Tired of Wall Art [Active]

[dood-asplode.livejournal.com]

Character(s): Keesling, King Mickey, Alice, Luffy
Content: Somebody finally un-stakes Keesling from the wall. Thank goodness.
Setting: Muspelheim gate
Time: Morning (after this thread - he's been on that wall all night)
Warnings: Um, a prinny has been staked to a wall here. Violence, I guess? :D;

It had been night when he'd died, Keesling remembered. It had been his seventh horrendous day that week. He remembered being publicly humiliated, having nowhere to turn...and then he remembered waking up the next morning in a body not his own, informed he had to atone for his sins, and meeting his squad. He remembered a razor had helped him along that turn of events.

But there was a difference between where he'd been then and where he was now. His death had been his own doing. Though it was shaped much the same way (a terrible day, humiliation, and blades), this - this situation he was in now - was not his fault.

That, of course, didn't change the fact that he was still staked to the wall in a relatively strange town, in so much pain he could barely think anymore and exhausted from standing stock-still all night - he couldn't lean at all, or the kunai keeping him against the wall would rip straight through his flippers. Not that they hadn't gone through his flippers already, but he just didn't want to make anything worse.

So he spent a sleepless night in a thick haze of pain, exhausted and tense all at once. The gate stayed open all night, but the guard never talked to him, never responded to his pleas for help. It was a very long time before the artificial sun rose - forever, to Keesling, and then forever again - and people began to stream through the gate again. Keesling shivered and whimpered as the motion pulled against the kunai in his flippers. He had to find somebody who wasn't blond. The blond people wouldn't help him.

"Help, dood," he finally managed, voice barely above a whisper. "Dood. Please. Dood."

[OOC: Description of injuries is as follows: one kunai in each flipper and each foot attaching him to the wall. Stab wounds in the left side and the stomach. About a half-dozen or so kunai stuck in the chest to form the shape of a heart. Covered in dripping pink paint. The poor prinny's been through the wringer. ^^;]

Comments

[dood-asplode.livejournal.com]

Keesling was surprised to see a dark haired young girl coming towards him. Had she actually heard him? "Dood," he tried again, still too quiet for his own liking, desperate. "Dood!"

She was coming for him. She was coming to help him. He started shaking again, wincing at the pain the action caused, yet he was unable to stop. After being stuck here all night, someone was finally coming to help him.

...despite that, he wasn't really sure he wanted to accept what she was trying to give him. Something he was supposed to eat from someone he didn't know...after Larxene, he didn't trust anybody. He was grateful, incredibly so, but he wasn't going to drop his guard.

With his attention focused on the girl, he didn't notice the other figure approach until the kunai in his other flipper moved. He flinched and tried hard not to whimper, not to break down, not now, he had to get down, had to find his squad, Bellatrix was probably worried sick by now...

"K-Keesling," he finally managed to answer the second figure. "Name's Keesling, dood." He flinched again, unable to suppress a pained yelp when first one kunai and then the other slid out of the wall and his flippers. He slumped forward against the cloaked figure, then cried out and jerked backwards, back against the wall. He'd landed on the kunai stuck in his chest, managed to push them in further, one of them was almost all the way in and oh it hurt...

He was shaking again, holding himself up against the wall despite the pain because he really did not want any of those kunai pushed all the way through, when the third person arrived - well, landed was a bit more accurate. He didn't sound happy...was the new guy going to fight the people that were helping him? Did he think they were the ones that had done this? "No," Keesling gasped - he didn't want them to fight, he just wanted to get off this wall! "No- it- Larxene- dood..."

[amcgees-alice.livejournal.com]

Alice looked at the newcomer curiously. Normally, the fact that he was a mouse would have been enough reason for bafflement, but it was what he was wearing that threw her off. Certainly, it was the uniform of those in the Organization, but that would hardly make sense if he was here trying to help this creature, would it?

He didn't accept the meta essence, which was fine, she supposed, though not terribly clever. He was bound to be in a bit more pain. Alice sighed. She really thought it unnecessary for creatures like this to even voluntarily refuse aid. Without a word, she held her hand up, and the essence became absorbed into creatures body. It (he?) could be mad her later. She was in the process of removing the projectile embedded in his chest. That couldn't have felt good.

"You," Alice said to Mickey, not taking her eyes off the creature. "You come to aid him, but you are very suspicious. Why are you wearing the cloak of the oppressors in this world? I can't imagine you are working with them, but if that is so, I would be careful. You don't want to be mistaken for one and get attacked. It's clear one of these persons hurt 'Keelsing,' for amusement it seems."

Alice stepped back. "Now, how to remove this fake colour on you..."

She was interrupted, however, by a strange looking character, who seemed to descend on them. Alice looked up, irritated. Did he think they were hurting this creature. "Oh, do be quiet," she said, turning back to 'Keelsing.' "Look at this creature. Do you really think it would take two of us to do this? Besides, you hardly see me with a cloak on, do you?"

Honestly. Some people were just unobservant. Still, the name the creature said: Larxene, was it? She'd heard it before. In fact, she'd SPOKEN to that person too. So. Now she had a face for this act. It was only a matter of tracking her down. That could be managed.

[the-mouseking.livejournal.com]

"It's nice ta meet you, Keesling," Mickey said to the bird-like creature, still reassuringly, as he carefully worked the knife free of his flippers. Still propping up his weight, he went to work on the knives in Keesling's feet, and when those were out, the ones on his chest alongside the girl. "My name's Mickey. We'll getcha healed real soon, don't worry."

The girl was suspicious of him because of his coat; in a world where the Organization was making all kinds of trouble, that wasn't surprising. "Aw, I just wear this thing as a disguise. I had to move around in secret a lot before I came here. It's good for hidin' your face when you don't want people knowin' who you are." Of course, his large, round ears still presented something of a problem. "I'm the Organization's enemy. They'd be the first to tell ya that."

There was a newcomer who seemed to leap down on them from above, and he was apparently angry at Mickey or the girl--thought that they were trying to hurt Keesling, maybe, or was suspicious of his coat--but Mickey didn't pay him any mind for the moment. He'd focus on convincing the newcomer that he was a friend once Keesling was healed.

But he did pay close attention to the name Keesling gasped out. "Larxene," he echoed darkly, sickened but unsurprised. "She'll pay for this."

Once the last of the knives were free, he summoned his Keyblade. "I can do a Cure spell with this that'll close up all your wounds," he explained carefully to Keesling, lest he think Mickey intended to attack him. "That okay with you?"