Diarmuid Ua Duibhne (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
oathshackledbird) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
animus_network2013-10-09 03:30 pm
oathshackledbird) wrote in animus_network2013-10-09 03:30 pm
Entry tags:
- [au1] chidori yoshino,
- [au1] kachessa crim,
- [au1] zett takajo,
- [au6] lord el-melloi ii,
- [au9] claudia hortensia,
- [ou] asagi,
- [ou] brunwulf bear-claw,
- [ou] france,
- [ou] kariya matou,
- [ou] lancer (zero),
- [ou] lightning farron,
- [ou] naoya,
- [ou] patrick dawn,
- [ou] ryoji mochizuki,
- [ou] sealand,
- [ou] suzaku kururugi,
- [ou] xion
[Video/Action] Bittersweet the Bonds of the Heart
[Losing Mami, who he viewed as an adopted daughter, last month had been hard, but Diarmuid had worked his way through his grief by focusing on the happy times they had spent together. However, when three more people he is close to are sent home--two of which he cares for like his own children--those happy memories become a source of pain instead of a route passed the grief.
When he appears on the Network, Diarmuid looks more lost and empty than he has in a long time.]
Usually, when I address everyone, I am asking for help on a project that will benefit the whole Tower. Today, I am asking for help on a more personal level.
How does one handle losing a child? Not just one, but several over a short period of time? Nothing I try seems to work, and I am...
[His voice trails off here, shaking and uncertain. A short time later, the feed ends.]
Action:
[After making his post, Diarmuid can be found wandering the Tower almost as if he hopes one of the floors might give him the answers he seeks. There are some specific prompts below, but feel free to find him elsewhere.]
Room 4-16:
[A handmade wooden box sits on the bed next to Diarmuid. Once it held chocolates, now it holds letters. Several written in a childish hand are sitting on the top, but what Diarmuid is looking at is a pair of drawings that are usually set up near his bed on the nightstand.
He's not crying... He's not...]
Floor 48 (The Graveyard):
[Rabbit would probably scold Diarmuid for singing what is suppose to be a funny song in such a sad voice, but it's hard to be happy when he is singing the song alone to the gravestone of the person who was suppose to be singing it with him. He and Yotsuba had promised to get together to sing Rabbit's songs as a way of honoring their friend's memory...
Now that is never going to happen in any way other than this.]
Floor 3 (The Library):
[There is ink smudged on his cheek and his arm, but Diarmuid doesn't notice. On the surface, he's focused on printing more copies of the Tower Guide to put out for those who might want them, but really he's in the Library for a very different reason. Tohko was always here and it's like he feels spending time here will help him find her again--find that cheerful voice who had so often redirected him when he didn't know what to do next. He almost expects to look up and see her there, smiling and ready to offer her help with what he's working on.
Unfortunately, no matter how long he waits, that will not happen.]
Floor 28 (The Music Room):
[Before even his brother, Labrys had been the first family Diarmuid had in this place. Their bond created during the January experiment, afterward they had talked about learning to play an instrument together, but life in the Tower and his indecisiveness had kept them from doing so. Now, as his hands run over the piano he had once heard her picking a tune out on, the sound of his grief blocks any music the instrument might make.
How is it that one who once lived his life with no regrets has so many of them now?]
When he appears on the Network, Diarmuid looks more lost and empty than he has in a long time.]
Usually, when I address everyone, I am asking for help on a project that will benefit the whole Tower. Today, I am asking for help on a more personal level.
How does one handle losing a child? Not just one, but several over a short period of time? Nothing I try seems to work, and I am...
[His voice trails off here, shaking and uncertain. A short time later, the feed ends.]
Action:
[After making his post, Diarmuid can be found wandering the Tower almost as if he hopes one of the floors might give him the answers he seeks. There are some specific prompts below, but feel free to find him elsewhere.]
Room 4-16:
[A handmade wooden box sits on the bed next to Diarmuid. Once it held chocolates, now it holds letters. Several written in a childish hand are sitting on the top, but what Diarmuid is looking at is a pair of drawings that are usually set up near his bed on the nightstand.
He's not crying... He's not...]
Floor 48 (The Graveyard):
[Rabbit would probably scold Diarmuid for singing what is suppose to be a funny song in such a sad voice, but it's hard to be happy when he is singing the song alone to the gravestone of the person who was suppose to be singing it with him. He and Yotsuba had promised to get together to sing Rabbit's songs as a way of honoring their friend's memory...
Now that is never going to happen in any way other than this.]
Floor 3 (The Library):
[There is ink smudged on his cheek and his arm, but Diarmuid doesn't notice. On the surface, he's focused on printing more copies of the Tower Guide to put out for those who might want them, but really he's in the Library for a very different reason. Tohko was always here and it's like he feels spending time here will help him find her again--find that cheerful voice who had so often redirected him when he didn't know what to do next. He almost expects to look up and see her there, smiling and ready to offer her help with what he's working on.
Unfortunately, no matter how long he waits, that will not happen.]
Floor 28 (The Music Room):
[Before even his brother, Labrys had been the first family Diarmuid had in this place. Their bond created during the January experiment, afterward they had talked about learning to play an instrument together, but life in the Tower and his indecisiveness had kept them from doing so. Now, as his hands run over the piano he had once heard her picking a tune out on, the sound of his grief blocks any music the instrument might make.
How is it that one who once lived his life with no regrets has so many of them now?]
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