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{-- I Have Too Much To Leave Behind --} [Open to anyone]
M!A: Joker is walking home from being severely harmed by the Baron when he suffers a fatal hemorrhage and dies; he then watches himself lie helpless and cold on the floor as he becomes a ghost.
My heart hurts~
The ginger staggered down the dark lane; midnight having long deserted him and so had the moonlight. Distant sounds of dogs howling added to the bleak, miserable atmosphere that hung around him. He had truly felt the events of the past few days; nothing but an onslaught of violence and stress onto his body for hours at a time. He was unsure if he even had a sleight of skin on his back that hadn't been sliced, whipped, burnt or broken.
The back of his shirt was saturated in crimson liquid, but he carried on moving; chest tense from the wounds there that kept on bleeding. I have to get home; I promised I would always go back. He kept talking to himself in his head to keep himself alert; but walking on a broken ankle was sheer agony and he could barely see straight from however many times it was his head had been smashed into the concrete floor.
With blood running from his nose, above his eye, inside of his mouth and his lip; the ginger couldn't shift the sick feeling and eventually; he had to spit the metallic contents into the grass just to prevent himself from following it with vomit.
Joker only managed a few more strides before collapsing to his knees, arms wrapping around his stomach. He was so very thickly bruised that he was finding it hard to breathe and eventually, he fell to lay awkwardly on his side; legs twisted and his arm on an uncomfortable angle but he had not the strength to move any more. Only his voice felt like working; almost unable to smell or see anything even immediately in front of him.
"H..help... B-Beast...? D-dagger...?" He called out, though deep down, he knew he was still a mile or so from the circus and he was barely loud enough for his voice to reach the end of the road. He was days overdue going back; but he had always promised he would get back, no matter what it took... he couldn't help but feel that he was going to break that promise this time. His senses were failing him and he was growing frightened.
"P-Please....s-someone....a-anyone..." With his voice as nary more than a whisper, the ginger gave in to the tiredness and shut his eyes; breathing beginning to slow down though he hung on; battling a silent war through the early hours of the freeing morning to hang on to his last tendril of life; hoping, praying someone would find him.
Marlowe quickly fixed her tie as she hurried over to answer the doors. What if it was someone important? All the guests at the manor were important, actually... she couldn't keep them waiting. She pulled the doors open and gave a wide smile to the young man on the other side. "Oh, 'ello, welcome ta the Phantom'ive estate, sir," she greeted brightly. "'Ow can I 'elp y' t'day?"
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Characters: Joker, Edgar Redmond, Aleister Chambers.
Drabble Kind: Regret, Relationship, Hurt
Synopsis: An argument caused the noble to give his Joker some distance, but soon regrets the decision to leave him for too long when the news of a mass fire in Baron Kelvin's Manor reaches his ears during a celebration.
***
Among the fleeing hustle was a blonde; a nobleman by birth. His eyes were wide as he fought against the tide of the crowds, trying his hardest to get away to somewhere more remote, somewhere out of town. His expression was contorted, eyes watering, breaths ragged as if he had been struggling to get to his destination for some time; all signs of sheer desperation and panic.
Finally breaking free from the bustling crows of upper-class snoots and the mingling beggars, Edgar made a break for the countryside. Everything had previously been fine... He had been attending a winter ball with his uncle and the movements had been rather unique and even entertaining to him. It was like no other celebration he had been to previously and thus was enjoying himself, until he overheard the conversation sparked up by a French aristocrat while dancing with a young woman from Denmark. The Frenchman spoke of a manor house just outside of the town, apparently completely engulfed in flames and that the authorities had decided to leave it to burn; nothing to be salvaged and no lives expected to be able to be saved from within the walls. Edgar knew of only one place in that direction... and it was currently the residence of someone he had kept secretive and dear to him for a long time...
He broke away from the party as quickly as he could, uncaring of how rude he seemed to be in doing so; his uncle hadn't even noticed he was gone. Heart pounded as fast as that of a wild stallion, dress shoes tapping against the rough cobbled roads that took him down icy country lanes and pathways. When the outdoor temperature began to rise, he knew he was drawing close and before long, the bitter smell of soot got caught in his nose and billows of smoke rose high into the air on the near horizon. Quickening paces bought on the view of flames; ones that could almost kiss the moon that was so perfectly poised above the manor. An artist wouldn't be able to capture such a scape with just a paintbrush.... it had no words to describe it; only sheer feelings. Feelings of only negative stature; pain, anticipation, dread...
His ginger was in there.
Stomach bile rose and burnt the back of his throat, forcing it back down with a heavy swallow as he moved himself closer into the classic grounds of the once beautiful residence. He was coughing now, his blonde hair being caked in some of the raining ash from the sky; turning it a shining silver.
Desperate plea's rose from his throat as he audibly called out for any life; not just any life... but for the one voice he hoped he would hear again. Their last encounter hadn't been a savory one; violent arguments over one another's welfare, a disagreement on movements and a lack of seeing eye to eye caused them to part ways for just a short while to calm down... though neither moved back to speak over the subject more calmly... and now... now he may not ever have the chance to make up with the only person he seemed to care for in the vile and bitter world that he was forced to reside upon.
Now with salty tears running down his paling cheeks, the young noblemen got as close as he dared to the burning building and fell to his knees; watching parts fall away as the flames cracked and broke down various parts of the wood and plaster that held the structure of the aristocratic building. Finally, he dipped his head in a sorrowful defeat and allowed himself to begin mournfully crying; uncaring since there was nobody around to see his fall into depression and self-hatred. He had told the ginger to go there, after all... it had been only in anger... but it had been his fault, regardless.
Edgar's mind turned to the ringmasters person; his life story playing through his head over and over. He had never had it easy, nothing had ever come to the male without him first working himself to wrack and ruin to obtain it. He felt his heart begin to ache, thinking of his precious juggler inside that burning building... knowing that there wouldn't be anything left for him to bury... no proper resting place... nowhere for the young noble to visit... nowhere he could talk to him in longing.
Looking up through tear-blurred vision, the nobleman could have sword he saw a figure emerging from the flames and simply stared. That was, until he recognised patterned boots and a distinctive cloak wrapped over shoulders and protecting his head. Relief shattered over him like broken glass against a warship and he ran towards the figure, but not before the other collapsed onto the grass.
Edgar, dragged the figure further away from the flamed before dropping back to his knees and cradling his arm under the neck of the male in the hope he would make him more comfortable; only then did he remove the cloak and turn his gaze away to whimper out another sob.
Joker's face was burnt up the one side, beginning to blister over and his eye on the same side had turned white; showing severe burning and the distinctive lack of sight within it. The blonde's eyes travelled further down over his beloved ginger's figure; noting the severe burning continued, as did deep cuts and bruises over his only fleshy arm, an infection breaking out within it as well as what appeared to be glass and bullet wounds to his side and legs. It broke his heart.
The ringmaster opened his other eye; only able to see shadowed figures and outlines of what was around him; his senses shrouded by numbness as well as pain. The blonde caressed his unharmed cheek and let his tears fall onto his face, deciding to carefully cradle his body close to his own to try and let him know that he was there, that he wouldn't leave him, since he couldn't get his voice to respond.
He stayed like that, eventually talking to Joker; voicing only gentle reassurances and apologies, admissions of pure love and the same of fear. He couldn't lose him... not after everything that they had been through together... no, that would prove to be the last straw for the nobleman.
Tangling his fingers into Joker's hair, Edgar pressed a kiss to his forehead and chose to whisper something to him; eyes still laden with tears of agony.
“Joker...” He began, voice breaking, “...You know I love you, right? E-everything I said to you... it meant nothing... I meant none of it... I don't care about all of that... You see, I only care for you, an nothing else upon this god-foresaken planet... You are the only important thing in my life and I would gladly give everything up just to be with you every hour of every day. Joker... you have to say strong... you have to stay with me, and I simply do not care how selfish that sounds... for you are the reason I breathe and if you decide to leave me... decide to move on into the realms of death then... then I fear I shall not be far behind you...” Edgar took in a deep breath; “...but... I also understand... t-that you're in a lot of pain... and I really don' want to see you struggle just for me... it's selfish.... it's uncaring and I just want you to be comfortable... but I promise you... Either way I will find the people that did this and I will bring them to an end myself...”
Joker himself couldn't speak; he was barely conscious, barely able to acknowledge anything that was spoken. But after what seemed like forever shrouded in a silence that only hurt the blonde more; he spoke two single words before losing his consciousness completely. “...Love you.”
Two weeks. Two weeks the ginger ringleader had been in a coma for. How he had gotten to the hospital had been a complete burr for both him and the blonde, but he was now in the best care possible; that of Edgar's Uncle. Sure, he spent most of the time on the wrong side of the law but when one of his own family members had a problem, he would help them... and threatening some of the best medical minds in the country with death if they didn't help proved to be a forte of his... that way, he didn't have to get his own gloves dirty.
Edgar had barely moved from his bedside the entire time; the elder blonde checking on him from time to time and forcing him to eat.
Night wore on and Edgar was asleep with his head dropped onto the mattress by his Joker's side, and was initially unaware of the male waking and looking around with just one sight-holding eye. It was strange for him, such visionary changes... he also felt a certain loss but was unable to pinpoint what it was... not yet. A cough from the ginger woke the blonde and the look of sheer happiness was spread over his face, unable to stop himself from pressing gentle kisses all over the ginger's face and welcoming him back into the land of the living. He shed tears of joy and he caressed his face; Joker unable to stop smiling himself. He had so many questions... some of which were answered just by seeing his beloved there beside him.
The morning came and the ginger had been sat up in the bed, though was still tucked up to his neck in covers. Only when Aleister came back did Edgar pull it down so the ginger could see, and a mirror placed at the foot of the bed. The biggest shock was the loss of his other arm; not yet replaced with anything... it bought back painful memories of when he was a child and was currently the main source of aching pain; painkillers beginning to wear off. His pain didn't stop there, however. He had scarring to the right side of his neck which lapped up onto his face somewhat from the burns and the same patterns followed down the same side of his chest and even his hip. He was covered in bandages and it was explained to him he had to go for extensive surgery to remove bullets from his person as well as hot glass and various other foreign bodies. The lack of sight in his eye was explained also, as well as its now lack of colour.
Joker requested to be alone for a while; Edgar reluctant to leave his side but did once he was ushered by his Uncle. Joker was struggling to come to terms with the dramatic change... and part of him wished he had died that night. But then his dark thoughts turned to that of the look on Edgar's face when he woke; it was the look of pure hope... He had been told the ginger would never wake but... but he believed otherwise and he was right. Joker wouldn't be selfish and slip away just because of the dramatic change... he would simply have to learn to do things again...
Edgar came back in, unhappy with spending any more time away from him;
“ 's all so differen'...” Joker croaked, feeling his throat tighten with upset.
“I know, sweetheart... I know...” Edgar cooed, stroking his ginger's hair and softly pulling his head into his chest so he didn't have to look at his reflection any longer; ordering a nurse to take it away. “...but it doesn't matter... I don't care... I love you, regardless... and... we can get through this... we can conquer anything, remember?”
“I care...” The ringmaster spoke bitterly, head shaking though he nuzzled it deeper into the blonde; tears pricking the corners of his eyes.
“...We can make it work, sweetheart... at least you're alive... you're breathing... That is all I care about... I have you, and that is all that matters to me.”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
His forehead creased into a frown, but he gave his noble no time to react; Bending over to kiss him; his mouth so familiar, so delicious, so tender on his. Giving in, the noble reached up to tangle his hands in his hair, losing himself in the pleasure of his kiss. He never kissed hard, but always with a tender gentleness that somehow contained within it an almost overwhelming passion, and the effect was as intoxicating as he had remembered. He slipped a hand to the small of his back and pulled him close, the warmth of his body inviting him closer as he surrendered to his arms.
