who's seen jezebel? | september catch-all

[acidjail]

Who: Mercymorn the First, Paul Atreides, Ortus Nigenad, and you
What: September catch-all, open and closed prompts
When: Throughout September
Where: Trench and other Trench

Content Warnings: Cults, body horror, psychological horror, violence, death, marked by thread

Comments

hell yeah, let's BUGGE FITE

[terriblepurpose]

Paul takes Bakugou's momentary pause to listen to him as sign enough of agreement, even before he joins Paul in heated pursuit. Paul can trust in his competency as much as he trusts in Midoriya's, even with the briefness of their acquaintance - it's really Midoriya's trust that he adopts, a token of respect for both of them.

And this is what necessity demands of him, anyway, because there is no chance in this or any other universe that Paul will waste time on hesitation today. His cloak sheds behind him, sloughed off to reveal close-fitted blackened leather and cloth, a mask hanging around his neck not unlike a variation of Deku's own hero gear. The blindfold comes into sight, as does the gleam that ekes out around its edges, but it doesn't seem to affect his ability to dart across the uneven terrain to the clearing ahead.

"Understood!" Paul calls back, crisply tactical, when they're on the verge of contact with the hulking Beast that can already be glimpsed through the trees ahead by anyone with eyes to see it - and then they burst into the open space, and the situation clarifies itself.

The Bugge of legend towers above them, a solid wall of muscle under matted fur, slavering gobs of dark saliva from a maw pulled back in a rictus of hunger. In front of it, trilling frantically, quivering in every limb, is a much smaller Beast, barely larger than either of the two boys. It's a silver furred thing itself, a radial arrangement of overly jointed humanoid arms around a knuckle of a torso, with a head that is almost human in shape, except for the pair of hands that sprout from its sides and fold over its features to conceal them. On one wrist, a charred, dull band of metal sits, with a cracked stone in its setting. It cowers under the dread gaze of the Bugge, with old wounds raked across its limbs that match the thing's claws.

Next to the Bugge, Paul is a slip of shadow, his spear no more than a splinter. He skids to a halt at the periphery, levelling it at the titan, and draws his lips back in a snarl of his own.

"Alala!" His voice lashes out like a heavy chain, shockingly forceful from such a slender frame - a voice made for command, for the rallying cry. "Come here, if you want it!"

The words themselves don't matter. They mean nothing to the Beasts. But they do catch the Bugge's attention, and its baleful stare twists towards them in a wash of icy, unnatural terror.

"Come on," Paul says, with quiet, bitten off intensity, "Come on, come on -"

The Bugge snorts. It rears back, pivoting its bulk to face them, and lowers its mighty head - and then it charges.

rubs a big fat middle finger in dreamwidth's faaaaace

[detonating]

Opposite of Paul, Katsuki does have a sense of caution when it comes to charging straight into battle with him. It doesn't come from a place of doubt--he knows personally that Paul can fight. Instead, it centers from the memory of their mutual green haired companion in the blond's own first days in Trench. Corrupted, weakened from self neglect, distraught because of the weight of his own failures as a hero. They had had to track his ass down and drag him home, he'd watched Izuku sob his eyes out over his inability to stop Paul's death while Katsuki washed his back for him. It was a really hard pill to swallow, being the one to receive the burden of Izuku's grief back then... and here, in the now, he's already decided that he won't be allowing it to happen again. Not on his watch. Paul is competent, and he's not going to tell him to stay back or coddle his ass here. He can do whatever the fuck he wants... except that. Dying. And so... that is how Paul Atreides gains Katsuki Bakugou's full loyalty in the battlefield.

When they hit the clearing and the explosive teenager gets his eyes on the towering beast, he falters. Skidding to a complete stop for a second, expression shocked and beyond alarmed. Paul is blind folded and it becomes immediately apparently that that is an advantage Katsuki does not have. Just like the black-hole at the end of the catacombs stint with Vi, the moment he looks into the face of this absolute fucking monster his blood is running cold. Heart stuttering in his chest with an immense sense of terror. Fuck! Fuck! Move! Move you fucking idiot!! Over and over in his mind, limbs still refusing to cooperate even through his own mental berating.

It's the sound of Paul's voice, Paul who he has just vowed to himself to protect, saying'Come on, come on' and the thundering sound of the charge itself that disrupts the hold on him. Tearing his gaze down from that drooling, snarling face and those horrifically mesmerizing eyes, Katsuki springs into action with arms that swing back behind him to release a blast that rockets him up forward with great speed, to get in front of Paul and the beast he aims to protect.

The Bugge closes on the trio just as the young aspiring hero snaps his arms forward, hands coming together in front of him to seemingly form around an invisible ball in between them. A red hot glow emits from his palms, and then--

FWOOMSH

Point Blank Stun Grenade! An immense, blinding flash of light emanating in the clearing has the Bugge rearing back with a bone shaking roar. Got him! Katsuki's stance changes again, those explosive hands behind him once more and angling downward towards the ground but before he has the chance to release his quirk and start his attack, the Bugge moves. It has better response time and is faster than Katsuki anticipated for an opponent so large, and the heavy swing of claws bats him to the side before he can do anything else. The teen flies through the air, and smashes into a tree hard--enough to have bile forcing it's way up into his throat and out of his mouth, then to the ground with an audible thud as he chokes for the air that's been knocked clean out of him.

The creature's attention zeroes back in on Paul and the smaller beast. Boom. Boom. BOOM. Each crashing smash of it's feet shake the forest floor, closing in on them. The enraged snarl comes with a sickening sloughing off of a drool and blood mixture from it's sharp, hungry mouth and it's drawing an arm back to crush them in a blow--

BOOM!

A large, heavy explosion hits from the side, sending Bugge flying out of their immediate vicinity just as it had just done to the teen. Katsuki drops from the air to the ground, just a few feet from where he previously stood in front of Paul, down on one knee for just a second. The blond looks fucking pissed as he shakily straightens up--he's covered in dirt and crushed dried leaves, there's blood starting to drip down the side of his face as he's wiping at his mouth to clear what he'd ejected moments ago. Panting heavily with his deadly glare staying pinned to the creature he's gotten put at a distance. Last time he was hit hard enough to literally spill his guts out like that, it was a punch from All Might, and this? This piece of shit ain't even remotely comparable to the power of fucking All Might. It's unacceptable.

He has limited time to get his bearings, prepare for his next attack and bark at his companion.

"Whatever the fuck you're gonna do with that thing, do it!" The blond grinds that out harshly as he undoes the clasp to his own cloak, letting it drop to the ground unceremoniously as he swings his other arm up to take aim with one of the large grenade shaped gauntlets he wears. The other hand moves to hook a finger in the pin, but he doesn't pull it right away. He's waiting and still watching, for the Bugge to get back on it's feet and charge its way back, and for Paul to act. Katsuki bought a minute for them, if that, and when their time is up and the beast is bearing down on them again, he's going to see how it likes the full power of his quirk straight to the face.

And then the real fun will begin. He's gonna fuck this motherfucker up.

cw: eye injury (non-graphic)

[terriblepurpose]

From the start, Paul understands that he and Bakugou operate on two very different levels of combat. It isn't even a matter of raw power or finessed skill, but the nature of what they are capable of. Bakugou may be better understood as mobile artillery than a single combatant, Paul thinks - highly mobile artillery, he amends, as Bakugou wrests himself from where he was flung and throws himself back into the midst of chaos with those thunderous blasts.

They have no method or moment of communicating to each other that both of them are aligned in the conviction that the other won't be felled here, and it may be for the best that they can't, with how it might slow them down in insistence that the other be the priority. Unspoken, it aligns them better towards the same goal, although they fall into very different means of seeking to achieve it.

Bakugou flings himself at the Bugge like a meteor, and Paul flits between the currents of the other three parts of the battle - Bugge, Epsilon, and Bakugou - like a seed spiralling ahead of outstretched fingertips, untouchable and intent in the radiant near-now.

Speed is one of the most critical aspects of a battle like this. To strike the Bugge down as swiftly as they can reduces the risks for all of them, the skeins of possibility penned in safer waters, but Paul and Epsilon impose limits on the force Bakugou can bring to bear at close range. This is the problem Paul sets himself to solving as he weaves for time, herding and provoking in turns the smaller Beast as he can to stay out of reach of claw or flame or baleful gaze.

The sea medallion on his chest glows through his armor like a heart, like the lighthouse of his eyes, and in the precious minute Bakugou buys for them with his blood and breath, Paul sees exactly what he has to do.

His spear arcs over Bakugou's head trailing ephemeral black smoke, lightened by the possession of his Omen as it flies unerring into the Bugge's left eye. Paul does not watch its path, pivoting on his heel and sprinting to the hissing, furious Epsilon, fist curled around a far more valuable weapon as he throws himself into the embrace of the rearing Beast's outstretched arms.

Epsilon seizes Paul up in their grasp and snarls, the fingers of their face tenting as they recognize their tormentor. On its hindarms, it powers them both towards the closest hard surface, and it is Paul's turn to strike unyielding bark and break against it. Pain electrifies his left arm, but what he needs is in his right, and as the Beast parts its hands to reveal its rasping maw, Paul smiles serenely at it.

"Clear!" He calls out to Bakugou, and slaps the Moon Drop against Epsilon's convulsing heart.