Tamaki Yotsuba (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
puddingemote) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
lostcarnival2016-12-18 04:34 pm
puddingemote) wrote in lostcarnival2016-12-18 04:34 pm
Entry tags:
[OPEN] Home Again, Home Again
WHO: Tamaki and you
WHAT: Tamaki has been released by the agents and has returned to the carnival.
WHERE: Around the carnival
WHEN: D33.
WARNINGS: Maybe torture mention? Body horror? Idk.
A: Carnival Grounds
It's late afternoon when Tamaki stumbles from one of the telephones and back into the forest surrounding the carnival. He's clearly shaken, eyes wide and frantic as he moves with staggering steps away from the phone, but he seems to be physically unharmed.
He nearly collapses in relief when he reaches the carnival gates. The cheery lights of the game booths and the smells from the cookhouse seem to warm him, though there's still fear that shrouds his heart. He's missed some of his performances - and not only that, but he gave up information about the carnival, and about his coworkers, to bad people with guns.
Is he in trouble? Tamaki's not sure. But he'd rather be in trouble here than back there.
With halting and confused steps, he slowly tries to make his way back toward the trailers. Whatever awaits him, he thinks he should start there.
B: Cookhouse
It's later that evening when Tamaki sneaks his way into the cookhouse. Food will probably make him feel better; it usually does. It doesn't help that lately he's felt utterly starved all the time. It's probably due to all the growth spurts - the Director had said she didn't think he was through with them yet.
Indeed, he is quite a bit taller than when he first joined the carnival over a month ago. A whole foot taller, in fact, now at seven feet tall. He hasn't really noticed, other than it's suddenly gotten more difficult to fit through doorways and he keeps growing out of clothes. But it's not a big deal, right?
He hunkers down with his food in a far, dark corner, hopefully away from anyone else. He doesn't feel like being around any strangers right now, particularly carnival guests. He doesn't want to run into any more of those men in suits and sunglasses, and be dragged back to that awful white room where they asked him too many questions and frightened him when he couldn't answer.
He's digging into his food when he notices something on his hand. It's glowing green, like the numbers on a digital clock, except it's not just numbers, but whole lines of something. Tamaki doesn't recognize it, but anyone who works with computers would be able to see that it's definitely lines of some kind of coding language.
The lines scroll over his knuckles and across the back of his hand, circling his thumb before sliding up his arm. With an, "Ah!" Tamaki drops his spoon and yanks his sleeve up, watching in horror as the lines continue up before suddenly fading away like they were never there.
"What wast that!?"
WHAT: Tamaki has been released by the agents and has returned to the carnival.
WHERE: Around the carnival
WHEN: D33.
WARNINGS: Maybe torture mention? Body horror? Idk.
A: Carnival Grounds
It's late afternoon when Tamaki stumbles from one of the telephones and back into the forest surrounding the carnival. He's clearly shaken, eyes wide and frantic as he moves with staggering steps away from the phone, but he seems to be physically unharmed.
He nearly collapses in relief when he reaches the carnival gates. The cheery lights of the game booths and the smells from the cookhouse seem to warm him, though there's still fear that shrouds his heart. He's missed some of his performances - and not only that, but he gave up information about the carnival, and about his coworkers, to bad people with guns.
Is he in trouble? Tamaki's not sure. But he'd rather be in trouble here than back there.
With halting and confused steps, he slowly tries to make his way back toward the trailers. Whatever awaits him, he thinks he should start there.
B: Cookhouse
It's later that evening when Tamaki sneaks his way into the cookhouse. Food will probably make him feel better; it usually does. It doesn't help that lately he's felt utterly starved all the time. It's probably due to all the growth spurts - the Director had said she didn't think he was through with them yet.
Indeed, he is quite a bit taller than when he first joined the carnival over a month ago. A whole foot taller, in fact, now at seven feet tall. He hasn't really noticed, other than it's suddenly gotten more difficult to fit through doorways and he keeps growing out of clothes. But it's not a big deal, right?
He hunkers down with his food in a far, dark corner, hopefully away from anyone else. He doesn't feel like being around any strangers right now, particularly carnival guests. He doesn't want to run into any more of those men in suits and sunglasses, and be dragged back to that awful white room where they asked him too many questions and frightened him when he couldn't answer.
He's digging into his food when he notices something on his hand. It's glowing green, like the numbers on a digital clock, except it's not just numbers, but whole lines of something. Tamaki doesn't recognize it, but anyone who works with computers would be able to see that it's definitely lines of some kind of coding language.
The lines scroll over his knuckles and across the back of his hand, circling his thumb before sliding up his arm. With an, "Ah!" Tamaki drops his spoon and yanks his sleeve up, watching in horror as the lines continue up before suddenly fading away like they were never there.
"What wast that!?"
no subject
Sometimes that level of stubbornness could be a good thing. Tamaki thinks of Mitsuki never giving up after getting rejection after rejection, and Sogo continuing on even when his family disapproved of a career in music. But a lot of times, that level of stubbornness is a bad thing, like now, when someone could get hurt again.
He knows a lot of people consider him the bad kind of of stubborn. A selfish sort of stubborn. Maybe they're right, and that's why he ends up in situations like this.
"If she doesn't want to leave, then... that's okay." He'll figure something out.
no subject
But for now…
“It’ll be alright. I’m here, and I’ll look after ya, okay?”
no subject
His surprise doesn't last long before it turns to embarrassment, and he lowers his eyes, shoving some of the now-lukewarm food in his mouth to give himself a moment.
"I'm not a little kid," is what he finally says, in perhaps the most petulant way possible. Still, he is grateful.
no subject
Still. He can’t just leave it at that. As he starts to move around the table to leave for his own food, he has one last thing to say, quietly for him. “But kid or not, yer all under my protection. Remember that if ya ever need anythin’ at all.” And with that, he takes his leave.