ジョルジュ キリコ || Dr. Kiriko George (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
purplehearted) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
niteo_nix2013-02-07 11:40 am
purplehearted) wrote in niteo_nix2013-02-07 11:40 am
Final Letter Home ✉ ❶st Night | Medical Chart 01 [Video]
[For the first time in months, Kiriko's PDA clicks on, but the man kneeling in the dirt on screen is nearly unrecognizable. Much more time has passed for the boy than for the residents of Nesreca: his hair has grown a few inches, and his once well-kept uniform is tattered and filthy. Most notably, there is a bandage around his eyes - Kiriko slowly lifts his trembling hands to remove it. There are wide friction burns around his wrists, as though he had recently been tied up. As the bandage comes off, Kiriko lowers his head, and his blond hair spills over his face. He moans.]
Where...?
[When he does look up, where his left blue eye should be is a bloody and empty socket. His thoughts foggy, Kiriko's memories of this place are slow to return. He turns his head in a feverish daze, but the scenery doesn't register. He moans, falling forward onto his hands. He stays that way a moment before allowing his body to collapse, resting in the cool snow.
It’s not long until a pair of black boots come into view. The owner is not visible from above the knees, because of the angle in which PDA is recording the video. But it’s a woman, obvious from the style of her shoes and the light voice she speaks with.]
Hey. You dead?
[She nudges him with her foot. Not the most compassionate way to look for signs of life, but hey, no reason to get her hands dirty if she doesn’t have to.
Kiriko reacts as though he's been struck by a cattle prod, and rolls onto his back with a shout. When he looks upon the woman's face, his expression warps into horror and disgust, less like a soldier in battle and more like a terrified child.]
W-Who are you?! What the fuck do you want?! [He reaches for his belt as if to draw a weapon, but finds he's been disarmed.]
Relax. [Her voice drawls from above.] I’m not going to hurt you. Looks like you went through hell anyway.
In fact, I might just be convinced to help.
[She crouches beside him, of course at a reasonable distance to avoid at blows he might throw her way. It’s now that her face comes into view; She might have been considered attractive if it wasn’t for the discolored skin and scar covering the left side of her face. There’s a bemused smirk playing on her lips, as if life was a game she just so happened to be winning at.]
So solider, let’s start with your name.
[Kiriko swallows, and his fingers are digging so hard into the dirt that his knucles turn white. He looks ready to attack her - at least, he would, if he could so much as sit up without fainting.]
...Kiriko George.
[She flinches as though struck and her expression darkens with a scowl.] Haha. Real funny. [As deadpan as deadpan can get.] Have a serious answer hiding in that messed up head of yours? [And yet, he does look an awful lot like the woman who happens to share that name. A coincidence, or a joke?]
[Kiriko coughs, his fever putting him back into a daze, but he manages to spit back:] You bitch! If this is about my Dad, fuck you! Tell me where you've taken me, or I'm going to kill you---!
Big words from a man lying on his back.
[She’s not scared of him in the slightest. He’s barely conscious and unarmed; the only person he’s going to get killed is himself. She looks over the pathetic man before her, because he does look like a mirror of her very own death dealer back home, and even the rational part of her mind agrees that something crazy is happening.]
I’ll need more than idle threats to prove you are who you think you are. [Though the threats do help.]
I don't need to prove a damn thing to you...!
[At this point, Kiriko snaps, jumping to his feet and lunging towards her. He reaches for her neck and misses, his fingernails clawing at her face with all the strength he has left.
Bad move, Kiriko. He’s far too close for comfort, so she finds herself reflectively retaliating. She pushes his hands away and then there’s a mean right hook heading right at his face. Without the strength to dodge, it connects with a crack and Kiriko collapses at her feet. The feed ends.]
Where...?
[When he does look up, where his left blue eye should be is a bloody and empty socket. His thoughts foggy, Kiriko's memories of this place are slow to return. He turns his head in a feverish daze, but the scenery doesn't register. He moans, falling forward onto his hands. He stays that way a moment before allowing his body to collapse, resting in the cool snow.
It’s not long until a pair of black boots come into view. The owner is not visible from above the knees, because of the angle in which PDA is recording the video. But it’s a woman, obvious from the style of her shoes and the light voice she speaks with.]
Hey. You dead?
[She nudges him with her foot. Not the most compassionate way to look for signs of life, but hey, no reason to get her hands dirty if she doesn’t have to.
Kiriko reacts as though he's been struck by a cattle prod, and rolls onto his back with a shout. When he looks upon the woman's face, his expression warps into horror and disgust, less like a soldier in battle and more like a terrified child.]
W-Who are you?! What the fuck do you want?! [He reaches for his belt as if to draw a weapon, but finds he's been disarmed.]
Relax. [Her voice drawls from above.] I’m not going to hurt you. Looks like you went through hell anyway.
In fact, I might just be convinced to help.
[She crouches beside him, of course at a reasonable distance to avoid at blows he might throw her way. It’s now that her face comes into view; She might have been considered attractive if it wasn’t for the discolored skin and scar covering the left side of her face. There’s a bemused smirk playing on her lips, as if life was a game she just so happened to be winning at.]
So solider, let’s start with your name.
[Kiriko swallows, and his fingers are digging so hard into the dirt that his knucles turn white. He looks ready to attack her - at least, he would, if he could so much as sit up without fainting.]
...Kiriko George.
[She flinches as though struck and her expression darkens with a scowl.] Haha. Real funny. [As deadpan as deadpan can get.] Have a serious answer hiding in that messed up head of yours? [And yet, he does look an awful lot like the woman who happens to share that name. A coincidence, or a joke?]
[Kiriko coughs, his fever putting him back into a daze, but he manages to spit back:] You bitch! If this is about my Dad, fuck you! Tell me where you've taken me, or I'm going to kill you---!
Big words from a man lying on his back.
[She’s not scared of him in the slightest. He’s barely conscious and unarmed; the only person he’s going to get killed is himself. She looks over the pathetic man before her, because he does look like a mirror of her very own death dealer back home, and even the rational part of her mind agrees that something crazy is happening.]
I’ll need more than idle threats to prove you are who you think you are. [Though the threats do help.]
I don't need to prove a damn thing to you...!
[At this point, Kiriko snaps, jumping to his feet and lunging towards her. He reaches for her neck and misses, his fingernails clawing at her face with all the strength he has left.
Bad move, Kiriko. He’s far too close for comfort, so she finds herself reflectively retaliating. She pushes his hands away and then there’s a mean right hook heading right at his face. Without the strength to dodge, it connects with a crack and Kiriko collapses at her feet. The feed ends.]
[voice]