We could go down in flames (but we'll melt the world away)

[likethelight]

Who: Allen Walker and Shouto Todoroki
What: Allen comes back after dying while purifying beast-Dabi, cue pain (:
When: Early May
Where: Farther Shores

Content Warnings: Mentions of character death, character panic over disabling injury/body failure



[ Timcanpy has been waiting very patiently.

For over a week, Timcanpy has been waiting very patiently. While new Sleepers washed ashore and remembered their features and spring began and was celebrated on the boardwalk. After they had stopped appearing and the ocean once settled into its normal rhythm, grey and foreboding, without anyone further being brought in by the tide. Sunrise to sunset and throughout the night and moonrise, he stays up in the boughs of a lone flowering cherry tree along the black sand and watches the waves.

Sometimes having company, and sometimes not. Sometimes being the one keeping company. He comes down and stays with them, letting himself be sad then and clinging on.

But he's a good omen. He'll wait as long as it takes.

It's the first night of the full moon when he stirs suddenly, rousing from where he had been not-quite dozing, like someone disturbed from their sleep by a distant sound. Staring out into the waves so quietly, so intently, like he's straining to see... before he explodes into motion. Rocketing up, zig-zagging back and forth, before abruptly taking off towards the water—

—and then coming straight back, slamming into the nearby, camped out Todoroki's head and bouncing off like a squishy sort of softball. He's right back up and fluttering around in front of his face a moment later though. _{Get up, get up! Now! Nownownow!!} ]

Comments

[likethelight]

[ His breath catches slightly at feeling the temperature spike, alarmed and a little worried for a moment -- who wouldn't be gunshy with how many times he's been burned in the last few months -- but more for how that seemed to throw Shouto off-kilter. Not even the thing he thought would, but that... he could see souls? That's what alarmed him so much?

His expression becomes quiet, watching that nervous sort of flicker across Shouto's face. His throat bobbing as he swallows before he looks away. It's... so uncharacteristic of the other boy that it's actually fascinating, making him blink for a moment and consider that. Why were you...?

--oh.

He hesitates, then leans back a little to try and look more clearly at him, even if he's trying to hide his face. Studying. ]

...I can't see yours, you know. [ Spoken very calmly and gently, matter-of-fact. ] Not like this, at least. Only when someone becomes a beast, or an akuma. [ ...unless his powers really are evolving? But that's not something to dwell on right now. And he bites his lip slightly, considering the other boy's question. The very large can of worms that it is. ]

But... [ ...he fidgets. just a little. ]

...can I get some clothes first? [ Please. His nerves are starting to fray with self-consciousness. ]

[swellter]

[ He's used to public scrutiny. Strangers yelling his name, calling for him. Cheering him on. Opponents, cursing him. And he, barely even affected. No longer the shy boy of his youth, he knows how to handle being watched. Scrutinized. It doesn't bother him. But his soul... watched, scrutinized. A part of him that not even he understands. It makes him feel exposed, nervous of what he'll find. A monster hidden in the depths, the one who hated his father before the Sports Festival. Callous. Without empathy. Heart frozen over, numb to the world. Easy to anger.

A mar on his soul deeper than the one on his face.

Hearing that admission breaks the tension. A quick intake of breath. Relief. The temperature steadies back to a warm heat, unaware that it had flared because that's what it means to be resistant to the heat. The cold. A small flair is barely noticeable.

He nods, acknowledging the explanation. He hadn't turned into a beast, so his soul... the part of him that was ugly and unrecognizable to who he was now... that remained between him and Kizu.

He starts moving again, no longer stiff. Gaze still up ahead. ]

We're almost there.

[ In the distance, he can see the glowing sapling. The closer he draws to it's influence, the easier it is to let go of the image stuck in his mind - a tainted soul. ]

[likethelight]

[ It's not just that he's nervous that Allen could possibly have been seeing his soul... Or, no, it is; it's related to that. But it's... more than that. He can't put his finger on what exactly, but that quick and relieved sort of breath, pensive demeanor... There was something else about it that bothered him. Something that he was worried Allen might have seen.

Worried, he watches him for a moment but doesn't press about it. Just notes it for later and shifts his weight slightly, trying not to jostle as he adjusts the arm he'd had looped around his neck for balance. ]

Mm... [ Just enough to move his hand to rest against the back of his neck instead, lightly brushing the shorter wisps of hair there in the process. Like a spot check; a sort of are you okay? mixed with something grounding. Some it's okay, stay here silently comforting sort of gesture.

Tim squirms lightly when they get close to the tree, turning about to look at it. Allen's a little surprised too, just to see something like that blooming where normally the shores are so desolate -- and certainly he would have remembered something like it being there before -- and a little more surprised when Timcanpy breaks free then, moving ahead of them to drift back up into the branches. ]

[swellter]

[ A shift in his arms, and the hand around his neck adjusts to-- Oh. Fingers sift through the ends of his hair in a soothing gesture that lightens the load of those dark thoughts. He's been prone to them lately, the corruption influencing him more readily ever since his death. Half a year here and he'd kept its influence at bay but after what happened. The terror, guilt, and grief fed those tendrils. If it wasn't for the sapling he slept under every night, it would have taken root, spreading like a disease.

But his thoughts remain calm, soothed by a simple gesture he recalls from his childhood. When his mother was still there to soothe him with affectionate gestures that disappeared after her breakdown scarring him inside and out.

His eyes drift back down to him, no longer nervous but calm. Steady heat. Steady steps. They've reached the sapling's sphere of influence. As Tim flies ahead to perch on his branch next to Kizu's heavier bough, he reaches their destination. The snow leopard lies across its thick trunk like a queen at her throne, her tail flicking lazily as she watches their approach.

Shouto settles Allen at the roots of the tree before leaving his side, taking the heat with him. He moves over to what looks like a camping backpack. He combs through it in search of the spare clothes he promised and once he finds the small stash (inside a waterproof bag) he pulls it out and zips up the pack. Standing, he heads back to his side, crouching down in front of him. He opens the pack pulling out a set of loose-fitting sleeping clothes (a white t-shirt and grey sweats) and sets form-fitting boxer briefs on top. ]

Do you need help changing?

[likethelight]

[ He'd been wondering about that, being someone more intimately familiar with the nature of corruption. Even if his eye can only detect the corruption in someone's soul once it reaches some dangerous critical point... being what people here consider more Night Walker than Hunter, he knows the mental kind of state that can lead someone to start to plummet rapidly into it. It's another reason for that quiet, observant worry.

He's surprised to see Kizu out and waiting for them -- the first time outside of battle or some similarly intense moment -- and marvels for a moment at that. Waiting to meet her eyes, even if just to give her a very small sort of nod of acknowledgement.

It's... peaceful. Something about this place is so remarkably peaceful. It feels so very gentle, like something tangible that's in the air, even if he also shivers a touch and curls in on himself as he hadn't realized how much he'd been relying on the other's quirk to stay warm. But this feeling, it's almost like-- ]

Um... [ The question catches him slightly offguard and yeah, this time he blushes, gaze flickering back and forth between the pile of clothes and Shouto. ]

No, that's alright... I think I can manage. [ Said with a bit of a weak chuckle and smile. Maybe he technically needs help and should accept it -- he tried to pull his knees up when Shouto first set him down before realizing with some quiet panic that his legs aren't responding to him at all and opted to just discreetly keep his hands folded across his lap instead -- but... he'll try on his own first thanks.

Haha... this sucks and he'd be grumpier about it if he wasn't so anxious about why it's taking so long for him to get control of his body back. ]

[swellter]

[ In the wilds of his world, snow leopards are rare. They blend in against the backdrop of the mountains so effortlessly you'd never guess how much they roam their terrain incessantly. Rarely, do they go below the treeline where their coat becomes a liability. Yet, here one lies white against a green and pink background, easily discernable. So, obviously more than a wild cat of the mountains, the omen's sharp eyes land on them. First on her Sleeper taking note of his state, then on to the small one. Their eyes meet. He nods to her, and she stares back remembering the scent of ash that still haunts her Sleepers nightmares. A barely-there tip of her head before she settles her head on her great paws, ignoring their arrival. She's made her assessment. There's no need for more.

Shouto, lost in thought, never notices Kizu's assessment, focused on his task. Later, when he offers Allen his sleeping clothes, he gets a familiar answer. It's the same one Midoriya and Bakugou always give him, so it doesn't bother him. Still, he keeps asking - same with them - for those rare instances that it's accepted.

He nods at Allen and rocks back on his haunches before standing in one easy motion. He walks away from the exposed roots of the sapling to give him some privacy and to take care of his own water-logged state. It's not comfortable, so he raises his temperature until steam starts wafting off of him, blown away by the cooler wind. There's no open flame just a rise in temperature contained within his skin until he's perfectly dry. When he's done, he sits down on the sand, perfectly content to wait for Allen as he's done so all week. ]

the irony of being able to draw on my time in the hospital unable to use my legs to write this, lol

[likethelight]

[ He feels a tiny bit bad for it, he did say he'd let the other help him recover, help take care of him, but -- there are limits. For both their sakes so Allen can continue to look him in the eye normally later. Or, at least let him wiggle into some underwear first. But at least a t-shirt and loose sweatpants are easy enough to manage. His usual form fitting clothing with all its layers -- probably not so much.

That also begs the question he hadn't thought of before, reaching for the clothing and inspecting them for a moment, of... whose clothes are these? Most likely Shouto's, and he's a little quiet for a moment as he considers that. Only for a moment, and Timcanpy drifts back down to help him as he's always inclined to. He even holds a towel for him when he brushes his teeth.

It's... not easy, trying to hook your legs through little holes when you can't bring them up to your chest or even twist your feet, Timcanpy's valiant efforts or not, but he finally figures it out by just reaching and manually pulling his legs up with his hands instead. And Shouto can probably hear the occasional grumbling sort of tch from time to time. But having good upper body strength is a blessing, and while it takes him longer than it should he manages to shimmy his way into both underwear (similar taste in style, he's grateful for that, thanks Shouto, but right now it's also annoying) and sweats. The shirt is easy then, especially being somewhat oversized on him -- even if the pants aren't so much. And he frowns lightly to himself for a moment at that discrepancy. _{Long legs and wide hips for a boy.}

In the process... he also finally realized the reappearance of his old scar; the one on his chest. Two of them, actually. The large one almost bisecting him, and a smaller but also angry and fresher-looking one in his belly. Like someone had run him through with a sword in the most painful, twisting way possible -- maybe because this time he remembers who. And he remembers too... he had stabbed himself through with Crown Clown again, right. And maybe that was why, but...

Shaking his head slightly to clear his thoughts and reminding himself that this isn't the time, he looks up to where Shouto has his back to him. ]

It's alright. I'm done. [ He moves to push his hair free from under the collar of his shirt too, not terribly used to that still. It's been long and past his shoulders for a long time now, getting longer still and usually kept in a short ponytail, but it's getting to be a little much. Especially without a hair tie. ]

Thank you.

I hope it wasn't as bad! And they do say, write what you.... know >_>

[swellter]

[ When Midoriya's arms had been broken and put in a cast, he offered the same help, but his friend had insisted he do it himself pulling on his clothes with his teeth while a nurse helped 'a little'. Bakugou simply yelled and told him to get lost. That too doesn't bother him. Little does. He respects people's wishes only interfering when they're hurting themselves. He steps in then, firm and undeterred. Heroes are independent by nature and some need it just to feel whole. He understands that mindset because it's his own. Even when his friends are being stubborn, he doesn't interfere and lets them exhaust themselves before stepping in.

Allen too, seems to have that mindset from what he's gathered. He doesn't know the extent of his injuries or that he has no use of his legs so he's less prone to worry about him while he waits. Though, he does wonder what all the muttering is about and why it's taking him so long. Short of a robe, he gave him a fairly easy set of clothes. Was he doing something else?

Kizu for her part watches his struggle with no issue. Timcanpy tries to help but his efforts prove fruitless, though she doesn't fault the attempt. She sees the way Allen lifts the dead weight of his leg, one by one, and wiggles into the underwear. That gets the cogs of her thoughts turning. She knows as much as her Sleeper on the subject of the dead returning which amounts to 'not much'. He's never witnessed anyone's return only catching sight of them weeks later after they're fit enough to return to patrol. Somehow, Hunters tend to die quite often.

She keeps her thoughts to herself and lets Allen finish dressing in peace wondering how her Sleeper will react to the news. For now, she watches them, hearing Allen call him back and the way he turns around like an obedient pup. He plays the part well, but she knows better. He's fooled even his brother, who thinks him a puppet, a laughable comparison when he draws his morals not from pillars of authority but from himself. Otherwise, he wouldn't be so adamant to get to know a villain who had killed so many, viewed his siblings as collateral damage, and tried to kill him. She knows what lies beneath, knows him better than he knows himself. He's no canine and never will be, he's far too fickle. Like her.

Shouto treks back to the sapling where Allen waits and settles himself next to the boy without a word. He's still radiating a steady heat, back pressed to the tree, he looks out to sea. ]

I have a sweater too. If you want one.

more movement for more pain. 🙃 and precisely! silver lining! lmdfjs

[likethelight]

[ Glancing over when he moves to sit next to him, Allen relaxes a little then. Sitting back a bit more comfortably against the trunk and breathing in the light smell of cherry blossoms, he shakes his head slightly at the question. He can still feel the warmth radiating off the other boy, even if he only feels it on the side closest to him, and it's nice. He'd rather that than a sweater. ]

It's alright, I'm comfortable like this. [ He actually is; weirdly content even, despite how distracted and somber his thoughts are. There's a gentle sort of touch from the tree, something peaceful about the smell of its blossoms, and that helps. Even the moonlight has a faintly fresh smell, but he's always felt a bit more alive under the full moon.

Timcanpy peels away to settle back up into the branches, taking his post by Kizu like a quiet sort of warden, and Allen lets his eyes close. Just letting himself center and focus on the warmth. He's dressed now, and Shouto had asked before...

He's quiet for a long moment, letting his thoughts drift. Considering. ]

...he was just a boy, you know. When I saw him.

In his soul.

[swellter]

[ His fingers dig into the black sand, the only sign of discomfort as the heat continues its steady stream. It takes him a moment to get past it. Another to recall the picture sitting at his vigil young and quiet with no inkling of what was to come.

That Touya is a ghost to him, a figure he once knew but could never quite grasp. Someone he saw from afar but was never allowed to know. His father kept them adamantly apart, his mother followed suit and Shouto was too young to know what was happening. Everyone knew but him. Everyone kept the secret until Dabi blew it open, sending him on a tailspin. ]

... What was he like?

[likethelight]

[ Allen looks back to him for a moment, gaze flickering between the profile of his face and his fingers in the sand, curling there next to the roots. He considers that quietly for a moment, before looking back out towards the ocean as well.

Dabi's privacy, Shouto's right to know... and Touya's chance at maybe breaking from some of that pain. That child's eyes full of pride, of the need to be loved, of desperation... and then such black despair and rage. Damaged. Breaking apart. Broken.

Allen's gaze dips for a moment, becoming a touch hooded. ]

...he wanted to be happy. Like any other child might. [ He wanted his father's love.

It's going to be hard to hear; he heard enough of the story to realize that. It's not why he's telling him that though, and his pale eyes slide back to Shouto. Light as the moonlight itself and with a calm, clear sort of certainty. ]

I think it means some part of him still wants for that. Some part of him still is that.

[ Else why wouldn't it have burned up with the rest of him in there, that desolate and bleak sort of landscape? ]

[swellter]

[ The topic of his family was always difficult to approach. For a long time, he didn't know anything better. Didn't realize it wasn't normal. Growing up, he learned about quirk marriages. Their banishment. How he and his siblings were a modern-day product of one, including Touya. Endeavor stopped training Touya long before he was ever born, so he was unaware that his father had honed his training etiquette on another before he took him to task. With his white hair, he assumed Touya was like his other siblings with a tragic end.

Like any other child.

He already knows his siblings weren't happy. So his words only confirm what he already suspected. Of course, with Dabi's recent expose, he knows that for a fact. Why else go so far for revenge?

He takes a moment to gather his thoughts and regulate his breathing. Letting go of the sand, his fingers relax and he looks up at the night sky. He's had a long time to think on this after their failed strike against the League and his brother's recent arrival.

What's the difference between a hero and a villain? ]

Most children want to be happy. Even as adults that feeling doesn't go away.

[ They fight for different causes. ]

[likethelight]

[ "Even as adults"... he glances back at that, quiet and studying again. Trying to read between those movements and expression.

You know, that also raises a rather funny point he hadn't considered with how long they've been here now. Are they adults now? Not that Allen has ever really considered such things or had it influence his behavior or decisions; he's essentially been an adult since he was very small. You're forced into it when you're forced to fight, to risk your life for the sake of others. He also doesn't actually know how old he is, technically. But... it's still a strange idea. By the rest of the world's evaluation, he has to be pretty close to it and Shouto looks to be about the same. And with his profession -- his situation doesn't sound entirely dissimilar to Allen's. Growing up young.

With the sort of home he grew up in, there's that as well.

Debating for a moment, he sets his hand down next to the other boy's. Not reaching for his hand exactly, just staying by his side in that fashion. Sides of their hands touching lightly, and something that would be easy to either shift away from or accept.

After all, every time Shouto shut down and pulled away, it's been when family (or what Allen now presumed had to do with it) came up. ]

Mm. [ Quiet agreement, letting the statement settle as he considers it. What's important to say, what is hurtful to say; what he has any right to say. ]

He did want to be saved, you know. From the beast he'd been turned into. [ "Want to be" is a bit of an overstatement sure, Allen pointed it out in a manner where Dabi agreed to let him only ever so reluctantly. Let's be honest; both of them knew it wasn't an ideal alliance.

But it was and he'll stick by that. ]

Even if there wasn't anything I could do about anything else.

That sounds terrible! (terribly late response) But yes! Silver linings! <3

[swellter]

[ The sapling's tranquil aura seeps into his thoughts smoothing out any rough edges he might feel towards the topic. He's a fickle creature when it comes to certain topics one of them being his family, the other his friends.

He accepts Allen's closeness, finding comfort in it. Unaware that there might be an offer for more, blind to it, he keeps still, content with the small point of contact as he continues recalling what he'd seen within the confines of his brother's soul.

Stunned by that admission, he stills and turns his head to him, confounded by what he just heard. ]

He... wanted to be saved?

[ There's hope in his eyes. Ambition. All that he held closely guarded spilling over. Unable to talk to his friends due to the divide between heroes and villains, he learned to keep his thoughts to himself regarding Dabi, but here and now, Allen knew. ]

Is that what he told you?

<3

[likethelight]

[ Allen got a good enough of a feel for Dabi to understand exactly why Shouto sounds so surprised. Your brother is kind of a dick, you know. A really distrustful, self-destructive one. Outright destructive; he tried to burn Allen to ash for his efforts even within that soulscape. He would have, too, if it had been real fire and not a match of their willpower manifested through abilities.

He tips his head back and meets his look, giving a wry and knowing sort of smile. Yeah. He knows exactly why that sounds surprising. ]

He said he tired of trying to be controlled. [ But that is a lot as far as Dabi -- Touya -- is considered, isn't it? Allen got that sense well enough.

But his smile lightens a little, seeing that glimmer of hope and determination, and he returns it with his own bright and set sort of look. No, Allen couldn't and could never hope to save or reach him when it came to that deep, twisted hatred he had for everything that had been done to him, all he can save someone from is corruption, but Shouto... ]

But he took my hand anyway.

[swellter]

[ He's tried to kill him a few times, so he knows his brother's not easiest to be around. The last time he offered to help him, he overdid it and got bruises on his throat for the effort. You'd think he'd be dissuaded, but Touya won't get rid of him so easily. He didn't try to kill him that time which puts him in a better position than in their previous encounter. It gives him hope. ]

Controlled? [ Deep creases cut across his brows and mouth as worry starts to seep in. ] Who's trying to control him?

[ His first guess would be Endeavor, but his father didn't even know he was alive until only recently. The League? Wasn't Dabi always dismissive of them? Almost as if he didn't care. His thoughts start to run away from him, dragging him down a rabbit hole, when Allen turns to him and smiles, bright and full of life. It stops him in his tracks. He blinks, stares, and willingly follows him back into the light. His words smooth out the creases, rounding out the edges as he takes his hand and raises it off the sand holding it between them. Under the cherry blossom tree, Shouto smiles back; inspired. ]

Thank you.

[likethelight]

[ Who's trying to control him? Allen just shakes his head slightly at that with an unsure note, looking a bit apologetic. His own corruption at the time, but as to everything he'd alluded to with that statement... he'd just be hazarding dangerous guesses into something he learned enough about to know he doesn't know anything about.

When he spoke with him as a boy, it had been Allen who implied and said he shouldn't be controlled by his own hatred for his father, shouldn't turn that inward on himself. And as a boy he had confirmed that, that Endeavor was the one who had once controlled him but no longer... but the Touya who had said he was tired of being controlled was the Touya as he is now, no longer a boy, so who's to say. Allen already learned the danger -- and damage -- of trying to presume, even with the best of intentions.

But his gut still says it's his own hate that's controlling him, even if he might not see it that way.

He's a little surprised when Shouto takes his hand though, his expression stilling for a moment not even because of that... but smiling at him like that. Real and truly, not just the faint curling of a corner of the mouth.

He has a really nice smile, he realizes with a slight blink, recalling when he looked up and first saw him on the beach. Breathless and flushed, absolutely radiant in a way Allen wishes he'd been in a better mental state to appreciate at the time. That he hadn't wiped away immediately even if he hadn't meant to, and almost thinks it might have been a figment of his imagination. It makes his heart feel warm, and he smiles back a little helplessly. A faintly sheepish, small lilted laugh escaping him as he tilts his head to the side. ]

Mn. [ It's warmed. So sheepishly warmed, and he takes his hand in return. Slotting their fingers together in a decisive, but also delicate sort of way in the same manner he had when Shouto had patched his wounds. You don't need to say thank you--

It's not taking his hand as you're welcome, but sharing that sort of quiet joy and hope.

...because smiling like that is thanks enough. ]

[swellter]

[ Allen stills, and his fingers curl around his palm, holding him through the hesitation. If he was better at reading people, he might have noticed the reason for his reserve. Ignorant of it, he presses on. Insight into another's thoughts and feelings isn't his forte, and he knows that. Acts despite it, giving them room to pull away. His hold is light and soft, easily broken if unwelcome.

He's never had a problem expressing himself if he knows what he's feeling. It's arriving at that conclusion that's the issue. He fluctuates too much to settle on a single sentiment. Despite his neutral facade, he does feel, a lot. His emotions often overwhelmed him as a child. They were too big for his small body, and his quirk would go out of control with his emotions, often freezing or setting something on fire. After his mother's breakdown, there was no one to help him address them, so he learned to repress them. It's become second nature to dismiss what he's feeling, so long as he's not on the field or the feeling isn't paramount.

When it's intense and heartfelt, he clings to it. He acts and doesn't stop. He's never had a problem going after what he wants. It's not always ideal, like with Touya, wanting to get to know someone who despises you by every account. But sometimes it's worth the effort, like with his mother. Rekindling that bond, he thought, was lost. This, too, feels right. His smile, full of life and laughter, brings him hope.

He smiles freely from the heart, inspired by his companion. He lets him lace their fingers at his own pace before following through at the end with no hesitation or second thoughts.

Hope. Inspiration. And now, encouragement. A pleasant cocktail of feelings fills his chest to bursting. ]

You're good at this.

[likethelight]

[ It's ironic, as Allen is a dichotomy on it. Guarded and giving. Affectionate and arms-length. Private and transparent. Crushing his own feelings while also wearing them openly on his sleeve. Wanting and giving affection while also shying away from it. Black and white, light and dark.

It's because it depends. It always depends, both on the person and the situation. His feelings always strong, so strong, and that he used to bury in order to be more palatable to others in order to keep his vows. Too strong, to the point where he learned which ones to crush and bury and which to own unblinkingly; a dichotomy. It's the thing that leaves most people realizing they might have spent so much time with him, might have felt such a connection with, so very close to -- and yet also... never really knew that much about truly. Usually something he does out of wanting to protect others, from himself and feeling burdened by the sheer immensity of the weight he puts on himself. From the fact his very nature, back in his world, caused his friends pain -- and in fact led many to hate him, allies and people he once called friends included. The child and even teenager that was spit on and called hideous and a monster, deranged and probably a cultist, and sold off into the freak show by his parents when he could barely walk simply for looking the way he did. Who nobody, technically, ever even bothered to give a proper name and instead took on one that had belonged to a dead dog.

The man who was thrown in prison by his own people and the home he had loved and called a traitor; the enemy. Clapped in irons and left in the dark. Turned fugitive when he escaped. His kindness and gentle feelings didn't matter to them; in fact it's what got him condemned.

It makes him so very cautious, so very outright paranoid to a degree, even if he's so adept at how he presents himself that it's harder to pick up on. Because of not just one coping mechanism, but several coping mechanisms he's adopted over the years just to survive. Layers of different sorts of trauma, and finding whatever way it takes to keep going and keep smiling. Always keep walking. Always keep smiling because grief only brings more grief. Grief brings death and worse; that's the nature of his world. So his guards and walls are so very high, both to protect himself... but also others. Paradoxically able to be arms-length by being so very friendly, to the point where he can be surrounded by so many people he'd call friend while still only able to truly trust and rely on one: Timcanpy. Because he's different from them. He's always so fundamentally different and alone from them because of his vows, no matter all the friendly and loving feelings in the world.

The boy who wears a smiling mask even when he feels like crying. Smoke and mirrors. Who learned to smother his own despair, his own need for kindness and subsequent guilt at accepting it, because he went insane from it once before.

At least, that's how it always was. How his previous life had been. Things changed. A lot of things changed. Most notably the very nature of existence and why he had been a danger to others -- probably? but... more subtly, too.

Meeting people he doesn't feel like he has to hide a part of himself from, notably.

Meeting people whose hand you want to hold, and not feeling like it's a fleeting sort of thing to enjoy the rare moment of before reluctantly drawing back before that closeness hurts one or the other. (Lenalee, who always looked so worried and cried for him.) To realize maybe it's okay to want that and it's not the end of the world, that life actually could be that and not just fighting and dying: a life, smiling and happy with the people you care about. Being able to make people smile and not just existing to destroy, even if it's to destroy with the intent of saving. Without feeling like he has to forsake his vows, because he's had to make new ones because he is... new. And that they're no longer mutually exclusive anymore.

And that so very strangely, having someone else in your life that for the first time since Mana -- he really doesn't feel like he needs to have any sort of guard. Doesn't even realize it isn't there at all, maybe because of some kindred sense, and it can just be feeling the warmth of the moment and smiling together. Of belonging.

It feels like throwing so much out the window -- and that is so very freeing. Makes him lighthearted, being able to exist so genuinely around someone and laugh freely. Even if it's also baffling sometimes.

So that comment gets just get such a very curious blink and tip of his head. So very comfortable in the moment that it goes right by him. ]

Eh? [ It's mildly quizzical. He's-- what? ]

'This'?

[swellter]

[ Ironic indeed when he’s an ever-swinging pendulum that never seems to settle in the middle where most people meet. Brimming with emotion or stoic. There’s rarely a balance. Much like his quirk, his feelings swing from one extreme to the other. He’s an open book if you have the right key. Quiet and unobtrusive until he’s prompted. Then, he moves mountains. Animated and alive or quiet and pensive.

He's the antithesis from the tip of his hair to the heel of his boot. Perfectly cut in half. Almost like he’s two different people inhabiting the same body. The hero who embodies control and the child who’s easily set off with the right word or action. Fickle like a cat. Yet, loyal, steadfast, and trustworthy. It all depends on the person. He’s a rock with many but give him someone who truly matters, who can get under his skin, and they can set off that pendulum and play him like a fiddle.

Throughout their adventures, Allen has become one of those people. Trench has a way of doing that to its inhabitants. Pitting them against the impossible and setting them loose. What comes after is a broken friendship or an enduring one. You get what you see with him. Only there’s an iceberg underneath the waves. He means what he says and says what he means. He won’t give you white lies or hide his feelings if he’s aware of them, but therein lies the issue.

He’s broken.

He struggles with knowing himself. He knows his mind; it’s always been sharp, but the other. The heart. It’s broken. Laid out in pieces from years of abuse. He’s spent the last year trying to piece it together, but there are still missing pieces. What little of the puzzle he's managed to piece together he holds dear. They bind him to the good and bad in his life.

Allen is one of those good things. Kind and full of laughter. He feels at ease with him, and he thinks that he truly does embody his creed. ]

Inspiring people. Giving them hope.

[ You know. ]

Being a Priest.

[likethelight]

[ For a moment, Allen... he looks so very surprised at that. Inspiring people, giving them hope... it's like that was the last thing he thought the other would say, but his expression also softens because of it. So very touched. And--

And then he balks. ]

E-eh?! Priest? [ hahahahaha what? where did he get that???

He makes an offhanded wave with his free hand, looking incredibly sheepish with a nervous smile. Oh, no! Nono! What did he do to give that impression. ]

I'm not a priest, I don't even have any of that sort of training! My master was one, but he wasn't even a good one... [ charlatan... ]

[swellter]

[ But if you're not a priest... then... ]

But you're an Exorcist.

[likethelight]

[ Is... is that why? He should have expected. This again.

He gives a weak laugh. ]

Yes, well... That's a different sort of thing...

[swellter]

But your Master was one. Doesn't that mean, you're going to be one too?

Like Pro-Heroes and their interns.

[ Like him. ]

[likethelight]

[ He wrinkles his nose slightly at that. That's... actually logical. Damn. ]

My master was also a bastard. [ wryly ]

He was a priest, but he was also a lot of things... But mostly he was an Exorcist -- a General. [ he pauses ] The strongest one.

[ Sometimes he'd wondered that, and it was a little painful in the wake of his death and realizing someone could actually kill something that, to Allen, was ten feet tall and bulletproof, but... He was. Still was, to Allen. ]

That's what he trained me for.