deercountry | catch & release

Entry tags:

manabu yuuki: elle

catch & release

Who: Ryunosuke & Manabu
What: Return & recover
When: Early Nov
Where: A lantern in Willful Machine

Content Warnings: Death & body horror mentions, specifically body mutation/morphing

Reorienting in a disorienting place is a process. Manabu knows this, but it's not going to temper his impatience with himself; his thirst for independence, for the ability to rely on himself so others can rely on him, is very strong. Of course, he can't just let himself become a liability either, so he tries to behave until he's more confident in his stride.

And it's not so bad, right? For a change of scenery, he can use a lantern and not worry about wearing himself out.

It's what he's chosen to do this afternoon, taking himself away from his check-in with Mako and Wu to start picking up some stuff for himself on his own terms. Those guys are tremendous friends and help, but a man has to be able to pick out his own jackets, right? Right. And he'll be safe to wander this district full of people, right? Right.

Anyway, he apparates in a swirl of dark smoke as the lantern ghouls shift him from one place to another and all but directly on top of the person kneeling down to inspect said ghouls.

"D'AUGH-!!"

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He leads him off the dock back onto much more solid ground, still holding onto him pretty tight. He stops after they're settled on the street, slowly releasing his grip from his waist as he seems to find his footing once more. Ryunosuke still holds his hand, just in case he starts to lean or fall again. He doesn't want to take a chance with him collapsing to the ground.

"Every few hours? Do you know why?" Was he sick? He would hate for him to be out in this cold if he was.

This time around, Manabu's not quick to disengage, instead just trying to focus his attention on his surroundings more sharply now that his senses feel a bit back in order.

"I think it's--something to do with...with coming back." He doesn't meet Ryunosuke's eye when he says it. "You remember how...weird it felt at first, right? Washing up."

"Yes." He does remember the sensation of washing up on the shore.

It was... nothing he's ever experienced. Nothing he could reasonably describe without coming off tongue-tied. It was surreal, unnatural, and he shudders just thinking about it. He squeezes Manabu's hand, a knowing look in his expression.

"You didn't come back that long ago." He says, still feeling strange to talk about his death in such a cavalier way. "Maybe it just takes time to recover from something like that."

"It's faster than you mi-might think," he mutters, starting to move forward, to put some distance between himself, the lantern, and the dock he almost ate shit in. Only in motion does he acknowledge the tether and let his hand fall slack to be freed should Ryunosuke mean to.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks, carefully releasing Manabu's hand as he follows after him. "It's all right if you don't want to."

He's not going to push him to talk about his death and subsequent revival. It must be difficult, something that causes the mind to reel and the body to react to such a memory. Ryunosuke is hoping he never learns what that is like, but after what he's seen so far in Trench, death might not be as easy to avoid as he thinks.

Does he? Man, Manabu doesn't know...sometimes it feels like he oscillates between the need to scream and the desperation to hole up somewhere. Emotional talk is not a strength he's developed, since he's grown up with the idea that such things - deaths, funerals, parties, graduations - aren't for the everyday. They're designated moments.

"In the nightmare you got dea-death flu," he says eventually, his eyes on the windows of the shops they pass, looking for something with clothes. "Like...two weeks of shaking and, and nausea and just feeling like garbage."

Ah, here's one.

"Can't really tell if it's the same now. I'm always cold."

There's a little bell over the door that tinkles as he opens it up and heads in.

"Doesn't sound pleasant."

He's pretty sure it's not meant to be. Death-flu sounded like something of a plague, but at least it sounded like it was isolated to when one dies. Two weeks of shaking and nausea didn't sound too bad but he's sure it was much worse than that. Which made him wonder if Manabu has died before in the dream. He wasn't going to ask, not yet. Not when he was hoping Manabu would open up on his own terms.

"Well, hopefully, we'll find something that will be able to keep us warm." He says as he follows him into the shop. "Maybe a nice coat will help."

Death flu is easier to talk about than the ghost he found raging at him along the bank of the river he died at, honestly.

"If I can swing it, yeah." But this place doesn't operate on money. It's weird having a bunch of seashells and stuff burning a hole in his satchel and not, like...actual currency.

He nods politely to the shopkeep before navigating himself to what looks like a fair amount of cloaks and jackets, fidgeting with the strap of his satchel as he goes.

"It's...it's weird. Back there, we had to...to just take stuff. Because the people were already...too far gone to interact with."

By the time Manabu had found himself in Deerington, many of its residents had begun to fade, glitching and crumbling into horrifying, distorted shadows of a lived-in town. He never knew what they were like to interact with as people, not the way the folks who had a longer tenure did.

They were always scary.

Here, though...people are...people. Just...denizens of another planet, trying to live their lives. Is it comforting? Is it disconcerting? Depends on the moment, really.

He follows in suit, nodding to the shopkeep as he follows Manabu through the shop. There's plenty of clothing around, but he's pretty certain that he needs something warmer than the cloak and jacket he's wearing now. He starts to look through the jackets, gauging sizes and fabric to the best of his ability. He's not too keen on shopping but he knows it needs to be done.

"Really? You just took things?" He asks, keeping his voice low. The last thing either of them needs is the shopkeep kicking them out because they thought they would steal. "What happened to the people?"

It was interesting hearing about the Dream World compared to what they were in now. All he's known is Trench and its horrors, so learning about something different would keep him on his toes, at least so he thinks. Maybe some of the lessons learned from the Dream would aid them here.

"What do you mean by 'too far gone'?" He asks, following up his first question relatively quickly.

Ryunosuke's far more sharp right now than Manabu is as far as openly talking about property theft is concerned, and they're likely better off for it. In the meanwhile, Manabu's just picking at the sleeves of what coats are out in a show of not being super particular or knowledgeable about style over function; the guy was just fine with standard-issue uniforms, but that ship has long since sailed.

As for too far gone...

"They weren't...really real, I guess," he replies, frowning as he reflects on it. "Just...people made up by the girl...like the rest of the tow-town.

"When I was there, they...their faces were...all wrong. And they'd...they had no purpose or direction. They'd just...walk until they hit something or, or fell over." He shivers. "Like a, a-a broken simmel-ss-simulation."

Part of why it's easier to take this place as real - people here are...people.

"That sounds horrifying." He frowns.

He can only imagine what kind of life that would lead, being unable to talk to the local people as they behaved oddly. Oddly wasn't even the right word, they were behaving wrong, unlike anything he could fathom and yet Manabu lived it. He lived through this sort of nightmare where things were just on that side of wrong. He sighs, pulling down a long charcoal coat to get a better look at it.

"How do you live like that?" It baffled him. How did everyone who went through the Dream survive? Was anything real or was it a collective nightmare of nothing?

The only solace he got from this was that the people here were real and actually responded when spoken to.

Manabu drifts along, not really taken by any particular item, almost forgetting why he's even here. Instead, he's thinking about Deerington and Ryunosuke's questions.

"Moment by moment," he says eventually. "There was...really no choice but to keep living, even when...even if you died. You'd come back. And keep going."

He slows in front of a full-length mirror, staring for a beat before he realizes it's actually him. It's been a while since he'd stared at himself for any length of time in any meaningful way; his gaze drifts down from the worn state of his clothes to the starkly white, empty sclera of his right eye and the little marks around it, to the faint scarring along his cheeks where nails had dug in...

"And some of that stuff's come along with me," he murmurs, bringing a hand to his face. "And other people, too...

"But not all of it. And not...not everyone."

As far as shopping company goes, Manabu wouldn't rank high on a good day, and that's before he'd become so haunted by all that's sunk its claws in him. Despite best efforts, he'd changed; yet despite those changes, he's...still him, somehow. It's a strange thought to try and reconcile with, and he's not sure if he knows how.

So he gets a little lost there, reacquainting himself with his own reflection, seemingly forgetting where he even is or any conversation.

Moment by moment. Day by day. That's how he's been taking his time in Trench and it wasn't necessarily a bad way to live but it wasn't ideal. He actually had a future to look forward to, yet what sort of future did he have here? He listens to Manabu, lifting his gaze from the coat to watch him as he wanders over to the full-length mirror.

Some things came back with him, and it dawns on him what he means as he brings his hand to his face. He always wondered about his eye, curious enough to speculate but not enough to ask. He unconsciously touches his own face, wondering idly how he could live after something so traumatic. Could he pick himself up and move forward? Would he still resemble himself at all?

He doesn't interrupt him at first, doesn't say anything at first, allowing Manabu time to reacquaint himself. It seemed like he needed it. He finds another dark coat, one that might fit Manabu, and carefully approaches him.

"Here." He says quietly, offering the coat to him. "Try this."

“Eh-?”

Manabu is shaken out of the spell of his own spiraling thoughts by Ryunosuke’s offer. He blinks and does something of a double take, looking from coat to man and back before the ask connects.

“Oh— ah, mm. Ye-yeah. Thanks.”

He reaches for, and then hesitates, remembering to take off his own coat beforehand.

“Ss…sorry about that,” he murmurs, accepting the coat. “I don’t mean to, ah…be a, a downer. I guess.”

"You're not being a downer." He smiles gently, offering his arm to take the coat that he currently wears. "I think you need to talk through this, whether you know it or not."

And Ryunosuke was willing to listen, especially if it meant that he could process the information. There were a lot of things to process from the sounds of it, and while he wouldn't push for all of it, he'd nudge him to continue talking if he was willing.

"You came back with scars." He continues, looking him over in the mirror. "Physical and mental ones." It wasn't a question, it was obvious with how he talked about the Dream and how he avoided talking about his death.

What could he possibly do to help alleviate some of this pain and suffering? Was there anything he could do? This wasn't like anything he was used to, knowing full well he kept a lot of his own emotions close to his chest when it came to anything important.

"You're not alone, Manabu... and I'll be here to listen when you need it."

Manabu grimaces a little at being so easily tagged, ducking his head to busy with buttoning up the jacket. It’s a bit loose, which probably shouldn’t surprise him considering his height…

“I-I know I’m not,” he says, fumbling with one button. “But it’s— you really shouldn’t— grrh! I mean—“

In a little flash of frustration, he just gives up, tugging the jacket off. He huffs, opting to stopping entirely to focus on talking, carefully and slowly.

“What I mean is…you’re…you didn’t get messed up with that. I don’t want to mess you up.”

He nearly reaches out to help Manabu with the offending button, but he figures that might be a step too far. His frustration clearly showing and Ryunosuke just shakes his head.

"I don't think you will." He offers him back his jacket. "I know it's difficult, carrying that weight. I have my own baggage. It's different, and not as heavy, but it's still there and something I need to process." He says with relative calm. "You need a healthy outlet to process what's happened."

Something more than just bottling it up and letting it rot from the inside.

And yes, he's a defence attorney, not a psychologist. He won't know the right things to say to help him cope, but he could be someone Manabu could rely on.

"I hope I'm not overstepping here," He realizes he might be. "But I'm happy to be someone you can talk to if you're willing."

The kinder Ryunosuke is, the more Manabu feels the compulsion to recoil - not because he's kind, but because he's compelled to be extra-kind to Manabu. Like he needs it.

He does, but...that really isn't the point his pride wants to make.

"That's...no-not really the impression I wanna leave," Manabu admits, his mouth tugging feebly on one side before he turns away, moving past the mirror with his own jacket bundled in his arms.

"That's not--" He sighs. "I'm trying to say that I'll be your friend, Manabu."

Because really he likes Manabu. He's been kind to him, generous enough to help him navigate through Trench when he was still alone. He's only met a handful of people but so far, but nothing that he could consider long-lasting just yet. Manabu just happens to be one of the few people he's been able to talk to on a consistent basis despite the fact they've only literally run into each other.

"You don't give off that sort of impression." He adds. "I just don't see the point in not being honest."

Considering his resolve to find the truth in his court cases, it's not surprising that he would rather be honest with his friends.

For a moment, Manabu can feel his face go hot at the sound of the exasperation and the very clear-cut explanation. It comes and goes, because coldblood doesn't let an uncomfortable feeling like that linger properly.

With his back to Ryunosuke, he rubs at the back of his neck, shoulders drawn up in an obvious show of self-consciousness and shame. He's...acting an awful lot like James or Bruce would, huh?

Just less profanity or threats to hit someone.

...So maybe not an awful lot like them.

...He...really doesn't have an even balance of influential people in his life, does he?

"Aa, ye-yeah..." Manabu sighs. "Sorry. I think I just--mm." He clams up, unsure as to whether or not whatever stream-of-conscious spaghetti that can pour out without filter is really the right answer, so he stops to actually think about what he thinks.

"I think...I need to be in better shape...to be a good friend." His head bobs a little, finding that fairly agreeable to say.

"That's fair, though I don't think you need to worry about being a good friend. You've already been one." He points out.

Considering all the things Manabu has done so far for him? Ryunosuke can't imagine why Manabu thinks he's been anything but a good friend. It was still new, still fresh, certainly, but he's never done anything to imply he wasn't able to be called Friend. Time would tell, and it sounds like he needed some time to process his own emotions.

Ryunosuke is patient, and he was willing to put in the effort into this new relationship. Hopefully, Manabu would see that he's a worthwhile friend.

True enough: Building bridges with more lasting foundations takes time, no matter how sturdy the starting point is.

And no matter Manabu's state of mind, up or down, he's never one to take praise up front so easily, so ducking that assurance is almost like climbing into a comfortable sweater, moving back into familiar paces of conversation as he nabs a different coat.

"N-no more than anyone else would," he utters hastily, tugging his arm through a sleeve...stretching his arm as far as he can to discover...there's just endless sleeve. Why are these things made so large. Maybe he's better off just pinning sleeves back at this point...

"You took the time to help me understand this technology better. I think that counts for something." He says with a small smile.

He steps away from the mirror, trying not to hover over Manabu. He moves back over to where he started and pulls another coat down to give it a once over. It looked warm, comfortable, and both of these things were desperately needed. He removes his cloak, drawing the coat over the suit jacket of his school uniform. He buttons it up, stretching his arms over his head to see how it moved before he's stripping it off again and replacing it back on the hanger.

Ryunosuke looks back over to Manabu and watches as he tries to pull the sleeves down over his hands, bunching up the fabric.

"I wonder if they are able to alter it." Or if they could find someone to alter it for them.

As if on cue, the shopkeep makes their appearance and introduces themselves to the both of them. A sequence of back-and-forth follows, with an offer to tailor any of the many coats out on the floor. Manabu's a bit lost in this kind of thing without Wu, so Ryunosuke being an additional friendly presence is a boon he really does need to rely on to not let things peter out due to his own awkward cadence.

One smash cut and an exchange of some random knick-knacks later and Manabu finds himself in possession of a much warmer, durable coat that suits the landscape of Trench much better. He could've done without the repeated assurance that the surface will repel not just sleet and snow, but blood...though he supposes he'll appreciate that later.

Outside of the shop, Manabu glances over the bridge of his nose toward Ryunosuke.

"Thanks for the help. I, I appreciate it."

He really isn't certain how he feels about a coat that can repel blood, the thought making his stomach turn. He asks a few questions about the durability in the winter and is mostly satisfied with the answers. It's nice to know that they took some pride in their work and the quality wasn't lacking, at least as far as he can tell. He's not necessarily the best judge of things like this.

He folds his school uniform jacket and shoves it into his bag before he draws on the heavier coat that was recommended to him. He follows Manabu outside of the shop, slinging his bag back over his shoulders thankful for the extra wramth.

It really was better than what he was wearing before.

"Don't mention it." He smiles at Manabu. "It looks good on you. Let's hope that they keep us warm."

catch & release

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