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! ]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[he's weak, is what he is, nehan thinks, and is glad for the stimulant in his veins even if the very sensation of trancensia coursing through his body feels like death.]

Less talk.

[nehan uses his knife for defense now, rather than offense. infused with light, it makes for a much better shield than his own limbs-- not as good as a proper shield, but still much better and less likely to break. or hurt him when it breaks. but so far it hasn't shown much of breaking under the stress from childe's onslaught. of course, a knife still cant help him with a polearm, and his knees are in danger of buckling.

but with every dodge he makes, nehan delivers a blow. with every attack he blocks or outright takes, nehan sends a punch as well, but not as strong as the counters he offers after dodging. those would have broken quite a bit of things.

but his body hurts as well.]

[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.]

[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)

[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.]

[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.]

[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.]

[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)

[now, see, that's confirmation that childe has left his soft, human, underbelly exposed. silly man, not wearing armor where it matters the most. and he takes advantage of childe doubling over to climb him.

to leap on the human and attach himself like a little limpet, to smash his fist into all the soft, exposed parts over and over.

it does mean he barely manages to avoid the circle of lighting that childe puts down around his feet, but nehan is desperate to finish this now, and he's being scrappy by attaching himself to the man and punching him with a fist full of rainbow-colored magic.]

[Nehan gets a good few blows in, the magic serving to only worsen the blows to his midsection. He can feel himself cough up fluid in his mask, before his rage takes hold and he grabs Nehan with all of his strength, to pin the erune's arms to his sides, and peel the man off of him so he can't punch him any more.

He's been stabbed and beaten enough that he needs to end this soon before his body gives out from the transformation. But not before he gives the erune a taste of his own medicine.

If the peeling of Nehan off of him is successful, he's knows Nehan's going to retaliate by kicking him or possibly something worse from somewhere else. So Childe moves quickly, his knee coming up to try to slam it into Nehan's own stomach.]

[nehan notes how childe is moving, and wriggles his hands so the human can only grab him without pinning his body. even snagged like a pet ferret like this, he wriggles like he can get free some how. but, of course, he cant. he ends up trying to kick, but fails to anticipate childe's next movements-- the knee in his gut and the metallic tang in his mouth as he coughs up blood onto childe's thigh are enough of a wake-up call.

and it makes him aim a magic-strengthened kick at the bastard's face, but the physical power he uses doesn't amount to much of anything, and the erune growls. he's about to lose this fight and he hates it. knows it, hates it.]

[The kick connects, and his head twists to the side with it- but it's not as powerful as Childe thought it would be, and a menacing laugh erupts from him. Good, he's finally weakened, and he thinks that means this fight is over. The Harbinger chooses to forgo his weapons, taking a simple joy in lifting the erune up to slam him into the ground with one hand, as forceful as he can muster in this exhausted state of being he's found himself in.

It would be a shame to kill the doctor though. Being sucked into the heat of battle, Childe didn't even try to think about it too much. But isn't there something wrong here? Usually Nehan would just bully him a little, not outright attack. The man has healed him, scolded him for not coming to him for medical assistance. And where he's relished in this fight, despite the rage he feels at himself for making so many amateur mistakes, if he kills him, will he be as strong as this when he resurrects?

Asking the important questions. There's so much they don't know about when it comes to death here.]

[being slammed onto the ground isn't exactly new, but it's definitely new when someone is actually lifting him off of it with a single hand because they're just that big, and nehan, already shorter than average, is even smaller in comparison.

it forces a grunt of pain out of him, blinking stars out of his eyes and coughing dust out of his mouth and nose.

but still, nehan tries to fight, digging his nails into childe's gauntlet and even trying to bite him, light magic already creeping into his bruises and wounds to try and heal him.]

[If he's being serious, he's impressed that even through all this, Nehan continues to fight to the bitter end. As a true warrior should, as far as he's concerned, never giving up until he can't fight anymore. He knew that Nehan had been in the business of killing somehow, even if he didn't know it was assassin work- so to see this really bolsters his opinion of the man. It's more than he expected from Nehan, and he finds himself smiling from behind his mask, through labored breaths, sweat, and blood that's pooled inside of it.]

E͙͖̟n̟͔o͎͙͎u̡̻g̘̻͎h̻͇̻.̼

[It's worthy of respect, and Childe will show him that respect in kind- he takes the pain of claws finding nicks in his gauntlet as he winds back to punch Nehan in the gut as he holds him on the ground.]

[nehan coughs once more, wheezing as more blood comes from the mouth with the blow childe delivers. and yet, still, he refuses to give up, digging his nails into the human's gauntlet with his teeth bared enough to show off his fangs. his teeth may be bloodied, and his eyes may be clouded from the pain, but he hasn't completely given up.

even if, logically, nehan thinks childe is done and will no longer fight.]

You're-- you're done?

[if childe isn't done, nehan wont be afraid of death, he never has been.]

[Childe studies him- is he sane now? There seems to of been a shift here, hasn't there? Nehan will clearly fight him until he passes out or dies, which is fine by him. But the only thing left to do, if they continue, is to kill him.

So he stands, to pin Nehan to the ground under his boot, only because he doesn't know if he lets him back up again, if he isn't going to go for a decisive blow that would put Childe in jeopardy. He's already tired and weak, and he's going to lose his transformation at any moment now. And once that happens, if Nehan has the strength- the Harbinger is pretty much dead.]

H͔̫̘a͙͇̙v͍̠e̦̙͕ y̠͙͕o̡͎͖u̡̠͜ r̫̻͖e̻̫͖t̙͚͚u̫̞r̻͔͚n̘͖e̡͕͍d͜͜ t͖͓͔o̺̫͉ n̢̪͉o͎̪̦r̘̫͔m̢̦̙a̠̦̫l͓͎̠ y͍͇̘e̘͎͚t͍͙̟?͖

[He asks, leaning over to scrutinize him. He's figured out now that something wasn't right.]

[the boot is worse, nehan thinks. but certainly a situation he's dealt with before, and he knows the best thing to do.

which is nothing.

he lays on the ground like a broken little doll, breathing deeply, as much as childe's weight and the dust in his nose will allow, without coughing. then, eventually:]

You can take your foot off of me. I think you made me bleed and cough out the drug.

[From within the mask, he blinks a few times. Drug, was it? That makes sense, far more sense than any other explanation. He removes his foot from Nehan, still on guard, but his gut tells him that it's probably fine. Which is good, because, well...]

H̠͙m̢̼͔.͖͉͉.̫̙̼.̺͕̞s͖͇͕o͓̼͖ t̫̟̦h͓͚͎a̢̠͔t̪͚͎'͕̘̠ș̻͉ w̼̝̦h̪̠̺a͓̟͕t͕͚̝ i̡̫͜t̢̺̺ w͚͇̙a̺͚̘s͎̻. N̙̙̠g̺̪̦h͎͖̘.͚͖̺.̫̼

[He feels his legs buckle under him, and he falls down to one knee- and the labored breathing is accentuated by how his celestial cape ripples more behind him as it floats there. The armor slowly starts to break apart, dark energy dissipating into the air as it disintegrates around him. Nehan can clearly see the work he's done now, green blood staining Childe's clothing, covering his chin and splattered on his cheek. The Harbinger instinctively falls to both knees now, grasping the shoulder that had gotten shot.]

[even without the haze of trancensia in his brain and enhancing all of his senses, childe's distorted voice still hurts his ears.

huffing and puffing, nehan fights to prop himself up onto his elbows, and looks at childe suffering on the ground nearby. a normal person would feel guilty for the damage they've done, but nehan does not-- what's done is done. but the erune waits until childe's transformation has ebbed away, and then he begins the long, slow process of crawling towards him.

for a status report, for one.]

Did I break anything? [only intense self-control and sheer experience with keeping himself together in times of extreme pain lets nehan speak this clearly. his voice may be soft, but he still manages to enunciate each word properly.]

Ahaha...no, I don't think so. Though I don't know if I'll be able to use my arm in the following days.

[He says, his laugh layered with pain, voice gravely and yet happy all the same. Childe looks up to see the erune slowly crawling towards him, looking far more normal than he did before. Though it's weird to see him without the cover over his eye.]

What an exhilarating battle. I never knew you held that kind of power.

[ugh. nehan has to grimace at the reminder of his power, and what it took to even get it. or even how it was still easily beaten by a man who didn't have the same drug in his veins.]

Don't get used to it. [nehan grunts as he hauls himself even closer to the human, like a little earthbound wraith. then he drops to the ground, glaring at childe.]

I'll heal you as long as you don't tell anyone about this.

If you want to conceal your power... [He stops mid-sentence to grimace, finally shifting down to sit on his butt as he holds his shoulder-] then I'll keep your secret.

[He can see why he'd want to hide it. It's a drug, so if others found out about it and got a hold of it? That wouldn't be good.]

Guess you wouldn't let me try it sometime then, would you?

[It's a joke. But it's a not a joke. He would absolutely use it if it was given to him.]

[nehan's expression turns what can only be described as dark and murderous. just for a moment, before morphing into a tired frown.

it's such a bad joke.]

It's forbidden to give it to anyone outside the clan. [which is a firm no.

then he reaches out and grabs hold of childe's shoulder, none-too-gently. let him really feel nehan's irritation before pushing what light magic he has left into the wound, the same warm sunlight magic.]

[open] bad doggie!

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