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thunderwitch.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tampered2007-09-30 01:29 am
thunderwitch.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-09-30 01:29 am
Log; Complete
When; Sept. 29th, evening
Rating; PG
Characters; Cirucci (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
thunderwitch} & Alfons {opfern}
Summary; With Edward lost to him, Alfons has no where else to go but to the Thunderwitch, who, at best, is possibly the last person most people could expect any sort of comfort from.
Log;
Curled on the couch with a book was not how Cirucci liked to spend her days. But it was how she was spending this one, after finally managing to clear her apartment. Orihime had come over the night before, damn it but Cirucci had to be nice to her, had to pet and pamper, because she wasn't on a leash like she was supposed to be, at Arrancar's beck and call like she was supposed to be, and the only way to assure the Thunderwitch could get treatment for the numerous injuries she received, (most at her own fault), was to insure the human girl thought of her as a kind, warm person. To her at least. It made her sick, but lots of things made Cirucci sick and this was only one of them. Having to keep up the act, kind, gentle, "Orihime, precious, what's wrong" with her little human girl friend was even worse, the sulky teenager deserved a good smack in the face with the Privaron's tail and it was all she could do not to follow suit. But she'd finally got Orihime settled, placated the human friend, and sent them off.
That left Alfons and Luppi.
Luppi was easiest to handle, she slipped into the bedroom for a bit of fun, made sure to be extra quiet and extra quick, placating by promising to be back as soon as she could, then had to convince Alfons that he certainly did not want to go back to see Alphonse and Winry, did not at ALL and refused to say why. But when she'd woken that morning, he'd been gone. She'd thrown a few pillows, huffed around, but she'd known it would happen eventually. ... Just had to deal with it.
And now Luppi was napping again, curled childishly on her bed and she was reading, goddamn it, had found a copy of the book Shiro-Megane-Kun had read to her and wanted to finish the damn thing, only to be interrupted by a knock.
"Come in." She muttered, not looking up. Very few people knew her address; the ones who did were no one she worried about.
>>>
Why had he come here? Of all the places to go when he was in distress... Well, honestly, he had never been in a position like this before. Before, he had Ed to be with... Or at least his own bedroom. But now he had no home. Alphonse and Winry belonged to Edward after all.
Cirucci Thunderwitch was all he had.
Feeling numb by this point, he set the cat carrier and suitcase down before reaching to open the door. He was smiling, but his eyes were empty, and no matter how he tried there was no hiding his dejected air as he stood in the doorway to look toward's Cirucci's position on the couch.
"I came back."
>>>
She cursed under her breath, hunched over the book and purple eyes settling on the fact that he had a suitcase and that damnable animal, (Cirucci couldn’t decided if she thought the cat was cute or annoying, it walked a fine, fine, line). Her mouth opened, painted lips accustomed to lies and falsehoods, to sultry whispers and hollow promises.
Very rarely did that mouth of hers utter anything akin to true comfort. But… Alfons was…
“… I told you not to go.” The Privaron finally murmured, soft, not getting up but not retreating.
>>>
His lips twitched into something of a smirk, then, as he lowered his gaze to the toes of his shoes. "Yes." She had...but it had been silly. Had she expected him to simply live on her couch and never try to go back?
...Well, now she was going to get what she wanted, though he wasn't sure how long it would be. "May I stay for a bit?" he whispered back, voice barely carrying across the room as he pushed his luggage inside, though he held off on shutting the door until he had her permission.
>>>
Cirucci frowned, her lips pursed. Was that it? That was all he had to say?
“For a little bit.” She snapped her book shut, jerking her head behind her, to the spare room full of… pillows. Well, albeit, some of them were very big pillows. Maybe they’d work for a bed.
“… I’m not telling Luppi to be quiet. You’ll need… earplugs or something.” It was an ill attempt at humor, at chastisement. She’d told him not to come and he’d gotten all upset, didn’t understand why. What was she supposed to tell him? “Your lover came back but now he’s a fucking kid and probably doesn’t know who the shit you are?” She expected a bit of appreciation for her shameful show of concern.
>>>
He didn't even bat an eye like he normally might have at her poor humor. "All right," he simply responded, his voice sounding hollow in his ears.
The door shut, and Alfons picked the luggage back up to carry into the room she had indicated. Well, it was better than a couch, simply because it was more like a room of his own. He knew that he could have to go back out soon and fetch a litter box for the kitten, because keeping the window open to let Ciro out wouldn't...be a very good idea in a penthouse.
Once in the room, he stepped carefully around the pillows, feeling much like a robot in the mechanical way he went about letting Ciro out and setting up the dishes and bag of food he had packed in his suit case. Water. Ciro needed water.
Grabbing the metal dish, Alfons trudged out of the room and towards the kitchen to fill it with water, muttering out a "Thank you," to Cirucci in passing.
>>>
Cirucci huffed in response, curling up tighter in her corner of the couch and half-heartedly opening her book again. She hated reading. It was hard, to concentrate on, and she’d never done it before anyway. What was there to read in Hueco Mundo? The only thing she’d ever really read of her own volition were some reports, occasionally things in the human world, but not books.
And this was poetry and it was so bad.
“You can cry if you want.” She muttered bitterly into the pages, smoothing down her white uniform and eyeing him.
>>>
Maybe it had been a bad idea coming here... It would have been better to go somewhere else, where it was someone who didn't know anything was wrong. Then he could pretend it was all okay, and actually fool them.
Well, he might not have been able to fool her, but he could still pretend. After all, when had he ever been so silly as to cry on Cirucci's shoulder? He was the one who took care of her. That was how it worked.
...That was how it worked.
"It's fine," he replied in passing once more, stepping over Ciro carefully so as not to spill the water now in the dish. "I'll make dinner tonight. What do you want?"
>>>
Oh, goddamnit. Why did he have to make everything so damned difficult. Cirucci Thunderwitch did not comfort people, she didn’t soothe and croon for just anybody, and she’d be damned if it was going to be thrown back in her face.
“I’m not hungry.” The Privaron snapped irritably. “I already ate.” Lies and also lies. She was always hungry, he knew that.
“And I was offering.” Did she have to spell it out?
>>>
If she could lie, then so could he. "Really? So was I."
What was he afraid of? Maybe he just didn't want anything else to change. So much had already changed... Bothering Cirucci with his problems would change that. Or, maybe he was afraid that if he started crying, he wouldn't be able to stop.
The water bowl was set down, and he straightened up to move back into the kitchen. "I'll make spaghetti...and an angelfood cake. How does that sound?"
>>>
Cirucci stiffened again, snapping her book shut once more. Her lips twisted into a snarl, and before she’d even thought about it, she’d thrown the small volume at the back of his head.
Not softly.
>>>
As if he wasn't sore enough. The sharp contact made him stumble and jerk around, clutching at the back of his head and glaring at her."Ow! Damnit, Cirucci!"
And that was all it took. He had been moving on mechanics. He had been keeping it at bay. But anger was only one short step away from frustration, and that easily could lead the way to misery.
His legs gave out, and the young man collapsed to his knees, desperate to hide his face behind his hands. One could only imagine the look of devastation that must lie there.
>>>
Lips still pursed, the Thunderwitch unfolded her petite form from the couch, slipping up and approaching. She stood above him for a moment, foreboding, nearly, crisp white uniform and disdainful features. But those features slowly crumbled to something like soft, something remotely, perhaps maybe like concern, and she plopped down hard on her butt beside him, running a hand through her hair dismissively.
“I told you, you could.” Cirucci muttered awkwardly, making no move to him. But she placed herself there, by him, a silent acceptance of his need to clutch or cling, to use her for some sort of anchor like she occasionally used others when things got so hard she had to hide her shame away. The Thunderwitch wasn’t used to being the one who could support anyone else, she barely had enough sanity, enough self-respect, enough pride to support herself, but… Alfons’ weight wasn’t that heavy.
>>>
The last time he had cried... When had that been? Perhaps so long ago, when the curse that mirrored one of the Seven Deadly Sins had run rampant. Wrath. Anger. So many injuries had made him delirious, and as Nill comforted him, he had wept.
Apparently it had built up overtime, as he'd had nowhere to let it loose. His breaths sounded broken as he let the tears flow, and finally he dropped his hands so that he could fall against the slight form beside him, clinging to her in a type of desperation he rarely showed.
Alfons couldn't even form words through his sobs as he nestled against her shoulder and cried, shoulders shuddering and eyes squeezed shut.
>>>
Well, this was awkward.
Cirucci softly patted the back of his head, gloved hand petting at his hair. Her idea of comfort was mostly sexual, and she knew that would hardly help right now, considering his last reaction. She shushed softly, wordless little croons and murmurs.
Luppi stuck his head out of the bedroom and made a face, but Cirucci shooed him back behind Alfons’ shoulders, blowing a kiss and mouthing a promise, should he keep his mouth shut. He retreated with a shrug.
“There, there~” The Thunderwitch pursed her lips, felt his tears staining the bosom of her uniform, arched her back and shifted around to get comfortable, eyes guarded and lidded.
>>>
It was a strange sort of feeling to be comforted by someone who claimed to have no heart or real emotions. But then, Alfons had never thought of Cirucci as heartless... She just didn't seem to ever know what to do with her emotions, and so she treated them like aliens.
As he wept, he had no concept of time. He didn't know if it was hours or minutes, but he knew that by the time he was done, he felt like he had nothing left in him. And it was that school of thought that made his expression crumple all over again. Was there anything left to him? No country. No career. No life.
And now there was no Edward.
No longer having the energy to even smile, he felt his body give up fighting to stay awake, and it was with a sigh that he opened his clouded eyes just for a moment to stare at the dampened fabric before those same eyes fluttered shut and his consciousness gave out. Rather than embracing him, sleep welcomed him with an empty coldness, but then even that was better than dreams of things he knew would never come.
>>>
Cirucci sighed.
Her uniform was all wet. Tugging at the breast of the white fabric irritably, she shifted uncomfortably, getting out from under Alfons’ weight and looking at him oddly. Mechanically, she stood, dragged him up with some measure of gentle touch, picking him up easily, she was Arrancar, damn it, and strong, carrying him to the spare room and setting him down, tucking pillows into a makeshift nest with a hint of maternal concern, fluffing and puttering about.
“… Stupid Alfons.” She muttered darkly. This is what happened to monogamous people. People that loved. With another sigh and a shake of dark curls the Privaron slunk out and over to her bedroom to cling on Luppi and whine that now she just wasn’t in the mood.
Rating; PG
Characters; Cirucci (
thunderwitch} & Alfons {opfern} Summary; With Edward lost to him, Alfons has no where else to go but to the Thunderwitch, who, at best, is possibly the last person most people could expect any sort of comfort from.
Log;
Curled on the couch with a book was not how Cirucci liked to spend her days. But it was how she was spending this one, after finally managing to clear her apartment. Orihime had come over the night before, damn it but Cirucci had to be nice to her, had to pet and pamper, because she wasn't on a leash like she was supposed to be, at Arrancar's beck and call like she was supposed to be, and the only way to assure the Thunderwitch could get treatment for the numerous injuries she received, (most at her own fault), was to insure the human girl thought of her as a kind, warm person. To her at least. It made her sick, but lots of things made Cirucci sick and this was only one of them. Having to keep up the act, kind, gentle, "Orihime, precious, what's wrong" with her little human girl friend was even worse, the sulky teenager deserved a good smack in the face with the Privaron's tail and it was all she could do not to follow suit. But she'd finally got Orihime settled, placated the human friend, and sent them off.
That left Alfons and Luppi.
Luppi was easiest to handle, she slipped into the bedroom for a bit of fun, made sure to be extra quiet and extra quick, placating by promising to be back as soon as she could, then had to convince Alfons that he certainly did not want to go back to see Alphonse and Winry, did not at ALL and refused to say why. But when she'd woken that morning, he'd been gone. She'd thrown a few pillows, huffed around, but she'd known it would happen eventually. ... Just had to deal with it.
And now Luppi was napping again, curled childishly on her bed and she was reading, goddamn it, had found a copy of the book Shiro-Megane-Kun had read to her and wanted to finish the damn thing, only to be interrupted by a knock.
"Come in." She muttered, not looking up. Very few people knew her address; the ones who did were no one she worried about.
>>>
Why had he come here? Of all the places to go when he was in distress... Well, honestly, he had never been in a position like this before. Before, he had Ed to be with... Or at least his own bedroom. But now he had no home. Alphonse and Winry belonged to Edward after all.
Cirucci Thunderwitch was all he had.
Feeling numb by this point, he set the cat carrier and suitcase down before reaching to open the door. He was smiling, but his eyes were empty, and no matter how he tried there was no hiding his dejected air as he stood in the doorway to look toward's Cirucci's position on the couch.
"I came back."
>>>
She cursed under her breath, hunched over the book and purple eyes settling on the fact that he had a suitcase and that damnable animal, (Cirucci couldn’t decided if she thought the cat was cute or annoying, it walked a fine, fine, line). Her mouth opened, painted lips accustomed to lies and falsehoods, to sultry whispers and hollow promises.
Very rarely did that mouth of hers utter anything akin to true comfort. But… Alfons was…
“… I told you not to go.” The Privaron finally murmured, soft, not getting up but not retreating.
>>>
His lips twitched into something of a smirk, then, as he lowered his gaze to the toes of his shoes. "Yes." She had...but it had been silly. Had she expected him to simply live on her couch and never try to go back?
...Well, now she was going to get what she wanted, though he wasn't sure how long it would be. "May I stay for a bit?" he whispered back, voice barely carrying across the room as he pushed his luggage inside, though he held off on shutting the door until he had her permission.
>>>
Cirucci frowned, her lips pursed. Was that it? That was all he had to say?
“For a little bit.” She snapped her book shut, jerking her head behind her, to the spare room full of… pillows. Well, albeit, some of them were very big pillows. Maybe they’d work for a bed.
“… I’m not telling Luppi to be quiet. You’ll need… earplugs or something.” It was an ill attempt at humor, at chastisement. She’d told him not to come and he’d gotten all upset, didn’t understand why. What was she supposed to tell him? “Your lover came back but now he’s a fucking kid and probably doesn’t know who the shit you are?” She expected a bit of appreciation for her shameful show of concern.
>>>
He didn't even bat an eye like he normally might have at her poor humor. "All right," he simply responded, his voice sounding hollow in his ears.
The door shut, and Alfons picked the luggage back up to carry into the room she had indicated. Well, it was better than a couch, simply because it was more like a room of his own. He knew that he could have to go back out soon and fetch a litter box for the kitten, because keeping the window open to let Ciro out wouldn't...be a very good idea in a penthouse.
Once in the room, he stepped carefully around the pillows, feeling much like a robot in the mechanical way he went about letting Ciro out and setting up the dishes and bag of food he had packed in his suit case. Water. Ciro needed water.
Grabbing the metal dish, Alfons trudged out of the room and towards the kitchen to fill it with water, muttering out a "Thank you," to Cirucci in passing.
>>>
Cirucci huffed in response, curling up tighter in her corner of the couch and half-heartedly opening her book again. She hated reading. It was hard, to concentrate on, and she’d never done it before anyway. What was there to read in Hueco Mundo? The only thing she’d ever really read of her own volition were some reports, occasionally things in the human world, but not books.
And this was poetry and it was so bad.
“You can cry if you want.” She muttered bitterly into the pages, smoothing down her white uniform and eyeing him.
>>>
Maybe it had been a bad idea coming here... It would have been better to go somewhere else, where it was someone who didn't know anything was wrong. Then he could pretend it was all okay, and actually fool them.
Well, he might not have been able to fool her, but he could still pretend. After all, when had he ever been so silly as to cry on Cirucci's shoulder? He was the one who took care of her. That was how it worked.
...That was how it worked.
"It's fine," he replied in passing once more, stepping over Ciro carefully so as not to spill the water now in the dish. "I'll make dinner tonight. What do you want?"
>>>
Oh, goddamnit. Why did he have to make everything so damned difficult. Cirucci Thunderwitch did not comfort people, she didn’t soothe and croon for just anybody, and she’d be damned if it was going to be thrown back in her face.
“I’m not hungry.” The Privaron snapped irritably. “I already ate.” Lies and also lies. She was always hungry, he knew that.
“And I was offering.” Did she have to spell it out?
>>>
If she could lie, then so could he. "Really? So was I."
What was he afraid of? Maybe he just didn't want anything else to change. So much had already changed... Bothering Cirucci with his problems would change that. Or, maybe he was afraid that if he started crying, he wouldn't be able to stop.
The water bowl was set down, and he straightened up to move back into the kitchen. "I'll make spaghetti...and an angelfood cake. How does that sound?"
>>>
Cirucci stiffened again, snapping her book shut once more. Her lips twisted into a snarl, and before she’d even thought about it, she’d thrown the small volume at the back of his head.
Not softly.
>>>
As if he wasn't sore enough. The sharp contact made him stumble and jerk around, clutching at the back of his head and glaring at her."Ow! Damnit, Cirucci!"
And that was all it took. He had been moving on mechanics. He had been keeping it at bay. But anger was only one short step away from frustration, and that easily could lead the way to misery.
His legs gave out, and the young man collapsed to his knees, desperate to hide his face behind his hands. One could only imagine the look of devastation that must lie there.
>>>
Lips still pursed, the Thunderwitch unfolded her petite form from the couch, slipping up and approaching. She stood above him for a moment, foreboding, nearly, crisp white uniform and disdainful features. But those features slowly crumbled to something like soft, something remotely, perhaps maybe like concern, and she plopped down hard on her butt beside him, running a hand through her hair dismissively.
“I told you, you could.” Cirucci muttered awkwardly, making no move to him. But she placed herself there, by him, a silent acceptance of his need to clutch or cling, to use her for some sort of anchor like she occasionally used others when things got so hard she had to hide her shame away. The Thunderwitch wasn’t used to being the one who could support anyone else, she barely had enough sanity, enough self-respect, enough pride to support herself, but… Alfons’ weight wasn’t that heavy.
>>>
The last time he had cried... When had that been? Perhaps so long ago, when the curse that mirrored one of the Seven Deadly Sins had run rampant. Wrath. Anger. So many injuries had made him delirious, and as Nill comforted him, he had wept.
Apparently it had built up overtime, as he'd had nowhere to let it loose. His breaths sounded broken as he let the tears flow, and finally he dropped his hands so that he could fall against the slight form beside him, clinging to her in a type of desperation he rarely showed.
Alfons couldn't even form words through his sobs as he nestled against her shoulder and cried, shoulders shuddering and eyes squeezed shut.
>>>
Well, this was awkward.
Cirucci softly patted the back of his head, gloved hand petting at his hair. Her idea of comfort was mostly sexual, and she knew that would hardly help right now, considering his last reaction. She shushed softly, wordless little croons and murmurs.
Luppi stuck his head out of the bedroom and made a face, but Cirucci shooed him back behind Alfons’ shoulders, blowing a kiss and mouthing a promise, should he keep his mouth shut. He retreated with a shrug.
“There, there~” The Thunderwitch pursed her lips, felt his tears staining the bosom of her uniform, arched her back and shifted around to get comfortable, eyes guarded and lidded.
>>>
It was a strange sort of feeling to be comforted by someone who claimed to have no heart or real emotions. But then, Alfons had never thought of Cirucci as heartless... She just didn't seem to ever know what to do with her emotions, and so she treated them like aliens.
As he wept, he had no concept of time. He didn't know if it was hours or minutes, but he knew that by the time he was done, he felt like he had nothing left in him. And it was that school of thought that made his expression crumple all over again. Was there anything left to him? No country. No career. No life.
And now there was no Edward.
No longer having the energy to even smile, he felt his body give up fighting to stay awake, and it was with a sigh that he opened his clouded eyes just for a moment to stare at the dampened fabric before those same eyes fluttered shut and his consciousness gave out. Rather than embracing him, sleep welcomed him with an empty coldness, but then even that was better than dreams of things he knew would never come.
>>>
Cirucci sighed.
Her uniform was all wet. Tugging at the breast of the white fabric irritably, she shifted uncomfortably, getting out from under Alfons’ weight and looking at him oddly. Mechanically, she stood, dragged him up with some measure of gentle touch, picking him up easily, she was Arrancar, damn it, and strong, carrying him to the spare room and setting him down, tucking pillows into a makeshift nest with a hint of maternal concern, fluffing and puttering about.
“… Stupid Alfons.” She muttered darkly. This is what happened to monogamous people. People that loved. With another sigh and a shake of dark curls the Privaron slunk out and over to her bedroom to cling on Luppi and whine that now she just wasn’t in the mood.