november catch-all

[grice]

who: falco and some others!
what: event tls, wandering & ghost talks.
when: november!
where: various!

content warnings: talk of possession of a minor, violence, corruption of minors, cannibalism, mentions of torture & mutilation of a minor, mentions of child soldiers and gore. will add more as they come!


if you want to plot or play something out, hmu either on falco’s plotting comment or liberos!

Comments

[grice]

I know— I know, we will! [ it’s a baseless promise— but it’s what he believed he could do. what they could do. ] We need to try and stay calm. I know that’s hard to say!

[ he can feel luca trying to wiggle out of his hold, so falco adjusts it: close to the middle of his arms. ]

But If we want to get out of here . . . We need to go up. [ there weren’t any side hallways, and going down would be like digging deeper. falco’s hands drop and grips his wrists and fingers. ] I’ll be with you.

[schoolingfish]

[Falco's words help calm him. He's still terrified, of course, but being able to convince himself that Falco, at least, has some sort of plan is enough to get him to stop struggling. When Falco takes his hand, Luca squeezes back, both to reassure Falco that he's okay now (even though he really isn't, but he's at least better than he was a few moments ago) and to reassure himself.]

Okay...okay. I guess...lead the way.

[He decides to focus on just walking with Falco and going up the stairs.]

I don't know how you're staying so calm.

[grice]

[ it was a step up even if they’ve taken a couple back at first (and may tumble back more the more they see), and falco, with a nod, takes the reassurance from the boy and brings his hand back to his side. he was feeling uneasy, but . . . the other flight of states was dark and looming above their heads as they crept closer to the first step.

why was he so calm? the truth was as ugly as the result. falco wasn’t exactly flatlined into tranquil or insensitive, of course— but he was maintaining a certain amount of levelheadedness to make decisions under pressure. the same kind of pressure to expect when bombs are flying, dirt and metal is flinging all over the place and what he has to do if he’s got a rifle in his hands. ]

I’m scared, [ he confesses, even if he may not look it completely, ] but I’m from a place where you learn how to think— even if you’re scared.

[schoolingfish]

Where I'm from, I was taught if there was something dangerous to just run and hide until the danger passed.

[Something he can't really do here, because if he did that, he'd be trapped forever. Swimming away and hiding in a cave only works if he's already somewhere he's supposed to be, somewhere that will return to being safe. At least now, though, he's managing, walking beside Falco, taking his lead.]

[grice]

That’s not wrong.

[ mostly. it was more a matter of falco being forced to act, because generally— he was rather passive of violence or danger. always taking the safer way out of he was thinking straight (and when he wasn’t, fueled by loved and adrenaline, he acted too quickly).

up the stairs, the odor of iron and worse was stronger. heavy. ugly. falco could guess what else was past the hall’s leading frame, and to be sure they could proceed, perle materializes from a cloud of dark smoke from falco’s chest. the little falcon glides ahead and returns moments after, speaking to them through a telepathic and feminine voice:

sacrifice.

falco’s steps are slow and cautious, but he gives luca a glance before proceeding. they’ve got this together, so together, they were in this.

it’s too bad, much too bad, that the pollution on this floor was unbearable. there were sleepers hanging from the ceilings left and right, chest cavities open wide, while some bodies were stretched on tables— open and hollowed of organs. there were buckets of blood of all kinds, buckets of squids, jars, vials: all of blood or some kind of part. they were either put away or set upon sacrificial tables. ]

Don’t look—

[ falco warns, but it’s too late for him, too. he can feel the cold sweats waving down his body in a crash, his skin tingling, burning—

and underneath it, he felt it crawl, suffering corruption that was inevitable in the place they’ve come to. ]

[schoolingfish]

[It's too late. Luca is staring at all the carnage, feeling the corruption taking hold. Then, from above, blood drips from the ceiling and hits his face. He stares in shock, as the blood entering his system restarts his power...and he's suddenly intensely aware of all the blood around him, and he's intensely drawn to it like a shark. ​Luca yanks on the chain linking them.]

We have to break this chain! We have to break it now!

[And if Falco's wondering why Luca's insisting on this now, it'll soon become clear as the corruption takes hold. His fingernails are growing into claws, his teeth are sharpening, and Luca is completely entranced by the smell of the blood. He's suddenly so hungry. He then attempts to pull them both over to one of the bodies, staring at it in both hunger and revulsion.]

[grice]

Luca—?!

[ oh god, oh geez— he’s never been so close to someone twisting into corruption. in fact, falco hadn’t seen anyone do so until now, becoming monstrous right in front of his eyes like this. for a desperate second that an equal amount of horror rushes to falco’s features, he gets dragged along for the ride and can hardly fathom the possibility of what was to come.

even though it was unraveling by the second, just like that. falco can’t get himself out, not unless he harms himself in the process. perle shrieks from a metal roost: you need a sacrifice. but what kind?

falco knew he could do something without the same repercussions a regular human would have, but— ]

—I-I’m gonna pull on three, hang on! I’m going to help you!

[ he just had to— not think about it. if luca came for him, he wouldn’t be able to help either of them. ]

CW: Gore

[schoolingfish]

[Luca doesn't respond. He doesn't seem to hear Falco, and the hunger is rising up within him. He lifts his hand, flexing his fingers like he's getting ready to claw at something, and then...whether he's successfully diverting his frenzy away from Falco, or the corpse just has more of his attention because that's where the blood is is uncertain, but instead of attacking Falco, Luca plunges his claws into the corpse. Everywhere the blood splatters, scales rise up on his skin, and he rips a chunk of flesh off of the dead body.]

[grice]

[ oh god he's really doing that— falco's breathing lodges in his throat with a choked gasp, and for a second, two— he doesn't want to bring himself to move. if he pulled, he'd yank luca with him. if he hurt himself . . . even if it grew back, that's more pollution in a blood heavy environment. he has to think, he has to use his head, and he has to perhaps risk it in a way that prevents paleblood shedding.

he only had one shot at this, so he steadies his breathing from getting too erratic, focuses— he's seen worse, focus— ]

Luca, stop! Sᴛⷮoͦрⷬ!

[ the voice is his, but it's different; it's charged with energy. the ability is used to calm combative, aggressive auras like throwing a damp towel over fire, but only if he does it right. ]

[schoolingfish]

[At his command, Luca does stop. He turns, looks at him, still seeming like he's not all there but, for the moment at least, Luca seems calm, though uncertain, like he's not quite sure what's happening.]

cw for self harm (also in icon)

[grice]

[ okay— okay. falco doesn’t have the time nor the focus to act relieved— he keeps going. that’s, at most, thirty seconds. thirty seconds of calm before he either goes back to what he was doing, attacks falco instead, or gets through it (that, if it was strong enough to have made it thirty seconds; this place was a nerd zone). falco swallows tight and keeps his hand out, placating. ]

I’m going to get us out— Hang in there. Look at me— [ he’s there, he could see it in his eyes, and keeps attempting to get through to him. there’s a glass bottle with . . . something, in it. he can’t wait long to figure it out, takes it in his hands and throws it to the ground, opposite of luca. there were organs in there, and broken with a shatter showed that it was coldblood; it solidified and scattered its pieces, and falco took the chance to take one of the glass fractures, holds it tight in his hand—

and strips the piece out of his hold with the other. the gash it makes in his palm causes a slight wince, but not one falco wasn’t used to. milky white blood drips from the clenched fist to the ground, putting a hand print on the empty of spot upon the alter.

if that was good enough a sacrifice, he hoped the way would open. and god, when it does, an actual way out churning ajar just like the bolts and gears in sleeper farm, falco ushers luca by the shoulder, with his clean hand. ]

Just listen to my voice and stay calm,