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deercountry2023-05-05 06:28 pm
likethelight) wrote in deercountry2023-05-05 06:28 pm
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...?
no subject
No, it didn't hurt.
I died here.
The same way it doesn't hurt to hear Allen speak of his end so casually while they stood in a field of blood. His blood. He didn't come from a world of blood and death. He'd never witnessed such horrors before Trench. It was always a fleeting thought, closer to home among heroes, but mostly out of sight. Allen's world isn't a world he understands how to navigate and needs time to reorient himself. Time to rein in his sorrow. As the tears fade and he pulls himself together despite the image of his death firmly branded in his mind, Shouto stills, focusing on Allen's voice that always brought him back. Knowing he was here, alive and breathing, eases some of the heartache, enough to function at least. He nods without looking up, touching upon the bond that felt like Allen on the other side. ]
I'm here too.
1/2
Allen smiles very quietly at that, in a gentle and sad-sweet kind of way, more relieved than he could say, before he gives a nod and leans in to kiss his cheek. The corner of his mouth that he so often likes to kiss and insists isn't him "missing". Lingering in a long and meaningful kind of way where he tries to offer what comfort he can while also taking comfort himself in the way that Shouto steadies himself now. One moment to breathe and collect themselves before moving forward. It isn't fair that it's like that, but they don't have the luxury for more than that right now, and it's part of a guilt that continues to eat at him.
I'm so sorry. I never wanted you to be exposed to this. ]
Let's keep going. [ So they can escape this nightmare and go-- ]
2/2
There's a whispering noise at their feet; in the wood all around them. At first it sounds just like rustling leaves of bamboo, before the entire forest floor seems to rush up around them. Not as leaves on the wind but thousands upon thousands of black, ominous butterflies that rush up in a cloud thick as night. Like death omens themselves, and the sound doesn't come solely from their wings but from the chattering of thousands of tiny crowned skulls they have instead of thoraxes. Teeth snapping together with hisses and clacks, they sound like a rising cacophony of madness as they rise and quickly blot out the sky. Blot out even the moon.
And in the next moment they're biting them too. A dozen tiny lacerations of oddly sharp, tiny human teeth in the blink of an eye. Deep bites not even half a second later, eager not to hurt but to feast. To consume them alive. ]
Shouto-- [ Allen gasps it out, spun around to try and face the hoard seeming to come at them from all angles with first an expression of horror and recognition, and then gritting his teeth while narrowly avoiding a mouthful of carnivorous bug after his tongue. Re-orienting and steeling himself in snap judgment in the same moment as he grounds out the only word he dares: ]
Fire.
no subject
You missed.
[ The memory of that day sparks a pang of awareness that soothes the ache in his chest. He'd remedied Allen's mistake soon after. He does the same here, turning his head to brush their lips together. He doesn't linger, his heart still in disarray. Instead, he presses their temples together, allowing himself a few moments to ease himself into functional status. ]
Thank you.
[ The words of gratitude echo through the bond, the connection stronger than ever. That's probably why he misses the rustling sound coming from the woods. In an instant, they're surrounded by a swarm of chattering teeth that deliver a thousand little bites that nip at their flesh, and in the next, a wave of ice slams against the storm, crashing against the tiny crowned skulls that blot out the moon.
In the midst of the storm, he hears Allen call his name, and he fights against the tempest, creating a barrier of ice that snaps around them, but it does nothing against the denizens already inside. If he were alone, he'd blast them with a blaze of fire, but the arm he clings to staves off that reaction until Allen calls for it.
In combat, there is no room for second guesses.
Shouto hesitates for half a second, and in the next, he encases Allen in a sheet of ice, freezing him from head to toe, before unleashing a fireball that engulfs the whole forest. ]
no subject
Fire isn't safe for him, Allen knows that. Without his Innocence he has no way to guard against it and is entirely a normal human. But the alternative against these man-eating golems in the form of butterflies... unlike with Innocence, Shouto's flame should actually burn them. Or at least, he assumes there's a good chance they will since they always seemed delicate to him, and in his own dream of them that, thankfully, is enough.
Not that he knows that. It was absolutely a calculated gamble.
That said, Allen also wasn't expecting to be frozen solid either. Encapsulated with an almost comically alarmed expression, he can't move or do anything to free himself without his left arm as the fire explodes outward around them. Igniting those black wings like tinder before scattering the cloud in a plume of ash as the fireball rolls out and levels the delicate bamboo around them. Scorches and incinerates the old bloodstains, and cracking and beginning to melt the ice around Allen too.
But the moon doesn't return. As soon as the light of the fire fades it's dark, smothering. And then they're falling through the pitch black. Down and down through what feels into a cavern deep underground. Where below there waits a shallow lake, barely thigh-deep, that'd dotted with and surrounded by freshly broken ruins and marble pillar, like some sort of subterranean water arena or courtyard. ]
no subject
Instincts drive him to reach for the ice first, his control of it fined tuned enough not to harm Allen in the entombment. Fire, he has to think about. Calculate. He could encase an army in ice and walk confidently among them knowing exactly how long he had before frostbite set in. Fire, on the other hand, was unforgiving. One wrong move and he could damage someone permanently. Dream or not, he would never take that chance.
Ice envelopes Allen, and the fire pacifies the horde razing the forest and melting the ice, releasing him from his tomb of ice. Shouto is there to catch him, gently warming him up while ash rains above him. ]
Allen.
[ The bond stirs back to life, carrying his name along the darkness on the other side. ]
Are you--
[ The thread snaps, snipped in two by the sharpest blade that cuts away the light sending them tumbling through the dark into a musty cavern.
Allen!
A sheet of ice forms beneath their feet, creating a platform that careens down into the unknown along with them. Instead of landing in the subterranean water, they glide above it until they come to a stop at the foot of a marble pillar. ]
What is this place?!
[ His mind once again connects with a figure hidden in the dark. ]
no subject
He grips Shouto's arm tight as they do though, like he means to convey something more than he needs him for balance. I'm fine. An answer to the half-asked question. Breathing a little shakily as he continues to warm up and re-orients himself, it's something he thinks he merely thinks aloud to himself as he focuses on that sense of connection and tries to convey that through touch. But it rides that same tether to touch Shouto's mind, with a voice soft but steady, as the ruins reveal themselves.
It looks like perhaps there might have been a recent battle, or maybe an explosion at one point that wrecked the place. Hallways can be seen reaching back further in out of sight, the architecture appearing ancient and ornate, but not abandoned. There are more modern or at least Victorian sconces, railings, and each pillar bears the engraving of a cross on it. Four-pointed in the same manner as the crystal on the back of Allen's hand, but filled out to become a Christian cross instead -- even if this place doesn't look like a church at all. They touch down at the base of one, and Allen steps off the ice to stare at the broken arena around them, stunned and a touch apprehensive.
Shouto's voice and the alarm in it snaps him back out of it, and he shakes his head for a moment as if to clear it as he looks back at him. The wounds from the butterflies are still with them, but Allen is used to bearing such things without complaint until there's time to actually deal with them later. None of blood is flowing alarmingly fast, nothing life threatening, so it gets shelved back somewhere where he can try and shut off the pain.
It stains his clothing though. Something that had shifted from the pajamas he'd been wearing in their house after they left it to a plain off-white uniform that looks like it belongs to some form of Chinese martial art, and it's lightly tattered now from where the butterflies tore in with their thimble-sized mouths. ]
It's... the Asia branch of the Order. [ The organization he once belonged to, the Exorcists. One of the branches at least. Allen sounds uneasy though, pale eyes shifting around to take in the silence of the place in the dim light. There's nothing there of course, the water is placid.
But there is the sense of something watching back. Waiting, but not yet hostile. ]
This is where I got it back, my Innocence.
no subject
The ruins splayed out before them come secondary, taking him a moment to comprehend what he's seeing. A structure in ruin. Signs of the cross catch his eye, recognizing the familiar design of the crystal embedded in Allen's hand. Was this place a church? He's seen so few in his life, he can't be sure, not that it matters. His initial trepidation settles, realizing there is meaning here; even if he can't grasp it, he knows Allen does.
He steps to his side, locating him by the delicate tether that connects them. In the dim light, he can't see the wounds he's sustained yet, and his focus shifts to the ruins they landed in when Allen starts to speak.
The Order. An organization of Exorcists Allen was once a part of. Was this Branch hunting him too? Or were they too busy with the war? The one he lost his teacher to recently. Shouto takes his hand in his, affection flowing through the bond, and a touch of sympathy. He looks around the extravagant structure with its marble pillars and great hallways that reminded him of Western architecture. Was this where he lost him? General Cross? Or was this another casualty of that war?
His thoughts still at the answer to his unuttered question, and he squeezes his hand firmly, conviction flooding the bond. ]
What happened?
no subject
Misunderstandings and appropriations like that are the building blocks of this organization as much as the marble they're standing on, after all. ]
There was a battle. An invasion. [ Allen says it softly, ever so seemingly calm still, even if his attention swings fully back to Shouto. That feeling...? It's not him, so-- I really can feel you through this bond too.
He takes a moment to thread their fingers together, expression softening slightly. ]
What should be several years ago now I think.
[ Relative to him at least. ]
no subject
Was it a casualty of war?
no subject
But it was me they were looking for.
[ Allen glances back to Shouto then, gentle and very calmly matter-of-fact. A pillar in his own right, even lacking his arm and ability to fight, and one who holds his hand gently. Keeping his gaze to try and measure Shouto's reaction very carefully. ]
It wasn't destroyed though, just damaged. It's supposed to still be full of people and life.
[ Not this. This is a haunting, foreboding sort of... presence. Like an omen. ]
no subject
You've been at war for several years.
[ He states quietly, expression shifting to something more subdued as uneasiness turns to turmoil, and dread starts to creep at the edge of his thoughts. ]
Is that how long you've been hunted for?
no subject
After all, Allen remembers none of what happens when Nea takes over his body. ]
N-no... [ He blinks, offers a nervous grin, and grips Shouto's hand a little tighter as if trying to offer him what comfort he can that way. ]
The war is centuries old. Though... it had only gotten worse again more recently I think.
[ Something that existed long before him, and probably will long after. He stopped believing he would see the end of it, and only hopes that the impact he's had might inspire others who will see it over. ]
no subject
The torrent of emotions recedes as quickly as they arrive, making way for the overwhelming feeling of concern. Very gently, he touches his cheek where thin scratches mar his skin. His eyes shift to his hand where blood paints a trail down his arm. ]
You're hurt.
no subject
Mm, by the Tease... the butterflies. You were too. [ I'm sorry.
Though his own don't seem to be anything that bothers Allen that much; in fact such injuries seem to barely register and get worn as normally as his clothes. His eyes flicker with sympathy though, and he lets go finally only so he can bring his hand up like he means to touch the scratches on Shouto too -- but he doesn't quite, as he realizes it would just smear his own blood there from where it had dripped down his arm.
He lingers, conflicted and hating how he only has the one hand. ]
We were fortunate that your ability can work against them. [ Otherwise, they certainly would have died.
Because unfortunately, for most enemies in Allen's world there is nothing that normal fire and ice could do to them. At least not for long. They're made of and empowered by substances that belong to a different reality, a different set of rules. ]
no subject
We were fortunate.
[ He corrects and regards Allen with a quiet expression that softens around the eyes when he sees him hesitate. ]
Let me wrap it.
[ He intercedes, taking his bloody hand in his, smearing red on his fingers and palm. He pays no heed to it, and opens the top of a metal canister strapped to his hero costume, and silently gets to work, cleaning the blood, while a soundless hymn echoes in his mind. ]
Tell me about the war. About your Innoncence.
no subject
It's strange like that. How very real it is, real enough he wonders if blood is still a threat to them, and yet so very not as well. ]
...every time I think I've understood something about it, I think I just understand it less.
[ It's the very soft-spoken answer he gives finally, after a long and quiet pause. There used to be very simple summations he would give when explaining it to people who didn't know, and most people in his world weren't aware, but looking back on them now...
It's like I only had the understanding of a child, and only more recently understand I still do. ]
Two sides of something most of us can't even comprehend that have hated each other for centuries, and humanity gets caught in the middle. That's what it feels like. One side that hates what humans are and wants to remake the world without them, the Noah who are still human too, and the other that uses them to fight that. Innocence.
Except, even if fighting against a side that so clearly wants to commit a genocide... it doesn't feel like they're in the right either. Bloodthirsty and using humans as tools, where they don't care of they die and will kill them when it's convenient too.
[ It feels so strange, to talk about it here in this place. All the things that were buried deep in the back of his mind, first because there was no one he dared discuss them with as they were all players in that war and thus endangered by it, and then because he stopped thinking about his Innocence or even Nea much after being pulled from that world and his body relatively stabilizing to the point where neither were a routine problem.
But that doesn't mean anything changed, either. ]
That's what you saw before. The living Innocence that took Crown Clown.
no subject
Two sides. One who hates humanity, and the other who... likes them? One side wants genocide. The Noah. And the other who fights against annihilation. The Innocence. The source of Allen's power.
He burns the cotton pad drenched with blood in his left hand to stopper the blood corruption at the source. Even if he doesn't need to in this place of hope and dreams, it's a habit he's formed here.
Moving helps him think, and he ponders his explanation in silence. Raising heterochromic eyes, different like night and day, to him. ]
Before?
no subject
It's frustrating. Frustrating without having any recourse. And that's why he hasn't pursued it. It's just how Allen is, how he operates: if you truly, legitimately can't do anything about something, you shouldn't get worked up about it.
So he meets Shouto's gaze gently, calmly. Giving a slight nod, and as soon as he's done with his hand he'll reach for a clean cotton pad as well. So he can clean Shouto's face gently too. ]
In the forest. [ That priest who was wasn't a priest at all not half an hour ago he hadn't been able to burn. It's not like he's ever lost his arm around him before, you know? ]
no subject
Was that a Noah?
[ He asks, burning another cotton pad. He'll do the same for Allen's, opening his left palm to take the blood-drenched pad from him for disposal without a word. ]
Did he attack you because you're Innocence?
[ Not "your" but "you're". A subtle difference easily misconstrued in speech. ]
no subject
You think it was as simple as an enemy encounter still? ]
No... [ Hesitating, he shakes his head and lets the cotton pad drop into his palm, listening to the sound of it incinerate against the silent backdrop and quiet drip of water in the cavern more than he watches it. ]
That was living Innocence.
no subject
Why is living Innocence after you?
no subject
But Allen gets a little quiet at that question, eyes dropping down somewhere between them as he seems deep in thought. A little uneasy, a little fidgety, and there's a guilty sort of heavyness in how his eyes hood. Debating, conflicted--
But also unsure. ]
Before, in my world... it wanted to merge with me-- with Crown Clown. [ He reaches to take another cotton pad, needing the physical distraction, needing something to help keep him grounded, and begins to dab lightly at blood stemming from a nick on Shouto's neck. ]
Doing so would destroy the other thing inside of me it said. It would destroy Nea.
[ He says it so softly, so openly, that it masks the sheer dread and panic that batters around in his chest to mention that name out loud around Shouto. One calm sliver away from panic. ]
But it's also what killed my master. [ His tone hardens, stern as he dabs at the blood with a sense of conviction instead of hesitation. ] And Timcanpy. And a friend of mine, who tried to help me escape even if it meant giving up everything he'd believed in.
[ So I absolutely will never merge with that thing is left unsaid, but the disgust and resolution is written on his face and in his tone. A bluntness in how he speaks that he doesn't normally have. Anger and conviction, frustration, grief, but ones that have long hardened and had time to form into a sense of purpose. And to keep fighting at all costs.
Mostly because he's never had the luxury of being able to let himself break down and feel them all in their fullest, and resists that at his core. It's a survival reflex. A necessity of his world. ]
But I don't know. This time, in this place... it's different. [ Voice softening again, he pulls back. Letting the cotton pad drop into Shouto's hand the moment he opens it to incinerate it, but Allen's expression is a little lost again then. ]
This time, Nea is already gone.
no subject
Why do you look like that?
Concern bleeds through the bond in tumultuous waves. The last time Allen spoke of his Innocence in-depth, they were trapped in a cursed book that gave him a taste of his world. Is it hard for you to talk about? Is that why you won't look at me? He regards him in silence, feeling completely out of his depth, yet it's this familiar constant that grounds him. He listens in silence, letting him speak without interruption, adding what he says to what he already knows about his Innocence. ]
This isn't the first time we've faced a nightmare together. Or the first time you've spoken about your Innocence. Or Nea. I met him, remember? [ He eyes him quietly, giving Allen time to recall that incident, while he delicately touches his cheek, tracing a trail up his jawline. ] I know he's a part of you... was a part of you.
[ He reminds him, letting his index finger skim over the white stone of his earring, strengthening the bond momentarily, filling it with a deep sense of acceptance that's gone the moment the contact is lost. ]
The priest in the woods. That was Living Innocence. [ He tries to put together what he knows to figure out what he's missing. ] You said, before, that it can take human form. That it wants to merge with your Innocence. Is that why it chased you in the woods?
[ To merge with it? That makes sense. ]
If it gets what it wants, it'll destroy Nea, right? The 'other thing inside you'? [ He looks at him. Bit by bit, the puzzle pieces begin to form a picture. ] A Noah. The other faction that wants to annihilate humanity.
Nea didn't like Innocence. He said, "Opposites aren't meant to mix". If that was true, why did he, a Noah, choose you, who was born with Innocence?
no subject
But "opposites aren't meant to mix" — it's the first time Allen's heard it and it registers in the surprise on Allen's face. His chin jerks up lightly, blinking, and at first he doesn't answer. Not for coaching any answer, but... ]
I don't know. [ He bites his lip lightly, expression transparent and briefly fragile, but shakes his head then. ]
Master said it was probably a matter of convenience. That it was because I happened to be there.
[ Allen leans forward then, red and white hair meshing together as he lets his forehead press against Shouto's. Troubled still maybe, but calm too, and focusing instead on forging that gentle but strong sense of connection. Craning into it as he reaches for his hand.
Sorry. I wish I had better answers. ]
But I don't know.
(no subject)