[ in the unsettled ruins of Yamadenki's passage, ancient plaster dust coats what parts of choso aren't already buried under the debris. he lies mostly on his back, sprawled out where gravity dropped him with limbs akimbo. the offending beam sits stuck out of the ground only inches from where choso's head lies hemorrhaging into the dirt.
the irony, ha, the irony of it is that the power wasn't the issue. he wouldn't bleed out, necessarily, but stopping his own bleeding needed focus, needed some semblance of control that evaded choso's grasp in searing black and white; the black was in him, a darkness threaded through his body in every vein and artery, every capillary, like the lights of a vast network shut off all at once. the white was in his head, a pure and ringing agony like a high note struck on a tuning fork and for all the power available to him in his own blood, in Raidou's precious pact, choso can't touch a scrap of it, can't fathom even how to in the incandescent agony that lives curled around the shocked meat in his skull like a tiny yamadenki snuck in to fuck him up specifically.
somewhere outside of the lead weight of this unyielding pain, he hears someone say his name. ]
Here!
[ is what he tries to say, but what really comes out is a gurgle, thick with blood, a breathless and airless thing that can barely be called a moan on a good day.
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the irony, ha, the irony of it is that the power wasn't the issue. he wouldn't bleed out, necessarily, but stopping his own bleeding needed focus, needed some semblance of control that evaded choso's grasp in searing black and white; the black was in him, a darkness threaded through his body in every vein and artery, every capillary, like the lights of a vast network shut off all at once. the white was in his head, a pure and ringing agony like a high note struck on a tuning fork and for all the power available to him in his own blood, in Raidou's precious pact, choso can't touch a scrap of it, can't fathom even how to in the incandescent agony that lives curled around the shocked meat in his skull like a tiny yamadenki snuck in to fuck him up specifically.
somewhere outside of the lead weight of this unyielding pain, he hears someone say his name. ]
Here!
[ is what he tries to say, but what really comes out is a gurgle, thick with blood, a breathless and airless thing that can barely be called a moan on a good day.
this is way too much blood for one dude. ]