#foreverbehindthismask

Drowning, that’s the only way he could describe the experience. He was expecting a void or C’s world... but this was far different. He felt restrained and constricted, unable to breath but not... struggling?

The pressure was constant, emenating from his chest. That made some sense given his injuries but the fact he felt them was more perplexing...

He should be dead, he shouldn’t feel anything but all he can do is struggle. Before the pressure faded, the darkness around his being retreated and he slowly opened his eyes, hoping it was pass his.. transision.

The Marble surfaces around him did not help calm him. This... was his tomb. It had to be. He struggled to push himself up, seeing himself in a more streamlined version of the straightjacket C.C. used to wear. His back ached but the wound... his chest had sealed up.

His worst fear had been realised, he was immortal. He had to be. It was the only explination to his current situation and he would process the implications when he could get himself clear.

Brooding. Something Lelouch was constantly accused of by his peers and ‘siblings’. taking a moment to ones self when the moment was avaiable was hardly a crime, nor a fault when the world closed in around you.

The boy wasn’t one to take up a vice like smoking, but the chilled air of the night  sliced at his lungs with each breath, the warmth of such haibts held their appeal. Instead he held his hands over the railing, holding one another as he looked out over the city itself. Quiet from here, it glittered before him, Moonlight reflecting of grand towers in the distance, gardens and estates streched out before him, the palace held such a prime spot one could let the outside world.. and the universe at large fade away.

Lelouch vi Britannia had hoped the air would sooth the burning embers in his soul, rage over what had happened to the il Britannia’s as well as his own personal shame for failing to save his own full sibling from those events. His sorrow and anger kept him level, balanced between two extremes he was almost sane. Almost.

Hearing the door behind him open, Lelouch knew who it was and welcomed the newcomer. “Suzaku, I almost thought you were going to sleep in, the implant operation was a long one after all. Are you sure you don’t want any rest?” Turning back, the prince was wearing a Jumpsuit, like all pilots would, with a jacket over the top of it, Black with gold accents running along the arms, the interor of the hood was Red. Lelouch was as wrapped up in Lloyd’s experiments as Suzaku was, even if the Knight was currently the Lord Pudding’s pet project.