"They didn't break me. I broke myself." | open
Who: Randel Oland (
toten_sie) & you
What: nightmares, stress, and catch-all
When: january
Where: olympia
Warning(s): nightmares; starters are marked; let me know if you'd like a starter @ yarnzipan on plurk
[ BACK TO WORK | shades darker | olympia red light district | open ]
[ Randel's been avoiding going out much if he can help it. He doesn't want to hear the muttering in the streets, doesn't want to hear the rumbling of war. It's better here at work, at the brothel. At the brothel, the noises of sex and pleasure, the laughter of people engaged in mindless enjoyment... it's a relief, to be somewhere where he doesn't have to think of it. The brothel is like the home he had before any of that darkness came into his life and he ends up spending time there even when he's technically off shift: not spending time with any of the workers there, 'paid' time anyway, just hanging around in the empty areas or dozing in the back alley behind the building.]
[ NIGHTMARES | park | around olympia | open - likelihood of nightmare discussion]
[ He has an apartment now. He'd been invited there by Reinhardt, but his sleep has been so terrible lately, he can't bring himself to go there. He can't bring himself to interrupt people's sleep or be a bother. That's why he's found a few spots around the city, in the parks, where he can have his nightmares. The Natha had done what they could, had calmed his sleep so far, but now there's nothing to be done about it. He's afraid, it feels like all the time, and more often than not, he shuffles on the ground in his sleep, waking with a scream. ]
[ TRYING TO HELP | deserter enclave | open ]
[ When he'd found out about people leaving the cities, leaving the war behind, it'd been like a revelation. He didn't have much for transportation, but he had his legs and a willingness to help, and since he'd been working for a month and spent so little, he also had the money to buy supplies. That's why he's been spending most of his time when he isn't at work going on trips to the deserters, delivering what he can and finding out what else they might need. He's considered staying there a time or two, but Abel's lessons and his own fear keep him returning to the city, to the safety of the brothel and the streets. He's a city creature, whatever else he is, and the outskirts are too wild for him to feel safe there.
Not to mention that he knows how fragile their safety is. They'd rolled through more than a few outposts in his time in the army, more than a few people who thought they could live outside of the troubles society.
In some ways, it makes him feel like what he's doing is pointless. But he has to do something, so he's trying to do what he figures the Lieutenant would do. These people are in need of war relief, even though the war hasn't even started yet, because started or not, it'd taken the people's homes from them. Until she woke up, until they all woke up, he would have to serve as Section III's representative... for whatever that's worth. ]
[ pirate stomping | flona cove | open - possible violence and psychological trauma ]
[ On the recommendation of one of the girls at brothel, he'd taken a ride out. It'd been rocky and a little awkward, as much because finding a beast big enough for him wasn't easy as anything else, but he'd figured he could use the animal to help him do a supply run as well, give some purpose to his trip. He'd gone a little far afield from that, since he was pretty much the worst sort of horseman, which is when he'd found the boats and gone to investigate. Creeping further, he'd discovered the pirates and what they were up to... and now, teeth in his lower lip, he's considering something... unpleasant.
The miners need their supplies.
Something like this could be misconstrued as a sort of attack.
It might even be an attack.
He needed to do something. His hand was itching towards his lantern. But... he really really didn't want to.]
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What: nightmares, stress, and catch-all
When: january
Where: olympia
Warning(s): nightmares; starters are marked; let me know if you'd like a starter @ yarnzipan on plurk
[ BACK TO WORK | shades darker | olympia red light district | open ]
[ Randel's been avoiding going out much if he can help it. He doesn't want to hear the muttering in the streets, doesn't want to hear the rumbling of war. It's better here at work, at the brothel. At the brothel, the noises of sex and pleasure, the laughter of people engaged in mindless enjoyment... it's a relief, to be somewhere where he doesn't have to think of it. The brothel is like the home he had before any of that darkness came into his life and he ends up spending time there even when he's technically off shift: not spending time with any of the workers there, 'paid' time anyway, just hanging around in the empty areas or dozing in the back alley behind the building.]
[ NIGHTMARES | park | around olympia | open - likelihood of nightmare discussion]
[ He has an apartment now. He'd been invited there by Reinhardt, but his sleep has been so terrible lately, he can't bring himself to go there. He can't bring himself to interrupt people's sleep or be a bother. That's why he's found a few spots around the city, in the parks, where he can have his nightmares. The Natha had done what they could, had calmed his sleep so far, but now there's nothing to be done about it. He's afraid, it feels like all the time, and more often than not, he shuffles on the ground in his sleep, waking with a scream. ]
[ TRYING TO HELP | deserter enclave | open ]
[ When he'd found out about people leaving the cities, leaving the war behind, it'd been like a revelation. He didn't have much for transportation, but he had his legs and a willingness to help, and since he'd been working for a month and spent so little, he also had the money to buy supplies. That's why he's been spending most of his time when he isn't at work going on trips to the deserters, delivering what he can and finding out what else they might need. He's considered staying there a time or two, but Abel's lessons and his own fear keep him returning to the city, to the safety of the brothel and the streets. He's a city creature, whatever else he is, and the outskirts are too wild for him to feel safe there.
Not to mention that he knows how fragile their safety is. They'd rolled through more than a few outposts in his time in the army, more than a few people who thought they could live outside of the troubles society.
In some ways, it makes him feel like what he's doing is pointless. But he has to do something, so he's trying to do what he figures the Lieutenant would do. These people are in need of war relief, even though the war hasn't even started yet, because started or not, it'd taken the people's homes from them. Until she woke up, until they all woke up, he would have to serve as Section III's representative... for whatever that's worth. ]
[ pirate stomping | flona cove | open - possible violence and psychological trauma ]
[ On the recommendation of one of the girls at brothel, he'd taken a ride out. It'd been rocky and a little awkward, as much because finding a beast big enough for him wasn't easy as anything else, but he'd figured he could use the animal to help him do a supply run as well, give some purpose to his trip. He'd gone a little far afield from that, since he was pretty much the worst sort of horseman, which is when he'd found the boats and gone to investigate. Creeping further, he'd discovered the pirates and what they were up to... and now, teeth in his lower lip, he's considering something... unpleasant.
The miners need their supplies.
Something like this could be misconstrued as a sort of attack.
It might even be an attack.
He needed to do something. His hand was itching towards his lantern. But... he really really didn't want to.]
shades darker
Usually Reign wouldn't have bothered getting involved, but something made him approach the man. Turned out he's one of the bouncers he'd seen before. ]
Not on shift today?
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Not at the moment.
I can move if you need the area.
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Reign held up a hand and shook his head, smiling in return. ]
No, it's all right. You can stay. I was just wondering what you're doing here. Not that you can't, even when off the job. Mind if I join you?
[ He waved toward the spot beside the man. ]
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Have you been here long?
[ The question could apply to both the length of employment Randel had been at Shades Darker, or the length of time since the man had woken from stasis. ]
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let's stomp some pirates bru
On his way to a quiet lagoon that he hopes will yield some shinies, he's surprised to find a huge mount carefully tethered up, but of course there's no reason to presume that Atsushi would be the only one here. When Atsushi belatedly sees the giant man, the shock is not so much for his size (though that arguably doesn't help) as for the way he barely moves, making Atsushi slow to notice him - but when he does, the vibes of danger are overwhelming. Briefly, Atsushi considers turning back: conflict is the last thing he wants. But then he notices what the man is looking at.
Transforming his eyes, Atsushi confirms with a better look that it's not a pleasant scene out there in the distance. That's theft, isn't it? And with those ships - did they want to be pirates?! Maybe Atsushi shouldn't get involved, but he can't just let it happen, either.]
Um... excuse me...
[It's a very careful whisper that sounds far too loud to his own ears, considering how secretive they're being, and how much he's trying to stay out of sight of the pirates... which means hiding close to the giant man, whether he likes it or not. Atsushi is a little nervous; he can't help it. But he's also determined.
He's just. Not the greatest at coordinating a plan of attack, with too many potential variables.]
Could you please keep an eye on my things? I want to try and stop those pirates.
[Hold his non-existent flower. Or come kick ass with him; he's good either way.]
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Oh God, does that mean he isn't going to have to do anything?
Oh God, thank goodness. He can do that. He can absolutely do that. He will happily do that, and he says so with a nod that's practically a blur it's so fast. ]
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With a firm little nod in reply, as if they've officially decided to communicate only in that particular sub-set of body language, Atsushi puts his backpack (containing some simple tools, food, a change of clothes, and matches) down next to the big man.]
If you could call the authorities, that would be helpful.
[Atsushi has no idea what authorities, let alone whether they'd come out for something like this, but it's worth a shot.... probably.
Meanwhile he comes out of their hiding spot, transforming his arms and legs into oversized white tiger paws. It's just a split second that they're visible; then he digs his claws in, braces himself, and pushes off, running over the rocks towards the mining area.
He's fast, almost comically so for a skinny young man with too-big animal limbs. The pirates notice him a little too late, and are slow to raise the alarm even after that: it's hard to know what to make of a single person (or animal?) approaching like that. By the time they're preparing their defense, Atsushi is already jumping off a high cliff onto their ship, claws ready to strike.
He doesn't aim to kill, of course. He'd rather not hurt anyone more than necessary. But he'll knock people out with no remorse whatsoever (there's probably enough rope aboard the ship to tie everyone up eventually?), and he'll defend himself if attacked. His tiger limbs are conveniently bullet-proof, doubling as a shield; the rest of him is a lot less pirate-resistant, and he's not exactly being careful. He heals faster than most people, and he's got a negative sense of self-worth; the combination of logic and self-loathing makes him very likely to get injured to some degree.]
warning for violence and blood
He wasn't expecting the paws or any of the rest of it, but he notices the blood as soon as it starts flowing, as soon as it stains his shirt or his pants. He watches, and he notices the way the boy is fighting. He notices that he's trying not to hurt anyone, but the pirates aren't doing anything like that. They'll kill him. They could kill him if he isn't careful, and he's definitely not being careful.
In the end, he doesn't even know when he hits the lever. The voice was already calling him, over and over and over again, words like daggers, like ants crawling all over him.
Toten sie.
Before the lantern was on, he didn't know what to do. But now he does. Now he knows, with absolute certainty, and it's amazing how fast a man of his size can move, the massive shears coming free from their sheath. The objective is to make the pirates stop. The objective is to save the supplies. The objective is to save the boy.
That's why the shears go into the first pirate, split him in half like a hot knife through butter up... then down, blood spraying. Before he turns to the rest of them with empty eyes, covered in the life of their friend and companion.
I will do the same to you he doesn't say. He doesn't have to.
Run or I will do the same to you.]
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Trying to help
He's grown accustomed to doing this alone. To traveling. Just him. His armor and his hammer. His horse and whatever supplies he can load upon the massive steed while he walks beside it. What he isn't expecting is to see someone else with that same idea.
He knows he's not subtle in his metal suit. It makes him seem even larger. But the helmet is off so all can see his face and know he's not a danger. He approaches, leading a white stallion large enough for a man of his size to ride. The horse is already loaded with supplies and he gives Randel a little look.]
Hallo friend. You must be tired, carrying all of that. If you wish, you can put it on Grani for a while. I have a feeling we are going to the same place.
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Thank you.
[ He should have asked if Reinhardt was doing anything for all this, and he would have... if he hadn't been avoiding the apartment. Which makes him feel even guiltier. ]
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The horse makes a small sound when it's loaded up more. Grani is made for this sort of thing and then some, so at the pat, there is a white nose pushing at Randel. Reinhardt's horse is very spoiled and thinks there is treats to be had.]
Of course. It's a lot for one man to carry. Now we share the burden and even more out there can be helped. Though I am glad to have run into you. The travelers tend to react badly to my armor at first. [ Not his fault really. It's very large armor and looks every bit like it's seen a great many wars. He's a walking tank and it's not really something those fleeing from a potential war might like to see. ]
Now I have a smiling face to help me distribute all of this.
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I'm happy to help. And it's good to know that there are others coming out here.
I've seen a few on the road, but it's hard to tell sometimes.
nightmares
He's out walking in one of those parks when a piercing scream cuts through his thoughts. Someone in trouble? Sounds like they're nearby, too. He rushes off in the direction the sound came from and soon finds its source: some tall guy with a couple big scars on his face.
Doesn't seem like he's being attacked right now, though...]
Are you all right?
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Yes. I'm fine.
I'm sorry, you startled me.
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A little wrinkle of confusion comes and goes from his brow.]
I heard you scream.
[There's no one else around that he can see... Surely, it was this guy who cried out.]
Before I found you. [Before he was anywhere near him. He knows that much wasn't his startling him.] You sure you're okay?
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No, thank you, I'm fine. I just...
[ He looks around for a moment before his eyes find a lamp post and the light there seems to settle him out. ]
Thank you for coming to check on me.
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[Nightmares]
But he's also somewhere else. Waking into Randel's nightmare is disorienting at first, it's always disorientating, not being able to pinpoint the spot where his own dream ends and someone else's begins, walking through this meeting point of minds. He's learning the feel of it now, though. So he stops, and waits for the other dreamer to notice him.]
tw for blood, trauma, violence etc.
HE's certain there's ones he can't remember which are worse, but he's not the sort to go prodding.
As it is, he's back in the graveyard, in the war-torn battlefield, in the ranks of his Invisible Nine troop, all of them marching, all of them chanting
Toten sie Toten sie
All of them heartless but unmercifully not mindless, bodies ripped to pieces by tank fire as he keeps running forward, runs until he's at the tank where he can start to feed the endless beast, and ever-screaming voice, and paint the world red. And the world is red, pools of blood from which emerge the hands, the arms. He has no face for most of the people he's killed over his lifetime, can't think of what they look like, but he knows they hate him, knows that they know him for the vile wretch he is, and seek to pull him down.
Down into the depths, down into the blood, down into the darkness where there is no end. Naked, screaming, he strains against them, desperate to escape even as he knows his eventual fate, his just fate. ]
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So. He's in a graveyard. And while back at Shades Darker he's asleep in more standard workwear, here he's in soft grey pyjamas with little pink flowers on. And a kimono.
The horrors don't seem to have noticed he's there. So, after a moment, when he manages to pull his hands away from his eyes, he claps them together.]
Now you stop that. Let him go, he has somewhere else to be.
[And he's walking toward the blood, toward the gore - his own hand out but only as an offer. He won't drag Randel anywhere.
Behind him, a door cuts through the sky and through it... daylight. Green leaves, and a statue standing over a fountain.]
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What are you doing here?
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cw human trafficking
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parks.
[ The scream (fear, Bruce smells it) draws him like a starved wolf. ]
Hey. [ Soft, clear. ] Here.
[ He offers a bar of chocolate. ]
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Despite still shaking a little, despite the haunted look in his eyes, it's clear from his tone and the way he leans back that his first concern is Bruce's worry. His voice is soft. ]
Thank you, but I'll be okay.
[ He looks at the chocolate again. He doesn't need it. Maybe someone at work would like it. But- ]
You should save that for someone else. I'm all right.
[ He has some rations saved even now; he keeps them on himself, easy food, kept in his bag, something to travel with if he needs to, something to feed the cats. ]
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It helps.
[ Brusque, not forceful. It's grotesquely intimate, watching someone's worst fears play across their sleeping face. He wouldn't be so charitable to the person rousing him, but Bruce's nightmares are nearly always experienced alone, and after, left to be brutal in ways that only cut him. ]
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He deserves everything he sees, every hand reaching out from the darkness and the pools of blood to drag him down. He put them there, after all. He decides a different tack. ]
My name is Randel. Who are you, sir?
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