( mini-plot post: open to all )
Who:
jawdacity & all of cerealia!
When: towards the end of the event (so this won't conflict with any event threads you may already have going). 2-3pm.
Where: Abandoned village + surrounding jungle
What: THERE ARE EXPLOSIONS. And mushrooms.
Rating/Warning: Possible NSFW for gore?
Details about this mini-plot HERE
(theme song of this post, courtesy of
moribound.)
[ it's another muggy, meandering day in the jungle; nothing seems to be out of the ordinary. ]
IN THE VILLAGE
[ if your character is near the center of the village, they'll bear witness to the curious sight of a herd of shuffling mushroom beasts. in terms of threat level, to the experienced hunter they may have ranked low on the scale: slow, lacking an external fang or claw, they seem to be interested only in their endless march forward.
but, if your character is close enough, they may catch sight of a red-haired young man, a manifesto of anger written across his face. one breathless moment, the calm before the storm, and then he hurls a metallic pair of gloves at the closest beast, the gloves trailing arcs of flame.
what may strike your character first is the searing heat, the thrum of the earth below their feet. the whole village is demolished in a moment, the dying cries of the beasts rising above the din. the explosion lasts much longer than it should, the line of mushrooms going up one after another.
if you're too close, you might be torn in two. you might lose a limb, or two, or three. you might go deaf, you might lose your sight. you might lose all your eyelashes, your clothes. maybe the bag of mushrooms you'd collected for dinner is now little more than ash.
keep running. the smoke trails into the air. someone is screaming. the smell of charred meat follows you even after you disappear into the jungle. ]
IN THE SURROUNDING JUNGLE
[ if your character is close enough to the village, they'll feel the blasts, one after the other. the jungle is on fire, quickly spreading. maybe you'll hear the screaming, too; maybe your lungs will fill with smoke. maybe you'll run into one of the last mushroom beasts, fleeing from the explosion only to trigger a lesser one in the depths of the jungle.
it came from the village, didn't it? maybe someone you love was swept up in the explosion.
if you manage to escape the stampede of terrified jungle beasts (some of which may stop to crunch you up as a quick meal as they dash away from the blast), maybe you can venture closer to see what's happened.
or maybe you should get as far away as possible. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
When: towards the end of the event (so this won't conflict with any event threads you may already have going). 2-3pm.
Where: Abandoned village + surrounding jungle
What: THERE ARE EXPLOSIONS. And mushrooms.
Rating/Warning: Possible NSFW for gore?
Details about this mini-plot HERE
(theme song of this post, courtesy of
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
[ it's another muggy, meandering day in the jungle; nothing seems to be out of the ordinary. ]
IN THE VILLAGE
[ if your character is near the center of the village, they'll bear witness to the curious sight of a herd of shuffling mushroom beasts. in terms of threat level, to the experienced hunter they may have ranked low on the scale: slow, lacking an external fang or claw, they seem to be interested only in their endless march forward.
but, if your character is close enough, they may catch sight of a red-haired young man, a manifesto of anger written across his face. one breathless moment, the calm before the storm, and then he hurls a metallic pair of gloves at the closest beast, the gloves trailing arcs of flame.
what may strike your character first is the searing heat, the thrum of the earth below their feet. the whole village is demolished in a moment, the dying cries of the beasts rising above the din. the explosion lasts much longer than it should, the line of mushrooms going up one after another.
if you're too close, you might be torn in two. you might lose a limb, or two, or three. you might go deaf, you might lose your sight. you might lose all your eyelashes, your clothes. maybe the bag of mushrooms you'd collected for dinner is now little more than ash.
keep running. the smoke trails into the air. someone is screaming. the smell of charred meat follows you even after you disappear into the jungle. ]
IN THE SURROUNDING JUNGLE
[ if your character is close enough to the village, they'll feel the blasts, one after the other. the jungle is on fire, quickly spreading. maybe you'll hear the screaming, too; maybe your lungs will fill with smoke. maybe you'll run into one of the last mushroom beasts, fleeing from the explosion only to trigger a lesser one in the depths of the jungle.
it came from the village, didn't it? maybe someone you love was swept up in the explosion.
if you manage to escape the stampede of terrified jungle beasts (some of which may stop to crunch you up as a quick meal as they dash away from the blast), maybe you can venture closer to see what's happened.
or maybe you should get as far away as possible. ]
no subject
rei doesn't deserve the snap of his jaws, though, nor the misplaced anger that courses through him, hot as the flame that he'd left behind him.
fear isn't a stranger to rin, especially here in cerealia. but his days until now have been marked off by the occasional tremor, terrible in isolation but seldom carrying forward.
not like this, where one mistake feels inescapable. rin isn't thinking about the explosion, or strands of black sinew where his arm used to be, or all that must come from this point onwards. he's trying not to look at rei, knowing that one glance at that earnest face will - will unravel him to the barest bones. he's not ready for that. ]
There are people back there.
[ his hair in his face, his breath catching in his throat. he clears it; tries again. ]
Who need help.
[ is all that rin says, gaze fixed to a tree in the distance. broad leaves, saturated green. too bright. ]
no subject
Shock, seemingly, does not. But he knows it when he sees it, and trying to choke back the shaky cry that comes after, he inhales sharply and steels his expression.
It doesn't help much. He just has to try harder. He's not the one covered the afterbirth of an explosion, in lethal acidity and a foreign obscuring mask of smoke. He's not the one who has lost, here. He can feign strength, if nothing else.]
And you don't?!
[Maybe not the strongest of comebacks. It leaves too much to question, like Rin's state of undoing is up for debate. But if that's the case, well then, damn it, Ryugazaki, you are not allowed to lose.
That's when his breath catches in his throat again. It's too much, it's too much, and if this is what the real world is like, he doesn't want it. Real life isn't supposed to be fraught with so many tragedies rolled into one, as if they'd had a perpetual black cloud hanging over their heads, only shed by the coming of a hurricane.
But if he leaves Rin now, prioritizes strangers over one of his closest--projecting perhaps, too hopeful, but he considers it true--friends, what kind of friend does that make him?]
You're not in a state of mind to argue.
[It's a close to a discussion as he's entertaining on the subject. He doesn't need to theorize that. He knows.]
no subject
the pot had spilled over despite her concentration, no amount of stirring enough to overcome the fact that their mother had turned the burner too high. her hands had escaped the flood, but her calves had been burned pink by the boiling dashi, even the hiss of a spill not enough warning for her to jump away quickly enough.
he'd remembered that moment. when words hadn't been quick enough on his tongue. that endless moment, suspended in midair, where he'd been about to shout, when the dashi had been about to spill onto his little sister's legs.
this is a lot like that. except the dashi has torn his arm away. even a shout wouldn't have saved anyone; there's death settling like a fine powder into the creases of his hands, settling there for perpetuity.
rei doesn't understand. how can he?
the pain has begun to rise higher, its noise drowning out all else. gou's tiny hands clutched about the ladle. the blue curtains. the waxy image of skin melting in the aftermath of the explosion. zack's ashen skin. skin burned away, leaving only bone. blood. blood congealing into black tar.
rin doesn't want him to understand. ]
I did that. The explosion. I set it off.
[ it's a gauntlet thrown, his voice like a lash. ]
Don't you get it?!
[ his gaze is still fixed on a faraway point. ]
no subject
Rei has known Rin as many things. Too ambitious for his own good. Incredibly driven, even sometimes to the point of self-annihilation. Egotistical and yet incredibly kind, often in the same intake of breath. He may not have the years of memories with Rin that his other friends do, stacked up and yellowing in a photo box tucked away neatly in some forgotten corner for occasional perusing on days where the light is soft and time seems to have all but stopped, but he's seen Rin as he is now, at both highs and lows. He's seen enough to know that this friendship means something, that his initial sacrifice for this boy he'd barely known meant something.
He may not be able to comprehend this sacrifice, violent in a way he's never seen, but he understands enough. He knows the answer to that question before his internal monologue even finishes the word.
Rei is quiet for a moment, possibly too long. The anger in his friend's voice, and his distant focus don't quite add up. It's not a challenge, though Rin seems to think it is. It's an invitation for guilt.
And that doesn't add up to "on purpose" either.]
Yes, I get it.
[Though perhaps not in the way he should. The statement is simple, but the tone is carefully taught, not a hint of anger in it. This blame isn't his to issue.]
I get that you're still too stubborn to ask for help when you need it!
[Okay, so his composure isn't rock solid. Especially not
everwhen the reality of the situation starts to settle back into his periphery.]no subject
but then he'd surprised rin, and he'd continued to surprise rin up until the very end. up until now, where rin now stands with a clenched hand and a clenched heart, both singular, both terrible in their singularity, and finds no words. he takes a step back, hand to his forehead, and tries to pick words from the maelstrom, from the pain, from the lingering smell of charred meat. nothing comes but plumes of smoke.
rin takes another step backwards --
-- and nearly trips over a lolling form, too soft to be a protruding root. he glances behind himself, startled, only to catch sight of a river of blood --
but even that's melodrama, because it's only his sister's hair, spread in a bright banner across the ground. he forgets about the argument with rei all at once, dropping to his knees and nearly biting through his lip when the ensuing ripple of motion sends pain shooting outwards from its epicenter.
his palm flat to the ground, breath after breath drawn in and forced outwards.
he can't do anything. can't even reach up to check her pulse, his own thundering through his temples. first zack, then --
god, not his sister. not her. he's been a poor friend and a worse brother, but this is too much, beyond all boundaries of rationality or fairness. she's only a kid. she still looks at him the same way as she had when they were children, when he'd been a brother to her rather than a distant figure on the horizon. ]
Rei. [ it's a whisper. its repetition a roar. ]
no subject
Theirs was a world where direct, deadly violence was something relatively foreign, at least for Gou; the strong pain she experienced was emotional. Some of that was the simple existence in Iwatobi. Some of that was because of the people she associated with, soft with her even when they were harsh by nature.
Needless to say, pain, physical and present in overwhelming amounts, isn't something Gou's dealt with - ever. She's not out for long, unfortunately, and comes to with a gasp, her breathing labored and harsh, Rin's voice distant and vague, a roar heard through a wall.
Her legs are on fire. Focusing on them or trying to move her legs is a torment, and she gives up on those for the moment. Far easier to try to move her hands despite the ache she feels, searching for something solid, something living and familiar. ]
Onii- [ It's a broken off endearment, because she talking is painful. When she blinks, he's there, and behind him - ] Rei?
no subject
Words are so damned small. His breath catches in his throat, cutting off any would be useless placating (because no, none of this is okay). It's a large thing to ask, to put that analytical mind to use above his concern--despite however much he'll claim he does so already--but it is a necessity, and by proxy, is left to him. A pillar of "strength" who can barely manage a few steps forward before his own knees give out.
(This responsibility is far bigger than he's ever been. He's scared shitless.)
It feels like a lifetime, between Rin's cry and when he's on the ground next to him, a support for the limb no longer there, reaching out for Gou where he can't. She's breathing and awake, and it's something. It's something, and so much more than he'd expected in that horrible first moment.]
Gou-san, what-- [Happened? No, they all know what happened] --hurts? [Also obvious when the answer is, for all he knows, "everything," but it's closer to a solution. Focused enough that he can direct his own.]