⛧ Aʟʟᴇɴ "ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴘʀɪᴇsᴛ" Wᴀʟᴋᴇʀ ★ (
likethelight) wrote in
deercountry2022-09-18 01:29 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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're helping people like you did back in Trench.
Back when he was bound to a wheelchair and Shouto wheeled him around while he made his rounds through the city soothing people. Is that why we're here? To help them? That makes perfect sense in his mind. Whatever reason they were transported here, Allen would have a better idea of it than him seeing as this was his homeworld. His hometown. So, he nods back at him, serious in his demeanor, and lets go of his hand to give him room to work. I understand. Like back then, Shouto steps back, letting him use his skills to help them.
Settling himself a few paces back, Shouto watches the game unfold without interference though he does look curious at the mention of the cuff. He says nothing, unaware of what's being asked. Even if he did know, he wouldn't protest. The earring wasn't his. Allen could do with it as he wished.
He remains a silent observer. ]
no subject
... something like that. ✰
At first he tenses up that they honed in on the cuff Shouto gave him, the one thing that would give him serious pause even if he has no doubt in his own ability and regularly gambles with priceless and sentimental things, Allen looks to the other boy for some kind of confirmation. If he had anything else on him that might be of value to use instead he would, but when Shouto just gives him a calm if somewhat puzzled look in response that eases a lot of his tension. He takes it off and, with a charmingly disarming tone, asks to be dealt in.
The first win is passed off as a fluke and he makes out with most of their money before they even know what's happening, too busy competing with themselves trying to win what looked like rare and valuable jewelry. His smile is chirpy at the win, and the men are dumbfounded before demanding to go again to win their money back.
First on the line are their shoes. The two that look close to his and Shouto's size, the other he demands his coat instead. The hand continues for a while, the men becoming quieter and grim in their focus. With the charming and innocent glee of someone winning at something they have of course never really played seriously before, he announces his overwhelmingly higher hand with a radiant little smile. Royal straight flush, he wins again. ♥
If Shouto is watching him terribly closely, he might notice how the fingers of his left hand tic quickly whenever he reaches to draw or place back a card, and he's always certain to use that hand. It's too quick a movement to really make out what he's doing, though. And here, in this district, that uncovered hand of his (as he is not one to wear gloves when they're by themselves at home) gets a raised eyebrow and lingering eyes from the men but no horror or even revulsion. If you have money or can be of other value somehow, they don't care about much else.
A few patrons from inside the pub have gathered by the windows and door to watch out of idle curiosity. A tired-looking woman in a gaudy but stained tight-fitting satin dress leans in the doorway, watching in in growingly smug amusement. If Shouto glances at her at all, she gives him an obvious wink.
It goes on for a couple more hands with the men becoming increasingly desperate and starting to whisper amongst themselves. They've been stripped of their coats, hats, scarves, and gloves. A pocket watch is on the table. Allen is humming to himself, looking pleased. They're looking cold.
He announces a final win, and scoops the pile of winnings towards himself as the men all throw their cards in disgust and start arguing with each other. He ties one of the scarves on so brightly. ]
Ehhh, so this is what real poker is like? [ shameless ] Thank you, thank you, that was fun. ✰
[ Quickly handing one of the pairs of boots to Shouto. Let's gather our winnings and leave before someone gets mad. ]
no subject
You're very good at this.
[ He mentions at one point from over his shoulder, having stepped up behind him for a closer vantage point, utterly impressed by his winning streak with no idea of his duplicitous nature. His presence draws the ire of some of the grumbling men who eye him suspiciously and pull their cards closer to their chests, muttering curses at him and Allen, who robs them blind in the next few rounds.
Blind to the plots and countermeasures unfolding before him, Shouto is unaware of the brewing anger that comes with Allen's victory. Having divested them of everything they own, the curses grow louder, but their thick accent makes the words unintelligible, which does little to clue him into the dangerous atmosphere. When Allen hands over his winnings to him to get him to move out, Shouto fails to notice his rush, and instead of moving his ass, he outright stares at one of the men, watching the way he clutches onto his losing cards with more force than necessary.
A fit of simmering anger darkens his expression, yet Shouto only sees the way his hands shake from the cold and automatically reaches over to warm him up - the way he might for any civilian - except this isn't his world and the moment he reaches for him his hand gets slapped down, and all hell breaks loose.
The man stands affronted, ready to throw down, while Shouto remains unmoved, his expression barely shifting to a puzzled 'o' from the unexpected move. His complete disregard for the unspoken rules of conduct draws the shirtless one to his feet, pointing an accusatory finger at him, talking about 'cheating' and 'cons', before grabbing him by the collar and yanking him close so he can snarl in his face.
Completely out of his element and unwilling to strike a civilian, he lets himself be dragged up, expression passive say for a slight widening of his eyes looking more dumbfounded than scared. Beside him, the rest of the men get to their feet real quick-like, ready to take with their fists what they couldn't with their tricks. ]
no subject
Allen stumbles up to his feet so quickly he almost knocks the chair over when the one man grabs Shouto by the collar, shoveling the money he won into the pockets of his newly acquired coat as he does so. Startled, but quick as a whip he reaches out to clamp down on the man's offending wrist with his left hand and shoulder his way between. The other men jump up as well, fists up—
And Allen smiles. Blithely but so very nervously. ]
Aaa, now now, there isn't any need for that... [ Aha... shoot. ] It was just a friendly game, wasn't it? You can have most of your clothes back, there's no need for hard feeling—
[ The man throws a punch at his face and he ducks, grabbing that hand too as he twists his other wrist inhumanly hard to force him to let go of Shouto. The other two kick the table aside and lunge at them, and without even batting an eyelash he follows through on the momentum and throws their friend bodily into them. Kind of like this isn't the first time this has happened to him, it's kind of practiced... But that should buy them a minute or so!
He grabs Shouto's wrist with one hand and the bundle of shoes and clothing in the other. ]
We should go! I'm afraid they aren't going to be very good sports! [ Sorry, he'll explain and apologize later! Grabbing you and running now! ]
no subject
Back on solid grown, Shouto stands with Allen, back to his, ready to face whatever comes their way, and utterly fails to grab any of the loot before taking off down the street at a dead run. ]
Why are you taking their clothes?
[ Flabbergasted, he still doesn't realize they were gambling the entire time. He thought it was a friendly match with odd rules when they started removing their clothes. But, he assumed it was part of the game. He never thought they'd actually take their boots!
Allen! What are you doing?! ]
no subject
We needed them, didn't we? They bet them after all. [ Said so normally. Fair's fair! They were being obnoxious first. Also, do you have any idea how expensive clothes actually are in this era?
He's not going to stop any time soon though! Or let go. Angry shouts follow them, so thankfully it seems like the men have a sour enough relationship with others at the bar that no one else moved to their aid. It'll be a few minutes of running down and weaving through some of the narrow alleys before Allen comes to a slightly breathless stop. ]
no subject
I don't need them.
[ He's said so twice now! He doesn't get cold. So, the cost of clothes doesn't matter. He can get by with what he has on. An argument he doesn't push while they're running down the streets with people barely paying attention to them as if it was commonplace to see a pair of teens running down the streets, arms heavy with shoes, buckles, and socks.
By the time they come to a stop, they've covered a kilometer with no one chasing after them. For now, at least, they've escaped any repercussions. ]
Allen. [ He takes a calming breath to regulate his breathing. ] What happened back there?
no subject
You need them to blend in. [ Also you didn't say that the ground wouldn't hurt your feet!! You're walking around in your socks, stupid!! But let's stick with the point he's less likely to argue, Allen really doesn't want to argue. He's actually fretting and wants to check on him too as soon as they have a place secured now that he has the money for that.
Also don't worry, he didn't take their socks! That'd also be cruel. Also, who wants to wear another person's stinky socks. Ew. ...Not that he's keen on the shoes and will definitely be airing them out later, but their feet need protection if they're going to be walking around a lot... Speaking of, presuming Shouto takes them and the coat and Allen's not giving him a lot of choice by basically dropping them unceremoniously into his arms, he bends to wiggle on and start lacing up his own. He wiggles his toes a bit to test the fit, frowning lightly. ]
It's poker. [ He gives a small hum, shifting the boot to fix the fit before continuing to lace it. ] People bet with whatever they have on them or are wearing if they don't have the money.
They underestimated me, so this happened.
[ Said so normally, like he does this every day. ]
no subject
Clothes aren't going to help me blend in. [ More importantly. ] They were cold.
[ And therein lies the root of the problem. He recognized the signs of their diminishing body heat throughout the game as they lost more and more pieces of clothing, but he thought it was only temporary. The idea of making them suffer the cold on purpose doesn't sit well with him, not when he's always worried about frostbite whenever he uses his right side. ]
Poker?
[ As if he knows what that is. Allen could have called it Candy Crush, and he still wouldn't have any clue. Thankfully, the explanation comes in right after, letting him think about something else other than the cold weather and how those men no longer had shoes to stave it off, but at the mention of bets, he looks at his left ear. ]
You bet...
[ The bloodstone. He realizes, his expression settling into one understanding as all the pieces fall into place. ]
You were... gambling.
no subject
They'll be fine. Men like that have more than enough ways to make up their losses and knew what they were betting. [ Bluntly. Those guys really were assholes...
He gives an experimental tug on the second boot, twisting his foot about, until he seems satisfied and straightens back up. But his expression gentles, and he steps closer to reach up and tug a tweed cap lightly onto Shouto's head. He gives a soft, fond huff. ]
"Gambling" would imply there was risk. [ He explains it patiently, like one would a very obvious sort of thing, but also more softly. ] I don't lose.
no subject
[ A serious question from one who knows little of the underworld other than its existence and even less of the unsavory people who thrived there. If he'd known they were assholes from the start, he wouldn't have any problem with what he pulled, but for most of that game, he thought Allen was befriending them giving him an entirely different impression. ]
You said you were betting. That implies risk.
[ He points out while Allen covers up his hair. He tucks in any loose strands under the cap to sell the look and balances on one foot to remove the mud-covered sock drenched in every imaginable waste from the street. Waste that gets turned to ash in a flash of cleansing heat that turns his foot red. The process leaves a grim stench in the air, denoting the level of grim he accumulated. By the time he's done, he's lacing up the boot with a clean foot tucked inside before repeating the process for the other foot. When he's done, he settles himself next to Allen, taking his hand in his to warm it up. ]
Where are we going?
no subject
[ Unlike Allen. Totally. He very honestly ripped them off because they deserved it.
He helps tuck one of the errant red strands away in a manner like gentle fussing, before pulling the other slightly oversized coat around his shoulders. Maybe they're still painfully obvious as out of place if someone actually looks, but if enough else is otherwise expected about their appearance most people won't care enough to look closely enough to realize. At least not in these districts. Lessons he learned really early on... ]
And I don't bet unless I know the outcome. [ Very serious!
He pulls on the half-gloves he won (not full gloves, damn) as Shouto slips on the boots and he's more than a little grateful he decided to, although he blinks as the grime on his foot just falls off as ash. That's...... really useful. Damn. He's kind of envious. ]
Ah... [ He looks a little gently surprised when Shouto turns to him and he takes his hand though, the shift in his appearance actually hitting him and somehow that cements the reality of the situation in a little more harshly. His expression flickers. I'm sorry to have to drag you through this... Even if he wanted to see good and bad both. And what was the point of this? Most things that happen in Trench this far out of the norm always seem to be some kind of test, and the fact Kanda hadn't been present when he should have been seems to imply this isn't being thrust back into the actuality of his past, so...
He takes Shouto's hand with both of his, bringing it up to his chest and giving a small squeeze. ]
It's starting to get dark... [ Winter in a far northern climate. They were playing cards and then running for a while; and it might be late afternoon going into early evening, but that's also sunset. ] We should find a place to stay potentially for the night since we can afford it now.
1/2
[ It was the most common crime Pro-Heroes dealt with. At UA, they had practical classes on how to deal with petty criminals, including learning negotiation tactics. One class involved detective work, another dealt with laws and jurisdiction. Learning to assess and reassess a situation is a key part of any Hero course and one every aspiring hero is familiar with.
It's not easy for him to readjust his understanding of what played out, but he's had practice. He takes a mental step back, re-evaluates what he thought was going on, and shifs his perspective accordingly. This change in perspective goes a long way in putting to rest his unease. They weren't dealing with civilians that needed to be protected but petty criminals. Still, he can't help but think of how cold they looked. Even if they were criminals, he didn't like the idea of them going cold. After a moment, he sets aside his misgivings, placing his trust in Allen, who wouldn't put anyone in harm's way. It's this singular belief that allows him to move on without going back to look for them.
I trust you.
Unlike Shouto, Allen moves on without a hiccup, almost as if he was used to this. Shouto tries to keep up, tipping his head down to let him fuss with the cap when that line draws him up short. He blinks, his brows creasing at the obvious contradiction. ]
How did you know the outcome?
[ You can't just say that and expect him to 'get' it. Not when he thinks of you as a noble knight!
Knights don't cheat!]2/2
Squeezing his hand, Shouto looks at him with concern behind his dual-colored eyes while emitting a gentle heat to keep him warm. He doesn't mean to go against him, he just wants to know -- ]
What's wrong?
1/2
Oh... [ He tips his head to the side, distracted more with making sure Shouto's appearance is on point. ]
That's because I cheated.
[ yep ]
2/2
...honestly, I don't know what the point is. How real this is. [ His gaze drops, shoulders rolling forward. ]
When something like this happens isn't it usually like some kind of test? I just... don't know what it could be testing. [ It's frustrating, using his past for something like that and bringing someone else into it.
He brings Shouto's hand up to his face like his did before, but this time touches his lips to his knuckle. They're cold, and he lets the gentle warmth seep in as his eyes hood in distant reflection. ]
And if there isn't a point... then it does feel real.
[ Which is the most unsettling of all. ]
1/1
Was that the reason? Even more astounding, he'd been standing right behind him and didn't see a thing. He's reminded of Shinsou, and his brainwash quirk, except Shinsou didn't have any other abilities to fall back on. Allen did. Why did you choose deception over your Innocence?
The 'why' suddenly feels more important than the 'how' in a mental reversal anyone would be hard-pressed to follow. Shouto stares, baffled by his motivations than the act itself. Am I... missing something? The question sets him on a route of doubt of his own making. Without Kizu to question his thoughts, it takes root in his mind while he remains silent. ]
2/2
It is real.
[ He holds his chin between his thumb and forefinger and tips his head up to meet his eyes. ]
Even if it's a test, I can still warm you when you're cold.
[ Do you understand? ]
If I hold you, it's you I'm holding.
This is real.
no subject
Allen blinks, staring outright for a moment as his chin is tipped up. Absolutely flummoxed at such an outright and simple observation, and so touched that...
He blinks again. Once, twice. Rapidly. Dumbfounded and overwhelmed. You, without even actually addressing what his mind was so concerned about, all the overwhelming complex possible consequences they might be facing if this was truly his world, responsibilties he might have to take up...
...you so thoroughly and easily set his heart at ease.
Something clicks and he reaches out then to touch the side of Shouto's face lightly, with an absolute sort of amazement. And like someone tugs an invisible string, he follows to press his lips lightly to the other teen's. Soft and sweet, whole-hearted, and he holds it for a long and poignant moment as his hand drifts to rest warmly at his neck.
When he finally draws back it isn't far, just enough to be able to see him and still let their hair mesh. Nuzzles his nose faintly, eyes hooded thoughtfully again, but this time with a soft glimmer. ]
...you always manage to make me feel so at ease. [ Without making him feel like he's being a burden. He says it in soft wonderment, and almost like a very fond sort of chide. Even when there isn't actual reason to be you do... Just by being yourself. ]
I'm glad you're here.
[ I hope I don't regret feeling that way, but it's true. ]
no subject
The gentle nuzzling is what finally tips him over the edge. His fingers twitch against his collar, leaving an imprint of heat as he tries to corral his quirk, and ends up burying his nose against his neck. His cheeks grow hot as the pendulum swings left on its own, and he wraps his arms around him to hold him still as if that will stop him from wreaking havoc. ]
You...
[ You always manage to-- ]
I don't feel at ease at all.
no subject
Confused and more than a little worried (wah, hot), he blinks and goes so still when he buries his face against his neck and admits that. You mean.. he made you uneasy.
Oh.
He falters, stomach dropping hard at that, but he brings his hands up to touch his back lightly in concern. To hold very gingerly. Hesitant, what with how tightly he seems to be holding him and with what feels like an understated but threadbare sort of desperation. ]
Shouto? [ He swallows. Tips his head lightly to try and see anything more than the peppermint streaks of hair. Your power swings so wildly with your emotions that it's like a barometer for them... he's wanted to ask about that, seeing that it's happened repeatedly and to more recently some destructive effect. Not so much out of concern for his fire or his ice themselves, but... ]
...Why?
[ Your heart... You make his steady, but does he make yours... not? ]
no subject
What's all this here then?
[ A man in a chocolate-stained apron stands in front of a patisserie across the street. Behind his great bulk, a kid just barely in his teens, stands as backup. He clutches a clean tea towel in his hands and wears a similar apron a lot cleaner than the man who narrows his blue eyes on them. Inside the shop, a dozen eyes watch them. Some stare in shock, others with distaste, and a few bare nothing but abhorrence. Whispers flood the street from the open doors. ]
Take that nonsense away from here, ya hear me?
[ The man steps forward, holding a wooden rolling pin like a menacing club. The kid comes forward too, though he stays behind the man who he bares a resemblance to. The sudden address has Shouto lifting his head from Allen and looking up. Someone gasps, another makes the sign of the cross. His eyes! A demon! Movement erupts inside the shop, and a few men start for the door. ]
This place is for decent folk. Now go back to where you came from. Ain't no one wanting you around here, so leave before my boy calls the constable.
[ The man turns his head to the kid who clutches the tea towel to his chest. The man nods at him, and it takes the kid no more than a second to take off at a dead run. Shouto watches the kid run down the street, looking confused and more than a little lost. ]
What nonsense?
no subject
In their hurry and then his distraction, Allen had thought they were alone and people had already mostly retreated indoors and out of the cold. Or, they had, but... were still watching. Shit, he should have been paying attention.
His hands tighten into Shouto's coat for a moment, tense. Allen's Victorian Britain and world in general is at least somewhat more... progressive than others. Less culturally-wide disgust or legally enforced hatred but very "don't ask, don't tell" and still something you very much never saw publicly flaunted outside the slums or red light districts. But... there are still places with people like these. And to be honest, Allen has... never actually had to think about or really consider that, and at first he's confused too and doesn't quite get it. But his jaw tightens at the man's look, returning it warily before he sees the murmur in the crowd spread at Shouto's eyes. He would have guessed the one who crossed themselves was looking at him, but their eyes are on Shouto... his expression flattens, hardening. He tugs at his sleeve, pulling back so he can get to his feet.
There's a twinge as he does, faltering for a moment like he just got a piercing pain in his gut, but he shakes it and a momentarily confused look off quickly. ]
We need to go. If they don't attack us we're going to be arrested. [ His eyes flicker between Shouto and the baker, quietly grim, and he backs up a pace while tugging him to follow him. No, he will not dignify anything that man said with a response. ]
Some people only hate what they don't understand.
no subject
[ His eyes stretch wide at the implication, and he looks at the crowd gathered near the windows.
Mama, I'm scared. A little girl cries, and her mother picks her up, clutching her to her breast. It's alright, darling. You have your rosary, remember? The one Father Hoyt gave you? No demons can hurt you so long as you have it on.
The little girl clings to her, and the woman looks up just in time to catch him watching them. She startles, eyes wide with fear, and quickly takes her daughter away from the window to hide her away. Seeing this, Shouto grows cold in Allen's grip as realization slowly dawns. ]
They're... scared of me.
[ He doesn't argue after that, doesn't ask further questions. He simply follows him into the alley, letting the darkness swallow them. ]
no subject
He squeezes his hand in sympathy, expression conflicted. ]
And me. [ Even if for once, for reasons he's not even sure of, they decided to be more afraid of Shouto. But he says it softly, his demeanor becoming quiet, and leads them back out of sight and into the lengthening shadows.
His demeanor stays quiet and a little distracted as they walk, but he keeps holding onto Shouto's hand. Gently, but in a way where he's very much not letting go either. He doesn't really know any inns here, he was too young to notice that kind of things before and doesn't have Cross's connections here and would say as much if asked, so it's more wandering until coming across one his instincts identify as a safe bet. As for what constitutes a safe bet...?
The first one, a lively pub serving some sort of meat pies one can smell from the street, seems to be going well despite the innkeep giving Allen, in full polite charm: on mode and smiles, several very dubious once-overs and staring hard at his scar. Until he catches Shouto looking at him and locks gazes, startling visibly at his bright teal eye against such red burnt skin. He shoves Allen's money roughly back at him then, declaring they have no vacancy. He threatens to have them thrown out and locked up if they try to protest.
The second one they barely get in the door before a woman who's sweeping up blanches, looking panicked before she brandishes her broom at them. We got no room for your kind here! Shoo!
Three. Four.
The fifth one is in a different part of town, that while the rest of the city is going to sleep aside from the pubs... this part is waking up. Colorful signs advertising things like Puss In Boots, The Bunny's Bottom, and Kitty Kat's ♥. By this point, Allen's so worn and tired his expression barely changes when they get there -- maybe just a bit more resigned -- but he isolates an inn ("inn") that's across from one of the... clubs. This one is run by a thin and sharp-faced woman in heavy makeup who regards the two of them wordlessly after his request for a room ("just a room?" "yes, just a room"), no more energetic charm and veneer. She takes a long drag on her cigarette as she sizes them both up; perfect poker face, nothing warm and nothing cold. Her eyes linger, yes, on both their scars for a moment, on Shouto's left eye, Allen's not quite fully hidden left hand, and their ill-fitted and cobbled together appearance. How they're standing. The near-matching earcuffs.
It's a long, long moment.
She reaches back and slides a key across the counter. "Two shillings, third floor. Go all the way down and it's on the right." She continues to watch for a measured, unreadable moment as Allen, startled, fumbles for the coins.
"It's my boys' old room. Got some of their old clothes in it, too." She stamps out her cigarette and takes the money from Allen who's staring, dumbfounded. "You can pay me for whatever you end up using tomorrow." ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/2
2/2
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/2
2/2
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/2
2/2
(no subject)
i feel like i should apologize yet again but...
.... i needed a new icon... i hope you realize this.
good, my work here is done :D
you are making him question so many things...
as he does :)
<3
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/2
2/2
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/2
2/2
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/2
2/2
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/2
2/2
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/2
2/2
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/2
2/2
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/2
2/2
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...