![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
let fury have the hour,
WHO? Everybody!
WHAT? Agoge's third TDM! And the death of an important guy. And some very upset royalty.
WHEN? Late 1792, Paris.
ANYTHING ELSE? Violence, as always. Please warn in subject lines for anything beyond physical violence, and move to a personal journal if things go beyond PG-13.
WHAT? Agoge's third TDM! And the death of an important guy. And some very upset royalty.
WHEN? Late 1792, Paris.
ANYTHING ELSE? Violence, as always. Please warn in subject lines for anything beyond physical violence, and move to a personal journal if things go beyond PG-13.
IT'LL BE FINE;
Paris, 1792: revolutionary france.
read the France setting infopages
arrival for new recruits(Note: If you were one of the people who used the previous TDM and want to use that as canon while still participating in this one, feel free! The following will still happen, though the guide will apologize for a malfunction in your BCE causing you to zap through the intervening month instead of joining your comrades like you should have. You'll be assured the glitch is fixed now, and it probably is. Probably.)
You wake up in a Parisian hotel room with a kind woman standing near the door, waiting for you to awaken. You have none of your clothing, just black military-issued underwear, and none of your previous possessions beyond the one you chose (if you remember choosing) to bring with you.
The woman by the door speaks French, and if you didn't understand the language before, you do now. If you have questions as to what's going on, she'll answer: you are a member of COST, a paramilitary organization of time travelers fighting against the Regency, a tyrannous kingdom of the future who are trying to stamp out freedom and individuality in the name of peace.
She will provide you with the clothing necessary to fit in at this time, and show you how to use your BCE implant to look up information on this time period and its social and political mores. She won't let you leave until you're properly dressed to fit in, but once you are, she'll wish you luck.
KILL THE KINGIt doesn't matter if you're new, or if you've been here a while. You'll hear about the execution going on today. It's as though the barely restrained urban chaos of Paris has ground to a halt. Everything is about the king. Is it really going to happen? Are they really going to do it? Can they do it? Is it even possible?
Anyone out of the loop will be filled in, but with no small amount of ridicule: Today is the day of the king's execution. His trial has wrapped up, and the National Convention voted to execute him for treason and tyranny.
The crowd at the execution is enormous, a riotous mob of passion barely restrained. Everyone is jockeying for a better view, with children and adults climbing up on nearby statues, lampposts, the sides of houses, rooves, some even hang from windows. Everyone watches the scaffold.
The prison cart arrives with no fanfare save the yells of the crowd. Within it sits a small, fat little man, looking like he's doing his best to remain composed. He's brought to the scaffold, and his crimes are read out: colluding with foreign powers, and the crime of royalty, which is anathema to the republic of France.
When asked for his final words, Louis Capet, known to some as King Louis XVI, speaks in a quiet voice. "I forgive my enemies."
When the blade comes down, the crowd errupts into cheers. Many rush forward to touch the blood of a king, dipping bits of cloth in it in an attempt to save it.
I PREDICT A RIOTIt's as though all the built up tension in Paris exploded when the king was killed.
Who knows what started it. Rumors spread like wildfire, and it doesn't matter, does it? In the end, most of Paris is swarmed with chaos, especially in the areas nearest to where the king was executed. There's no doubt that the riot and the king's death are directly related; no peasant currently throwing stones and breaking windows will deny it.
Fights are happening with great frequency. It only takes a word, a half sentence, for someone to decide you're some kind of counter-revolutionary. There is a current of anxiety in Paris that hasn't gone away; after reaching a fever pitch, it has expressed itself with violence and chaos.
let's visit the tuileriesThe Tuileries was the royal palace in Paris, the last residence of the king before his death. Of course the people of France end up clamoring at its gates, screaming profanities and attempting to scale them.
The majority of the guard let them do this, making only the most token of efforts to keep the peasantry back. But one guard, a man by the name of Antoine Colin, seems to become spooked and shoots repeatedly into the crowd before someone knocks him out.
By then, though, it's too late. The crowd was rambunctious, but not murderous. Now it's bloodthirsty, and the gates are stormed. It isn't long before the common people of France are trampling through the corridors of power. Inside, they'll mostly find servants running and hiding, and lots of valuables to steal.
Most are content with that, but not all. Some clamor for the deaths of the queen and the royal children-- per the laws of inheritance, Marie Capet's remaining son is now King of France. Should he not die as well?
The queen is hidden in a safe room, a hollow wall inside her apartments. Do you try to find her? Try to save her? Try to kill her yourself?
...And what about those kids hiding in there with her?
BRING IN THE TROOPSThe riot in the Tuileries lasts several hours, well past nightfall. It's beginning to peter off, people loosing their energy or vigor, when the sound of gunfire echoes from the front courtyard.
General Lafayette has arrived to save the queen, and brought with him a retinue of personal soldiers. All on horseback, brandishing firearms and sabers, they stream through the expansive halls of the Tuileries and attack anyone who looks out of place. They're here to clean up this mess with no concern for more filthy peasants getting in the way.
AftermathThe night is a long one. Several fires break out in various parts of Paris, shops are looted, and several die in the Tuileries. The queen has disappeared, along with Lafayette. Some say she and Lafayette died, and they'll show you the bodies for a couple sou. Others claim they saw them riding off into safety just before sunrise. There are already talks of hunting them down, trying to find the traitors.
Only one thing is known for sure: It may be advisable to stay inside for the foreseeable future.
read the France setting infopages
nice nat 20 on the acrobatics tho
Except, he wasn't their mark. Not much he can do in the way of persuading now, though, since he's aggro'ed all of them and probably anyone else who could see, from the night sky, lightning just striking down in a pointed direction like a homing beacon. He goes to stand up, to enact out his shoddy plan, when something grapples onto his ankle, and starts to pull him down, hard, fast, rightly downward and scarily heading with accelerated velocity to the ground below.
And then, the thing he expects to happen, doesn't, and suddenly his body is slinging against a hard surface, bouncing against it harshly. It takes a moment for him to realize what was actually happening from this angle, but when he does, he sees Hei, and god, he has an urge to punch him.
That hat's gone too. Sorry, dude. Hope you weren't attached.]
So. [It's through a garbled, harsh voice that he maintains a tone of pure sarcasm] How's it hangin'?
[As if right on cue, of course, in this topsy-turvey world view, Ryuji catches sight of more guards at the ground level.
Look. He just wanted a chill night to do some underage drinking and watch the world burn. He didn't need this.]
no subject
ryuji speaks up and it's a bitter joke that has hei's eyes flicking down to take a good look at them. their position's a bit grim, especially with soldiers circling below like beasts in a pen waiting for a bite to eat. he's accidentally pissed far too many of them off today, by no actual fault of his own — this time.)
I'll let go. (an empty threat, obvious by the tightening of strong fingers around the boy's ankle, before looking up and away.) Using your abilities in plain view... they may be fool enough to believe it's the wrath of God, but not twice...
(is ryuji being nagged while they dangle together?
yes.
moving forward, he figures they'll have to make a swing to the next building's verandas. relatively close enough to make it well within a reachable arc, but if they don't work together they'll never get ryuji over there. something he hums shortly at, eyes narrow down the length of their bodies. then he starts to move his arm, little by little making shallow strokes that start to teeter the blond this way and that.)
no subject
[Here he goes again, probably trusting someone he shouldn't- but some of that has been ameliorated by the fact that he had risked both life and limb to grab onto him in the first place. Oh, this was still, 100% his fault, but for now, the choice is between the fellow trickster or the guards below, and honestly? Eh, he'll take his chances with someone who's pissing the fuzz off. 10/10 would do it again.
But if he wanted to, Hei could easily let go and just let him fall to the ground. That fear is still there, but take note: his eventual revenge will be angry an ascendant in his fury. A lump builds in his throat. Right- they need to find a way to get out of this mess. He can deal with bullying the other later.]
Whatever, dude, I'm not about to just sit there and get shot at, m'kay?!
[Pshew- blood rushing to his head starts to make his feel feel numb, but Hei's got a good sense of a plan forming, and Ryuji synchronizes enough with the motion to understand exactly what the next steps are. He sees the world below him start to shake, his body starting to swing with momentum.
One
Two
Three
It's just enough to find the apex of a pendulum swing, as his hands grab onto a jutting out fixture. It takes about a moment to steady himself, happy to see the world from its proper before looking to see if the other will follow. His eyes widen when he hears gunshots, as he grits his teeth and goads him.]
Hurry up!
no subject
shirking the order shouted at him, planning to do exactly that, ryuji's last swing propels him back enough to make his own jump after a shove of his foot against the wall to avoid more smoky shots of muskets aimed upwards. which is too close for comfort, one shot cracking wood of the rail the sashes are tied to. now or never, alternative being to smash into the ground beneath them, hei crosses the divide with their loosened fabrics and scrabbles against the platform to hoist himself and roll onto it.
he's getting too old for this shit.
but ryuji's waiting for whatever reason and hei's up with an aggressive slap at his own shirt to rid it of roof-dust.)
Alright, (he breathes, motioning for the inside of the — whatever building they've wound up scaling.) Through here and out the back. They'll have this place surrounded soon and by then I aim to be gone.
(a duck at a volley of musket balls that tear into wall and spray them with debris, blinked away from with a hurried push by ryuji and into the seemingly abandoned home. now that he gets a look at the decor it's easy enough to tell that's what it is, along with the telltale signs of struggle in the upended bedroom their boots leave solid footprints in. he can't muster the sympathy needed to voice an opinion, rushing forward for the stairs.)
no subject
[Cooperation, at least, is the only thing that's going to get them the both out of here safely, and he's more than willing to comply rather than defect. Ryuji doesn't even see the opportunity to fuck Hei over- how easy it would be to make the other worse off or betray him at the last moment. But this is prisoner's dilemma in a way, not that he would understand the game theory component- it's just in his nature to be dumb and not button smash the betray switch.
Soon enough, they're both scaling through the house- what a gut wrenching sight to see and know what had happened here, but, right... there's really no time to think about the ramifications. Is that a crib in the corner? God.
The stairs are easy enough to push through, and Ryuji takes a moment to freeze at the giant cabinet nearby. He waves Hei to keep on moving through, he'll catch up in a moment- but he has a feeling that the other doesn't care that much either way. It takes a heave, but he pushes the entire bulking figure over, the fine glassware smashing everywhere, which is good. The obvious detriment is to block the path and make it more difficult to follow, but the unexpected boon was the crackling of dishware, whose sound provides a distraction as to whether or not they had left from a window.
Nah, they're escaping through the gift shop, and as he hurries past a half-loaf of bread on the kitchen table, he double backs a step and grabs that, too, before following Hei straight out of the building. Maybe a solid 10 seconds behind, but he hopes it's not too much time.
Heart pounding out of his chest, he makes his way through the back as Hei had said and starts to follow his figure, easy to spot if you're particularly looking for movements in the shadow. All Ryuji can hope for is to lose their chase long enough to reposition. COST will be getting them out in less than 8-12 hours, judging by the text the Commander had sent out to everyone. Then, it'll just be a matter of time waiting it out, right?]
no subject
this part of the chase is one he excels at and ryuji's sharp enough with the cabinet distraction to make him to lag back just long enough to make it easier for them to regroup. has to nod his respect at the breaking dish-ware and the resulting shouts of confusion from below. at least following a man who blends into shadow like he's very much a part of it shouldn't be a challenge for his new teammate, not hiding from him. the soldiers are thrown for a loop, though, when hei spots ryuji and extends an arm to signify a slow in their pace the second they hit a crowd of straggling rioters.
they're calm enough to weave through, chattering amongst themselves and moving again towards the square where most of the action took place hours earlier. shouldering through at a steady walk match them, the rest is simple: find alternate disguises and duck out of street.)
Cover that bright hair with something. (ryuji addressed while hei shucks himself out of his weathered jacket, letting it drop to the ground to get trampled, leaving him in the cotton blouse pockmarked with blood and sweat.
a little more and they'll be able to steal some rest, turning his face away from checking on the soldiers tailing them who seem momentarily confused by the up in arms civilians. dark eyes search storefronts instead, for doors that haven't been barred or irreparably splintered by the pillages.)
no subject
And from the looks of it, with Hei. That was definitely a turn of events, but... for better or worse?
Ryuji nods as he's implored to cover up his unnatural hair. Maybe, in the future, he ought to let the color fade out and let his normal roots take hold, so he can blend in better with the populace, but that thought just sucks. He didn't want to blend in with others. It was a symbol for everything he stood for; the urge to rebel up against the norms that bind his entire generation by the wrists, shackled to the confines of boring desk jobs and shitty, equally meaningless home lives. Nonetheless, he does as told, carefully passing by someone whose Phrygian cap looks loosened enough to give one swift yank from.
The guy turns around, looking for something, barely realizing that he had his effects stolen, half out of drunkenness, half out of his political rage. This was disgusting. Far enough away from his act of thievery, he slides the cap over his head. Kind of works like a beanie, but, not quite. Speaking of drunken assholes- a few approach, cheering for the revolution, and Ryuji cheers back (not doing so would be suspicious), but the words are acrimonious on his tongue.
Come on dude, find somethin' already.
His eyes catch a candlemaker's shop, without signs of anything lit in the window front. He knows this place- he's been sent errands here while he worked at the bar, and it would have been out of place to not see the dim flicker of various light sources from the edges of its entrance.
Ryuji gives a short tug to Hei's sleeve, head bobbing towards that area. As misdirection, he talks about something entirely unrelated.]
Shit, you think I coulda picked out a nicer lookin' hat or something.
no subject
it gets done what ryuji wants done, however. his attention's pointed in the right direction, however briefly. it flicks away from the candlemaker's shop to avoid the possible attention before nodding once — and he tugs a shawl off of an elderly woman's shoulders and tossing it around his head and mouth to hide his face, flapping it away and holding it against his chest until the confusion passes and her family stop spying on the crowd.)
It suits you. (ducking, right after the clap-back, aiming for the door of the shop with a heavy shoulder and a hand on the door knocker.
the sooner they get inside, the better. whether or not the soldiers are looking will have to be left up to chance, but second the wood gives way to a large, warm space, counters, and countless candles, he feels far safer. and that's telling.)
Bar the door. I'll check the windows.
no subject
Eh. It's comin' off the second we get in there. [How in the world did they get to this point, exactly?
Oh right. Being fucking ninjas and Hei's glaring inability to avoid trouble, apparently. Now that the threat is over, for now, and Ryuji is busy trying to find something to push up against the door to keep it shut, he peers over to him as he works on the windows. It's still dark in here, but something about that image kind of suits the mood.
Eventually, Ryuji settles on pushing some tattered rug material up against the slit towards the bottom of the door. If they're going to sit in darkness, whatever, but if there's light, and- there's an abundance of that potential all around them- they don't need the shop to give off signs of activity inside. Next up is to move the heavy casing of the shop wares's shelving up against the frame.
He heaves a push with his shoulder, and eventually, it budges. Okay. Looks like he's secured entrance and exit. That should be enough for now, right? Last up, a candle.
Can electricity light a candle? Ryuji ponders this for a second or two, deciding, in the end eh, fuck it. What's the worst that could happen? before re-masking himself to channel kinetic energy into it until it sparks and lights.]
We got ourselves a bug-out, dude.
no subject
a sweep of the fabric, checking the exterior briefly and with his baited exhale. no sign of a threat nearing them, but the bogeys push away from the shop to heckle civilians with obvious descriptions of them. talking wildly with their hands to which the townsperson shakes their head at. for the time being, this will do fine for shelter and his weight shifts from the window, despite hovering near the wide sill. it'd be a decent place to sit, to keep watch even with how dark it is outside, but his silhouette might show in the window — he'll have to draw away and leave the duty to the straggling folk outside the door who come and go, all with different stories of the day.)
Clear. (a tight remark, while he rolls broad shoulders at the pain rest brings.
his adrenaline is flagging, joints are beginning to ache, and when his exhaustion reaches the point where his first comforting thought is taking a seat on the floor against a wax-drip shelf of myriad candle styles, he obliges it. back to the wall, he sinks and slumps.)
"Bug-out"?
no subject
Fixating the light source in a properly secured fashion, he sighs. Every good thief knows what a safe room looks like, right? Sure, there aren't cognitive distortions coming out of every direction, but... he supposes it'll do for the time being. Funny, just a year ago he'd be so goddamn helpless right now, but he might have had a few good teachers lend him a hand over the period. If anything, he's a little proud that he safely got away. There's nothing more thrilling than the feeling of successfully getting away from someone trying to chase you down.]
Huh? Yeah, man. Like... y'know, when a disaster hits and you find a place to hide it out. Zombie apocalypse or somethin'. Tch, you don't know much, do you.
[He draws his lips into a thin line, slightly judging him at least at the teasing level. It's around this time that he finds a spot on the floor to find himself some comfortable leeway. Using that spell earlier had drained a good deal from his energy reserves, and coupled with the physical threat of roof jumping and escaping pursuers, he feels a little beat, too.
Ryuji places the candle between them, their positions relative to each other about equidistant from from the small flicker of light that it provides. He looks over at Hei, for the first time actually taking in his features a little bit better now that he's not trailing him and running.
He looks... kind of busted up, honestly.
Ryuji's hand gropes at the shop counter, relieving the baguette that he had stolen from that depressing house they landed in. Pulling it down, he rips it in half, weighing which was the bigger of the two cordoned off pieces, offering the hunkier one to Hei, across the distance.]
Well... Here. [He sighs, not backing down from ensuring that the other would take the makeshift meal he worked so hard to steal.] My first candlelit dinner. Greeeat.
no subject
aside from being someone who clearly doesn't know the difference between a joke and an assault on his character, he stays silent and considers the new phrase he's just learned. sayings aren't his forte and his exposure to the speech patterns of such a modern teenager is — well, it's sobering. he doesn't know much, not in this sense, but language is not something he prides himself in. it's a means to an end, learned in order to survive much like this french wasn't.
his eyes only drop when ryuji sits. drag to the side when he's scrutinized. he has nothing to say, but shouldn't he try anyway?)
You— (hm.
what he's met when his head turns to face the boy more stolidly is a bit shocking, stomach giving a very painful flip at the sight of the baguette. it looks delicious, if a bit old, but the hunger that suddenly gnaws at him is unbearable. enough to make him press a hand to the centre of his shirt, gloved fingertips dragging into the linen of the tunic, scraping the skin beneath it. fuck, does he even deserve half of that? is so precious a commodity meant to be wasted on his voracious appetite?
it's suffering now; he doesn't feel like eating. to anyone who knew him — knew —, that'd mean the end of the world. but ryuji doesn't and continues to hold it out like it means nothing, coupled with another flippant remark. one that takes the gravity away from accepting the husk of a real meal.
so he accepts it, weighing it in his hand. then lifts it to press beneath his nose, inhaling its scent quietly.)
So disasters and apocalypses have hit your world...?
no subject
Ryuji watches with some curiosity as to whatever the hell it is that Hei's doing. He's never seen someone lust after bread, before. It's kind of weird, makes him a little uncomfortable to watch, and puts into question how any man ought to be looking at a loaf of 2-3 day old stale yeast and flour.
He goes to open his mouth and ask whether or not he's going to consume it or just fuck it to death or something, when Hei interrupts him with the utmost perfect interjection to change the subject and steer suspicion away from the carnage his nose is laying waste to. O...kay...
But on a scale of 1-10, how rude is it that Ryuji takes a bite, you know, like a normal human being does when they're hungry? He swallows it down. God, the quicker he can get away from this staple of the French diet, the better. He longed for the days of rice. He never thought -that- would be something he'd come to miss once he left Tokyo, but here he is. Homesickness works in weird ways, probably.]
The world I left behind... uh. Well, it was headed that way. Thoughts were becoming reality and some holy grail was sucking out the desires of humanity to control our thoughts. It was some weird, trippy shit.
[And it also sounds pretty... damn near impossible.]
What about your world?
no subject
thoughts manifesting in reality. as what? physical forms? this all catalyzed by a holy grail. the cup, or the concept? it's convoluted, it's a lot for having just met the boy, but he can't say he doesn't understand the situation (if only a little). dreams and nightmares are bad enough without any help from supernatural phenomena that happen in his own world. just the barest idea of what ryuji's alluding to is enough to make the conversation an uncomfortable one.
his careful appreciation of the bread is cut short, tugging it away from his face. he pinches at the crust that's hardened and peels it up, dissecting what parts he knows will be easier on his stomach.)
It's not my world anymore. (what a vague... bitch...
no word of a lie, however, maybe even a bit watered down for ryuji. the realest answer would be that he doesn't believe it ever was his world, that he was a mistake and a foreign body that needed to be taken care of. that's how it treated him, at least, taking and taking and taking from him and never giving him anything back.)
I'm Hei.
(finally decides to take his first bite of the baguette, teeth pinching what softer bits he could sort out for himself and tearinga suitable piece off, chewing slowly. then quickly, barely managing to swallow and breathe in before he's taking another bite, then another, and another.)
no subject
Of course, the thing Ryuji had found most revolting of all that crazy shit was trying to take away freedom from people. Everyone should have choices, even if they're going to make bad ones.
Those problems aside, he takes in Hei's cool indifference to his origin point as a little off-centered. He imagines lots of people who joined COST of their volition ended up doing so to get away from their own problems, or to curtail issues that were inherently making life rough for them. Then there are the numbers who don't recall anything about the signup process.]
Doesn't look like this one is, either. [He offers a dumb smirk at that, all toothy and uneven. Hei might be trying to worm his way out of questioning, but Ryuji's an agitator. He's going to agitate.] Eh, but who's to say anyone belongs anywhere.
[... and by the way he starts to consume and devour, he gets the feeling that he probably doesn't belong anywhere. And because he likes to watch stuffy people lose their shit, he imagines this same scene at a fancy hotel buffet.]
Dude, slow down!
[Ryuji looks down at his own piece of bread, and for the first time in his life, feels sympathy for it. He's not nearly as voracious as the other, though, and sighs as he splits the remainder of his half into a quarter. Shit, if he's this hungry... he probably needs this a hell of a lot more than he does.
He offers a second unholy sacrifice to Hei's stomach, holding out the piece he just broke off. Enjoy your bread vore, dude.]
Ryuji.
no subject
the second his fingers reach his mouth and he has nothing more to bite into, hei grabs for the proffered bread ryuji holds out to him and digs his teeth into it with a heavy stare at the far wall.
the crust he's picked at and pried off is turned to in time, crunching on that when he has nothing left to eat. it hurts his jaw, but is helpful in his reintegration to the present where ryuji sits staring dumbly and hei's left realizing that he's just ravenously eaten three servings of bread without a word of warning put out there. doesn't feel like an apology is warranted, at least, when he makes an awkward shift against the wall and presses a crumb-covered glove to his stomach with a close of tired eyes.)
What did you do on that roof?
(it's sudden and prying, but the lightning that was showered down on them was a startling thing to witness so soon after being displaced from his world... where something like that could be considered normal.
a deeper breath's taken to aid in the settling of the food, a quiet inhale, before a somber stare finds its way back to ryuji.)
That lightning... where did it come from?
no subject
Uh... it's a long story.
[Every time he had to explain it, he starts at different points. There's no rhyme or reason behind any of his abilities, other than the snippets that he does understand- it's a time like this that Akira or Morgana would be better to have around. Maybe not so much as the guidance that he prooobably needs, but more to help him know what's the upper limit of his poker hand that he ought not to dish out to people that he's just met.
Nevertheless, Ryuji absolutely sucks at secrets and holding back. Maybe it's a constant inkling for recognition or the urge to be impressive, or something, but he digs deep into his pocket and pulls out his skull mask. He thumbs over the outline of the eyes, feeling its warm, almost vibrating presence stir in his hands. It didn't make sense- how this even existed outside of the Metaverse to begin with, or how Ryuji could summon in plain daylight.]
It's magic, I guess. Me and my friends back home... [A small pause, recognition to the fact that he feels more alone than ever without him at their side] ... we got these powers from accepting ourselves. Mythological tricksters that we summon to help us stop the assholes of the world from letting their fucked up desires run free.
[His eyes meet up with Hei's, recognizing that his attention is pretty much focused on him. Did he say something weird?]
That's... pretty much all there is to it. A bunch of vigilantes who got fed up with shitty adults.
no subject
You summon familiars to fight for you?
(hm. there's a problem he has with that.)
I didn't see anything, when you brought that lightning down on the guards.
no subject
Ryuji can't make much sense of it, either, but it's nice to know that he isn't defenseless out there.]
Yeah. I guess they're kinda like that. Personas, at least. When Joker was making contracts with them, we'd hold up the shadows and negotiate until they agreed to give us their power. He can summon a bunch of 'em, but I only got this one.
[He can't sense hostility, if it's there, either.]
I guess they can't take shape in this world. Anyway, my magic's mostly centered around buffing strength and... the lightning you saw earlier.
no subject
Buffing? (considers this game term, one lost on him.) You mean strength through muscle.
(eyes dropping to ryuji's body, narrowing at his physique.)
...
(judges quietly, lips a firm line.)
no subject
no subject
Don't judge a book by its cover, dude.
[Usually speaking, he couldn't care less what people thought about him; it's how he got through life, straight out of a page of the Slacker's Guide to Life, but with Hei he feels compelled to fight back at the words that are said without speaking.
It's always the scrawny guys that want to fight until they're ground beef.]
My physical attacks are pretty sick.
no subject
(credit where credit's due. he's not the least bit aware of the things personas can really accomplish.
props an elbow up on the peak of his knee, leaning back against the wall.)
It must tire you a great deal.
no subject
Yeah... If I use 'em too much, I'll die. Using your persona drains life outta you.
[He's never put too much thought to it. He just knows that after a particularly intense battle he feels like his limbs are about to break off and sometimes he feels lik he can barely move, but he's never gone past the limit of what seems right. At least, not to the point where if he summoned just one more time he'd be... well, gone.]
Eh, who knows. Maybe I'll die young or something 'cause of it. Not somethin' I can worry about. Either way, I gotta use it or else I'd be... kinda useless.
[Which... is the last thing he'd ever want to be.]
no subject
kind of impossible when there's nothing else to do but sit here and ruminate on everything. understands that he's a man half-alive and shouldn't even go that far, that ryuji is living unrepentantly and the way he likes — he can't compare himself to someone like this. "hei" is a tool of war, someone who does other people's biddings in exchange for small comforts he can't feel.
thankfully ryuji is a master of his own, using this persona most of the time instead of stretching himself too thin.)
Be careful of your limits. (an obvious suggestion, pausing before adding another:) If you die young, be sure to resolve your regrets before that time comes.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)