[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

ashes fall from burning dreams; Sansa

[likethelight]

[ Hundreds of dancing lights get scattered into the air as one of the gentle behemoth butterflies takes flight, kicking up dust and lights both as it slowly begins to ascend, trailing back up through the mist to join its brethren. And with a fluttering of what sounds like both fabric and feather, another faintly luminescent figure drops down. With huge cloak almost as voluminous as the butterfly's wingspan trailing behind him like tattered wings, leaving a small scattering of feathers in the air like shards of light. It swirls about a little from how he had just leapt up and whipped it 'round himself.

He lands next to Sansa, as light on his feet as a cloud. His feathery cloak also seems to fold in on itself as he does so, because a much more manageable and expected size. And he gives her bright, gentle sort of smile as he holds up a hand -- the one that's human and is gloved in intangible white, as opposed to the claw that's now his other -- and lets one of the orbs of hope drift silently into his palm. ]

We should be able to collect a lot of these. [ And either return them to the affected people they came from or, in his case certainly, bring an extremely overfull sack back to Viktor to study.

Spooking the butterflies that do land away by becoming a bigger-seeming and more aggressive one? Yep. Lesson learned the hard way; this is better than trying to safely destroy the ones that get too close to people. This way no one has to get hurt. ]

love will find you in your pain; Kokichi (CW: horrible things happening to children)

[likethelight]

[ For one of the busier intersections in the Trench, it's so very silent right now. Dozens of people all standing so very perfectly still and all turned in one direction, beholding one of the Moonlit Butterflies who's landed in their midst. It bats its wings slowly, spread wide as little dots of light drift up from each person into its wings and collect there, increasing its shine.

—maybe Kokichi is under their spell as well. Maybe not.

One of them though, a little girl held fast with childlike awe turned trance keeps walking forward. With a giggle of pure wonder, even as it continues to drain her -- she puts her hands flat against the side of the resting butterfly, feeling its slightly fuzzy body. ]

—! [ A streak of movement, the only movement in the square, partially collides with Kokichi in the crowd, clipping his shoulder. And he'd shout an apology under normal circumstances, the boy, except he's in a flat-out run towards the girl.

(As he bumps into him, the other boy might notice a sudden flare of luminescent white, so very similar to that of the butterfly's, and a scent that's wintery and thin, ozone. Like snowflakes and lightning—or magic.)

And he makes it to her! Dropping down and skidding in like some black and moonlit-clad player sliding into a home plate, cloak whipping out behind him, he scoops the enchanted child up, even as the green light in her eyes fades and becomes dark.

Except she... bubbles.

A little at first, like giant skin blisters. And then almost doubling in size as he begins to come to a stop with her in his arms. Burbling up higher and taller in a gross disfigurement and sudden, shrill sort of uncanny scream as her body contorts and shifts.

The butterfly takes flight, abandoning its collection as it quickly wings away from the danger—and the white-haired boy is left staring in absolute horror at the small, alien beast the girl has become still cradled in his arms.]

like the beating of life in my veins; Shouto (CW: child death)

[likethelight]

[ It probably started as a foreboding sense. That uneasy sort of animal instinct where you know something's wrong; something's about to happen.

First, a whispering in your head. A faint buzzing before some words might begin to form; a hiccupping noise like a child's sob. A whimper, directionless at first but, as you look around, you would start to realize what direction it comes from.

"...Why?"
"It hurts..."
"M-mommy?"

Looking around, you might catch a faint glittering in the dark; easy to see in the permanent night of April. It's coming from blood on the ground just inside one of the alleys on the street, pale glitters around it that might make one think it's paleblood even when it becomes apparent it's not. But from where? Who?

(Forbidden blood. The slain innocents.)

There's no source in sight, but there are streaks along the ground like someone had been dragged. The whispering gets louder, and the faint glittering surrounding the blood continues to lead you on. Further back in, finally you can see a small pile of clothes on the ground. They aren't moving.

"It's cold..." ]

2. If your heart cries

[sparkknight]

[Klee is snapped out of her stupor as she sees a white haired teen destroy a butterfly. For a moment, she thinks it's Benny, but she remembers that he isn't in here. The boy, apart from the white hair, doesn't look like him with the long coat and the large sword. At first, she starts walking over thank him from saving her, but stops in horror as he transforms. The transformation looks awful as the boy underneath looks like he's in pain. Klee let's out a yelp and manages not to tumble over as the wing misses her head. That could have hurt her.

Klee is utterly terrified, but the boy turned into the monster because of her. As scared as she is, she needs to help him. Summoning Dodoco, she clutches the bomb in her pocket before the bottle knocks against her fingers. Wait, her present! Maybe it can help him. With a determined look on her face, she shakes her head. Dodoco, now in a more large fox like form, snatched Klee up onto her back. Bombs at the ready. It won't be easy, but she going to try to info this. If not, find someone who can help. ]

N-no. Klee's going to help you Mister.

Dodoco! [Her Omen leaps back and turns to run ]

( 2 )

[danserai]

[ stay back. mytho had said the same thing when he was under the power of raven's blood. ahiru couldn't shake the parallels. gripping her pendant, she quickly transforms to princess tutu. music starts to play in the background as she slowly approaches allen. ]

Will you dance with me?

[dohaeris]

[she can't help but smile back, though killing the butterflies makes her feel awful. it's not fair that they're so beautiful and gentle-seeming when they do so much damage. it feels like killing a dragon. not all the dragons were so pretty, and none so gentle in manner, but at least dragons could be taught not to hurt people.]

It's strange to think about having somebody else's hope. People can hope for such different things.

[she holds knight on a short leash as he bows to gleaming green-eyed citizens one at a time. Some of them press small colorful rocks and beads into sansa's hand by way of thanks. she demurs when she can, but many of them make their way into her satchel. it's funny, she thinks. the people who stole her hope had green eyes.

a murmur grows through the crowd. another massive bright bubble is falling somewhere behind her. lady circles around to face it, and sansa glances over her shoulder. she squints. there is a castle shaped like a dragon, curled around a mountain. and there seem to be dragons in the distance.]

Is that...Dragonstone?

[she knows other worlds have dragons. perhaps they also have dragon castles on volcanic islands? it's not like she knows what dragonstone looks like, except on a map, or old drawings. besides, all the dragons are long gone, and she doesn't know if the bubbles ever show (or mimic) scenes from the past.]

omg I totally forgot it's a canon ping for her

[likethelight]

[ Teeth grit at first against what feels like competing monsters waging war inside him, it almost so very comical how she seems to startle him out of that struggle, clarity coming to his face from the shock of it. Of all the things he thought she would counter with, of every possible response...

That one leaves him absolutely dumbfounded. Her transformation in front of him notwithstanding.

(Somehow it's... soothing, too. The inexplicable music he couldn't even think to question, and the rage of the wings streaming off him begins to quiet.)

Will he.. what? Ahiru...? ]

Dance...?

[likethelight]

[ The little girl from the boardwalk...? His heart twists and he feels sick, the panic and despair written plainly on his face as he realizes he almost hurt her. Even Klee, who he had wanted to protect from that thing--

It seems to feed the chaos pouring off of him, the feather-like shards peeling off those monstrous wings nicking his own cheek and drawing a small amount of blood that glows a pale white under the April moon. ]

Klee... [ She's impossible to forget, even if it's been months. Even if he probably looks so strange now, the competing dualities of white and black energy clinging to and threatening to consume his body. Black from his left seeping into white like a spreading poison; white pushing back in a wild sort of rage.

But he's rooted. He's rooted to the spot and can't even take the time to flee from her from how hard he has to concentrate and fight against the corruption threatening to take over him. If he tried, he'd be consumed in an instant. Flinching and having to double over again as if in pain, he presses his palms tight against his skull as if pleading with something to stop. ]

It isn't safe-- [ it's a raspy breath, tight in his throat ] please...

[likethelight]

[ While Sansa went among the people and helped to cleanse their corruption with Knight, Allen lets his invocation go and sets to collecting what scattered orbs of hope before they start to drift upwards again. It's a good division of labor, and he smiles a little at watching the three of them move through the affected crowd. ]

That's true. [ And she gets a thoughtful sort of hum from him. ] But if there's one intrinsically sort of human thing... I think it must be hope.

[ Truth be told, he isn't entirely sure how he feels to jar hope. But it doesn't seem to take it from others once it's already in this form, and it helps those who have lost it and started to become corrupt. That has to be good enough for now.

Still, his thoughts are interrupted before they can get any further when the murmur comes over the crowd, and he blinks at seeing one of the golden bubbles falling like a star. A portal--

His guard is up, just from his experiences thus far with them. And he begins to approach it, casting Sansa a surprised look that she seems to recognize the place. ]

Dragonstone? [ Did she mean as... a material? Or that castle? It was a castle, wasn't it? Embedded in the mountain? Except...

He stops, staring and suddenly rather awestruck. ]

Are those... dragons? [ Gold and misty white, circling in what seems like distant dance.

Or... combat? ]

[dohaeris]

[his response makes her smile. she thinks about the people she's met that aren't human, and wonders if hope is something humans experience more than other people, and considers saying something to that effect, but there are dragons. she peers at them.]

They certainly look like dragons, and it does look like what I know of Dragonstone. There were dragons on Dragonstone on my world a long time ago, but I have heard of other worlds with dragons.

[the dragons appear to be getting closer. she motions for everyone to step back, just in case.]

[sparkknight]

[That voice! Dodoco turns around to face him. She remembers it now. It was that boy who spit all over her that one time, but apologize for doing that. He was super nice afterwards and helped her get everything to dry off again. Klee now knows she can't leave him and can't let him stay like this at all. She's scare, but won't walk away.

Gripping the bottle in her pocket, she shakes her head. Underneath her, she can feel Dodoco's agitation and holding back a growl before it goes away. Klee can feel the shock from her Omen as the boy turned monster writhe in pain. His pain and holding back only strength her resolve. She feels Dodoco's previous reluctance disappear and resolve to hell.

Klee may be scared, but she's taken down hordes of monsters all by herself. Even of those wings are scarier than a whole bunch of Ruin Hunters or Rift Wolves. She can and will help him because otherwise someone might do worse. As a Knight, she can't walk away from someone in need. ]

No, Klee is going to help you. You're hurting!

[She'd do the same for her friends from back home and the new ones she made here. Klee can almost feel the bottle approve of her actions. ]

[violetlies]

[Still as the grave. That's a good way to describe what everything felt like right now. There's a silence that could be broken with a pin drop, and Kokichi is in the middle of it. For someone who is known for being a loudmouth at the worst of times, even he can't manage a word. All these people are entranced - entranced by the big creature in front of them.

Kokichi might've been, too, if he hadn't gotten a taste of what these things could do firsthand before he got away. Even now he can hear the opening notes of Clair De Lune in an inviting hum, but he doesn't dare look. His eyes instead scan across the crowd, and he sees a little girl making her way forward. Immediately, his breath catches in his throat.

Oh no.

But before he could manage to do anything himself, there's someone else - another boy around his age - bolting for the girl in a flash of white. A white coat that flumes out giving the impression of perhaps an angel. And he makes it to the little girl and starts pulling her away, and Kokichi is almost relieved....

Until the girl starts bubbling and blistering, and she doubles in size, and he himself stumbles back as the butterfly takes flight. Well. One threat gone, but now--

The little girl...she's turned into a beast. He'd read about turning into a beast in the library while he was putting himself through his paces learning everything there was to learn about Trench in his first couple of days. It's what most would call a worst case scenario. And his heart sinks.

He's reminded of the younger quazi-members of DICE, the ones he refused to consider full-blown members because they couldn't do the actual work, and moreso because he never wanted them to be in danger. The ones that'd tug at his cape, looking up at him with big bright eyes, somehow still filled with wonder despite the circumstances that probably led him to his 'organization'.

Kokichi had a remarkable grip on his emotions, but even he can't help himself from feeling infuriated at the notion of a wasted young life because of the hellish circumstances of this place.

But what is he supposed to do? The other boy has her, and he's not trained for combat. He wouldn't want to hurt her, anyway. Someone would. But he wasn't violent by nature, and he'd especially be inclined to show mercy in this case.]

...

[So he's stuck there, looking with worried eyes. As the other civilians fall out of their trances and start running away - running for their lives - Kokichi remains. Is that other boy going to--no. He doesn't want that to happen, but it's illogical to believe anything else would happen.]

hahaha

[danserai]

[ she smiles, so soft, cloaked in ethereal light. she doesn't seem like the clumsy duck or the enthusiastic girl. she feels like a song come to life, washing over your senses. ]

If we dance together, we can make our feelings known.

[likethelight]

[ .....?????????????????????

She is. So stupefying. He is so stupefied. And yet... he's calmed by it, somehow. The gentle presence she exudes is -- so different. His posture relaxes slightly, straightening a little as the turbulent white and black energy continues to wane with his corruption. His eye no longer swirls, though it remains an almost demonic-looking black and red.

It's ironic. She feels like his own Innocence, that light and that presence coming from her. An ethereal delicateness -- if only he could see himself from that perspective enough to realize that.

(Though it is familiar, somewhere in the back of his mind. That gentleness.)

But he takes a step... slightly backward? Just a half pace, leaning his weight back on his heel. But uncertainly? ]

I... don't really know how, though.

[ Except a little bit as a clown when a child... ]

[danserai]

[ she comes closer, on tip toes. her hand remains outstretched, a quiet offer. ]

That is all right. Your feelings will guide you.

[likethelight]

[ ....?????

Is this... real? _{He's pretty sure it isn't. It really, really isn't. A dream? Yeah, no... It really feels more like a dream. Yeah. Or... he really has lost his mind and she's his hallucination.}

He is so very confused. Right damn near out of his own corruption, almost comically so. But he reaches out, taking a step forward hesitant and...

...taking her hand? ]

[danserai]

[ once his hand is in hers, the light seems to shine down them. like they're actors in their private little play. she leads him forward, one leg raised up. ]

Tell me. What feelings are troubling you right now?

[likethelight]

[ Once he takes her hand in his own Innocence-gloved white, a luminous ethereal white material not unlike moonlight -- that's when it feels like he can finally breath. When the voices in his head quiet and don't scream so loud; when the pleading fades away to a background cry.

It's gentle. Cleansing. ... And just like his own.

So it's a little awestruck, his expression, as he follows her and marvels at the difference in her and shear unreality. A small stumble at first, just because he didn't know what to expect, but -- he is ever light on his feet, almost like a cloud when it comes to catching himself. Quite naturally graceful as a natural and incredibly practiced acrobat -- it's just hard to know what to expect to do next here.

The feathered edges of his cloak swish just behind his boots, but it's calmed now and behaves more like a cloak should. The gold and white winged masquerade mask nestled at his throat now among the sentient rustling of his downy cowl. ]

I -- [ The question catches him entirely off-guard, even if she had already said that before.

Partially because it's something he so always squirrels out of. ]

I don't know. I-- [ Should he... raise their hands up slightly? it seems like something he should do, stepping around to the side of her, a little closer, as he does so. Like in some strange, timeless sort of moment. ]

...why are you doing this? [ It's -- almost fragile, his voice. Fragile and caught both. You endangered yourself to help him. ]

[danserai]

[ she extends her arms with his in a curt port de bras before moving into an enchainment. her movements were slow, as if to take him along this journey but never making a step without his subconscious permission. they were dancing together, not apart. ]

Because I care about you. And I see your feelings locked inside of you. Causing you pain. Causing you hurt.

Our feelings should not become a prison to hold us in. They should be wings to set us free.

1/2

[likethelight]

[ It's funny, because it's a similar thing he trips up on. Given that he doesn't mean just humans, but when he's tied so much of his identity around a love of "humanity"... it leaves it hard to find other words to say what he wants. Even if so obviously non-humans who have compassion are included in that. ]

There were? [ Other worlds with dragons -- well yes when faced with that, he... of course that makes sense even if he hadn't thought about it before? But that there were dragons in her world, she gets a rather awestruck look for that. That's amazing, actually!

(Fanboy? Slightly.)

But Sansa has her work cut out for her a little, as the whispering and murmuring crowd backs up but does still want to watch as the world through this portal looks so beautiful. It's three steps back and then bunching and pressing in tighter while craning to see. And Allen...

Allen steps closer, a mesmerized sort of expression not unlike those caught in the butterfly's effect as he watches the two beasts swoop and spiral as they rapidly come closer, one breathing golden fire at while it wrest out of the way and spat an answering white in return. Like someone beholding a great painting in a museum. ]

I think they're getting closer... [ And they-- ]

2/2

[likethelight]

[ -- are.

Alarmingly fast, the grey-white one is suddenly in a headlong rush towards the portal. Blood pouring from numerous gashes on its body, it beats its wings with a single-minded determination seemingly straight at the Waking World. But even knowing what the portals are, it wouldn't even seem something possible. So suddenly an obviously large creature heading towards such a small entrance, even if the portals -- windows, really -- could feel so large to a person. How could it possibly fit, after all?

But portals that bend space and time itself don't follow conventional laws of reality. And as the dragon would appear to perhaps just skim overhead the view of that window -- it ruptures into existence instead. Surging upward and outward in rapidly increasing size to its full form as it rockets suddenly into the air above the street with a deep

full-bodied

roar.

One in confusion and rage, and there is an answering outraged scream on the other side of the portal as the golden one peels off and is no longer in sight. And Allen --

He's knocked clear back and off his feet by the sudden rush of air and heavy, massive wingbeats that press the air down on everyone in the area like a sudden blow. ]

[dohaeris]

[sansa smiles, watching the dragons, thinking of queen alysanne's dragon silverwing and her mate. but it quickly becomes apparent something's wrong; she doesn't know that silverwing was so very much smaller than vermithor, and the grey dragon is flying quite frantically; there's something odd and vicious about the gold one, and as it gets closer she could almost see madness in its eyes, and she remembers.

sansa hadn't grown up dreaming of riding a dragon like many highborn children, but she had never had reason to fear them, exactly. she was proud of her prudent ancestor, torrhen stark, the king who knelt and saved his men from a fate like the field of fire. she hadn't looked for dragon eggs in the crypts like her siblings, but she'd imagined what the handsome lost prince jacerys might look like as he rode his dragon away from winterfell. dragons had never haunted her nightmares, except for one.

the mad dragon of the false king, who had eaten the rightful queen and instilled a deep loathing in her son and heir. sunfyre, who had announced his return to dragonstone by killing and eating the grey ghost. a little grey dragon, such as the one who seems to be bleeding and frantically beating its wings. she lifts her voice and begins walking forward. the crowd responds accordingly. lady barks and runs back and forth like a sheepdog, herding the crowd away from the portal.]

Everyone get back! Please, step back! Ser Allen will keep you safe, but you must get back!

[she glances back at the approaching dragon, and then again at the crowd.]

Are there any coldblood mages among you? Anyone that can handle fire? You will be all right, I promise you! You just have to listen to me!

[likethelight]

[ At another time, in an entirely different sort of situation, he might blush that anyone would ever call him "ser". And be filled near to bursting with the sort of fanboyish gentlemanly pride of someone who idolizes that sort of thing.

But this is not that time and Allen picks himself up quickly, re-invoking his Innocence on instinct as he rolls back up to his feet and, for a moment, can only stare upward at the sight that's an adult dragon in reality. Full size and massive within a city street, even if still bearing a lithe and slender sort of appearance unlike the larger golden one in the portal.

But it's in a panic, suddenly finding itself entirely not where it was, possibly still being chased, and suddenly around so many other creatures. So it lurches, catching the air in its wings and trying to beat upward to gain its bearings and leave --

--and slamming directly into one of the moonlit butterflies that are so slow-moving that they cannot move quickly out of the way and float in the air like a series of cloud-like air mines. It tears it apart in a rage and panic, snapping its teeth through it as it plows through it and ahead. Even if it makes a strange, gutteral sort of pained growl as it does so and tries again to rise.

A second. A third.

It tears through the overhead migration of butterflies, beginning to fade from human sight for a moment between its own natural coloration and the low-hanging fog that covers the city. But Allen, still caught in watching the display -- startles suddenly.

He whips around, his left eye bleeding black throughout the sclera and leaving it transformed. His iris now a glowing red as he throws an arm out in warning and shouts to Sansa and the scattering crowd. With an entirely different demeanor, a harsh and grim panic in the manner that's I'm afraid for you

this is bad. ]

Get back! It's --

[ -- corrupted itself.

It's obvious as the dragon -- Grey Ghost -- plummets back to ground like a thrown stone. Landing awkwardly and hard into the street, cracking the pavement beneath it and causing a building on one side to rubble inward as it skids into it. But it's still conscious, lurching as it finds its feet again, pushes itself upright on the knuckles of its wings--

And turns towards Allen and the crowd behind him. Moving slowly and deliberately as its eyes focus and unfocus, taking in the people with a different sort of low, predatory rumble in its chest. A different sort of light in its eyes, rippling a deep, blackish red--

Madness. ]

[swellter]

[ It's scary... hurts... home... want to go home.

The voices of the fallen lead him to the alley. Blood splatters the ground, glittering faintly in the dark. Not Paleblood. Crueler. Steadying himself for what's to come, Todoroki follows the streaks of forbidden blood down the stone alley to the end.

Piled high are torn clothes, small shoes; a broken world. Goosebumps break across his skin and he drops down to the ruins of innocence. Quietly, he touches a small glove, lifting it from the mass grave, heart breaking.

... please... don't go... ]

I'm... sorry.

[dohaeris]

[and everywhere the dragons danced, the people died. sansa had not been taught to fear dragons, but she had been told how dangerous they could be. lady barks frantically, darting back and forth. sansa begins to run, too.]

Everybody back! We need to clear the buildings! Winter--

[her white raven omen swoops in from nowhere. she addresses it.]

Tell everyone to leave their houses. By the back way, if they're able. Go!

[she pulls her hound knight with her, chasing the small crowd away from the dragon, and waving forward the people they pass.]

Everyone, with me! It will be all right, if only we get far enough away. Are there any coldblood mages? Anyone who can handle fire? With me! Ser Allen is very skilled in cleansing corruption. He can save this dragon. It won't hurt you. Coldblood mages, watch for fire. You're safe with me! At least two more blocks. With me, everyone!

[her padded gown and leather armor are quite warm, but easy to run in. her satchel is harder to manage, sliding down her arm each time she lets it go to wave more people forward, but it's not as heavy as it could be. at least she has her boots on.]