[open] there is no escaping your fate, is there?

[faststance]

WHO: Marcoh (faststance) & YOU!
WHAT: August Event.
WHERE: The mall.
WHEN: August.
WARNINGS: Usual warnings for Fear&Hunger. Here is his permissions. I'll label anything that might come up, as well. For now, it's graphic violence.

Comments

i. breaking a door down (unfortunately, the door's too strong) | open

[faststance]

[ For the last few minutes, there has been a loud consistent banging sound against the doors that locked everyone inside. Going to investigate, Marcoh is beating his fist against the surface - trying to make a dent, trying to break the door open by sheer force.

However, it's to no avail.

His hands, however, are starting to look worse for wear from his repeated attempts. The knuckles are bloodied and the hands are stained red. Yet he still has a determined look in his eye as he keeps slamming his fist into the surface. ]

This time... this time...

[fanstheflames]

Whoa! Whoa, whoa!!

[ She has no idea who this man is, but watching him punch a door and watching the door continue to win is kind of painful to witness and as he draws his fist back again, Tsuruno does the wise and mature thing of.

Trying to throw herself in between his fist and the door.

Yes. This is wise. ]

Just hold on a second!!

[faststance]

Ah!

[ He is just able to stop the forward movement so he doesn't end up punching some girl in the face. His whole body can't stop shaking as the shock and fear of possibly hurting someone speeds through his system. ]

What do you think you're doing? Don't you realize you could have gotten hurt?!

[ Breathing heavily, he can't help but voice his concerns about that action! Of course, he still can't stop himself from shaking. That was scary! ]

[fanstheflames]

It's fine, I've had worse!

[ Said completely truthfully and completely quickly, it's fine, don't think too hard about it, she just would not hold any grudges if this adult man punched her in the face-- ]

And you're the one who's hurt here!

[faststance]

What?

[ That is not at all reassuring! He doesn't like that answer at all, actually! 0/10 stars! ]

I'm fine. [ He shakes his hands, trying to get the trembling to stop. ] What do you mean you've had worse? Have you had worse here? [ 'Cause some people are gonna get a talking to if that's the case. ]

[fanstheflames]

Oh, no! I've been okay here!

[ Thankfully. And she even waves her hands in front of her to reassure him just how okay she's been, apparently. ]

... Also, you're bleeding.

[faststance]

Good.

[ Very good.

If it wasn't the case, someone was going to meet the same treatment as he was giving the door. Maybe. Uh, probably not. Murder is bad - and well, a young girl shouldn't see a dead body.

He stares ahead as he thinks that he really let his thoughts get ahead of him, before shaking his head. ]

I'll be okay. It's just a little blood.

[ Marcoh reaches his hand out before pulling his hand back. He was going to pat her on the head to reassure her, but um, that wouldn't be very reassuring. So he gestures in what he hopes is a friendly way in the air in front of her. ]

[cranekin]

(The mall is quiet, every sound seems to stand out. He follows the constant bang, bang, bang that he keeps hearing and finds a man punching the door?

Well. This is different.

He watches for a moment to see if there's some sort of immediate reason to really be doing it. No... the doors still look the same from when he first came through them and judging by the red on the man's hands, he's been going at it for some time.)

This time, this time! (Yes, definitely this time. He sounds supportive until his tone drops some,) And what if it isn't?

[faststance]

[ Marcoh lets out some loud sound -- more like a cry -- in an attempt to give his punch more oomph as it were. But the noise becomes something like a startled ah as he didn't notice the person coming up behind him.

His body feels heavy, sweaty; his hands are red. Shifting around, he looked at him. Huh? ]

Then... the next one will do it. [ Right. He just has to keep at it, right? ]

[cranekin]

Ah, sorry, sorry.

(He raises a hand in front of him, as if pleading for forgiveness even if he doesn't seem too sorry. He wasn't trying to scare him!)

Let's see you do it the next time.

(He isn't the type to get people to stop doing things if they don't want to. It's better to let them try and learn their limits on their own. More effective even if it takes longer.)

Surprise me.

[faststance]

Um...

[ For some reason, he feels embarrassed. He isn't quite sure why, but he does. Is he doing something stupid? He doesn't think so. But somehow, he feels like maybe he is.

Indecision hits him, but at least, his resting expression is one that looks mad. ]

Well, stand back.

[ It is what he finally decides on before he adjusts his stance. Breathing out, he gives two good punches to the door. Bam-bam! After the first fist hits, he slams down his second close to where he just struck. But it just makes a loud noise.

His hands return to shaking. Less from being afraid and more due to exhaustion setting in. ]

...

[ Didn't he say if the next time didn't work -- then the next time might? Breathing heavy, he draws his fist back to strike the door again. It's less of a practiced, careful blow but more beating his closed fist against the surface. Out-- let everyone out!

His head drops, sweat running down. ]

...

[ And he pulls his fist back. Again. ]

[cranekin]

...

(He watches. Bam-bam, go his fists into the door and as before, nothing changes. The doors remain closed, still on their hinges, blood specked where the fists had made contact before.

He's more interested in the fists, though. Even in the poor lighting, he can tell the man's hands are a mess. He doesn't seem to be doing much better either. He notes the way his hands seem to tremble. Did he imagine that? He wouldn't be surprised if he saw it correctly.

And he watches again as he studies his work. Surely, he must realize this isn't working. Is he stubborn or foolish? He wonders if he'll give up now but instead, he seems to wind up for another strike. Calmly,)

Let's see it. (He will not stop him. ) The final blow.

[faststance]

[ Thud.

The final blow is not so much his fist hitting the door but him throwing his whole body into it. It's smearing some of the red on his clothes as he collapses down on the ground. He continues to breathe heavy but lifts his hand up to give another (though, extremely weakened) strike against the surface.

Nothing. ]

... I'll just rest and try again. [ His curly hair is hanging low and he's sweatier than he would like, but he'll just rest and try again. It's not the final blow yet, right? Right? This is just round -- ah, he lost count. ]

[fussiest]

[ the thumping had been like the thrum of a vacant heartbeat. kaveh had followed it to its source, and his own heart had lodged in his throat at the sight of it - bleeding fists, bloodied hands.

this isn't right, he thinks, as he paces forward, his hands already sifting through his little totebag at a clip. ]

Ah - please, stop! It won't open that way anymore!

[faststance]

Huh?

[ He does stop, shifting to look over his shoulder. ]

You mean it opens the other way?

[ Like it's more of a pull instead of a push? So his hitting it this way isn't doing anything since it swings the other way? ]

... that's troublesome.

ii. just a little hobby | open

[faststance]

[ When it seems like he's well and truly locked in the mall, he decides to survey the area. There's a pressing feeling like something is in the dark. Maybe, that is just his paranoia given his time in Prehevil. But it is still hard to shake.

Still, he can occupy his thoughts with other things. Other things are going through a hobby store and taking as many x-acto knives, needles, and thread as he can from it. While not an endless amount of items, it still is enough that he feels like the clinic will be all right for a while.

He also tries to grab pieces of cloth that he finds that look particularly clean. These things have been life savers back when he was bleeding out. Indeed, he'll be found getting quite a bit of items out of the store and looking around nervously every so often, as he does so.

The dark and quiet gives him the creeps. ]

iii. hard to run from the past [ cw: violence | minor f&h spoilers ] | open

[faststance]

[ You fucking piece of shit!

Marcoh jerks back around as soon as he hears the familiar voice. The white suit stands out in the dark - as does the metal pipe in the man's hand. He feels a cold sweat run down the back of his neck but squares his shoulders instead of running. ]

So, you're here, too, Caligura.

[ Here we are again. Planning on killing everyone here? A sneer dances over the man's face. ]

No. Why's that the first thing you think of?! I told you before--

[ The metal pipe swings through the air, cutting off his words. Caligura just looks irritated. You think I'd believe that?! Do you know how many people you've killed? You think anyone is going to be reassured by your bullshit!? ]

I'm not doing this.

[ The cold sweat hasn't gone away. But he's different. Things are different here. People are punished if they kill. He doesn't have to hurt anyone. He doesn't want to hurt anyone. He holds his hands up but the metal pipe is being swung again and meant to collide with the side of his unprotected head. ]

idk sometime after they were hanging out together in the mall

[limbical]

[Claws don't quite sink into his throat or head, just prickling a little bit. Too sweet whispers and empty promises, and at the end of the day, you know who hasn't left you? Me, old chum! A jovial chuckle, glowing yellow eyes, and the feeling of filth over his body.

Around the corner, he hears the familiar voices and Daan jerks away from the wicked cat's grip, finding himself sinking back into reality. Marcoh. Marcoh and... Caligura? When the hell did he show up? That's not exactly a subtle man, after all. He thinks someone might have mentioned someone like that, but maybe it was just a recent thing?

Daan rubs his eye and looks around the corner. There's the sudden feeling that if he had to, he would absolutely kill Caligura. Punishment be damned, but he would hate it more if Marcoh was hurt by this thug. It's kind of a wild thought to realize even outside of Prehevil, he might be comfortable with murdering a non-moonscorched man for Marcoh, but he's going to worry about examining that another time. It does also occur to him based on this interaction, the two recognize each other. More than just Prehevil. Did they know each other before then?

Not that Daan has room to judge someone for that. For anything. Most importantly, he can't let Caligura get in a good strike.

So, before the pipe comes down on Marcoh's skull, Daan is darting out and he's already reaching for Caligura's throat, gripping and pinching a nerve with all of the strength he has left in his body.

Daan sneers out:]

How terribly ungentlemanly of you. I have half a mind to just slit your throat, you know. But that'd ruin a perfectly good blade.

nice time hanging out in the mall and then horrible memories 1/2

[faststance]

[ He feels the air shift more than anything - his breath catches in his throat. The idea that he's going to die flashes through his head before the blow doesn't come. Stupid. I shouldn't have turned my back on him. Just because Caligura and he had an understanding earlier didn't mean that'd remain that way going forward. ]

Daan.

[ Caligura seems to have stopped. The man did have a pretty good sense of self-preservation. He rubs his thumb along the inside of his palm; feeling the sweat on the skin. There is a moment of shame that he feels boiling up. He wonders what Daan might have heard and feels a need to apologize. Though, he isn't sure what he'd be saying sorry for -- maybe sorry for keeping secret his connection with Caligura. ]

Glad you're being reasonable now. We don't need to do any of this. Didn't I say that?!

[ He can't let Daan do everything. He's already stepping forward to reach out to grab onto the front of the man's suit -- to shake him, to get him to not do any of this nonsense anymore! There are punishments! But more than that: ] We're just people trying to survive! Why do you keep--!

HEY SOME VIOLENCE

[faststance]

[ It's a brief thought, but he thinks if he had gotten hit, it probably wouldn't have been a killing blow. Marcoh thinks he would have run instead of engaging Caligura. Would the man have given chase? He might have tried to hide, then.

It's these little thoughts that come one after the other. Because he didn't want Caligura to be a murderer here, either. The man ran away from the Family for his own reasons, too. Why wasn't he letting himself have a second chance? It isn't up to Marcoh to save everyone -- especially those that don't want to save themselves -- but he doesn't have to contribute to their destruction.

So he thinks.

So he wants to believe.

But an intense memory suddenly burns in his mind.

It's of Caligura? The man is brandishing the pipe just as he is now. He's waving it and striking the ground next to Levi. The teen's out of it due to his withdrawals. Marcoh is stepping forward in the way. Like Daan did. The two of them sneered and screamed at each other. He watches as he tries to tell Caligura to back off, to just leave things well enough alone. But it doesn't go that way.

Of course, it doesn't.

Scenes flash by as he's on top of Caligura beating the man's skull in with his fists. Levi is staring at horrified, confused, and scrambling away from him. He doesn't hear him as he makes sure Caligura stays down. The sound of bone breaking under his hands doesn't even cause him to pause.

And somehow the person he's killing changes each time he drives his fist down. It changes to one of the other contestants. They're grabbing onto his arms, trying to get him to stop. There is more blood and shattered bone poking through the skin than face left. Yet he recognizes each one of them. He recognizes them all. They're terrified, ruined voices as he kills them.

The memory ends and he's holding onto the front of some mannequin. ]

... I...

[ He steps back and looks to Daan. ]

... did I kill you?

[ Marcoh read it. Memories are lost as a punishment. Was Daan being kind in having him not remember what he did? ]

NICE NICE NICE

[limbical]

[For a moment, Daan is overwhelmed. He's been given visions here and there, but he assumed that maybe it was Pocketcat fucking with him, or maybe it's Rher, maybe it's some other god messing with them. So he didn't even consider that maybe it was something else.

Either way, he sees what Marcoh sees, and he's blinking rapidly before he's staring at the mannequin as well.

Ah. Daan removes his hand stiffly, then gazes up at the other man.]

What?

[Daan looks truly baffled for a moment, then he realizes Marcoh's line of thinking. There's a sharp shake of his head.]

No. Marcoh, you haven't killed anyone in this city and definitely not me. That was-- honestly, I don't know what the fuck that was. But something is... is just messing with us.

[He itches to ask about Caligura. But he'll wait; he's more focused on Marcoh right in this moment.]

[faststance]

That's... that's a relief.

[ His whole body won't stop shaking. He takes one - two steps away from the mannequin but soon is sitting on the ground in front of it. ]

Yeah... that makes sense. [ Something is messing with them. Preying on what he's guilty and terrified of. His hands hover close to one another - fingers spread. It's a pose like he wants to bring them together in prayer.

But he stops.

His fingers curl weakly and his hands drop down to his sides. ]

I'm sorry. I'm okay now.

[ Marcoh pauses to lift his head so he can look at Daan. His smile is weak and shaky, but he somehow is able to do it. ] I'm fine. It just was startling is all. [ He tries to reassure him, again, that he's all right. ]

You're okay, too, yeah?

[limbical]

You know, Marcoh, it's okay to not be okay sometimes.

[It's not that hard to see it. How much Marcoh wants to reassure, be the strong one. It's endearing, but it's also terribly self-sacrificial to the detriment of Marcoh's health. Not ideal.

There's the difference between them. Marcoh dislikes to worry others, and Daan is a mess of self-loathing and self-deprecating.]

I'm not hurt. [Daan crouches by the other man. He isn't harmed, but he realizes that his mental toll has been through it ever since people -- or close to them -- started showing up. Illusions, then? By the looks of the mannequin, that seems to be the case.

But he remains evasive, asking instead:] By the sounds of things, you and Caligura knew each other. Before Prehevil?

[His tone is completely lacks any judgment. Really, he's just genuinely curious. Caligura is nothing like Marcoh, at least from what little he knows of either of them.]

[faststance]

[ His eyes widen at that simple statement. Okay to not be okay? He lets his eye drift to look at his hand -- he turns it over to stare at the inside of his palm. In this situation?

Marcoh gives a little shake of his head. No. I'm fine. Yet somehow he wasn't able to say it aloud. Somehow, he wasn't able to look up when he felt Daan kneel down in front of him. I'm okay. It was just startling.

He wills himself to say it but the words catch in his throat.

Immediately, he has the desire to deny this, too. Even though Daan doesn't sound judgemental, doesn't sound disappointed or troubled, by this information. But he remembers -- Daan had to spill private information about himself to a stranger. There is no compulsion like that for Marcoh.

He could remain silent and the situation may resolve itself without him having to do anything. There might be a loss of trust, but that is something that could always be regained.

Certainly, there are people who would think like that, but he can't. ]

We knew of each other. [ Marcoh finally says. ] Caligura was part of the Family. [ His hands curl into fists at his side. ] And I was, too.

iv. wildcard | open, of course

[faststance]

[ And anything else here. You can PM me if you have anything you want to ask. Marcoh will be visiting people that seem like they're a little on the weaker side to have someone check in on them, or run errands for them so they don't have to walk around the dark mall by themselves. ]