deercountry | All that I am

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. ]

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[ He'd... scream you know. He should be screaming. In the instant before he blacks out, he actually finds it strange that he doesn't hear himself because of how much his body is screaming at him.

Maybe it's because it happens in a fraction of a second that just seems like it lasts forever. The agony that comes the moment his palm pushes flat against stomach and feathers—against the supernatural wound that's re-opened as it should have been all along in this time and place.

I've... reverted. That's the truth he hadn't want to realize. Had been trying to deny since he first saw the figure in the mirror.

His eyes cross, the wires connect, and time resumes for him as Allen screams. More than someone ever should when they had seemed fine the moment before. He passes out in an instant, boneless. Shouto's quirk activates, freezing over the glowing feathers until they're a strange kind of twisted, delicate sculpture.

...and as Allen slumps they shatter through the ice. Exploding outward without any warning and with punishing force straight through Shouto's palm if he isn't fast enough, like spines of a razor-sharp sea urchin that doesn't give a damn about material rules. ]

Edited 2022-10-29 20:09 (UTC)

[ The last time the feathers realized themselves Shouto buried him in a mountain of snow, eliminating the threat. This time, his quirk offers him precision. Goosebumps prickle at the back of his neck at the terrifying wail. The scream is a shock to his system, lending him another reason to act.

The feathers freeze into a delicate framework of contorted feathers captured in a miasma of ice that holds no more than breath before shattering before him, exploding outward in shards of ice. In a knee-jerk reaction, Shouto expands his palms like a dome to protect himself from the explosion. His arms and cheeks still end up sliced but it's nothing compared to the razor-sharp needles that tear through his palms piercing the flesh like soft butter.

It all happens in an instant, his reaction time nowhere close enough to save him before he's sent tumbling down the steps clutching at his hands. A scream rips from him as his shoulder hits the stone steps. Left then right, then left again before he steps on a wide step. The pain is excruciation and he's fully awake to feel every stabbing needle that nearly makes him black out. ]

[ So unfortunate for Shouto that while there's a similarity to Crown Clown's wild and also mutated outrage from before with now... this is also something else entirely. In neither case were they hurting Allen despite their appearance, twisting not in malice against him but in pain and animal rage themselves at the attack against their very essence. Against "Allen's" very essence.

The rot.

It makes no move to follow him, the mass of feathers coiling for a moment as if watching him like a living thing in a way that's entirely impassive; moved not even a little by his cry of pain, and with the same sort of eyeless intensity as Timcanpy. They relax after no further attack, losing their razor edge, and retreat back within themselves. Retreated like an animal to lick its wounds, and squirming still from where they seem to spill out of the old gut wound on Allen's stomach that never looked like it healed fully. Where a closer look would reveal they're more like something that's from within that's escaped instead of blood. Shifting ceaselessly as if trying to find a way knit the body whole again, even as there seems to be a necrotic taint, a greyness, spreading from the edges of the wound.

Almost protectively, as Allen is out cold. ]

Edited 2022-10-29 20:44 (UTC)

[ Ragged breathing follows the feather's retreat. Nerves keyed up, he doesn't notice the animal-like quandary in his direction nor the way the mass withdrawals into Allen or the protective manner they seem to spread over the grey wound. He's too far away, the feathers too bountiful to give him even a glimpse of the wound beneath in the second he had to look at the injury.

Shouto grits his teeth and stands. Ignoring the pain radiating from his hands, he makes his way up the stairs and back to Allen's unconscious form. His hands twitch in pain during his assessment. Takes a deep breath before he tries calling him. ]

Al-len.

[ Nothing. There's no response, save for the way the feathers seem to pause slightly before stirring again. Whispering among themselves in the faint ruffling, almost crystalline sound that Crown Clown's down always has.

He's boneless and unresponsive. And, if Shouto makes any move to touch him again, has become quite feverish. Something that's gotten worse throughout the day, since he first had those twinges?

Apparently. But it's also getting much worse much quicker. ]

Edited 2022-10-29 21:09 (UTC)

[ With his skin impervious to extreme heat or cold in short periods of time, his ability to assess the temperature of another is always a concerted effort on his part. It's why he didn't notice Allen's rising temperature throughout the day, but seeing him now, the feverish look gives him enough insight to check his temperature. Ignoring the mass of feathers, Shouto reaches for his forehead and finds him warm to the touch, warmer than he should be, and activates his quirk to cool him down. It's not freezing this time, but cool enough to help bring down his temperature. ]

Allen? Can you hear me?

[ His breathing calms enough for him to ignore it like he's done with the pain. He's worked through worse when he was less capable. He can work through this. ]

[ The Innocence lets him work, stilling slightly when he moves to check Allen's temperature, but going back to not minding him after. It has no reason to care, not as long as he doesn't move in a way that can be perceived as an attack. Its own sentience is separate from Allen's, as is its threat assessment. Something that's kept him alive in the past more than once.

It never forgot, after all. How that ice had killed its host once, before it could move to save him.

Allen seems to breathe easier at the cooling touch, his repose gentler, but still doesn't respond. If he had just passed out from pain shouldn't he already be awake again?

Yes. Yes he should, but he hasn't and shows no sign of it—nor will he anytime soon. And the sun has already half set. ]

[ No response leaving him one choice. He kneels down beside him and picks him up off the ground. There's nothing more he can do here and with the sun setting, he prepares for a retreat.

Shouto carries him down the steps and into town. Their passing garners the gaze of the crowd and a fair amount of whispers. In the nicer side of town, the constables are alerted, and when one tries to stop them, they slide on ice slamming into the ground while Shouto keeps on walking. The whispers grow louder. Children cry and run away from him. Shouto keeps walking until the city streets turn murky, and the crowds merely give them a passing glance.

Shouto carries an unconscious Allen into the inn they left that morning bridal style catching a raised brow from a few patrons, but no one stops him. The owner makes a comment, but Shouto doesn't stop to respond, retreating up the stairs and into their room. Despite carrying Allen for more than an hour, he doesn't break a sweat.

Carrying him bridal style, Shouto sets Allen down on the bed. He checks his temperature before closing the window he left open that morning to air out the room (probably when Allen wasn't looking) and starts a fire. Once the room starts warming up, Shouto starts removing Allen's boots alongside his sweater and pants, leaving him in nothing but his undergarments. ]

[ Allen's oblivious to it all, which is really for the best. Though in the coming days, if they were still there, constables might be asking around about two strange-looking boys that people keep reporting as causing trouble... This is when it's unfortunate to stand out in a crowd.

Although throughout it all, there's a flicker of movement behind his closed eyes as if dreaming.

Even undressed and cooled down, his fever is unabated. Continuing to climb and refusing to break, he mumbles occasionally; nonsensical things. Once, "Mana." The wound itself and his Innocence don't appear to change or look any different, just as restless and festering as before... though the greyness has spread though. His whole body has an ashy hue. More than that—it's like his skin itself is turning an unnatural grey, worsening with his fever.

The course of it will run hours. Through parts where it seems like he's restless, dreaming, and through the fever finally breaking and soaking the sheets in sweat while still he doesn't wake. If Shouto tries to bandage his middle at all he could succeed in that, though it wouldn't seem to do anything. The feathers of Innocence would squirm and seem to dislike it, writhing in pain as even Allen grimaces in deep sleep, but not attack him for it. They also don't fit within bandaging well though, so it would do very little. It isn't a condition or state it seems like much of anything will help with— other than a cooling touch. He seems to calm and rest easier at that, whether it's at his brow or holding his hand. Something deep within him beyond the fever that's gentled by that.

It's shortly after the fever finally breaks that he stirs. Very lightly at first, and it's probably quite late. He doesn't move to sit up though, no such large movements, but his breathing becomes more controlled and quieter with consciousness. His skin has returned to its usual pale hue as well, like they greying broke and left with the fever. His eyes flutter open finally then, like someone just waking from a very deep and long sort of dream, and he takes a long and slow breath.

Holds it like he's tasting it, the air— and then exhales softly. Something so easy to mistake as relief as he glances to the side without moving his head. To take in his surroundings and see where he is with gentle, quiet golden eyes. ]

Edited 2022-10-30 11:42 (UTC)

[ A clean cold towel carefully changed every half hour. Fingers pressed against his wrist to register his pulse when the task is complete. His trip to the bathroom to wash the used towel before ringing out the water. He returns to the room then, and sets the towel in front of the crackling fire to dry. No more than ten minutes pass before he's back at his side again to check his temperature and breathing, at which point, it's impossible to ignore the withering mass of feathers.

Shouto looks upon the frenzy with concern in his mismatched eyes. He settles down beside him, letting his fingers skim through his hair, allowing himself this one indulgence before addressing what cannot be ignored, and buries his worry in the cold. Steady eyes fall to the feather-like protrusions emitting from what seems like a wound in his stomach. He sets a bandaged hand above the mass of feathers that remind him so much of his cloak and cools the air around him. There's no ice, simply a drop in temperature that seems to slow their movements. In the aftermath, Allen seems to rest easier, which spurs him to keep up the cooling touch until the next half hour hits and he begins anew, marked by the grandfather clock that chimes twice an hour.

He's made a routine of this in the hours that pass. Between the moment he sets Allen down on the bed to when he opens his eyes to find Shouto with his back to him, carefully adding another log to the fire with his bare hands. When he stands and turns around, he freezes in place at the unnerving golden eyes that looked nothing like the stormy grey he knew so well. ]

... Allen?

Edited 2022-11-02 03:08 (UTC)

[ -- "Allen". Sure, yes. Right. Blast. He blinks once, calm and collected, and there's a lot he notes very quickly in that a fraction of a second. One, this guy is addressing and looking at him with familiarity—and looks weird as hell with that spliced appearance. Another exorcist he didn't know about somehow? That's irritating. Two, the Innocence wound still hurts like a bitch. Great.

Third, why the fuck is he just in his underwear with a human. What are you, some pervert?

But his expression remains perfectly composed. It's a shit situation with a lot of unknowns but his cover isn't blown, so. What would Allen do? ]

...Mn.

[ Smile warmly like a dope, probably. It's a pretty reliable guess with this guy, and he begins to sit up gingerly. Grimacing for a second at the pain, worse due to the state of himself right now, and making a few quick guesses. Festering Innocence wound, fire, cool cloth, concerned look, some sort of inn room or whatever...

He offers a soft sort smile to Shouto, or at least the way he thinks Allen would offer one to a friend. Which he's very good at assessing, but there's a slight disconnect. It's empty of the usual feeling; his genuine nature.

More dead in the eyes like a shark. ]

Sorry... how long was I out?

Edited 2022-11-02 03:26 (UTC)

[ Shouto notices none of the subtle differences in the smile Allen gives him upon waking, but there's one major flaw in his expression that leaves his feet planted on the ground where he stands. ]

Why are your eyes gold?

[ Fuck, why'd this one have to be more observant than that science guy. Although clearly he's clueless about what that could mean. Point in his favor. ]

Are they? [ He blinks, reaching a hand up to touch the corner of one eye. Damn he's good, feigning surprise like this. ]

I don't know. Is it something to do with the Innocence maybe?

[ Like the smile, Shouto fails to see past the feigned surprise and nods in answer before stepping in his direction. He sits down on the bedding next to him and reaches for his forehead to check his temperature, then his wrist to take his pulse. ]

How are you feeling?

[ Wow. The guy actually bought it? He knows he's a good actor, but even he would have to admit the excuse was kind of a weak one.

He's cautious at the approach, having to reign in literally everything as his skin crawls at the touch, but he keeps it off his face of course. Stuffs it down to be disgruntled about later and lets the guy check his vitals, that's normal and expected after all, and likewise "Allen's" vitals have also stabilized. Even the fever is down and seems gone to the touch, though the wound still looks unnaturally infected. ]

Better. [ His gaze flickers over Shouto, lingering as he tries to size him up, though he's careful to do so with a soft expression. Hm. Cuts on his cheeks. Bandaged hands. ] How long was I out?

Edited 2022-11-02 04:22 (UTC)

Eight hours.

[ Once he's confirmed his fever has broken and his pulse is back to normal, he lets him go to deal with the real issue at hand in the form of a mass of feathers protruding from the wound at his stomach. ]

Allen... What's wrong with your Innocence?

[ Questions are bad. Questions increase the likelihood he'll be found out before he can secure his leave, so he needs to find a way to make an opening, an opportunity. But this guy is attentive to "Allen", and that's going to make it both hard and easy.

Thank god he's an Exorcist or some other sympathetic Order-affiliated sap from blah blah all the apparently hundreds of people his old friend had befriended while he was asleep that there was no way he could possibly have memorized in one sit down session with Timcanpy's recordings. He got the cliff notes on who was important, which... this guy wasn't. Or wasn't supposed to be. Bah.

Anyway. At least he has to already know this shit if he's traveling with Allen and is speaking so casually of Innocence with familiarity even when it looks like this. ]

Isn't it obvious? [ He glances down at his own stomach and the feathers there, eyes subdued and brooding as he speaks rather softly actually. ]

Opposites aren't meant to mix.

[ It's no act. That's one for one something both he and Allen would agree on, this feeling and this assessment. The distasteful truth. They just disagree on which aspect they find distasteful, and his eyes narrow for a moment. Lips purse.

He'd really love nothing better than to smash those feathers to pieces in an instant. ]

Getting stabbed with something like that disagreed with my being "the host".

Edited 2022-11-02 04:56 (UTC)

[ He stills, growing quiet all at once. Isn't it obvious? Opposites aren't meant to mix. This time, he doesn't raise his head to look at him or try to take his hand in comfort. He simply stills with mismatched eyes on the festering wound. It's not until he brings up being stabbed that Shouto looks up.

Grey and teal stares at gold. ]

Something like what?

[ That gets a genuinely surprised blink, caught off guard. The hell? How is this idiot aware of what he is without being aware of that? Everyone even remotely associated with the Order or Exorcists or the Noah or.... any side with any real awareness of the war knows about that incident. The one that led to "Allen" being declared a traitor and an enemy of his precious "home". A final days countdown. Which means...

You're not part of any of them. Not part of the plan. An unknown agent.

His eyes flick up, locking onto Shouto's. He's on his guard. Damn. ]

...I thought I had told you.

[ He says it very softly, eyes hooding. Heartfelt, actually, as his expression softens and becomes reflective. Holding up his left hand and looking down at it for a moment. ]

But I think maybe... I didn't want to. It's not even as easy thing to admit, you know... Let alone think about. [ It's so very gentle, his whole demeanor, as he brings his left hand up like he's about to touch Shouto's face. Softly and apologetically, like this is a deep sort of burden he's carried for a long time.

Like he's speaking a truth since time immemorial. ]

When a friend betrays you. [ His scarlet fingertips almost graze his cheek. A hairsbreadth away.

Before his hand snaps up with Allen's superhuman speed and strength, lunging forward to grab Shouto's throat if he's able with a brutal degree of crushing pressure, and use it to throw him down. ]

Edited 2022-11-02 20:32 (UTC)

[ ...I thought I had told you.

Did he?

The world Allen comes from isn't one he understands. Not the idea of Exorcists or open bigotry he's observed in the last two days. Those aspects of his world he comprehends. It's the idea of a person's sorrow being used against them, weaponized, that leaves him floundering for an explanation and, in turn, anything attached to that concept, like Innoncence going wild. His cloak turning into angel wings. The mass of feathers spilling out of a grey wound. Even if he had explained it, Shouto wouldn't have understood it. Not without a deeper understanding of the complexity of a world he's only begun to uncover, so he feels no guilt for having forgotten or not having understood when he first told him. He doesn't question it, simply waits for Allen to explain even as he wonders if he should tell him to rest instead. He can explain his world to him another time.

Allen doesn't wait.

His gentle demeanor curbs the bite of his earlier words calling into question his very existence. Opposites aren't meant to mix. His eyes shift up to meet his. His expression softens in the subtle shift of his mouth, lips parting slightly instead of holding the familiar straight line, and when he makes that last admission, his eyes gentle in turn, adding a touch of kindness to his features. ]

Who betrayed you?

[ He asks, head tilting just slightly to the right seconds before his fingers snap against his throat. Shouto makes a startled sound that's cut off by the crushing hold. He grabs at his arm, desperately trying to shove him off while battling his instinct to use his quirk against him. ]

Al--

[ It's all too reminiscent of the time his brother tried to choke him with the same intensity. Caught up in another curse, Shouto hesitated then too, curbing his instincts to attack to find another way, but at this angle, he can't kick him to get him off. Stronger than him, it's only seconds before he starts to feel his windpipe give. Trained since childhood to react to attacks, it takes great discipline to form a plan of attack under duress without permanently injuring him, but he also knows he can't let him kill him, the same way he couldn't let Touya do it either.

Instead of turning the room to ash or an arctic tundra, he slams his hand against the mass of feathers and FREEZES them in instant. ]

Edited 2022-11-03 02:29 (UTC)

[ A lot of people betrayed him. Every single fucking one of the ones who were supposed to always be there for him. Everyone except Tim.

Huh. Maybe he and "Allen" could chat about that sometime. Though it'd probably just piss this Allen off.

He didn't expect the guy's guard to come down again after that, maybe he could have salvaged the situation with more acting, but he'd already committed to this path. Besides, whoever this person is, his life doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things -- not that he means to kill him necessarily. That actually isn't his style; he's not a wanton killer. Leave him unconscious and with a windpipe that may or may not be crushed, sure. So if he thinks he's about to be caught and it's fight or flight-- ]

! [ Honestly Shouto doesn't even need the ice. Allen might have a brawler's fortitude but Nea does not, even in Allen's body he doesn't have the mental conditioning to try and shake off an attack like that, so any blow to his middle and the Innocence wound would nearly cripple him with pain that goes way deeper than anything physical and make him let go. Freezing it on top of that—

Actually he barely notices it at first. His eyes cross and he goes down, falling backwards right off the bed with an agonized cry where he lays prone and tries to wrap his arms around his middle. No, the freezing of the Innocence doesn't add to the pain when Crown Clown doesn't react on its own this time, but the being he was attacked by someone with powers when he was so certain he belonged to none of those camps—

Can't breathe. Can barely think. His head is a white-out of pain as he keeps his consciousness only out of sheer stubborn intensity and hatred at that boiling pain in his gut as he grits his teeth and shoves it down to glare in Shouto's direction. ]

Who— [ He bites it out, no longer even pretending to sound like Allen. Black bleeds into the sclera of his eyes—both of them—and he trembles, prone, though it's hard to tell if it's from pain or rage. ]

—the fuck are you?

Edited 2022-11-03 03:07 (UTC)

[ Gone is his gentle demeanor, and in its place stands Shouto, the moniker he chose for his hero name. Cold and unyielding, he stands above him, silent like a mountain. Bruises mar almost every inch of his throat, but he makes no move to check the damage. Instead, he steps forward, and ice ruptures from his right foot to trap Allen all the way to his neck.

Don't move.

He seems to say without words as he straightens to look at him, assessing him at a glance before kneeling down next to him. ]

Let.

[ A cold mist spills from his mouth, his voice hoarse from the pain it takes to talk. ]

Him. Go.

Edited 2022-11-03 03:34 (UTC)

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