Manabu Yuuki (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
siriusly) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
deercountry2021-10-29 10:00 pm
siriusly) wrote in deercountry2021-10-29 10:00 pm
Entry tags:
alive! (derogatory)
Who: Childe and Manabu
What: Manabu respawns in Childe's dead-person ice box
When: End of October
Where: Childe's kitchen
Content Warnings: Body horrorx100, body morphing animorphs-style, death mentions, asphyxiation, gross auditory cues, emetophobia
The darkness is only comforting when there's suddenly something to contrast it.
No more peaceful oceans to glide through with a sense of security and purpose, no trees and soft meadows and fruit, no distant echoes of babbling waters...none of that follows the darkness this time. This time...it's the burning awareness of cold as the numbness wears off.
It's so cold. Too cold to move, to even breathe...
Because he can't.
Manabu's return is fast, almost comically fast by comparison to how long his body had laid dormant. There's barely a chance to even come to terms with the sudden sense of self before the matter of being unable to breathe becomes the sole focus. After all, squids are sea-creatures - coming back to life in an ice box full of crystalized blood and matter and...well, ice, isn't really going to cut it.
Amidst the panic, he doesn't realize that the high-pitched noises are his - burgeoning attempts at the formation of vocal chords to give his thoughts a voice. Kind of hard in the fluctuating state he's in, and it won't get any prettier as it progresses. And progress it does! Manabu is blind through most all of it, and that in of itself is likely a blessing, because he is not a pretty sight, especially if what he sounds like is any indication. Underneath the shrieking is squelching, schlorping, and crunching as flailing tentacles start to meld together, as bones start to form inside.
The acoustics in this place are lovely; they really carry the sounds of pure, primal anguish and terror and unholy morphing in progress. That is, after the unholy pounding on the ice box door finally proves enough to pop that top right off and expose this nightmare to the open air.
...Which he still can't breathe.
What: Manabu respawns in Childe's dead-person ice box
When: End of October
Where: Childe's kitchen
Content Warnings: Body horrorx100, body morphing animorphs-style, death mentions, asphyxiation, gross auditory cues, emetophobia
The darkness is only comforting when there's suddenly something to contrast it.
No more peaceful oceans to glide through with a sense of security and purpose, no trees and soft meadows and fruit, no distant echoes of babbling waters...none of that follows the darkness this time. This time...it's the burning awareness of cold as the numbness wears off.
It's so cold. Too cold to move, to even breathe...
Because he can't.
I can't breathe!
Manabu's return is fast, almost comically fast by comparison to how long his body had laid dormant. There's barely a chance to even come to terms with the sudden sense of self before the matter of being unable to breathe becomes the sole focus. After all, squids are sea-creatures - coming back to life in an ice box full of crystalized blood and matter and...well, ice, isn't really going to cut it.
Wh-what's going on?! It's--it's so cold. I can't breathe! Am I dying?
Someone! Help! Help me!
Amidst the panic, he doesn't realize that the high-pitched noises are his - burgeoning attempts at the formation of vocal chords to give his thoughts a voice. Kind of hard in the fluctuating state he's in, and it won't get any prettier as it progresses. And progress it does! Manabu is blind through most all of it, and that in of itself is likely a blessing, because he is not a pretty sight, especially if what he sounds like is any indication. Underneath the shrieking is squelching, schlorping, and crunching as flailing tentacles start to meld together, as bones start to form inside.
The acoustics in this place are lovely; they really carry the sounds of pure, primal anguish and terror and unholy morphing in progress. That is, after the unholy pounding on the ice box door finally proves enough to pop that top right off and expose this nightmare to the open air.
...Which he still can't breathe.
no subject
Not well, it turns out! Part of him wants to reject it outright, the way he always refuses to let people feel sorry for his own outcomes. Part of him wants to lean into that and press for more details. Part of him...wants nothing to do with it at all, just wants to block all of this out even though he knows it won't change things.
It's even harder to sit still when I'm sorry hits his ears: His face flushes hot and he grimaces, quickly shaking his head with a struggled, nasally sound of disapproval.
"Nn-no, no." Another easy sound. "No. Nn--not. No..."
no subject
He gives a wave of his hands, seemingly to dismiss the matter at hand. He hadn't meant to embarrass him, and well, perhaps that was something best left alone for now.
"Forget I said anything. Maybe it's best if we focus on getting food in your stomach instead of events of the past. If you don't eat, then you'll only become weaker than you are as it is. I implore you to try some, it's quite good."
no subject
Childe's probably right; even though he's far from hungry, considering what had just come out of him, it's...probably worth a try? Maybe he'd feel more human at least.
So he tries. It's graceless, almost like a toddler picking at food, but he gets more food in his mouth than misses, so if he were in the business to feel proud about anything in the moment, it'd be that. Something as basic as eating helps - not just from the vitality standpoint, but the sensory memories connected to such foods helps anchor him back into a better mindstate. Dumplings are nostalgic for him: He used to do a piss-poor job helping his mom make them as part of her overnight prep work at the restaurant.
He's such a long way from there, in so many different ways...
A couple dumplings in and Manabu finds his eyes welling up again, prompting him to stop for a bit to rub at them and just sit, head in his hands for a couple minutes of silence, after which he can actually lift his head back up again and utter a soft sound.
"S'good."
no subject
Childe gives Manabu his space to eat, and all the time he needs to eat them. Even if he needs to get some tears out of the way to do it. If anything, he's glad he's eating anything at all. Throwing up your insides while configuring back into a human was already traumatic enough, let alone even thinking about putting something in your stomach afterward. He silently commends Manabu for that alone.
"Do you think you'll need something to temporarily assist you with walking? I figured you'd probably want to try to be as independent as possible. Another friend of mine died a few weeks back as well, and his recovery has also been slow, so I imagine it will be the same for you."
no subject
He swallows thickly against those uncomfortable feelings, turning his head to look over toward Childe as he speaks. It takes a few seconds to process the words, because Manabu's mind wants to wander and linger on the surreal quality of just being here with company.
Once the words click, however, Manabu's expression shifts. Another friend of mine died.
"Who-?"
no subject
Childe doesn't let himself look down for long, lifting his head up and smiling back at Manabu. He's fine, we're all fine here.
"You may have seen him around Trench. There's no mistaking that striking red hair of his. Actually, the other half of this batch of dumplings was for him."
no subject
He utters a soft sound of acknowledgement, looking back down at the remains of the food he picked at. Hadn't Diluc had enough death? That canoe voyage through bloody waters full of the bodies of his friends and family wasn't that long ago...was it?
Was it? Manabu rubs at his face, struck by a wave of dread. How long has it been?
"Okay," he murmurs, dragging his hand away to fall in his lap. "Kay..."
no subject
"I'll prepare your bed for the remainder of the time you'll need to recover. I apologize for the lack of entertainment, I'm not home most of the time. It's really more of a place to eat and sleep. I'll be back momentarily. Just send your omen if you need anything."
Leaving, he walks down the hallway and disappears into a smaller guest bedroom occupied not but a few days earlier by a small child. He has to make sure Klee didn't leave any bombs in there, he can't imagine how that would go if Manabu were to discover one.