The memory runs its course, leaving Zenitsu both winded and in pain. Indignation bubbles in the pit of his belly as he inwardly curses Ogata out for treating Flayn so terribly. How dare he.
The memory has already long passed, but it's his anxious state that seems to make the pain last. Following her instructions, he breathes in—only to be interrupted by a memory when he's about to breath out.]
...you know what's also intense? The next memory Zenitsu is being treated to. It's unfortunately not in a convenient link.
It's flashes of memory, really.
The beginning of the week on the island - when she starts to feel vaguely ill. It's strange, but not unheard of; they're in the middle of nowhere, after all, and none of them have really been eating well. But there's a fever, as time goes on, that she can't quite shake. Dizziness. Her hands won't stop trembling, and she keeps having to sit down. Sometimes, she shakes with tremors, and she's cold.
A few times, she plays it off as simply not having much strength, or of just being tired. No one pushes the matter.
...even at a sleepover, on curfew night, in the camp - as they're telling stories to pass the time - "Neena" (the only one in that log that didn't wind up at the summer camp, wow) attempts to check her temperature, and she plays it off, even though she's overwarm and freezing all at once. Even the next night, after the week's dead have been announced, she's found sick to her stomach at the waterfall, but she insists she's only a little ill, and Dimitri believes her.
"I do not have the stomach for this," indeed.
The next morning is worse, somehow. When she wakes, she can't feel any strength in her bones at all. But she drags herself toward the beach, as they all do for the trial. It's a struggle just to take steps, to put one foot in front of the other -
And, her eyes on the group, she falls, finally succumbing to the poison that she knew had been working its way through her all week long.
Sorry about that, Zenitsu. That can't be pleasant to remember.]
[It's not only unpleasant, but horrifying when he comes back to himself with a short gasp and a tremble in his hands. The deaths at the house were quick in that they all lasted a single night. In contrast, this experience was protracted with everyone around her none the wiser to her suffering.
He's furious that she had to endure such a painful death. Right now, though, the shock of the memory has him firmly within its grip as he hastily searches for her face.]
She hadn't wanted anyone to know about it at all - though, between her not being especially subtle about not eating food if someone else had prepared it and the fact that previous games' trials are broadcast on the theater's screen, she's come to accept that it might only be a matter of time before someone figured it out.
(Some people already have.)
But, more than that, she hadn't wanted anyone to know exactly how that week had felt. It's a wholly unpleasant memory, and it would be preferable for no one to know what death by poison feels like.
She reaches out and puts a finger to Zenitsu's lips. Shh.]
[Her finger—very soft!—on his lips silences him straightaway. His eyes widen at her strange request, and he leans back just enough to answer.]
What do you mean, don't? Does nobody know what happened to you?
[Having experienced such a painful demise behind everyone, how can they not know? Just thinking about it makes his everything ache. He won't be able to shake the feeling of being poisoned off for a while.]
...that I died, but I am not sure that any of them knows exactly how long it went on before I succumbed. I took great pains not to let them know. [...] I do not want anyone else to worry over me.
[Well, constantly making mistakes is tiring. And it's a little tiresome to keep injuring herself in the kitchen - though she's managed not to, this week.]
Not really... it is a good opportunity to try and learn.
[He'd go stir-crazy if he had to eat his own cooking all the time. Variety is nice. Flayn is such a good girl to not even complain about that when given the chance.]
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fishingforcompliments) wrote2020-06-07 04:10 pm
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The memory runs its course, leaving Zenitsu both winded and in pain. Indignation bubbles in the pit of his belly as he inwardly curses Ogata out for treating Flayn so terribly. How dare he.
Outwardly, he doubles over with a groan.]
T-the knee . . . I can still feel it.
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Stricken, she moves closer to him to put an arm around his back to help him stay steady.]
Ah - it will pass... [Yikes.] Breathe carefully. In, then out.
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The memory has already long passed, but it's his anxious state that seems to make the pain last. Following her instructions, he breathes in—only to be interrupted by a memory when he's about to breath out.]
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[...is what she gasps as she comes out of the memory. The phantom pain of the gunshot lingers, and she clutches at her arm.
Yikes. A duck? Of all things?]
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Flayn! Are you okay?
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[...he got shot by a duck. He knows how it felt.]
Are you..?
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[Flayn deserves none of the duck's crime and he feels terrible for dumping it on her.]
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[...it was kind of intense, though.
...you know what's also intense? The next memory Zenitsu is being treated to. It's unfortunately not in a convenient link.
It's flashes of memory, really.
The beginning of the week on the island - when she starts to feel vaguely ill. It's strange, but not unheard of; they're in the middle of nowhere, after all, and none of them have really been eating well. But there's a fever, as time goes on, that she can't quite shake. Dizziness. Her hands won't stop trembling, and she keeps having to sit down. Sometimes, she shakes with tremors, and she's cold.
A few times, she plays it off as simply not having much strength, or of just being tired. No one pushes the matter.
...even at a sleepover, on curfew night, in the camp - as they're telling stories to pass the time - "Neena" (the only one in that log that didn't wind up at the summer camp, wow) attempts to check her temperature, and she plays it off, even though she's overwarm and freezing all at once. Even the next night, after the week's dead have been announced, she's found sick to her stomach at the waterfall, but she insists she's only a little ill, and Dimitri believes her.
"I do not have the stomach for this," indeed.
The next morning is worse, somehow. When she wakes, she can't feel any strength in her bones at all. But she drags herself toward the beach, as they all do for the trial. It's a struggle just to take steps, to put one foot in front of the other -
And, her eyes on the group, she falls, finally succumbing to the poison that she knew had been working its way through her all week long.
Sorry about that, Zenitsu. That can't be pleasant to remember.]
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He's furious that she had to endure such a painful death. Right now, though, the shock of the memory has him firmly within its grip as he hastily searches for her face.]
F-Flayn, you . . .
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She hadn't wanted anyone to know about it at all - though, between her not being especially subtle about not eating food if someone else had prepared it and the fact that previous games' trials are broadcast on the theater's screen, she's come to accept that it might only be a matter of time before someone figured it out.
(Some people already have.)
But, more than that, she hadn't wanted anyone to know exactly how that week had felt. It's a wholly unpleasant memory, and it would be preferable for no one to know what death by poison feels like.
She reaches out and puts a finger to Zenitsu's lips. Shh.]
...please, do not tell anyone about that.
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What do you mean, don't? Does nobody know what happened to you?
[Having experienced such a painful demise behind everyone, how can they not know? Just thinking about it makes his everything ache. He won't be able to shake the feeling of being poisoned off for a while.]
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[She hesitates.]
...that I died, but I am not sure that any of them knows exactly how long it went on before I succumbed. I took great pains not to let them know. [...] I do not want anyone else to worry over me.
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[He understands, to a point. He also did live through those memories from her point of view. Yet it pains him, either way.]
I won't tell anyone, but you have to let someone know if you ever start feeling like that again.
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[Even now, she still has no goddamn clue who poisoned her, so.]
I have taken to preparing my own meals since we arrived. My cooking has gotten much better, too, so it has more than one benefit.
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You don't even eat the food at the mess hall?
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...it is likely safe to, but - this way, I can assure people who are worried about me that there is no chance of my being poisoned again.
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[Well, constantly making mistakes is tiring. And it's a little tiresome to keep injuring herself in the kitchen - though she's managed not to, this week.]
Not really... it is a good opportunity to try and learn.
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Do you at least eat with someone?
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Yes, if someone is around when I am preparing my meals.
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Food always tastes better when you're eating with others. If you ever need somebody for that, you can look for me.
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