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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.)
no subject
Or that it had even had an effect at all. He'd really, sincerely thought it was just another failure of his. Just one more thing that didn't work. That he didn't try hard enough to manage. It's always that he's not trying enough.
Always.
But not this time, apparently? He hadn't expected immediate, perfect results of any of the methods. Just hearing he'd made a difference...
"Like when he first woke up?" Shiro remembers that. How upset Ryan had been. And then how elated. "I remember when that happened."
A nod. It sounds like a good plan. Get yourself figured out before venturing into new territory. Made a lot of sense, actually. "I told him if I met anyone, I'd let him know. Haven't yet, but I will, still."
no subject
"Of course I used it, man. It helped a ton. Like. I dunno, it just tugged things back into focus? It's hard to explain, but...it was a good thing."
He can't actually speak for whether or not it helped Min, but he also discovered the hard way that he and Min have really different needs while they're corrupted. Bare minimum though, it helped him.
"Ha, yeah. He...does that," he says, realizing it's an absolutely wild thing to say. "He's done it a few other times since he got here? Like, if he's hurt or overwhelmed or something. The first time it happened after he came back I kinda panicked and threw him in the tub? But it's pretty sweet he can do that. I can't go squid on command."
Ryan nods back though. A good, solid plan on Shiro's part too.
"Makes sense. I...don't think I actually know any darkbloods super well? I wouldn't even know who to bug about it."
no subject
No, seriously, he is. One tiny bright spot in a sea of failure. He's made one little difference. One good change. "If you ever need a refresher, you guys know where to find me."
If Min will consider talking to him again, that is.
But wait, processing. Min can apparently squid on command. Or on panic. Depending the situation. Can anyone else do that? Maybe Vyng - or maybe he should at least tell Vyng about that. It wouldn't change what his friend lost, but maybe it'd help. "That... does explain the ink stains in the tub a while back..."
They could have used Allura's bathroom, but... Shiro still isn't ready to open that closed off room. Or that scar.
"I know of one, at least. Will's boyfriend Mike. Maybe they can talk, at least..."
no subject
Is he joking? It's unclear! But he does grin and finger gun in Shiro's direction, so...probably.
"Yeeeeah. Sorry about that. Whoops," he laughs. "I got them out eventually?"
And that's obviously what matters here! The tub is fine and Min is currently more human than Ryan right now, so it's all good.
Mike. That sounds familiar...it takes Ryan a moment or two to figure out why he knows Mike. Are they thinking of the same Mike? There are a lot of Mikes out there, but he's preeeetty sure he talked to one recently...
"Oh! The Orange Soda guy!" he says, with a snap of his fingers. "The one who was talking about that nightmare horse pizza delivery thing! I didn't know he was a dark blood. Maybe he'd be up for that? I'll have to bug Min about it."