⛧ Aʟʟᴇɴ "ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴘʀɪᴇsᴛ" Wᴀʟᴋᴇʀ ★ (
likethelight) wrote in
deercountry2023-05-05 06:28 pm
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Entry tags:
And even though she's dreaming
Who: Allen Walker and Shouto Todoroki
What: In seeking to understand himself better, Allen's still-persisting doubts and fears about the nature of his power manifest in nightmares that, for Palebloods who can walk in dreams with others... isn't guaranteed to stay a problem you can keep to yourself forever.
When: End of April
Where: the nightmare fuel place inside Allen's head 🙃
Content Warnings: The general existential and some minor body horror that surrounds Allen, being hunted, discussion of child soldiers, child abuse, religious zealotry, parasitic entities, etc.
[ Upon waking, it feels just like that -- waking. Even if it would be more accurate to say it's actually like falling asleep deeper, straight down through the depths of consciousness until you come out the other side. Where you know your mind is awake and alert, your thoughts conscious, but the world around you...
...it isn't quite right.
When Shouto feels his consciousness drift and steps from one dream to the next, one of the first things he might notice is how the pale bloodstone band on his ear thrums with a heavy resonance in a way it never has before. Reactive and -- perhaps seeking? Like the world around him has made it come alive, or it makes the world alive. It quickly calms to a whisper, and then the world comes into focus.
It's dark. A forest at night. Nondescript; it seems like it could be anywhere, perhaps even the Trenchwood. Quiet, which wouldn't seem ominous until you suddenly realize there should still be some sort of sound of life, of at least the wind in the leaves, yet there is nothing. And then-- a flash of white streaking past him like a rabbit being pursued. No warning, no sound of the brush being broken and pushed through. ]
Shouto--?! [ It's a bit of a startled squawk, head snapping around as Allen leaps past him before realizing that someone's there, and who it is. With eyes that are entirely lucid and clear, and not caught in any kind of hazy dream unreality. He comes to a quick skidded stop on his heel, the picture as he ever is in Trench, save for one detail.
The left arm, dragging behind him not as an arm but as a mutated sort of wing. Glowing white and shedding feathers as his invocation does, but not in any form it's ever taken. Not the polished and delicately wrought form Crown Clown is supposed to take, but something that seems frantic and unlike himself. Entirely mutant and otherworldly, feathers squirming where there was probably once fingers, without reflecting any of Allen himself.
But aside from bracing it with his good hand it doesn't seem to be bothering him, and he's just staring at Shouto like of all things, somehow his being here is the strangest?
Yet the air seems to be slowly pressing down further on the both of them. Oppressive; unnatural. Like the night itself is what's actually dangerous. ]
Why are you here...?
What: In seeking to understand himself better, Allen's still-persisting doubts and fears about the nature of his power manifest in nightmares that, for Palebloods who can walk in dreams with others... isn't guaranteed to stay a problem you can keep to yourself forever.
When: End of April
Where: the nightmare fuel place inside Allen's head 🙃
Content Warnings: The general existential and some minor body horror that surrounds Allen, being hunted, discussion of child soldiers, child abuse, religious zealotry, parasitic entities, etc.
...it isn't quite right.
When Shouto feels his consciousness drift and steps from one dream to the next, one of the first things he might notice is how the pale bloodstone band on his ear thrums with a heavy resonance in a way it never has before. Reactive and -- perhaps seeking? Like the world around him has made it come alive, or it makes the world alive. It quickly calms to a whisper, and then the world comes into focus.
It's dark. A forest at night. Nondescript; it seems like it could be anywhere, perhaps even the Trenchwood. Quiet, which wouldn't seem ominous until you suddenly realize there should still be some sort of sound of life, of at least the wind in the leaves, yet there is nothing. And then-- a flash of white streaking past him like a rabbit being pursued. No warning, no sound of the brush being broken and pushed through. ]
Shouto--?! [ It's a bit of a startled squawk, head snapping around as Allen leaps past him before realizing that someone's there, and who it is. With eyes that are entirely lucid and clear, and not caught in any kind of hazy dream unreality. He comes to a quick skidded stop on his heel, the picture as he ever is in Trench, save for one detail.
The left arm, dragging behind him not as an arm but as a mutated sort of wing. Glowing white and shedding feathers as his invocation does, but not in any form it's ever taken. Not the polished and delicately wrought form Crown Clown is supposed to take, but something that seems frantic and unlike himself. Entirely mutant and otherworldly, feathers squirming where there was probably once fingers, without reflecting any of Allen himself.
But aside from bracing it with his good hand it doesn't seem to be bothering him, and he's just staring at Shouto like of all things, somehow his being here is the strangest?
Yet the air seems to be slowly pressing down further on the both of them. Oppressive; unnatural. Like the night itself is what's actually dangerous. ]
Why are you here...?
1/2
It's the casual killing aura. The contempt for humans, maneuvering and using them as sacrificial pawns for its own mysterious gains-- and realizing that thing is the same as the weapon he was born with. The thing he'd already labeled himself a monster for. Not even because of his own appearance--
But because of the delicate and kind person he murdered with it.
Something can look fully human and be a monster-- and something can look monstrous and be the most human of all.
His head snaps briefly to Shouto in confusion and a bit of a pained look at that accusation, but there's no time to respond. It grabs his throat and he can't breath, only able to kick weakly and grab at that hand with his single functional one. Not a killing blow, at least not an immediate one, just enough to crush his windpipe and cause him to begin to black out. Be too weak to fight back and keep trying to escape.
It doesn't want Allen to die, after all. Allen is precious. Crown Clown worries for him too.
No, it deflects Shouto's attempt at an attack with wings that seem entirely impervious to an attack of that nature and dispatches him in the same move with callous disregard. Its attention turning fully on Allen before Shouto's body has even finished dropping as he kicks with a silent scream he can't get the air for. Twisting his body with a force he shouldn't be able to as slams his foot into the side of its head. Again and again even with his vision going dark and tears blurring his eyes.
"Allen..."
The voice is softer, raspy in this form but unnervingly loving. Something even Shouto could still hear in the void of the dream as his consciousness bleeds away. "Why do you keep running?"
It strokes his face with a bloodied hand, leaning in close enough the smell of ozone mixes with the coppery scent.
"We're one, you and I."
With that it reaches and grabs the twisting feathered mess of his left arm -- and pulls. Drawing the form of it out like some kind of grotesque inhuman putty as it stretches beyond any human limit, burning bright as the moon, and Allen contorts with a thin and airless scream. There's a rip. The snap of something breaking --
And then the world goes dark. ]