streetwalkers | YAN-PARA au master post

[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.]

Maybe. I might. I don't know.

[Oh. UHM...WELL...]

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]

[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.

W-What the hell is that supposed to mean?!

They told you I'm ill, didn't they?

[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".]

[The fork sticks in his arm, and Shirou shouts before tripping into the table. He catches himself there, leaning as he clutches his arm.

It fucking hurts?! LIKE A LOT? And his first instinct is to yell at Diarmuid]

What are you doing?! Y-You can't--

[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.]

Shit.

[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.]

I have to go.

[STARES AT DIARMUID, BLOOD POURING DOWN HIS ARM]

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]

[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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