(no subject)

[centile]

Who: mob, yoichi, daniel larusso, robby keene, sunny, jun, deku, peter + others
What: mob loses control of his powers, destroys part of crenshaw, hurts several people and makes future karate practice pretty awkward. a semi-open log/plot
When: 15th of march
Where: crenshaw near miyagi-do, potentially fallout threads elsewhere

Content Warnings: potentially large scale destruction (of some buildings,) injuries and violence, kid characters injured and in danger, beast violence, potentially heavy spoilers for mob psycho 100

Comments

ooc; plotting/handwave

[centile]

the crux of this plot involves a few things people are more than welcome to get involved with if they like:

- part of crenshaw is going to be under what looks like some sort of natural disaster, which is mob. anyone is welcome to witness this. the fallout will likely be some destroyed buildings
- there's going to be a lot of flying debris, high winds and a general pressure. anyone is welcome to get injured if they want by these!
- if anyone wants to try to fight him i'd be happy to thread or handwave it. there's already a solution to the problem set but basic big, dramatic anime fights are welcome
- anyone who wants to handwave or thread protecting people, especially native trench goers, is extremely welcome to.

my only ask is no one die, though if that's something you really want to do i'm willing to discuss it! either here, pming this account or you can find me on plurk at dichotomy . i cannot stress enough i am very open to being a vehicle for anyone wanting some drama/heroics/etc with this

<b>character:</b> <b>involvement:</b> <b>handwave or threading:<b>

[possessum]

character: Peter Graham
involvement: Peter (who is a student at Miyagi-do) will be present when Mob initially Loses It, and will witness Daniel LaRusso / possibly others getting hurt. He is Severely Possessed by a traumatised demon that is very sensitive to shifts in energy, so naturally Paimon will be having a bit of a Demon Freakout in response to all the chaos and will probably get hissy at Mob / anyone else in the nearby vicinity. He can be a pretty powerful force to be reckoned with if left unchecked when he's in Horror Demon Mode, but there are plenty of ic ways we could cut that off at any point! I definitely don't want it to get in the way, and is mostly just an added Chaotic Factor. The one good thing is that Paimon also has telekinetic abilities, so will be able to keep himself/Peter from getting injured by flying debris. (The thing here that will stick with Peter is that if he were more in control of his own situation, he could maybe have utilised this demon to help protect other people too. Things he will be thinking about after all this is said and done, as well as how upsetting it is to witness someone else lose it, and on such a monumental scale!) But I do think Peter is really going to just try to help out however he can, while also not wanting to Add More Problems to the mix with his unstable ass, so after his demon gets restrained again, I can see him staying behind to help any injured people / things related to that? But I'm honestly wide open to ideas and filling in any spots folks might need for something.
handwave or threading: I'm good for either! Paimon getting a bit feral at people, people maybe getting hit by the debris that he sends flying away from Peter because he's just adding to the stress of everything fjdk;f, Peter trying to help injured folks, all those types of things could be easily handwaved, BUT I'm absolutely down to thread stuff out too.

Re: ooc; plotting/handwave

[ezra_of_lothal]

character: Ezra Bridger
involvement: Not directly involved while stuff is going down. I think it's reasonable for Ezra to feel a big shift in energy from across town (home is Cassandra and he's often up in Feed, too) but not arrive on scene until the aftermath. He's here to be support for Mob and other emotionally and physically battered.
handwave or threading:We can thread out or handwave any of those more involved telling Ezra what went down. I'm game! Definitely will thread Mob. Open to other things!

for yoichi | beast research gone very wrong

[centile]

[it's been a strange day. the evening before his fight with ritsu was intense, and then robby helped him cope with it quite a bit better than he would have. he still feels a little worn out from it all but hopeful. he went to karate practice, did his best, decided he'd go find ritsu after and work things out.

they were brothers, after all, and nothing could change that. he owed it to ritsu to always try his best for him, and be there for him.

it's the tail end of practice that he feels something a little strange in the distance. mistake one is wandering away from sensei and the others as things wrapped up. just a street away, where he takes a moment to look around before deciding upon mistake two, which is he should focus on getting back home. maybe he could pick up something for ritsu from one of the shops, something he'd like.

surely nothing out there is looking for him, after all.]

I have no icons for this.

[bankvault]

[Things had been going very well up until suddenly they weren't, and now a Beast creeps with alarming quiet through Crenshaw. Its focus is absolute, following the only thought it still had that was anything like coherency - Find Mob. It had been more extensive earlier on the thrill of temporary success, he'd have to find mob and tell him it works!

That any thought remains at all is astonishing. Keeps it from rampaging freely, keeps it driven by its singular goal. It's long and vaguely serpentine, winding its way carefully through territory neither it nor Yoichi knew, its body made up of some sort of strange thick silvery fog or mist and held together by wrappings of bandage, chain and sturdy metal plates. The plants the foggy wisps touch as it passes wither and die, corroding away into blackened stumps.

It should be immediately obvious. There are guards and hunts for this exact problem, beasts loose in inhabited areas. But it's hard to look right at it and as soon as eyes move away it's hard to pay attention to it again, and so it creeps on. Find Mob.

And then that one singular goal is met. There's Mob, thinking in the street, and the beast stretches up like a cobra in a low scrape of chain and metal dragging on stone, satisfied. Mob has Been Found.. and as soon as that thought occurs to it, all remaining dregs of rational thought fade away to hunger and instinct.

As soon as the young psychic so much as twitches, the beast strikes with gaping jaws of mist and metal, serrated sawblade false teeth a brief flash of gleaming silver.]

for robby and daniel | cw: injury to a kid, blood, general destruction

[centile]

[robby will be the first to feel something is very wrong.

it's right at the end of a typical karate practice. mob's already confided in him he's going to go try to talk to ritsu soon, work things out, be honest about a lot of what they haven't really said. he's hopeful, a little worn out from everything but determined to make things better. his gratitude towards robby pings at the bond every once and a while.

mob wanders off after practice a little early, which isn't too odd. sometimes he has work, or sometimes he gets distracted by some other task, so leaving without saying goodbye isn't particularly strange. what is strange is the mix of emotions that filter through the bond- vague confusion, alarm, concern.

and then ultimately a split second of true fear before the bond seems to cut out.

obviously mob couldn't be far, and it won't be that hard to recognize a beast attack. anyone who comes out in time might even get to see mob lying on the street in the distance, blood pooling around him.]

[strongroots]

[ Things are looking promising, is Robby's mood that day. Life still has problems, his own included, but after working with Mob last night and the boy's mood today, Mob isn't the only hopeful one. Any feelings are responded in turn, gratitude with pride. He's smiling a lot during class, glances taken at the younger guy.

He's not worried. Mob's good at taking his omen out, and he's got incense (well, who lights that up during the day near the dojo, right...), and his and his brother's problems will work themselves out in time. He's not worried about the boy disappearing either (typical), and he's talking to Mister LaRusso at the time, talking about how practising with bloodmagic right now isn't a good idea for him; disappointed, but resigned to how Trench life is. ]

I keep trying to get a handle of what I'm doing, but it changes, [ he's in the midst of explaining; troubles Mister LaRusso already somewhat knows about, they live together, but attempts at steadying what's going on has been failing.

He's cradling his wrist with the blood band around it, smile light, when--Robby blinks. His expression lingers in its positive-to-neutral state, though his focus seems distance as inwardly, he 'listens' to the bond. Confusion can be anything, it's probably not worth his attention, until that alarm kicks in.

His own confusion takes the form of Mob's name down their bond, even if an actual answer can't be anything but emotions. Mob will let him know though if it's anything bad, and now Robby's looking to the side, distracted entirely.

And then his eyes widen as that burst of fear comes through. ]

--Mob? [ Fear, panic colours his tone. He looks at Mister LaRusso once, but he doesn't really see him before he darts--out through the side garden door, feet exposed to the concrete the front of the house offers. His omen's already come out from where it watches the front, and it runs ahead where Robby follows. Mob was going to see his brother, they know which way he'd go.

And he feels his omen's signal, hears the howl meant to bring alarm to him and Mister LaRusso's omen--and he sees his omen standing there, growing larger and shrouded with shadows with the desire to protect, next to a body on the ground.

Mob's body.

The colour of blood-orange. ]

No no nono-- [ The sight stopped him dead, but Robby sprints faster than he had before, planning to reach Mob, come down by his side. He's been learning from Miss Uchiha, he needs to be careful, he needs to see where he's hurt.

So is the plan, the one that carries his feet. ]

open | points at post content warnings

[centile]

[clouds are gathering in crenshaw, not too far from miyagi-do. the wind picks up, nearing dangerous speeds the closer one gets to a particular street, and a particular boy standing in the street.

people who know mob might not immediately recognize him. his eyes are wide and white, unblinking, as his hair floats and fans out into the air and out of his eyes. even people without any psychic sensitivity can see a thick, dark aura pulsing out of him. people with that sensitivity will be able to see how he seems to draw in the energy around him, like a pit that doesn't seem to end.

the street around him is cracked, and any step he takes sends more cracks through the stone. the wind and pressure gets nearly unbearable the closer anyone gets, and large chunks of debris whirl around in the air. some of the building nearby may start to crack, start to crumble into pieces that whip around with the rest of the rubble.

and, if someone gets close enough, those wide, white eyes might turn unerringly to them. the buzzing pressure in the air undoubtedly feels like a warning, as much as the odd remains of what must be a beast nearby.]

[fugu]

[ He Xuan has felt this sort of power before: those few times when a mortal ascended to a god, or a god faced a calamity to ascend through the heavens — and once when he cracked the mountain crucible with the force of his emergence after consuming the thousands of ghosts that had been trapped within with him. To him, it's what the ocean outside Trench feels like all the time, a massive chaotic pressure of power, Mariana in her truest form.

He's been lighting incense daily since he arrived; it's in her name that he travels towards and not away from the pressure that is cracking the buildings of Crenshaw, all the new vegetation rustling in one calamitous sussurus. He Xuan doesn't find it difficult to track that violence to his source — and then he pauses.

Just a boy. He thinks he might even recognise the kid, though there are a surprising amount of Japanese youths running around the Trench streets. His own energy feels pulverised by the psychic waves emanating off him now, like Mob really could exorcise him after all.

In response, he bites his own hand open, blood smearing across his mouth, and clenches his fist around that offering to his own new power. His sense of self solidifies again, and the black hole of his empathy field flexes wider. Resentful energy and blood corruption intermingle a little in his veins and throughout his meridians, his already dark eyes gone black, his hair and robes lifting as though he's beneath the sea again.

Determined, He Xuan takes a step forward, towards the epicentre. ]

for jun | sorry about the concussion thread

[centile]

[when jun gets on the scene things are already, well. bad.

it's about a street away from the dojo, the skies now rolling and grey, winds churning and making staying on your feet a challenge. the road is full of massive cracks all webbing out from where mob is standing, or what only seems to be mob. his aura is so dark it's obscuring his face, eyes wide and purely white, sweater punctured and bloodstained though he doesn't seem to be injured. not any longer, at least.

if he came by early enough he might have seen daniel getting struck down, though maybe he missed that. mob's moved enough that it's possible jun won't have any warning at all, just the intense pressure in the air, the cracks in nearby buildings, how chunks of one go flying into the sky.

the air is full of debris flying around, including bits of broken glass. all in all the entire situation screams danger, it would seem. especially given the closer anyone gets the worse the screaming pressure and winds get.]

[icanhearscreams]

[Jun wouldn't normally head towards the scene of something like this. He's smart enough to know that this means avoid danger. But he saw sensei heading this way and from what he knows the man isn't good at any sort of superpowered thing. Karate can only take you so far in Trench, after all.]

[There's a worried knot in the pit of his stomach, but he pushes forward. If sensei dies he'll be really angry at him -]

[He arrives just in time to see him get knocked out and he lifts his head to look at the figure at the center of this. Is that... ? That's definitely Mob. Shit. He knows the other boy has psychic powers - they must be going haywire somehow. He firmly plants one foot in front of the other as he steps forwards, lifting his voice so that (hopefully?) the older boy can hear him over the wind and pressure.]

Mob? Mob! Shigeo! Whatever's going on, we can talk about this! I know you wouldn't hurt people if you could help it!

for deku | shonen protag on shonen protag violence

[centile]

[it'll be pretty immediately obvious something is very wrong in crenshaw. the sky dark and stormy, the air popping with the pressure of an impending storm, the far more noticeable fact that large chunks of building debris are just floating up into the sky in the distance.

residents are likely already fleeing the area, and anyone stopped might be able to say something's running amok in the area near miyagi-do. maybe a beast, though clearly a particularly destructive one. the pressure gets more intense the closer anyone gets to the central point, where a figure stands in what seems to be the eye of the storm.

there's plenty for deku to worry about, of course. a native trapped under debris, the panic of anyone fleeing, the fact the figure is clearly mob when deku gets close enough to see him properly. his eyes are wide and white, his aura no longer the bright blue-purple deku might have sometimes seen but thick and dark. ]

spoilers for deku's canon point throughout this thread

[wannasmash]

Midoriya regrets missing so many karate classes, but most days he doesn't feel up to social activities in the wake of Bakugou and Uraraka being gone from this world. Still, he lives in Crenshaw. He didn't need to receive a call to notice the walking disaster, even if he wasn't at class today.

Midoriya--in his hero costume as Deku--is surrounded by the sparking energy of One For All as he leaves the rooftop of his apartment complex. The fastest way there is using a combination of super strength and Float to jump into the air. He can leap buildings with a single bound, but he doesn't hurl himself faster than a speeding bullet. He needs to assess what on earth is happening first.

Screams. They draw him like a moth to a flame. They yank all his senses into a single-minded river rushing to their source. Glass litters the streets. Dust kicked up into the air dulls any remaining lunar orbs. There's a great rumble and crash of a structure being torn apart as it rises to the sky, but Midoriya counts his blessings that it isn't disintegrating all it touches.

This isn't Shigaraki, then. He's not powerful enough to take on Shigaraki, probably. His next suspect is a powerful Force user, perhaps Maul, or a Darkblood member of the Blood Crazed Zealots...

Crenshaw is one of the most protected districts, full of families and children, and Prufrock to the north is similarly crawling with Hunters. He pulls a chunk of rubble off a person and shouts directions for locals and Hunters alike to carry the injured west and north. East is the walking disaster, more buildings, and the beginning of the treeline beyond them. Midoriya plants his armored shoes in a solid karate stance (albeit more feral and crouched) and imagines a line behind and between him and the fleeing bystanders. He must not allow anything past him.

"Kageyama--!" he gasps when he recognizes him. "Kage--I mean, MOB-KUN!"

He reveals his position in favor of talking things out with the kind, mild-mannered classmate. Midoriya is looking worse for wear. He has rips in his Hero costume that have yet to be mended, and he is in the late stages of his Corruption. His eyes are white and blank as a dead fish's and ringed with shadows. His teeth are fangs that chafe and cut against his lips. Claws poke out of the ends of his gloves. His voice scrapes in a growl,

"STOP RIGHT NOW! YOU'RE HURTING PEOPLE!"

sunny and robby

[centile]

[after dealing with more than a few issues, people trying to get close, and deku containing the situation somewhat mob ended up only ended up a little bit away from where daniel fell. still walking, though slowly and the intent is unclear.

all that comes through the bond is static still, and the whirling pit of horror and guilt that is mob at the core of it.]

[sunny and robby meet-up]

[strongroots]

[ The world had gone dark, but only in the physical sense.

It had felt like the common use of the phrase when it happened. The body shrouding his, then knocked into him with the sound of impact; the hit to the ground, the weight above him heavier than just a body. Leaning to one side, but Robby doesn't immediately know what.

He's dazed, but not from his fall--he doesn't feel any pain. His protection ensures that, absorbing the damage in on itself. But his mind loses focus, thoughts listening to the white noise of his bond than piecing anything together. This should be it, some part of him is still thinking despite his consciousness: it wasn't long ago Robby had told Sharon he felt like his life was a timer ticking away. It was bound to happen eventually. Everything he fights to oppose goes to shit this way.

Except, now isn't the time to be dramatic.

Because Robby realises, he is conscious; and despite the weight on him, it isn't crushing him. He also realises what some of that weight is, a fear that makes him whisper desperately, "Mister LaRusso? LaRusso, c'mon, can you hear me? Please--", and that fear building in his chest is enough to make him want to act, stunted as he is at first of how to. He doesn't want to shimmy himself free from (Mister LaRusso's body) what's above him, and what he thinks must be the concrete slab above him--he'll hurt what's under it, and he can't do that, no. Can he use the ice band to help? Push the weight off from above? But he's scared, the thought terrifies him: What if he hurts Mister LaRusso? What if he can't do it? What if, what if--

His heart is a vessel turned inside out, and the weight--the body--above him is cold in a way he doesn't like for once, fogging his thoughts. Whispering the man's name does nothing, and every bad reason why is so obvious, so telling. This is worse than death.

But there's another who does speak, a voice unnecessary. Luck, as Mob calls him. Smoke whisked away by the storm, but his presence never leaving.

His omen.

He comes as a presence of stability, thinking where Robby can't. You have to remove the weight. How? Your blood--you believed it was darkblood. So? He can't see where it is, what if he fucks up Mister LaRuss-- No, I will help. Use it as ice. Doing nothing will harm him.

Robby wants to scream, but his teeth are gritted, and he relents against a tantrum that won't help. The omen comes in as a mass of smoke, and shows Robby what he can't turn his head to see for himself: where his hands are, where the stone is; how he needs to use the ice to push it sidewards, rely on that more than whatever the fuck his blood is doing.

(He shows him Mister LaRusso too, parts of him, an unmoving arm still in his gi, and his heart twists every time, tries to throw itself up in his own throat.)

Forcing himself to pull the trigger is what Robby struggles with more than anything about the execution. Mister LaRusso, the futility of this all, he doesn't want to know what happened--but his omen pressures him and he pulls by pushing out. Yells this time as the ice blasts out, throwing out enough debris to lessen the weight. He puts his arms as much around the limb form as he can as he rolls the pair of them, just enough to kick off what's left on Mister LaRusso's back, and then settles the man down. Sees the face he doesn't want to see, eyes closed, mouth slightly ajar.

'Mister LaRusso', he tries again; even goes for a, 'Dad? I'll call you dad, isn't it what you wanted?' between listen for his breathing, but Robby's too rattled know what he does hear and what he wants to.

His omen lingers with them, Robby refusing to budge from the man's unconscious side. But he can function better than his Sleeper and speaks of finding Sensei Toguchi, whoever can help.



And out there is a roaming Mob, a relentless storm of his unbridled energy touching the world. Robby on his knees, Mister LaRusso's still body in front of him.

And Robby doesn't know what to do. ]

the (vaguely eldritch) girls are fighting / a demon helps Robby & Sunny get to ???%

[possessum]

( There's a cacophony swelling louder and louder, and something ancient feels it louder than most might.

The demon king Paimon is a being with chaos in his own spirit — and perhaps in some ways not too dissimilar to the energy that's erupted from the young boy whose eyes glow white. His own, at its core, is a whirlwind of too much. Endless lights and colours and sounds, languages and voices, an amalgamation of razor-sharp whispers and keening wails and splitting roars. To witness it purely may destroy a person, split the seams of a mind wide open, and things would leak out. One has to be... prepared, prepped, to be with him in his pure form. Fortunately, his pure form has been caged within the flesh of a human who was prepped for it. Rarely can it touch someone directly.

But the discord grows (things crumbling, displays of frantic magic, cries of pain, bodies thrown and slammed and hurt, various powers unleashed by others) and the demon's spirit, so sensitive to such things, screams, and lashes out against that human body containing him.

Paimon's glimpsed the power to Mob over time, but this.... is something raw, unfiltered, uncontrollable. So huge, so incredibly immense. Ordinarily, Paimon might meet it better than this, might try to approach it calmly (with his own abilities of the mind and spirit, perhaps he could attempt to soothe the boy on a much deeper level, try to reach him), but the demon's spirit has been warped and maimed, and the raw explosion from Mob sets something off in him, blinding flashes of heat and fury. Peter's body convulses violently, bones worked to their limits with pops and snaps and screaming — the demon tears out with claws unsheathed, his own telekinetic powers sending things in the immediate area slamming and flying away from him.

His energy is still muted in some way (his true spirit still padded within his host's body) but it's loud energy nonetheless, adds more static-buzzing to the area, swelling and oppressive, clashing with the oppressive energy from Shigeo Kageyama that's already overtaking everything. There is no intentional thought, only upset that becomes rage. Like an animal reacting to another wild thing, teeth bared, hackles raised.

He stands several feet away from the boy (the thing that doesn't feel like a boy anymore — what is it really?), eyes wide and livid, alien black with their blown-out pupils. Any debris flying through the air is kept away from his vessel with the demon's own powers, but the unchecked psychic prowess from Mob (not-Mob) is wave after wave of abrasive energy. The demon lets out a yowling scream aimed at the boy walking slowly forwards, his own energy raring back like a snake.

Then, lips peeled back to expose the sharpest parts of his teeth, Paimon begins hissing loudly at him....... )

for sunny | welcome to black space

[centile]

[when sunny does manage to encase mob in white space they both go limp in the real world. a good thing, of course, because the destruction stops, the storm stops, the debris falls and everything is back to normal. or as normal as things can be after that.

in the expanse of white space sunny will wake to a dark tangle, like a jittering ball of loose black thread simply floating there. it expands to something like a figure, wavering like a candle flame before a nearly instant burst of power cracks through the foundations of blank canvas that is this plane. there's only the faintest impression of the entire world collapsing before sunny is opening his eyes again in a place he may have wished never to see again.

🆆🅴🅻🅲🅾🅼🅴 🆃🅾 🅱🅻🅰🅲🅺 🆂🅿🅰🅲🅴

there's a futon, and on that futon is mob. his eyes are closed, looking relatively peaceful in the black void that exists around them. a little white cat sits on his chest, her tail swishing idly when she regards sunny. she gives a small mew, an odd little point of comfort. a single lightbulb still hangs from the ceiling, though the doors aren't exactly like they were last time.

they're in a neat row, each subtly different. they stretch out from left to right, as far as sunny can see.

despite the quiet there's still a sense of pressure, the very distinct feeling of being watched.

[good_mourning]

[There's a burst of relief in Sunny that it had worked. He had gotten them to White Space. That meant that things would be okay out there. It would have stopped.

Whatever he'd expected to see in here, though, it wasn't that dark tangle. He stares at it as it becomes a figure and then- Then it-

It broke through to Black Space.

Sunny's eyes go wide, not even certain how this could have happened. At least they were still in the mental world but Black Space was not the place he'd wanted to be. It's not somewhere he'd ever planned on returning to. He glances around, noticing Mob quickly, along with the little cat laying on him.

Her presences eases his chest. He walks over towards her, leaning down to pet her head.]

Watch over him.

[He knew she could. Sunny... doesn't want to go into those doors. But they weren't his doors, were they? This wasn't his mindscape. He wouldn't see what he'd seen when he'd been here before. And there was still something here. That tangle- that... person?

There was still something he was missing here. Sunny walks up to the closest door, glancing back at Mob and the cat, before he turns the knob and walks through.]

for makima | contracts

[centile]

[mob doesn't remember a lot after waking up.

it's a bit of a blur. maybe he left wherever his body was dragged to, maybe he and sunny were brought back to makima's house. maybe he woke up on the street still, they all seem plausible. whichever it was he doesn't know, doesn't really want to think about. he doesn't really want to think about anything.

(96%)

what he does know is he finds himself heading to makima when he is busy not thinking at all. someone probably took care of him, since he's no longer in the bloodstained sweater torn by beast teeth. at least it was only his blood, though the wound is no longer there. maybe he changed himself, maybe makima took care of it. he doesn't know.

when he finds makima his expression is blank. it could be a normal day, except for how his voice cracks and trembles when he very quietly says,] Miss Makima...

[overlies]

[ she brought them home, when it was over. a funny thing, her timing, and her lack of surprise when she gets there, and how she brought them back, well. . . a large, burly man with a beard carried them for her. unless someone was there to see it happen, she wouldn’t be getting any questions about why demon santa was a friend now. she took them home, cleaned them up, changed their clothes and put them in bed, with one or two of the now seven dogs napping (but attentive) at the heel of the bed(s).

she either got lucky with her summons, or she’s gotten better at using her blood-ridden abilities. which was better . . . anyhow, that isn’t the point. her dogs are the first to canter down the stairs, an immediate sign for her that someone was awake. she continues cutting some dried fruit into perfect cubes for an afternoon snack.

she smells him before seeing him (and even if she did see him, only see him, she wouldn’t really be able to tell the difference between the other boys. it’s pure scent that guides her.) she waits, nevertheless, for his greeting, turns when the movement of feet was apparent enough behind her, and . . .

well, she doesn’t smile at least. her lips remain thin and in a neutral line. ]

Good afternoon, Mob. [ her head cants just a touch to one side, as if question was already bubbling at the back of her throat. ] How are you feeling?

aftermath | open

[centile]

at home.

[when everything is over mob holes up in his room.

miss makima said he should take time for himself, which feels a little cowardly to him, if he's honest. when someone did something wrong they should own up to it, but he's not really sure how to do that. going to each person and asking for forgiveness? trying to help clean up with the same powers that caused the trouble in the first place?

anyone who messages him the first day will get nothing in return, but he may start looking at them the day after. anyone who comes by the first few days may find themselves waiting for some time at the door but, if they wait or persist, they may find mob opening the door, looking blankly at them. if it's one of the people he hurt he'll glance quickly to the ground.]


at crenshaw.

[until the darkblood architects handle matters there is a small section of crenshaw that is a bit of mess. some buildings in ruins, the street cracked, even areas with blood on the ground. it's eerily quiet now, about a day or two after everything happened. unpleasant really.

anyone coming by might find mob there, staring out at it then down at his hand. his expression is completely blank, giving an air of spacing out rather than the fact he's trying to decide if he should try to fix things. he could, maybe, he's done something like that before. it was never consciously though, it was the weight of his guilt set free, trying to fix what he broke with the same powers that broke it.

doing that now seems... dangerous. even with makima to support him he doesn't think it'd be worth the risk of something going wrong, because things went so, so wrong. the evidence was all around.]

a.

[dohaeris]

[of course sansa's first concern was for mob after she heard what had caused the explosion in crenshaw; nothing like this has happened to any of her very good friends since allen died almost a year ago. and she does feel somewhat protective of mob; he's around the age she was when margaery took sansa under her wing in king's landing, and she's determined to make sure none of the younger teens in trench suffer the way that she and her siblings did, or at least not here.

she's not sure what mob's favorite kind of cake is and anyway there's no time to bake; she stops at a nearby bakery vi likes for some cat-shaped mochi in different flavors and a box of plain sweet biscuits (just in case). she takes the nearest lamp to the sanctuary to pick up an even more special surprise. lady does have to track mob down by scent, but soon sansa is knocking at 'miss makima's' door. if anyone tries to send her away, mob may hear her say in no uncertain terms that if mob doesn't wish for company he may tell her so himself. soon it's mob's door she's knocking on, dressed for work with an elaborate chatelaine clipped to the wide leather belt she wears over her charcoal linen dress embroidered with ravens.]

Hallo, Mob, it's Sansa Stark. May I come in? I heard about what happened and I'd very much like to see if you're all right. I've brought a few things along I thought you might like to have with you while you're resting.

[one of them is small and black and purring into her wrist...]

crenshaw

[toteninsel]

[ Assuming Mob isn't spaced out too much, he'll eventually feel a light, spidery tap on his shoulder. If he looks up, he'll find Ariane watching him, her expression set in a serene half-smile. ]

I heard a little about what happened. Sit with me?

[ Ariane won't bother to ask Mob if he's all right. The answer is plainly no. ]

for yoichi

[centile]

[when mob was a little more coherent he started looking into how death worked here. he couldn't get his mind off one thing for very long no matter how much he repressed himself. that beast, the one that attacked him, the blood and metal and pain- he swears he felt something like yoichi there. under corruption so thick it made his head spin was a lifeforce he thinks he knew.

so he goes to yoichi's house to find him not there. he looks into death and tries to figure out what to do. (he killed yoichi, that's a thought that rattles unpleasantly around his head. at the very least he understands there wasn't really a cure for beasthood. it doesn't make him feel much better, but it does stop his heart from breaking.)

eventually he has a very odd experience with the moss king and a barrel. at the very least it's easy to pick yoichi out, that familiar life force even when he's a squid. it means he can end up plucking him up and bringing him back home. makima's house is rather beautiful for a place in the trench, clean and victorian. his bedroom has odd knickknacks and a futon, the very same he ends up putting the squid in, unsure of what he's supposed to do.

did yoichi's squid form need water? should he get a big pot of it? he seemed okay at the moment, so he makes a little next around the squid. it's much better than thinking about anything.

when yoichi does turn back mob will probably be in the room as well, staring listlessly out the window.]

at crenshaw 👀

[overlies]

[ makima liked things tidy. fixed. clean! perfect. it wasn’t in her plans or her own placement of things to keep her pup’s messes out in the open (it was also a small price to pay, considering everything). so, she too was here to help with the effort. her darkblood does the trick, lifting, manipulating size and popping pieces of debris into smaller particles that get carried away with the breeze.

(even though, every once in a while— something felt very, very wrong, and she’d hate the feeling much more)

well, now that one of her most prized pups was here, makima would eventually appear beside him. how and when that happened, it was hard to say. she was just . . . there. and with mob, there would probably always be a lingering feeling that makima was in his orbit. ]

Are you ready?