[semi-open] If you're trying hard to breathe in the dark

[likethelight]

Who: Allen & others, possibly Argonaut appearances
What: Event-log and other April-related prompts. Plotting prompt stuff!
When: Throughout April
Where: Various

Content Warnings: SAD THINGS, harm and death to NPC children, mutilation, nightmare fuel mindfuckery, high corruption and beasthood.




⛧ 1. if your screams don't make a sound (wonderkind/AKUMA) ★

[ You were probably just minded your own business doing something totally normal — and then you got caught in up in Allen Walker's vortex of bad luck. Sorry. It's just a thing that happens. He doesn't even have his unlucky rabbit's foot on him! He learned better really quickly...!!

Regardless of whether you might have been haggling with a bakery over the price of day-olds, sipping tea in some little shop, or maybe this is your house that he's... about to put a hole through. So sorry — but all of a sudden part of the nearby brickwork explodes as a slender figure is bodily slammed entirely through it.

Yeah. It's that kind of day.

It does not look comfortable. And it does not look like something anyone could have gotten away with without some broken ribs, but as the dust settles the boy that was indeed used as a wrecking ball of sorts starts coughing and trying to sit up. This is just -- ugghhh...

Coming to his senses quickly though, dressed in a black and red jacket underneath what seems to be a impossibly volumous feathered white cloak that seems to be made of moonlight itself he -- blinks. And then whirls around, realizing you're there.

His left eye has bled black throughout the sclera, and the iris has shifted to glowing red rings that shift in and out like a camera lens focusing. There's a dark, corrupted sort of smoke that seems to be pooling around it as well. His expression is wide with alarm, actual fear for a moment at seeing you there, before he stumbles back up to his feet. To square his shoulders, face the hole he just was thrown through—

And rip back, shouting at you over his shoulder as he spreads a single arm out in warning. ]

RUN!

[ Because, over the edge of the rubble... there's a faint sort of here-but-not dark glow. And the world seems to desaturate, fading from color into the black and white. It doesn't feel right. It doesn't feel like you're even looking through your own eyes.

And then you hear a faint sobbing. Distant, but far too close as well. Like it's there in your own skull. Faintly.

And a figure floats into view, cresting the stone. At first, it looks like... an extremely mummified corpse. Bone dry, curled up in a fetal position. It isn't even the thing crawling up and through the hole, but that seems deem and distant right now. It's attached to it.

Because the sobbing stops as soon as you look at it, and the specter stiffens suddenly. Socketless pits for eyes turning right towards you as it realizes you see it —

—and its jaw falls open as it screams. ]



⛧ 2. if your heart just cries too loud all the time (butterflies/beasthood) ★


[ He knew this worked like a game of Russian roulette, he really did. And he doesn't even want to have to destroy any of the butterflies that have flocked to the Trench. It's fine when they stay up and away from people, but when they choose to land near populated areas...

It's not even for misjudging his own ability to purge corruption from his own body! It has limits, he knows that... too much can still be too much if it's all at once. But he has to keep trying. Better him than someone else. Or at least, thinking about that...

...it's easy to forget the actual consequences.

Maybe you were there when he destroyed the butterfly, a boy who suddenly transformed into into a white harbinger wreathed in what looks like condensed moonlight taking the shape of a huge feathered cloak and wielding a great broadsword as long and broad as he is. Maybe you just see the consequences of that — or hear the sudden howling gale.

A whirling gale of feathers, light, and tattered wings made from moonlight themselves that rips upwards from a doubled over figure. A white and gold gigantic masquerade mask floats above as well, twisting to and fro from the feathered cloak like it's unsure how to hold its shape, like it's too angry to remember its shape and cares not for what it was, but is trying to contort itself into something new. But the winged sort of cloak looks almost angelic, glowing white-gold and ethereal. It's beautiful, and somewhat terrible as well. Especially as the figure, with his hands clutching his head like it wants to split in two, would not seem to have a normal left hand but a great white and gold monstrous sort of claw instead. But it too can't seem to hold its form, splitting into glowing feathers along his arm that twist in the air.

It's like a howling monster clinging to the figure even as it also tries to rip away.

And if you're caught staring, an edge of that tattered, feathery wing-cloak rips out towards you and slashes into—and through the brickwork by your head. And that's when you might realize that even though it looks like a cloak and feathers, it cuts as sharply as any sword. ]

Stay— [ It's a boy beneath all that. A teenager, pale and ethereal himself as the feathers around him, with a dark red scar cutting through the left side of his face. And he pants and rasps it out, gritting his teeth audibly and fixing a surprisingly sharp and hard dark eye on you. A window of raw clarity in a maelstrom.

Anguished clarity, his face twisted in tragedy.

But that eye is blood red and black, and the scar surrounding it twists itself restlessly across his face like an angry, living thing. Black smoke bleeds from that left side of his face, mixing in with the white. ]

—back...

More closed prompts below! I'm trying to do more closed/planned things since I have a lot going on this month and a bunch that are sequential, but please feel free to hit me up on my plotting prompt and I'm happy to plan something and do a private prompt for us! He will be generally collecting the hope orbs, mostly for Viktor, getting fucked up with his restored memories/tether and hiding from people later in the month, and trying to purify and reverse the corruption/beasthood of any turned, especially as a result of the butterflies. So, especially if you want to get your character in on realizing even full beasthood can be reversed by exorcists and other sorts of purification abilities and you want them to be able to see the human souls still in them... 👉👈 hit me up.

Comments

[swellter]

[ He leans right. Let's the ice numb the ache inside. It's easy to let it swallow the anger before it consumes him, sparing him the whiplash of emotions. He embraces his mother's gift. Calls on the ice to follow after the teen, keeping up with his light-footed movements.

His eye can sense it? A calm demeanor follows the fluttering cape, attention focused on a familiar red eye. He had that back then... in the catacombs. His quirk no doubt. ]

How far is it?

[ He asks instead, sticking to what's important as he follows his lead through the terrain, maneuvering behind him in three dimensions on glittering shards of frozen water. ]

1/2

[likethelight]

Not far. [ His tone is soft and grimly sober both. Ever of gentle demeanor, even in such a dark scenario and when his senses are primed for battle. ]

Somewhere in the street just up a— [ his breath catches, stuck in his throat ]

2/2

[likethelight]

...head.

[ But he trails off, tone turning horrified as suddenly there's a wet splash instead of the rough sound of cobblestone underfoot. It's dark, even with the full moon overhead, so it's hard to entirely tell -- but even Allen comes to a full stop as soon as he realizes that. Like there's water in the street yes, but before someone might even realize the liquid puddled around one's boots... it's the smell.

Thick to the point of not even really being coppery, but viscous. Stomach-turning. Not just blood but bile and viscera. The insides of a body not meant to be outside and smelled. The stench of blood pollution itself when it's this thick. Dozens and -- ]

...! [ It's a small and strangled sort of sound from Allen, caught in the back of his throat, even from someone raised amidst massacres. Who's seen the results of entire towns and even countries massacres for the sake of creating more monsters, more legions of killing machines powered by human suffering.

But no one ever gets used to seeing an entire street dead, and certainly not so brutally. Bodies in pieces; some still flesh and torn, others seemingly turned to ashen stone like the children in the alley, their skin covered in more of the measles-like black stars. Carts overturned and broken, the walls of houses rubbled in parts by what looks like massive artillery fire.

Some of them people he recognizes, from the torn clothing or part of a face. Someone he would stop and chat pleasantly with on his day to day activities, plying his way for a day old piece of bread or running some errands for them.

And throughout all of it, this pervasive, loud commingled sobbing and soft cries from a street awash in forbiddenly spilled blood. The only sound in an otherwise silent nightmare... aside from the faint hissing sound of what sounds like gas escaping.

Gas, rising like a poisonous cloud from the remains of a giant monstrous corpse in the middle of it all. Fallen to its side and looking broken, with what look like three giant clownish heads that were once attached to a gangly, spiderous figure.

And one giant eyeball, as big as the two of them combined, is staring directly at them. Wide, and seemingly dead. ]

[swellter]

[ For a second, he thinks they've hit the Lumenarium. Blood in the air so thick it chokes you, but no. The screams here don't echo from afar. Forbidden blood drives the voices to a crescendo. Pools of it spilled across cobblestone painted red. His ice staggers and he stumbles forward.

Horrified eyes, wide with innocence, lost amid a sea of red. Overwhelmed by the sight before him. Carcasses torn apart. Inside out. Spraying blood on every surface. Bone piercing through flesh. Pools of blood. He chokes on the stench. Goes weak. Falls to his knees. Fingers dig into the melting ice SEEing everything below him.

Revulsion turns over his empty stomach. He chokes on his own bile. Spits it out between a half-choked cry of anguish. Sheltered from the horrors of the world, witnessing death of this scale of atrocity crushes him. He can't think straight. Hand shakes. Broken corposes fill his head and amid the growing panic, the sound of quiet sobbing pierces through the veil and he goes ever so still... ]

...!

[ Hope swells inside him and he forces his trembling limbs to move, scrambling over the edge of the ice to catch sight of the--

He goes white. Blood drained. What is--

Flames lick across his cheek. Flickering to life melting the layers of frost numbing his emotions and against the backdrop of the Grotesque, a firestorm wells up inside him melting the platform of ice.

He falls. Tumbling down on top of that all-seeing eye. The moment he touches it, he loses control and BURNS. ]

CW: incoming eye gore

[likethelight]

[ He should have noticed it quicker, Shouto's state. He was slow because of his own half-numbed one, horrified at just how quickly and brutally so many could be destroyed when he knew something had appeared and came as quickly as he could. And because, staring into that eye... it's hypnotic. He knows that, he's seen this before. This is something that he... he should--

-- why does it make him feel like his blood's coming alive...?

Todoroki's choked cry snaps him out of it though, and he turns quickly to the other, face immediately twisting in sympathetic horror. Ah, no, he should have noticed. Instinctively he reaches out to rest a comforting hand on his shoulder, when the flames begin to lick across the side of his face suddenly and he stops.

No, that's... ]

Todoroki! [ shit, he's too fast, and Allen has to momentarily throw his hands up to shield himself from the sudden heat ] Todoroki, stop!

That kind of creature, it's -- ! [ what kind of creature

He's jumped down headlong with him though, heedless of the flames now pouring off the other boy or that he hasn't invoked his own ability yet. No glimmering cloak for protection.

He understands how you feel, but reacting like this— he reaches out to grab him by his right shoulder and forcibly spin him around to look at him, his own expression one of true panic as much as it's a commanding bark. ]

You can't breathe that gas in!

[ The gas, which... even if Shouto attempts to incinerate that great eyeball and the cracked piece of face it resides in, it merely scorches the surface no matter how much how hot it is. It does virtually nothing, being made of a thing entirely not of the physical world or limited by most of its physics. But the thick viscous fluid oozing out of the cracks, what looked like blood... ignites and smolders as oil might, releasing more of the thick, noxious stuff into the air.

Poison? Yes. But the bigger worry might be how the surface of the eye suddenly seems to... warp. Bulge.

And then splits, two gangly arms peeling their way out of it. Like a baby crawling from its mother's dead belly. ]

[swellter]

[ Flames cover him whole, the heat barely registering. Amid the disarray of thoughts, he barely hears Allen, his voice drowned out by the accusations coming from the dead, drawing power from the pool of forbidden blood drenching the street.

Revulsion has his mind skittering and Kizu tries to reign back his thoughts. The stark disconnect between what's below and what he knows is worlds apart. Coming from a peaceful society that has only recently known turmoil, death was only ever a possibility never a reality. Heroes don't kill.

Something of this scale... the massacre of children...

He feels himself falling, something spins him around. Allen! A fixed point. Something to hold onto. He speaks and Kizu explodes out of him, hitting the ground and growing to a monstrous size. Rivaling a small house, they land atop her great white coat and only then does he realize he's burning!

Panicked, he scrambles away from Allen, fire snuffing out to nothing as his omen lumbers away from the gas funneling down from below and the thing from which limbs start spewing from. ]

[likethelight]

[ B-big cat. Big cat. ]

Kizu...? [ Uaa, his omen. That's right, from before in the catacombs. This is the first time he's seen one get this big though -- even if the surprise will have to wait. He only has time to marvel at the thick fur beneath his hands after she's scooped them up for a second before he turns to Shouto.

Honestly, it was like briefly reaching towards a blast furnace. Even if his left arm is fully immune to any such thing -- and right now he is more than grateful he bled himself dry almost literally to afford the blood enchantments to make the new uniform Sansa made him fireproof, the catacombs experience was good for something -- because otherwise he would have lost that entire sleeve. She'd have scolded him something fierce for it, he's sure.

Ask him if he cares though, even when Shouto scrambles away with such obvious panic and Allen looks briefly... not crestfallen, but sympathetic. It's fine. He doesn't mind the fact his eyelashes even feel a bit singed and that side of his face feels overly hot. But his reaction, seeing this kind of massacre...

Sorry. He's really sorry. Even if he doesn't quite even know why yet, and he reaches out towards him as he opens his mouth to speak --

But doubles over then as if in pain instead, clutching the left side of his head. ]

--! Nnn... [ It feels like his head is going to split open, right down through his scar. It's screaming. Because behind them... all of the blood...

It's begun to flow... backwards. Pooling towards the giant, monstrous corpse on the ground as if it's begun to suck it up. As something seems to be pulling itself out from its unseeing eyeball. ]

[swellter]

[ Sensing his panic, Kizu leaves behind the massacre with both of them in tow, giving them time to sort themselves out. Leaving ground zero, her thoughts return to the gas and the panic in the boy's warning. For now, she doesn't question the young priest - Viktor called him an exorcist, and Todoroki naturally concluded he was a priest; therefore, Kizu did too.

The omen lumbers forward on great paws, her passing impossible to hide. Easy to follow their trail leads them away from the unholy alley and toward an open part of the town closer to the beach where her ward will be able to use his fire with little consequence.

Todoroki, meanwhile, tries not to let guilt eat tear him down for the burn marks he left on his friend. How... How did he miss the fact that he was on fire?! Even if he wasn't burning hot, he should've known!

Stupified. He stays away with no idea how to break the silence. The thing that finally gets him moving is that cry of pain spilling from his friend who clutches at his head. ]

Allen?!

[ He's on his feet, racing forward. Slips on the shifting muscle beneath Kizu's winter coat as the omen continues to race forward at top speed. He scrambles back up, keeps going until he's at his side. Sets a hand behind his back to steady him, while he searches for a wound.

Was he hit?! ]

What's wrong?!

1/2

[likethelight]

[ Ahaha... people presuming he's a priest? Again? Aaa.. that's so embarrassing... ... Even if it's kind of... true... but not in the sense people think it does!! ... and not anymore... technically...

It's getting worse the further away they're getting though. Like someone screaming louder at thinking they're being forgotten. He's aware of Todoroki calling out to him, but it's dim and as if he's underwater. The hand on his back helps, it feels like a tether back to the world, even if it's so far away. Blood racing hotter and louder in his ears, to the point where he doesn't even realize it's overflowing or that he's crying. One trail salty and saline, and the other pale and milk-like.

He digs his fingers tighter into his scalp, almost to the point of drawing blood.

Why don't you remember. ]

2/2

[likethelight]

[ --and then he takes a breath, and his invocation surges into existence.

The same sort of feathery, winglike cloak from in the catacombs, but it whips up around them into existence with a surge of spiritual force and mass unlike before. Like something that presses down on someone's intangible existence like another set of gravity, or being in the presence of something absolutely massive. Some kind of gentle and intangible weight of grace that smells both electric and wintery. Like thundersnow.

Pulling his hands from his head, he breathes out then. A long, smooth, only shaky towards the very tail end of it exhale, before he turns towards Shouto then. Slowly, fixing one extremely pale eye and one dark as the void to his own mismatched ones, paleblood still coursing freely from his left. It's so inconvenient. That his tears are even blood in a place like this, it's so inconvenient. But that's such a small matter right now. ]

We have to go back. [ It's utterly calm yet, while spoken so very softly, with a shift in demeanor that is urgent and absolutely unyielding too. Gaze flickering across Todoroki's face in a searching and insistent manner. ] -- I need to go back.

[ It's an important clarification, and he leans in with a weight of gentle insistence, mismatched eyes still unwaveringly locked to mismatched eyes. This is important. Please. ]

If no one is there to fight it... [ if he isn't there... ] it's just going to find more people to kill. Something like that--

[ Dead serious, his tone. Gentle, as soft-spoken and delicate as the ethereal down of his cowl, but absolutely dead serious. ]

It could kill everyone in an entire city like it's nothing.

[swellter]

[ Flooded with a curtain of light, he jerks his hand back, away from the feathery wisps of holy cloth.

It's... heavy.

Weight shifting under the massive presence, he loses balance and falls back, palms breaking his fall. Squinting against the luminous cloak, a holy presence looms over him, heavy and insistent, yet warm and welcoming. A dichotomy that leaves him at an impasse. ]

... Allen.

[ Spoken softly; overwhelmed. He's no priest or exorcist to feel at ease with the weight of that grace pressing down on him. The added burden slows his omen's movements, weighted down by holy chains. ]

Allen... what is... that?

[ The answer, when it comes, makes less sense than the massacre they left behind. ]

... Back? You want to go back?

[ Kizu rejects the proposal on the spot and tries to pick up speed.

Todoroki for his part doesn't dismiss the idea outright. Looks back at the priest, catching sight of blood and tears overflowing from his eyes. He's seen this before, the dichotomy of Heaven and Hell.

Still, before he can give him an answer, he needs to know. ]

... Are you going back to kill it?

[likethelight]

[ What is that...?

It's ghostly, and the white and gold masquerade mask that settles gradually as a clasp of sorts at his throat tips to the side at that question. Entirely on its own, as it would seem no movement from Allen or wind made it do that. Some coy or cheeky little twist of an expression.

But, startled, Allen's stopped from answering and his expression flickers when Todoroki asks him that, are you going back to kill it. Looks at him like that, and abruptly the weight in the air shifts and seems to vanish even if his cloak doesn't. As he regains a proper sense of himself and his synchronization, even as his brows knit together as if in some pain at that question. ]

....No. [ It's quiet, and he presses his lips somberly together. ] It isn't alive, but I want to save it. [ Just that. Just that simply, with clear and certain eyes.

Gently and apologetically, he extends his right hand towards the other boy, the one gloved in Innocence. To help him sit back up, if he wants it. ]

It isn't a beast, even if it seems similar... it's an akuma. A living weapon that's made from a human soul. One that's been corrupted and loses itself the more it has to kill. I'm sorry. I think -- [ He realizes he's starting to ramble and stops himself, worrying at his lip. Wonders if it's true, but... realizes it most likely is, and his eyes drop. ]

I think... it must be my fault that it's here. [ His eyes stay downcast and flicker aside briefly; guiltily. ] If it slipped through a crack from my world like others did. [ Which means all those deaths -- what Todoroki just saw and got caught up in so far... ]

I'm sorry. [ It's heavy.

But wallowing won't help anyone so he stops, looking back up at Todoroki then. ]

I'm an exorcist, that's why I have to go back. I have to destroy it. [ It's clear as a bell with that calm sort of urgency again. ]

It's the only way to still save a soul like that.

[swellter]

[ The weight vanishes and he can breathe again. Kizu too, picks up speed, heading for the beach away from the massacre that left him paralyzed and broken. Focused on the priest, he's doing better, but she knows the toll he paid for what little he saw. When she jumped out to save them from the gas, she saw it all in stark clarity, everything he missed. That small glimpse of death still has its claws in him, reshaping his world, tainting it black. She won't have him go back. If they need to fight, then they'll do it at away from that cesspool. Determined to keep him away, she ignores his calls to slow down.

No... but I want to save it.

His eyes fall to that hand wrapped in holy cloth, hesitant to take it. He looks back at Allen who continues to explain about akumas, souls, and exorcists. It's all meaningless to him. He doesn't know his world the same way he does, but he knows that look. The need to protect. The sentiment that drives you past all your limits to save another. That he understands and it's the only thing that matters. Everything else is details.

He takes his hand, and grips it firmly between his fingers. ]

Okay. We'll go back.

[ He sets a hand on his arm and helps him up; back on their feet. ] You're not responsible for the wrongs of your world. This isn't your fault. [ He squeezes his arm, grey and teal locking on grey and red. ]

I'll help you. Only... [ he looks past him to the town ] I don't know how.

I'll get us there. [ Shifts eyes back to him. ] You lead the fight.

[ Don't!

The great head of the leopard snaps around, biting down on their position, but he's in her head as much as she's in his. She hits nothing but ice.

Ice surges beneath his feet rising into the air and plunging down like a rollercoaster, twisting and turning back toward the town as a giant leopard chases after them, attempting to swallow them whole. ]

[likethelight]

[ He hates it, dragging Todroki into it. As grateful as he is when he clasps his arm in return and gets them back to their feet, surprised gratitude stamped on his face, that's still...

We're the same age, you fight too and you're a "Hero" who protects people, but... you've never seen anything like that before, have you?

-- danger. ]

Kizu?! [ He flinches on instinct when she whips around, even if the wall of ice saves them. Before the ice twists under them and lifts them off, and he clings on with his less dangerous hand to Todoroki for balance. Aaa, it's much different when they aren't confined in a place like the catacombs. He can get a lot of height from it.

That said, the effect is also lost on him from the more alarming fact. ]

Why is your omen trying to attack us?! [ That could HAPPEN?

A trail of white smoke peels off him though, easy to mistake as just part of the rippling effects of his cloak. Darting around the ice behind them, it forms first into the regular, grapefruit-sized form of Timcanpy --

-- and then expands drastically, matching Kizu in size and hurtling straight into her open maw like a great golden, growling, slightly squishy ten ton bowling ball. _{Immovable object meets unstoppable force. Bite down on this.} ]

[swellter]

[ Kizu breaks the ice - You can't go back there! - and he makes more - I have too. ]

A disagreement.

[ Focused on generating their escape, he doesn't look back at the giant leopard lumbering behind them, snapping at the makes-shift ice to stop him from going back. ]

She doesn't usually listen to me.

[ Said, as if the notion is the most natural thing in the world. Don't all omens have free reign and do what they want? His does. He's issued a command only once and she listened because their goals aligned. Right now, they don't. Which is too bad. He lets her be so long as he has no issue with it. He has an issue now.

He keeps his grip on Allen in case his maneuvering throws him off-kilter. Busy swerving left, away from those giant jaws, he doesn't see the white smoke peeling off his cloak, but he feels Kizu's 'surprise' behind him which has him snapping his head back long enough to see Tim - Big Tim - hurling toward her. ]

Watch out!

[ The response is automatic, ice coming to a stop in giant concentric circles moving up to eat up their momentum. As they twirl around in tight circles, he watches Kizu disappear, and Tim just keeps flying...?

I'm going to have a talk with that Priest. Worried eyes find her on the ground, back to her regular size, keeping pace at a dead run. Are you sure about this? ]

Yes. [ Mist escapes his mouth as they stand atop a winter wonderland a kilometer above sea-level. It's a bad idea. ] It's the only one we have. [ It's still a bad idea. She ends the conversation, a begrudging feeling of acceptance billowing through their bond. ]

You don't have to attack her. [ He turns to Allen. ] She won't attack us anymore.

[ With his omen settled, he forms a linear path back to the city, hoping to get there before it finds any other victims. ]

[likethelight]

[ Don't worry, Timcanpy isn't someone who can actually attack. Aside from biting occasionally and headbutting to make a point. But he sure makes a great hindrance _{and entrance.}

As soon as he's made his point and the disagreement seems settled, he pops back to normal size and rejoins Allen and Shouto. A bit agitated looking maybe, zigzagging around and snapping his teeth together with a chattering like he's chastising them, but mollified. ]

I wouldn't! [ It's an emphatic as it is surprised, jolted from momentary wonderment at just how high up they are -- or that for a moment Shouto seemed like he was talking to him. ] Tim just wants to protect me... too.

[ --that was it, wasn't it. And he trails off at the realization, going a little quiet for a moment. ]

Todoroki... [ His voice has dropped a little, more serious. Soft, but more burdened. ] ...are you sure about this?

[ His grip tightens for a moment in a way that has nothing to do with needing balance, looking straight ahead as they move back into the city, but mouth working for a moment like in some internal conflict that's only sorrowful. ]

You can just drop me off. It's okay, I'll be fine. [ It's a bit of a blatant lie. It's a level 4, the birth of one. He knows that, he's seen it before. And... he's never been able to defeat one on his own. The last time with another exorcist arguably stronger than him, and just barely. And at great cost. ] Seeing something like that -- fighting something like this...

No one should have to.

[swellter]

She likes Tim. She wouldn't bite him.

[ Hence, she returned to normal size, realizing she was overstepping when another omen found fault with the chase. She understands Tim's need to protect Allen and holds no grudge against him. The priest on the other hand, she finds a little too persuasive.

It's not the tone of voice that keys him into the turmoil curling through his companion, but the grip on his hand tightening out of nowhere. He looks back, long enough to catch the shift in expression.

His brows crease, not understanding the root of the burden painted on his face until Allen keeps going and his own grip tightens, expression going cold at the suggestion. ]

I don't abandon my comrades.

[ Fire flickers across red strands, dying out a few inches from his hair. ]

I'm not running away while it goes after more civilians. I chose to be a Hero. Just because they don't exist here doesn't mean I'll stop being one.

Not you or Kizu or anyone else is going to change my mind. So, tell me what to do or get out of my way.

[likethelight]

[ It's the answer he expected, and it's why he hadn't pushed from the very beginning that it should be his fight alone. After all, up until now hadn't Todoroki always been the one who rushed ahead of even Allen to try and help anyone he could? Far more heroic than he, like it really is baked into his very being, at least in Allen's opinion.

So even if his tone is cold and that last sentence so harsh, Allen smiles lightly at that and looks away. It's bittersweet, but also glad in a sense. Grateful. No, no surprise at all. He's sorry to imply anything else, but he still needed to say it before just dragging someone else into something solely the domain of exorcists. Something that was obviously going to cause a friend a lot of pain, and that so often resulted in death.

Except maybe it isn't just exorcist business -- and thus solely his own business anymore. That's also the reason for his hesitation, having already been in the Trench for so long. ]

...Every time we meet, there's always something terrible happening. [ It's an idle musing, rhetorical and said in that soft and bittersweet manner. Situations like this really are the only ones they seem to meet up under, aren't they?

They really should rectify that later. ]

It can only be destroyed and the soul saved by a weapon like mine. [ Immediately to business. ] By Innocence. Anything else... it can barely touch it. Although I don't know how your ability might work on it, if your ice could crush it... [ Fire -- no. Fire had seemed to give it joy and life when one he'd seen danced in an inferno of its own making. ]

...but it wouldn't save the soul. It would just be lost. But... [ His eyes cast aside again, debating if it's something he should mention. ] If it's the kind I think it is, I've never been able to defeat one on my own before, either. [ It's quieter; not an easy admission, and entirely not because of any pride. ] It's hard, trying to pierce through its corrupted shell.

If you can help restrict its movements... I'll have a better chance at that.

But you can't let it hit you. [ His tone drops slightly, more sober and blunter to emphasize how direly serious he is. ] Its blood has a virus, and it can make bullets from it. If one even grazes you... it'll kill you within seconds.

[ He's quiet for a moment after that, thinking. And the arm around Shouto to hold on softens slightly, his grip gentler at considering something, and his shoulders drop a little. ]

...Promise me that after this, we'll find something fun to do. Something we can talk about and enjoy. [ Quietly said still, like this is a sober and important thing, and he smiles lightly again. Sad-sweet, trying to look back and catch his eye. ]

When the world feels dark, it can help to have something to look forward to.

1/2

[swellter]

[ He's trained to become a hero all his life. It's why he was conceived. A notion he wrestled with for years until he threw off his father's expectations and allowed himself to want things of his own accord, even if those things lined up with Endeavor's wishes. Watching All-Might rescue people with a golden smile of the age, he became enamored with him, a hero whose presence put others at ease, the opposite of Endeavor, who terrorized his family for his own ambitions. He worked hard to forge his own path forward, separate from the legacy his father wanted. Found meaning in his brand of heroism and even allowed himself to gravitate toward field medicine, adding medical supplies to his costume to ease the pain of others when violence was no longer needed.

Allen's answer, when it comes, eases him back to neutral waters. Ebbing away from the fire, his thoughts settle and he meets that sentimental thought with his own - completely missing the sentiment. ]

That's my fault. Whenever I'm involved, something bad always happens.

I'm cursed. [ Serious. ] Your hand might get injured if we keep working together.

[ Yes, he is very serious. He also knows Allen's resolve; it's the same as his own. He knows he won't persuade him to find someone else even if he warns him about this curse, not with the time they already lost, so it comes as no surprise when he gets straight to business and lets the subject drop. ]

I keep it busy with my ice, and you attack with your weapon. [ He summarizes, noting the fact that he never mentioned-- ] What about my fire?

[ Focused on him, he notices when he starts to doubt himself. He knows what kind of doubts can come during a briefing before a battle, and sets a hand on his shoulder to remind him he's not alone. ] If the shell is hard to pierce, I'll help you smash through it with my ice.

[ There's a reason his quirk is considered one of the most versatile aside from Yaoyorozu, who can create anything from her body. ]

Understood. [ The bullets don't frighten him. He's faced off against worse. ] I've dealt with a similar situation back home. [ Shigaraki's quirk allowed him to decay anything he touched, including people. ] I won't let the bullets touch me.

2/2

[swellter]

[ He assures him, not quite sure how to address that last request. It seems out of place; odd. Like his expression: quiet, soft, and sad. His shoulders slump and Shouto shakes him a little growing worried. ]

... Allen?

[ Why does he look so sad when he smiles?

Promise me...

His thoughts cease before they have a chance to fully form, caught up by his momentum the more he speaks.

When the world feels dark, it can help to have something to look forward to.

Oh...

Touched by the sentiment, he lets go of his shoulder and steps back to really look at him. Not the holy cloak or demon hand. Cursed eye. Or anything else about him that fools the senses including that smile.

Locking eyes with him, he answers. ] I promise.

1/2

[likethelight]

[ ??? Cursed?

Todoroki, you get... such a baffled look from Allen at that dead-serious statement, wondering for a moment if he forget he's literally cursed. And he's worried his... hand might get crushed... that's... ]

2/2

[likethelight]

[ ...he laughs at that. In truly good spirits. ]

Then it's a good thing I can restore my own hand if it's broken, isn't it? [ The absolute irony of that statement, Todoroki. It utterly refreshes him. As does the matter of fact way he processes everything Allen tells him in such an even and calm manner. It helps ease Allen's own nerves of someone who isn't an exorcist joining in such a fight. ]

I don't know about fire... I don't think so. [ Lavi's would, but it wasn't normal fire. It still came from Innocence. But then, Shouto's isn't exactly regular fire either. Still: ] I've seen them in fire before, and they only seem to enjoy it. But...

[ His expression softens when Todoroki steps back to look at him though, a little surprised by how intently he's looking at him. Like he's trying to look straight through to him. It's -- ...it's how Lenalee would look at him sometimes. Straight past whatever smile he tried to put on. (Lenalee, who... aah. He'd even forgotten most of her for all these months too, even everything he'd promised... It squeezes his chest in an awful, heavy and painful sort of way.)

But he blinks at that quiet sort of answer -- before smile he does, cocking his head slightly to the side. But not the same as before. ]

Mn, I'm glad. [ It's a smile that's fragile as glass, but also so truly happy too. Effervescent. ]

I promise too.

[swellter]

[ Allen's laugh harkens back to the first time he made his thoughts known about the curse to both Modoriya and Iida. They laughed too thinking he was joking. He wasn't. Isn't. Thrice now, he's had the same reaction and wants to plead his case, but Allen is in such high spirits while heading toward death, he's unwilling to dampen his mood. ]

It... is. [ Hesitantly. Why doesn't anyone ever believe him? Is it... part of the curse...? ]

[ Tactics are easier to digest. Familiar with brainstorming a plan on the fly with different quirks involved against an unknown foe, he's quick to adapt to every new piece of information, even if it means using half of his quirk - he's used to it. ]

My ice is stronger anyways. I'll use my fire to maneuver, not attack.

[ What comes after is not all that unfamiliar now that he's allowed himself to have friends. These brief moments after a brainstorming session. The ones filled by better people than him who joked and smiled; promising tomorrow.

Allen does too in his own way. A bright smile, delicate like spun glass, he's afraid to respond for fear of breaking it inadvertently. So, he nods instead, stretching the moment as far as it'll go.

One. Two. Maybe three seconds before Kizu warns him of the city limits. He looks past Allen, his ice still generating beneath them at a rapid pace. He slows down, moving with more caution as they approach ground zero. ]

[likethelight]

[ Oh, no, he absolutely figures Todoroki isn't joking. His demeanor was far too frank for even a poker face. And that's honestly what made him laugh and appreciate it as he did: that it was so genuine, that ironic concern. How could he not be fond of that?

Unfortunately, it's short lived. They're arriving back at the area, and Allen's demeanor quickly sobers. The smell has returned, and this time he keeps both an eye ahead and one on Shouto as well. To take in his reaction this time and not make the same mistake as before.

To offer a quick, reassuringly firm and grounding squeeze of the hand with his one good one if it looks like his emotions might falter.

Especially when they get close enough to see the broken remains of the akuma's previous evolution, the arms that had been pulling their way from its eyeball had morphed into various staged of half-formed other, more humanoid creatures. Stacking up upon themselves like tortured monsters reaching towards the sky, frozen and statuesque, until the giant statue of a fully human woman finally peels upward and out of them. Bent backward with her arms now limp behind her like a grotesque sacrifice to the moon above --

-- and her swollen belly shattered open, empty save for smoke pouring from it. ]

It's already been born... [ It's murmured uneasily, and even someone like Allen sounds unsettled by it. He didn't know how long it might take; he'd missed that part before. But he tenses suddenly, head snapping to look towards the base of the statue's legs.

Nothing yet in sight, but not even a fraction of a second later... there's an eerie, disconnected giggling. ]

[swellter]

[ Take the high ground. Kizu commands in a tone that has him accepting her condition without quarrel when the scent of something rotten hits his nose. He breathes through his mouth, ignoring the smell and the look from his companion. ]

Kizu is staying on the ground this time.

[ He answers in turn, keeping his eyes trained ahead. When they reach the epicenter, he takes his time to slowly peer down at the carnage below, catching sight of that shattered belly amid the devastation.

He looks away within a few seconds, rattled by the sight, but keeps his quirk in check this time. He feels a comforting squeeze, returns it, but doesn't try to look down again. ]

The Akuma?

[ He focuses on their enemy instead of the corpses, focusing on what he can achieve. In answer, a tittering sound between eerie and human echoes through the air, sending him on high alert.

He lets go of Allen's hand, stepping back to a sturdier posture searching for the sound while Kizu tries to sniff it out. ]