[ the feeling of wanting to stay somewhere is almost entirely unfamiliar to damien. almost.
but it's an old feeling - and a fleeting one that slots into brief windows between not having anywhere to stay.
he is generally the kind of person who does whatever he wants at any given moment, but this is a specific want that he'll turn away from and head back out the door without waiting for the others. ]
Whatever "it" is?? Yasusada isn't entirely sure he understands all that just transpired, but he knows what happiness feels like. That's a good sign.
Was that good, Okita-kun?
It looks like they're leaving--Yasusada crouches down to pick up his scarf, winding it back around his neck. He picks up the earring, too, and tucks it into his clothes; pompom now has one (1) earring and one (1) sketchbook. I forgot he had the sketchbook so it's just been on the counter somewhere I guess ANYWAY HE'S BRINGING THAT ALONG let's go]
[Happy vibes are good vibes! And even if Kagemaru has disappeared, Atsushi still feels like they've done something significant here. They helped, and that's what's important.
Atsushi will reach up to give Charles scritches as they leave. ...and if there's any fruit left he will eat some of it before he goes.
[you all gather your stuff and your party! and sure, you can have some of the fruit leftover.
when you exit to the hallway, it's a little brighter. there are less portraits on the wall. now, there are childish drawings in chalk all over. four stick figures, one red, two blues and one orange, all play together with a scribble of grey. it looks like someone maybe had fun some fun with their imagination.
aw. fondness flickers across vax's face at the chalk drawings, and he reaches up to gently brush his fingertips underneath the closest one, careful not to destroy the artwork.
damien's already taken off so he can be first this time, though vax is pretty much immediately behind him, hand at his belt. he's like slightly less tense than earlier, but also, sometimes you're just used to fighting all the time!! so here we go.
pick door mr "i walk away" he's aware of these habits ]
[ damien is just heading into whichever door is closest that they haven't been through yet.
he swings the door wide open and heads in. last time was just a fucking kitchen with an eldritch birthday baby, so, no fear? the closest thing he knows to happy is no fear. ]
[At least stop to appreciate our child's drawings, Damien!
But sure, after stopping to smile at the chalk drawings (and trying to figure out which one is which person), he'll follow into the door Damien went into.]
it's a grand room, like the kind of place you'd go to see broadway. the walls are painted the same way, with splashes of color, swirling around aimlessly. big curtains hang on either side of the stage, pulled back so that you can enjoy the show.
this castle - it takes the shape of your deepest desires. it could be a place to call home. don't you want to stay here forever?
the carpet in front of you slopes downward, with one long aisle leading right up to the stage itself. on either side of the aisle are rows of seats, and some of them are filled. with what? you can't say. they just look like someone is sitting in them, heads turned at an angle that isn't quite possible. staring right at you.
the show is about to start, what are you doing? maybe go find your seats!]
that didn't take long. immediately, vax is moving to stick to the shadows, protectively putting an arm out to keep the others (that he can, anyway, damien might be out of reach and also protect the genkis) to being stealthy just in case something immediately tries to leap out at them.
...and then nothing does.
well! vax has always said that he doesn't trust anyone that hates the theater (?) even if the uncanny feywild vibes here are terrible, and that shivery don't you want to stay here forever hasn't left, and there seems to not be much to do but move carefully towards the seats, i guess. ]
you don't recognize the people being shuffled on stage. but they don't seem like they want to be here - they're pushed and shoved and halfway dragged to their marks by figures in black bodysuits, arranged as necessary. like puppets, almost.
the first, a man with wavy brown hair and a long brown coat, blearily looks up from where he's been positioned. his right arm hangs loosely by his side, and blood leaks slowly out from under the patch over his right eye. for a moment, he just stands and stares into the distance, and then the figure in the black bodysuit jostles him. he winces, and takes a deep breath.
and steps forward. the second he does, there's the sound of barking dogs in the distance. he stares out over the hall, not making eye contact with anybody, and then snaps his fingers. a noose falls from the ceiling, right in front of him. he steps up to it, and hooks it around his neck. and as he does - the floor falls out from underneath him. there's a sharp crack, as his neck breaks. he's still alive, though, you can see his eyes move. and then - the lights flicker. in the span of the dark, his body falls through the hole in the floor, and there's a sickening crunch. the sound of dogs, snarling and yelping as they fight each other for food.
this is…
the second, a young woman with long dark brown hair, is pushed forward. she instinctively kicks at the figure pushing her forward, but doesn't connect. her hair comes undone from the braid it's in, and as she turns her head, you can see the pointed ears. she spits blood, and wipes it from her mouth with fingerless hands, shaking. she is less eager to follow the first act, but she has to. she doesn't have a choice.
so she steps forward, and stares out defiantly into the dark. and as she does, a thousand arrows fly through the air and pierce her body. thud, thudthudthudthud - they hit every part of her, head to toe. some go through her entirely, leaving holes and bursts of blood. one of them hits her in the throat, so she can't even scream. and then, as she drops to her knees, eyes wide and shocked, she starts to disintegrate. slowly, agonizingly. it looks like she's in horrible, awful pain, writhing, gurgling... until she's gone.
who…
you cannot get on the stage. you can only watch. but why would you want to do anything? you don't know who these people are.
[ it's the sound, first - the dogs, the man. vax doesn't know him, but he knows what a noose is, and he jerks up from his seat immediately, on edge, because no one else is moving. no one in this fucking sham of an audience is doing anything. he starts to yell, a - ] What the fuck -
[ and then the woman steps forward next.
and it's.
it's strange. vax'ildan is no stranger to torture or violence or suffering. he's seen it all, experienced it all himself, even, but this feels impossible to watch. this - just seeing this woman sends a bolt of lightning that roots him to the spot, and makes his heart wrench in his chest. for a moment he's just stuck there like he's frozen in time, breath caught, silenced.
and for a brief moment, he doesn't recognize this person. does he?
does he?
he's looking at pointed ears. he's looking at a face that looks just like his own.
the first arrow hits and vax makes a choked off noise before he even realizes it. then the second the third the fourth the fifth and they keep coming and coming and
the name rips out of his throat before he even realizes, the scream of a wounded animal more so than a person, of a name, a person, vax could never forget - ]
VEX'AHLIA!
[ no.
no, no no no no no no no.
by the time the arrows stop, vax has leapt over the seat in front of him and tries to move further, but he can't. he slams his hands up against whatever's in the way, against the people in this fake audience, and it doesn't matter that it might be an illusion because vax'ildan knows her, and that's vex, and every other sight in this room narrows down as he watches his sister, his other half, his heart,
fade powerless and gurgling into dust, into nothing, his eyes locked with hers until she's gone
and vax is just standing here. useless. powerless, shaking with rage and despair and fury and agony all at once.
[ damien just looks... pained by that first act. he doesn't know them, so he doesn't care. that's the way the world works! why would you care about someone you don't know?
whether it's an act or not is kind of unclear to him. reality can be a hard thing to figure out sometimes. especially in a place like this. but even if it was real he feels too frozen to move. his hands are on his knees, clammy.
and he just watches vax lose it, because. well. what else is he supposed to do? what else does he ever do but watch other people's breakdowns? ]
Death is all he's ever known, after all. It's what he's made for, in the most literal sense--and unlike the older swords, or the treasured keepsakes, Yasusada has only ever known war. War, sickness, isolation, and more war.
On occasion, he knows, death can be made performative--assassinations and sacrifice are all things he's familiar with, even if he doesn't particularly like them. It's never been like this, on the sort of stage he's come to associate with peacetime and laughter, but that just leaves him more confused than alarmed or infuriated. Is this--should it be like this? Truly? Something doesn't feel right.
Yasusada doesn't know these people, doesn't know what they've done or who their enemies are; when it's the woman's turn, he jumps to his feet, too, but it's a reflexive response to the sound of arrows, an ingrained reaction to the potential threat of battle. He reaches for his blade, but of course, it isn't there--and he, too, briefly freezes.
It's Vax's voice that spurs him--that raw agony, the sort that Yasusada is painfully familiar with. A tone that's left his own throat more than once, even before he had a voice to scream with.
What does he do? What can they do?
Is there a threat, still? Will Vax get shot, too, if he stays up there?
That thought is enough to get him moving, leaving the aisle to try and run to where Vax is.]
[Atsushi doesn't yell. He doesn't scream. He doesn't do anything at all but stare, wide-eyed and trembling, as that man in a brown coat goes through the motions of stepping up to that noose and positioning it around his neck.
He's seen these kinds of actions dozens of times before. Throwing himself into a river only to be fished out later. Eating questionable foods and throwing them up later. Drinking glass after glass of alcohol while cheerfully talking about the harm it does to his liver. It's morbid, but it just...is. That's how it's always been.
Except this isn't the same as those actions. This isn't flirting with death and singing songs about how lovely it would be to die with a beautiful woman. This is raw, emotionless, and lacking in the usual mirth that shows that Dazai is just playing around, he's not being serious. (Or at least Atsushi assumes it's not serious, because of how much he jokes around.) This is different.]
Dazai-san...?
[His voice is barely above a whisper, and it comes moments before the floor drops from underneath the man on stage, leaving him to his fate.
In contrast to Vax's efforts, Atsushi doesn't scramble onto the stage. He sits there, eyes wide in horror, hands covering his mouth. He's not screaming anyway, but it's like he's trying to keep everything in and locked away tight.
It's not real. It can't be real. It has to be some ability, an illusion, some kind of trick-
Nothing covers up how badly Atsushi is shaking in his seat though. He's strung up tighter than a piano wire, and looks just about ready to snap.]
the third, a man with black hair, stands tall and unyielding. he is missing an arm, but that doesn't seem to bother him. he doesn't wait for the figure to push him forward. he moves, himself. slow, but steady. he awaits his act.
and it's short. brutal. the third act is always snappy, right? have to get to the end. what happens is he's standing, standing, silent, and then, there's the sound of metal on metal. terrible teeth grindingly awful. there's just tension, and then - the man is ripped in half, through the middle. from his belt drops a sword, right to the ground. it shatters, into a million pieces, the shrapnel flying out into the audience. the two halves of him drop to the stage, and there's silence. the floor gives way, the halves vanishing, but there's no sound of a body hitting the ground, this time. demanifested.
wait, but…
the fourth, and final act. a man of asian descent is thrown to his knees by a figure in black. he frowns, but he doesn't fight it. just slowly shifts forward on his knees, incapable of arguing. like he's being controlled. moved forward, without his consent. his eyes dart back and forth, frightened. he opens his mouth - but how does one speak with no tongue?
and it's not much a of a finale. it's more of a whimper, than a bang. time seems to freeze, on stage. the figures in black suits go still as statues, and the air itself feels still and stale. silence. and then, there’s the sound of a heartbeat abruptly stopping. but not just stopping - exploding, in his chest. there’s a sickening splat sound, as his chest caves in, and without any fanfare, he drops, facefirst into the wood below. you wait. you wait longer. the sound of the ocean, inexplicably, echoes through the hall, the tide rolling in and out. and then a rope slowly descends, looping around the disfigured body, and pulls him away, off stage.
oh.
you might have known before, but now, without a doubt, you know who these people are. dazai, vex'ahlia, nagasone, mark. you know them and they are gone, and what are you supposed to do now? why did you leave? this is what happens when you leave. your friends will die, your closest loved ones, the people you cherish - they'll die, brutally, unfairly, because of you. you will be alone. forever. it is your fault. you should've stayed.
[ the world has narrowed down to nothing. for vax'ildan, it's tunnel vision. he's still just staring, as the gore and violence continues - as the third man is torn asunder, as the fourth one's chest caves in.
yasusada's yell of his name sounds like it's coming from underwater.
vex'ahlia.
vex'ahlia.
vex'ahlia.
his breath is short and shallow. it's your fault. nothing had to say that, nothing has to influence vax to think it, because he's already thinking it. you couldn't save her. you did this, you did this, that should've been you.
vax grabs the knife from the room before. his hand wraps around the handle, trembling.
give her back. because he is fucking terrified that something could happen to vex because of him.
but he was afraid then, too. he was afraid when he held her body in that tomb. (when he looked away for just a second, and vex was gone, snuffed out like a light.) and it was fear that made him reckless. fear, and absolute, knife's edge courage.
(take me instead, you raven bitch)
and the minute vax is able to, he breaks free - leaping over the audience with a wordless shout and despair and fury as he rears back and throws the knife with more precision than he has any right to as fear is blinkered by fury and just bottomless, endless grief.
he'll take it out on every figure on this stage. tear them to pieces the way they tore her.
[ i'm glad we are all having solitary trauma breakdown experiences. this does not need to be a communal experience.
damien watches the rest of these deaths unfold, still frozen. all he does is make out a sort of choked sound at the back of his throat.
he understands the way that people move when they aren't in control of themselves. it's a little bit groggy, a little bit sleepy. they obey like it's subconscious, but it's not their subconscious.
but he doesn't want this. so why is it happening? this isn't how things are supposed to work.
"when I was resistant, she would tell me that if I didn’t exercise my power, it would rot me from the inside out."
is that what happened? but how can it be his fault? it can't be. it's not his fault, because he didn't want this. and if you don't want something, there's no follow-through.
if you don't want it bad enough, the control doesn't hold. ]
["i'm glad we are all having solitary trauma breakdown experiences" haha
Yeah! That's exactly what's about to happen, actually. Yasusada ran this way with the adrenaline of an impending battle, but all thoughts of Vax, of the safety of the others here, vanishes from his mind at the sight of Nagasone.]
Nagasone-san--!
[His voice tears out of him, raw and horrified--but there's nothing he can do. Nagasone breaks, and then he's gone, just like that.
You make that offer to many people?
The answer to that question doesn't come in words. It comes in the short, rasping breaths Yasusada's struggling to pull in. In the way his eyes haven't moved from the spot on the stage where Nagasone's broken pieces fell. In the way his whole body shakes, tears spilling from his eyes as he shakes his head, over and over.
He can't do this. He can't lose Nagasone--not the way he lost Kashuu. He can't go through this again.
No, no, no--
He watched Okita die already. Kondou. Hijikata. There's a permanent hole in his heart for them--but he'd thought it could get any wider. He'd thought the pain had faded into lingering melancholy. But now, it's like he's the one who's been broken, and the fear has an easy foothold into his heart.
Nagasone, their leader, their beloved captain's beloved sword--if he can fall, then couldn't anyone? Horikawa? Izuminokami? Kashuu? No--not again. He can't do that.
Yasusada is friendly enough, for a weapon. He'll hold out his hand to humans, to spirits, to monsters. But his focus is, ultimately, very narrow; his experiences have not changed that. Right now, his world is down to his family, and them alone.]
[Dazai's death was first, and that's thoroughly distracted Atsushi. He's only vaguely aware of the three deaths that follow. But even that vague awareness of the scenes before him and the screaming around him is enough to make him finally snap.
Luckily he's already holding onto Charles, because that's his emotional support cat. But Atsushi is a coward, unable to accept the deaths in front of him. So he's going to try to get up out of his seats and bolt from the room, running for the door they came in.
Maybe if they can get out, then all of this will just be a bad dream.]
[on the stage, vax makes his way through each of the figures. they don't fight back. they just watch, blankly, as he stabs and rips and shreds them apart. and once he has, they crumble to ash, dissolving into the wood floor beneath vax's feet.
bad, bad. this room is bad, it's hard to be in. it's hard to breathe. you are drowning. all of you are drowning.
you are panicked.
well, all of you but atsushi. he runs from the room, and charles the cat yowls for just a second, before trying to headbutt atsushi gently. the cat purrs, snuggling close, trying to get atsushi to pet him. it's okay, it's okay.
... but it hadn't worked last time and it won't work this time, for the same exact reason: when he gets to the last minute, he doesn't want it bad enough.
whatever or whoever is trying to drown him can't overpower something as strong as his own wants. and despite everything - drowning is scary. anyone would panic. anyone would want it to stop.
he stands up and a part of him says: go check on sherlock. that would be the right thing to do. or go check on excalibur. or go check on vax. just do fucking something for anyone. anything. anything.
but instead he panics, and he freezes, and he watches other people break down and still doesn't do anything about it. he never changes. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
saturations) wrote2022-02-21 11:38 am
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but it's an old feeling - and a fleeting one that slots into brief windows between not having anywhere to stay.
he is generally the kind of person who does whatever he wants at any given moment, but this is a specific want that he'll turn away from and head back out the door without waiting for the others. ]
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Whatever "it" is?? Yasusada isn't entirely sure he understands all that just transpired, but he knows what happiness feels like. That's a good sign.
Was that good, Okita-kun?
It looks like they're leaving--Yasusada crouches down to pick up his scarf, winding it back around his neck. He picks up the earring, too, and tucks it into his clothes; pompom now has one (1) earring and one (1) sketchbook. I forgot he had the sketchbook so it's just been on the counter somewhere I guess ANYWAY HE'S BRINGING THAT ALONG let's go]
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Atsushi will reach up to give Charles scritches as they leave. ...and if there's any fruit left he will eat some of it before he goes.
Two more doors to go!]
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when you exit to the hallway, it's a little brighter. there are less portraits on the wall. now, there are childish drawings in chalk all over. four stick figures, one red, two blues and one orange, all play together with a scribble of grey. it looks like someone maybe had fun some fun with their imagination.
two doors left! pick one?]
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aw. fondness flickers across vax's face at the chalk drawings, and he reaches up to gently brush his fingertips underneath the closest one, careful not to destroy the artwork.
damien's already taken off so he can be first this time, though vax is pretty much immediately behind him, hand at his belt. he's like slightly less tense than earlier, but also, sometimes you're just used to fighting all the time!! so here we go.
pick door mr "i walk away" he's aware of these habits ]
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he swings the door wide open and heads in. last time was just a fucking kitchen with an eldritch birthday baby, so, no fear? the closest thing he knows to happy is no fear. ]
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Anyway yams is here following I'm buying tortilla chips]
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But sure, after stopping to smile at the chalk drawings (and trying to figure out which one is which person), he'll follow into the door Damien went into.]
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it's a grand room, like the kind of place you'd go to see broadway. the walls are painted the same way, with splashes of color, swirling around aimlessly. big curtains hang on either side of the stage, pulled back so that you can enjoy the show.
this castle - it takes the shape of your deepest desires. it could be a place to call home. don't you want to stay here forever?
the carpet in front of you slopes downward, with one long aisle leading right up to the stage itself. on either side of the aisle are rows of seats, and some of them are filled. with what? you can't say. they just look like someone is sitting in them, heads turned at an angle that isn't quite possible. staring right at you.
the show is about to start, what are you doing? maybe go find your seats!]
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that didn't take long. immediately, vax is moving to stick to the shadows, protectively putting an arm out to keep the others (that he can, anyway, damien might be out of reach and also protect the genkis) to being stealthy just in case something immediately tries to leap out at them.
...and then nothing does.
well! vax has always said that he doesn't trust anyone that hates the theater (?) even if the uncanny feywild vibes here are terrible, and that shivery don't you want to stay here forever hasn't left, and there seems to not be much to do but move carefully towards the seats, i guess. ]
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he is going to just go find an empty seat.
like, fuck this, but also: could be worse? ]
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Yasusada looks like he's ready to head up onstage--but then the others are going towards the seats?? Okay. He will follow them instead]
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Atsushi will find an empty seat too! He has no idea what is going to happen but surely it's just a fun play right?]
cw: suicide
regardless of where you are, the show begins.
you don't recognize the people being shuffled on stage. but they don't seem like they want to be here - they're pushed and shoved and halfway dragged to their marks by figures in black bodysuits, arranged as necessary. like puppets, almost.
the first, a man with wavy brown hair and a long brown coat, blearily looks up from where he's been positioned. his right arm hangs loosely by his side, and blood leaks slowly out from under the patch over his right eye. for a moment, he just stands and stares into the distance, and then the figure in the black bodysuit jostles him. he winces, and takes a deep breath.
and steps forward. the second he does, there's the sound of barking dogs in the distance. he stares out over the hall, not making eye contact with anybody, and then snaps his fingers. a noose falls from the ceiling, right in front of him. he steps up to it, and hooks it around his neck. and as he does - the floor falls out from underneath him. there's a sharp crack, as his neck breaks. he's still alive, though, you can see his eyes move. and then - the lights flicker. in the span of the dark, his body falls through the hole in the floor, and there's a sickening crunch. the sound of dogs, snarling and yelping as they fight each other for food.
this is…
the second, a young woman with long dark brown hair, is pushed forward. she instinctively kicks at the figure pushing her forward, but doesn't connect. her hair comes undone from the braid it's in, and as she turns her head, you can see the pointed ears. she spits blood, and wipes it from her mouth with fingerless hands, shaking. she is less eager to follow the first act, but she has to. she doesn't have a choice.
so she steps forward, and stares out defiantly into the dark. and as she does, a thousand arrows fly through the air and pierce her body. thud, thudthudthudthud - they hit every part of her, head to toe. some go through her entirely, leaving holes and bursts of blood. one of them hits her in the throat, so she can't even scream. and then, as she drops to her knees, eyes wide and shocked, she starts to disintegrate. slowly, agonizingly. it looks like she's in horrible, awful pain, writhing, gurgling... until she's gone.
who…
you cannot get on the stage. you can only watch. but why would you want to do anything? you don't know who these people are.
do you?]
no subject
[ and then the woman steps forward next.
and it's.
it's strange. vax'ildan is no stranger to torture or violence or suffering. he's seen it all, experienced it all himself, even, but this feels impossible to watch. this - just seeing this woman sends a bolt of lightning that roots him to the spot, and makes his heart wrench in his chest. for a moment he's just stuck there like he's frozen in time, breath caught, silenced.
and for a brief moment, he doesn't recognize this person. does he?
does he?
he's looking at pointed ears. he's looking at a face that looks just like his own.
the first arrow hits and vax makes a choked off noise before he even realizes it. then the second the third the fourth the fifth and they keep coming and coming and
the name rips out of his throat before he even realizes, the scream of a wounded animal more so than a person, of a name, a person, vax could never forget - ]
VEX'AHLIA!
[ no.
no, no no no no no no no.
by the time the arrows stop, vax has leapt over the seat in front of him and tries to move further, but he can't. he slams his hands up against whatever's in the way, against the people in this fake audience, and it doesn't matter that it might be an illusion because vax'ildan knows her, and that's vex, and every other sight in this room narrows down as he watches his sister, his other half, his heart,
fade powerless and gurgling into dust, into nothing, his eyes locked with hers until she's gone
and vax is just standing here. useless. powerless, shaking with rage and despair and fury and agony all at once.
no raven queen to do anything, now. ]
no subject
whether it's an act or not is kind of unclear to him. reality can be a hard thing to figure out sometimes. especially in a place like this. but even if it was real he feels too frozen to move. his hands are on his knees, clammy.
and he just watches vax lose it, because. well. what else is he supposed to do? what else does he ever do but watch other people's breakdowns? ]
no subject
Death is all he's ever known, after all. It's what he's made for, in the most literal sense--and unlike the older swords, or the treasured keepsakes, Yasusada has only ever known war. War, sickness, isolation, and more war.
On occasion, he knows, death can be made performative--assassinations and sacrifice are all things he's familiar with, even if he doesn't particularly like them. It's never been like this, on the sort of stage he's come to associate with peacetime and laughter, but that just leaves him more confused than alarmed or infuriated. Is this--should it be like this? Truly? Something doesn't feel right.
Yasusada doesn't know these people, doesn't know what they've done or who their enemies are; when it's the woman's turn, he jumps to his feet, too, but it's a reflexive response to the sound of arrows, an ingrained reaction to the potential threat of battle. He reaches for his blade, but of course, it isn't there--and he, too, briefly freezes.
It's Vax's voice that spurs him--that raw agony, the sort that Yasusada is painfully familiar with. A tone that's left his own throat more than once, even before he had a voice to scream with.
What does he do? What can they do?
Is there a threat, still? Will Vax get shot, too, if he stays up there?
That thought is enough to get him moving, leaving the aisle to try and run to where Vax is.]
Vax!
cw: suicide, vomit
He's seen these kinds of actions dozens of times before. Throwing himself into a river only to be fished out later. Eating questionable foods and throwing them up later. Drinking glass after glass of alcohol while cheerfully talking about the harm it does to his liver. It's morbid, but it just...is. That's how it's always been.
Except this isn't the same as those actions. This isn't flirting with death and singing songs about how lovely it would be to die with a beautiful woman. This is raw, emotionless, and lacking in the usual mirth that shows that Dazai is just playing around, he's not being serious. (Or at least Atsushi assumes it's not serious, because of how much he jokes around.) This is different.]
Dazai-san...?
[His voice is barely above a whisper, and it comes moments before the floor drops from underneath the man on stage, leaving him to his fate.
In contrast to Vax's efforts, Atsushi doesn't scramble onto the stage. He sits there, eyes wide in horror, hands covering his mouth. He's not screaming anyway, but it's like he's trying to keep everything in and locked away tight.
It's not real. It can't be real. It has to be some ability, an illusion, some kind of trick-
Nothing covers up how badly Atsushi is shaking in his seat though. He's strung up tighter than a piano wire, and looks just about ready to snap.]
no subject
the third, a man with black hair, stands tall and unyielding. he is missing an arm, but that doesn't seem to bother him. he doesn't wait for the figure to push him forward. he moves, himself. slow, but steady. he awaits his act.
and it's short. brutal. the third act is always snappy, right? have to get to the end. what happens is he's standing, standing, silent, and then, there's the sound of metal on metal. terrible teeth grindingly awful. there's just tension, and then - the man is ripped in half, through the middle. from his belt drops a sword, right to the ground. it shatters, into a million pieces, the shrapnel flying out into the audience. the two halves of him drop to the stage, and there's silence. the floor gives way, the halves vanishing, but there's no sound of a body hitting the ground, this time. demanifested.
wait, but…
the fourth, and final act. a man of asian descent is thrown to his knees by a figure in black. he frowns, but he doesn't fight it. just slowly shifts forward on his knees, incapable of arguing. like he's being controlled. moved forward, without his consent. his eyes dart back and forth, frightened. he opens his mouth - but how does one speak with no tongue?
and it's not much a of a finale. it's more of a whimper, than a bang. time seems to freeze, on stage. the figures in black suits go still as statues, and the air itself feels still and stale. silence. and then, there’s the sound of a heartbeat abruptly stopping. but not just stopping - exploding, in his chest. there’s a sickening splat sound, as his chest caves in, and without any fanfare, he drops, facefirst into the wood below. you wait. you wait longer. the sound of the ocean, inexplicably, echoes through the hall, the tide rolling in and out. and then a rope slowly descends, looping around the disfigured body, and pulls him away, off stage.
oh.
you might have known before, but now, without a doubt, you know who these people are. dazai, vex'ahlia, nagasone, mark. you know them and they are gone, and what are you supposed to do now? why did you leave? this is what happens when you leave. your friends will die, your closest loved ones, the people you cherish - they'll die, brutally, unfairly, because of you. you will be alone. forever. it is your fault. you should've stayed.
you are now afraid.
what do you do?]
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yasusada's yell of his name sounds like it's coming from underwater.
vex'ahlia.
vex'ahlia.
vex'ahlia.
his breath is short and shallow. it's your fault. nothing had to say that, nothing has to influence vax to think it, because he's already thinking it. you couldn't save her. you did this, you did this, that should've been you.
vax grabs the knife from the room before. his hand wraps around the handle, trembling.
give her back. because he is fucking terrified that something could happen to vex because of him.
but he was afraid then, too. he was afraid when he held her body in that tomb. (when he looked away for just a second, and vex was gone, snuffed out like a light.) and it was fear that made him reckless. fear, and absolute, knife's edge courage.
(take me instead, you raven bitch)
and the minute vax is able to, he breaks free - leaping over the audience with a wordless shout and despair and fury as he rears back and throws the knife with more precision than he has any right to as fear is blinkered by fury and just bottomless, endless grief.
he'll take it out on every figure on this stage. tear them to pieces the way they tore her.
so what if they kill him next?
is there even a point to living, if she's gone? ]
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damien watches the rest of these deaths unfold, still frozen. all he does is make out a sort of choked sound at the back of his throat.
he understands the way that people move when they aren't in control of themselves. it's a little bit groggy, a little bit sleepy. they obey like it's subconscious, but it's not their subconscious.
but he doesn't want this. so why is it happening? this isn't how things are supposed to work.
"when I was resistant, she would tell me that if I didn’t exercise my power, it would rot me from the inside out."
is that what happened? but how can it be his fault? it can't be. it's not his fault, because he didn't want this. and if you don't want something, there's no follow-through.
if you don't want it bad enough, the control doesn't hold. ]
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Yeah! That's exactly what's about to happen, actually. Yasusada ran this way with the adrenaline of an impending battle, but all thoughts of Vax, of the safety of the others here, vanishes from his mind at the sight of Nagasone.]
Nagasone-san--!
[His voice tears out of him, raw and horrified--but there's nothing he can do. Nagasone breaks, and then he's gone, just like that.
You make that offer to many people?
The answer to that question doesn't come in words. It comes in the short, rasping breaths Yasusada's struggling to pull in. In the way his eyes haven't moved from the spot on the stage where Nagasone's broken pieces fell. In the way his whole body shakes, tears spilling from his eyes as he shakes his head, over and over.
He can't do this. He can't lose Nagasone--not the way he lost Kashuu. He can't go through this again.
No, no, no--
He watched Okita die already. Kondou. Hijikata. There's a permanent hole in his heart for them--but he'd thought it could get any wider. He'd thought the pain had faded into lingering melancholy. But now, it's like he's the one who's been broken, and the fear has an easy foothold into his heart.
Nagasone, their leader, their beloved captain's beloved sword--if he can fall, then couldn't anyone? Horikawa? Izuminokami? Kashuu? No--not again. He can't do that.
Yasusada is friendly enough, for a weapon. He'll hold out his hand to humans, to spirits, to monsters. But his focus is, ultimately, very narrow; his experiences have not changed that. Right now, his world is down to his family, and them alone.]
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Luckily he's already holding onto Charles, because that's his emotional support cat. But Atsushi is a coward, unable to accept the deaths in front of him. So he's going to try to get up out of his seats and bolt from the room, running for the door they came in.
Maybe if they can get out, then all of this will just be a bad dream.]
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bad, bad. this room is bad, it's hard to be in. it's hard to breathe. you are drowning. all of you are drowning.
you are panicked.
well, all of you but atsushi. he runs from the room, and charles the cat yowls for just a second, before trying to headbutt atsushi gently. the cat purrs, snuggling close, trying to get atsushi to pet him. it's okay, it's okay.
atsushi - you are not panicked, but you are sad.]
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... but it hadn't worked last time and it won't work this time, for the same exact reason: when he gets to the last minute, he doesn't want it bad enough.
whatever or whoever is trying to drown him can't overpower something as strong as his own wants. and despite everything - drowning is scary. anyone would panic. anyone would want it to stop.
he stands up and a part of him says: go check on sherlock. that would be the right thing to do. or go check on excalibur. or go check on vax. just do fucking something for anyone. anything. anything.
but instead he panics, and he freezes, and he watches other people break down and still doesn't do anything about it. he never changes. ]
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cw: past child abuse
Re: cw: past child abuse
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