Edgar Roni Figaro (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
girlsandgadgets) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
damned_institute2013-04-17 12:33 pm
girlsandgadgets) wrote in damned_institute2013-04-17 12:33 pm
Day 70: North Street (Noon)
Not particularly hungry despite the time of day, Edgar decided to keep inspecting the stores, enjoying whatever freedom he could find in Doyleton. It wasn't much: while away from the prying eyes of the nurses, his questionable clothing and status as a patient of Landel's drew the attention of the residents of the town, and as usual, they didn't seem terribly thrilled to deal with their visitors. At least the weather was pleasant, a nice shift from the bitter cold it had been several nights before. It was still a far cry from the heat of the desert winds and the fiery forge of his homeland- it wasn't sure he'd ever fully adjust.
Even if there had been a chill, he'd have been kept warm by the fire in his chest, the blood of the Esper still scorching him from the inside out. It had been on his mind all morning, brought back to the surface with the thoughts of the Coliseum and the fight that awaited them, should they ever manage to gain access. Would he be fighting? And if so, would he be able to control the magic he'd had forced upon him? He wasn't one to doubt himself often, but it had happened once already- his skin was still healing from the burns he'd acquired earlier in the week, the bandages having receded to cover only those wounds under his clothing. His hands were scarred over, but a dull ache ran through them every now and then, reminding him of just how mortal he was.
What hadn't healed was his pride, guilt still knotting its way onto his features when he looked at his hands- Locke had died because of him.
As would someone else, should Ryuuzaki's knowledge of the Coliseum prove true. There was no way to know who would fight, who would lose, and who would have to go through the temporary death and whatever consequences come from it. Edgar's sense of self-preservation was usually high: the people of Figaro were strong, but they ultimately depended on him, needed his leadership to survive.
However, if the death truly was temporary, as Ryuuzaki said, then he knew he'd be the best suited for dealing with whatever came afterward. He'd been through worse, surely. The end of the world was fairly hard to top. Besides that, he couldn't, in good conscience, let a woman suffer like that, especially those like Lana or Nina, who didn't strike him as hardened warriors.
It wasn't going to be an easy choice, especially if they were all pitted against one another in the ring. He wasn't one to trust what he hadn't seen with his own eyes, but he was willing to put that sort of faith into Ryuuzaki for now. His help had been invaluable; Edgar owed him that much.
Stopping in front of the antique store, Edgar brushed his hair back as the wind blew and considered going in. He recognized the view through the windows immediately, the large tiger inside hard to forget, especially when he'd first seen it almost immediately after his fight with the catlike abomination in the basement. Between that creature and Locke's appearance as a coeurl, Edgar had to admit he didn't seem to be having much luck with cats at Landel's.
[Free]
Even if there had been a chill, he'd have been kept warm by the fire in his chest, the blood of the Esper still scorching him from the inside out. It had been on his mind all morning, brought back to the surface with the thoughts of the Coliseum and the fight that awaited them, should they ever manage to gain access. Would he be fighting? And if so, would he be able to control the magic he'd had forced upon him? He wasn't one to doubt himself often, but it had happened once already- his skin was still healing from the burns he'd acquired earlier in the week, the bandages having receded to cover only those wounds under his clothing. His hands were scarred over, but a dull ache ran through them every now and then, reminding him of just how mortal he was.
What hadn't healed was his pride, guilt still knotting its way onto his features when he looked at his hands- Locke had died because of him.
As would someone else, should Ryuuzaki's knowledge of the Coliseum prove true. There was no way to know who would fight, who would lose, and who would have to go through the temporary death and whatever consequences come from it. Edgar's sense of self-preservation was usually high: the people of Figaro were strong, but they ultimately depended on him, needed his leadership to survive.
However, if the death truly was temporary, as Ryuuzaki said, then he knew he'd be the best suited for dealing with whatever came afterward. He'd been through worse, surely. The end of the world was fairly hard to top. Besides that, he couldn't, in good conscience, let a woman suffer like that, especially those like Lana or Nina, who didn't strike him as hardened warriors.
It wasn't going to be an easy choice, especially if they were all pitted against one another in the ring. He wasn't one to trust what he hadn't seen with his own eyes, but he was willing to put that sort of faith into Ryuuzaki for now. His help had been invaluable; Edgar owed him that much.
Stopping in front of the antique store, Edgar brushed his hair back as the wind blew and considered going in. He recognized the view through the windows immediately, the large tiger inside hard to forget, especially when he'd first seen it almost immediately after his fight with the catlike abomination in the basement. Between that creature and Locke's appearance as a coeurl, Edgar had to admit he didn't seem to be having much luck with cats at Landel's.
[Free]
no subject
Having made his way down Main Street, Guy decided to loop up to the north end of town. He realized it would be easy for him and Luke to miss each other if they were both walking around, but he had his fingers crossed nonetheless.
It was when Guy was about halfway down the street heading back in the direction where the buses had parked that he spotted a familiar face. Not the one he'd been hoping to find, but he didn't want to simply ignore Edgar either. The man looked like he was lost in thought, and so Guy approached slowly, making sure he was in Edgar's line of sight before he spoke up.
"It's been a while," he said as he looked Edgar over, odd clothing and all. Guy realized he could have had it worse. "How've you been holding up?" He still needed to ask him about Locke after their brief exchange on the bulletin the other day, but he didn't want to get into that immediately. Not when he knew it was bound to be a difficult subject.
no subject
"Not as well as I'd like," he replied lightly and truthfully, extending his hand to Guy to show exactly what he meant by that: the scars from the burns ran up his palm and disappeared into his sleeve. "But I'm alive. I suppose that'd make me one of the more fortunate patients these days."
It certainly made him more fortunate that Locke; Edgar knew he'd have some explaining to do regarding the treasure hunter soon enough. He'd promised Guy that much, given the two were roommates.
"And yourself?"
no subject
It seemed like every time that he spoke to Edgar lately, things weren't going well. Seeing how Locke was gone and the two of them had apparently been friends, though... well, the point was it was understandable.
"Things have been going pretty well on my end. Better than a few days ago, anyway." He was willing to share his good fortune with Edgar as well, just as he had with Edward, but he wanted to get the unpleasant part of the conversation out of the way first, especially since they already seemed to be dancing around it.
"So... you said you could explain what happened to Locke?" he asked after a moment of hesitation. "We can find somewhere to sit down and talk about it, if that's easier."
no subject
At least not everyone seemed to be stuck in some limbo, as Guy indicated things were going better for him. Edgar had to remind himself from time to time that even if he wasn't in the party making progress, there was someone who was. As someone who liked to take matters into his own hands, it was hard to be in a position where he couldn't see the fruits of their labor, know what results the other patients were getting to know if they were even on the right track. Guy had been helpful, willing to share information; many patients were not nearly so charitable, or they simply couldn't be, if what Ryuuzaki had said about those who had been to the Coliseum was true.
He jerked his head toward the far end of the street, a motion for Guy to follow him. "He was the infected I mentioned when we last spoke," he started, deciding not to avoid the topic any longer.
no subject
It didn't take long for Edgar to touch at the heart of what had happened to his friend and Guy's roommate. It was just as Guy had suspected, which was that Locke must have been ill. That obviously hadn't been resolved as easily for some as it had been for Claude and Anise.
Guy followed after Edgar, clearing his throat as he tried to find the right words to console him. But what could really be said in a situation like this? "I'm sorry, Edgar," he started, but it felt hollow when he said it. The thought of having to cut down a friend was so painful that it actually caused a pang in his chest. "I didn't know him that well, but I think... he would rather this, than he end up hurting people he cares about." Guy was sure that Edgar already knew that, but it might help to hear it from someone else.