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plummeting through life | open
WHO: Yato and you!
WHERE: Outside of Recolle Jail, various
WHEN: Saturday, July 15 (backdated)
WHAT: Yato springs himself out of jail and grapples with weightlessness to the inconvenience of all.
WARNINGS: None!
A. Defying gravity (badly) | OTA
[ Maybe you’re on your way to the hospital or Worship Corner. Maybe you’re a cop leaving the station, about to make your rounds. Maybe you’re just passing through to get across town. Whatever reason you have to be in Tribunal Terrace, you’re in danger of getting wrecking balled by one (1) god in what is plainly a jail uniform.
Yato woke up this morning with his body feeling curiously light -- a sensation he knew might be coming someday, given the detachment he always feels in his hallucinomemories. Like he only has one foot in the physical world. The other is rooted on a different shore, far less tangible.
He knew this was coming, and yet it’s a frightening feeling in real life, waking up with part of him gone. Over a hundred pounds of bone and tissue, simply pulled out of him. He takes up just as much volume, but his mass is all gone. Where did it go? Where is he going?
The man named Yato is drifting away to a place unseen, immeasurable. It saddens him in a way he cannot grasp.
When he walks, it’s a wonder he doesn’t fly. It’s a miracle that his feet still touch the floor of his gray jail cell. He paces like an animal caged, but in reality he’s only trying to relearn his body. It’s one thing to go for a ride in another Yato’s body in a hallucinomemory, and a whole other thing to take the wheel. He doesn’t need to dig his feet into the ground so forcefully or expect so much impact on his joints. Sometimes he has to touch himself to make sure he’s still all here.
Once he has the walking thing down and it’s about time for his recreational allowance, he shouts at a guard to let him out. The guard is, as usual, visibly surprised to see that an inmate has been in the cell all along and cuffs Yato to take him along to the exercise yard. When he’s uncuffed again and the guard walks away, Yato waits to be forgotten again. The guards always forget when they look away. He could spend all day in the exercise yard if he wanted to. Finally, Yato winds himself up, runs -- and jumps for the fortress wall of the prison.
He sails clear over it with rather less composure than he’d like to admit, the magnitude of his leap vastly exceeding his own expectations. It’s almost peaceful way up in the air, the sounds of the city falling away for a few brief seconds. And then all too soon he’s plummeting back to the earth, about to land who-knows-where. If it’s on the ground, then the good news is that it won’t hurt Yato. If it’s on a car or some other hollow object, then the good news is that he’ll only leave a little dent. You can totally buff that out. If it’s on a person, then the good news is that with his fractional weight, he won’t kill them… probably.
In any case, SURPRISE… A blue-eyed jail escapee is dropping into your life. ]
B. A sentimental god | for existing CR
[ After hopping back into jail, retrieving his possessions, and giving his clothes a much needed washing in the jail laundry room, Yato hops out of jail for good in his classic tracksuit and his hair done up in a tiny ponytail. He immediately eschews walking the streets in favor of (very carefully) hopping across building tops, tripping along fences, and missing lampposts completely. What can he say? It’s a lot more fun than walking sidewalks in boring old straight lines and waiting for traffic lights.
Now that he’s free, he has some friends to visit. The Inkwell first, then individual homes. In jail, he entertained the notion of letting his friends forget him while he was languishing there -- for their own good. But now that he’s out, he can’t control himself; he wants to see his friends. It’s been about three weeks. He wouldn’t be surprised if some of them needed their memories of him jumpstarted. The thought doesn’t sting nearly as much as it used to.
So whether you’re at home, at work, or wandering the streets of Recolle, Yato is here to nose his way back into your life. He’ll even be quiet and polite about it for once. Just sidling up on in there. Looking over your shoulder to see what you’re doing on your phone. Staring at you from directly behind the person you’re actually talking to. Eating your food. Falling on you instead of landing coolly in front of you like he was trying to do. You know. Polite.
Or maybe you spot him first, walking unsteadily along a telephone line that bends lightly under his weight. Or just as likely, he could be misjudging a leap, tripping off a building, and faceplanting into the side of the next one before falling to the ground with a light thump. But it's fine. He's fine. ]
C. Wildcard
[ do ya thing ]
(( as always, here are interaction notes for yato! they’re less rules and more guidelines, go nuts ))
WHERE: Outside of Recolle Jail, various
WHEN: Saturday, July 15 (backdated)
WHAT: Yato springs himself out of jail and grapples with weightlessness to the inconvenience of all.
WARNINGS: None!
A. Defying gravity (badly) | OTA
[ Maybe you’re on your way to the hospital or Worship Corner. Maybe you’re a cop leaving the station, about to make your rounds. Maybe you’re just passing through to get across town. Whatever reason you have to be in Tribunal Terrace, you’re in danger of getting wrecking balled by one (1) god in what is plainly a jail uniform.
Yato woke up this morning with his body feeling curiously light -- a sensation he knew might be coming someday, given the detachment he always feels in his hallucinomemories. Like he only has one foot in the physical world. The other is rooted on a different shore, far less tangible.
He knew this was coming, and yet it’s a frightening feeling in real life, waking up with part of him gone. Over a hundred pounds of bone and tissue, simply pulled out of him. He takes up just as much volume, but his mass is all gone. Where did it go? Where is he going?
The man named Yato is drifting away to a place unseen, immeasurable. It saddens him in a way he cannot grasp.
When he walks, it’s a wonder he doesn’t fly. It’s a miracle that his feet still touch the floor of his gray jail cell. He paces like an animal caged, but in reality he’s only trying to relearn his body. It’s one thing to go for a ride in another Yato’s body in a hallucinomemory, and a whole other thing to take the wheel. He doesn’t need to dig his feet into the ground so forcefully or expect so much impact on his joints. Sometimes he has to touch himself to make sure he’s still all here.
Once he has the walking thing down and it’s about time for his recreational allowance, he shouts at a guard to let him out. The guard is, as usual, visibly surprised to see that an inmate has been in the cell all along and cuffs Yato to take him along to the exercise yard. When he’s uncuffed again and the guard walks away, Yato waits to be forgotten again. The guards always forget when they look away. He could spend all day in the exercise yard if he wanted to. Finally, Yato winds himself up, runs -- and jumps for the fortress wall of the prison.
He sails clear over it with rather less composure than he’d like to admit, the magnitude of his leap vastly exceeding his own expectations. It’s almost peaceful way up in the air, the sounds of the city falling away for a few brief seconds. And then all too soon he’s plummeting back to the earth, about to land who-knows-where. If it’s on the ground, then the good news is that it won’t hurt Yato. If it’s on a car or some other hollow object, then the good news is that he’ll only leave a little dent. You can totally buff that out. If it’s on a person, then the good news is that with his fractional weight, he won’t kill them… probably.
In any case, SURPRISE… A blue-eyed jail escapee is dropping into your life. ]
B. A sentimental god | for existing CR
[ After hopping back into jail, retrieving his possessions, and giving his clothes a much needed washing in the jail laundry room, Yato hops out of jail for good in his classic tracksuit and his hair done up in a tiny ponytail. He immediately eschews walking the streets in favor of (very carefully) hopping across building tops, tripping along fences, and missing lampposts completely. What can he say? It’s a lot more fun than walking sidewalks in boring old straight lines and waiting for traffic lights.
Now that he’s free, he has some friends to visit. The Inkwell first, then individual homes. In jail, he entertained the notion of letting his friends forget him while he was languishing there -- for their own good. But now that he’s out, he can’t control himself; he wants to see his friends. It’s been about three weeks. He wouldn’t be surprised if some of them needed their memories of him jumpstarted. The thought doesn’t sting nearly as much as it used to.
So whether you’re at home, at work, or wandering the streets of Recolle, Yato is here to nose his way back into your life. He’ll even be quiet and polite about it for once. Just sidling up on in there. Looking over your shoulder to see what you’re doing on your phone. Staring at you from directly behind the person you’re actually talking to. Eating your food. Falling on you instead of landing coolly in front of you like he was trying to do. You know. Polite.
Or maybe you spot him first, walking unsteadily along a telephone line that bends lightly under his weight. Or just as likely, he could be misjudging a leap, tripping off a building, and faceplanting into the side of the next one before falling to the ground with a light thump. But it's fine. He's fine. ]
C. Wildcard
[ do ya thing ]
(( as always, here are interaction notes for yato! they’re less rules and more guidelines, go nuts ))
no subject
Ryoji stands below Yato, arms out to either side of him as if in praise or preparation to catch Yato when he falls— it's honestly amazing that he hasn't yet fallen— but really, it's for ]
I, Ryoji Mochizuki, am honored to accept the personal friendship of the great Yatogami. Now please come down here and give me my friendship hug.
[ What do you mean "don't get weird about it," don't call him out like that. ]
no subject
[ Yato's never really understood why Ryoji keeps trying to act buddy-buddy with him, what with how plain it's been that Yato only barely manages to tolerate Ryoji. Surely, Ryoji can't be desperate for friends when he already has so many. Yato looks down at him like one might look down on crocodile-infested waters. But after a moment, he does... hop down from the wire... Not exactly inviting a hug, mind you, but he's here?? ]
You say "friendship hug" like it's obligatory.
no subject
It's not obligatory, but... it's what people do among friends? It's something I would wait forever for, the sentiment of being welcomed, the warmth of another person close enough to share a heart beat, a hug is like saying... "Stay here, don't go."
no subject
[ Like YES Yato believes in the power of hugs, but sharing a heartbeat?? This is some heavy shit man, a hug is just a hug. He stares some more at Ryoji, like he's working himself up maybe actually hugging him. ]
This stays between us. Don't hug and tell.
no subject
anyways, Yato's too slow, so Ryoji goes in for the kill and wraps his arms around Yato's shoulders, effectively trapping his arms so he can't hug Ryoji back even if he wanted to. ]
I won't tell.
[ He doesn't have to. They're standing in the middle of the street where everybody can see. ]