What if I wanted to break?

[Video]

[It's just barely still light out, hard as it is to tell in the dim video view of his room, but you can kind of see Subaru standing out by the open window. The journal has a very deliberate angle at him, in fact, as it always seems to. He's not smoking for once.

He seems almost tired though, leaning against the windowsill, his eyes away from clear view.]

[For a long time, it's just silence, barely controlled breaths--if you're one that knows better, you might recognize the signs of pain.

Then a frustrated whisper (is that a hiss there?)]

It seemed like it had passed already.

[Well damn.]

[ooc: "replay" of the vampire event, because I'm late and this pinged me a lot okay, shhhh]

[Getting in one last post before the event's over, yeahhhhh.]

[So the journal records video, of Subaru just sitting among the rubble on the edge of the protective barrier, looking beyond it, frowning. After a while, you can hear him mumbling, sort of as if he's thinking aloud. The journal's whacked out enough that the video actually cuts off early on but the audio continues:]

Not just wounded, but hungry, thirsty. And among them, there's those who are sick.

[Sick from...]

From what?

[An exasperated sigh, just a little rough--there's not enough water to quench parched throats, this has gone on so long the supplies thin out all the more as the time passes, and Subaru's not about to take more than he absolutely needs.]

Would it cause such a thing just like that?

[Video]

[He wasn't one for holidays, really. In fact, if anything, Subaru was really, abysmally bad at it. He almost forgot about the thing entirely, if not for leaving his sister a present--carefully picked out, because Hokuto deserved at least that much.]

[Still, tonight, he's alone, and hard-pressed to be found, hanging out in a particularly snowy area in the park, smoking as per usual and leaning back, examining the by-now-passed novelty of the white surroundings. Something about seems to be nagging at him.

Or perhaps, it's something else entirely.]

[He's moving to put out his cigarette when he notices the book, lying on the snowy ground and for a moment, he doesn't quite realize, in the dim light--you can see the change in his expression at the realization that the journal is, of course, recording.]

[Sigh.]

I suppose I should have expected it. It's been a while. [He doesn't switch the thing off right away, frowning, before saying right as the video cuts off on its own:]

I wonder why it is that I've never anything to say.

( [Private] )

[And hay look, not a video for once. He's still writing, if a bit hesitantly. Hurray.]

I'm- [...] Maybe there's another way to go about this; I'm not sure.

I wondered if there was anyone needing assistance or otherwise offering employment. I guess that might sound strange from someone that's already been here some time.

I'd like to help, regardless.

[Accidental video]

[The journal is sitting, quite peacefully and ever so innocently on a beside table, and at first, the recording is perfectly normal, almost--a room, if a little quiet, seemingly empty. It almost didn't seem like a room that was "lived" in at all. The angle is off briefly, but starts focus as, after a few moments, Subaru walks in from another part of the room, clothes sort of messy on him and a towel pressed to his face, drying it.]

[He feels tired, and confused and... angry at himself for what had happened only a couple days ago--because, really, at the end of the day, those reactions and feelings of his younger self... They were his responsibility to bear too. That much, Subaru couldn't be convinced against.]

[And it sounds in his voice and shows in his "eye" as he brings the towel down and reveals his face, murmuring something absently to the effect of his thoughts. It's not quite audible but perhaps not hard to guess at either.

When he moves closer, it's to set the cloth down on another table, examining the bandages he'd left there to re-do and not noticing the journal. After a moment's consideration, he doesn't pick them up; his eye, shown clearly on the recording, is fully healed, has been perhaps for some time.]

I guess... I don't need these anymore at his point.

[Today's video is brought to you courtesy of the journal-tan that somehow~*~ propped itself up on a park bench, in perfect angle to record Subaru not too far off, leaning against a tree and it's that weird hour of the day when it's not quite morning but not quite night anymore either.]

[There's a cigarette in his mouth and a few other exhausted ones can be seen scattered around his feet. Taking a drag, Subaru coughs out the smoke in a way that seems to only betray his frustration.]

[He takes it out and holds it in his hands, leaning back on the tree, sighing and now that his other hand comes into view, it betrays the wedding band in his palm. It's... been two weeks and he still hasn't brought himself to get rid of the damn thing.

For a moment, Subaru only stares at it.]


I won't--

[A moment later, his palm curls into a fist and he straightens, tense--and as he tosses the ring into the bushes along the path and the video abruptly cuts off.]

[Accidental Video]

[The first shot of video is the vague features of a room, until it focuses--journal lying on a pillow and showing Subaru sitting on the edge of the bed, back turned, bandages on the bed beside him as he changes the wrap for a fresh set. You can only see the back of his head as he does this (lol sparing everyone gross eye videos?!), but his voice is a bit more clear, if delayed:]

It's taking less time than I would have expected. Because of the magic here?

That it can... do things like this as well...

[...][Sigh]

... Maybe it in the end, it doesn't matter, after all. I...

[Can't get what happened with Seishirou out of his mind. Ffffff. Anyone with a sharp eye can see him clenching a fist tightly for a while before the feed cuts off as he sets to finish changing the bandages.]

I admit, I'm not... really sure what I should write here. I may need [--Nah, I'm fine.] They said... I'd be able to find others. Are they able to read this? What "others"?

[There's a recorded sigh, and a break in the writing as Subaru whispers to himself, frustrated and sounding guilty:] He'll worry more, if I'm not there. Especially now. I shouldn't...

[And written again:] I'd appreciate any help or, at least, an explanation. I haven't gotten much of one so far.