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SEEMS I GOT IT WRONG—
WHO? hei ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dipolar and some various other punks
WHAT? closed prompts for dreamshares, hit me up if you want in on this
WHEN? december 12th to december 23rd
ANYTHING ELSE? content warning: child soldiers, suicidal ideation, graphic violence/gore
dipolar and some various other punksWHAT? closed prompts for dreamshares, hit me up if you want in on this
WHEN? december 12th to december 23rd
ANYTHING ELSE? content warning: child soldiers, suicidal ideation, graphic violence/gore
ＡＲＴＨＵＲ．
(russian winter in vladivostok. a stone's throw from north korea. despite how close it sits to japan, its cold bites as mercilessly as the rest of the country's weather does. arthur can still feel it, even seated inside the dining car of a train headed for — where? with nothing outside but a vast expanse of inexplicable ocean, it's difficult to tell direction. with a sky that looks caught between dusk and dawn, it's difficult to tell time. the dreamer's impression of these oddities is bleakly accepting, finding them to be something run of the mill.ＭＩＤＮＩＧＨＴＥＲ
the only heat in the area rolls off of a wide spread of food laid out across a too-small table. overwhelming overtones of a gnawing hunger make it irresistible.
hei sits across from arthur in a nineties parka, forking bite after bite after bite of his meal into his mouth with a numbness that threatens to sink the scene into the waves lapping at salt-stained window panes. looking at him, he's almost unrecognizable with long, unwashed hair pulled away from his neck in a thick ponytail and an unkempt face of patchy scruff. the reality of it becomes stark when his hand stills and dead eyes lift with a response so quiet it'd be easy to miss under the anvil-like weight of a flask dragged closer.)
I killed Pavlichenko. Is that all you wanted to discuss?
(hei's sure he knows who's there as he raises the flask to drink — an action that triggers a worrisome groan of the train's metal skeleton trying to hide its shame. but it's just not arthur he's seeing, not really.)
(up, down, left, right— it's all the same underwater. it rushes and surrounds, cuts off air supply and threatens to drown him. there's no supernatural quality, no ethereal glow to guide him out of the blackness of it. what it is in reality? a submerged hall of a building that fell victim to land subsidence, abandoned and left to sink.ＲＹＵＪＩ
if that wasn't stressful enough already, there's no obvious exit in this research and development department. logic would tell anyone to follow the gradual upward slant of the ceiling if it manages to be found in the dark, but what's another potential cause for alarm is the sound of a struggle close by. the crackle of movement that's swift when unchallenged by current. turning to face it will bump midnighter into someone who's been searching for him since the plunge and bring him within arm's reach of gloved hands.
while m isn't who he's been expecting, hei's mind makes up for the oddity by slotting the man into the place of whoever it belonged to first. the change, albeit convenient, fills the room with a contagious, sick kind of panic that sets the mood for the entire nightmare. eyes narrowing at the foggy outline, he tries to grab at an arm to get the teenager's attention. it's obvious why: he has the only ventilator, one that fits snugly in the mouth without oxygen tank or tube.
one he's insisting on giving to him, offering it out with a slow shake.)
(ryuji stands in a lake at twilight, full moon high and shedding an eerie lambency that seems to dance on blond hair. a dense rainforest grows up around him and, from the shore, great, timeless roots sneak into the shallows to sponge up what drink they can. it'd be a peaceful scene, but something's innately wrong. something's off and it's hard to pick out any one thing until he's taken his first step — only to meet the resistance of a liquid so unlike water that the viscous surface rolls instead of splashes.ＡＣＨＩＬＬＥＳ
red. the vast body of water sits still and dark like blood, so rich a colour it blocks light from seeing beneath its layers at the unevenness he can feel underfoot.
a foreboding atmosphere, giving ryuji the unique sense that this is somewhere he shouldn't be. it makes the air thick and difficult to breathe, but that could be the clouding mugginess that weighs on unaccustomed lungs in a climate so shockingly divorced from all others. or the sudden sighting of a lost child on the shore of the teenager's macabre bath. the haunting image of a small boy no older than twelve with a runt's stature and bruised eyes that point out from beneath a familiar mop of unevenly cut hair.
it's over the lake he stares, calm. the feeling around him is not, rather strikes as something a fearful resolution.)
Area secure; we're moving on.
(a lengthy pause, like the child's wondering if he's been heard, but avoids a direct look at ryuji when he turns away to wipe at a round cheek. it only serves to smear more grime into his skin, only glancing back once to address his idleness.)
You'll die if you stay here with them.
(a satake telescope sits at the edge of a pond in a park long abandoned by the day. insects and tree frogs chirp, a warm breeze ripples grass, no dangers lurk in the setting. there's a serene calm to this dreamscape and a startling expanse of stars, a memory visited and revisited often, which is perhaps what makes it the most troubling kind— no one wants to wake up from something like this, no one wants to lose this boneless kind of relaxation.
there's something lonely about the child sitting in the grass beside the tripod. he doesn't look the least bit bothered, but the mood inward borders melancholic. it's the sense of him being the only one, the last one. of what?)
A shooting star is the light that escapes whenever God opens the lid to the sky...
(as though talking to himself, his voice is soft. quiet enough to be a whisper but carrying well to spite reality's rules. then he moves with slow purpose, breaking the scene's stagnancy with a raise of a hand. palm up like an offering to the starry ceiling above them, wanting to give something back to the glittering little lights, as though he could present himself and be taken away by them. something that should be possible in this world he's found a shred of restfulness in, but he just can't seem to part with any piece of his soul.
moments pass and there's a sudden shift, a movie reel missing a frame, and hei's smiling shyly at achilles like he's been there with him the whole time, sharing in this as friends, as family.)
If you make a wish when you see one, God will listen to it.
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(doesn't know how to tread lightly around any grim topic, not that it is to either of them. lucas won't give a damn, that much he's learned from their brief stint as teammates.
hei's ability kicks in and red eyes glow from behind the mask. he gestures to the tank.)
When you're ready.
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[He says it carefully, unsure more of himself than Hei. What the computer tells him, what knowledge he suddenly just has from its observations... It's untested, but unquestionable.]
[What is he?]
[But it doesn't matter. He has something to do. Maybe that's better than knowing who you are. He isn't sure, so he just lets himself be pulled by the flow of chaotic events surrounding them both. He stands, gives Hei a curt not, and takes the jump, going farther and longer than a boy his age or size should, crashing through the glass and snapping the girl's neck in one fell swoop.]
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the moment lucas crashes through the tank, red eyes track the jump, the aftermath, where the flood is going. he can't let those seeds spread, he can't let the host body ruin the world by filling it with monsters. there are enough of him already and to add any more would disturb a very fine balance, one that never should've existed in the first damn place.
sloshing into the water, he meant what he said: he won't wait to attack. if lucas doesn't remove himself immediately, he'll face hei electrocuting the water with a current powerful enough to make it boil.)
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[What is he?]
[Lucas Trent, perched on top of a storage container, surveys the gruesome scene. It feels right, somehow.]
Is it over?
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Yeah. (punctuated by the worrying groan of the building's constitution, making him tip his head back to huff a sigh. maybe not entirely. they still have to get the hell out of this place and he's not exactly sure how unless they take the watery exit they entered from.)
With me, Lucas. We'll have to find another exit. (dropping from the platform with a quick check of their surroundings — straggling enemies nowhere in the vicinity. maybe they cooked with the plant-life they took out together.)
Do you have people on the outside?
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[He's getting good, he thinks, at lying on his feet.]
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(strides through the leftover pool of water, shoving a lab door open with a quick pace through to clear it.
they're important questions for his next idea, knowing it's a bad one. but he needs all the help he can get and it's difficult to find strength that isn't claimed by the syndicate, the CIA, MI6, a russian or chinese group...)
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[He'll have to disappear completely to make that lie the truth, but something in him feels confident he can accomplish that. There isn't a tracker in his computer. He knows that much. Doesn't know how he knows, just does.]
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this will do. they can get to the roof from here and commandeer one of the helicopters. yin should be there. should be.)
I'm going to Taiwan.
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Where's Taiwan?
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(he's never told anyone that. but it feels appropriate to bring people he wants to protect to his homeland where he can move far more freely.
holds the curtain against the window and smashes the glass with a sharp strike of fist. clears the shards and leans out of the tilted building with a grunt of approval. yeah, this is exactly what he needed. begins his ascent with a climb out the window, shoving up to grab the next frame feet above.)
We're in Japan. Did you know that?
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[So, no.]
[Lucas Trent follows behind eagerly, tailing behind the other man without real difficulty. He cuts himself on sharp glass, and doesn't appear to notice.]
Where's Japan?
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(+1 suffering child, he feels his burdens increase but... he can't just leave him here and he's keeping up. he can stay so long as he keeps up.
at a peculiar outcropping, unstable foundations make him tug his dagger out with a small lean back. whips it high, listens to it sink into roof and latch on the side, tugging it to test its durability. then offers a hand out to lucas with a sharp tilt of his head.)
Topside and we're both free. I'm washing my hands of this place.
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[Even in dreams, all he can think to say is-] I'm sorry-
[He falls, and the world disappears. Moments later, Midnighter wakes on his own floor, empty and aching with a world he thought he left.]
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(a horrified shout and grab for empty air and hei's wrenching at a sheer blanket in a cot he doesn't know in a room he doesn't recognize, searching for a boy he was willing to help.
a rattle of a breath, throat tight, and he leans forward to drag fingers against his eyes.)