
( Read more... ) -
[private]
Light didn't move for a couple of days, after that. Well, more or less. Sometimes one need or another would prod him towards the bathroom - water, or the toilet - and then he'd curl right back up beneath his quilt, and drift back off into sleep. The broken mirror gave him nightmares, and so did she ( Read more... ) -
[private]
It's been a few hours. No, the tea didn't help; he's nervous, twitchy, can't keep still. Obviously the thing to do is wall himself up in a kitchen and cook with ridiculous amounts of onions.
[[OOC: private to stripesandheels. Adult content further down.]] -
[private] as we explore the carnal score of sacred and profane.
Light is, for reasons of his own, spread out in a chair in the music room. He's surrounded by rhythm instruments - drums, castanets, spoons - but looks a million miles away, and isn't playing any particular one. Reaching out, he taps a tambourine; all the little bells chatter.
Also, his hair is bright blue.
[[OOC: private to stripesandheels.]] -
[private]
It's another day, another kitchen - the first one Light was able to find, which happens to be on the sixth floor; finding his stolen room again will be a trial. He isn't taking any better care of himself - his tracksuit hangs about him, loose and dirty, patterned in that ridiculous hospital paisley nobody would ever wear, why did the mansion insist ( Read more... ) -
[private]
It's been a few days since Light vanished into a random bedroom, determined there to stay until he felt himself again. Unfortunately, his logic and reasoning are all heavily skewed sideways. Which is why he's standing against one of the kitchen counters in a loose tracksuit, poking at a cup noodle with which he seems displeased. His hair is limp, ( Read more... ) -
[private]
Light makes absurd promises in the middle of the night, and never intends to keep any of them. However, there's a first time for everything, which is why he's dragging himself through one kitchen after another looking for peaches.
[[OOC: private to first_successor.]] -
[private]
Clocks and watches being what they are in the mansion, it's impossible to get any more accurate than "the middle of the night". Light is fast asleep on the floor of his own room, wrapped in spare blankets and sheets, curled on some futon's poor relation that pulled out of a bag ( Read more... )