Draco Malfoy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hisdarkmark) wrote2012-11-20 08:57 pm
hisdarkmark) wrote2012-11-20 08:57 pm
Entry tags:
Fortieth Hex - [Written/Action]
[When he first opens his eyes, he's immediately blinded by the sunlight and he hisses loudly, rolling over in the dirt to shield his eyes. He doesn't move for a moment, barely bothering to take in what was going on. It was obvious he was back. His clothes were still torn and disgusting from the last draft, and he had a few dried scabs on his arms, but otherwise...he seemed fine.
Sitting up, he gropes around the area for his journal to check the date.
Shit. Just how long was death supposed to last in this place? He supposed it wasn't too entirely unusual, considering how long Arumat was gone when he had been murdered. He adjusts himself on the ground, shifting the way he's sitting and reaching in his pocket for a pen. The writing is scratchy and scrawled, but the words are legible.]
So that's what it's like.
[He doesn't care. He doesn't care to read through everything and find out what he's missed. He's on his feet and carefully walking toward house 25, already knowing that Tsuzuki and Hisoka were waiting for him and most likely could kill him again for being dead for so long.
The thing was, however, was that he couldn't figure it out. He couldn't seem to wrap his mind around what he's lost as a penalty. Maybe he got lucky and they didn't take anything at all. That would be nice, wouldn't it? But it seemed highly unlikely, especially considering the nagging in the back of his mind that something was missing. He'd just have to work it out later.
Hmm...hello house 26. You seem awfully familiar, and not in the way that it was the house some of Draco's friends live in now. He used to spend a lot of time in that house, didn't he?
No. Maybe not. He couldn't imagine why he would...must be mistaken.
It isn't until he's almost at his front door that he takes his journal again, scrawling out a few more words.]
...am I the last one to come back then? Suppose they really do save the best for the end.
[ooc: Death penalty explained briefly here]
Sitting up, he gropes around the area for his journal to check the date.
Shit. Just how long was death supposed to last in this place? He supposed it wasn't too entirely unusual, considering how long Arumat was gone when he had been murdered. He adjusts himself on the ground, shifting the way he's sitting and reaching in his pocket for a pen. The writing is scratchy and scrawled, but the words are legible.]
So that's what it's like.
[He doesn't care. He doesn't care to read through everything and find out what he's missed. He's on his feet and carefully walking toward house 25, already knowing that Tsuzuki and Hisoka were waiting for him and most likely could kill him again for being dead for so long.
The thing was, however, was that he couldn't figure it out. He couldn't seem to wrap his mind around what he's lost as a penalty. Maybe he got lucky and they didn't take anything at all. That would be nice, wouldn't it? But it seemed highly unlikely, especially considering the nagging in the back of his mind that something was missing. He'd just have to work it out later.
Hmm...hello house 26. You seem awfully familiar, and not in the way that it was the house some of Draco's friends live in now. He used to spend a lot of time in that house, didn't he?
No. Maybe not. He couldn't imagine why he would...must be mistaken.
It isn't until he's almost at his front door that he takes his journal again, scrawling out a few more words.]
...am I the last one to come back then? Suppose they really do save the best for the end.
[ooc: Death penalty explained briefly here]
[ written ]
...he had value. He had loads of value! Who the hell do the bloody Malnosso think they are devaluing a Malfoy?]
Depressing, sure, but then how come I can't figure out what it is that's missing?
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Who the hell needs sea--oh. Oh.Right. I suppose if one spends most of his time on land now one wouldn't notice....Katniss told me about what she's lost, and she also didn't realize it until the time came. At first I wondered if it was my magic. They've done that before, you know. Right before another draft, too. They sent me out there without being able to use my wand or anything, but that's not it. I can still cast spells and Apparate and the like. I can still talk. I'm not a ferret. So maybe whatever it is really isn't that important.
Or maybe I really don't have as much value as I thought. Considering how easily I could be murdered at home, that's poss[No Draco, no admitting that to the vampire slayer.] I'd like to know how they determine what we lose in the first place.[ written ]
Well. Have you eaten yet?
[ trust her -- the question will make sense in a moment. maybe.
hopefully. ]
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[ andrew. poor andrew who she'd slayed. no -- killed. but she hadn't known him at the time... ]
But I guess you'd never know, really. After all -- you're already British.
[ and we all know the british have no taste. ]
[ written ]
I can taste some of the dirt that managed to get in my mouth. Unfortunately I have to rule that out. Though lactose tolerance seems somewhat disconcerting as well...granted, I don't really like milk in the first place, but it sounds aggravating.
A friend of mine lost all feeling in the left side of her body if I recall correctly. That's not it either. I can feel everything.
[A pause.]
...Buffy. [And it's strange still, writing her first name instead of the surname.] It doesn't always have to be physical, does it?
[ written ]
but with draco it's always...
she takes her pencil up once again: ] No. It definitely doesn't. They can muck up our synapses as well as our senses. Why? Is there anything you--
You know who you are. You know who I am. But there could be...gaps.
[ written ]
"Gaps"? I'm not sure. I know who you are, and obviously I know who I am. I'd have to be an idiot not to know. And I know who everyone else is that has spoken to me so far, so I don't think...what other kinds of gaps could there be?
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I'm not sure that's the same. I remember things that have happened here since I've arrived in Luceti. I remember drafts and experiments and meeting people and the like. Giles lost absolutely everything, didn't he?
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Think back. Try to account for every year. Giles lost things from before ever coming here. The first three years I'd known him for.
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[But he thinks.] ...I'm not sure what I could be forgetting.
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Look through your journal. Old entries. They might have clues.
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[ she pauses in her writing. ] The penalties aren't a price they name. They get them too, when they die here. So I don't think any goal of theirs has anything to do with it. You're what's been altered -- not the books or the other people or anything like that.
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It'll be up to you to decide whether you're better off knowing or not. No one else can make that choice for you. Take all the time you need.
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but wouldn't that be cruel? especially if he didn't yet know what he wanted.
so: ] If things get really dire, I find that the occasional white wine spritzer helps.
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My bar. Good Spirits.[ written ]
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