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dgray_man2009-07-26 10:55 pm
pliash.livejournal.com) wrote in dgray_man2009-07-26 10:55 pm
Entry tags:
My white elephant? Completely un-betaed fanfiction. *A*
*First timer*
No, really. I'm been active in the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
allen_rabi community for about a month now, but I haven't done anything so far within the general D.Gray-man community and might not have done so for a little while longer.
However, my brain just doesn't feel like concentrating on studying today (despite exams coming up in, like, five days *FLAIL*), and I ended up writing a short Allen-centric snippet that I just had to post for whatever reason.
Second note: I haven't written fanfiction in FOUR YEARS. Actually, it's more like five years, now. I am not joking, peoples. And I decided that I wanted to write for Laven week? *kicks herself* Anyway, if you have any comments, I'd be happy to accept them; if you have any criticism, same goes--just don't rail on me too much, m'kay ^~?
He hated this.
It wasn’t fair.
“This isn’t right.”
He murmurs the words over and over, his voice scarcely audible, muffled by the sudden constriction of his throat and the numbness threatening to overwhelm his senses.
flesh tearing off skeleton breaking down muscle stripping from bones snapping white
It’s in his head; it’s running through his mind relentlessly, pouring out from the worst of times: Master being surrounded by these machines—and smirking, and laughing, and shooting them down, one after another, his cigarettes lying on the ground, ashes still burning and smoke on cement—and Allen huddling behind him, shadows on his face.
Nagil is smiling at him--a soft, sweet smile that cannot have come from a child beaten down by a merciless world; it is mechanical—the pale, painted lips of a doll sitting on a factory shelf, ready for play and starved for love.
red blood dark blank eyes rolling back twist sense gnash snarl shriek
He can hear bones cracking, hips caving, legs splintering to pieces and reconstructing back into long, thick wires that hoist the wretched body into the air, accommodating the crude protrusions bursting their way out of skin like cannons at the ready.
The veins around the eyes bulge about the sockets, and black oil runs down the face, dripping off the tip of the chin like bloody tears.
Ripped cloth scatters along the beach, the hot wind blows harshly against his body, and he can hear her screaming.
It’s in his head; it’s not real.
It can’t be real.
Yet, a wild hiss grips the sandy air, and Allen feels the mangled laughter squeezing itself out of Nagil’s chest. If he looks up now, he will see her, chained to a contorted mask of ashen vines, glassy tears trickling eternally down her face as her twisted mouth screeches sorrow behind the wires stitched upon her mouth.
He’s seen it all before. He never wants to see it like this. Please, God, let this be only a nightmare.
Yet, a murderous intent is pulsating before him, and he feels himself choke at the intensity. He can’t look, but he can’t look away. Nagil still looks human, so it can’t be true. Even if the black and white glaring from his left eye screens a soul shackled, melting into a body with fear and rage spouting from every pore.
He hates this.
“What are you waiting for, stupid apprentice?”
Nagil smiles again, the grinding of metal limbs reverberating into the dusty afternoon, and Allen feels a prickling of tears beginning to emerge.
“You’re not going to save anyone if you just stand there, if that’s what you’re thinking. Stop stalling, idiot—he’ll kill you. And I won’t give a fuck once he does.”
“Shut up.” His voice is so weak, even in his own ears, and he hates it.
The last thing he remembers is the smell of iron, the acidic taste of smoke and bullets, and the crumbling dust of what was once a human body.
He feels her words calling out to him as she passes into the bleeding skies, the heavy footsteps of his Master walking away, and the soft cries of the birds above.
He sobs quietly into his hands.
***
*headdesk* Yep. I just started re-reading the manga (meaning, I watched all of the suck that was the anime (I'm kidding, but the ending was beyond terrible), which then inspired me to return to the manga) and came across Jean/John's question in 2nd Night--it's actually been stewing in my head for a few weeks; I just never got around to working with it.
I'm actually thinking of writing equivalents for Lavi (actually, his is already done. Kinda. I'm going to look it over), Kanda, and Lenalee.
By the way, is "Nagil" even the right name? I vaguely remember it being something along those lines, but I'm too lazy to slog through all the anime episodes to figure it out (GAH). It's been a while, so I'm not sure if "Nagil" was Allen's first "kill," but I thought 'what the hell, I'll go along with it.'
When I was thinking over that question, I ended up wondering what it would be like to watch the human "skin" transform into the machine. I thought it would be a very gory, traumatic experience that just isn't conveyed very often (the whole "toxic gas from the corpse" seems to be downplayed most of the time, as well), especially in fanfic. This ended up going off in a different direction, so my apologies if this was all too over-the-top. *bows*
It's near midnight, now, so I'mgoing to waste more time heading off to bed. Nighties, y'all :)
No, really. I'm been active in the
allen_rabi community for about a month now, but I haven't done anything so far within the general D.Gray-man community and might not have done so for a little while longer.However, my brain just doesn't feel like concentrating on studying today (despite exams coming up in, like, five days *FLAIL*), and I ended up writing a short Allen-centric snippet that I just had to post for whatever reason.
Second note: I haven't written fanfiction in FOUR YEARS. Actually, it's more like five years, now. I am not joking, peoples. And I decided that I wanted to write for Laven week? *kicks herself* Anyway, if you have any comments, I'd be happy to accept them; if you have any criticism, same goes--just don't rail on me too much, m'kay ^~?
He hated this.
It wasn’t fair.
“This isn’t right.”
He murmurs the words over and over, his voice scarcely audible, muffled by the sudden constriction of his throat and the numbness threatening to overwhelm his senses.
flesh tearing off skeleton breaking down muscle stripping from bones snapping white
It’s in his head; it’s running through his mind relentlessly, pouring out from the worst of times: Master being surrounded by these machines—and smirking, and laughing, and shooting them down, one after another, his cigarettes lying on the ground, ashes still burning and smoke on cement—and Allen huddling behind him, shadows on his face.
Nagil is smiling at him--a soft, sweet smile that cannot have come from a child beaten down by a merciless world; it is mechanical—the pale, painted lips of a doll sitting on a factory shelf, ready for play and starved for love.
red blood dark blank eyes rolling back twist sense gnash snarl shriek
He can hear bones cracking, hips caving, legs splintering to pieces and reconstructing back into long, thick wires that hoist the wretched body into the air, accommodating the crude protrusions bursting their way out of skin like cannons at the ready.
The veins around the eyes bulge about the sockets, and black oil runs down the face, dripping off the tip of the chin like bloody tears.
Ripped cloth scatters along the beach, the hot wind blows harshly against his body, and he can hear her screaming.
It’s in his head; it’s not real.
It can’t be real.
Yet, a wild hiss grips the sandy air, and Allen feels the mangled laughter squeezing itself out of Nagil’s chest. If he looks up now, he will see her, chained to a contorted mask of ashen vines, glassy tears trickling eternally down her face as her twisted mouth screeches sorrow behind the wires stitched upon her mouth.
He’s seen it all before. He never wants to see it like this. Please, God, let this be only a nightmare.
Yet, a murderous intent is pulsating before him, and he feels himself choke at the intensity. He can’t look, but he can’t look away. Nagil still looks human, so it can’t be true. Even if the black and white glaring from his left eye screens a soul shackled, melting into a body with fear and rage spouting from every pore.
He hates this.
“What are you waiting for, stupid apprentice?”
Nagil smiles again, the grinding of metal limbs reverberating into the dusty afternoon, and Allen feels a prickling of tears beginning to emerge.
“You’re not going to save anyone if you just stand there, if that’s what you’re thinking. Stop stalling, idiot—he’ll kill you. And I won’t give a fuck once he does.”
“Shut up.” His voice is so weak, even in his own ears, and he hates it.
The last thing he remembers is the smell of iron, the acidic taste of smoke and bullets, and the crumbling dust of what was once a human body.
He feels her words calling out to him as she passes into the bleeding skies, the heavy footsteps of his Master walking away, and the soft cries of the birds above.
He sobs quietly into his hands.
***
*headdesk* Yep. I just started re-reading the manga (meaning, I watched all of the suck that was the anime (I'm kidding, but the ending was beyond terrible), which then inspired me to return to the manga) and came across Jean/John's question in 2nd Night--it's actually been stewing in my head for a few weeks; I just never got around to working with it.
I'm actually thinking of writing equivalents for Lavi (actually, his is already done. Kinda. I'm going to look it over), Kanda, and Lenalee.
By the way, is "Nagil" even the right name? I vaguely remember it being something along those lines, but I'm too lazy to slog through all the anime episodes to figure it out (GAH). It's been a while, so I'm not sure if "Nagil" was Allen's first "kill," but I thought 'what the hell, I'll go along with it.'
When I was thinking over that question, I ended up wondering what it would be like to watch the human "skin" transform into the machine. I thought it would be a very gory, traumatic experience that just isn't conveyed very often (the whole "toxic gas from the corpse" seems to be downplayed most of the time, as well), especially in fanfic. This ended up going off in a different direction, so my apologies if this was all too over-the-top. *bows*
It's near midnight, now, so I'm
Rei
(Anonymous) 2009-10-20 01:53 am (UTC)(link)