ange "the definition of chuunibyou" ushiromiya (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
entreats) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
deercountry2022-12-07 09:20 pm
entreats) wrote in deercountry2022-12-07 09:20 pm
(closed) december catchall
Who: Ange (entreats), Chizuru (tealeafs), Daniel (miyagimagic) and various others.
What: December shenanigans.
When: During all of December.
Where: Locations vary.
Content Warnings: Bullying, (mild) violence, will edit to add more later.
( starters in the comments! if you want to plot anything with me, feel free to either pm the journal or contact me at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
queeningsquare, i'm always open to new ideas and threads! )
entreats), Chizuru (tealeafs), Daniel (miyagimagic) and various others.What: December shenanigans.
When: During all of December.
Where: Locations vary.
Content Warnings: Bullying, (mild) violence, will edit to add more later.
( starters in the comments! if you want to plot anything with me, feel free to either pm the journal or contact me at
for robby
But it also means he knows not to stick around. Even if that fact is made a whole lot harder by the fact that his hands are chained up. It's a face that's easily remedied when a whisp of smoke emerges from him, changing forms into his Omen - though not the familiar smaller form he's used to, but the bigger form that Daniel has so rarely seem, a shisa in full stature. Without even having to exchange words, the creature helps him undo the chains, and then grab the key to get out of the stall. The next step would be to find the way out of here as quickly as possible, but when Daniel stares into his Omen's eyes, he realises something.
Neither of them has to say a thing, and yet Daniel instantly knows what the Omen is trying to tell him.
His heart starts to race with adrenaline and worry, and when the Omen takes off, starting to run past the stalls and up the stairs, Daniel sprints after it as quickly as he can manage, not even thinking about his sore wrists.
There's someone he has to find. That's what his Omen's gaze told him, and whereas that sort of idea would always worry Daniel no matter who it was, he has a feeling that he knows who is somewhere in here as well, if the feeling that's tugging on his heart is any indication. Daniel feels deeply for so many people, but there's definitely a special place reserved for a certain few, and perhaps one more than anyone else in Trench.
He has to find Robby.
cw: attempted multilation, all them fine sleeper farm warnings
And that's with teamwork in play here. There's a link between Robby's omen and Daniel's, the only one familiar in the area for it to reach. A creature of smoke shrunk down in contrast to its smallest height so as to avoid attention, and to provide some means of being located by the other omen, their human in tow.
It doesn't share the state of Robby, though he's never far from view. It keeps its focus on the shisa to help lead it to it for as long as it can, but there's difficulty in doing so, due to Robby's current state; due to the eventual return of footsteps, a bucket slung under the head of where he currently hangs, strung up like an animal ready for slaughter.
And he is, is the thing, tied at his ankles and wrists after the mess he caused in being dragged up here in the first place, a strip of fabric around his mouth with someone else's blood fresh on his tongue. He didn't go up quietly, he still tries to thrash now, but it's desperation, fear that's got him. How is he supposed to get out now when he only has his omen? Who's a last resort, when this fuck can still his movements by whatever fucked up power they have?
He's scared. Before he sees the blade in the zealot's grip, feels the tug of the suit's buttons being undone by its metal, the touch of it against his belly. Dragging it's way down to his chest. He can't see the zealot beyond their robe, hear anything other than his muffled cries of pleaseNOpleasepleasedon't-- that half of which get stuck in his throat from the shock.
He has nothing, he has nothing, he can't escape-- and he's more than scared, he's terrified, when the call for his omen doesn't even bring the response of its presence to his mind. Because his omen's body has been frozen with his, an ability knowingly locked so as to more easily work when the zealot digs the blade into Robby's stomach.
Carefully, of course -- they want the organs undamaged.
cw: karate violence, i guess.....
After all, if he'd look and spot anyone in a terrible condition, or terrible trouble, he would never forgive himself for leaving them here, no matter how impossible it is for a single person to save everyone here, to stop the suffering somehow. There's a logical part of his mind that tells him that, and that he doesn't have time to stop if Robby is somewhere here in trouble as well, but there's still a part of himself that can't help but be hard on himself, hate himself as he just keeps running, ignoring everything else around him.
The shisa makes sure to not run at a pace Daniel can't keep up with, but it's still keenly aware of the fact that they don't have much time, so they do keep running, even as Daniel starts to feel out of breath, ignoring that feeling in favour of the the strong thought of Robby in the back of his mind.
They climb up, to the third floor, and from the way the shisa's pace quickens just a bit Daniel can tell it's not far now. He forces himself to keep going, this time keeping his ears a little more open to their surroundings, just to see whether he can pick up any familiar noise, even if it's hard to do in the cacophony of awful sounds in this place.
There's no sound he can pick up from all that, but there's a sight he can see, a little while after they've already been running - what feels like - all over this floor. There's Robby, that familiar face and shape, but upside down, and there's a zealot right there, dragging something metal and shiny so close to Robby's torso--
Daniel sees red.
He's been trying to get a better control over his temper here, figuring that he might as well try to work on himself a little to keep himself from focusing on the things he misses, trying to avoid making the same mistakes, but it feels impossible to hold it back here. It's one thing to try and hold back his temper at a taunting remark someone makes. It's another thing entirely to even do as much as attempt to hold it in when he sees Robby being threatened to this extent. His student, his son.
Temper takes over, but it also gets Daniel moving. He doesn't even call out, he just jumps into action, pulling on the zealot's free arm to tug him backwards, away from Robby, much too aware that hitting the zealot right away might only have accidentally plunged that knife into Robby's flesh. Not to mention that holding onto that arm it is very easy to use the zealot's own momentum to swing him around and then let go as the robed figure hits the wall hard.
It seems to daze the zealot, but not enough to try to defend themselves. The zealot is still holding onto the knife, trying to attack Daniel with it now, only for the man to knock it right out of the zealot's hands with a strike against his arm.
"What the hell did you think you were going to do to him?!"
It's hard to tell whether or not the zealot was actually still capable of understanding Daniel's words after hitting the wall - especially since a moment later Daniel throws up his leg, kicking the zealot in the head, right against the temple, making the figure crumble to the ground.
Daniel stands there for a moment, panting as he looks at the downed figure, just to make sure they don't actually get up again. When the coast seems clear for a moment though, he's quickly moving to grab the rope the zealot strung Robby up with, lowering the boy to the ground before helping him up into a seated position and moving the cloth out of his mouth.
He knows there's no time. He has to get Robby out of here before more of them show up, but there are so many thoughts spinning in Daniel's head right now, adrenaline still rushing through his veins. Still - he can't help but stare at the other for a moment without moving to further action just yet, at least having to ask--
"Did they hurt you?" The tone is tense, though any lingering anger in it certainly isn't directed at Robby himself. (At least even his raging mind still has the tact to ask that, rather than whether Robby is okay.
Of course the boy isn't okay.)
Reluctant to do as much as look away from Robby, Daniel's hand blindly moves along the ground until it grasps the handle of the knife the zealot dropped, moving it to start cutting away at the rope around Robby's wrists.
Daniel's hands are still shaking.
cw: daniel larusso
Because it's always handed out this way: without a way to stop it, despite a language you both are sure to know, some faint similarity between the both of you. They should care. But they don't, and if his body could let them out, tears would surely be leaking from his eyes and down his face.
But there's only the sting, a loneliness in the worst possible way, an indifference to what's coming next--
The zealot gets knocked, and Robby doesn't even really know what's happening.
Except he can breathe, his body can, which he only notices at first by the way his muscles ease. Just an inch; because hanging upside down is doing nothing for him, and his vision is blurry, head dulled by being kept like this for so long. But he hears a familiar voice, righteous and furious, and he chokes on the cloth stuffed in his mouth, gagging in the call of his teacher's name he wants to cry, but can't.
He wants to see him, but he can't see much of anything, even when the action and movement is right near to him. His concentration feels like shit, but his omen can move now, coming out from its previous hiding place in a fit of smoke and shadow rising up. Nothing to aim its (fear) anger at, it snarls anyway as it manages to come onto the main pathway. Body low, watching the pair, and not moving closer, with worry and upset and rage keeping it close to the ground in wait.
The cloth comes away from Robby's mouth and he coughs first, a dry heave that (for one tiny upside) doesn't produce anything. His mouth and throat both feel hoarse, and he barely feels the words tumbled out of him, his head swimming with the rush of being somewhat the right way up. "Mister LaRusso, Mister LaRusso--"
He doesn't properly answer, he doesn't remember the question. There's a pain at his stomach, but Robby doesn't care. His own hands and limbs shake as Daniel cuts through the material, and Robby is biting down on his lip. He only just thinks to pull back on his wrists to make the cloth snap faster, and then, when they do--
his hands fumble at Mister LaRusso's, then the front of his shoulders, then around the back of his neck. Robby pulls himself close and buries himself against Mister LaRusso's body more than he has ever before in his life. His own trembling still, the sob that shakes him, and he clings onto his sensei without care for the world around them.
There's other zealots, there's real danger, still; but Robby can't override the fear inside him, that real possibility that had been there before him. I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die.
And he doesn't want to, he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to, so he holds onto his life support, his thoughts a white noise loud and garbled between his ears.
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.. on the other hand, Daniel's heart is too weak to just shrug Robby off now, to tell him that they have to get moving. He can't. There's no way. This might be the most hurt he's ever seen the boy. More so than the emotion that leaked right out of the other when they had their first serious talk since showing up in this place, more so than that time he found the kid with his hands all busted up and brought him to the hospital. Maybe even more so than that time they sat together at the rehab center, Robby looking so tiny on the other side of the table, so young.
Even if there is no time for this, there will just have to be. Daniel can't deny the other this moment of comfort, and his heart desperately wishes to give him even just a little bit of it. To let him know he's okay, that it's all okay, even though it's not. Not yet, anyway.
One arm wraps around the other's lower back, unable to pull him closer with how much Robby is already clinging to him, but tight and protective all the same. He drops the knife for a moment to reach higher with his other arm, wrapped around Robby's upper back and shoulders, the tips of his fingers digging into the underside of Robby's hair.
"I got you," he says, only a little above a mumble. Just enough so it can hopefully get through to Robby, between his words and the way he holds him. "I got you."
He won't waste time on blaming himself for not having been here sooner. Right now all he has to do is look out for Robby's wellbeing with every single inch of his being, making sure this doesn't get worse. He glances from Robby's Omen to his own, and the shisa seems to get the message, moving to stand guard, to watch and make sure to let Daniel know if there's even a single zealot approaching so Daniel can spend just this moment on comforting the boy.
Even though he's still trembling with barely contained rage. How could they. How could they?! To a kid, to Robby--
"I'm not going to let them hurt you as long as I'm here."
Even if he'd have to find a way to tear this place apart to keep that from happening all by himself.
no subject
None of it is here. This is where none of that shit matters, except the reassurance he wants, the comfort of something - someone - familiar and loved close. He's not thinking about anything else, and that's dangerous; but Robby might even let himself off for that later, when his mind wanders back to this. As long as they escape, as long as Mister LaRusso's okay too - then he might only think about how the man came and saved him, that he was there.
(And that Robby wanted him there.)
Between the heightened emotions and the blood fumes thick in the air around them, though the latter is slow to have any effect, Robby isn't in a state to think well. But his omen is, a mass of black that pads closer to them, a silent communication between the pair shared. It's not even been a minute of them like this, though it could've been longer for how it feels; but Robby is the one who will speak on leaving, a mumbled mess in Daniel's ear - "We-- we have to go, we have to get out" - as he gives his arms one last squeeze to the body under them, and then start to pull back.
His bottom lip is being bitten, a look to catch Mister LaRusso's eye, a head nodding before the questions of are you sure, are you alright can be asked, even if just in a look. He knows they have to, rising up onto his feet (and let's be real, with Daniel's help, whether or not needed). There's blood coming from his stomach, but from the skin than anything internal, though Robby is only working his fingers at his buttons than acknowledging any of it. Skin pale despite some colour to his cheeks, an exhausted look on his face, as if he's been stuck here longer than the hour it might be close to.
They need to move, and Robby won't delay. Except, and unless, Mister LaRusso doesn't pick up that knife again. Then he will, to take with them.
no subject
Still, when he helps the boy up and spots the blood on his torso, Daniel still worries. It's tempting to linger, to patch it up, maybe he could use that knife to just cut the sleeves off this dumb jumpsuit and rip them into bandages - but even that would take too much time. Daniel wishes he could touch Robby and at least feel his temperature to make sure he's okay, since the pale colour of the other's skin is worrying him, but even that is not exactly an option when he's lost his ability to feel anything like it months ago.
It leaves the man staring at the other with an obvious worried look in his eyes just for a moment, not too long, but long enough for it to obvious.
Then he exhales, trying to drop it, but the same worry still churns away inside of him, so familiar at this point.
"Alright." Daniel nods. "Stick close to me, alright? No matter what happens, just-- just stay close." Because at least that way he can still attempt to do something to protect Robby, if he's close enough to do so. Daniel can feel his levels of stress and his levels of protectiveness over the boy raising in equal amounts in the moment.
He doesn't pick up the knife though. Instead he starts walking, maybe not even noticing that Robby is the one who scoops it up instead before joining him. Daniel's Omen also returns, letting Daniel know without a word - like a gaze is just enough - that the way ahead is clear for now. Then the shisa moves to walk besides them, practically right next to Robby's feet, like Daniel's own protective worry is mirrored in the creature that's tied to his heart.
The situation is still tense though. Even as they make their way through the floor, over to the stairs, there's not much talking. What does someone say in a situation like this? Even Daniel is too tense to try and make small talk, to be able to think of anything that might reassure the boy in the middle of all of this.
(What ever could?)
The floor ahead is one that hasn't been checked by any Omen, though it looks safe enough when they arrive there. But just as they're trying to make their way over to the next set of stairs, hoping to find the exit, there's suddenly the unmistakable sound of footsteps rushing their way.
no subject
(Terry Silver had done the same, and his life had gone so wrong. But what about here--what about now?)
They're surrounded by death here, and they were meant to be a part of it. Pollution hangs like a mist under their knees, stained near-black with the mixture of sleeper bloods curled around one another. It's like that place; where death was a necessity, a proud act, and though the warped city hadn't been a layered cage like this place, pipes whistling instead of a rumbling red sky, it's a similar movie. People die, and you're too weak to save them. You're too weak to save yourself.
Robby grips the blade's handle tighter, eyes kept on Mister LaRusso, ears opened. His omen slinks in the shadows as apprehension sits along his shoulders as anticipation.
The footsteps are the signal.
From behind them, a clustering set. Three, he knows by his omen, and Robby's turn is slow as he can confirm the figures. Beside him, he knows: Mister LaRusso won't rush at them, he'll act in defence. Which leaves the actions of the ones in front of them, and what can they do?
Robby sees: a flaming pipe, a hand being raised. The latter is a concern, and there's a clarity as he starts to move forward towards them, in the same instance he gives his omen the wordless command that makes the creature jump out. A mass of shadow surrounding the group, and Robby strikes first as he uses a quasi-railing to grip onto in his run and swing his feet into the closest on his side. Knocking one into the other but not down, but he's instinctively ducking without needing to see the swinging weapon, stabbing the knife into the leg he knows is there. He can see in the darkness his omen creates, though the flames of the pipe blaze even with Robby's attempt to buckle its wielder.
He feels the heat, and he decides to finish what he started with the kicked pair and to push the both of them down by tackling them.
Two down, as well as Robby, with the one with their flamed pipe focused on Robby and not on their own back -- which faces Mister LaRusso.
no subject
It's got his chest feeling tight, even as Daniel moves when he witnesses a sole figure still standing there, assuming Robby must be dealing with the other two. Just standing there and worrying won't do a thing, so Daniel does what he can to help - rushing over, and moving to kick that zealot's back.
Unfortunately the zealot holding the pipe has the biggest build of all of them, rendering a single kick unable to just do them in. They turn towards Daniel, starting to swing the weapon, though thankfully Daniel himself is nimble enough - and used to this enough, honestly - to dodge the flames before they can reach him. This sure is a moment where he wishes his ice powers worked, but can feel them dulled and out of reach ever since he woke up in this awful place, and so he knows he can't rely on them now, only on his own strength.
.. and maybe some tricks he's learned a while ago too.
It takes a moment of observing the larger zealot while dodging the pipe, but then Daniel finds the clear opening in the way they swing it. He dodges underneath the pipe, striking right at the zealot's pressure point on the arm that isn't holding the pipe, at least rendering that one unusable as it goes limp at the zealot's side. Daniel moves to try and strike the other arm too so they won't even be able to use the flaming pipe at all anymore, but that's the exact moment that he hears something from the darkness. He can't be sure what it is, whether that was one of the zealots or Robby himself, but worry has Daniel grow stiff anyway, maybe a little too paranoid, a little too easily alarmed, turning his head in worry--
Which is the exact opportunity the zealot takes to strike Daniel with the pipe, hitting him across the chest. The fire burns a hole into his jumpsuit, singeing his chest, and he collapses to the floor with a shout of pain.
The zealot sees their chance easily. All they need is the organs. It's not like they necessarily need a living body to pull them out of. They raise their pipe with their one usable hand, ready to strike a downed Daniel over the head with it.
no subject
Which he's not allowing much room for kindness. The world is darkness, but he's sure he stabs somewhere close to an upper arm, receiving a strike to the back of his head for the trouble. There's a shout, a grunt, and Daniel's paranoia pushed pressed against its limits, trying to surpass those. Robby's smacked back by some force he can't see or comprehend, magic?, he might think a second later; but there's a shout that goes through him, and the two before him no longer matter with the following thud.
The zealot stands, back to him, flaming pipe raising with Robby's heartbeat into his ears -- and there's no hesitation. Robby twists himself to kick out their leg from under them, toppling their balance. Luck would have them lose their weapon, but they've only lost their grip; and Robby has the thought without thinking to know their powers don't stop with a pipe, that when he comes to stand over them, he smashes his foot down on their face once, twice.
It's not enough. It's not enough to know that they won't get back up, they won't hurt Mister LaRusso again. A man he hasn't looked at to check, the other danger behind their backs not considered. Robby has to make sure, lowering, the knife gripped in his hand--
(his heartbeat drums inside his heat, his hand shakes, he sees their face, he remembers death)
--he moves it to plunge it down into their throat.
no subject
Despite the lingering bits of darkness, he can see clearly what's happening though by the time he raises his head, taking in a gasp of air. The first thing he notices is the two zealots still standing, looming over a bigger and a smaller figure on the ground, the latter seeming to be attempting to climb the former. Daniel forces himself to move despite the lingering tightness and pain, jumping up and using his momentum to push the two zealots against the wall, a hand for each, just to get those threats out of the way. (Away from Robby, he thinks, that's the most important thought in his mind while Daniel feels like he's running on nothing but sheer adrenaline at this point. Keep it all away from Robby, keep him safe--)
Except the thought of Robby makes him turn his head, still holding onto the zealots but trying to figure out what's going on with the teen, only to witness the exact moment Robby is about to lower that knife right into the zealot's flesh. It's already halfway down towards its destination when he calls out, his tone desperate.
"Robby!"
(It's not like it's necessarily the wrong course of action, because they're dealing with an awful, awful threat here, and maybe it'd be easier to just get that out of the way.
But-- not like this, never like this. Not just because of mister Miyagi's beliefs, or everything the man ever taught Daniel, but because this isn't what Daniel wants for Robby.
Blood on the boy's hands, guilt in his gut, that boy is still just a teenager, a child, he shouldn't--)
"Stop!"
(He can't let this place twist this boy.)
no subject
It hits skin too, but it's a nick, or maybe more than that; but it's the best Robby can do to divert the knife before it hits its intended target, finding the ground instead. His wrist twists and it loosens in his hold (and he remembers, yelling the same to his dad, the sai in his hand, Kreese knocked over), and Robby switches to grabbing the head by a tuft of hair and slamming it down once for good measure instead.
(They didn't resist, they weren't moving, they're not moving, he doesn't want them to move; he won't think about what their current state is, only--stay down, don't come for Mister LaRusso, okay, don't try anything again.)
His omen has shrunk back with the pair against the wall. It doesn't want to blind Daniel on top of the zealots, but it does go to try and gnaw on one of their legs just as Daniel makes the call. It stops the omen just as it had Robby, but it's not what truly stops it--or Daniel. For there's a hand extended by a zealot, a shout, and both omen -- even as a mass of shadows -- and the man are thrown off and away, reality pushing them down.
There's no knockback that the omen suffers, but the zealot seems to recognise this, sending the omen all the way down the length of the corridor as the other approaches Robby and Daniel.
Robby, who's now turned to the scene, not close enough to the blast to be affected, but-- "Mister LaRusso!"
He goes for the pipe, no longer blazing, itching at his skin. Peeling at it in reality, but he doesn't feel it as he stares down the one coming for him, them, his sensei. Robby moves around to come near Daniel with the intent to protect--
but he doesn't expect the sudden screeching between his ears, swallowing his mind that makes him stumble backwards, hands coming to his head. The pipe is yanked from him, but the zealot curses as they drop it due to the heat Robby was ignoring. Still, they're in a better state to kick Robby in the gut, knocking him to the ground with a grunt, curling onto his side.
Two zealots still stand. Two zealots in control of their powers.
no subject
He can feel some blood dripping from his nose and immediately freezing up underneath it from where he hit the ground, but Daniel ignores that, ignores even the pressure on his chest the moment he hears Robby. First the boy calling out his name, and then - from the corner of Daniel's eye - dropping to the ground, grunting in pain.
The zealot that didn't knock Robby down is approaching Daniel instead, and he waits just a moment, unmoving, hoping that the zealot may assume he's knocked out when the other can't see his face from this angle - but when the zealot is right above him, Daniel moves up, using the momentum of the movement to kick the zealot right in the stomach, then jumping up on his feet.
(It hurts, his brain vaguely registers, but it doesn't matter. He has to do something about these zealots, and that's all that matters in this moment.)
It's easy to let rage lead such a thing, tempting even for Daniel, but instead he inhales, then exhales. The blood everywhere - his own, the zealots', Robby's, all the other victims - is hanging so thick in the air, to the point all of them can't help but inhale it with each breath. But rather than letting it corrupt, Daniel calms himself and instead allows it to ignite something within him, slowly feeling the familiar sensation of his powers coming back to him.
It takes a moment, a defenseless moment, but thankfully the Omens are jumping in to help. First Daniel's own, closer to the fray after Robby's was knocked away, running around the zealots' feet to distract them, but then Daniel can even see Robby's own Omen running back to join in, keeping the zealots occupied as Daniel gathers himself.
All the way until he can feel the ice in his veins, until he charges at the zealots, the Omens helpfully moving out of his way. The zealots try to strike back, try to use their magic before Daniel can do anything, but they're just a moment too late due to the distraction. There's a few well-aimed strikes on Daniel's end, but rather than just hitting and hurting their arms, they instead cause a frost that spreads across the zealots' arms until they are frozen in place even while raised, looking like a pair of comic mannequins. (Bleeding mannequins, considering the wounds that Robby caused before are still open as well, dripping blood, making the air feel even heavier.)
Another strike to each chest makes the ice spread there too, both the zealots becoming just a little bit too top-heavy because of it, and so they both tip over, dropping to the floor. Not quite out cold (pun unintended), but Daniel stands over them, pondering if they can just leave them like that while they can't move, if he can grab Robby and just run and leave.
(Because there's something in the back of his head that tells him this isn't enough, that he should go further, that he should pay back these people with everything they have done to others, with what they have done to Robby.
Like something cracking at the edge of his mind, something that isn't really him--
Don't you want to protect him? It whispers, emboldened by the blood in the air. Don't you want to keep him safe? Is this really enough? If you don't want Robby to be this, to do this, then maybe you should do it in his place--
It sounds too much like Silver, and he hates it.)
"Robby."
Daniel doesn't look at the boy yet, like it's hard to tear his gaze away from the zealots, maybe a little too paranoid about them somehow being able to get back up on their feet. But he still has to know after the way he saw the other going down a few moments ago--
".. are you okay?"
no subject
There's one bent in there, a focus, pushing against the haze. Mister LaRusso, be okay-- Mister LaRusso, Mister LaRusso...
Something else lifts the fog away, re-aligning his vision into blurry colours before giving some vague sense of definition. The weight eases from Robby's head, and he stands with a stumble, squinting first before he can see down the walkway Mister LaRusso's back, the dropping figures encased in--something. Ice? In truth, he doesn't care what, only they're not rising again, none of them are. Robby scrambles over as Daniel says his name, his hands coming and pulling on one of his arms.
"C'mon," he urges; ignoring the question, brows furrowed just to help his eyes focus on the man. "--We have to go, we need to go. It's not safe."
His safety and health are meaningless to him when Mister LaRusso's matters more. If Daniel should look at Robby, even just turning to him (and Robby will start to walk back, nearly bumping into the other body on the floor--he doesn't look), there's a red mark from heat blistered on the side of his face, paled, his eyes flecked dark and with grey. A wet liquid glitters on a hand, the same one with a palm red and smooth, burnt worse than his cheek.
But it doesn't matter, and Robby shows nothing more than a desperation to get the man away, get them all away from here--to get going.
no subject
It's why Daniel's thoughts vanish entirely for a moment when he glances over at Robby, managing to tear his gaze away from the frozen zealots. The hurry in the other's tone, the desperation in his eyes. The wounds on Robby, the sight of which stings Daniel more than the sensation of the burn on his own chest, or the frozen blood on his own face.
He doesn't think. He just moves. With Robby's hands on his arm like that, it's easy to just pull the kid along, heading forward, thinking about nothing but stepping further towards the stairs, then moving up them.
It turns out the floor they end up is the final one. It's much smaller than any other before, and there's no longer any further way up. (Which is a problem, because-- well, there's not exactly an exit here, nothing visible as such, anyway. There's just an odd statue, surrounded by even more odd shapes.)
But Daniel doesn't think about it. It's a problem for the Daniel two minutes in the future, because present Daniel figures that this is the safest moment he's going to get here before having to figure out how the hell to get out of a place with no visible exit. The only way the zealots can come here is from downward, from the stairs, which makes this floor a whole lot easier to defend than any they were on before.
And he just-- he needs a moment, just a moment. He's too worried about Robby, about the other's state, Daniel only now realising what all these signs about the other meant. The odd behaviour, the near-murder, the pale skin and the colour in Robby's eyes.
Robby is corrupting, and Daniel refuses to let him fall into that. (Sure, he doesn't delude himself into thinking that he can get rid of it entirely in a place where blood hangs so thickly in the air, but-- maybe he can at least lessen it.) Even needing ten minutes more to figure how to get out of here could be bad, and so rather than turning towards the statue, Daniel turns towards the boy. His hands raise before landing on both sides of Robby's face - one a little bit further into his hairline, trying to avoid pressing his hand against the burn, since Daniel is well aware you're not supposed to press ice against a burn and his hands have got to be even colder after actively using his blood magic. The grip is firm but caring at the same time - I'm here and I won't let you fall all at the same time.
"Robby," Daniel says, repeating the other's name again. He's looking directly at him, and turns the boy's head just a little bit to make sure he's looking back at him too. "I want you to breathe for me."
Remember what you learned, Robby!
"Don't protest. We have time. Breathe."
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The anxiety feeds into his corruption, offering to soothe him in its cruelty. These people will kill anyone--and I won't let them kill us. Even if it hurts Mister LaRusso for a while, even if he's mad at him for weeks or months. He can take that, live with it, as long as the other lives too. Wouldn't he do anything for him? Anything? Isn't that all he's secretly wanted?
(Because he's seen people not make it out alive, and he won't live it again, he won't, he won't.)
It makes his stride all the more certain as they find themselves on the floor with no exit. Robby's ready to search, the expression he wears severe in its focus, and he'll start to move around Mister LaRusso so they can keep going.
But he doesn't get to when the man stops him. Robby looks at him, semi-detached, a glaze to his eyes that begins to soften when the hands touch his face. Confusion settles over him, and the earlier worry creeps in like a ticking clock, every second making his brows turn, his features crease.
His mouth opens for a protest that's rejected before he can get out more than sound, a useless note. But the hands he had started to lift, Robby continues with those, touching along weathered skin down to his wrists, and keeping them loosely wrapped around there. Like a silent gesture, affectionate and concerned.
You shouldn't worry about me.
But as if he knows it's a battle he can't win--or because it's not a battle he wants, not with Mister LaRusso--Robby tips his chin ever so slightly as his eyes close, and he breathes, the way he remembers he was taught. The sound of the world with a steady soul, a balanced mind; pushing through the fear, the pain. He knows the lesson well. He knows what Mister LaRusso wants him to do.
--But what about Mister LaRusso? Robby's mind whispers to him under all that. He looks at the man again before long, panicked, his hands gripping a little tighter. Looking behind him, as if someone might come and just--
"Mister LaRusso," he'll try again, whispered, hurried; but he'll concede if Daniel tells him again, close his eyes for a second time.
(But how can he not be scared? How can he breathe until his sensei is safe? He needs his sensei to be safe.)
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He knows he can't bring Robby all the way back down. Not while they're still in this situation, while everything is so tense. But he has to bring it at least down a little bit, because it's too much to see Robby in this state, knowing that it could only escalate into something worse. The corruption ought to still be at a relatively low level since he can't see many physical changes on Robby, but there's no telling how quickly that sort of thing might progress in a place like this.
He needs a moment. They need a moment, just a moment--
Thankfully Daniel has positioned himself so that he's the one looking out at the stairs, so he'll be able to spot it if they are being approached, rather than Robby. But there's still no one there, and Daniel can't even hear footsteps, so he knows they need to use this precious moment of quiet, of a lack of imminent danger.
"I'm right here, Robby. I'm with you." The words are said almost like a mantra as Daniel still watches the boy, as he continues to gently hold his face like that, like an extra physical reminder that he's here. (It'd be hard to pull his hands away with the way Robby is holding onto his wrists, anyway.) "We're in this together, and we'll get out of it together."
Daniel has to believe in that. Sure, there doesn't seem to be an exit in this small room, but they'll find a way. He refuses to believe that they're stuck in this awful place.
"So.. Find your focus, and trust me. That's all I'm asking from you right now."
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He doesn't want another cult killing (breathe), he doesn't want another attack (focus); he doesn't want them strewn up, hanging, a knife in them, a knife, a knife, a knife--
Breathe, he tries telling himself again, just like in every meditative session. The quiet of the day, the way his body can relax; the place he goes back to, to piece himself together. Re-align his mind, stop it from tilting and toppling. Even with a pounding heart in his chest, even against the trepidation. Robby forces himself to ignore them both and to forget time, the ticking seconds and what they could be, despite how they threaten to choke at him. A physical fight would be easier than the one with himself, but Robby challenges, he commits.
The nervous tug of his brow loosens inch by inch, the shivering of his hands coming down to a murmur. A fear that can't truly be suppressed, but the grip to Mister LaRusso's wrists ease some--and more so with one hand, where the scarring from the heated rod has left his palm red.
Robby doesn't open his eyes, or speak--not until he's told he's spoken to first, given permission.
And there might be a little more colour to him, his skin or eyes, but it's hard to tell with the dull shade of green his irises usually are, and by the lighting of the room.
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But he has to be strong. He knows. Just like mister Miyagi was the strong one for him when Daniel was terrified, when it sure did feel like he was fighting for his very life on the mat - that's what he has to be for Robby now, even more so when the stakes are much higher. So Daniel also tries to calm himself. Tries to follow his own advice, breathing in and out, trying to balance his feelings. Yes, this situation is terrifying, and he's so worried about this boy's wellbeing, but they've managed to get through it so far. And Robby is in front of him now, safe, actually breathing like Daniel asked him to. As the man watches some of the corruption subside, he feels a sense of pride blossoming in his chest. Proud of the boy even under the worst possible circumstances, just to see him trying so hard, to see him use the principles of Miyagi-do when it matters the most.
"Good job," Daniel says so softly that it's almost more a whisper. The hand on which the hold is loosened the most slowly moves off Robby's face, instead moving through Robby's hair briefly before dropping, and then Daniel's other hand also removes itself from the boy's face. "You're doing really well. I'm so proud of you."
Despite the situation they're stuck in, the words themselves are not lacking in warmth. Daniel means each and every single one.
"You can open your eyes again now," he says, fairly certain that getting rid of what remains of the corruption would actually require them getting out of here. Finding some sense of safety again, of comfort, treating their physical injuries as well.
But Daniel remains standing there for just another moment, if not just so Robby can see the man smiling at him first thing when he opens his eyes.
"Let's look around and see if we can find a clue here as to how to get out of here, alright?"
cw: gore, organs
He wishes it would last, another touch to pull him in further, but the voice guides him out instead; to a face like in his memory, but without their current situation lost to Robby. It's ill-fitted, but reads as a reassurance, a 'see?' that shows everything is fine, at least for them. Robby nods wordlessly to Mister LaRusso's direction, and he brings his hands to hover somewhere over his stomach with nowhere for them to be now, a dull irritation throbbing both to his palm and gut.
There's an itch in him still that wants to hurry, a need to keep his ears open for any peculiar sounds, even beyond what the situation would call for. Robby tries to keep Mister LaRusso's words in his mind, however, as they split as much as they can in this room: with walls a kaleidoscope of colours of gems, five doors to choose from, and the centrepiece--
Robby recognises that statue, before his eyes can adjust and recognise what it is that surrounds it. Wet, mostly pinks, and some even seem to move: a steady heartbeat, a careful breath through a pair of lungs. Intestines, spleens, kidneys.
He stares at the display in a fixated moment where he can't drag his gaze away in a mixture of disbelief and horror, until something snaps, lets him do so, to look anywhere else. There's doors, but which one?
He would've tried one before, but he returns to Mister LaRusso instead, eyes kept very deliberately away from the monument in the centre. "Let's try them together."
Sticking together, and all.
cw: gore
So Daniel nods as they turn towards the most nearby door. "I'll open it, alright?"
Partially because he'd rather be the first in the line of fire, yes, but also for a reason he makes clear by holding up his own palm for a moment, as if to wordlessly say it's easier for him to open up that door when the burn isn't on his hand in his case.
But he at least allows the boy by his side when he puts his hand on the door, a soft - but audible to Robby - count to three under his breath to make sure they're both prepare to potentially defend against whatever they may find on the other side, since Daniel certainly is counting on it being more zealots.
.. except it's not. When Daniel opens the door on three, there's nothing on the other side.
Nothing alive, anyway. There's just.. a husk of a person. Something that was human, but is barely recognizable as such at this point. A torso torn open, all organs and blood removed, looking little more than like something one might find in a slaughterhouse. The room behind the door is so small, and it's all there is in there, and the combination of any lack of exit with that sight makes Daniel pull the door back shut so quickly that it's almost a reflex-like movement, like the door burned his hand.
Shit. He can't get the thought out of his own mind, and it's making him feel quite literally nauseous, but Daniel's concern instead makes him look over at Robby, realising the poor boy saw that too. Despite the sight being gone now the door is closed again, Daniel still steps between the door and the boy, even if there's no longer any sight to protect him from. (The sight of what Robby could have been, if Daniel would have arrived just a little bit later, if he hadn't coincidentally been in the right place at the right time--)
The damage has already been done.
"Let me look behind the other ones," he says, no - pleads, looking right at Robby. He at least has to spare the other from more sights like those.
Daniel swallows, trying to find a compromise here, even though his brain is absolutely working overtime at this point. It's hard when every single part of him screams for him to protect Robby from all of this, yet it feels like there's not a single thing he can actually protect the other from under these circumstances. Even as he tries all the same. "Can-- Can you keep an eye on the stairs?"
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And it doesn't go, not really, when on the other side isn't anything that can hurt them.
But it's sickening, and it drains Robby of the blood that someone had wanted to cut out from him. He doesn't keep looking; the moment his eyes adjust and he realises what it is he's looking at, Robby turns away, the smell hitting his nostrils more sickening than what their current room was providing.
That place of peace and serenity is so far away, and Robby is trying desperately to cling on and compartmentalise everything around him.
Except-- except he'd seen how small that room had looked, and he looks over at the centrepiece of the room, overflowing flush and pink in the presence of the statue, a halo of light falling down over all. Robby looks at Mister LaRusso when he speaks, torn between his own thoughts, the want to stay by Mister LaRusso (because what if?), but then he realises--
"--Let the omens look. They're smoke-- we don't need to open the doors. I think we need to turn back." He swallows around the words, a little hurried, but-- neither of them need to see what they just did again, and Robby turns to see his omen already coming over to them, a mass of shadows shaped like a four-legged beast.
But he clarifies what he means by what he last said, only nodding his head to the statue. "Why would there be an exit in some altar room?"
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.. though it seems to be trying to calm down Daniel all the same, the shisa sitting down next to him and nudging his head against Daniel's arm until said arm reaches back, the man moving his hand through the lion-dog's cloudy mane. Like a physical reminder to breathe, even in the middle of all this.
Especially since there's something about what Robby is saying that Daniel hates the implications of. Not just going down there and risking facing more of those zealot lunatics, but also the fact that Daniel doesn't think he ever saw an exit. He knows the floor he woke up on must have been the lowest floor in the entire complex since there was no stairway leading down, but even there he doesn't remember seeing any door, any exit - unless he missed it in his rush to get to Robby.
And the idea that there's no exit at all is unacceptable. He won't have it. Not for himself, and even less so for Robby, as the two of them stand there, clearly both hurt enough already. He has to get them out of here safely - but how?
Even his Omen sitting next to him doesn't seem to have an answer. It just sits there, like all it knows how to do to help in this moment is provide comfort for a moment before looking at the other doors.
Maybe there isn't time for that though. There's footsteps on the stairs. Again those damn footsteps, and Daniel's Omen pulls away from him, alert, baring its teeth, while the man himself steps closer to Robby, standing right by the boy's side.
He doesn't want to fight more. He's so tired already.
But what other choice is there to keep them safe? He'll keep doing this, as often as he has to until they're out.
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The threat doesn't make it. Instead, there's a light: white and soothing, the same as the Moon Presence's glow, warm and sympathetic over their bodies. As if some larger force knows of their fear, their exhaustion, and says without a voice: You're alright. You're safe.
Safety itself envelops them, and when they can see again, eyes soothed and not stinging despite the white, despite the change in scenery, they stand within a place of meaning to the both of them: the Miyagi-do dojo. The light is on above their heads, Daniel's bonsai with the shears and small tray beside it; the soft mat underneath their feet, the western style door leading into the house and eastern style sliding ones leading out into a garden gathering fresh snow.
Robby stares at the new sight, confuse despite the comfort. How, who--but he looks to see Mister LaRusso beside him still, the both of them dressed as they were already, and he puts his hands on the man's arms with his brow furrowing, looking from him to the room. "Mister LaRusso?"
You're okay? We're okay? asks that tone, where a part of him wants to be suspicious, as does his omen, moving through the room and around to check its senses, but the sensation--it had been so believing, so honest.
And yet, it's baffling to comprehend. That all that could just be...over, and here they are in the quiet of Mister LaRusso's home. Of the--their--dojo.
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But the change in sound jolts Daniel's brain out of even contemplating that possibility. It's such a change to go from that structure they were in mere moments ago, filled with groans of agony, and hurried footsteps, and metal tools, to..
.. well, this. The dojo as Daniel knows it, silent and serene. The only sound coming from the windchimes hanging outside the door.
It's hard to deny this atmosphere, to see it as anything other than real, even if it makes no sense that they could go from a terrible situation to this so easily. Even with that warmth that came over them, one even Daniel could somehow feel. A presence so comforting that Daniel hasn't felt anything like it in a long time now, a feeling that soaks down all the way into his bones.
The man glances over at the Omens, and then back over at Robby, slowly exhaling.
"We're back," he says, as if at least one of them has to actually say those words to allow any sense of relief to set in. As if one of them needs to confirm that this really is happening.
It doesn't make what they've gone through just now any better, especially with the wounds still on both of them as a physical reminder that what they went through was also very much real, but at least it prevents any further harm from coming to them at the hands of that place.
Daniel glances at the hand that's resting on his arm, but he doesn't move away from it, allows Robby to keep it on him if he so wishes.
"Are you okay?"
(He doubts either of them is fully okay just now.
But even a relative answer to that can tell Daniel a lot, he figures.)
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