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
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.)
no subject
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."
no subject
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.
no subject
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?"
no subject
.. 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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.)
no subject
"I'll check it out."
Robby doesn't wait for agreement or any response. It's better that he goes first, speaks reason; the urge to protect his sensei not having left Robby despite their leaving that place, and he has to be sure. His omen is only happy to accompany him, to stalk the hall leading closer to the kitchen and living room. Just for any sign of any danger, whatever form it might take. If this is some kind of illusion, or if this is really Mister LaRusso's house -- then what if those people broke in? What if anyone broke in?
He just wants it to be safe, to be sure. His footsteps can be heard, the soft slapping of skin as he hurries to make a quick scan. And he wishes there were more rooms by the time he reaches the living room, standing there--
Not quite sure what to do. Just standing, and maybe saying once Mister LaRusso finally catches up, voice quiet:
"It doesn't look like anyone's been here."
no subject
Daniel looks over at mister Miyagi's framed medal of honor - the thing that reminds him of the man the most, when he can't stare at his photo the way he used to do in the dojo back home. It's a little too embarrassing to speak out loud to it when Robby would most likely be able to hear, so instead Daniel just stares at it for a moment, even as he can feel his Omen still gently bumping against his hand, trying to comfort his heart.
Did I do right, mister Miyagi?
It feels like he at least did something right by being there in time to save Robby, sure - but it feels like he could have done better. Maybe he should have protected the boy so he never would have ended up there in the first place. Maybe he should have protected him better inside of that building, just so Robby wouldn't have to be so on edge now. Just so Robby wouldn't have to be hurt - so neither of them would have to be, Daniel is reminded of by the sting on his chest and his face.
He sucks in a breath and then turns to follow the boy, finding Robby there in the living room. Daniel slowly walks up to him, and then puts a hand on Robby's shoulder while turning his head to look around the room at the same time.
".. yeah," he slowly agrees. "I think our Omens would've noticed if anyone else was here."
But neither of them seem to be trying to point something out to them, as far as Daniel can see.
"I think.. It's really over now. Somehow." Because, boy, that sure was an abrupt end to it. Not that Daniel is complaining, but he understands why it might make it harder to move on from those moments, to realise they're truly somewhere safe now.
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That's it, but what does that mean for the two of them now? For Robby, glancing at Mister LaRusso when he speaks, but then eyeing the room uncertainly. His omen sits watching them just as unsure, quiet, whatever thoughts it has kept reserved to itself, and Robby is working his brain for anything to say or do.
And he's failing at it, except for a lame and quietly asked, "Is it okay if I sit?" which, if allowed, he'll take a seat on the sofa by an arm, facing towards the fireplace, and just...trying to decide what comes next.
When it feels like nothing comes next.
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The latter excuses himself for a moment, but is sure to say he'll be right back, not wanting to leave Robby alone for too long in this state.
It's just that he has to go into the kitchen to splash his face with some water to try and calm down, rubbing some at the area between his nose and his mouth to try and get rid of the frozen coldblood there. It's tempting to stare at his hands, or to do breathing exercises, but thinking of Robby has him instead grabbing the first aid kit and filling a bucket with ice, his powers at least coming to him pretty easily while a part of him is still faintly on edge.
He returns to the living room with those, holding out the bucket to Robby.
"Here, put your hand in this."
It's not like he didn't notice the way it had been burned back there, after all. It may technically be a little too late for this, but better late than never.
This is something he can do in this moment. Something he can focus on. He can't just make Robby forget about that awful experience, but he can at least try to take care of him. At least it's something. A start.
"Let me help to patch you back up."
Perhaps not too different from the time they had sat on the couch together after that battle in the dojo - though the stakes certainly had been higher this time, but perhaps just as emotionally tough in other ways.
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Because he doesn't want them seeing what he's thinking, try to give him any more affection than this.
(No, maybe that's a lie--maybe it's simply because he can't handle it.)
Robby glances at Mister LaRusso when he returns, wordlessly raising his hand and sinking it in the cold ice. Something twitches in his hand like a muscle spasm, and maybe it's that. He doesn't feel the sting of the burn as much again, nor the one at his stomach; and he's not thinking about them either with the other thoughts plaguing his mind. He doesn't want to clean himself up; he doesn't want to think about his health. Rather...
"Mister LaRusso? Can I ask something?" There's a pause, space made for an answer in the affirmative, or asked if the man should attempt to move out from the room: "--Can you just sit with me instead?"
Instead of patching him up, doing whatever else. He doesn't care, he just wants-- he just doesn't want to be alone right now, he thinks.
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But the question - even before it's asked - stills him. There's an affirmative hum at the prelude, but when Daniel hears Robby's actual request, he looks surprised.
Only for a brief moment, however. The surprise in his eyes is quick to melt, his gaze turning so much softer as it's aimed directly at Robby without a single attempt to hide it. It's a softness that's edged with worry. After all.. It's in moments like these that Daniel is reminded once more of just how young Robby is, no matter how old he pretends to be at times. He's still a kid. A kid who's been thrown into circumstances that are way too difficult to deal with. Daniel himself already can't quite deal with them, judging by that nasty feeling still present in his chest, an anxiety that bounces back and forth, renders him unable to fully calm down in this moment.
So how could such a young kid deal with it?
".. of course, bud."
It's a soft answer, but not lacking in warmth. A part of Daniel would like to patch Robby up before taking time for anything else, but he tells that part to shut up for a bit. Maybe this can help take care of Robby's emotional state a little, and.. in some ways, that's just as important.
He puts everything he already gathered down on the table, and instead has his hands completely empty as he moves to sit down next to where Robby is sitting.
There's no awkward huge distance between them like this, but there's still a touch of a respectful distance, of Daniel wanting to make sure to do whatever is most comfortable for the boy in this moment.
That is likely also the driving force between the way he turns his head slightly to the side to look at Robby, asking: "Do you want me a little bit closer?"
Despite the fact that Daniel himself has not nearly calmed down as much as he'd like to pretend he has in this moment, his voice is devoid of any hints as to that fact, instead filled with nothing but parental indulgence. A wish to spoil a kid, if that's what needed to heal their heart, even just a little bit.
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He does want him closer, if he's being honest by himself; and he has no reason to be anything else like this, his arms still wrapped comfortably around the omen's small form, his gaze over on the floor.
Robby doesn't really need to look, either, once Mister LaRusso does shuffle closer; because even if their arms are close to touching, Robby leans his weight against the man anyway, ignoring the smell of dirt and oil from their overalls, and simply taking in the touch of their bodies in even a small press of intimacy.
Because he doesn't want to talk about what happened, but it doesn't mean that it didn't; it doesn't mean he's ready to go home to Tory and know how he should act, when he doesn't want to be truthful--not right now, not about this. He wants to close his eyes and be selfish.
He doesn't want to be responsible or thoughtful.
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It's the man who starts moving first after a moment. Nothing too big, and certainly nothing that would jostle Robby away from him. Instead he slowly shifts Robby so he's leaning against Daniel's side and the man's arm is free, and then reaches out to wrap that arm around the boy's back, until it moves to rest on his opposite arm, fingers spread out on the upper part of his arm near the shoulder.
It moves to pull the boy even a bit closer, Daniel's body turning a bit so Robby has even more to lean against. Not a full on hug, no, but just enough to have a little bit more contact.
He doesn't say anything for another moment, fingers gently rubbing reassuringly against Robby's arm.
It's okay, a part of Daniel wants to say to reassure the boy, but nothing about what just happened was okay. Robby should never have been in that situation to begin with. The boy nearly died. If Daniel had been a moment later, or if he hadn't been there at all, then-- then he would've ended up like the other corpses back there, drained of anything useful to those zealots. He wouldn't have been sitting here on the couch next to Daniel, still living and breathing.
His hold on Robby is a reminder of it in this moment. Even if none of that was okay, at least Robby got out of there alive. As long as he's alive, they can still make things better.
"I'm here," he finally says.
Maybe that's all he can offer the other. He can't make everything magically okay, as much as he wishes he could. But what Daniel can offer Robby is very much the same thing mister Miyagi offered him, way back. Someone who's there. Someone you can lean on unconditionally, even when things seem impossible to deal with.
Someone who won't let you be alone during tough moments.
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A cold side, but living, and breathing. His eyes had opened a little in the stirring, but as the fingers brush against him in comfort, Robby lets his senses focus on these things: the presence of another, the small gestures of affection. Maybe he should have some shame, pretend that he's thinking of his mother, make up some excuse in his mind about how this is alright.
But Mister LaRusso says 'I'm here', and he doesn't think he would want to hear it from anybody else. His body relaxes, like the words are permission, his own body tilting more towards Mister Larusso so his head can rest more comfortable on his shoulder. He moves his one good hand (or, one good palm) onto the man's thigh to rest, and like this, he might be considerate enough to ask in a mumbling voice--
"Is this okay?"
It's not just about his hand. It's not about any singular thing, but this as a whole, this fine line they're crossing over, what Robby's asking, what they're doing. Maybe this is another part of being a sensei to Mister LaRusso, but--
But Robby knows he's asking -- and taking -- far more than any person should from just a mentor.
Still, there's only one answer he really wants to hear.
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