[For a moment he looks startled and stunned, giving Shirou a baffled, deer-in-the-headlights stare that would better suit someone suddenly asked at gunpoint to choose between creamy or chunky peanut butter. Then his gaze drops to the floor and he shrinks back, fingers gripping the doorframe til his knuckles turn white. When he speaks up it's quiet and tense.]
[Shirou attempts a token effort to not stare, but when he has no idea why Diarmuid looks like he's ready to pee himself and rip the door frame out at the same out, he can't really help it. Come on, Shirou, you have to be nice. That's what you do with stray animals, right?]
Are, uh, you okay...? Did you want something to eat?
[Maybe he's just disoriented because he's hungry. 8( ]
[He just has to be sure. After he asks it occurs to him that if Shirou is a hallucination he probably won't admit it, but it's already out of his mouth so instead of taking it back he just tries to steady his breathing.
It's okay. He doesn't need to hurt Shirou. The bubbles aren't real and neither is the whisper telling him that if he doesn't run he'll get stuck.]
[He thinks? Is it okay? It actually sounds pretty...inconvenient? Unfortunate? But Diarmuid probably already knows this, so Shirou tries not to meditate on that for longer than he needs to. ]
Just not something I hear much.
[He pinches himself, just to be sure -- yeah, we're still real. Good job, self, you have not erased yourself from existence yet]
I would hope you wouldn't. One of me is more than enough.
[On the bright side, Shirou's matter-of-fact chipper attitude is soothing Diarmuid's nerves, so finally he comes all the way into the room to peer at the fish.]
[He holds up the fork for a moment, giving Shirou a blank look. It's good to tell people, right? Because hurting them is bad, but hurting people feels good and he's not entirely in control of the urge to do it. So they should know to stay away.
He quietly and daintily picks at his food after he says it, as if it meant nothing, but it was truly a warning and a threat.]
[WELP!!!! He's...not quite sure what to say to that, to be honest. "Could" is different that "will", isn't it? And it's not like Cu would be close to a guy who just runs around gutting people with forks.]
You could, but you won't, right?
[Trying not to make a face. Failing a little, but he's trying.]
[The raised voice makes Diarmuid flinch, and he stops eating to glance warily at Shirou through his lashes. His expression is nervous and as always his face gives him a pleasant, innocent look, but there's a definite stray cat vibe nonetheless.]
The more you talk, the more I see your skin peeling off.
[He was telling the truth. The more he looks at Shirou and hears his voice, the more he sees his body falling apart and hears him dying. It's been too long since he spilled blood, perhaps. Or maybe it's just that he's afraid, and the more frightened he gets the more he wants to lash out in self-defense.
Yeah, that's it. Shirou's voice is getting louder, and Diarmuid is beginning to panic. Suddenly he leans over the table, grabbing the front of Shirou's shirt and smiling the crooked smile of the desperately nervous.]
If I popped your eyeball out and let it hang by the nerve, the angry voice might stop. But that would be bad, right? So can I just put in tiny holes...
Like this?
[And by "this" he means "slamming that fork into Shirou's arm with stabbing force".]
[That initial shout from Shirou is all it takes to break the spell of that violent voice. The blood in his vision is quickly replaced by startling bright lights, and a shrieking siren sound that makes him clamp his hands over his ears as he scrambles away from the table.]
I'm sorry--
[He spits it out without thinking, backing towards the door as if he expects Shirou to come at him at any moment. Where he was afraid in a quiet, manic way before he is instead afraid in a pale, wide-eyed terror sort of way.]
[He stops when Diarmuid shouts and scrambles away. The moment of pure, chaotic noise startles Shirou, but once Diarmuid's backed away, he manages to compose himself somewhat, eyes going from the fork in his arm, to Diarmuid, and then back again.]
It's...
[Well, it's not really okay but he's not sure what else to say]
It's okay... I just need to, uh--
[Probably pull the fork out. Yeah. We can't go walking around like that. So here we go, taking a deep breath and yanking the fork out as quickly as he can.]
[He flinches when Shirou pulls the fork out of his arm, pressing his hands more tightly over his ears.]
It's not!
[Nothing is okay right now. He messed up. The siren is blaring and there are a million tiny claws pulling at him, reminding him that he must be disciplined. He went out of line, after all. Fear chokes what sense he'd had up to this point, and he shakes his head with a whimper.]
[That's a bad idea. He's already on edge, expecting pain the next time something comes close. Shirou's hand isn't really painful, but he feels a jolt anyway and reacts without thinking.
Shirou may just find himself expertly and automatically thrown across the room. By the time he gets up, D's ducked out of the room, heading for his room where he can barricade himself under the desk and try to contain his terror.]
[Yeah, by the time he manages to remove himself from the tangle of stuff in the corner he lands in, he can't bring himself to do anything but gape a little in the direction Diarmuid left in.
For the record, he's a little too dumbfounded to remember to bandage himself now.]
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earthflames) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
streetwalkers2012-11-07 01:37 am
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...Good morning.
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Are, uh, you okay...? Did you want something to eat?
[Maybe he's just disoriented because he's hungry. 8( ]
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[He just has to be sure. After he asks it occurs to him that if Shirou is a hallucination he probably won't admit it, but it's already out of his mouth so instead of taking it back he just tries to steady his breathing.
It's okay. He doesn't need to hurt Shirou. The bubbles aren't real and neither is the whisper telling him that if he doesn't run he'll get stuck.]
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[He sort of reaches over, still giving Diarmuid a confused sort of stare, and grabs a fork, nudging the fish until it rolls over on the grill]
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[He's bitter about that, but he's trying not to take it out on this kid just yet. It's not his fault after all, and Diarmuid is hungry.]
I'm sorry.
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[He thinks? Is it okay? It actually sounds pretty...inconvenient? Unfortunate? But Diarmuid probably already knows this, so Shirou tries not to meditate on that for longer than he needs to. ]
Just not something I hear much.
[He pinches himself, just to be sure -- yeah, we're still real. Good job, self, you have not erased yourself from existence yet]
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[On the bright side, Shirou's matter-of-fact chipper attitude is soothing Diarmuid's nerves, so finally he comes all the way into the room to peer at the fish.]
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I dunno, you seem all right.
[He shuffles away from the fish for a moment to hunt down two plates and the remnants of a loaf of bread]
Sorry all this is kinda plain. I can get something better for tomorrow.
[The fish is clumsily forked in half before being nudged onto a plate and handed to Diarmuid]
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[He holds up the fork for a moment, giving Shirou a blank look. It's good to tell people, right? Because hurting them is bad, but hurting people feels good and he's not entirely in control of the urge to do it. So they should know to stay away.
He quietly and daintily picks at his food after he says it, as if it meant nothing, but it was truly a warning and a threat.]
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You could, but you won't, right?
[Trying not to make a face. Failing a little, but he's trying.]
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You...really shouldn't. I haven't done anything, right? You can't just stab someone who was making breakfast!
[He raises his voice, maybe a little, because the confusion and the vague panic is beginning to mix a bit]
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The more you talk, the more I see your skin peeling off.
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[He was telling the truth. The more he looks at Shirou and hears his voice, the more he sees his body falling apart and hears him dying. It's been too long since he spilled blood, perhaps. Or maybe it's just that he's afraid, and the more frightened he gets the more he wants to lash out in self-defense.
Yeah, that's it. Shirou's voice is getting louder, and Diarmuid is beginning to panic. Suddenly he leans over the table, grabbing the front of Shirou's shirt and smiling the crooked smile of the desperately nervous.]
If I popped your eyeball out and let it hang by the nerve, the angry voice might stop. But that would be bad, right? So can I just put in tiny holes...
Like this?
[And by "this" he means "slamming that fork into Shirou's arm with stabbing force".]
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It fucking hurts?! LIKE A LOT? And his first instinct is to yell at Diarmuid]
What are you doing?! Y-You can't--
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I'm sorry--
[He spits it out without thinking, backing towards the door as if he expects Shirou to come at him at any moment. Where he was afraid in a quiet, manic way before he is instead afraid in a pale, wide-eyed terror sort of way.]
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It's...
[Well, it's not really okay but he's not sure what else to say]
It's okay... I just need to, uh--
[Probably pull the fork out. Yeah. We can't go walking around like that. So here we go, taking a deep breath and yanking the fork out as quickly as he can.]
Shit.
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It's not!
[Nothing is okay right now. He messed up. The siren is blaring and there are a million tiny claws pulling at him, reminding him that he must be disciplined. He went out of line, after all. Fear chokes what sense he'd had up to this point, and he shakes his head with a whimper.]
I have to go.
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Y-You don't have to, I just need bandages, I've had worse.
[tries to go pat Diarmuid on the shoulder reassuringly on his way to find the first aid kit]
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Shirou may just find himself expertly and automatically thrown across the room. By the time he gets up, D's ducked out of the room, heading for his room where he can barricade himself under the desk and try to contain his terror.]
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For the record, he's a little too dumbfounded to remember to bandage himself now.]