( phase i. ) [ really, none of them can catch a break, can they? not only is haru sick, but then that had happened.. at home at the time, the sudden rush of negative energy, the dread, the evil in it had hit him especially hard. saniwa have a god's gift, a gift for creation and life; their powers are holy. something like this? something that tastes this strongly of death and anger and despair?
in the first few moments, it takes everything in him to just keep from passing out under the onslaught. in the next, he's staggering to the bathroom to dry-heave over the toilet.
eventually, of course, he manages to get himself--and his nausea--under control, and manages to shuffle his way back into the living room, where he settles heavily on the couch. what had that been..? what's going on out there? there's nothing on the network yet, of course, but.. there is a way to check without going himself, isn't there? finding one of the manikins he'd patiently folded earlier today, he lifts it between his index finger and thumb, murmuring the spell to bring it to 'life' as a shikigami-- and yelps hoarsely as it suddenly bursts into flame. he drops it hastily, scrambling back on the couch, for a moment stunned.. until he realizes there's a tiny fire now burning merrily away atop the coffee-table.
before he quite realizes what he's doing, he's grabbed a pillow of the couch, whacking the fire out, overturning a teacup onto the floor, and sending the other manikins flying through the air in the process. ugh, just.. what the heck..? ]
( phase ii. ) [ in the end, he didn't really have a choice. he'd had to leave the apartment-- illness or no illness, abilities on the fritz or not, he has them, and he needs.. to try to help do something about where all the ghosts are coming from. it would be wrong to stay home and hide at home when he has something he can offer, no matter how small. other people are doing their best, after all. his swords are doing their best-- shouldn't he?
he'd thought he was being careful. he has plenty of seals, plenty of shikigami.. he's small and easily overlooked. he'd been avoiding them for the most part, dispelling the ones he couldn't avoid..
until that voice.
he whirls, hands already moving, only to freeze, eyes going wide and a little terrified in his face. the woman standing there can't be forty years old yet, but she's dressed like she never left her teenage years. her makeup is perhaps more suited to a street corner somewhere, and she looks thin-- too thin by far. (her eyes, though, are haru's match.) ]
M-Mom. [ he barely manages to choke it out, voice small and meek and trembling. why.. why is she looking at him like that? she never looks at him, she never noticed him except to say.. things. ugly things.
a part of him knows this can't possibly be real, but.. it feels real. and when she says that, that she needs haru, with that look in her eyes.. ] Y-Yes. Of course, I-- [ he needs to go with her. he needs to fix this. he needs to help her. he should've been helping her all along, he knows that. he's never been strong enough, never good enough, but.. he can do this. he will do this.
he's moving before the thought even occurs to him, shuffling along after her, dizzy and swaying faintly with the strange focus and his illness. ]
( wildcard. ) [ wanna do something else? hit me with a prompt. ]
ota!!!
[ really, none of them can catch a break, can they? not only is haru sick, but then that had happened.. at home at the time, the sudden rush of negative energy, the dread, the evil in it had hit him especially hard. saniwa have a god's gift, a gift for creation and life; their powers are holy. something like this? something that tastes this strongly of death and anger and despair?
in the first few moments, it takes everything in him to just keep from passing out under the onslaught. in the next, he's staggering to the bathroom to dry-heave over the toilet.
eventually, of course, he manages to get himself--and his nausea--under control, and manages to shuffle his way back into the living room, where he settles heavily on the couch. what had that been..? what's going on out there? there's nothing on the network yet, of course, but.. there is a way to check without going himself, isn't there? finding one of the manikins he'd patiently folded earlier today, he lifts it between his index finger and thumb, murmuring the spell to bring it to 'life' as a shikigami-- and yelps hoarsely as it suddenly bursts into flame. he drops it hastily, scrambling back on the couch, for a moment stunned.. until he realizes there's a tiny fire now burning merrily away atop the coffee-table.
before he quite realizes what he's doing, he's grabbed a pillow of the couch, whacking the fire out, overturning a teacup onto the floor, and sending the other manikins flying through the air in the process. ugh, just.. what the heck..? ]
( phase ii. )
[ in the end, he didn't really have a choice. he'd had to leave the apartment-- illness or no illness, abilities on the fritz or not, he has them, and he needs.. to try to help do something about where all the ghosts are coming from. it would be wrong to stay home and hide at home when he has something he can offer, no matter how small. other people are doing their best, after all. his swords are doing their best-- shouldn't he?
he'd thought he was being careful. he has plenty of seals, plenty of shikigami.. he's small and easily overlooked. he'd been avoiding them for the most part, dispelling the ones he couldn't avoid..
until that voice.
he whirls, hands already moving, only to freeze, eyes going wide and a little terrified in his face. the woman standing there can't be forty years old yet, but she's dressed like she never left her teenage years. her makeup is perhaps more suited to a street corner somewhere, and she looks thin-- too thin by far. (her eyes, though, are haru's match.) ]
M-Mom. [ he barely manages to choke it out, voice small and meek and trembling. why.. why is she looking at him like that? she never looks at him, she never noticed him except to say.. things. ugly things.
a part of him knows this can't possibly be real, but.. it feels real. and when she says that, that she needs haru, with that look in her eyes.. ] Y-Yes. Of course, I-- [ he needs to go with her. he needs to fix this. he needs to help her. he should've been helping her all along, he knows that. he's never been strong enough, never good enough, but.. he can do this. he will do this.
he's moving before the thought even occurs to him, shuffling along after her, dizzy and swaying faintly with the strange focus and his illness. ]
( wildcard. )
[ wanna do something else? hit me with a prompt. ]