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[semi-open] harbinger of suffering and grief
WHO: Ryoji and whoever doesn't sleep at night, I guess
WHERE: Apprassage to various places around the city, Recollé Woods
WHEN: midnight 5/17 and onward towards the end of the month
WHAT: Ryoji regains his Thanatos form; unable to control his powers, he flees, leaving destruction in his wake. He's generally very upset about it all. Please help.
WARNINGS: fighting, violence, mentions of death and suicide
[ —a screech pierces the stillness of night over the quiet streets of Apprassage, the bite of burnt rubber and asphalt filling in the space where a car now lies turned around and stalling traffic, shattered windshields spilling glass onto the street and the crumpled hood sending smoke into the air. The blaring of the car alarm falls on deaf ears of the boy standing before it, eyes wide and unseeing as he clutches his head and screams, the shimmering barrier around him dissolving back into darkness and then— ]
A. midnight, 5/17, various (CLOSED to those I talked to on May's plotting post here)
[ A brilliant flash lights up the sky outside, brief, overwhelming, then everything is plunged back into darkness. Whether the noise had woken you up, or you were awake in the dead of night to begin with, eyes lifted towards the sky might spot a shadow take off past the rooftops, deep rumble felt through the earth behind it.
Those who venture closer— the curious, the brave, the foolish— would find deep gashes on the roads, dragged long as if a sword pulled across the ground, scattered potholes still burning with the last wisps of an eerie glow. The sky flashes again, the shadow in the middle a dark hole that swallows up all light, monstrous figure apparent with the stark contrast that makes it easy to follow; even blind, one can do so by listening for the unearthly wail that cuts through the air and may dizzy the mind even from so far.
Close, it's hard to see, harder to believe: a sharp white mask reflecting the moonlight; serrated sword out of its scabbard and caked with dirt and rubble; coffins draped across its shoulder, rattling and coming for you. Every encounter brings it further and further out away from the innermost parts of the city, and each time, Thanatos stops and turns, breath visible as it chills the very air around it, waiting.
>> Hollingberry Field
>> Recollé Woods
>> Peach Beach
>> The ocean
>> ???
Select your arena, and let's go. ]
B. nights, 5/18 onward, Recollé woods (CLOSED to those above, and anybody who has interacted with Ryoji at least once before)
[ The pain disappears faster than it should have, but Ryoji would have preferred it to the emptiness in his chest, the way his hands won't stop shaking. He fumbles with his phone, startling when a twig snaps underfoot and he throws it from himself as if it burnt his hands.
He leaves the phone there for the time being, nestled on top of damp, rotting leaves as he picks his way a little deeper into the woods, a mutter under his breath: "Keep yourself together." Because whatever... whatever happened yesterday, he can't let it happen again, losing control and hurting others— killing, for all he knows, because he'd fled to the woods and hasn't gone back since the night before, hasn't talked to anybody in person except for some texts on the phone.
He's got to figure it out. Somehow.
It's here in the woods he'll stay until he can, out of the way and hoping nobody would come near after the unnerving draw of the woods earlier in the month, practicing under the veil of night. He'll manage it eventually, the flicker of shadow and a rumble, a light show, the splintering crack of felled trees. He's not as careful as he could be, frustrated, exhausted, distracted enough not to notice whoever approaches to see the arched back of a boy, head bowed and clutching his knees as he struggles back to his feet... or the back of a monster, sword in hand gleaming with the moon. ]
C. days, 5/22 onward, various (OTA)
[ Days pass, and it feels like he understands less and less of who and what he is... and why... The first time it happened, only a handful of days ago, it was a car accident. He'd frozen there in the middle of the street, staring down the pair of headlights as they approached. He had not died. He should have...
...Ryoji shakes the thought out of his head. Something had protected him, a power that welled up from within and then- gone. He couldn't do it again, hold out his hands and block the fluttering of petals onto his head in the park, or the cat that meets him on the road, rubbing its head against his ankles twice and then runs.
Maybe it had to be something similar, either to the situation or the feeling; there's no way he can know but to try, reckless and stupid as he stands by the busy streets of Tisse contemplating stepping out into traffic; holds a switchblade in his hand on the rooftop of an apartment building in Apprassage, flicking the blade in, out, in, out; up high on the bridges of the Towers, leaning dangerously over the edge as he stares down at the ground far, far below; at the zoo in front of the lion's cage trying to get it to wake up so he can climb the fence and stick his head inside its mouth; he doesn't know, nothing's working and he needs to know. ]
D. 5/26 onward, various (OTA)
[the one lighter prompt, save me ]
Hey. Hold out your hand for a moment? I want your opinion on something.
[ If you comply, Ryoji tugs out from beneath his collar a thin silver chain, on the end of which a gold ring dangles momentarily before he presses it into the palm of your hand, closing your fingers back over it. Despite having been tucked under his shirt, the ring is cold against your skin, a faint glow emitting from in between your fingers while no sun reaches it inside your hand. ]
...How does this make you feel?
[ Stupid, probably, as if holding a ring would evoke some sort of emotion, but that's what it does for Ryoji, looking equal parts expectant and hopeful as he looks from you, to the ring delivered to his door courtesy of Retrospec, and then back. ]
--
( ooc: Aside from being able to shift into the form of Thanatos, Ryoji's powers include: ghastly wail (fearful opponents fall unconscious), tempest slash (sword attack), megidola (almighty magic attack), moonless gown (barrier that reflects all attacks, max three activation per day))
WHERE: Apprassage to various places around the city, Recollé Woods
WHEN: midnight 5/17 and onward towards the end of the month
WHAT: Ryoji regains his Thanatos form; unable to control his powers, he flees, leaving destruction in his wake. He's generally very upset about it all. Please help.
WARNINGS: fighting, violence, mentions of death and suicide
[ —a screech pierces the stillness of night over the quiet streets of Apprassage, the bite of burnt rubber and asphalt filling in the space where a car now lies turned around and stalling traffic, shattered windshields spilling glass onto the street and the crumpled hood sending smoke into the air. The blaring of the car alarm falls on deaf ears of the boy standing before it, eyes wide and unseeing as he clutches his head and screams, the shimmering barrier around him dissolving back into darkness and then— ]
A. midnight, 5/17, various (CLOSED to those I talked to on May's plotting post here)
[ A brilliant flash lights up the sky outside, brief, overwhelming, then everything is plunged back into darkness. Whether the noise had woken you up, or you were awake in the dead of night to begin with, eyes lifted towards the sky might spot a shadow take off past the rooftops, deep rumble felt through the earth behind it.
Those who venture closer— the curious, the brave, the foolish— would find deep gashes on the roads, dragged long as if a sword pulled across the ground, scattered potholes still burning with the last wisps of an eerie glow. The sky flashes again, the shadow in the middle a dark hole that swallows up all light, monstrous figure apparent with the stark contrast that makes it easy to follow; even blind, one can do so by listening for the unearthly wail that cuts through the air and may dizzy the mind even from so far.
Close, it's hard to see, harder to believe: a sharp white mask reflecting the moonlight; serrated sword out of its scabbard and caked with dirt and rubble; coffins draped across its shoulder, rattling and coming for you. Every encounter brings it further and further out away from the innermost parts of the city, and each time, Thanatos stops and turns, breath visible as it chills the very air around it, waiting.
>> Hollingberry Field
>> Recollé Woods
>> Peach Beach
>> The ocean
>> ???
Select your arena, and let's go. ]
B. nights, 5/18 onward, Recollé woods (CLOSED to those above, and anybody who has interacted with Ryoji at least once before)
[ The pain disappears faster than it should have, but Ryoji would have preferred it to the emptiness in his chest, the way his hands won't stop shaking. He fumbles with his phone, startling when a twig snaps underfoot and he throws it from himself as if it burnt his hands.
He leaves the phone there for the time being, nestled on top of damp, rotting leaves as he picks his way a little deeper into the woods, a mutter under his breath: "Keep yourself together." Because whatever... whatever happened yesterday, he can't let it happen again, losing control and hurting others— killing, for all he knows, because he'd fled to the woods and hasn't gone back since the night before, hasn't talked to anybody in person except for some texts on the phone.
He's got to figure it out. Somehow.
It's here in the woods he'll stay until he can, out of the way and hoping nobody would come near after the unnerving draw of the woods earlier in the month, practicing under the veil of night. He'll manage it eventually, the flicker of shadow and a rumble, a light show, the splintering crack of felled trees. He's not as careful as he could be, frustrated, exhausted, distracted enough not to notice whoever approaches to see the arched back of a boy, head bowed and clutching his knees as he struggles back to his feet... or the back of a monster, sword in hand gleaming with the moon. ]
C. days, 5/22 onward, various (OTA)
[ Days pass, and it feels like he understands less and less of who and what he is... and why... The first time it happened, only a handful of days ago, it was a car accident. He'd frozen there in the middle of the street, staring down the pair of headlights as they approached. He had not died. He should have...
...Ryoji shakes the thought out of his head. Something had protected him, a power that welled up from within and then- gone. He couldn't do it again, hold out his hands and block the fluttering of petals onto his head in the park, or the cat that meets him on the road, rubbing its head against his ankles twice and then runs.
Maybe it had to be something similar, either to the situation or the feeling; there's no way he can know but to try, reckless and stupid as he stands by the busy streets of Tisse contemplating stepping out into traffic; holds a switchblade in his hand on the rooftop of an apartment building in Apprassage, flicking the blade in, out, in, out; up high on the bridges of the Towers, leaning dangerously over the edge as he stares down at the ground far, far below; at the zoo in front of the lion's cage trying to get it to wake up so he can climb the fence and stick his head inside its mouth; he doesn't know, nothing's working and he needs to know. ]
D. 5/26 onward, various (OTA)
[
Hey. Hold out your hand for a moment? I want your opinion on something.
[ If you comply, Ryoji tugs out from beneath his collar a thin silver chain, on the end of which a gold ring dangles momentarily before he presses it into the palm of your hand, closing your fingers back over it. Despite having been tucked under his shirt, the ring is cold against your skin, a faint glow emitting from in between your fingers while no sun reaches it inside your hand. ]
...How does this make you feel?
[ Stupid, probably, as if holding a ring would evoke some sort of emotion, but that's what it does for Ryoji, looking equal parts expectant and hopeful as he looks from you, to the ring delivered to his door courtesy of Retrospec, and then back. ]
--
( ooc: Aside from being able to shift into the form of Thanatos, Ryoji's powers include: ghastly wail (fearful opponents fall unconscious), tempest slash (sword attack), megidola (almighty magic attack), moonless gown (barrier that reflects all attacks, max three activation per day))
B... laterish in the month
One night as he heads for the river (it's nice to fall asleep to its gentle babble), he spies the shape of a person in the woods. Yato rarely runs across other people here, especially at night, so he instinctively quiets himself and observes from behind a tree. The person turns, just a little, and Yato makes out just enough of his face. Isn't that... Ryoji?
He frowns, on the verge of revealing himself to ask what Ryoji is up to out here, when something strange happens. The shadows play in front of him, the sound of a deep rumble -- and then he's blinded by light. When his eyesight returns, Ryoji is gone and something else stands in his place.
Hunched and slim, dressed in a grim coat with -- are those coffins? A being so otherworldly and eerie, that for the first time in years, Yato feels a chill in his heart. It's been a long time since he's felt this -- a raw, instinctual fear.
And yet... isn't that Ryoji? Ryoji was literally standing there a second ago, wasn't he? As much as he doesn't see eye-to-eye with the guy, Yato can't walk away without at least attempting to verify that Ryoji as a person is still somewhere in this picture. Yuuko would kill him if he didn't...
So uh. Against his better judgment, Yato separates from the tree. He eyes the giant bread knife in the thing's hand and carefully rests his hand on the hilt of his sword. ]
Ryoji?
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(fear)
a deep seated dread upon seeing the face of somebody he knows, mirrored between them if only Thanatos had a face behind its mask, soulless eyes staring down at Yato and it does not speak. It cannot, for fear. For guilt, for shame, for the inevitable regret that will come with answering in Ryoji's voice, for the sword in Yato's hands that will be driven through its throat and carved down its chest and Thanatos will have to kill him.
It's fear with which Thanatos turns to Yato, coffins spreading behind it like wings and blocking out any last trace of moonlight from the sky so that he may join it in a world of shadow. Fear that allows a single glimmer of light, bright and glowing between the jaws of its mask, danger. Fear that Thanatos hopes strikes at Yato's heart as well, so that he may scared into leaving and running away, never to return, because
Ryoji Mochizuki is dead.
In his place, Death. ]
no subject
Run. Run. Run. That would be the reasonable thing to do. There were monsters in his memories, wild and eerie, but none were like this. This is cold, and dreadful, and deadly. He's out of his depth.
Except the time for flight has already passed. Something primal tells him not to turn his back on this creature. Especially not with its gaze turned toward him. He must fight to survive. ]
Come on, Ryoji. You hunched bastard.
[ His jaw is tense, his expression tight. He's already breaking into a cold sweat. But he has one comfort: the sword under his hand. It's too shiny and new and made in a factory for all he knows, but it's righteous sharp. He draws it in a smooth motion that comes too naturally, and he finds reassurance as much as trepidation in the death on its edge. Men, women, and children alike fell screaming to his blade. It was such fun to play...
Yato's hands tighten hard on his sword's grip. Yet his battle-ready stance remains true, somehow more easy and confident than it ever was before. In fact, everything feels easier now. Like his body grew wiser without him knowing, now that he has a sword in his hands.
It actually feels like he might be able to do this. It's a foolish notion, but it's there all the same. For the first time, he actually feels like he might be a god of war. ]
Snap out of it. Or I'll do the snapping for you.
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In sword fighting, Thanatos is still sloppy, worse by the day as Ryoji struggles against the instinct as Thanatos to slice apart the earth and kill all that stands in its way, struggling against not blind rage, but a certain coldness that allows Thanatos to stand there, see so clearly that person once— still— considered a friend, and not care where its blade falls. That is what scares Ryoji more than anything right now, as Thanatos' blade crosses with Yato's: the not caring.
Thanatos is relentless because it does not care, of pain or anger, be it dealt or received. There is no sympathy in those empty eyes, no consideration for an even match when its idea of mercy is granting Yato a swift and clean death. The sword in its hand slashes down, a single cut with the force of a hurricane that strips leaves and branches off the surrounding trees. But regardless of how or where or if it lands, Thanatos recoils sharply on impact as if stung, a human heart that still hurts, somewhere. ]
no subject
But a mindless sword is a predictable one. Yato raises his sword to parry, and even he's a little surprised to find that he raises it in time. The sawtooth edge of the creature's sword drags at Yato's, ripping Yato's stance wide as he allows his sword to slide past his body rather than absorb the full shock of that torrential blow.
He's never been in a real swordfight before -- kendo with Yamato is playtime compared to this -- and yet movement comes naturally. Like a dance. He only has to feel the flow. If this creature is raw force, then Yato is water. Wrenched sideways, his body rides the momentum. He whirls -- and though the creature has oddly recoiled, Yato won't relent. If Thanatos doesn't move, it'll find a savage tornado of a kick to its masked head. ]
Ryoji! I know you're in there, you sunny asshole!
no subject
The name hurts, more than the insults, more than the kick to the mask that it takes head-on, slashes and strikes easier to withstand than the human name, called with the belief that it's still him. It only makes him want to withdraw further behind Thanatos' mask that snaps at Yato's legs, to let Thanatos take over because Thanatos can fight and protect and kill—
—it could win, where Ryoji would never be able to win against Yato, whose beliefs are strong, mind clear, unwavering like the sword in his hands—
The sword Thanatos carries swings at Yato again, and again, and again, no matter how many times it is parried, each blow making Thanatos stagger, movements slowed, but relentless for it cannot stop until either of them are dead. ]
no subject
Still, even with its movements tampered with, this is a fearsome opponent. No matter how quickly Yato parries, that serrated blade sneaks around his sword and nicks him in the arms and legs. The force of its blows bends him at the knees and digs his sword painfully into his hands. He can feel it sapping at his strength. This cannot go on for long.
When he decides that the creature won't ease up, that its stop-and-go hesitations are superficial at best, he begins to strike back. Each time the thing staggers, his blade flickers out for a taste of its blood. But never too far, never too deep -- because this is still Ryoji, he thinks, and the human in Yato does not want to kill. It's a troublesome spot, hesitating to hurt something that dearly wants you dead. But this is still Ryoji -- bright, too-full-of-love Ryoji -- whom Yato is always frustrated with, but who still deserves to live. ]
I know you're listening, Ryoji! And I know you always snap out of this eventually-- [ He spins away from a blow and cuts at the opening it leaves. ] --because this has happened more than once. You can't even be subtle when you're all the way out in the woods, can you?
[ The serrated blade thunders at him again, and he redirects it past him with the edge of his sword. But this time when the creature staggers, Yato lunges forward and shoots a hand out to grasp the white mask by its eyeholes and drag it down to meet his own eyes, shining fierce and bright and blue in the shadow of the coffins. ]
Come back. Don't give me any of your lackluster crap. Come back, Ryoji!
no subject
It's a suicide run.
Each blow from the sword is also killing Thanatos itself- that's what Ryoji was learning in all these days in the woods. Him snapping out of it became less and less through his own willpower, and more from working Thanatos to exhaustion, blacking out, not wanting to wake up but forcing himself to so he can die all over again. In this way, he can start to understand Thanatos and how to coexist with it, even if it means giving in and giving up and not knowing how to stop.
Thanatos stabs its sword into the ground, hilt straight up to mark its grave (stop) its mask pressed against Yato's forehead as a roar escapes its throat, pitched too high it almost sounds like crying (stop) trying to drown out Yato's voice, Ryoji's thoughts (stop) holding Yato there as he holds onto it (stop) almighty magic pushing forth from its maw where Yato is so close (stop) there is no chance for escape (stop stop stopstopstop—) ]
—STOP IT!
[ A burst of light fills his vision, blinding, the sky illuminated with it. Ryoji's knees hit the ground, both hands clamped down on Yato's wrist, pulling down that hand which once held Thanatos' face, pulling him bodily closer to him as the sky flickers with magic that pulses through the air and rains down over their heads like hell fire... until it reaches the barrier that surrounds Ryoji and dissolves into light, the inside of the barrier shadow and quiet. ]
no subject
He may have been reckless coming into this fight.
But he's safe, thanks to Ryoji. Yato turns his eyes back to the earth and frowns at this boy who is somehow a demon. A god. A monster. Something else. Yet they are still human hands that hold his wrist.
Yato kneels with Ryoji until the light show has ended, silent. Now that there's nothing to fight, he is sapped of all strength. He slumps to the side and rolls onto his back, his hands beginning to tremble. He can't believe he's alive. ]
Was that so hard? [ he rasps, barely above a whisper. ] You did it, stupid.
no subject
You're stupid.
[ Running towards him instead of away. Encouraging and insulting him in the same breath. Calling him name the way he did. It was all so stupid. ]
Why did you come here? Nobody's supposed to come here.
no subject
I was heading for the river. Why, you think you own the woods? I'll come here if I want to.
[ His words are confrontational, but his tone is soft of edge. ]
So what, you've been trying to quarantine yourself?
no subject
Ryoji is the danger. It's in him— it is him. Sitting right here, brow furrowed and jaw clenched so tight it will be sore tomorrow.
How dare Yato laugh, when Ryoji feels as if he will never be able to again? ]
If you understand that, then you should also understand the reason why. You should have run away and left me alone.
no subject
[ The laughter is gone. In its place, resolution. Yato is simple at heart -- a weakness as much as it is a strength. If something can be done, then do it. As long as you draw breath, things will be alright eventually. Some would say he's simple to the point of stupidity. But it leaves his vision unclouded, most days, and that's what helps him march through life. ]
Answer me: did you change back into yourself of your own will?
no subject
Eventually, Ryoji answers, but not without addendum because he cannot answer this simply. ]
Yes. This time.
no subject
And next time. We're doing this again.
no subject
[ Ryoji's voice pitches when panicked, scrambling back away from Yato as if he would brandish his sword right here and force Thanatos out from him so that they could grapple all over again. ]
Yato, go home!
no subject
Not tonight, obviously. Tomorrow. When do you usually change?
no subject
[ Why is he even asking if he's obviously been seeing Ryoji's struggles in the forest, unsubtle as they are, night after night at each turn of a new day. ]
no subject
Well, that works just as well. If it'll keep you from changing, I can sit with you all night.
[ If Ryoji is going to be difficult, Yato will happily be just as difficult. ]
no subject
Ryoji pushes himself off the ground and grabs for Yato's wrist. There's no protection this time; he's going to drag Yato out of the forest and kick him out himself if he has to. ]
I said, go home!
no subject
Well that's fine, he'll just fetch it later when he COMES BACK TO FIGHT RYOJI. ]
No! I wanna go to the river!
[ He PUULLLS back toward said river, resisting with all his might. He will fight Ryoji a second time for this, don't even doubt it. ]
no subject
Push comes to shove and Ryoji lets Yato fall if that's what he really wants; Ryoji can be childish too, especially if Yato's not listening. ]
Then follow that river all the way to the ocean and stay there, don't come back!
no subject
You have a choice, Ryoji. You can deal with this alone -- badly, I take it. Or you can work with someone who can defend himself and push yourself a different way. The faster you get this under the control, the better.
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I can't let you be that someone. [ Yato could match Thanatos with his sword, but what of a megidola to the face? What if Ryoji hadn't been able to wrangle himself back in time? ] You have a life to go back to, that I can't take from you. The only reason I could change back last time was because I couldn't let you die-- You can't trust me to do that again.
no subject
[ Good with a sword? A tenacious bastard? It isn't just that, and he knows it.
He's changing. The clues are there.
No one has stopped him about his sword because they can't see it. They can't see him. Even if they answer him when he grabs for their attention, their startled looks when their eyes finally focus on him say everything.
It is the beginning of an end. Ryoji says Yato has a life to return to. Yato wonders what kind of life that will be. ]
I am a god. A warrior god. If I'm not good for this, then no one is.
[ It's a bold proclamation, but it arrives like a confession. This is something he has to admit to himself. ]
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