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deercountry2022-09-18 01:29 pm
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Entry tags:
All that I am
Who: Allen Walker and Shouto Todoroki with guest appearances by The Fourteenth...
What: September Paleblood effects, and getting trapped in a version of Allen's horrific world and life for a time courtesy of a cursed book/the Absolute Immersion prompt 🙂 Many CW for mentions and flashbacks of Allen's very abusive childhood. also red light districts. (to date: pet death/abuse, child abuse, suicidal impulses of a child)
When: Later September
Where: Their house, and then Victorian England sorta
[ When Shouto had become blind, it had been Allen who fret and fussed more than he needed to. Hovering by his side and always ready to take his arm and steer him gently this way or that, explaining whatever the goings-on were with an animated chatter born first from concern and then increasingly just out of enjoying conversing so later on. Describing the world and especially the people around them like someone reading a particularly good story aloud might and getting caught up in it with an actual delight.
It wasn't so bad for him after all, he'd say, since he lost first his sense of taste (that was insulting but something he dealt with just by pouting at dinnertime) and then touch. Annoyances more than anything, nothing that bad. Touch bothered him more than he thought it would, leaving him staring down at his hands with an unsettled expression from time to time when he thought no one was looking, but he tried to avoid letting that on.
When Allen lost his sense of sight, he became almost unsettlingly... quiet, actually. Not complaining even a little. But off, perpetually distracted and a little jumpy at the slightest noise or sense of movement. With it ironically around the same time Shouto finally regained his own vision. Something he expressed relief for -- it'd be rather silly and unfortunate for them to both lose their sense of sight at the same time, wouldn't it? -- but that was a little hollow too.
Whether Shouto thought to read to him or it happened by accident when Allen was half-dozing near him one day when he asked him out of bored senseless curiosity what he was reading, it was one of the few things that made him perk up. Even if he usually dozed off on him, it was comfortably and amicably so and eased a lot of his restlessness. Something he started to look forward to and ask him a little more eagerly each time what he was reading that day.
Today, he wrinkled his nose at the smell of this new book when he came back with it. Musty and old, and something that just... unsettled him on some very deep, instinctive level. Like if black magic had a smell. Easy enough to pass off at the explanation it was handed to him from someone in Gaze offering free books to passerby, everything there was a little weird and derelict, and the explanation it was a story (apparently) about an exorcist who saved souls was enough to both baffle and intrigue him. Weirdly... spot on, wasn't that? But curiosity alone was a good enough reason for him to shelve any misgivings and settle in, leaning his chin on his shoulder and peering over like he was actually trying to peek at the pages he couldn't see. Also, Shouto's monotone could put anyone at ease (and to sleep). Allen's disarmed and lulled off pretty quickly, relaxing as the tale begins and meanders vaguely around a nameless boy who loved too much. Who was thrown at odds against the home he had always known first for wanting to save those they wanted him to destroy, and then for finding out he was fated to become their enemy and the very thing that would destroy them and the world.
Allen stops dozing off and becomes very awake. Very quiet, and very still.
Shouto can get to the part where the boy says goodbye and leaves in order to keep his home safe, and that's when Allen will fumble for his hand. Grasping his wrist tightly with alarmed urgency. ]
Shouto. [ It's laced with a strange sort of fear, a rising panic. Stop reading.
It's also too late.
Reality... warps. Uncomfortably so, like vertigo but pulling your soul inside-out instead of your stomach. It feels like falling. Falling forward into freefall, which... is accurate. At first it feels like falling into a vacuum, and then the wind is quickly rushing past their ears. They burst through what feels like a thin glass pane of light that shatters harmlessly around them and melt away, geometric patterns in the sky, and the air is crisp and cold; the first kiss of winter, and for the first time smelling clean and entirely without the odor of blood, decay, and industry that clings to Trench. Into the middle of a city park, rows of brick Victorian buildings lining the sides of it with a clocktower and castle in the distance.
They're also about fifty feet up in the air, upside-down and in rapid freefall. ]
What: September Paleblood effects, and getting trapped in a version of Allen's horrific world and life for a time courtesy of a cursed book/the Absolute Immersion prompt 🙂 Many CW for mentions and flashbacks of Allen's very abusive childhood. also red light districts. (to date: pet death/abuse, child abuse, suicidal impulses of a child)
When: Later September
Where: Their house, and then Victorian England sorta
[ When Shouto had become blind, it had been Allen who fret and fussed more than he needed to. Hovering by his side and always ready to take his arm and steer him gently this way or that, explaining whatever the goings-on were with an animated chatter born first from concern and then increasingly just out of enjoying conversing so later on. Describing the world and especially the people around them like someone reading a particularly good story aloud might and getting caught up in it with an actual delight.
It wasn't so bad for him after all, he'd say, since he lost first his sense of taste (that was insulting but something he dealt with just by pouting at dinnertime) and then touch. Annoyances more than anything, nothing that bad. Touch bothered him more than he thought it would, leaving him staring down at his hands with an unsettled expression from time to time when he thought no one was looking, but he tried to avoid letting that on.
When Allen lost his sense of sight, he became almost unsettlingly... quiet, actually. Not complaining even a little. But off, perpetually distracted and a little jumpy at the slightest noise or sense of movement. With it ironically around the same time Shouto finally regained his own vision. Something he expressed relief for -- it'd be rather silly and unfortunate for them to both lose their sense of sight at the same time, wouldn't it? -- but that was a little hollow too.
Whether Shouto thought to read to him or it happened by accident when Allen was half-dozing near him one day when he asked him out of bored senseless curiosity what he was reading, it was one of the few things that made him perk up. Even if he usually dozed off on him, it was comfortably and amicably so and eased a lot of his restlessness. Something he started to look forward to and ask him a little more eagerly each time what he was reading that day.
Today, he wrinkled his nose at the smell of this new book when he came back with it. Musty and old, and something that just... unsettled him on some very deep, instinctive level. Like if black magic had a smell. Easy enough to pass off at the explanation it was handed to him from someone in Gaze offering free books to passerby, everything there was a little weird and derelict, and the explanation it was a story (apparently) about an exorcist who saved souls was enough to both baffle and intrigue him. Weirdly... spot on, wasn't that? But curiosity alone was a good enough reason for him to shelve any misgivings and settle in, leaning his chin on his shoulder and peering over like he was actually trying to peek at the pages he couldn't see. Also, Shouto's monotone could put anyone at ease (and to sleep). Allen's disarmed and lulled off pretty quickly, relaxing as the tale begins and meanders vaguely around a nameless boy who loved too much. Who was thrown at odds against the home he had always known first for wanting to save those they wanted him to destroy, and then for finding out he was fated to become their enemy and the very thing that would destroy them and the world.
Allen stops dozing off and becomes very awake. Very quiet, and very still.
Shouto can get to the part where the boy says goodbye and leaves in order to keep his home safe, and that's when Allen will fumble for his hand. Grasping his wrist tightly with alarmed urgency. ]
Shouto. [ It's laced with a strange sort of fear, a rising panic. Stop reading.
It's also too late.
Reality... warps. Uncomfortably so, like vertigo but pulling your soul inside-out instead of your stomach. It feels like falling. Falling forward into freefall, which... is accurate. At first it feels like falling into a vacuum, and then the wind is quickly rushing past their ears. They burst through what feels like a thin glass pane of light that shatters harmlessly around them and melt away, geometric patterns in the sky, and the air is crisp and cold; the first kiss of winter, and for the first time smelling clean and entirely without the odor of blood, decay, and industry that clings to Trench. Into the middle of a city park, rows of brick Victorian buildings lining the sides of it with a clocktower and castle in the distance.
They're also about fifty feet up in the air, upside-down and in rapid freefall. ]
no subject
You sure didn't like it in situation that wasn't even as extreme when he said it was his own fault he got hurt after all. You're an extremely contrary person with a lot of double standards, Shouto, but it's only irritating when they get used to place Allen on a pedestal. And deeply insulting.
So he squeezes his hands very gently, so very mindful of the lacerations, but pushes them back then. ]
I don't believe that for a second.
[ Yet he says it not in an accusatory tone, but in one quiet and a little mournful. And Allen leans in, pressed close from being sandwiched by the both of them to kiss the corner of his mouth so very gently, so very chastely. As if to try and say he isn't actually mad or upset either.
Just hollow. ]
I'm sorry.
no subject
I used my ice to freeze the feathers. It worked in my nightmare. It didn't work in Edinburgh.
[ This was the consequence of it. He bandaged the cuts, but in the transfer back to Trench, they disappeared, along with the rest of the clothing he was wearing. His Victorian garb was swapped for slacks and a soft light blue sweater that's now slightly askew.
The kiss, while welcome, feels sad and a little tired, leaving him wondering if the days they spent in Edinburgh were catching up to him or... he looks at him. ]
You look tired.
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Allen blinks, focusing in on that and the implications. He gives a vague nod at the observation, that he's tired, but his focus is elsewhere.
Also-- you lucky prick. How is it he still ended up in his underwear here then. Not that he's still even really processing that fact or can bring himself to care about it. ]
Shouto... [ His breath comes a little shakily, eyes flickering back up to meet his and this time there's a nervous kind of apprehension there. Feathers, freezing... like his nightmare-- Allen's struggling to recall but he was talking about his Innocence, wasn't he?
The Innocence coming out of his stomach before Shouto pushed his hand there, and--
Allen stares, aghast. ]
...It was Crown Clown that did that to you?
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The look in his eyes gains a spark life that's anything but good the longer Allen stares at him. His grip on him loosens, and his mouth twists into a sharp line of concern. ]
What's wrong?
[ Crown Clown? His brows furrow, the name throwing him off track. He knows his powers by his cloak, not-- ]
It was the feathers. The ones that came out of your stomach.
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On reflex Allen looks back down at his stomach, a hand coming to rest on the mottled scar where he had been run through and once those feathers had poured out. There's nothing now of course, the skin has even lost the unnaturally grayish and unhealthy hue it had had back then, but...
Allen nods slightly, vague and distracted as the image of what happened becomes a little clearer and leaves him with a feeling of dread. ]
Those feathers...
That's Crown Clown too.
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As for that answer. Crown Clown? Then, why-- It leaves him stunned with little recourse but to stare at him, while he tries to align what attacked him with the cloak that had saved him numerous times. ]
It was hurting you.
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It was protecting me.
[ Angry, festering at the Noah rising within him and reacting to it, symptomatic of something much greater being wrong with him, but... protecting him. ]
Back at that time, that wound, when it happened... it would have killed me if it hadn't sealed it up. It kept me from bleeding out.
[ Again. ]
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It was protecting him, and I... attacked it.
His hands let go of him all at once, curling up into his palms, and Kizu disappears her solid weight there one moment and gone the next. ]
But you weren't... bleeding.
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It stayed like that for months after it first happened. I think it was trying to help it heal, but... it wasn't a normal wound and it didn't seem to want to. All the way up until the last memories I had of that world. [ Every memory of that life before Trench and the waking world.
Very hesitantly, he reaches out to touch Shouto's hand. Very lightly, so carefully, as if to try and convey some kind of understanding or reassurance. ]
What happened just now... isn't like how things were before though. So I don't know. It started hurting again, like it was opening up like before-- [ Flesh that regained the memories of Noah and the rage against the Innocence that had grieved it so welling up so great as to rip and rend itself apart in its fury. ] ...but I don't remember anything after when you reached for it.
[ His head drops slightly, guiltily, and he worries at his lip again until it tastes raw. Lets his hands drop into his lap where they ball up. The irony as his knees still slot to either side of Shouto's hips as he had swung himself into his lap almost immediately in his relief to hold him and know he was okay. ]
I'm sorry, I don't understand a lot of it. [ And now you've gotten caught up in it too. ] But it hurt you and I--
[ His hands tighten up, nails digging with punishing force into his palms, and head bowed in such a way where his bangs hide his eyes -- and any tears in them. ]
I'm sorry.
no subject
Shouto swallows thickly, his heart in turmoil, trying to reconcile what he saw with the image Allen paints. Months... he was like that for months? What had Nea said? He scrambles for the phrasing when movement in his peripheral catches his attention. He doesn't pull away, though he's stiff under his fingertips, too caught up in the idea of Allen suffering for months, bedridden, and in pain with... The order chasing him. A picture starts to form, and for the first time since Allen spoke to him of the Order, Shouto feels more than a passing curiosity over it.
I'm sorry...
I'm sorry.
Each apology drowns the uneasy feeling, supplanting it with concern, and just under the surface, a quiet affection starts to fill the empty space. In the dim light of the reading lamp, Shouto observes him with growing concern, each apology, pushing aside every question he had. This is more important. He looks down to their hands, eyes drawn to that point of connection, and slowly turns his wrist upright to hold onto his fingertips gently. ]
I will heal. Like you did.
no subject
For him... this isn't the first time someone's been hurt because of his Innocence. Because he lost control of it. Even if it was because he went unconscious that doesn't really make it any better--
Every part of his existence has been forged on top of swearing that hand serve to help others instead of hurt them. Because of his original sin.
It takes him a moment to really process the other half of what Shouto says, looking up finally with a tear-stained face as his fingers press against Allen's in response. As he did...? You aren't talking about the wound on his stomach are you, and for a moment he just holds his gaze somewhat miserably as he tries to process his feelings. What he should do.
And even after all of that, you still— ]
Shouto... [ He begins, but seems unsure of where to go with it. Just trails off teary-eyed as he presses his fingers gently back against Shouto's finally, biting his lip and just—
He just bows his head, leaning his forehead against his shoulder and just staying like that. Teary and shaky, but staying. ]
no subject
His name, uttered in hesitation, roots him to the spot, sending his mind scrambling for a response that isn't to cling to him the way he did with his mother, smothering her in the process. When Allen bows his head, placing his weight on his shoulder, it's exactly the green light he's been waiting for. He instantly wraps an arm around him into a tight embrace, holding him the way he wanted from the start. ]
I'm here. I'm not leaving.
[ His stance from the start. ]
no subject
Just... Allen isn't sure if he's the one who should be here.
But he lets out a shaky breath at that, at the arms circling around him, and his voice cracks in a strangled but relieved sound as he sags against Shouto. Arms circling around him in return, and he grips tight at the fabric at his sides.
I know, but I wonder if I shouldn't have let myself think it was safe to be around others so soon... ]
I'm not either. [ Not because of Nea and not... because of something else. He says it soft and low, a little hoarse with his face still hidden against his now-damp shoulder, and with a note of finality. I can't do that to you, that is something Allen knows clearly even if he's unsure about a lot. But...
...if I feel like I'm just going to hurt you again, I might have to.
But that he doesn't say aloud, and just holds on more tightly for now. ]
no subject
What brought them together was their innate need to safeguard the most vulnerable among them. A fundamental part of their character, it bridged the gap that seemed impossible to cross. ]
...
[ Allen's rough voice captures his attention. His tears from earlier, coupled with the way he clings to him now, clue him into what would have been impossible to miss for anyone else. Gently, he rubs his back with the palm of his hand while his thoughts catch up with his heart. ]
Stay then.
[ He whispers, breath warm against his ear. ]
We'll heal together.
no subject
What drew him towards Shouto from almost the very beginning was something he would be hard pressed to point to. It was nothing he said, nothing that was overt. It was the quiet sort of aloneness he exuded that Allen has always found sad that made him want to reach out. Not because he was compelled to try and fix him though, or save him from that.
It was because he recognized it as like his own, and wanted to answer it. And would keep reaching out towards what he knew had to be there beneath the muted expressions and quiet demeanor.
We'll heal together— Allen exhales softly like that, and tension rolls off him as he tucks his face into the crook of his neck and for all outward appearances seems comforted. Even if he isn't reassured. Not even a little. Part of him is, but the other part just worries more.
He's quiet for a moment, just processing that, before he straights so he can look at him. Very quiet, and very serious in his gentle manner. With a hard to read sort of expression, his grey eyes gentle, but... a little uneasy too. Uncertain, and questioning.
Maybe he shouldn't say anything and just leave it at that, but-- ]
...Isn't there anything you want to ask me? [ Most people would. ]
no subject
Did the wound heal? [ He asks, arms resting on either side of him. ] The one your Innoncene was protecting?
no subject
Normally it would remind him that maybe he should go find more clothes, a robe at least, but he's still a bit too numb and rattled to bring himself to care about that or even notice he's cold when Shouto drops his arms. ]
Mn. It's been healed the entire time I've been in Trench.
no subject
Silent in his observation of him, his rising concern is smothered by a muted expression. ]
Allen... We never left Trench.
no subject
We did. Somehow. Maybe not entirely physically, but an important part of ourselves at least. [ His eyes drift down to his left hand at that too, lingering on it in a reflective and somber manner. ]
It was different the moment arrived. Something started to change.
[ Something in him, and realizing it is what made him get more skittish over time. How his powers felt more like they used to-- how his body felt like it was dialing back to how it should have been at that period in his memories for that place. Putting the Fourteenth aside, he's two lifeforms in one. A perfectly blended merge of human and inhuman, of human and Innocence, each with their own wills and desires. If the nature of his Innocence shifts, he realizes that. The nature of his power relies on being in tune with it and himself, and it is part of his body very physically. He's been very self-aware in that sense ever since Crown Clown first awoke and he realized the importance of having that self-awareness.
And ultimately, as it shifted so too did the thing he was dreading that would explain why his wound would re-open there and close again here. ]
'He' was there.
no subject
[ He confirms, gently brushing up against his omen. Her presence in his mind settles some of his rising concern. It crests and slowly starts to ebb back down like a receding tide.
It's that moment of self-awareness, finding himself whole again, that helps him see just how out of sorts Allen seems. Is something wrong? ]
Do you mean... Nea?
no subject
Yes.
no subject
Is he here now?
no subject
But -- he hesitates a moment then. Gaze flickers down as his mouth presses together and brows knit. That is what he believes and what his clearer mind and not-feverish state confirm, and yet...
And yet Allen's hands ball up into light fists against his thigh, too. ]
I don't think so.
no subject
You don't know, do you?
no subject
Almost as if in shame.
It's a telling response when normally Allen always has one, all but shaking his head to confirm Shouto's suspicion, but... he doesn't respond either. He just doesn't want to say the words out loud, as if it might give them legitimacy. ]
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