𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚡 𝙼𝚘𝚍𝚜 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
synfluxmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
synflux2025-10-13 05:41 pm
synfluxmods) wrote in synflux2025-10-13 05:41 pm
Entry tags:
KAIJU FIGHT #11
KAIJU FIGHT #11
▶ 001. THIS WAS A FAIRYTALE.
The Outsiders come to Gwen with their proposal, and it appears simple. A group of LILITH operatives go ahead and scout around the Enchanted Forest to attempt to discover more about the kaiju, especially since they seem to be limited on information. While Gwen seems particularly agitated by being forced to wait, she allows the Outsiders their time to go and find as much information as they’re able to divine.
For Outsiders that go, a trail leads them through winding trees and the undergrowth, well-walked pathways that break into various clearings. There are signs of campfires, of civilization, and of people staying here in the wilderness - these may be the rebels that Gwen had spent so long lamenting over. Anyone skilled at tracking or survival might follow the trail, finding a deep cave in the midst of the forest.
Exploring the cave will reveal a community that had been existing practically under their noses. There are tents, clothes littering the ground, fires, even what seems like storage boxes and children’s treasures: various wooden and hand carved animals, including large lions. What is most noticeable is the lack of people; there are some that are around, haunting the cave and peering out at the scouting team as they approach, but they are not armed and do not seem to want to attack any of the party.
They are, at least, willing to answer questions, and they share the following information: they had seen the Outsiders in the castle outskirts and flying overhead, had seen them venturing outside of Windsor, and had come to the conclusion their time was running short. The kaiju left, with what rebels remained, and decided to bring the confrontation to Gwen, for fear of losing more of their own people to the strange affliction that has been harming them for decades.
Yes, they confirm when asked: they have been victim to it as well, and suffering from it too long can lead to transformations that are difficult to undo. The only saving grace has been their leader, Eadmund, who has the power to counterattack what has happened - but he has gone to fight, too.
The scouting party may wish to rush back to Windsor Castle before it is too late.
For Outsiders that go, a trail leads them through winding trees and the undergrowth, well-walked pathways that break into various clearings. There are signs of campfires, of civilization, and of people staying here in the wilderness - these may be the rebels that Gwen had spent so long lamenting over. Anyone skilled at tracking or survival might follow the trail, finding a deep cave in the midst of the forest.
Exploring the cave will reveal a community that had been existing practically under their noses. There are tents, clothes littering the ground, fires, even what seems like storage boxes and children’s treasures: various wooden and hand carved animals, including large lions. What is most noticeable is the lack of people; there are some that are around, haunting the cave and peering out at the scouting team as they approach, but they are not armed and do not seem to want to attack any of the party.
They are, at least, willing to answer questions, and they share the following information: they had seen the Outsiders in the castle outskirts and flying overhead, had seen them venturing outside of Windsor, and had come to the conclusion their time was running short. The kaiju left, with what rebels remained, and decided to bring the confrontation to Gwen, for fear of losing more of their own people to the strange affliction that has been harming them for decades.
Yes, they confirm when asked: they have been victim to it as well, and suffering from it too long can lead to transformations that are difficult to undo. The only saving grace has been their leader, Eadmund, who has the power to counterattack what has happened - but he has gone to fight, too.
The scouting party may wish to rush back to Windsor Castle before it is too late.
▶ 002. GOD SAVE THE QUEEN.
Back in Windsor, with some of the Outsiders left behind, things are beginning to get more tense. Gwen and her soldiers are gearing up, preparing their weapons and whispering tactics to one another. Clearly, many of them are not impressed with this particular plan. It is difficult to speak to anyone, or to get them to talk to an Outsider, but the few whispers here and there show that they dislike the Outsider's plan, are frustrated with Gwen for allowing it, and want the fight to start as soon as possible; they've even taken swords from the Garrison.
Everything remains tense as they wait for the scouts to return. This is an ample opportunity for the Outsiders to make their own preparations as they wait for their friends to come back, and even to try and delay and distract Gwen's soldiers from their own. Soon, the scouts return. There’s a brief span when they can report their findings to their fellow operatives, but within a few hours the atmosphere shifts, Gwen marching to the gates. Outside the castle walls, an echoing roar shakes the foundations.
Due to the Outsiders deciding to scout and not aid in Gwen's preparations or advising on how to fight the kaiju, the soldiers inside the castle are more on edge and afraid. They are less prepared, their weapons not designed to target the kaiju's weakness, and Gwen seems more desperate. Their outlook is gloomy at best and murderous at worst.
At first, the rebels outside the castle walls do not look remotely intimidating. They're small, but there's an otherworldly aura to them, a light in their eyes that makes them seem stronger, bigger than they would otherwise. Behind them, head tilted back into a roar, is the kaiju, a blue, pastel shard stuck in his back.
Gwen's voice calls out across the battlefield: "You will find no glory here!" Her inability to be more prepared makes her voice shake: she and her men do not know how to use the Outsiders to their advantage, and it shows.
The lion speaks, his voice a low, soft rumble; it may even sound familiar to some Outsiders. It fills the silence, seeming to slip into the ears of anyone listening: "I do not come here to harm you, Gwenllian. I have come to save them." Around him, the 'rebels' cheer, raising their blades in the air.
Gwen's face twists, and she turns to her own people, whispering a few, sharp words. There begins a change in her followers: their eyes are taking on an odd sheen, and their bodies have begun to twitch, and jerk, and... Transform?
Gwen's soldiers begin to grow additional limbs, fur, scales, fangs, claws - a horrifying mixture of human and animal, or, worse, human and kaiju. Her closest generals transform first: one woman becomes a twisted bird creature, another a monstrous badger, and a third a feral, loyal hound. They leap into battle, racing towards the rebels: the Outsiders have a choice.
They are welcome to run into the battle and stop these strange, broken monsters from attacking rebel humans.
Everything remains tense as they wait for the scouts to return. This is an ample opportunity for the Outsiders to make their own preparations as they wait for their friends to come back, and even to try and delay and distract Gwen's soldiers from their own. Soon, the scouts return. There’s a brief span when they can report their findings to their fellow operatives, but within a few hours the atmosphere shifts, Gwen marching to the gates. Outside the castle walls, an echoing roar shakes the foundations.
Due to the Outsiders deciding to scout and not aid in Gwen's preparations or advising on how to fight the kaiju, the soldiers inside the castle are more on edge and afraid. They are less prepared, their weapons not designed to target the kaiju's weakness, and Gwen seems more desperate. Their outlook is gloomy at best and murderous at worst.
At first, the rebels outside the castle walls do not look remotely intimidating. They're small, but there's an otherworldly aura to them, a light in their eyes that makes them seem stronger, bigger than they would otherwise. Behind them, head tilted back into a roar, is the kaiju, a blue, pastel shard stuck in his back.
Gwen's voice calls out across the battlefield: "You will find no glory here!" Her inability to be more prepared makes her voice shake: she and her men do not know how to use the Outsiders to their advantage, and it shows.
The lion speaks, his voice a low, soft rumble; it may even sound familiar to some Outsiders. It fills the silence, seeming to slip into the ears of anyone listening: "I do not come here to harm you, Gwenllian. I have come to save them." Around him, the 'rebels' cheer, raising their blades in the air.
Gwen's face twists, and she turns to her own people, whispering a few, sharp words. There begins a change in her followers: their eyes are taking on an odd sheen, and their bodies have begun to twitch, and jerk, and... Transform?
Gwen's soldiers begin to grow additional limbs, fur, scales, fangs, claws - a horrifying mixture of human and animal, or, worse, human and kaiju. Her closest generals transform first: one woman becomes a twisted bird creature, another a monstrous badger, and a third a feral, loyal hound. They leap into battle, racing towards the rebels: the Outsiders have a choice.
They are welcome to run into the battle and stop these strange, broken monsters from attacking rebel humans.
▶ 003. A ROAR-SOME BATTLE.
No matter what the Outsiders choose, Gwenllian leaps into the fray. What is immediately clear is the rebels are not attacking to kill. They also seem strangely resistant to the creatures that Gwen has made with her powers. It does not seem to have stolen their senses in the way that other kaiju have done in the past; it feels more like a warm embrace, the sensation of home and warmth.
Gwen's power surges, grows, and seems to flow over the battlefield, as a siren song. Outsiders may be influenced by the flood of her power, and might find their bodies beginning to shift: they may grow wings, claws, teeth, fur, scales or various other monster parts. They may even find their transformation becoming more complete, almost entirely monstrous, mirroring the fate of the generals... Or they may be able to ignore the call. Outsiders who had fallen prey to the memory manipulation are more easily prone to the changes, but can still resist the transformation.
The fight continues, with rebels attempting to knock out or disarm anyone coming their way. They seem almost gentler with the Outsiders, even the monstrous ones, and can be heard making promises to them: "We will protect you", "you will be safe, just let us help", and "Eadmund will free you all".
Throughout the fight, various Outsiders speak with Eadmund and damage him, and it seems as though the emotional impact is greater than the physical one. He keeps pushing through the fray, attempting to get closer to his bounty, when Muramasa strikes out at him with fire, knocking him to his back. Two hands work together to draw the relic from his back, pulling it free - baring it to the world. It is not a sword, but a large horn, embedded within his spine for decades.
As soon as the relic is drawn, Gwen howls. It is a horrifying sound, and her human shape unfolds itself, a bright light swelling, growing larger and larger, before her true form is revealed to all: a unicorn, bereft of her horn, bleeding from the wound on her head. The lion stands taller now, power echoing around him; the rebels sudden appear braver as his own power rockets through them. He goes for Gwen's neck, large jaw sinking into her as a thought runs through the minds of anyone nearby: "I will save you from yourself, my dearest friend."
Gwen's power surges, grows, and seems to flow over the battlefield, as a siren song. Outsiders may be influenced by the flood of her power, and might find their bodies beginning to shift: they may grow wings, claws, teeth, fur, scales or various other monster parts. They may even find their transformation becoming more complete, almost entirely monstrous, mirroring the fate of the generals... Or they may be able to ignore the call. Outsiders who had fallen prey to the memory manipulation are more easily prone to the changes, but can still resist the transformation.
The fight continues, with rebels attempting to knock out or disarm anyone coming their way. They seem almost gentler with the Outsiders, even the monstrous ones, and can be heard making promises to them: "We will protect you", "you will be safe, just let us help", and "Eadmund will free you all".
Throughout the fight, various Outsiders speak with Eadmund and damage him, and it seems as though the emotional impact is greater than the physical one. He keeps pushing through the fray, attempting to get closer to his bounty, when Muramasa strikes out at him with fire, knocking him to his back. Two hands work together to draw the relic from his back, pulling it free - baring it to the world. It is not a sword, but a large horn, embedded within his spine for decades.
As soon as the relic is drawn, Gwen howls. It is a horrifying sound, and her human shape unfolds itself, a bright light swelling, growing larger and larger, before her true form is revealed to all: a unicorn, bereft of her horn, bleeding from the wound on her head. The lion stands taller now, power echoing around him; the rebels sudden appear braver as his own power rockets through them. He goes for Gwen's neck, large jaw sinking into her as a thought runs through the minds of anyone nearby: "I will save you from yourself, my dearest friend."
▶ 004. ANOTHER SLEEPLESS KNIGHT.
Gwen fights Eadmund, and Outsiders will find their own fights ebbing and flowing. As Gwen gets the upper hand, her men grow stronger, turning on not just the rebels but the Outsiders, too. They are particularly violent with any Outsider who did not suffer the strange memory effects; it seems these grow stronger and weaker with Gwen, too.
The removal of the relic from Eadmund's back seems to have made him stronger, even with the emotional and physical damage the attacks from the Outsiders have left him with. Eventually, he seems to overcome the unicorn, smothered in her blood and drowning in her wails of anguish. There's a bright flash of light, and the two of them, Gwen and Eadmund both, seem to... Disappear?
The problem of the horrific monsters still remain, however, despite the disappearance of Gwen and Eadmund, and Outsiders are tasked by the rebels with rounding them up and trapping them in the prisons below Windsor castle. They ask that the Outsiders not kill the beasts, because they are certain of a cure, but accidents can happen, right?
Ripples of rumour spread throughout the castle about the fate of Gwenllian and Eadmund, but the focus is on the recovery efforts. There are various things that Outsiders can do to help: recover the wounded, capture the remaining monsters, repair some of the damaged walls, make meals, and guide the families of the rebels back to the castle from their caves. There's no shortage of aid required.
Finally, a large campfire is built, and there is a mixture of emotions in the people of Windsor, civilians and rebels both. There is joy at their endless fight finally being over, whilst great mourning for the loss of two heroes - Gwenllian the Unicorn, who had defended Windsor for decades, and Eadmund the Lion, who had fought to free her from whatever poisoned her mind. Speaking to civilians gives various viewpoints: some think Gwen was evil, others misguided, while some imagine Eadmund to be some kind of nightmarish fairytale that is told to children to get them to behave.
No matter the view, there is relief: for now, there is a reprieve.
The removal of the relic from Eadmund's back seems to have made him stronger, even with the emotional and physical damage the attacks from the Outsiders have left him with. Eventually, he seems to overcome the unicorn, smothered in her blood and drowning in her wails of anguish. There's a bright flash of light, and the two of them, Gwen and Eadmund both, seem to... Disappear?
The problem of the horrific monsters still remain, however, despite the disappearance of Gwen and Eadmund, and Outsiders are tasked by the rebels with rounding them up and trapping them in the prisons below Windsor castle. They ask that the Outsiders not kill the beasts, because they are certain of a cure, but accidents can happen, right?
Ripples of rumour spread throughout the castle about the fate of Gwenllian and Eadmund, but the focus is on the recovery efforts. There are various things that Outsiders can do to help: recover the wounded, capture the remaining monsters, repair some of the damaged walls, make meals, and guide the families of the rebels back to the castle from their caves. There's no shortage of aid required.
Finally, a large campfire is built, and there is a mixture of emotions in the people of Windsor, civilians and rebels both. There is joy at their endless fight finally being over, whilst great mourning for the loss of two heroes - Gwenllian the Unicorn, who had defended Windsor for decades, and Eadmund the Lion, who had fought to free her from whatever poisoned her mind. Speaking to civilians gives various viewpoints: some think Gwen was evil, others misguided, while some imagine Eadmund to be some kind of nightmarish fairytale that is told to children to get them to behave.
No matter the view, there is relief: for now, there is a reprieve.
▶ 005. THE LAST UNICORN.
The next morning, Outsiders are awoken by the arrival of a familiar face: Alex, assistant to Dr Spim. Something had been interfering with LILITH's communication since their arrival in Windsor, but with it now somehow dealt with she has been able to bring something: a cure for the monster transformations and the memory effects.
Typically, severe cases of Rift corruption are considered incurable. However, after a certain event earlier in the year, they were able to study a group of corrupted Outsiders that made an unprecedented full recovery. Additionally, thanks to a certain Outsider volunteering for additional testing and experiments, LILITH has been able to use her blood to create an antidote for significant Rift effects! They believe it can also be used to help increase resistance against more kaiju-related powers. Experiments and studies have been promising and now seems as good a time as ever for human testing!
Something else remarkable happens around mid-day. The door to Gwen's room opens, and there's a stampede of people running, whispering she's alive, he's alive, how is this possible, what is happening. Outsiders who walk up to follow the gossip chain will find a unicorn foal, horn intact, curled up with an adolescent lion, their faces pressed together as they rest and recover from a centuries long conflict.
It's not until dusk that the lion wakes up, and Eadmund sits by the great bonfire, greeting old friends and new. As he walks through the castle, something strange happens. Many of the various animals around the castle begin to twist and transform - horses, corgi, badgers, foxes, even the birds, reshaping into a human form. Some seem caught in-between, left with odd wings, dog ears or tails, and others don't turn back at all but seem to be given a human voice once more. Eadmund is apologetic: his strength isn't quite what it used to be, yet, and Gwenllian is too tired to help.
Tired, he asks the Outsiders this: please forgive her, and give her time. She has done such cruel things, but her heart was taken, and she had nothing left.
All that is left is for the Outsiders to gather themselves, ensure their friends are safe, cured and healthy, and begin to prepare for the journey home. It seems that there might be a happy ending to this story.
Typically, severe cases of Rift corruption are considered incurable. However, after a certain event earlier in the year, they were able to study a group of corrupted Outsiders that made an unprecedented full recovery. Additionally, thanks to a certain Outsider volunteering for additional testing and experiments, LILITH has been able to use her blood to create an antidote for significant Rift effects! They believe it can also be used to help increase resistance against more kaiju-related powers. Experiments and studies have been promising and now seems as good a time as ever for human testing!
Something else remarkable happens around mid-day. The door to Gwen's room opens, and there's a stampede of people running, whispering she's alive, he's alive, how is this possible, what is happening. Outsiders who walk up to follow the gossip chain will find a unicorn foal, horn intact, curled up with an adolescent lion, their faces pressed together as they rest and recover from a centuries long conflict.
It's not until dusk that the lion wakes up, and Eadmund sits by the great bonfire, greeting old friends and new. As he walks through the castle, something strange happens. Many of the various animals around the castle begin to twist and transform - horses, corgi, badgers, foxes, even the birds, reshaping into a human form. Some seem caught in-between, left with odd wings, dog ears or tails, and others don't turn back at all but seem to be given a human voice once more. Eadmund is apologetic: his strength isn't quite what it used to be, yet, and Gwenllian is too tired to help.
THE TALE OF THE LAST UNICORN.
In the past, a herd of unicorns roamed the forests, travelling around England and bringing the spring with them as they moved. In tune with the world, they encouraged the growth of plants, flowers and vegetation, keeping the country filled with greenery even as technology grew and became more prominent. Alongside them walked a great beast, Eadmund, protective and gentle despite his stature and his roar, who gave strength to those who would rise up and defend the world against its ills, a lion protecting his pride with all that he had.
Then the climate changed. Then the world shifted. Nature suffered, and with it so did the unicorns.
In Britain, the requirement for energy and power led to a second Industrial Revolution overtaking the nation, creating new factories and relying more on age-old technologies to ensure the country survived. The side effects were not immediate, but catastrophic when they came: the reliance on coal, oil, steam and a covert use of rift energy to power machinery led to the landscape twisting into something desolate. Earthquakes became more common, and lush farmland became closer to swamp and quagmires.
Thus, the unicorns returned. They offered aid, tried to help repair the damage done to nature, and offered their powers to soothe the hurts of the humans they loved so dearly. Alongside them was their dearest friend, their lion protector, who imbued the humans with strength and courage to fight against the threat of new beasts, new kaiju who walked the land as if it was theirs to claim. Together, they were formidable: warrior and healer, a pair difficult to defeat.
Humans are greedy, however, and often not content with the gifts they are given. A few saw the damage the rifts had done to their homes, to their friends, and remembered old stories of the power of a unicorn: their horn, their mane, their blood can heal, can soothe, can protect. Slowly, enough that it was hard to note at first, they began to trim the herd, hunting the smallest and the weakest, the youngest, until there were too few unicorns left to bring any hope to the world.
Soon, there remained none but one unicorn: Gwenllian, still young, fierce in her rage and her disgust at humanity.
They are evil, she argued, her hurt and anger overtaking her. There is no difference between them and the beasts.
They do not understand, Eadmund responded, bowing low to comfort her, maw against her neck. Let us help them to know. We can show them something better, help them to understand. We can show them their courage once more, the two of us together. Their intentions were not evil, but the results were. He remained hopeful in his grief, shouldering the weight of being last of their kind. In the depth of his heart, he loved her, and wanted to see joy return to her eyes.
I will show them understanding. Harsh, and cruel. Gwenllian, in her grief, did not wish for anything better. She had seen the horns and hair of her kin ground and used, she had witnessed their blood being harvested, and she was unable to reconcile her anger with her knowledge that it was not all the humans: desperation makes monsters, after all, and that is what she became.
When she rose up to fight the humans, they responded swiftly, and with a strength she did not expect. The source she knew too well, for how often had her dear friend given her strength and courage with his power, lifted her heart with his boasts of victory? To see it used against her broke her, and so she turned on Eadmund, and their fight was as violent as her hurt and her rage: the aftermath as deadly as what was wrought upon the earth.
She did not know that Eadmund was as much a victim as she, his power abused and manipulated, the humans taking what they could from him and using it to harm the only creature he had ever loved.
They fought, friend against friend. Gwenllian lost her horn, embedded in her dear friend’s spine. Eadmund lost his future, cursed to live an endless fight, reviving each time his life was taken. Until Gwenllian’s vengeance was complete, there was no hope in his future.
As the years passed, people began to forget the origins of the disaster, what had happened to the unicorns, and the strength of their protector, a great lion that lingered only in dreams, doing what he could to save those that remained. In turn, humanity turned their faith to Gwenllian, titling herself with the moniker of “Gwen”, a hero of their time with one mission: to rid the world of the kaiju causing such danger and damage.
The more faith they had in her, the worse the world around her became. Those of the highest faith found themselves changing, twisting their limbs into something more monstrous, grief and anger fuelling her: humans have monstrous hearts, so their bodies should match it. Around the castle she called home, the human-kaiju roamed, feeding her power and her madness, a reminder of her true purpose.
Their battle continued for centuries, until news of the successes of LILITH reached Gwenllian, and she hatched a new plan: use the humans to take her final vengeance and spread her transformations to the rest of the world. The only thing standing between her and victory was the remains of her heart: Eadmund who, in all the years of fighting, had not given up on her, and whose power she, too, manipulated to control the guests to her land, to twist their memories and make them easier to shape.
Now he offers the Outsiders this tale, and begs them to help. Help save the friend he still loves with all his heart, and in turn help to save all those who have fallen victim to her strength, her power, her manipulations. Together, they can return hope to their realm, and bring a brighter future to those who remain.
Tired, he asks the Outsiders this: please forgive her, and give her time. She has done such cruel things, but her heart was taken, and she had nothing left.
All that is left is for the Outsiders to gather themselves, ensure their friends are safe, cured and healthy, and begin to prepare for the journey home. It seems that there might be a happy ending to this story.
▶ AFTERWORD.
This is Kaiju Log #11
All comments in this event count for 2 points towards October AC. If you have any further questions, feel free to ask them below.
We would also like to thank players for all their hard work OOCly to allow this plot to unfold!
All comments in this event count for 2 points towards October AC. If you have any further questions, feel free to ask them below.
We would also like to thank players for all their hard work OOCly to allow this plot to unfold!
EVENT BREAKDOWN/RECAP (CLICK TO EXPAND)
1.THIS WAS A FAIRYTALE: Outsiders scout ahead and try to find the rebels. They discover a cave with womena nd children inside: the rebels have already left.
2. GOD SAVE THE QUEEN: The kaiju arrives at the battlefield, and Gwen meets him. Her generals turn into monsters, and the fighting begins.
3. A ROAR-SOME BATTLE: Gwen and Eadmund fight, while around them civillians and Outsiders transform into monsters. The relic is torn from Eadmund's back, and Gwen is revealed as a unicorn.
4. ANOTHER SLEEPLESS KNIGHT: The battle comes to an end and Outsiders are given various tasks around the battlefield and castle.
4. THE LAST UNICORN: Eadmund and Gwen are reborn as young versions of themselves. Eadmund explains the story of their relationship. LILITH delivers a cure the Outsiders, using a new experimental option thanks to a certain Outsider working with them.
yuta okkotsu | jujutsu kaisen | revelation
❚ feel free to come request one via![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
gusts / the discord or just hit me with a wildcard!
— MURAMASA, relic pull aftermath (cw: burns)
It's what presses on Yuta's awareness more and more as the adrenaline of the initial panicked moment fades and he and Tasuke are left sitting on the battlefield, holding on to the relic like a lifeline where it rests in their laps. Or rather, where he's half-clutching the relic—a horn it turns out—as Yuta has let go of it with one hand to throw it protectively around Tasuke's shoulders instead the second the lion kaiju rose to its feet again. (For what little good that could do.) The roar it let out has left him dazed, somehow feeling both lighter and heavier all at once, but now the pain is starting to filter through the confusion, clearing the fog like the sun's warm rays. The burn in his hands feels familiar somehow. (He caught an energy beam with his bare hand and had it reduced to cinders once, his brain tells him, but that's absurd.)
All around them the battle still rages. Gwen has transformed, the lion has gone for her throat, there are still so many transformed beasts all around them. Yuta thinks he can hear Rika still fighting one of them in the background, her battle cries a reassurance that she's doing all right and another anchor point outside of the fiery agony for his mind to latch on to and ground him. His hands are burnt. But so are Tasuke's. They need tending to.
It's that thought more than anything else that spurs him into finally relinquishing the relic entirely and to ease his fervent grip on Tasuke's shoulder a little. ]
We- We need to move. Your hands—
[ He needs to see to them despite the damage to his own. Somehow. Tasuke's burns are no doubt worse. ]
1/2. cw: descriptions of gore.
He had been sure it was supposed to be a sword, just like the one in that old moth-eaten tapestry he'd found while exploring the older corners of the castle. A lion fleeing a garden where a unicorn rests safely, bleeding from a sword embedded in his back. It’s the only thing that makes sense. The reports of the "rebels" being nothing more than apparent refugees are the only explanation. If a unicorn is one half of the symbols of the protectors of this place, and the lion isn't causing rampant wanton destruction for no reason like any other kaiju, then something has to be making it bad, right?
Like a sword in his back. It has to be a sword.
When Tasuke finally found his opening as the giant lion fell from his strike, he had darted in as fast as he could, the nanobots in his body running hot, electrifying his nerves and muscles, giving him speed and strength when he normally has none. It was right there. The fire licked at his hands, his legs, his arms, but he could handle that. He’d had the dreams, he simply needed to take the sword in hand and— do what? Finish the job? Cut something down? He had meant to figure that out after, once he’d been successful, but… But his strength, even augmented, wasn’t enough. He felt exhaustion burning in his lungs, in his limbs, in his hands. His head ached, his grip had slipped, he had not been able to get a proper grasp on the sword's strange twisting hilt. Not until Yuta had reached in to help, even with the fire burning hot around them. Together they’d pulled and pulled, ignoring the pain and relying wholly on the other's constant presence for strength, a fresh memory of a kiss on his mouth in the quiet moment before the battle had started.
Toether, they had managed to loosen the sword just enough that a second heave slipped it out of the lion’s back. A sickening grind of bone on bone, a wet, bloody suckering sound as the sealed vacuum of an old wound ripped itself open once again, and they’d heaved it free with all the force in their desperate hearts.
But the thing sitting on his lap is not a sword. ]
2/3 cw: graphic description of burns
When he looks down at the hand on his shoulder, it is with a distant stillness, eyes following each burnt finger and movement with a seemingly blank stare. Burnt flakes of plugsuit slough off at the slightest movement, same as his own, revealing the raw skin underneath without the activated pressure to help keep the gear hold its shape. Yuta's hands. He'd come to help, and paid the price for it, because some asshole couldn't keep a tight enough grip on who he was.
Muramasa allows himself one short moment of frustration, his own plugsuit crumbling on his hands as he releases his grip on the horn (not a sword) sitting in his lap. Taking a deep breath as he shoves the piercing, searing pain aside, he lifts his hands to push his own raw and burnt knuckles against his eye sockets. He's so fucking stupid. Even the other ones don't push aside Muramasa like this. He pushes his knuckles deeper against his face, the feeling in his hands dull under the echoes of the fire that was not his that still rips along his nerves, and tries to think. To sort through the things he was only distantly aware of, as if it were a dream. The exposed flesh under the ruined plugsuit is sticky against his eyelids, the thin layer of skin and sinew over bones stripped away by the heat. The kind of injury he would just will away with a new materialization, if he could still do that without sacrificing what he traded it away for — ]
no subject
Sitting up straight, Muramasa drags a breath in with bellows force, tearing his hands away from his face and scattering more shreds of burnt plugsuit with the action. They know who they are now, so it's time to get to work. He'll worry about his low mana reserves later, once this is over, after they've fixed it. And now that the dreams are gone, it's a done deal. ]
Yuta — [ Horn all but forgotten in his lap, Muramasa turns to Yuta properly, offering his mangled, burnt hands like a monk with his alms bowl, hoping for succor. ] Here.
[ Utterly trusting, he knows that Yuta will be able to help him with both his hands and some of his mana problems. Muramasa's seen him come back from far worse in a fight. Through the pain, the disuse, his sight is blunted — it's hard to see that Yuta's suffering is still not what it should be.
Maybe he just became accustomed to the sight of a lighter heart. ]
cw: graphic description of burns cont.
No, no, no, don't do that—
[ The words come out a frantic, dismayed hiss, mostly drowned out by the clamoring sounds of the continuing battle. His arm draws away from Tasuke's shoulders so he can reach over and grab hold of both of Tasuke's. Or rather, that's the intention and he would have done so if the sight of his own hands didn't stop Yuta short halfway. The burns are even worse than they feel. In fact, what he isn't feeling is the problem. Beyond the flaking of his burnt suit that's adhered to the wounds, he can see plenty glimpses of wet, shiny and blistery red skin, the parts where his previous movements have made the skin slough off entirely, and the bits that are even darker. Tentatively curling a finger—shock further numbing the pain thus making the movement easier—and pressing the digit to his palm confirms a suspicion when the result is... nothing. No feeling at all. The nerve endings are burned away entirely. Second degree burns going into third degree burns, the medic part of his brain chimes in helpfully.
It really hadn't been the smartest decision to jump in when he did, but he'd seen Tasuke struggling to pull the relic out and his body had just moved out of its own accord in spite of the danger and the flames. His (boy)friend needed help and so he helped; it had seemed like the simplest thing to do at the time. Only now he's gone and rendered himself useless. With his hands like this he knows he won't be able to do the one thing he's supposed to be good at, won't be able to keep his touch light and delicate enough to treat any wound when he can't feel what he's doing and his own skin threatens to come right off with every touch.
And yet...
And yet Tasuke turns to him, calls his name which gets Yuta to snap his attention back to him, and offers him his hands with such trust and confidence that he can fix what's wrong right there and then. ]
I... [ He has the quell the feeling of helpless despair that's swiftly rising and threatening to choke him up. Doing so by leaning in and pressing his lips to Tasuke's forehead in a kiss that's desperate, apologetic, and an attempt at reassurance all at once. It helps him keep a grip on his composure and makes his next words come out even and sure, leaning as hard as he can into his work mode. He can't help like he's meant to, but he can keep it together and get them through this. He has to. ] I'm sorry, Tasuke. I can't do much like this. We have to go.
[ He's shifting, awkwardly trying to work one arm around the relic and the other around Tasuke's waist without actually using his hands to help them get to their feet. ]
no subject
But the moment stretches out and the rejuvinating energy never comes with it. Just lips pressed against his skin, and the faintest echo of bleed off. Yuta calling him that name just confirms it.
Muramasa takes another deep breath and sinks under his own facade of calm, hiding his rising panic behind a blank stare. This isn't a done deal. Yuta still isn't himself, still thinks he's that he's that boy from this world, and he has no idea of any of the tools that make him a great sorcerer at his disposal. And it's Muramasa's own fault. He's the one who wanted to try and solve things by getting the relic. He's the one who put Tasuke in danger, prompting Yuta to come and try and save him. ]
No, wait. [ He pushes the relic aside onto the dirt, and rises with Yuta in his grasp, trying not to jostle his mangled hands (and ignoring the damage to his own with a brutal carelessness) in the process. He hasn't had time to try it before this. They'd left before he'd gotten any chance to attempt to use it in a controlled environment. He is exhausted. He is damaged. But he's not dead. He's only in pain. And like the pain of the surgery that granted him this upgrade that he needs right now, he will simply bear it. Yuta is his responsibility. ]
Give me your—I can fix this.
[ This is what it was for, right? ]
no subject
The calm he's trying so hard to hold on to fractures with the intensity of his worry and the dismayed displeasure that leaves him frowning hard at Tasuke. ]
What, no— [ He's not making any sense—oh, right. The new healing upgrade. Still... ] Stop using your hands! We need to get out of here first.
[ Now is not the time for Tasuke to be trying it like this for the first time when they're still on the battlefield and liable to be attacked at any moment. He's not sure it's going to be enough to help when their injuries are this bad either. From what he knows of how the upgrade works, it's going to take time to do its work. Time they don't have out here. They need to get to safety and they need to get help.
Yuta fervently wishes, far from the first time, that Ieiri was here.
(... Wait, who is Ieiri?) ]
— TEZCATLIPOCA (cw: amputation)
Now that Yuta's had a dose of the cure Dr. Spim brought along with his arrival, he finally understands with perfect clarity what Rika had meant that day. Of course stuck in her half manifested state and cloaked to look like a teenage girl, she wouldn't have been able to consume it as she likely wanted to, so putting it into her internal storage for a later time when she would be able to fully manifest again was a logical choice on her part. Yuta can't fault her for it.
But it's not entirely right either. Not when it concerns the body part of an ally.
So it's very soon after having all his memories fully restored that he makes a beeline for where the injured rest. Now that he remembers he can heal again, he can be of far better use in the medical ward too. ]
Hello, Tezcatlipoca-san.
[ The greeting is said with perfect politeness as usual as Yuta enters, though everything else about his demeanor seems more muted. There are new burn scars all over his hands, but much more notably Rika drifts in his wake, uncloaked and half-manifested, exuding the same awful aura that the teenage girl that previously followed him everywhere did. ]
How are you feeling?
no subject
So, Yuta’s first impression once he comes to their makeshift medbay is sure to be that Tezcatlipoca is taking it remarkably well. Or at least seeming to. Most people would probably be more disturbed about suddenly losing a major limb or at least more under the weather, but he’s lounging on his cot casually like he’s just waiting to be released. His eyes are lit up with the telltale signs of using his ocular implants, but as soon as someone comes to visit, he dismisses it.
He is bored, more than anything.
Though who comes to visit is admittedly a surprise. One, just because he doesn’t expect Yuta in general, but two… Rika definitely makes an impression. ]
Woah. That is some serious bad energy.
[ He definitely hadn’t been conscious enough to clock her bad vibes earlier, but now? It’s hard to miss! Yet, even so, it doesn’t seem like Tezcatlipoca is afraid of her or even terribly bothered by it. He has plenty of questions, sure, but he’s also been here long enough to know that some people just have especially weird shit going on. ]
You’re real casual about it, so I’m guessing she’s your buddy?
no subject
At least this lets him cut to the chase much faster. ]
Yes, sorry. I wanted to introduce her properly. This is Rika-chan. You might remember her more like this...
[ He lifts his hands, right reaching for his left to give the wedding band on his ring finger a light twist. Doing so activates the cloaking device LILITH installed in it and where Rika had been floating at his back in all her inhuman glory, just a large head and pair of hands sticking out of an inky rift, now stands the dour-looking dark-haired teenage girl that has been his shadow throughout his time in Windsor until now.
Yuta decidedly does not look over his shoulder at her, can't bring himself to when the form she takes is that of a girl who never lived past the age of eleven to grow up to look like that. It's not the form the cloaking device is meant to give her, but it has here, aiding the illusion of fake happy memories. (A response to a subconscious grief-fueled wish, maybe.) He only lets it last a small moment before he's twisting the ring again, letting her assume her true form as he continues to explain. ]
She's actually a cursed spirit and an extension of my abilities, but I didn't realize that myself while under the influence of the memory effects. I wanted to apologize on her behalf. She, um— [ ... How to put this delicately? There's really no way so just out with it. ] Took what was left of your leg. Still has it, actually.
[ Although Yuta looks appropriately apologetic about it, nothing about Rika seems remotely repentant. She just did what she thought might be most useful for her boy once he stopped being so weird. ]
no subject
[ The honorific doesn’t pass him by, since obviously he knows the basics of the system after more than a year living in Neo-Tokyo, translator or not. So, it strikes him as ironic at first until Yuta turns on the cloaking device. He makes a small noise of understanding, nods, but. His attention rather quickly drifts from Rika to Yuta, and he sees that rather pointed effort to not look back at her.
He might be making an assumption, but he can venture a basic guess on why she gets the cutesy suffix.
It’s interesting, but it’s nothing he’s inclined to dig into. Not at the moment, at least. He adjusts himself in the cot with a grunt of effort (and a little pain flickering across his face, admittedly), but it passes quickly. He’s just sitting up more so that he can take this conversation more seriously, which is well-warranted once the explanation comes. ]
No shit?
[ He also takes that revelation surprisingly casually… Or maybe it’s not all that surprising with his general demeanor. ]
I mean, I wasn’t usin’ it anymore, that’s for damn sure, but why? Daybit really did a number on it, so figured it just ended up in the trash or something.
no subject
When Tezcatlipoca makes the concentrated effort to sit up, Yuta starts forward slightly like he's about to jump to his aid and help him, a glimpse of concern passing over his face briefly at the hint of pain, but Tezcatlipoca's got it and so he stays put for his explanation.
As much as Tezcatlipoca has not struck him as someone to get upset all that easily, it still comes as a bit of a relief that he's taking the news of his (more or less) stolen leg this well. There's no hesitation on Yuta's part to keep explaining, only a quick breath taken. ]
It has to do with my specific cursed technique as a jujutsu sorcerer. I'm able to copy other people's abilities so long as Rika consumes a part of the person's body I'm copying from. She's like an external storage that holds both techniques and items for me.
[ There's a little more to it than that, further conditions and time limits that he's beholden to, which he does not mind revealing to an ally, but he's putting down the broad strokes so as not to overwhelm. ]
She was stuck cloaked and in a half-manifested state while I was affected by the memory problem so she couldn't help me get in touch with those techniques. I'm guessing she put your leg into storage until she could.
[ In her true form now, he has no qualms glancing over his shoulder at her. ]
F̵O̵R̷ ̸Y̸U̴T̶A̴.̸
[ Her confirmation comes in an uncanny, dissonant voice befitting of her appearance and Yuta flashes her a helpless little smile—sheepish yet fond—before he looks back, expression returning to apologetic but now with a determined edge to it; a steeling of someone about to make an unusual request and is well aware of it. ]
Would it be all right with you if I used it that way?
no subject
Ha! Waste not, want not, huh? That’s some cool shit. I was gonna say, you’re real polite, but nah, you’re real polite. I’d figure most people would be eating up anyone remotely interesting.
[ With his grin, it’d be fair to assume that he’s saying that because he would, though that’s not actually the case. He truly does see how something like that could be abused easily, and it speaks well to Yuta’s character that he would even ask. LILITH does pick surprisingly principled people, though. ]
Hell yeah you can chow down. In fact, I deeply approve. It was an important part of my culture’s rituals to partake in a little cannibalism from time to time, so you’re practically performing a rite by eating a god’s flesh.
[ …He probably wasn’t expecting enthusiasm, huh? ]
Gotta ask, though. Is it random which one you get? Because I got a hell of a lot that I can do, and not all of ‘em are gonna be good for you.
no subject
Thank you, Tezcatlipoca-san.
[ Saying that first and foremost. Real polite indeed. ]
With the way Copy functions, I suppose that would be the best way to assure I retain whatever abilities I copy since restoration of the missing limb means I lose the ability again. The bigger the body part, the stronger the ability, too. [ So Tezcatlipoca isn't wrong. Going around eating anyone powerful would be the most efficient use of his cursed technique. However... ] Personally I think Copy's true strength lies in having two of the same card, as it were. People don't tend to expect it.
[ Which likely speaks volumes about Yuta's mindset and way of operating. This particular technique manifesting in someone who does not see any real meaning in fighting—only does so to protect those he holds dear—and does not care for gaining power for the mere sake of power is probably for the better for the world at large. Teamwork is the name of the game for him whenever Yuta can help it. ]
Unfortunately, what I end up with does tend to be random, yes. I won't know what it is until Rika's consumed the body part, but if it's something detrimental to me, I can always just choose not to use it.
[ Like Karmic Eye that he's left unused since the Underworld, not even caring to wring whatever limited uses he has left out of it since he helped Muramasa restore his arm. ]
no subject
[ The way Yuta just brushes past that “efficient” use that Tezcatlipoca alludes to is telling. There’s a moment where Tezcatlipoca just looks at him, and even though it’s just a neutral stare, it feels uncomfortably tense. It’s like his attention is going past Yuta himself and boring straight into his soul instead. It’s a rare moment where Tezcatlipoca truly gives off the impression that he is, in fact, a god.
It’s interesting to him, because for all of his love of conflict, for all of how his domains bring suffering for people… He’s still a god that wants good things for humanity. He appreciates good people, but most of all when they’re given power and they don’t succumb to it. It speaks to a strength of character that’s rare.
Yet, that tense moment slips away just as easily as it had come. Whatever he was trying to discern seems to be acceptable, since he laughs as he sits back and waves a hand dismissively. ]
Well, that’s assumin’ it’s even something you have a choice in using! You better hope you don’t get my bad luck. Oh, or my ability to see the future, since that’d probably melt your brain, but that’s probably no worry. Can’t do that here, so here’s hoping LILITH just got that one out of the way for ya!
[ He snickers as he lists the rather extreme negatives first… It doesn’t seem like he’s trying to convince Yuta not to do it, so maybe this is his way of providing a word of caution? Who knows with him. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
— MURAMASA, windsor smithy
Accompanying those memories are small realizations of things about him that, looking back, did not make sense to Sugawara Yuta, but start to do so to Okkotsu Yuta. Like why "Tasuke" had been behaving strangely when they first got here, why Tezcatlipoca might have been yelling at him when they came to help him and Daybit, why his supposed best friend is now acting so weirdly withdrawn and distant. Muramasa's presence stops being a comfort at that point.
Still, Yuta says nothing of those realizations or his returning memories, simply remaining close as he grapples with what to do with all the dreadful knowledge seeping in. The cure for the memory problems is there for the taking with Dr. Spim's arrival, but a part of Yuta fears it when he can tell that the memories are far from pleasant so he doesn't go for it right away under the guise of being fine with waiting his turn. Instead they go and return the horn they pulled from Eadmund's back to its rightful owner, later observing what becomes of it as Eadmund and Gwen bury it.
By the time they stand by the newly added grave themselves to pay their respects, bringing flowers and left-over incense found in Muramasa's bag from their trip to Izumo, it feels like a fair bit of his memories have returned. At the very least, he can delineate much better between what is Sugawara's fake life and his real one, many more of the pieces lining up neatly in coherent order. (He even remembered to dismiss Rika and her haunting figure of a girl meant to be dead before setting out, not saying much about her disappearance beyond that she's around because she technically is.)
It's after watching Muramasa go through the motions of respect that Yuta breaks his latest spell of silence and finally reveals his growing awareness with a single question that just slips out from where he's standing back and observing Muramasa's crouched form with a detached gaze, voice soft.
"Why did you pretend, Shishou?"
There's no response at first. Muramasa doesn't move, doesn't show any sign he even heard the question. Yuta knows better. So he waits until his patience gets the measly reward of Muramasa getting to his feet, turning to meet Yuta's blank look with one of his own, and then promptly leaving. Somehow it doesn't surprise Yuta to be left alone among the graves without an answer. Staring after Muramasa's retreating back, it's on a whim that he summons Rika—all of her—and reaches for Karmic Eye as the small feet of her proper cloaked form hit the ground. He feels her small hand slip into his as he closes his eyes briefly, steadying himself. When he opens them again, they are golden and he can perceive and know.
What he finds in Muramasa steals the breath from his lungs and tears away the detached calm he's shrouded himself in. Back in the Underworld, when Yuta had betrayed Muramasa and cut off his arm, Muramasa had been furious yet free of anything other than singular purpose to see his work through — no suffering, no karma. It's what led to Yuta thinking of him as the most divine thing he knows even with the gods that walk among them. But now?
It turns out even the most divine thing suffers. But out of everything that's happened in the span of knowing one another, this is what does it?
"Sensei's right. Love really is the most twisted curse of all."
He's not sure if he's saying it to himself or to Rika. It doesn't really matter. He can see through the saltwater blur now rapidly obscuring his vision that she moves to stand in front of him, letting go of his hand to reach up for him with both arms outstretched. He allows her cloaking to fall away entirely and finds himself enveloped and covered in the sanctity of her loving hands, trusting them to hold the pieces of him together while he breaks and shatters under the weight of old and new grief alike, sobs muffled to the world.
It's after that, when he's cried himself hollow, that he finds his resolve and he goes to get the cure to purge himself of all lingering uncertainty and falsities. He does not see Muramasa again in the room they shared—he finds only the katana he thought lost on the battlefield, newly mended—or even anywhere else inside the castle, but that is to be expected. Yuta knows where to find him anyway. But first, he sees to his own hands now that he remembers he can heal, he goes to ask a god a favor (or permission to eat his leg, more like), and in doing these things he grants himself time to think and further confirm what he already knows to be true. Time in which the upset gets to percolate more too.
When he's done, he goes straight to Windsor's abandoned smithy; a storm in the form of a boy who seems deceptively calm when he arrives and finds his target. ]
Shishou, give me your hands.
[ A quiet yet firm demand in lieu of a greeting. ]
no subject
Muramasa hides there. If someone asks, he is simply waiting for new work from their employers, and to return back to Kyoto, where his own forge (with it's proper anvil, and carefully collected stock of charcoal, and a barrier that will restore his exhausted magical energy) waits for him. But until then, he will wait here, away from Yuta's newly returned — and newly intensified — suffering. He throws himself into whatever work he can manage without the full use of his hands, with empty reserves of mana cleared out in that late night effort to clean Yuta's recovered sword, even if it means dealing with those terrible bone blades once again.
When Yuta finds his way to Muramasa's hideaway, the sight of Masamura Tasuke bent over the small workbench, pliers held awkwardly in one bandaged hand and trying to separate one of those awful bone swords from its handguard is what greets him. The usual standard-issue tracksuit, no haori in sight (why waste the energy manifesting it, when he needs the tiny trickle his body generates each day to keep his hands working as much as he can), that unruly mop of red hair lit up with the fall sunlight that pierces through the smithy's small glass window (freshly cleaned of soot and cobwebs). A week ago, it would have been a soothing sight, maybe.
Now, it's just another reminder.
Muramasa looks up from the workbench and the pearlescent horn blade that he's trying to free from its mountings, and says nothing, simply sets aside his tools and holds his hands out as bid. His fingers curl, claw-like, over his palms, muscles and tendons too badly damaged to give him his full range of mobility from his middle to his smallest fingers. The bandages on the index and thumbs is a dark, rusty brown, old blood drying in the fibers from when Muramasa had forced his circuits to allow him enough mobility to grip pliers, or a hammer, or even just to clean the wreckage from the abandoned smithy in an attempt to repair it. ]
no subject
It's made easier when he's met with continued silent treatment as though he is the one in the wrong in all this; added fuel for his ire. At least Muramasa obeys readily enough and that helps to keep his calm composure from cracking right then and there. He closes the distance, sparing the horn blade on the workbench a troubled glance (Tasuke had hated them, now he understands why) though it does nothing to keep his frown from deepening when his gaze lands on the hands held out for him. Of course Muramasa continued working even with the extensive damage to his hands, of course he made it worse. Yuta's next breath comes out as a slow, measured exhale through his nose, teetering on the edge of a worn sigh. ]
Sorry, there's nothing I can do about it scarring.
[ There's no real inflection to the words as Yuta gives the warning, tone kept as carefully blank as his dead-eyed expression while he lifts his burn-scarred hands to hover them above Muramasa's, incidentally providing an example of what result to expect even with his RCT. His hands notably don't come down to make contact like Yuta normally would even as converted energy comes spilling out to envelop Murama's hands, bringing with it its usual cool, soothing balm. (And, strangely, a faint hint of the scent of copal; lingering traces of a newly gained power that has his cursed energy positively brimming.)
The abstaining of direct contact is done to avoid aggravating the wounds further, not wanting to cause any more hurt or harm. But the second the flesh has knitted back together enough to make touch bearable, Yuta's hands come down swiftly, the heels of their palms pressing together as cold fingers curl and grab hold of Muramasa's wrists. His grip is light yet with a pressure behind it that promises to turn it unyielding should it find resistance. His eyes lift from his work to his master's face, still with an air of impassive, eerie calm. ]
Will you answer my questions now?
[ It's posed as a question, but his hold brooks no argument. He's not about to let Muramasa run away again. All the while, he keeps channeling positive energy even when he can sense it's done all it can to heal the wounds, instead just pouring it into Muramasa to replenish his depleted mana reserves. ]
no subject
In the cemetery, Yuta's karma was patchwork, split between a sorcerer and the boy beloved in a dream. Now, the person healing his damaged body before him is hale in body, whole in mind, and wears the familiar suffering of his first apprentice. Muramasa watches Yuta extend his hands for his technique with the bleak focus of a condemned man watching the executioner sharpen a sword, eyes falling to the edge of that expressionless mouth in a half remembered habit, and still says nothing. He lets the flesh knit itself together slowly, tendons and muscles building layers over frayed nerves and empty circuits. Skin, smooth and puckered scar tissue, paints itself across the raw flesh, expelling the fibers of bandages.
Why did he do it? Originally it was just an impulse, to match the false memories and give himself time to figure out what was happening without causing a problem. Then it transformed as the change in Yuta's karma became clear, a deeper, reflexive desire to let Yuta's dream be a happy one, compared to the nightmares that his own life left him with. In the months since he's taken Yuta on as an apprentice, the boy's insomnia has become clear. Yuta's haunted shadows and exhaustion of May, when Muramasa's forge was barely finished left an impression on him that he will never be able to shake; the trip to the Underworld, that sliver of the Culling games Yuta had shown Muramasa, the scar that splits his chest and arm in half and the outline of stitches across Yuta's skull all reinforced that. By the time he began to regret his choice, it was too late.
How is explaining that going to do anything to fix what he's done? He sees no point to it, so he waits.
This time, when Yuta asks for an answer, the boy in front of him is himself in entirety, suffering and all. And Muramasa can't interrupt his work to repair the damage done to his hands (his own fault, for letting himself get stuck as Tasuke) to run and hide this time. ]
It ain't — [ His voice, hoarse from disuse, betrays his first attempt to respond, to explain that he doesn't have a good reason why he did what he did. The second attempt is waylaid entirely as Yuta's technique changes course from repair to restoration, coolness sinking into his spirit. It pours into him with a rush that he hasn't felt in almost a month, like a diverted river attempting to fill an empty reservoir. He doesn't want it. ]
no subject
[ He tugs at the grasp on his wrists, old bandages crumpling against Yuta's palms as Muramasa tries to pull away. The energy from the technique rushes through his circuits, nerves lighting up in sympathy as his spirit drinks in the fuel it was missing. (Unbeknownst to him, his pupils widen even in the bright afternoon sunbeam, a Servant's body confusing physical pleasure with spiritual sustenance.)
Does Yuta think this is the way to get what he wants? To make Muramasa owe him? Doesn't Muramasa already owe him a thousand times over for his failure to take care of him properly? To adhere to his responsibility? He won't accept it. ]
no subject
But Muramasa really does not make that easy.
The protest that he's met with is not unlike a slap in the face. It is the most uncharitable way to interpret Yuta's intentions. (Of which there are no ulterior ones, it is simply the same desire to help that has always been there in all previous instances of sharing RCT and physical closeness.) Maybe his master thinks even less of him than he could have imagined. It stings enough to break the placid stillness of his face minutely, the blank expression disturbed like ripples in a pond. His eyes narrow, the corners of his mouth turn down with increased pressure, and his nose scrunches up just so in a telltale sign of displeasure.
Yuta does not let go, grip only tightening even as he moves with the tug, taking a step forward and encroaching into Muramasa's space, almost crowding him back against the workbench. The flow of positive energy neither stops or even falters once. With the increased proximity, it's impossible to miss how wide Muramasa's pupils have gotten. It's impossible, too, not to think of Tasuke on the bed, drunk on heated kisses, pleading for more with eyes just like that.
Yuta staunchly ignores the memory and the twinge of longing it inspires, focus on keeping his voice as even as possible as he responds, matter of fact. ]
I'm not. I'm just doing what I normally do and what I said I would.
[ To take care of him, that is. Yuta is nothing if not known for being a man of his word. No matter how upset he might be with Muramasa right now, he's already earned Yuta's unconditional love and undying devotion. That will not change. There's only one thing he wants. ]
Please just explain yourself, Shishou.
[ To understand. ]
no subject
Nothing I say's gonna change how — 's not gonna fix what I did.
[ He just couldn't help it. The sight of someone dear to him who is shackled to a life full of grief, briefly unchained from it. Even if intentions are what matter the most, a lie is a lie, and letting himself slip under the waters of the dream to make the falsehood flow easier is as much a vice as any of the other hundred and seven of them. ]
Now cut it out.
[ He gives another fruitless tug, laughably weak compared to the strength he normally commands, and the sword rattles on the table behind him. Still, Yuta's power sinks into his circuits, coursing along their path towards his core; his heart thrums to try and move the mana through his body, and under Yuta's hands he is even warmer than usual.
(At this rate, his Magic Resistance will be kicking back in too, maybe.) ]
no subject
Enough so for more cracks in his icy veneer, anger effusing into the tight tone of his voice now. ]
I'm not asking you to fix anything, I'm asking you to explain yourself.
[ Patience may be slipping beyond his reach fast, already worn thin for how tired and upset Yuta is. He's hurting and Muramasa is not giving him what he's asking for nor is he letting him do the one thing that he should have been able to do all along. For once he's angry enough not to be swayed by the rejections thrown at him. His firm hold remains, unyielding. ]
Why? You need this.
[ Even without the lack of his usual strength behind Muramasa's futile struggling, Yuta can feel it in his diminished presence, sense it through the tether of their hands where the positive energy flows through freely to fill the empty space within him, too. It's frightening to feel Muramasa so depleted, even more feverish under his touch. In these circumstances, depriving himself of much-needed mana seems like another way of punishing himself and Yuta won't stand for it. That does nothing to make any of this better. He lets the steady stream turn into a raging river in defiance, cursed energy swelling as he consciously lets go of what little control he has over it in favor of putting his sole focus on converting and channeling. ]
no subject
And if I want it from you, I'll tell you.
[ Like hell will he ask, at this point.
Had Yuta simply healed his damaged hands and then asked without trying to restore Muramasa to his usual levels of energy, he might have an answer by now. But Muramasa has the bit between his teeth. He remembers, with angry humiliation, the way Tasuke latched onto Yuta's ambient unused energy in escalating friendly touches that culminated into the same hunger for more, the want to feel satiated. Tasuke didn't know the problem the way Muramasa does, and that want simply helped convince him that it was a good idea to... to do what he did. Tasuke didn't know he was a parasite, and Yuta didn't realize he was being used. Even though the love was there, and it was real as the rest of the dream.
Power keeps rushing from Yuta's hands into Muramasa through his wrists, spreading along his bones and circuits and into that vast empty part of his spirit where his power usually resides. It makes his nerves light up with the familiar (unwanted) electric thrill of sustenance, makes him want to be receptive for more. But RCT is not directed by a mudra or an incantation. It is a raw application of power, directed by Yuta's will alone. Were Muramasa willing to accept the gift, that would be enough.
There is no indicator of Muramasa's Magic Resistance finally kicking in on his part. None of the usual sparks of his magecraft, no electric blue light. One moment power flows easily into him from Yuta, and in the next it evaporates before it can even reach his skin. As if it never was there to begin with. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)