( closed )

[tricksune]

Who: Yusuke Kitagawa (tricksune) and co.
What: general catch-all, currently custom prompts only, but feel free to pm me if you'd like me to write you one!
When: march, possibly april
Where: various
Warning(s): will warn in threads

Comments

/post-rescue, closed to akira, cw burns

[tricksune]

[ The rescue op goes quickly enough—they can't afford any less—but the fallout unfolds with agonizing slowness. He helps Clair to safety and goes on auto-pilot after Richie, folding the issue up and carefully pocketing it for later (callous, maybe, but one deals as they must, when they must, and now is neither the time nor place). He fires off some texts because he knows better these days, he doesn't have to deal with this alone. Or maybe it's that he can't—it's hard to keep his eyes open (very literally speaking; even blinking hurts, though at least the thin skin around his eyes is just raw where the neighboring patches on his cheeks crack and peel and blister) and eventually he has to find an empty stretch of Institute hallway to prop himself against the wall.

His mask finally fizzles away as he touches his own cheek gingerly—and the regret is immediate. He withdraws, pressing a knuckle to his teeth to hiss sharply around it. The sting is dizzying now that he gives it a chance to sink in, though maybe it's just the residual fog in his lungs venting into his skull.

And still, he should count himself lucky.

—What a disaster. He slides down to sitting, knocking his head back against the wall with a scoff. ]

[larsenist]

[ Word travels quickly within the Institute, though the signs of trouble have been there from the start. (The spill, the thefts, the missing specimens—) There's basic protocol to follow, security measures implemented to keep staff members safe and accounted for in the event of such a disturbance. Akira's discouraged from leaving his station while the investigations ensue, but he does so anyway, slipping away from the plant nursery as soon as an opportunity presents itself.

...But he has next to no information to work off of, communications scattered and clipped in the chaos. By the time he manages to reach the research wing housing the robotics lab— ]

—Yusuke.

[ Monikers forgotten, he rushes to his side, gut quickly filling with dread. (The stolen nightshade, the report of the contaminant spill nearby, the hostages—) There are too many questions clamoring in his head, and only one he can ask at a time. He keeps rigid check of his emotions, steeling himself and steadying his voice as he's always done for every Palace raid and Mementos dive; he has no other choice. ]

It's Akira. Can you hear me?

[ He seems dazed, and Akira carefully braces a hand against his neck to check the strength of his pulse. (The burns are hard to look at, but he's more concerned about the state of his internals—how much poison had he been exposed to...?) ]

[tricksune]

[ Somehow, he's not surprised to hear him. Not just logically—he works here, the city is undermanned, of course Akira's around—but naturally it'd be a fellow thief that spots him first. It makes too much sense for no good reason at all, besides the fact that none of them are very good at leaving anyone well enough alone to stew in their own misery. As expected of his completely unreasonable, wonderful friends.

All the same, he doesn't want to alarm him any more than he already has, so he pushes Akira's hand away by the wrist. No need for that. His heart's still going strong, a little fast, if anything—he'll pull through fine, much as he looks and feels like death right now. ]

Mostly, yes.

[ It's easier to keep his own cool with Akira's composure to anchor onto, and he wastes no more time in trying to sit a little straighter, squaring his shoulders and holding up a hand as though to cut him off at the pass. ]

...It looks worse than it is.

[larsenist]

[ ...It seems he at least has the energy to be stubborn. Akira's grateful for a response either way, settling back on his heels to give Yusuke space to conduct himself as he needs. ]

You should get it treated.

[ He's been working in the Institute long enough to know that nothing around here is entirely innocuous. His lips press together in a thin line as he casts a quick glance down the hall, toward the source of the burns. (There are more than enough herbs in his own department for Akira to make a basic poultice, but before he rushes him away for medical attention—) ]

...Are you alone?

[ He doubts Fox would be out here by himself were there hostages left to be saved (no matter how bad his injuries, he'd fight tooth and nail instead of languishing in the hallway), but he needs to ask to be sure. The Phantom Thieves are still a team; they're obliged to fight in each other's stead. ]

[tricksune]

[ He grabs Akira's arm, shaking his head vigorously. Not to answer his question, but as an effort to dissuade him from running off—there's no fight left to go back to. It's just the Institute staff pumping the last of the poison out of the room, cleaning and scouring it for clues, traps, bodies (and fingernails slid out their beds, and skin left to yellow and cake wherever it's sloughed off, and too much else). Even though the thieves' chat is always his first contact, there's a reason he rang up Boxer instead. He doesn't need to go—he shouldn't. ]

Everyone's been freed.

[ One way or another, anyhow. He grabs a fistful of Akira's sleeve as he sucks in a sharp, bracing breath and wobbles to his feet, vision fading white for just a moment before he finds his balance. It looks worse than it is—but it's still pretty bad. He should probably listen and do something about it, but he hadn't been staggering anywhere in particular before Akira showed up. Just venting out wherever, aimless as steam from a kettle now that the rescue's over and done with. Quietly, ]

—I don't know this space very well.

[ Also, he can barely see. But mostly, he's lost. Hopefully, Akira gets the point, because he's not feeling much like elaborating right now. ]

[larsenist]

[ It's over, then. (It's too late.)

He nods wordlessly and waits for Yusuke to catch his balance again, holding himself steady despite the pull of the other's weight. ...Whatever happened earlier, they can talk about it later. He can catch a hint. ]

This way.

[ There's plenty of ground between this wing and the greenhouse, but he keeps his pace even-keeled and patient, glancing ever so often to his friend to confirm his condition. ]

/post-rescue, closed to ann

[tricksune]

[ Though there's enough medicine to stave off the worst of the damage, it's best to leave things to a proper healer—and thankfully, there's one he knows he can count on as soon as he's dragged back home. Akira does a good enough job treating his face in the meantime, but it leaves him with a blinder of bandages, face still stinging beneath the gauze as he stumbles around his own house. He excuses himself as soon as he's able, which means there is now (1) resident lump on their couch, staring intently at the back of his eyelids.

Whenever Ann gets back, he's still awake (not that he could sleep if he tried), forcing himself up to his elbows as he hears the door squeak open. He isn't quite reckless enough to try and walk over, but he may as well greet her properly. Kind of. He makes an effort, pushing back his bangs with his thumb, not that it helps him see her at all, habit taking over. ]

Is that you, Ann?

[ He doubts anyone else would come home early from searching—she's probably only here on Akira's request herself. ]

[pussywhips]

[ All it took was one word from Akira for Ann to come rushing home as fast as she could. She bursts through the door, quickly kicking off her shoes before charging towards the living room, following Yusuke's voice. ]

Yusuke? Yusuke! Oh my god, your face.

[ Her eyes widen when she sees him. No offense or anything, but it looks pretty horrible right now, even with the bandages covering it. She sits on the edge of the couch, her eyebrows pinching together as she gets a closer look at his face, the edges of the burns peeking out from underneath the gauze. She's dying to ask him what happened, but first things first— ]

Here, let me fix it.

[ spams dia ]

slowly regains hp

[tricksune]

[ Yes, yes. His face is all shades of messed up, he's aware, though thankfully the worst of it isn't exposed to open air or in plain view. They've seen their face share of injury before, but it was different in the Metaverse, like everything was a degree removed from reality

He regrets that she has to see it at all, but her magic douses the wounds with cool relief, and slowly the burns shrink back behind the bandages as he sighs. ]

...Thank you.

[ He reaches up, carefully hooking a thumb under all the dressing to try and lift it as the wounds recede. No dice—seems that Akira might've done too thorough a job. He searches blindly for a knot to untie instead, speaking quietly in the meantime. ]

Don't overexert yourself. [ She's probably had a long day too—they all have. ]

[pussywhips]

[ She shoots him a peeved look. She's fine!! It's been a long day, sure, but he's probably had the longest—not to mention he's the one that's actually injured here. All she has to do is spam Dia. ]

Hey, stop it.

[ She smacks his hand away and takes over for him, carefully feeling around the bandages and searching for a way to unwind them. Her bedside manner might leave a little bit to be desired, but her touch is gentle as she picks at the knot and starts unraveling the dressing, slowly revealing his face. ]

What happened?

[ Now that she thinks about it, the burns were where his mask usually sits... ]

[tricksune]

[ He blinks a few times, squinting until he readjusts to the light and a bleary image shines through the last few loops of bandages. Ann's always been radiant, and she really is a sight for sore eyes now. ]

They used some sort of poison to ward us off from getting close. It must've reacted when I called my persona.

[ He traces out where the lower lip of his mask would rest against his face, skin no longer shriveled and cracked as Ann's magic courses through it. There's remnants of whatever medicine Akira used, and a mild sting beneath that, but she's healed through the worst of it all. No major harm done, though that's only due to his friends' diligence. Even if it weren't, ]

It's but a small price to pay to save the people being held there. [ He frowns, whatever fever he's still had starting to break with each spell, thoughts and realizations slowly creeping back to equilibrium. ] Though I'm not certain how successful we were...

[pussywhips]

[ Poison? She didn't pay attention enough in chemistry to even begin to guess what kind of Persona-chemical reaction could've caused this type of burn.

While he speaks, she leans in a little closer to inspect his face, watching as her spells slowly heal his skin. With the bandages gone, she finally notices that he looks a little flushed—or is that just from the burns? Either way, she gently brushes his hair aside and places her palm over his forehead, her frown deepening a little. ]

What do you mean? Like...

[ It hits her then, and she can't bring herself to finish the sentence. Already, she can feel the Dia spamming start to take its toll, her energy flagging—but she keeps going anyway, until he's all healed up. ]

Was it that bad?

/closed to boxer

[tricksune]

[ It's kind of him to offer, but Yusuke's not in much mood to text, much less make any calls. (Besides, he's pretty sure he's lying—why would he thank him? Shouldn't it be the other way around?) He waits instead, time passing as the craziness of the rescue efforts begins to simmer, still hectic but finally on a downswing. The worst of the incident is behind them now that all the (living) hostages have been evacuated, people being tended to and others being transported, staff hustling about to do damage control.

But there's still so much happening, and it's easy to tune into the buzz of activity and out of his own head; he barely notices when Boxer actually shows up, busy applying a cold compress to some poor sap's burns, Goemon barely a shimmer behind him. His persona dismisses itself entirely when he blinks up through his mask and spots a familiar, teal sword sticking out like a sore thumb. ...He actually showed. ]

—Boxer.

[ He calls out to him, not too loudly, hallways carrying enough reverb that shouting is a headache. Getting to his feet, he excuses himself quietly from his charge, filling in beside Boxer instead, wasting no time. ]

He... [ His mouth twists subtly. ] The body.

[ He's supposed to get him to Sanctuary, but as it stands, Richie lays peaceably in the shadow of a small alcove, not far from the lab doors. Out of the way, out of sight. Back turned so he might just be recovering from a bender gone too far, sleeping it off. ] It's over here.

[desistor]

[Look, if he's proven good for one thing in a crisis, it's talking people through it from a speaker. Might as well put it on the table.

Doesn't take long in the recovery zone for what's happened here to settle in with grim finality. (What happened to Cloudbank was horrific but it was clean, broken down into component parts and blank slates, emptiness and quiet. This is bloody and burning and still, even in the recovery, chaotic and aching.)

Catching sight of Yusuke in one piece, even after getting in touch, is a hell of a relief. On his feet and making himself useful to boot. Kind of puts a lot of the adults around here to shame. Himself included, maybe. Probably.

He catches up, and Yusuke points out the body in the corner. Familiar and still and shadowed. He takes a breath. More for the psychological benefits of it than anything practical. Okay.]

Okay. Yeah, I see. Sorry I didn't get here sooner.

[Though the matter of Richie's slotted down to second place, at the moment. He has one hand occupied with keeping the Transistor propped up against a shoulder, as usual. (All glowstick albatross, so constant when he's on his feet that he's almost gotten a little too used to the weight of it.) But the other catches carefully at Yusuke's shoulder to pull them to a stop. Just out of reach of the alcove so he can turn to try and get a better look at the kid through that mask.]

...Take it from me, he's not in a hurry. [Not dismissively, really, and not unkindly. But lets be real. Richie's body can wait a few more minutes if they need it. (He'd know.) Carefully casual, if even-tempered. A little bit wry. Maybe too much for the circumstances. But we all have our coping mechanisms. Then, to the point—] Sure you don't want to sit this out?

[Just because Yusuke's apparently got the steam for the extra mile doesn't mean he has to force himself through it. He doesn't want that. He doesn't think Richie would, either.]

[tricksune]

[ The fact that Boxer's shown and doesn't immediately blanch and bolt at the body is more of a relief than he could possibly anticipate. The gravity of the task ahead is replaced in part by the weight of a hand on his shoulder. (He's a good man. He ought not to be here either.) Yusuke brushes off the apology; that he'd apologize at all almost laughable.

If anything, Boxer must've headed over straightaway. There were probably more urgent needs to tend to, but for all his relative composure, Yusuke can't totally think straight. He can't leave Richie there. It's not driven by any logical argument, but the issue's rolled through his thoughts so many times over it's compressed to a point, a fixation: he has to do this. He'd lost control of his death—what would happen if he let this get away from him, too? Richie may not be in a rush, his spirit already galloped off to wherever it's meant to go, but the same can't be said for him.

So as nice as it'd be to crumple under the offer, he gives it a slight squeeze instead, more reassuring than warm, responding politely. ]

I don't mind. [ He trails for a moment, then, ] Or rather... I won't relent on this. But thank you.

[ There's no point in losing his head in all this. He'd asked him here, and despite his unfaltering cool, Richie was no stranger to Boxer; he wasn't going to foist this whole thing onto someone who's just lost a friend. ]

Besides, he's very frail. [ ...It was like his skin was barely tethered to the muscle anymore. ] You may need the extra hand.

[ He's grateful his mask leaves his expression hooded, because he grimaces at the thought. For all his conviction, there's a moment spent in lost wavering as he slips away, drifting forward towards Richie aimlessly. ]

Though I'm not sure where to begin...

[desistor]

[More urgent matters, wow. Come on, kid. Give him a little credit. He doesn't argue when Yusuke insists—no point in it, he knows the type. But he'd had to ask. Instead he laughs, once, without humor. A breathless and self-effacing thing. Grim and gallows in its delivery.]

Wish I could say I didn't know the feeling.

[His experience with this sort of thing mostly involves being left with no time for anything but leaving the remains behind to be Processed away for good. No time to spare for the bodies, for the sake of those still living. Not exactly the same situation, now. But...better to be here than not, he figures. And better the two of them than no one at all. They'll figure something out.]

Lets see...

[He catches up to Yusuke in a few deliberate steps and crouches down in front of the body, bracing himself against the ground with the Transistor propped up beside him—suppressing the little flip of vertigo that comes with recognition, the fresh twist of horror as the gore-streaked face resolves into a friend. (Time for that later, he knows, when this is done and Yusuke's been looked after and no one else is at any more risk of joining ol' Rich in the Country. He takes a good look and it hurts, sure as shit. But he breathes it in and buries it deep.) Still, without looking away—quietly angry, edged with incredulity—]

...the hell did they do to 'im?

[Why? Never seen anything like it. He exhales, and seems to notice something. Or...the lack of it. Frowns, for a few seconds, gone quiet. Then, absently—]

No Trace... [Is he disappointed, or not? Would it help, to be able to speak to him one last time? A weak warbling echo of his old self, before he slots away for good? Maybe he'd hoped, at least. for a few last words. To better understand what the hell had happened, here. Or...for Yusuke's sake, if nothing else.] Guess he's too far gone.

that's a very rude icon for this ftr

[tricksune]

[ Look, there's better things to do than drag a body around. He could be with Red, or out looking for people, or... literally anything that isn't this. He doesn't stop Boxer as he approaches their friend (what's left of him), silent as he seems to assess. What words of comfort are there to share, anyway.

He's not sure what Boxer's looking for—Richie's long gone without a trace, yes—but if nothing else, he gives him the moment to hurt. It'd taken him some time to recover his own footing, and it seems to slip again now that he's here, right in front of the body again.

But anger is something he can relate to, a fizzle of emotion that he hasn't afforded enough time between the grief and disbelief. There's a line of tension threaded through his response as he shifts his weight, eyes narrowed slightly. ]

They were tortured.

[ Yusuke finally closes the distance for himself too, crouching and gingerly reaching out to touch the crook of his elbow, like it might scald him. On the contrary, it's not warm at all. ]

Even the survivors are battered... it's unthinkable.

[ Unjust and unkind and utterly despicable. To use people like this—he'd thought he knew human cruelty back home, but it always goes so above and beyond his expectations. His expression hardens with scorn; better anger than inaction. (Though it stings still to say survivors, somehow callous to the body in front of them right this instant.) ]

Something to be dealt with later.

[ Retribution could wait. After a pause, he tries to squirm a hand under Richie's shoulder, slowly so the skin might not rupture. ] Mind his head.

my range is very limited, I gotta work with what I can

[desistor]

[Torture. Not a hard sell, from the evidence, but still. Not an easy one to swallow. He's silent through the catchup and silent through the implied retribution can wait. Yusuke doesn't say as much aloud, but it's not hard to read between the lines. Can't really blame him for wanting to get even. But it's a surprisingly measured attitude from a kid. It's easy, understandable, and pretty damn dangerous to kneejerk toward the opposite. To want to even the score right away, to put things right again. Or at least to understand it, to put the pieces together, stop things for spiraling out into something far worse.

(Some fringe group, hunting people down to take their lives and use them for their own ends. For....what? The good of the city? Feels ironically familiar, in a way, once that part comes to light. Life's funny, that way.)

But...one thing at a time. No real chiding, yet, despite the sharpish studying look leveled Yusuke's way for the news, and the declaration, and everything that comes with it. (One thing at a time.) Still, carefully—]

Whole city's wise to them, now. [Ought to help this from happening again. Or...well. Here's hoping, anyway.] Ought to slow 'em down a little.

[He leaves the Transistor leaning against the wall and moves to counterbalance as Yusuke carefully shifts the body. Hesitating only briefly when the state of the body protests the treatment. Rich isn't (wasn't) too big a guy, even when he was at his best and better at keeping all in one piece. Yusuke—though wiry—is tougher than he looks. So, between the two of them, it shouldn't be too hard to get him up and out to somewhere a little more dignified than collapsed in a corner. Figure it out from there.]

On three.

One—

[Two—]

hi

[persistor]

[ She shows up hours after the initial commotion dies down. After Boxer mentions that Yusuke stayed behind for the clean up, once the tension in his shoulder disappears and he's okay with her slipping out to the streets again ( be careful, he wishes, and she nods ). Because having another individual gasp their last breath in front of you is an awful feeling that festers. Refuses to leave. Haunts corners and idle thoughts longer than anyone really wants it to.

It's less that they're kindred souls — but more that she'd rather avoid having more people face that kind of nightmare alone ( like she had to ). She moves through the city against her better judgement, slips into the laboratory before she decides that she might be overstepping one way or another. It's too late to consider that.

( But it's not too late to pass by other volunteers walking out of the hospital, their shoulders unnaturally tense and their jaw tense. She thinks nothing of it, until one almost seems to stagger into her shoulder, raising her alarm bells when he reaches for her wrist to steady himself.

Against all expectations, he stumbles away just as quickly. A moment passes before the skin-crawling feeling disappears, and she speeds up towards the laboratory. )

It's reassuring that Yusuke seems to be keeping busy, at least. Not that that deters her from approaching him at all; just ... maybe from a direction where he'll see her approach. If he notices her at all. Either way, there's a sealed water bottle that she hands him; if he looks up to her face, she shrugs. ]

hi 30 years later

[tricksune]

[ He probably shouldn't stick around as long as he has—he assures Boxer he's fine and all but rushes back into the fray of things, anchored to the lab for reasons he hasn't figured out yet. Perhaps it's just him seeking to put a dent in the situation, somehow.

It's too easy to feel powerless, otherwise. (Even if he'd done all he could for Richie, what did it amount to? What was he doing here?) He helps navigate the damage, and when Red shows up, he's in the middle of surveying a busted security drone near the supply room that all the hostages had been stowed away in.

It takes him a moment to glance up, probably not until he sees Red's feet approach, peering up at her through his mask. ]

—Red.

[ What was she doing here... It's another, almost awkward beat before he remembers to take the bottle. ]

Did Boxer tell you...? [ Where to find him, and what had happened. ]

[persistor]

[ There's a certain level of discretion, normally, for situations like this. Gazes politely averting when certain, unspeakable words get tip-toed around — in theory. Red chooses to hold Yusuke's gaze for as long as he'll allow it, her answer coming in the form of a single, grim nod. He's heard from him, in slow, but certain terms. Some details to follow up, once she pressed him for them.

It didn't sound pretty. Seeing here, she's starting to see why.

She crouches down beside Yusuke, taking in the appearance of the security drone. Exceedingly primitive compared to what she's seen, but that doesn't mean much anymore. She's not here to help, exactly, more just to make sure that no one's driving themselves to the point of exhaustion in an attempt to do something—

Her arms crawl at the sight of a brilliant, static-y white that seems to cover the edges of the drone ( or maybe her arms crawl at the same time, out of pure coincidence; she doesn't want to entertain that possibility for long ). Red's body freezes, blinking the sight away.

A trick of the light, maybe ( she hopes ). ]

[tricksune]

[ At least she's honest. His eyes soften slightly—she'd lost a friend today, too. He'd brought Boxer here, Boxer'd taken the news back, and he's glad that he had someone to share it with who might buffer the blow. But it still means that she's taken on a bit of the burden herself. For her to still be here after... he wonders if it brings any relief to see the scene for herself. ]

I'm sorry.

[ For her loss. He's just out of sorts enough that he misreads the minutiae of her body language; the hard stare, the sudden stiffness, all of it could just be consequence of the bleakness in the lab, the suffocating atmosphere lingering even as the gas has been cleared out.

(That must be it, right...?)

It seems that something about the drone's caught her eye, though, so he explains as placidly as he can. ]

It's just a bit of clean-up and investigation left... You needn't push yourself to be here. [ He's not sure if he really anticipates the day being over, but the truth is that there isn't much left to do. ]

[persistor]

[ The apology seems to shake her back to reality, tearing her eyes away from the white that seems to slowly, but certainly, fade away. Listens quietly ( not like she can do much else ) while Yusuke tries to explain what's left to do, eager to ease the blow for her.

It's ... sweet. He watched Richie die in his arms, that much she knows — and from the way that Boxer acted, it's not hard to tell how bad it got. And yet, here he is.

She shakes her head — there's no need, she's the one who just got here. Finally pulls her phone out of her pocket, typing up a short message for Yusuke to read ( keeps her attention focused on the living, the real, because if she stares at the drone again who knows what she'll see ). Ignores the pain that shoots up her arm again, jaw tensing in an attempt to bite back the grimace. Red turns the screen over. ]

You probably need the

[ There's laughter that rings behind her, high, clear, playful, Sybil's. The phone clatters to the ground, as she whips her head around.

Nothing.

( You're not looking the right way, Red. ) ]

[tricksune]

[ It's easy enough to read along as she types, that much is normal. And that's about all that stays normal, because there's a sudden, abrupt disturbance (impossible to follow, because it's all in her own head, his own surprise only a reaction to hers) and he nearly flinches.

...He reaches down to grab her phone for her, though he moves more slowly than he really needs to, stiff with caution. Maybe he's just overly attuned to everything going wrong today, but something was off. The extremists had all run out ages ago, threats trickled out with them, and now... there shouldn't be anything left. (Theoretically. Though he should realize there's always room for a little more tragedy in any given hour.)

He speaks slowly, too. ]

Is... [ He leans his head, looking over her shoulder. ] something the matter?

[ If he heard anything—and of course he didn't—there's nothing that indicates as much. Just a puzzled look, phone gently nudged against her shoulder to return it. ]

[pussywhips]

i'm so sleepy nu...but i'm coming.....