Fon Master Ion (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
distressedude) wrote2013-03-09 11:09 pm
distressedude) wrote2013-03-09 11:09 pm
028 ~ [Action/Voice]
[ Friday Afternoon - House One ]
[Ever since the day Asch had to carry Ion home after he fell in the middle of the street, he's slowly come to a realization. For the past few days, the duration of time in which Ion was able to stand had only grown shorter and shorter. He can't stand at all without assistance, and that assistance essentially amounts to someone holding him up while his legs hang there, limply. Stairs have quickly become an impossible obstacle for him to overcome, forcing him to relocate to the spare room on the first floor. Now, with a pillow over his face, he laid in bed -- wishing he could fall back asleep so he would have an excuse not to call someone for help in getting up. He wasn't hungry, and in truth he just had no reason to get up and out of bed.]
[He wasn't going to get better. There was no known cure.]
[But that line of thinking wouldn't get him anywhere. It wasn't going to help him get better, and it wouldn't help him face the reality of what's happening to him. He hadn't even told anyone in the House about the diagnosis yet, using his own near-constant fatigue as an excuse to change the subject whenever it came up. And yet he's sure they've noticed something -- a change in him this past week. He hasn't been himself at all, and it seemed like the more he lost the ability to function, the more he lost the ability to care This morning had been no different, with Ion staying in bed well into the afternoon... until he heard something whining softly beside his bed.]
[Peeking out from behind the pillow, he saw the paws and nose of Colonel the puppy, curiously investigating as to why Ion was still in bed at almost 2 in the afternoon. Had someone opened the door for him? Or was he just getting better at getting into every little thing? After another whine and a short bark, Ion reaches out to gently scratch behind his ear, as if to reassure him.]
Did you come to wake me up? I've been awake for awhile now. [His words are met with a puzzled tilt of the head from Colonel.] I'm all right. Just... tired. That's why I'm still in bed, after all.
[With anther whine and a scampering of paws, Colonel bats at the bed again before skittering off to the other side of the room. Folded up by the desk is the wheelchair Ion borrowed from the clinic earlier that week, which has only been used but once. When he turns and barks again, Ion pulls the pillow away from his face and pushes himself upright.]
...what is it? Do you want to play? [An enthusiastic bark.] Why don't you go find Florian? Or Tear? [A whine, and then another bark.] I'm sorry. I can't play with you. [More scampering, and accompanied by a series of loud barks in succession. His patience has worn thin.] Colonel!
[The barking stops. With another soft whine, Colonel lays down and presses his nose to the floor. Ion didn't even realize why until he looked up, seeing the pillow from before in his hand, about to be thrown at the dog. As he lowers the pillow, Colonel perks up immediately and skips back over, paws once more up on the bedside.]
...I'm sorry.
[What was wrong with him? What was he doing?]
I'm so sorry, Colonel.
[It was silly. This was silly. He's already died before. What difference would it make if it happened again?]
I'm sorry... I can't even tell you the truth... can I?
[Since when has he been afraid of death?]
--
[ Saturday - Action / Voice ]
[Today was a new day.]
[For the first time in a long time, Ion got out of bed as soon as he woke up. It took more effort than he'd like to admit, but eventually he leaves his room, wheeling himself along in the wheelchair he borrowed from the clinic. He has only one goal for the day, and that goal is to make today as fundamentally normal for himself as possible. Though still feeling far more tired than usual, without the added strain of trying to force his leg muscles to move, accomplishing that goal actually seems to be within reach.]
[His first stop is the library. It's the place he frequents most often and the trip he knows he'll need to get used to first. Thankfully, these past few weeks of being unable to stand for very long have let him grow accustomed to asking for help reaching the books on the higher shelves. Now, it just means there are a few more rows he needs help with... though on the bright side, the previously inaccessible bottom row was now much easier to reach.]
[From there, he makes his way around to various other parts of the village, sometimes to actually go in but mostly just to get a feel for getting around. The school, Seventh Heaven, the clinic, the plaza... he's not quite brave enough to try venturing much further than that for now, but that was more than enough for one day. He's not exactly a champion of upper-body strength, after all. Before it even starts to get dark, he'll head back to House one.]
--
[Later that night, he pulls out his journal. His voice sounds tired, but his exact mood may be hard to place outside of anyone who knows him very well.]
Perhaps this question is a bit vague... but has anyone ever changed in a way that seemed to be for the worse, only to realize it could potentially be for the better? Not quite a physical change, but... a change in the way you think about certain things.
If you're willing to share, of course.
[Ever since the day Asch had to carry Ion home after he fell in the middle of the street, he's slowly come to a realization. For the past few days, the duration of time in which Ion was able to stand had only grown shorter and shorter. He can't stand at all without assistance, and that assistance essentially amounts to someone holding him up while his legs hang there, limply. Stairs have quickly become an impossible obstacle for him to overcome, forcing him to relocate to the spare room on the first floor. Now, with a pillow over his face, he laid in bed -- wishing he could fall back asleep so he would have an excuse not to call someone for help in getting up. He wasn't hungry, and in truth he just had no reason to get up and out of bed.]
[He wasn't going to get better. There was no known cure.]
[But that line of thinking wouldn't get him anywhere. It wasn't going to help him get better, and it wouldn't help him face the reality of what's happening to him. He hadn't even told anyone in the House about the diagnosis yet, using his own near-constant fatigue as an excuse to change the subject whenever it came up. And yet he's sure they've noticed something -- a change in him this past week. He hasn't been himself at all, and it seemed like the more he lost the ability to function, the more he lost the ability to care This morning had been no different, with Ion staying in bed well into the afternoon... until he heard something whining softly beside his bed.]
[Peeking out from behind the pillow, he saw the paws and nose of Colonel the puppy, curiously investigating as to why Ion was still in bed at almost 2 in the afternoon. Had someone opened the door for him? Or was he just getting better at getting into every little thing? After another whine and a short bark, Ion reaches out to gently scratch behind his ear, as if to reassure him.]
Did you come to wake me up? I've been awake for awhile now. [His words are met with a puzzled tilt of the head from Colonel.] I'm all right. Just... tired. That's why I'm still in bed, after all.
[With anther whine and a scampering of paws, Colonel bats at the bed again before skittering off to the other side of the room. Folded up by the desk is the wheelchair Ion borrowed from the clinic earlier that week, which has only been used but once. When he turns and barks again, Ion pulls the pillow away from his face and pushes himself upright.]
...what is it? Do you want to play? [An enthusiastic bark.] Why don't you go find Florian? Or Tear? [A whine, and then another bark.] I'm sorry. I can't play with you. [More scampering, and accompanied by a series of loud barks in succession. His patience has worn thin.] Colonel!
[The barking stops. With another soft whine, Colonel lays down and presses his nose to the floor. Ion didn't even realize why until he looked up, seeing the pillow from before in his hand, about to be thrown at the dog. As he lowers the pillow, Colonel perks up immediately and skips back over, paws once more up on the bedside.]
...I'm sorry.
[What was wrong with him? What was he doing?]
I'm so sorry, Colonel.
[It was silly. This was silly. He's already died before. What difference would it make if it happened again?]
I'm sorry... I can't even tell you the truth... can I?
[Since when has he been afraid of death?]
--
[ Saturday - Action / Voice ]
[Today was a new day.]
[For the first time in a long time, Ion got out of bed as soon as he woke up. It took more effort than he'd like to admit, but eventually he leaves his room, wheeling himself along in the wheelchair he borrowed from the clinic. He has only one goal for the day, and that goal is to make today as fundamentally normal for himself as possible. Though still feeling far more tired than usual, without the added strain of trying to force his leg muscles to move, accomplishing that goal actually seems to be within reach.]
[His first stop is the library. It's the place he frequents most often and the trip he knows he'll need to get used to first. Thankfully, these past few weeks of being unable to stand for very long have let him grow accustomed to asking for help reaching the books on the higher shelves. Now, it just means there are a few more rows he needs help with... though on the bright side, the previously inaccessible bottom row was now much easier to reach.]
[From there, he makes his way around to various other parts of the village, sometimes to actually go in but mostly just to get a feel for getting around. The school, Seventh Heaven, the clinic, the plaza... he's not quite brave enough to try venturing much further than that for now, but that was more than enough for one day. He's not exactly a champion of upper-body strength, after all. Before it even starts to get dark, he'll head back to House one.]
--
[Later that night, he pulls out his journal. His voice sounds tired, but his exact mood may be hard to place outside of anyone who knows him very well.]
Perhaps this question is a bit vague... but has anyone ever changed in a way that seemed to be for the worse, only to realize it could potentially be for the better? Not quite a physical change, but... a change in the way you think about certain things.
If you're willing to share, of course.
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