Dabi (荼毘) (
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deercountry2022-04-10 02:05 pm
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[Open] 🚬 April Flames
Who: Dabi & others
What: April Catch-All
When: Various
Where: April
Content Warnings: Scenes and mentions of domestic / child abuse, some body horor and monstrous transformations, violence, adult language, topics of patricide and fratricide
Notes: General and specific starters will be below. Contact under cut.
If you want to hit me up for ideas on prompts or plots, feel free to comment on Dabi's plotting post, hit me up on my contacts – Plurk (
StarSeed69) / Discord (StarSeed#3572) – shoot me a PM, or drop an ooc comment down below, and we’ll hash it out. I'm down to write a unique starter for our threads if you prefer.
What: April Catch-All
When: Various
Where: April
Content Warnings: Scenes and mentions of domestic / child abuse, some body horor and monstrous transformations, violence, adult language, topics of patricide and fratricide
Notes: General and specific starters will be below. Contact under cut.
If you want to hit me up for ideas on prompts or plots, feel free to comment on Dabi's plotting post, hit me up on my contacts – Plurk (
PART 1 ▶ Butterflies
kill me; that's a wing. a butterfly wing. and it's enormous. akin to a lunar moth from his homeworld. drifting orbs of light seem to spill from the gossamer spreads with each leisurely flap.pull... something's pulling at him... sapping something from him...
how long? how long has he been staring at this thing? doesn't know but dabi's aware of it all of a sudden. not sure what, not sure why, but the feeling of being called by something other than himself, immediately flares up a bloom of pride and anger inside him that has him jerking away from the window. fuck... it's not the first time he's dealt with some alluring image or illusion. mental note: everything here is dangerous in its own way, so reminder, don't fucking treat anything as benign unless proven otherwise. not that dabi's one to trust something or someone. ever. it's a fast lesson, but one he learns quickly. always had been fast on the uptake, even if he taunts sometimes that he's not. don't stare at the butterflies. unless he wants to be caught up in their spell.
it'll be another hour before he goes outside. casting a few glances upward, he notes and counts the presence of those creatures. they don't seem aggressive (butterflies) but the glowing wings and trailing orbs remain ever calling in their sight. hm... well he's not going to be experimenting for himself, but perhaps if he wanders into someone who looks gullible enough to serve as a decent test subject... or he walks right into the opportunity of seeing another staring up at the butterflies above.
a decent person would try to snap them from their transfixed gaze. dabi is not a decent person. he opts to stand nearby in the shadows and watch the stranger for a while, wanting to see what happens. it can't be anything good, considering that drain he felt earlier.]
pulse
it hurts. right in the chest. pain's a rarity for him, requiring something deliberate or forceful to really get dabi's torched nerves to respond to such a feeling. but this one hurts. catching him off guard enough his back hits the wall and a leg braces to the ground in effort the stand. what the... anger and surprise run through his head. did someone shoot him? dabi pulls his hand free of his shirt, jerks his head down to stare at his chest. there's... nothing. and yet the pain's blooming inside him, spilling into emotions that claw and sink into his head. bringing back memories, pulling out even more of those raw emotions that have already consumed him.
monster... beast... demon...
dabi's knees hit the ground, one hand pressing to the rock below, other clutching to his chest. active thought wipes out of his mind and he lurches forward in the mouth of the alley, half bathed in the glowing light of scattered orbs and the moon above. blood. is it blood? it's wet, sticky, almost like tar, spills from his mouth, drips of it clinging to his lips. more of it, puked out with each lurch of his stomach and shoulders. feels like he's emptying out everything, from food to blood to his own goddamn organs. throw himself up inside out. slick plasters onto his hand, searches once or twice before skewering into a vein. flows backwards up inside, crawling into his arm and immediately branches out into the sinew under his skin. it pulses like worms beneath his flesh, writhing and snaking towards his back. a cycle of himself, vomiting more of the fluid that's so eager to plunge right back into him through his flesh. what had been his lithe and slender muscles suddenly swell and pulse, shoving against his shoulder as they bulk into an unnatural size compared to the rest of his arm. but that's quick to follow, bloating from bicep to elbow to forearm.
surge
the entire inter webbed mess abruptly catches flame, exploding through the alley like a fire out of control. crawls upward into the sky, a beacon that outshines the moon for blocks. before finally fading. one dark hand catches onto the edge of the building and the man pulls himself forward. off his knees, onto his feet. each pulse of his heat sends a visceral throb of blood through his blackened skin, hard to make out of it's some skintight costume or his flesh itself inked over. towering, far above six feet high, muscular and bulky to a degree it'd be likely to snap a spine with a hug. and the flames licking off its back, covering its face and hair, dark blue and hot enough to threaten to melt the ground around him. to some, he might look like some kind of villain from a comic book, to others a vicious anti-hero. but to touya todoroki, this corrupted version of his hero father, endeavor, was the pinnacle of the most wretched monster or beast ever fathomable in his mind.
all he knew how to do was destroy. that's all endeavor ever did. imposing his will and prizing his ambitions over everything else. the building beside him goes up in violent flames immediately. this place, this whole world, can burn to ash.]
2 i need to tl;dr initially too bc holy shit
Seeing the butterfly that had landed in the distance... he had been so close to getting to it first maybe. Maybe if was still willing to destroy them, but after a few close calls and realizing he could fall into beasthood and become a danger himself from how overwhelming the sudden spike of corruption could be, he'd taken to buffeting and chasing them away to find somewhere less populated with his own voluminous, luminous appearance.
Maybe if he'd been still willing to take that risk and hesitated less, it could have gone differently.
But that it was gone in a single snap of his fingers, cremated in almost an instant in such a disturbingly easy display of power that honestly has him unnerved... It takes Allen a moment to even realize it was Dabi, standing off to the side at the mouth of the alley like he was. Even when he does, he has to stare for a moment, realizing from his posture, the way he looked at that drifting ash, that he was the only one in the area who hadn't seen transfixed by the butterfly's effect -- that man, really? That kind of fire like it was absolutely nothing?
He doesn't even realize it's corruption at first that's taken hold of him, when he falls to the grounds and begins to vomit his very essence up. Doesn't realize it's the transformation process of becoming a beast; everyone's is different.
And he hasn't seen a Sleeper turn yet. ]
Wait! [ so of course he'd try to rush to the older man, of course. of course he'd try to reach out for his shoulder, even struck in horror by what he's seeing, if it is corruption then he can-- ] Are you --
[ And then he's blown off his feet as the body ignites. The heat of it making the still-tight skin on the lower half of his face that hasn't fully recovered yet feel painfully seared, the part that wasn't protected and got burned when he was with Todoroki in the catacombs.
Staggering up slowly a moment later, his stomach drops as he sees first one... then a second massive fist grip the alleyway entrance and peel a giant of a... no, it almost feels wrong to call it a beast. A half dragon looking man-beast apparently, as rock begins to look molten under its feet.
The irony, and he curses slightly that the timing is terrible.
He gets to ignite that one building. That one building, which is enough to galvanize Allen out of his horror. And so the first thing that this beast-Dabi might realize is what seems such a very delicate-looking strand of luminescent ribbon whip out circling around one of his arms like a sentient sort of creature flying in loops around it... and then binding tight. Strangely tight, with a supernatural sort of strength as there's a yank on the tether. Though certainly it's not enough to even begin to budge someone of that mass even a tiny amount.
And on the other end of it some distance away, a slender white-haired boy, wreathed in a wildly tattered, shifting great downy cloak larger even than the beast the other man has become and seeming to be made of condensed moonlight, rippled back and ending in feathered edges that look vaguely winglike. His left arm ending in delicate, wickedly sharp and overly long bladed claws, and his right wreathed in a sleeve of the same ethereal material -- and holding fast to that ribbon tether from the cuff at his wrist. But his left eye has now bled a black sclera, the iris shifting into glowing red rings that shift like a camera lens trying to focus. Like trying to peer deeper...
To the corrupted soul of a beast, it would feel like that sense when you know someone is watching you. To feel peered within, when you thought you were invisible. Someone is there when you thought no one was anymore. Someone sees... You're there, he knows you are. You're still human aren't you, even being a beast like this?
It isn't like he can turn his sight off, anyway. ]
Stop it! [ It's... strangely raw and cracked, coming out of his throat. Angry but anguished as well and laced with some sort of desperation. One that's in how his arm trembles slightly as well, even as he holds fast with feet firmly planted. Fear, but not being afraid.
Fear that's been long conditioned and channeled into the will to survive and persist. Because people who fight -- ...people who grow up having to fight in what's all too often a losing side, who every single day of their lives from the time they were a small, untrained child have to exist as a literal target, who could die so incredibly easy at any time and can only survive... people like that--
Terror and the existential dread of suddenly realizing their own mortality might be imminent is just their way of life. Even if this time... it really does feel sickening.
This is not... ]
Even if you're in pain... I know that! [ ...any normal beast. ]
But fight me instead!
[ I have a bad feeling about this. ]
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the irony in those words is staggering. there's no external input from the rest of the world during the change. everything's gone white, then black, then blue, and now this. an overwhelming urge to set one thing ablaze after another. burn it all to the ground and leave it blackened, unwanted, unusable, everything around him turned into nothing more than smolders of life that failed to live against the intensity of his flames. every single one of them can burn. every single thing can blacken away.
a man, a beast, a dragon, a flaming corruption of a "hero" from his own world. no one thing worse than this monstrosity of a thing that embodies and consumes dabi's hatred and generates it simultaneously. vomiting up his own malice, only to suck it right back into his body, this never-ending cycle of pain and hate fueling his vengeance. imbibing it to churn his rage and venom all over again until it comes out even more potent than before. it's there in each step, each burning footprint left behind.
one building goes up in flames, dark blue wrapping around it and bursting from the windows. the roof tears itself off in an upward scream of flames, failing to even fall to the ground below before it's blown away as ash on the winds. glass litters the ground for a few seconds before it begins to melt into the cobblestones. igniting that building had taken nothing out of him, but a moment later, those burning eyes glance to the side as something snaps round its his wrist. tugging at his arm, like a frail gossamer thread attempting to dislodge him from his actions.
pathetic. the stranger on the other end of this thinks such a frail attempt to prevent him from success is worth attention? or did he forget this monster has two arms. the man grabs one intense hand around the ribbon and abruptly pours a wave of navy blue flames straight down it. far more overkill than necessary, as if trying to snap a thread with an ocean surf. leaving the rocky ground behind it sizzling and glowing as it scorches the surface and completely blocks out the man from view. trying to stare at him is like trying to look straight into the roaring blaze of a fire: it'll boil your damn eyeballs.
someone's there. what lies inside is more of what lies outside. flames. a sea of blue fire, burning far hotter than orange, yellow, and even white. it covers the floor, it hangs in the air, burning burning burning. the smell of burnt flesh is everywhere, the sound of crackling and occasional rushes of hot wind. someone's there, but this new intruder into his "soul" is going to have to weather a lot to reach through that azure hellscape. there's not much else left in there but fire.
the clinging fly had better find a way to get out of the path of that approaching wave because there's no effort on the other side to hold back. a feeble cracked voice doesn't even reach the man, lost over the bellow of conflagration as the building begins to crumble into itself. the flames quickly jump to the next one. he's set an entire forest on fire by touching one tree; don't think you can stop those hate-filled flames with something as nonexistent as a plea to "stop". that word never did much to stop him anyways.
in fact- 'FWOOSH!' it just makes him burn even hotter! fight him? sure. feel free to be a firefighter against this inferno. but something this intense, this natural disaster, doesn't care to fight "one" opponent. not when it figures a simple blazing cast off to the side can eliminate it entirely. you want a fight, prove you're even worth its time to notice beyond that.]
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Innocence, after all, is something entirely not of the world and entirely unaffected by it or anything else, save itself -- and its perfect counterpoint.
It's only for a fraction of a second though, before his demeanor shifts and his eyes narrow, pulling violently on that very same tether. Not enough to dislodge Dabi, but to pull himself violently forward and airborne with a crack of that cloak in an entirely un-cloaklike matter -- and letting the tether break off from his wrist the moment he does so before the fire can reach him.
No good. He has to try to keep away from that from all costs, even with Crown Clown. The fire can cling.
-- but his soul is still there. He can see that, even if it's buried deep inside and remains silent. Even if this creature his form has taken is monstrous beyond comparison to any other beast he's fought, if his human soul is still in there...
The mask that had previous been nestled at his throat shifts, snapping up like a sentient thing protectively over his face, the large feathered cowl coming up as well and binding tight around his head in an insulating manner. Ribbons that are the selfsame as the ones that previously bound him to the other snake out and wrap around the parts of his body not already covered by the cloak, binding him up like a marrionete. And reaching his right hand to grasp the wrist of his left, he twists in mid-air as he pulls what is a giant, glowing broadsword as long as he is and almost as broad in a flash of that same sort of transformative light. Grasping it instead of his left arm which is no longer there -- and swinging down in a violent, headlong rush as he meets his beast form.
It is not a normal sword. Born entirely from the heart of the user, it cuts only that which is corrupted, that which is dark or evil. To cut through that and only that -- straight through to the soul itself. Not in the violence of pain, but a gentle and cleansing feeling. Kind. Because that is entirely what the sword is and the only thing his sword is.
A salvation that's gentleness and kindness to the point of being searing. ]
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I'm going to slip this in quick to give a chance to react
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1/2
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sorry for the delay, had to figure how i wanted to do this
you're totally fine! this is brilliant
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thanks for traumatizing this kid, allen. you're the worst. false hopes soon to be dashed... shame.
:'''') why do his good deeds always backfire so horribly!!
that's what you get for playing hero...
smh, you don't have to be right you know
right and deadly
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sorry for delay! I needed to flail properly over this
flail some more~
ヘ(。□°)ヘ !! also cw: MORE severe child abuse, vaguely implied sexual assault
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I had this finished ages ago but never posted it sadjkaj smh, I'm sorry
done that before. it sucks.
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PART 2 ▶ Wonderkind
it's what made the first glimmer of lights outside easy to ignore. but the more it happens, the more it irritates him, until dabi finally goes to check on the window, with the intention of shutting the curtains. ... .... ... why the fuck is there a meteor shower outside? he instinctively tucks his head when one of them sizzles towards the window, but it vanishes. there's no cash of glass or anything. in fact, despite the falling "rock" there's no damage outside. he doesn't stare for long, turns his head and looks to the darkness once or twice, between glancing back at the stones. doesn't want another repeat of what happened with those damn butterflies.
but there's no negative repercussions so far. in fact, the glowing lights seem to leave pieces behind. trails in the air, like tears. the nearby one in his place seems to open to some kind of... room. it's empty and he can put his hand inside, as if looking into an entire new dimension. after a few tests, he ventures putting his head in, but all that gets is a look around the empty sealed room. no one and nothing inside... not wanting to risk getting shut in there, dabi retreats, but at least it pings his curiosity enough to go outside again and start looking around.
different rifts in the air, each one opening to some other place somewhere. cautious, he stays clear of them, looking with his eyes and not with his hands. but one of them does ultimately catch his interest. not some fantastical realm or some burning hellscape. no... it looks like... a drug store. yeah, your basic street corner pharmaceutical. but it's still a store. doesn't look like anyone's inside so... feel free to find dabi standing in front of the rift with his arm stuck through it and pulling out some painkillers from the drugstore shelves.
the items don't vanish when he pulls them back into this world. fuck... lucky. guess he's gonna go stockpile on supplies. anyone else up for a drug run?]
mha spoilers folks, avert thine eyes or get burned
It's been over a month since he returned home and started healing. Midoriya still has a bit of roughness to his edges in his frayed cloak and oft-mended Hero costume. (He had to replace the jumpsuit entirely after that battle, but he did try to get it as close to the original as possible.) Now he's back on the beat with his Hunter's badge hanging by a bit of fabric on his cloak, the one given to him on arrival, the one that keeps all the blood of this world off--and there's a lot of it.
Whatever happens, he's still a Hero who saves everyone. By now he's received reports about the portals. When he spies them in the distance, he closes in, jumping over the rooftops with One For All to assess danger. No monsters yet, but a bystander is standing near one of them. Not good. Midoriya rushes there, lands in the street--and stops. He's too late to prevent the sound of his Iron Soles hitting the pavement.
Several meters away, he recognizes him. Dabi, the member of the League of Villains who held Bakugou by the neck and taunted Shouto Todoroki by name before disappearing with his hostage into a portal. (It's been a while, but that's always the image that's strongest in Midoriya's mind.) Now Dabi is in the middle of pulling something with consumer packaging out of one.
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dabi doesn't know a whole lot about midoriya, but he has seen enough of the kid through a mixture of present-during-fights and good old fashioned stalking (thanks in part to hawks and his video feeds) to realize there's something different about him. it's the look in his eyes and the expression on his face. no longer wide-eyed wonder and happy, but something more drawn and mature, as if he's been through more harrowing experiences. hmph. not a bad improvement over the contrary.
heroes spends too long with rose-colored glasses on their averted faces looking at the sun and ignoring the rest. but why the hell's he here? asks the man with his hand pulling an item out from the rack of a store beyond the rift. great, this some kinda police bust? dabi drops the item into a bag by his side and turns to face midoriya fully.
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Danger Sense is quiet. There is no attack or one to come. After making mistakes even before he got his Provisional Hero License, Midoriya is more committed to not escalating. Here, his first step is not to approach someone with the safety off, so to speak. He dispels the slight wind and arcing energy of his Quirk. It's mostly a gesture; he could call it back up again in an instant like breathing. Sometimes gestures mean something. He has no idea if it will matter here.
There's merit in looking beneath the surface, figuring out motivations. It started with Stain--no, earlier. People in Midoriya's life, not Villains but Heroes, who were... not the best people. It hasn't quite come together yet, as Midoriya learns about the world and himself, but it's a subtle knowledge that's been growing in him.
So, there is no Stop right there, or Come quietly. He doesn't have the authority or the detention facilities to back that up. He only has an observant eye and just enough guts--or power, or deficiency in self-preservation--to walk slowly forward to see better.
"Why are you stealing... medicine?"
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That's far more safe to pick up, especially when some of the articles she picks up are also familiar. One of Bakugou's shirts, Deku's scarf, a box of Gold Tips Imperial...stuff like that. They're all solid, all real, and Ochako picks up each one into her arms. Now scouring the area around, she's mostly looking for clothes and other useful necessities to take back when she spots a certain someone and freezes. O-Oh...well. That's not who she expected to ever run into - hell, Ochako hope she'd never encounter any of the two League members that were here, and she bites her lip. He's too sharp to not notice if she tried to hide, and there's really no where to hide other than jumping into one of those portals and that's just a straight up NOPE. So, Ochako just sighs and shakes her head. All she wants to do is get some clothes, man...
Speaking of, what is Dabi doing? ...Stealing. Of course he's stealing. But medicine? Huh...did he get hurt?? Probably. Ochako can't think he wouldn't pick a fight, or maybe he was also afflicted by that horrible blood sickness last month? Heaven knows when she was, Ochako was taking painkillers almost all the time. Her conscience tells her to say something, that "stealing is bad" etc. but...it's easy enough to ignore. Really, there's way worse things to pick a fight over, and if he's stealing medicine, then there's a clear reason for that. So, she takes a breath and sighs.]
The one in the green-blue box is more potent, and it kicks in faster.
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are you going to hurt my friends?
shouto's first question when dabi irritably told him to ask whatever was on his mind at the moment. surprised him a little, since he figured it'd be something annoyingly "family" related. but thing is, dabi doesn't have it out personally for any of shouto's little friends. the explosive guy was simply following orders and the green guy put his nose where it didn't belong. even shouto's no more than a means to an end (though dabi hates him for his own reasons). problem is... that "end" isn't here. which puts him in a strange state. without the major fuel to his fire, it's left him feeling trapped, not knowing what to do asides from survive.
only if they give me a reason to.
had been his answer to that question above. and that's what he's holding to. there's no point in torching any of these kids. not when he can use them to his advantage. unlike many of the trash he met on the streets, the heroes are useful.
still, she's not his business and he goes right back to the rift he'd been picking from. only to pause when she calls out to him. the green-blue box? either she's got some fucking good eyesight or she's been to this rift before. not trusting a hero, dabi still swipes one of the boxes and pulls it from the rift before looking at it. there's a bag beside him with other ill-gotten gains within.]
Speakin from experience?
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Spying the bag at his side, and rolling her eyes with a shake of her head when he doesn't listen to her advice, Ochako rolls up the poster and approaches Dabi slowly, keeping well out of arm's length.]
Mm, I get sick a lot. [She shrugs. It's the truth. The nausea that comes with overuse of her quirk is a full body experience. Headaches, vomiting, the usual aches and pains...Ochako used to have to take a bunch of painkillers when she was first learning to control it.] Can you grab me a bag?
[Having something with handles to put her own things into would be awesome.]
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sorry he's a jerk
he's perfect fffff... and sorry for slow tags, heatwave here melted my brain
why thank ya. she's been positively lovely too. and yeah, i feel ya on the heat. ugh.
aaah thank you, i'm glad you think so!! ♥♥ and yup, gonna be 93F here today...
guh, it's gonna be 87 here, but that's cause rain... potentially
yuppp gonna be another scorcher this weekend afaik. AND high polled!! haha kill me :'D
ugh, even worse. yeah more heat for us too. fucking hate summer...
biiig same. also gonna start wrapping this up, methinks.
yeah we should be able to wrap it in two or three more goes.
yup, my thoughts exactly
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Exploring Trenchwood
Rounding a massive oak, he skids to a stop upon catching sight of a shadowy silhouette crouching in the undergrowth—Dabi, searching for medicinal plants. Like a switch, Naruto’s entire appearance shifts in a heartbeat: He activates Six Paths Kurama Sage Mode, falling into a defensive stance. Frowning, he squints at Dabi suspiciously.]
Oi! You’re no beast, [he remarks, stating the obvious. The shinobi draws closer, not sparing the burn scars or surgical staples more than a cursory glance; Naruto has seen much stranger in his home world.] What’re you doing? …Taking a leak?
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but at least he's reached a patch of the plant he was looking for, after double checking the description. another quick slice through the stem and he pulls the plant from the ground, stuffing it into a bag at his side. but he pauses on sensing another presence behind him, only to tense at the sudden flare of orange light. lifting a hand to block his eyes (come on, man, it's dark out here), dabi turns mid crouch, frowning between the slats of his fingers. some glowing orange kid?]
Statin the obvious. [no beast, though some might disagree after what he's done in his life.] Ya mind turnin off ya fucking flashlight clothes?
[when you're through blinding him, then they can do something more decent, like talk.]
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Expression grim, the blond sweeps the rest of their vicinity. They seem to be in a relatively safe location this close to the main road. The most malignant chakra is concentrated deeper within the forest. For now, they should be fine. And so, glancing back in Dabi’s direction, Naruto drops Six Paths Kurama Sage Mode. The unnatural luminescence to his body winks out like that of a dead star.]
Ugh…now my eyes gotta adjust. Better?
[While he hasn’t yet decided what to do with the information about the nature of Dabi’s chakra, Naruto isn’t deterred by it. In fact, he chooses to approach—squatting down a healthy distance away to curiously regard the tragic remains of the plant that the young man took a cutting from. As he moves, the shifting fabric of his poncho makes it obvious that his right arm is missing from just above the elbow down; the fishnet shirt sleeve underneath is tired off neatly at the stump.]
…You’ve got an awful lotta hate in you for someone who’s picking flowers.
[The comment is neutral; Naruto may as well be discussing the weather.]
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but just as he's about to say something, the light vanishes and he's left blinking a few times, eyes trying to adjust to the sudden darkness once again. rude. could've at least said something. well, he never said something before turning it on, so why expect him to say something when he douses it? fading at last, dabi lowers his hand.]
Uh-huh.
[that even need to be asked? he loves having his eyes blinded for no reason. not having any reason to trust him, dabi remains crouched here he is, the knife in his hand lingering blade-first towards the ground. he's certainly not as good with blade fights as toga, but isn't completely inept with them, should the need arise. as the blonde approaches, his eyes narrow, waiting for one wrong move or gesture. but there's nothing. instead, the kid takes a crouch nearby. after a few more seconds of nothing, dabi goes back to getting the rest of the plant out of the ground and puts it into the bag.]
That's a pretty dour outlook on life, kid. [not going to comment on the curiosity of that statement...]
Ya think any action's hateful? [before cutting another plant with the knife and harvesting it.]
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PART 1.2 ▶ Butterfly Orbs
what finally prompted dabi to get up and move was learning about the healing properties of the orbs the giant creatures left behind. "healing" in terms of reducing corruption and pulling someone back from beasthood that is. though his cautious nature and self-preserving focus told him he shouldn't go risking shit for that, his logical mind and desire to be prepared rationalized he knew the dangers now and could easily avoid such a thing. don't stare. don't kill. neither of those prevent interaction. especially because the orbs themselves linger around after the creatures have moved on. it was more important to stockpile a good supply of those things on the off chance he needed them in the future.
lucky for him, he'd stolen a good number of glass bottles and vials from the lumenarium when he arrived here. procuring more hadn't been entirely difficult either. at the moment, he's opting for "low hanging fruit" in the vein of stalking around on rooftops and collecting the orbs that are in reach, usually propelling himself to a building roof that had just recently been vacated by one of the creatures. not like the butterflies were crawling around in alleys behind buildings.
just finished clapping a lid on a full jar before hearing someone behind him. dabi's attention shifts over his shoulder, turquoise eyes narrowing above the high collar of his coat.]
Oi. Get your own hunting ground.
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It's getting late in the month, and Wu has been—well. Great, for a while: shiny and charismatic and lovely, showering Mako and all their friends in gifts far exceeding the Raccoon Room's profits. But he's been getting snappy and mean and possessive, and Mako just... wants insurance. For Wu, for himself. If these things can really give him that, then they're worth pushing himself up onto the rooftops even with his bending on the fritz to learn more about.
Mako narrows his eyes at the person just in front of him, a dark silhouette against a darker night, lit only by the glow of the jar he's just closed. ]
Not your rooftop. You that desperate for these things?
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might be something useful with this.]
I like to have options available.
["desperate" is too strong a word for this. "desperate" would involve killing.]
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De-escalate, then. Diffuse the tension flowing on the breeze. Mako lifts a casual shoulder, looks up at the distant-lit trail of a butterfly. ]
Seems like you figured out their patterns. They drop these things every time they land?
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Sinner and Saint ~ backdated to march
following the map he'd been provided isn't the easiest task, not when he knows so little about this place already. but eventually the rising church in front of him gives way to the revelation he'd been successful. he'd never been within one of these things, only occasional trips to temples for annual ceremonies and traditions as a child, which had been left behind long ago. but though he had no reverence of fear of the place, dabi also makes a key point not to trust anyone. and that includes walking into the official "territory" someone had set up for themselves.
knowing little about junia save for the conversation they had and the image he saw through the stone (and she still has the trappings of a cult around her, deal with it), dabi opted not to go into the church, but instead, held to his agreement to meet somewhere outside her "territory" initially. at least he showed up in front of the church long enough for her to notice he was there after contacting her. then heads off to the clearing she indicated, taking his place in the shadows near the edge and watching the woman approach. if they talk here, and he feels comfortable enough, he might enter her church. no point in intentionally lowering his chances of success if she has her better utilities inside. but for now, he wants to see and hear what she's offering.]
I'm guessin ya found this and took residence? Lotsa abandoned places around here.
PART 1.3 ▶ Butterfly Wars
the monster had left the entire place a sweltering hellscape, the air thick with smoke and the heat causing everything to waver and quiver from the shimmery temperature. within one of the buildings, now visible thanks to the wall itself slowly oozing downward like a sheet of wax collapsing from the top, the creature responsible for all of this stands pinned in the middle of the room. swathed in white ribbons that stubbornly refuse to dim as they contain the beast within, it remains still, the occasional spurt of dark blue flame bursting from tiny gaps in the ribbon's wrapping. as if they're containing a stove ready to burst apart and release a furnace within.
all it'll take is one slip, one crack, and the conflagration that set this place on fire would once again be released, roaring into the night in an eager rush to bring more of that devastation.]
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...how much longer is his body going to last?
(Shaking. His limbs are shaking and trembling like he should be screaming, and the steel toes of his boots have become near-molten bright and the leather charred.)
Covered in soot and ash from the smoldering remains of what was once one of the Trench's neighborhood squares, even the brightness of his cloak is dimmed. Or -- maybe it looks dimmer than it usually does for other reasons as well. But it looks like a wild beast, half preoccupied with wrapping itself around Allen as living armor, half writhing in the air like a tortured and mad beast itself with arcs of feathered light peeling off like misshapen wings. Countless tethers peel off it, wrapping up the giant form of a man underneath him that he's dwarfed by halfway like a mummy, pinning him not even so much to the ground, but -- pinning Allen to him. Boots planted solidly against its chest for leverage as he's raised a gleaming sword -- massive even against the twisted, half-dragon half-man seeming beast beneath him -- and has it plunged deep within its shoulder. Angled in deep like he's struggling to drive it into the core of it, and the arm laid out to the side that's partially wrapped and pinned back has already been sliced open. Corrupted flesh peeled back --
-- and exposing the dark purple, scarred and thinner arm within.
But for the moment... it would seem he stopped, having found a barrier inside or hesitated, even if his face is so grimly set and his teeth grit. His briefly unfocused eyes in the direction of one of the still-visible swathes of flame licking from a shoulder of the beast -- and the eye of an unscarred young ghost of man resting within it. ]
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How many is that?
[ Seventy-two.
Shouto lifts the jar to eye-level, noting the diminishing space of the brightly burning orbs. ] This one's full.
[ More? ]
Viktor will need them for his research, and if it works, I want to save some for Touya.
[ Turning around, he heads back down the dark street where he left the rest of the night's collection inside a frozen box. Reaching it, he runs a finger an inch below the top, melting through the ice like butter. He slides off the top, and his face is instantly awash with starlight. Inside, a dozen packed jars burn brightly from the spheres they hold. He adds another jar to his collection and picks up an empty one. Once he's done, he slides the top back on and runs his other hand over the box, refreezing the seal. With his collection protected, he lets his fire flicker to life over his palm to light the way as he heads out into the night in search of more orbs.
It's not long before Kizu directs his eyes up again, a pair this time dancing around each other a few stories high. He spawns the construct of a bridge up to the dancing globes of light. Smiling softly, he uses his fire to coax them into the empty jar. As they drift closer to their glass prison, a light ringing starts up in the distance. Faintly at first, then louder, and louder and-- ]
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The gentle beat of butterfly wings incinerated by a sea of blue.
His brother on his knees, spilling out the contents of his soul.
The world catches fire, and a beast emerges from the ashes painted in their father's image.
A priest wrapped in a holy veil armed with an exorcist's sword.
A Dance with Death: Azure flames barrel down on the priest and ribbons rip into rooftops, streetlamps, anything they can get their hooks in; building momentum, a broad sword is hurled across the distance cutting through flesh.
An oppressive darkness...
The sound of waves crashing against the shoreline and in the distance, a figure with white hair washed ashore, brought in by the tides.
The dead returning home...
Slammed back into his body, his heart races in his chest, where Kizu shouts his name over and over again. The vision dissipates, releasing its grip on him, and he stumbles to the ground. Lungs working at overcapacity, he gulps down much-needed air. ]
Ki-- [ wheezes ] --zu. ... have to...
[ Eyes closed tight guarding against the onslaught of another vision. ]
Find them... [ fingers grip the ice ] Please... [ and tears track down his cheeks. ]
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Three...
His third vision, and he's in no better shape than the last one. Still recovering, he pushes himself to keep hold of his omen while she tracks THEM DOWN before it's too late. Cursed, he's only ever seen a few seconds ahead. Please! Don't be too late! But when a shift in the wind brings the acrid stench of smoke, his fears intensify. Adrenaline pumping, his grip grows stronger as they race headlong into the killing field where his fears turn into reality.
Ribbons entrenched in every surface, leveraging his position to STAB THROUGH HIS BROTHER with THAT same weapon he used to KILL the akuma--!!! ]
STOP IT!
[ The sound of waves crashing against the shoreline and in the distance, a figure with white hair washed ashore, brought in by the tides.
The dead returning home...
Ice bursts forth from him like a volcanic eruption, spraying crystallized bladed needles, sharply pointed, in every direction. Shouto loses control of his quirk, releasing a poorly aimed attack on his brother's assailant in utter defiance of his vision. ]
STOP! IT!!
Blythe coming in like a Three Days Grace wrecking ball of Pain
Did they ever hit so hard in Love?
~All you ever did was wreck me~
1/2 and all you ever did was wreck /ME/. LITERALLY. (º̩̩́⌣º̩̩̀ʃƪ)
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and this is where I dip out )o)
thanks for this emotional wreck!
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*just chucks him on the bed like a coat you're done with ~ FLOP*
*chucks shouto at him* You thought you could escape!!! HA! Did you forget your brother's a leech!!!
one fried leech, coming up
/wedges self between wall and bro/ that'll teach him to be lazy.
next time you can carry yourself...