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shiro2hero) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
deercountry2022-05-12 09:40 am
shiro2hero) wrote in deercountry2022-05-12 09:40 am
is this how it is? how it's always been?
Who: Shiro & Open
What: May Catch-All
When: All throughout the month
Where: Mouse House, The Beach, Willful Machine
Content Warnings: Grief, isolation, corruption symptoms, mild monstrous body horror
GRIEF | physical / emotional corruption signs
((ooc: if you want anything specific let me know !! Or throw your own starter in and I'll roll with it. I'll match format, too! Action or Prose.)
What: May Catch-All
When: All throughout the month
Where: Mouse House, The Beach, Willful Machine
Content Warnings: Grief, isolation, corruption symptoms, mild monstrous body horror
GRIEF | physical / emotional corruption signs
MOUSE HOUSE
A lot has happened. None of it has been particularly good. Like the blows keep coming and coming, while you're trying to dodge and weave around them all. And failing. Picking yourself up is almost impossible. But... he has to. Shiro has to. There are still people here who depend on him. There are still people here who need someone.
So he picks himself up. Every single day. He makes his rounds through the house, ostensibly checking on the occupants - What do you need? Can I do anything? How are you? But, privately, to make sure they're all still there. He is fine, because he has to be. Because the only person he can fall apart around is hurting just as badly. Or worse.
And if he wakes up to the multitude of scars crossing his body turning a darker shade, then... well. It's just the month. Just the Trench weirdness.
Anyone living or visiting the house is subject to the same questions - the same constant checking. Though his voice is tighter, the lines under his eyes heavier.
Are you okay? he'll ask.
He's fine.
MONSTERS | TDM Mirror Prompt
A lot has happened. None of it has been particularly good. Like the blows keep coming and coming, while you're trying to dodge and weave around them all. And failing. Picking yourself up is almost impossible. But... he has to. Shiro has to. There are still people here who depend on him. There are still people here who need someone.
So he picks himself up. Every single day. He makes his rounds through the house, ostensibly checking on the occupants - What do you need? Can I do anything? How are you? But, privately, to make sure they're all still there. He is fine, because he has to be. Because the only person he can fall apart around is hurting just as badly. Or worse.
And if he wakes up to the multitude of scars crossing his body turning a darker shade, then... well. It's just the month. Just the Trench weirdness.
Anyone living or visiting the house is subject to the same questions - the same constant checking. Though his voice is tighter, the lines under his eyes heavier.
Are you okay? he'll ask.
He's fine.
THE BEACH
His scars have blackened. Like marks of fire across his skin. He's been sitting on the shoreline so long, honestly, he hasn't noticed. I just need some air - he'd said. Just needed to step out. Step away from being ... he doesn't even know anymore. Wanting to be of service, wanting to make a difference and not being able to do a damned thing. The need to help, the need to do some good somewhere in this place has been driving him through the losses.
But what real difference has any of it made?
The guilt swirls in and out like the surf. Maybe he'd gotten too complacent. Maybe he'd done something wrong. Maybe if they'd acted faster on their plans against a certain familiar face here - a certain "Mother Mercy", then...
Maybes. What if's. Guilt. His shoulders ache, his scars itch.
Communicate, he'd been advised. Advised and bottled up. Put away on a shelf for a day when Shiro didn't have to shoulder the world. When he feels like two more names need to be added to the list of people he couldn't save.
But there's still people congregating on the boardwalk. There's still the plethora of spring food and celebration going on. Maybe he should go up there and grab some?
Maybe he needs some convincing - or, at least, someone to drag him off the sand.
His scars have blackened. Like marks of fire across his skin. He's been sitting on the shoreline so long, honestly, he hasn't noticed. I just need some air - he'd said. Just needed to step out. Step away from being ... he doesn't even know anymore. Wanting to be of service, wanting to make a difference and not being able to do a damned thing. The need to help, the need to do some good somewhere in this place has been driving him through the losses.
But what real difference has any of it made?
The guilt swirls in and out like the surf. Maybe he'd gotten too complacent. Maybe he'd done something wrong. Maybe if they'd acted faster on their plans against a certain familiar face here - a certain "Mother Mercy", then...
Maybes. What if's. Guilt. His shoulders ache, his scars itch.
Communicate, he'd been advised. Advised and bottled up. Put away on a shelf for a day when Shiro didn't have to shoulder the world. When he feels like two more names need to be added to the list of people he couldn't save.
But there's still people congregating on the boardwalk. There's still the plethora of spring food and celebration going on. Maybe he should go up there and grab some?
Maybe he needs some convincing - or, at least, someone to drag him off the sand.
MONSTERS | TDM Mirror Prompt
WILLFUL MACHINE | BEFORE
Those bottled up emotions feel as if they're drowning him. So he stalks through the city, now. On a mission he'd promised someone else he'd take up. One more thing to try and mitigate the loss. To try and make useless blood and we don't need you anymore into something worthwhile. Try to hunt a monster. A man on a mission.
Despite the fact he's still wearing his right arm tied to his chest in an immobilizing sling, but oh well. At least he's wearing his armor this time, black and white armor that probably stands out in the Trench streets. There's no other outlet for these feelings. Talking it out only puts the burden on other people, especially those that are also hurting.
So - he's out looking for the weird tentacle thing Min-Gi had told him about. He's not sure if he'll find it. But hey - he won't turn down backup, thankfully. Catch him about anywhere in this area, patrolling.
... You may have to be quick, because while Shiro won't turn down help, he has a tendency to duck his head away from familiar faces.
Those bottled up emotions feel as if they're drowning him. So he stalks through the city, now. On a mission he'd promised someone else he'd take up. One more thing to try and mitigate the loss. To try and make useless blood and we don't need you anymore into something worthwhile. Try to hunt a monster. A man on a mission.
Despite the fact he's still wearing his right arm tied to his chest in an immobilizing sling, but oh well. At least he's wearing his armor this time, black and white armor that probably stands out in the Trench streets. There's no other outlet for these feelings. Talking it out only puts the burden on other people, especially those that are also hurting.
So - he's out looking for the weird tentacle thing Min-Gi had told him about. He's not sure if he'll find it. But hey - he won't turn down backup, thankfully. Catch him about anywhere in this area, patrolling.
... You may have to be quick, because while Shiro won't turn down help, he has a tendency to duck his head away from familiar faces.
ANYWHERE IN TRENCH | AFTER {cw: mild monstrous body horror}
Just some window shopping. Maybe bring something back home - brighten up his partner's day. Something like that.
Except... reflective glass. Reflections. The first time Shiro passes one, it's normal. He just looks as exhausted and scarred and weary as always. So he sighs, shakes his head. And keeps walking. Maybe he should just go home -
No sooner does he think that, then, abruptly, he sees another shape in the glass. It may have been himself, once. But now it's grown. It's turned from human to some awful monstrosity. Some sort of huge, hulking brute, its right arm a twisted mockery of metal and wire. The scar across its face mirrors his own, but deeper, more ragged, like something had attempted to cut its entire head in half. It stares at him, its eyes cold, glazed yellow.
Winks.
And suddenly, it is shambling down the streets. All the locked up, boiling restlessness in Shiro's chest itching to be released.
And no sooner does it find someone than it decides it would like to brawl. Right there in the street. With the real Shiro trapped along for the ride, locked in its head.
Perfect.
Just some window shopping. Maybe bring something back home - brighten up his partner's day. Something like that.
Except... reflective glass. Reflections. The first time Shiro passes one, it's normal. He just looks as exhausted and scarred and weary as always. So he sighs, shakes his head. And keeps walking. Maybe he should just go home -
No sooner does he think that, then, abruptly, he sees another shape in the glass. It may have been himself, once. But now it's grown. It's turned from human to some awful monstrosity. Some sort of huge, hulking brute, its right arm a twisted mockery of metal and wire. The scar across its face mirrors his own, but deeper, more ragged, like something had attempted to cut its entire head in half. It stares at him, its eyes cold, glazed yellow.
Winks.
And suddenly, it is shambling down the streets. All the locked up, boiling restlessness in Shiro's chest itching to be released.
And no sooner does it find someone than it decides it would like to brawl. Right there in the street. With the real Shiro trapped along for the ride, locked in its head.
Perfect.
((ooc: if you want anything specific let me know !! Or throw your own starter in and I'll roll with it. I'll match format, too! Action or Prose.)
Monsters - After
Vyng locks eyes with the massive figure shambling toward him.
"Nice, uh. Nice day out, eh?"
no subject
Unfortunately for the both of them, Shiro doesn't get a say in this. Shiro can only sit in the back of his head and yell out warnings that don't come. Nothing comes out but a low, angry noise he didn't think he was capable of making. That's the only warning Vyng gets before Shiro's body just lunges.
It winds the grossly oversized arm back, intending to smash into Vyng right then and there.
no subject
At least by winding his arm, it's telegraphing its attack. Vyng takes several nimble steps backward. And with a swipe of his own arm, a gust of wind knocks an unattended cart directly into the creature's path.
For a moment, he considers reaching for his spear. But there's traces of something familiar here, aren't there? His eyes rake across the hulking form in front of him. Maybe there's some other identifying features...
no subject
That... may be an identifier.
Or the scar made deeper, darker, bloodier across the figure's face. Every feature turned uglier, more hideous by the mirror. The thing Shiro believes he sees in his nightmares.
no subject
"Shiro! You in there, buddy?"
no subject
But he still isn't in the driver's seat.
The monster in the mirror is.
It lunges forward. Following Vyng's retreat as fast as it can. That's about all the coherent thought it can manage - follow the target. Fight the target. Use up the energy and emotion. Throw more broken bits of cart at Vyng when it can't immediately hit him.
no subject
He's well aware these attacks are intended for him. May as well leverage that to keep the market safe. So Vyng jumps up onto the black awning of a trinket stall. The cloth barely bends beneath his light feet.
"C'mon, man!" he shouts. With the weightlessness of freshly-fallen snow, he dances over to the next stall. And then the next. "This way!"
no subject
It even scrambles down on all fours, in an attempt to chase after Vyng better.
Whether or not that's at all effective remains to be seen. It's definitely tenacious. Shiro's body may be tired - not even he can keep up an intense attempt at attacks for ages - but the Mirror-thing is relentless.
no subject
But...hurting Shiro is the last thing he wants to do. Even through the trauma of the Summoning Stones and being reincarnated into a new world, Vyng hasn't forgotten the compassion his friend showed to him when he lost his humanity in the Dream.
"It's okay, buddy," he huffs under his breath. "You're gonna be fine—"
He leaps off an awning, twisting his body so that his feet touch the side of a building, a solid 8 feet from the ground. But instead of tumbling downward, he leverages the air to give him the momentum he needs...to run along the wall, down into an alleyway.
no subject
... some part of him, the part that's still Shiro, thinks it's wildly unfair his friend can run on walls like that. How cool is that!
The rest of him is in pursuit. Practically tearing through the corner of the building to get to the alleyway. To get to where the shape darting across the walls is going. This mirror creature wants to harm and rip and tear as much as Shiro wants the absolute opposite of that.