[The static's back, obscuring most of the message, but not the tone of Stein's voice, or the glare of snow and rubble. He's not really holding the tablet in a way that makes much sense, or in a way that seems intended to show any part of his face. It's just sort of there, just clutched in a fabric-wrapped hand.
His words still have that rapid speed, that manic edge he's rarely been free of for the hundred and seven days he's been in this frozen hellhole. But there's something else, something he doesn't ever want his students to hear from him. He's the teacher, the adult. His voice is full of sheer panic.]
[Kid wants to help. He may pretend, always, to be a composed and distant grim reaper--but the fact of the matter is that Death the Kid is a sensitive child who genuinely wants to do the right thing.
Panicking because one of those listless gray orbs is attempting to climb up the Professor's arm and does not, in any way, qualify.]
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ y▒▒ ▒▒▒▒ to ▒▒▒ ins▒▒▒▒! [Don't panic, don't panic. Those little orbs, listless with the strange eyes--they aren't real. He knows that. You know that.
Stein's soul looks wrong.
He feels sick.] Do y▒▒ ▒▒e tho▒▒▒ lost ▒▒ls?! ▒▒▒▒'re ev▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
[In the hours (and single conversation) since reviving, Stein has realized he's apparently incapable of holding himself back. Everything flitting through his mind comes out in words and he can't stop it, can't remember how to put in the effort to try, can't recognize that it's happening until it's already happened. As revival effects go, it's obnoxious. But even with his awareness of his current condition, he's still somewhat startled to realize the hysterical, broken laughter flooding his ears is coming from him.
His fault. It's all his fault. The realization burns in his fading soul like spontaneous combustion, flares guilt and madness and he's laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all, the complete lack of understanding or control. The hubris of believing he could do anything, that he's ever been able to do anything, that his actions matter in the vast uncaring universe. It's all boiling out of him as he's on his knees in the snow, hands scrabbling in frozen whiteness for the dropped tablet, laughter and desperate apologies.
The static catches and covers everything except scraps of ragged sound.]
[The static takes a reprieve, long enough for Kid to revel in the full impact of just what he is witnessing.
Stein. A gifted, brilliant meister and self-trained physician who was an invaluable asset to the Academy, and who was by far his greatest ally here. Who Kid has grudgingly learned to respect and even trust. Who only just was revived after sacrificing his life for his student's. Stein, who Kid understood more than most, suffered from and was susceptible to the madness around him. And here was said Franken Stein, and all Kid could hear was a manic litany of apologies and strings of terrifying giggles. By now he can see nothing but snow and the occasional desperate swipe of a fabric-wrapped hand searching for the device.
He understood innately that this is what it meant when humans said they were frozen in fear, unable to react. A terrified sob threatened to choke him and he refused to allow it. Kid clamped his eyes shut, closed so tightly no flicker of any image of any soul could poke through. The screaming only seemed louder; he pressed one hand to his ear and took a steadying breath. Ignore it. Ignore it. It's not real!
There was one single soul to whom Stein had always listened, and he was not here.
But his heir was.]
Stein! [The harsh authoritativeness of his tone startled even him, but he didn't dare think about it now, not while he had panic welling so deeply in his stomach and such an enormous role to pretend he could fill.] ▒▒▒ ▒ hold ▒▒ ▒▒▒▒self!
[A foolish teenager, pridefully trying to be his father. He opened one eye and watched as several listless gray souls clamored around Stein's hand at the tablet. It was all he could see. Eyes were shut again, quickly.] Stop ▒▒▒▒ and ▒▒▒▒▒. You are str▒▒▒er ▒▒▒▒ this!
[What would his father say? His father, who he had just failed, as they had failed to prevent the revival of the kishin. His father somehow always knew how exactly to approach a troubled meister or distressed weapon and Kid found himself panicked workout the right words.]
▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒ to focus-- [On what? Who? The distressed orb that represented Stein's soul was so wrong. It wasn't until he had another flash of the meister's face that Kid realized it.
That realization was his last straw. He could not and never would be his father. And his attempts at controlling the situation were futile: he had no control to begin with and there was none to regain. Instead, he almost shouts at the tablet in hysterics himself:]
You ca▒▒▒t ▒▒▒▒ outside! ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒r Stein, please! Do ▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒ me?! You ▒▒▒▒ only just-- [Kid has the tablet up, hyperventilating and tears on his face.] ▒▒▒ inside! Move! You--why ▒▒▒▒'t you--why aren't you liste▒▒▒▒?!
[He ends nearly with a shriek. This is going well.] F▒▒▒!! ▒▒▒▒ stay where you are! I--▒▒--▒▒ co▒▒▒g to ▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒!
[Abruptly, the feed shuts off.]
Edited (So many typeos so many little mistakes huff) 2016-09-30 03:47 (UTC)
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equal_shots) wrote2016-05-06 12:48 am
@dissect | video | just before lockdown 162
His words still have that rapid speed, that manic edge he's rarely been free of for the hundred and seven days he's been in this frozen hellhole. But there's something else, something he doesn't ever want his students to hear from him. He's the teacher, the adult. His voice is full of sheer panic.]
▒▒▒eed you to re▒▒▒▒▒
@Kid, video - yeah for 2/6 aka almost all static
Panicking because one of those listless gray orbs is attempting to climb up the Professor's arm and does not, in any way, qualify.]
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ y▒▒ ▒▒▒▒ to ▒▒▒ ins▒▒▒▒! [Don't panic, don't panic. Those little orbs, listless with the strange eyes--they aren't real. He knows that. You know that.
Stein's soul looks wrong.
He feels sick.] Do y▒▒ ▒▒e tho▒▒▒ lost ▒▒ls?! ▒▒▒▒'re ev▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
oops there's a breakdown happening here
His fault. It's all his fault. The realization burns in his fading soul like spontaneous combustion, flares guilt and madness and he's laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all, the complete lack of understanding or control. The hubris of believing he could do anything, that he's ever been able to do anything, that his actions matter in the vast uncaring universe. It's all boiling out of him as he's on his knees in the snow, hands scrabbling in frozen whiteness for the dropped tablet, laughter and desperate apologies.
The static catches and covers everything except scraps of ragged sound.]
Here is a novel. I'm sorry. I got carried away
Stein. A gifted, brilliant meister and self-trained physician who was an invaluable asset to the Academy, and who was by far his greatest ally here. Who Kid has grudgingly learned to respect and even trust. Who only just was revived after sacrificing his life for his student's. Stein, who Kid understood more than most, suffered from and was susceptible to the madness around him. And here was said Franken Stein, and all Kid could hear was a manic litany of apologies and strings of terrifying giggles. By now he can see nothing but snow and the occasional desperate swipe of a fabric-wrapped hand searching for the device.
He understood innately that this is what it meant when humans said they were frozen in fear, unable to react. A terrified sob threatened to choke him and he refused to allow it. Kid clamped his eyes shut, closed so tightly no flicker of any image of any soul could poke through. The screaming only seemed louder; he pressed one hand to his ear and took a steadying breath. Ignore it. Ignore it. It's not real!
There was one single soul to whom Stein had always listened, and he was not here.
But his heir was.]
Stein! [The harsh authoritativeness of his tone startled even him, but he didn't dare think about it now, not while he had panic welling so deeply in his stomach and such an enormous role to pretend he could fill.] ▒▒▒ ▒ hold ▒▒ ▒▒▒▒self!
[A foolish teenager, pridefully trying to be his father. He opened one eye and watched as several listless gray souls clamored around Stein's hand at the tablet. It was all he could see. Eyes were shut again, quickly.] Stop ▒▒▒▒ and ▒▒▒▒▒. You are str▒▒▒er ▒▒▒▒ this!
[What would his father say? His father, who he had just failed, as they had failed to prevent the revival of the kishin. His father somehow always knew how exactly to approach a troubled meister or distressed weapon and Kid found himself panicked workout the right words.]
▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒ to focus-- [On what? Who? The distressed orb that represented Stein's soul was so wrong. It wasn't until he had another flash of the meister's face that Kid realized it.
That realization was his last straw. He could not and never would be his father. And his attempts at controlling the situation were futile: he had no control to begin with and there was none to regain. Instead, he almost shouts at the tablet in hysterics himself:]
You ca▒▒▒t ▒▒▒▒ outside! ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒r Stein, please! Do ▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒ me?! You ▒▒▒▒ only just-- [Kid has the tablet up, hyperventilating and tears on his face.] ▒▒▒ inside! Move! You--why ▒▒▒▒'t you--why aren't you liste▒▒▒▒?!
[He ends nearly with a shriek. This is going well.] F▒▒▒!! ▒▒▒▒ stay where you are! I--▒▒--▒▒ co▒▒▒g to ▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒!
[Abruptly, the feed shuts off.]
no subject