Innocence: Synchro-Vate, a d.gray-man fanfic

Innocence: Synchro-Vate

Notes: You see it's like a portmanteau—there are two meanings packed up into one word. - Humpty-Dumpty to Alice (Jabberwocky)

Usual disclaimers apply, for fun and not for profit.

It was given to me, a souvenir of a long ago battle. It is a miniature, never in my imagination - at the time - would it ever occur to me that I'd be able to use it as a weapon. Never in my mind that I'd use a weapon. Be a weapon. Ever.

I only ever observe from the sidelines; wars, from big battles to smaller skirmishes. Sometimes they last mere hours, sometimes weeks, often months. Sometimes they drag on and we're long gone. It's rare, but it is possible to war without casualty. Sadly, oft, the numbers are high.

This thing, it is twenty five centimetres in length from end to end. There is art in its simple design. Somehow being made of wood, inlaid with silver and some unknown alloy. Its head is cylindrical, black with red-and-white paneling. The finial is diamond shaped and its point deadly sharp. It can make a nice puncture. The slim handle is smooth to the touch, with a lustrous, a lacquered feel.

From the sidelines as an impartial witness, I record.

At the time, I remember thinking; if this were real it can maim, destroy - kill. At the the time, I remember thinking; I don't want a keepsake from a war, a battle. Beautiful as it was(is) it's a reminder of how war-mongering only results in pain and suffering. Physical and psychical.

I record, for posterity, that someone a millennia from me, continuing the task I carry out, will read what I write.

Then I realise that History is a record of reminders. Reminders are so we can learn, from our past mistakes and secret histories might help someone decipher the hidden truths behind the wars that humans fight; war after war.

What I write, a millennia from me, when I'm turned to dust and not even ink on paper. It will be 'Bookman's records of the time'. With no name, no matter how many I have.

So I keep it. This replica of a fifteenth century Indo-Persian war hammer. Every now and again I take it out and run my fingers up and down its handle. In moments when I want something else to twirl within my fingers other than a quill. I twirl the hammer. I find its centre of gravity, because of the hammerhead, it is different to turning over something unweighted. I do not know why, but I have kept it safe from harm, from scratches and damage in a cloth pouch I have made from remnants of cloth. It is just a keepsake from a war that is just coded text in a manuscript.

No matter how many I have, the names are never recorded. I just happen to remember them all - because I can.

Until we get to the Black Order and the old man says. We will be soldiers. We will be exorcists, we will wield Innocence. We will wield Weapons of War. I will become a weapon for the Church. I am on my forty-ninth name and a piece of Innocence chooses me. I'm bathed in its soft glowing green light. My skin tingles from its presence, because it is not touch as such.

Because I can, I keep this name the longest I have kept any. This time I might even want to but definitely I will not forget.

I hold the hammer, in my hand and the Innocence reacts to it - or is it the hammer that reacts to the Innocence. This crystal of God. There are terms like Synchro rate, accommodator and activate. The accommodator is like an energy transformer then, and the synchro-rate is akin to a primary-accommodator to secondary-equipment coupling effective energy charge. The higher the rate, the more 'connected' an accommodator to their equipment type weapons, the better the control - the accommodators control. The less likelihood of burnout. At just eighty-four percent. I am apparently on good terms with my Innocence, my weapon. I become an Exorcist, an 'Apostle of God'.

I will not forget, that I am Lavi, the forty ninth me, the Exorcist.

In base terms if you wore your weapon like a lover's embrace and connected with it with all of your soul, bonded with it, your soulmate. Like Yuu. Like Lenalee. Crystallisation - crystal-type. You become super-special - like I've always known Yuu to be anyway, I don't need Innocence, or some other entity to to tell me this - yes, you're super special and you're pegged to be a General. Allen's case is also special, but whatever else the Order has tagged him, as Bookman I will reserve judgement till I witness the truth, as Lavi, I will reserve judgement.

The Exorcist, who is a Bookman-in-training. These are the hardest roles I have to play.

Because at eighty-four percent, I can control my Innocence well enough and with training I become an effective fighter in this War against the Earl, the Noah and the Akuma. But at just eighty-four percent I do not have the grace of Lenalee and her Dark Boots, which become ankle-bangles when deactivated. A very nice touch for a female exorcist, to have your Innocence as well as make a fashion statement. I smile. At this level I do not have the elegance of movement of Kanda being at one with Mugen. It is quite breathtaking, the swiftness and flow of motion. Even Marie, I am guessing has far exceeded mine with the haunting hymns of his strings.

These are the hardest roles I have to play because I have to balance being a weapon and being an impartial observer.

I cannot exceed this self-imposed limit, because I cannot become a crystal-type. So Gramps tells me. I have to keep this balance, but it is getting more difficult. It's becoming quite the challenge to keep from being truly Lavi, and the smiles are real. Or at least more in reality and with true feeling behind them. The concern for any comrade in battle is quite, quite real. How can the tears that come unbidden when Lenalee asks me if she is still of this world - not be real? They come from a space, that is not supposed to even be.

… and being an impartial observer, as I record history and watch the people I have learned to call and care for as friends, as comrades fall around me.

With this self imposed limit, my control of the elements, whether it is wood, wind or sky; whether it is a snake of hellfire or the lightnings of heaven, is just so. I have trained to learn to effect my Innocence better, but… and this I've noticed - I don't know if old Bookman has or not - but lately I think this limit is increasing. Increments so small that are irreversible, my Innocence, that chose me, does not believe in this limit, it does not believe that, THIS is ALL I can do. So it is stretching itself, stretching me without permission and I do not think it wants to be stopped.

As friends fall all around me… I wonder, as a Bookman will, I wonder as Lavi does.

If I can even keep to this fine balancing act. Can I only ever observe from the sidelines?

Now that I am a wielder of Innocence, it chose me. Now that my hammer, it was given to me.

Innocence, synchro-rate. Activate.

Fin

Notes: This is for posting date 16 August. So if it's your birthday then, Happy Birthday!

This IS two days late, depending where in the world you are. So now I'm two behind. Eek!

This is unedited, so likely its sprinkled with mistakes ...(it's 2:50 am here and I'm up at 5:15 - 'sleep deprived' is me) - I apologise greatly for that. Anything glaring please do let me know. ^_^

Eighty four percent because this series (D. Gray as well) is all about the 7's. 14, 35, 49, 7000, also 7 is my number.

Yet more Lavi centric musings, because my brain refuses to work any other way, as usual really nothing of note happens at all, but I hope someone somewhere likes them anyways.

And really you are all wonderful, because you read. You are so loved - Zan

ps - if any one would like to push prompts/nudge ideas my way they are more than welcome to. I can not promise anything mind-blowing but I can promise to try my best.

Part 17 of the 49 Days series

(edit 2017 - really anyone wants anything Lavi written - do PM me with a whatever - I will do my best. Even if you come to this a lot of time after the posting date)