( open ) ❀ 001

[cranekin]

WHO: (cranekin) & you
WHAT: dramatically dying from brain freeze and some closed prompts
WHERE: ice cream parlor & misc.
WHEN: August
WARNINGS: self-harm, violence, csm spoilers (relevant threads labeled)

Comments

( open ) ice cream shenanigans

[cranekin]

(If you ever asked him what his favorite food was, he'd answer with something vague like "whatever is good with tea" or "something sweet." He likes to keep people guessing. It's more exciting that way. But it's no secret that he enjoys sweets. He'll admit that much. So it's natural he would find his way to the ice cream parlor and want to give some of the flavors a try.

It's in the middle of eating an ice cream cone that he suddenly drops down onto his knees, holds his head, and lets out a dramatic wail. The next thing you know, you can find him on the floor, in tears,)

This is it... I'm dying.

(Sniffle...)

I'm sorry, master. I didn't want to surprise you like this...

(The ice cream on the floor next to him will probably clue you in whether you were watching the whole thing or just walked in. It's brain freeze. He's just experiencing really bad brain freeze.)

[justscribing]

[Alhaitham's at a table close to the jukebox, where he's been hanging out for some time jotting various notes on the machine and the music it produces. It's some of the most tangible culture he's been able to find, so of course he needs to tear it apart for a little more understanding of this place.

Of course, Tsurumaru knows how to grab attention. He looks up and watches him out the side of his eye as he collapses to the cold tile ground.]

You'll just come back to life if you die.

[cranekin]

(DEATH WAILING...)

It's cold! It's so cold...

(Because it's not death. It's ice cream. Also the ground is just cool. When he tries to roll over to die some of his robe sticks to the tile,)

This is it. The familiar embrace of death.

[horrifictie]

[ PERCEPTION - From a short distance away, the sound of a person wailing in pain and agony flows through your ear canal. A cry for help.
EMPATHY - You can't *not* go toward it. It's not in you to ignore someone in need.

It isn't too long before Harry is on the scene, going right toward Tsuru. He remembers him from the bowling alley! Oh no... ]

Hang on, I'm here. [ He kneels down to Tsuru's level and tries to examine him for wounds. Nothing spotted. ] What happened?

[cranekin]

(POINTING DRAMATICALLY AT THE ICE CREAM CONE THAT IS PROBABLY ALSO ON THE FLOOR,)

I've been poisoned!

(This all happened after he ate the ice cream.)

It's too late. It's over for me!

[cleansewithfire]

[ Sunrise has returned for the ice cream, mainly to try out other flavours after the initial disappointment of strawberry ice cream that didn't have actual strawberries in it. And that's when she happens upon this man on the floor, wailing and...

...Dying? She's not actually sure if he is, but he does seem to be in pain. So she kneels down next to him. ]

What happened?

[ It would not have occurred to her that ice cream can cause brain freeze, since it's impossible for her to experience it,,, ]

[cranekin]

(He WAILS,)

I've been poisoned.

(And he brings a hand to his forehead, trying to stop the SHARP PAIN IN HIS HEAD,)

And now I'll die.

[xiaoxiuya]

[oh FFS]

[After confirming that it's not the flavor that causes tears -- unless there are two of them, oh god no, Shen Yuan kneels next to the young man and briskly shakes his shoulder.]

Is it the cold? Try rubbing the roof of your mouth with your tongue, it'll help.

[cranekin]

(He lets himself be shaken. His body is limp and he is just waiting for the cold dark familiar embrace of death to take him back.)

It's so cold!

(And he brings a hand to his forehead, striking a dramatic pose.)

Ah! How nostalgic. I remember this! (It's not his first time death's cold grip,) Let it be quick this time.

(He has no idea what his tongue has to do with any of this so he is just ??? Not comprehending???)

[laidtocrest]

[Now, Sylvain had walked into the ice cream parlor, tried a few flavors, felt the call of nature, and had gone into the bathroom to take care of that. No details necessary for what happened in there. He took care of business, humming a song as he did so, washed his hands, opened the door, and then there's a fucking guy on the floor blocking his way to the door.

First reaction:]

Are you-

[dead? but no, second reaction: he sees the ice cream and also, if the guy's a corpse he wouldn't be talking, right? So Sylvain does the sensible thing, which is to try to edge around the guy towards the door - difficult, because he's right there - while talking to the guy. A balance of flight and not being a dick. If the guy is seriously hurt, he can help; if the guy is crazy, he can run.

A win all around.]

Uh. You okay?

[cranekin]

(He sure is blocking the way. He's all a bundle of robes and long leg. He probably takes up a lot more space than he really should be.

Dramatically, in tears, he wails,)

Poison!

(And he tosses, turning over onto his side and holding his head,)

I was caught by surprise!

[hardestbattle]

[This is terribly silly, she decided. Her eyes watched the form on the floor, licking her own ice cream, confused at the reaction. Just... just what was happening here?

One moment things were peaceful. She was getting her... she didn't know what bowl number she was on by now. But it was a lot! Then, the next, this weirdo, the one from the network with the stories, was shrieking, clutching his head, and now on the ground. Being all dramatic-like.]

Well surprise you did.

[She crouches down next to him, eating her ice cream, her blue-painted face mirroring her confusion, mixed with just a tad bit of worry.]

What's the matter?

[cranekin]

I didn't want to surprise them this way...!

(How unfortunate. How miserable. He's truly let his dear, precious master down.)

I feel cold. (Like death. (No).) Everything is going dark.

(His eye are closed.)

i'm so late to this forgive meee

[blackwaterchild]

[Clearly this deserve all the sympathy Miu is able to muster!

She nudges Tsuru with her shoe]

When you die, can I have your stuff?

OPENS MY ARMS

[cranekin]

(HE SUDDENLY SITS UP.......)

No way.

(Wasn't he just dying a moment ago. He seems fine now.)

crawls back from my hiatus

[stubboarn]

... Huh.

[ huh! you look very much alive. that seems to be the problem with that statement, which means - ]

Do you need help actually finishing the job then? I'm afraid I can't help you, if that's the case.

But there are a few people around who are quite enthusiastic on the murder front. So I would caution you about what you ask for.

( closed ) for nansen

[cranekin]

(Lacquer shoes clack on the tile floors, the chains on his robes clink gently, and Tsurumaru smiles when he stops in front of the fountain and just listens to his surroundings. He isn't alone in the mall. He can hear others running around, calling out, going through the stores, searching... but he's listening for something in particular.

(He's never too far away. Even when he runs away and hides, Tsurumaru can always feel him watching...)

And there it is, a familiar sensation and he turns around to see Ookurikara observing him from the next floor up.)

Yo, Kara-bou! (He raises his hand and waves in greeting. He smiles brightly but there's a sharpness in his eye when he calls out,) How did you get up there? Wait for me, wait for me!

(And he starts to make his way towards the escalators only for the figure to turn on his heel and run away. Tsurumaru stops as he watches him flee, eyes narrowing, smiling more to himself now than anything as he studies the figure's back.

(Ookurikara would never run from him. So who is this wearing Ookurikara's face?)

Before he can continue, something else catches his attention though and he looks away from the apparition. There's another familiar face and unlike the imposter he's been chasing, Tsurumaru knows Nansen Ichimonji is real. )

[nyanxiety]

Geezer!! Geezer!!

[The desperate screams echo down the hallways ahead of Nansen as he darts through the halls of the lower deck of the mall, an outstretched hand grasping desperately but far short for the figment that, sword drawn, was lurching for him.]

Stop it, Geezer! Didn't we put you to rest already!? [Nansen's nimble, cat-like reflexes keep him at bay, just barely making it over a potted plant that's smashed in two by a strike of the man's sword. Elderly and statesmanlike, with a topknot and Bakufu fashion, Ii Naosuke moves not like a human in their right mind, but more like one of the shambling HRA swords they're used to breaking on missions. In that moment, he'd been able to overcome it, and draw his sword.]

[But here, without their bodies, they're powerless. Without intervention, it seems Nansen may fall prey to his own memories.]

(event) warning: chainsaw man spoilers

[nutkick]

[ oh— it’s just a mannequin.

denji stares down at the object, breath heavy and shaky, with tears streaming down his cheeks—the adrenaline hasn’t left his body yet, tense and somewhat still stuck in that chilling illusion he experienced a second ago. it started as a glimpse from the corner of his eye; a shadowy figure coming into view and slowly shaping into something more definitive and hard to dismiss for his mind playing tricks. it looked so real, down to the texture of its skin— it was aki standing in front of him. why is he running away from him now? the bigger question is: why is he chasing after him? this is not real. it can’t be real. someone is fucking with him and he knows it, but he can’t stop himself. what if— what if he’s real?! maybe by some miracle this dumb city can rise up the dead from their graves and be good for something. maybe if he catches him, then denji can know for sure. maybe if he ran faster, if he tried harder …

and when he finally caught up to ‘him’ — that’s when everything escalated. denji found himself pulled back to that poignant day. he can sense the gunpowder in the air, the hot fumes against his flesh, hear his chainsaws revving, power yelling in the back ... and then it just fell into a silence where he is begging aki to stop. it all ends with him feeling the warmth of his friend’s body against his own, blood painting his vision in red, and then he’s back in the mall embracing the mannequin instead of aki's lifeless body.

where to go from here, honestly? ]

1/2

[cranekin]

(It catches him off guard. One minute he's chasing after a figure wearing the face of a friend, curious to find out what's going on, and what will happen if he catches it. The next, he feels transported to somewhere else and he finds himself coming to a complete and total stop, stumbling in place and bracing himself as images flash in front of him.

A modern city, the familiar scent of gunpowder, a heat that feels uncomfortable on his skin, and a foreign, roaring sound that he can't identify. Someone is yelling and everything feels so loud in the way all battles are but this one is jarring, so incredibly new and unfamiliar to him, he feels like his senses are being overwhelmed. What is he looking at? He's never seen beings like this before. And then it stops and he feels-- )

[cranekin]

(Left to silently process everything he'd seen. Ookurikara is no where to be seen. He's lost him again. What he sees instead are two bodies in a nearby store and as driven as he'd been just a moment before to catch his own prey, he breaks course, turning to investigate.

Even if he doesn't understand what he'd seen, he recognizes the lingering feeling. Heavy, burdened, overwhelming, and aching. The closer he gets, the more he understands what he's seeing. It isn't two people but rather, just one. He recognizes the boy under the mannequin and calmly, he reaches around the mannequin to place a hand on Denji's arm to get his attention.

Gently,)

Let go.

(He places his other hand on the mannequin and gently pulls at it so he can get a better look at Denji. He can only assume what he'd seen was shared with him if not by him,)

It's over.

( closed ) for seimei

[cranekin]

(Even with his senses dulled, he knows he's entered a bad place. The air feels unnaturally still and quiet and it makes him feel on edge. Though he keeps his composure, he stands a little more alert and he pays more attention to every movement he can catch.

He's never been in a place like this before so when he walks slowly but with purpose. He listens to the way the lacquer of his slippers echoes. He studies the mannequins in the darkened windows. At the center of the atrium, in front of empty fountain, he stops and looks at the darkness around him.

The little bit of natural light from above is all that illuminates the center floor. And dressed in an old kimono, an expensive-looking robe, and just white from head to toe, he definitely looks like an old ghost out of place in the mall. He has an unnatural sort of grace and beauty to him that definitely doesn't feel human and anyone sensitive to the supernatural would be able to sense... this is definitely a spirit.

Likewise, he senses something nearby. Something a little more familiar. Like home. And he tries to focus to see if he can figure out exactly where and what it is... )

[emyoji]

[ He senses the shift in the mall, but Abe no Seimei spends so much of his time exploring cursed or sacred spaces that the heavy weight of negative energy isn't that unusual to him. It's a sign of something, yes, but any concentration of power comes from something, and both an angry entity and a benevolent one carry equal influence. So naturally he walks right in, and by the time everything starts manifesting, it's too late for second guesses.

Pure chance brings him into Tsuru's range, and when Seimei catches sight of the sword spirit, only now able to see the unnatural light that glows around him. He strides up, still in out of place modern clothing, and breaks the theme with a warm whisper. ]

Ah, you're here too? Shouldn't you be careful? There are dangerous things in this place.

( closed ) for rokurou

[cranekin]

(The vibes are bad but when he feels a sudden spike nearby, he turns his attention in the new direction. If he can sense it now... then he thinks it must be stronger than what he's feeling. Ah, it's times like this he really wishes he had a sword but when have his wishes ever come true?

The least he can do is investigate and see what he can do so carefully, he heads in the direction of the potential threat. Along the way, he stays quiet and keeps note of his surroundings as he passes. If he has to fight (or flee), it's best to know what he's working with. )

cw: blood, self-harm, violence…

[swordhardy]

[ It had started with a flicker.

Out of the corner of his eye—an edge of clothing around a corner. A trail of hair. Fleeting images like a mirage, gone so quickly that Rokurou had initially written it off. The sensation of wrongness had been a constant prickle across his skin ever since the lights went off, provoking his Yaksha nature. Anything and everything was enough to draw his attention when so wound up.

Frustration had stacked the longer he lacked a cause. Initially calm regardless of the fine hairs along his arms standing in warning, that calm had broken the moment he properly spotted a familiar silhouette heading off into the dark.

A figure he would never mistake.

So he had chased. Always, always, always chasing that man—yet the gap between them hadn’t closed. The longer the chase the more intense his anger, and when the figure vanishes again, the daemon had curses and bites the inside of his mouth hard enough to draw blood. A bead drips from the corner of his mouth, dull red.

Standing against the wall, he slams his forehead and fists into concrete. Breathing heavily and gaze clouded, his red eye is blazing in warning.

He’s here. Of course he’s here, and he’s fucking with me. Has he been here the whole time? Has he always been watching? Laughing? Finding it hilarious that his little brother is so weak that he couldn’t pick up a single trace of him?

Irrational thoughts wash over the daemon and usual calm ends up buried in the wake of frenzy. His fist hits the wall again, scraping hard, drawing red lines across white knuckles. Brow knit, Rokurou pants harder, the irritation stirring beneath his chest far more intolerable than the blood he’s drawn.

He wants to kill him. He really wants to kill him. Everything else but that thought is muddled, but he’s trying to ground himself with physical pain.

It isn’t working.

This is more or less what Tsuru will find as he approaches that bad feeling. If there’s so much as a single footstep behind him, Rokurou will turn to look with a disoriented gaze to give him a better idea of what he’s working with: a man dressed in traditional samurai garb looking as though he may cry, the expression on his face aggrieved. ]