deercountry | [open] bad doggie!

Entry tags:

[open] bad doggie!

Who: Nehan + OPEN (one thread closed to specific people)
What: Someone (Nehan) died before someone's (Nehan's...) birthday, and not of fun. Featuring the aftermath of said death, an angry squid, and a doctor who's bad at taking care of himself.
When: forward-dated to Jan. 19 and later
Where: Primarily in Nehan's house, but the death thread is set in the wilderness.

Content Warnings: Violence, beasthood, death, paleblood powers, traumatic memories of near-death experiences, some nudity, Nehan-typical self-loathing, mentions of sex, Jan. TDM-style body horror. More TBA as they come up.

a: squid time

[nehan's tub is modest by human standards. large for a man of his (usual) size, but massive for a little squid, almost transparent save for its rainbow-colored insides, the most prominent of which is sunshine-yellow. the squid is absolutely tiny, no bigger than an adult human's hand.

there's a grab bar attached to the wall next to the tub, and the edge of the tub opposite it, clearly for nehan's use when he's an erune, because what will a squid do with those? he cant even reach them. though he's definitely trying, swimming back and forth, and occasionally reaching out with a little tentacle in an attempt to reach it.

but of course, he cant reach it, and that frustrates the squid enough that he jets out a little bit of dark ink. literally farting in anger, this one is.]

b: cant sleep (cw: really morbid jokes)

[the evening after nehan's squid was retrieved from the water and returned to his house, he returns to normal. annoyed as he rises from inky water and having to clean himself, but still, he's a skinny, scarred erune again, without the additions he gained over the past months. an erune that needs a long, long nap, and will head straight to his bed to have said long nap without even drying his hair.

if anyone chooses to stay longer and keep vigil over the once-squid... well, no one is stopping you, not even the omen, who is guarding the door to the basement underneath the stairs, and will not move away.

nehan might not be too much of a host however, when he's bedridden, having gone through a traumatic death and unable to control his limbs well. every time his left arm or leg has a spasm, his expression twists into one of chagrin and irritation, and he clutches at the limb until it stops. he tries to lay under his bedding just to lessen it... but well. that doesn't work as well as he hoped, and it's not proper medical procedure, but when it comes to himself, nehan has never cared a goddamn bit. still...]

... Stay a little longer. Without anything to do, I'll have another death soon, and this time of boredom. [that was a joke. but it's bad and he knows it's bad.]

c: winter mourning's last hurrah (nehan's memories/cw: eventual near-death experience)

[there is a winter mourning in nehan's house, a wreath laying in the seat of an armchair in the living room, and despite looking innocent, it is still active. and if it's touched, instead of dragging some poor unsuspecting bastard into a dream, it drags them into a memory.

the nehan in this memory is an adult, just like the one in bed, recovering from his violent bout with death-- but he's also different. seemingly younger, more filled-out, less scraggly hair, and lacking in the eyepatch and crutch that has become nehan's signature. but his ears have much less fur on them and are tattered at the ends, the shadows under his eyes are darker, and he's sporting fresh bruises on his face, like he's just been in a brawl. or more than just a brawl-- he looks like he's been beaten within an inch of his life.

still, he's walking amongst a crowd that doesn't seem to notice him, in a crowded marketplace in a bustling town with airships flying high above them. he looks like he knows where he's going, and behind him... behind him is another nehan, walking much slower, bearing a crutch and an eyepatch-- the nehan most people know, by now.

he pauses when he notes he's not alone, turning around and ears twitching, then tilts his head towards his younger self as if to say come along.]

d: the days after: achelliac (cw: nudity, self-loathing)

[achelliac's usual clientele may be sailors, but at least they don't turn nehan away. and, as he finds out, some of his fellow customers are fascinated enough with him that he just decides to indulge them with what they want. even if he's here just to deal with the aches of his body that still linger after his rebirth. at least he's no longer suffering from muscle spasms.

the hot springs will deal with what other aches he gets in this place, in any case, that's why he's here-- get himself up to snuff so he can get back to work without problems.

making his way to the pool from the showers is always an adventure in going slow to accommodate his too-thin, too-scarred body and not slipping, just because he leaves his cane with his clothes (he needs a new crutch, a cane just isn't the same...). though he's right at the edge of the pool, he pauses when he sees another man there already.]

May I, or do you prefer privacy? [perhaps he should have asked that before he got naked...]

wildcard
[[ hit me with your best shot-- everything is a-ok and will match prose or action, but the actual boss battle is restricted to certain characters. nehan dies on the 19th, revives as a squid on the 22nd and is returned to his house on the same day, while his headcanon birthday is on the 20th. thanks to #justpalebloodthings, nehan can admit that his birthday is coming up to any palebloods. he is also a paleblood, so people can speak to him more freely as well.

people are free to come and go as they like. snooping is encouraged, but the basement is guarded by nehan's omen. i'm also open to changing the memory in prompt c. if we haven't threaded yet, we can just handwave the first meeting and nehan giving out his address. if you're unsure, just ask! ]]

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Then you should learn how to control them. [because for nehan, everything is a lucid dream now.] Even if you have coldblood...

No, blood has nothing to do with it. I've had lucid dreams before I even came here. It's how I woke from my long, long sleep.

[that one.]

I’ve had lucid dreams before, but it was under my own direction. [This feels like someone else’s will settling on his shoulder like a large hand. Like his father’s hand. It isn’t him and thus he chafes at it.]

Utterly unsurprising each patron is different but, I wish I knew what Bausphomette is doing.

You shouldn't be asking me that. My patron is the Doorway, and thus I have no idea what any of them are doing. [or where his patron is, really.]

Either you find them and ask them yourself, or you find a way to live with it.

[As he fights, he can see that eventually they'd be left at a stalemate. Nehan has plenty of power to counteract his own, and he knows he can't beat him this way. Everything aches, Nehan getting blows in even as he weaves in and out, and Childe is starting to look the worse for wear as they go on.

Still, he mouth keeps running despite that.]

Does fighting talk annoy you? It's all part of the fun!

[A large swing of his polearm sends an arc of electricity towards Nehan, as he laughs manically, bloodlust clear in his voice. It's a distraction. He needs a little room, and maybe this will work, maybe it won't.]

[childe's ability to place that magical seal on him over and over again is irritating. does every skill he have just happen to apply it? nehan has to keep removing it every time, and that takes precious seconds, and precious attention away from the battle. idly, he wonders what would happen if he let it simply stay, then decides against it, because if every single skill childe has applies it, it will add up if he decides the effects are too benign to care about, and then nehan will be in trouble.

he already is, he reminds himself. it seems as if childe is hitting him more than the erune is hitting the human, nehan absorbing more damage than he reasonably should be.

the arc of lightning smacks nehan full in the chest, and he thinks he can smell burning fabric and feel the pain of the magic searing his skin, perhaps even burning at him-- but he growls and snaps back to a proper standing position, unwilling to fall just like that.

and then he thrusts forward with his knife, finally using it for something other than defense. the steel gleams like the rainbow with nehan's innate magic, but yellow is by far the most dominant color in it.]

I wouldn’t have asked that out loud without this damn influence. [Diluc grumbles. He’s sick of this being too damn honest. He’ll resist it again, force it to pull things out of him.]

All that aside, I get the feeling over time we’ll find out. Whether it be the stories in the archives or not.

You fuss too much about that, but you have the power to do something about it. [meaning, leave nehan's presence.] Whether you stay away from me until whatever this is has blown over, or sit and complain over that sort of suffering, it doesn't matter to me.

[because, in the end, nehan cant control it. diluc is the one who can control something, and he finds the complaints so... inane.]

[This time there is no grousing or grumbling. He just shrugs.] The influences on us seem to be from the gods themselves. But as for the rest, you are right.

I only have one last thing to tell you. I will help Flynn through. He took killing you less well than Ives or I.

Now, [He climbs to his feet and his hair settles about his face like a lion’s mane. He would deal with it outside.]

Have they ever mentioned anything about Archons? Or gods, or anything of the sort?

[ the direction he's going with this conversation... it probably sounds like it's coming out of nowhere. but it's something that he himself brought up, partially calling himself out. out of anger, out of sadness. desperation.

he feels nehan's eye on his fake vision. that he reaches down and touches it with his free hand. ]

This... this isn't real.

[nehan's eye had moved back to venti's face, but then it snaps back to the vision-- not a vision? it looks exactly like one, so it's an intricate piece of glasswork.]

Diluc-- most of what I know comes from him, that Mondstadt's patron is the wind god Barbatos. I'm under the impression that the gods bestow Visions on their people... But yours is a fake? [then nehan pauses, absorbing this information and consolidating it to what he already knows. and then he begins thinking out loud.]

Archons is a new term to me, but it means ruler-- synonymous with god in context. Only they have magic natural to themselves. Which means...

[nehan looks back at venti's face, ears standing straight up. he's figured it out.]

[His blades come up to block, but it's no secret that he's starting to tire. The blade is deflected from the electro blade, but it only serves to stab into him anyway, just not quite in the place Nehan had aimed for originally. He cries out in pain, cursing himself for making such a rookie mistake.

He'd hoped it hadn't come to this, but there's the risk of losing his life if he doesn't. In a flash, he moves away from Nehan, breathing hard.

There's no fancy transformation to watch, he doesn't have time for that. This is a crucial moment, and it's in one explosion of dark energy that radiates like a shockwave out from him that he changes. Dark abyssal armor covers his body, his mask reflecting Nehan's image in its one eye, the billowing celestial cape flowing behind him. The weapon in his hand has the stars shining on the blades, a polearm that dwarfs his previous one.]

Y̺͉͎o̡̫͜u̘̙̞ s̼̻͜h͖̠̞o͚͓͜u̝͚̞l̞͕̝d͕̦̪ f̢̺e̠͎̠e̟͉̼l͚̺͍ p͕̫̻r̺̘͜o͇͎͜u̪͜d̞͉͉ t̘̦̙h̠̟͓a̪͖̠t̺͉͖ y͕̘̼o͓͙͔u̦͙̫'͔̻̝v̫̘̟e̢̙͉ p͕̞̻u͇̙͕s͔͚͍h̪̟͉e͖͚͜d͔͓͇ m̠̠̟e̡͙̝ t͕̟̘o̢̺̘ u͔̪s̢͖̟e̡͉̺ t͇̼̼h̢̠̪i̘̼̙s̻͔̦.͓͙̦ N̼͔̠o͙͍̝w̼͜ p͚̘͖r͓͙͓e̪͚̙p̢̝̞a̘͖r͕͜͜e͉̪̙ y̠͙̙o̘͉͓u͚͜͜r͎̘̫s̻͓e̝̼͓l͚̠͚f̢͕͎.

Edited (forgot my html ;;) 2022-02-12 19:37 (UTC)

Ehe.

[ soft and meek, as his cheeks turn bright red. ]

I prefer the name Venti. It sounds a lot nicer off the tongue, doesn't it? The name Barbatos... a god doesn't walk the streets of Mondstadt. No, the city has always operated perfectly fine without someone deliberately watching over them.

[ as he speaks, the ends of his braids begin to glow. just slightly. ]

Freedom isn't truly freedom if the people believe someone is forcing it. No... they do quite fine without him.

[ and venti lets go of a held breath. ]

[the first thought in nehan's head after the revelation is that he is going to flay diluc alive for keeping this information from him. the second is that nehan made a massive blunder, and venti has no idea-- and nehan doesn't know how to approach it with him. after all, how do you tell someone you've been somewhat intimate with that you were under the impression that their other persona is an utter bastard?

the third is that those braids glow, and aren't just ombre. he might not look at venti's hair the same way again.

then he swallows to speak.]

And you wear a fake Vision just to excuse your magic. [he offers his hand to help venti up if he wants it, just for something to do with it.] You... are a kind god, then.

[nehan, predictably, is thrown backwards with the blast, and barely avoids nicking himself as he rolls and skids on to the ground. unfortunately, that means he loses his knife, the weapon clattering several feet away from him, and he decides, on the spot, that getting it is best saved for later because he'll leave himself open to an opportunistic strike. instead, he draws his gun and nearly barks out an insult at childe, but instead ends up just barking, a snarling sound that makes his vocal cords ache.

it's the only kind of verbal or vocal response he can make, when the man's voice makes his ears ache-- he can barely even understand him.

childe is fortunate that when nehan reloads and shoots, his bullets only contain light magic. but he doesn't need to do real damage, he knows this-- all he needs is to stagger childe, or distract him enough to be able to get into his personal space again.]

[ happily, venti takes that hand. he uses it to pull himself up. all the while, he doesn't break his eye contact with nehan. ]

A kind god? [ he reaches back and rubs the back of his neck. ] Ha, well. I think I'm definitely nicer than the previous archon.

[ the smile on his face is light, patient, and waiting--- to see nehan's reaction. ]

If... if I were to ever become a tyrant like him, to forcibly place Mondstadt in a position where no person could choose their own paths in life? I would expect nothing less but to be challenged and slain. If that makes me kind, then I suppose that I am.

[ a pause as he fights back the sting of tears again. ]

And that is why I'm Venti. I love our home, and our home loves me back in kind.

[nehan blinks again, seeing venti's eyes water, but unable to give him proper comfort because the revelation has still broken him. he knows he should tell the man right now... but he cant, he's a coward. instead, he fights with his left arm as he tugs his coat off and wraps it around venti's shoulders instead. this leaves his back and sides unprotected in the air, but the warmth in his chest is enough to keep him from shivering.

then he turns to fetch his crutch, walking slowly, gingerly. it's new, he just got it made, and he doesn't want to have to return for yet another one.]

I would say that's kind, yes. [when he turns back to venti, his face is carefully blank once more.] That you want them to be free... yes. And that makes you free as well.

We should... go back to my house.

[It's as if one minute he's there, the next minute he's not. The bullets whiz into an empty space where Childe had been once before, a sizzle of electricity and dark energy left in his place. The next second, Childe is giving Nehan essentially what he wants, getting into his personal space. Except now it's on the Harbinger's terms, and he looms directly next to Nehan, with an arm raised to bring a celestial blade down upon Nehan's head.]

D̡̢̪i̙̘e̢̝͕.̪

[he is much faster than expected, several steps up from the way he was minutes ago. and he really has to wonder-- why did childe hold back? really now...

nehan takes a deep breath and releases it in an almost-violent huff as he throws himself to the side, right onto the balls of his feet, and he uses that momentum as a springboard to get himself standing again. and launching himself into a run again. he already feels the burn of muscles being worked close to their limits, even with the drug in his system. either it's about to be fully burnt out of his system with all the work he's done, or his body is failing him.

or both.

either way, it means he needs to finish this soon-- kill or be killed. nehan tries to catch up to childe, peering at his armor and figuring out where he should aim for maximum damage, and then raises his gun.

the first shot is a feint, an attempt to make childe move in the direction he wants, and the next shot he makes is at a different angle, to the place where he wants childe to be at, and maybe hopefully bury that bullet into his gut. but, of course, nehan wont wait for a confirmation of the bullets hitting childe, not when he's already chasing the human down again.]

[ nehan may not think it, but that decision to give up his coat... a different kind of warmth settles on his bones and on his nerves and brings a relieved smile to his face. that he doesn't seem to be nearly as affected by revealing who he is. what he is. what he means to an entire world and nation and the individuals that live in the city, even if they don't know who venti really is. ]

Please... yes, let's go.

[ he carefully wraps an arm around nehan's waist. even though he has that crutch, he wants to support him in that way too. just in case. ]

[His head snaps to the side as Nehan takes off, firing bolts of hydro arrows off that don't land as Nehan runs. But there's that gun again, and Childe can't afford to get hit again. His arm feels like it's going to fall off from the pain of the gunshot wound in it, and it's taking all his willpower to continue to fight with it. Guess it'll be just another object to add to the list of things removed from his body after a tough fight. He can't imagine what would happen if it were to hit him somewhere more vital, other than death. Or perhaps he'd just bleed out as organs begin to fail without medical assistance, assistance he doesn't plan on getting from the good doctor here. Not now.

When he teleports, he doesn't teleport to the side, or away. The bullets don't find a mark, because he's teleporting forward, to a spot where he can meet Nehan once again in close combat. Electricity hums over the blades as he breaks them apart to swing them down in an X, crossing them and trying to slice Nehan's chest open as a reminder that he's not here to play games with the erune anymore.]

[venti's arm is warm. perhaps nehan cant feel his skin with the sleeve in the way, but he can tell that venti is warm. literally, not figuratively.

but also figuratively. that he wants to support nehan even after nehan has been cool towards him... he really is a kind man, isn't he? while nehan was thinking unkind thoughts about his alter-ego... he allows himself a peek down at the man as they start the trek to his house, and a lean against venti.

he should really tell him one day, when nehan isn't being a coward.]

It's not far. Can you walk the whole way? You may fly ahead if you wish, and I'll catch up eventually.

Edited 2022-02-16 06:10 (UTC)

[the fact that nehan is already faltering is never more evident to the erune than when childe manages to cut him. he doesn't dip down low enough to dodge the two massive slices of elemental magic surging at him, and one of the bottom edges just slices at his shoulder, tearing his sleeve and leaving it bloody.

his right shoulder, no less. he can fight well enough with his left, but nehan is already working his magic to heal his shoulder, but it cut deeply-- it wont be healed until much later.

still, he moves his gun and aims with his left hand, but ends up using it as a feint, as he brings the butt up into childe's ribs. the chin is usually the best place to pistolwhip someone, but when he has that mask, nehan is sure he'll end up breaking his gun instead.]

[The opening he's created by coming down with those slashes leaves his midsection wide open, and the pistol slams into his stomach with significant force, making him take a few steps back. He knows he's tired, but he swears he will see this to the end, though he may be regretting it if he lives through the encounter. It serves to further enrage him, not at Nehan but at himself, for making such a stupid mistake in the middle of what's currently life or death. But at the same time...isn't that what makes this entire exchange beautiful to begin with?]

N̻͍̦g̡͍͜.̡̝͔.͎͎.͔̙.̼̞͔.̝͕̘h͇͚̙a͙̘͚!͉

[He takes advantage of that space created by the attack, his hand coming down in front of him as an electrical circle appears under Nehan's feet. A target, if you will, as four electro blades come crashing down on that spot, whether Nehan is still there or not when they arrive.]

Edited (i wanted to add more lol) 2022-02-16 20:43 (UTC)

I can, but... I would rather stick with you.

[ and these feelings aren't born from what just happened. no, he genuinely cares for nehan. isn't that obvious? that it's not sympathy that makes him want to help, nor is it a desire to see it paid back somehow, but that it's incredibly simple: he likes the erune. very much so. ]

We'll get there together.

[he has yo wonder why venti is so... selfless. why he's going out of his way for broken, old nehan. if he knew...

nehan sighs.]

All right. Together it is. And we can rest.

[nehan leads the way around the winding, crowded streets, knowing the ones that aren't packed from end to end, just to cut down the time it takes to get to the small townhouse with the stencils of pawprints on the front steps. little drawings that the little lamp people made of his omen's paws and that nehan decided to just let stay.]

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[open] bad doggie!

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