asgardeventide | 008 || video

Entry tags:

008 || video

[The recording's started on impulse- help, he needed help, Henry's fingers are on the bracelet before he has time to think about it, fumbling for it to work. It's too late, of course. He'd known it the moment the last of the body control had left him, when his movement was entirely free again. But there wasn't any turning it off now.

The room is dim, shadows diffusing over it, coloring everything with a cold mist. It's dim, but enough of the details are still evident; Ryan, collapsed in a growing pool of blood, a dark, ragged nothing where his throat should've been. There's similar gaps in the joints of limbs, in his chest and legs, as if something had carved great chunks out of them. Henry's kneeling next to his face, one hand in that ruined neck, as if he could hold it together somehow. There's little on either of them that isn't soggy with blood by this point, and the steady drip of it from wherever it had spattered fights with Henry's ragged breathing for being the only sound in the room.

Though he had started the feed in search of help, Henry makes no attempt to ask for it. He's mostly still, fingers trembling, nearly black with slowly-congealing blood. The near silence stretches on for an uncomfortable amount of seconds, before he starts to laugh.

It's not loud. It's more of a low, breathless giggle than anything, as he finally sits down, eyes never leaving the body even as he finally addresses the bracelet.]

It's strange- I- I don't know what I'm supposed to do now. I thought it'd be simple--

[It's almost conversational, the words having a friendly lilt to them, another laugh creeping out as he rubs at his face with one hand. Try as he might, he can't keep it from shaking, and the motion does little other than smear more blood around.]

You see... I told him I'd kill anyone who hurt him. So what should I do?

[It turns pleading at the end, choked off in a breath as his fingers dig into the side of his face. Any further response is cut short as the darkness in the room starts to coalesce. One shape, another- misshapen birds pull out of the shadows, their beaks too large, their claws too long. One after another, they hop onto Ryan's corpse, knocking into each other with shakes of their wings, fighting for space.

They don't need to eat. The birds aren't alive. But perhaps some instinct remains as they stab their beaks into open wounds, tearing off scraps of flesh like any other crow would. Meat disappears down their throats as if it would do them any good, more blood trickling out any place their talons landed. They squabble, bickering over scraps, even as they have a feast before them.

Henry's still for a few moments, frozen, watching. The movement that follows is both vicious and clumsy, as he falls onto the birds with a hoarse scream- the sound high-pitched and hurting, more despairing than angry, even as it strangles off into a whining sob. Each gasping breath only produces more crying, but as focused as he is, Henry doesn't seem to really notice.

Without any weapon, he's tearing the birds apart with his hands, ignoring the resulting scratches. At least they're not alive.

It's there that the feed finally shuts off. It'll be a few minutes before he can respond, and even longer before he's entirely coherent.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Under the circumstances, she sees the video. She feels some of the horror that is present in it. However, everything she can think of to say is cruel, inappropriate and cold. it's all filled with the bile of seeing him in pain when he's hurt others, and knowing that it's because he's broken, Eve's broken, Eridan's a little broken and she's broken. Maybe she's better than she was, but there's still a very broken part of her that's there.

She can't address this properly. Worst of all? She's laughing, and it's not a kind laugh, and it's not a short little snort like she usually does, or an inappropriate snicker. No, she's laughing at the top of her lungs at the meaninglessness of Ryan's death, at the crack in Henry's armor, at the futility of death that has no real finality, death that does not come with the price tag that it's meant to.

And she can't bring herself to share that, and she knows it might not be what Henry needs right now, so she does the one thing she can think of.

Nothing.]

[Dirk is not something anyone ways to see right now. The way his powers keep changing his body and damaging it....

He keeps it on voice, his voice level from the cold that washes through him and about him at a near constant rate.]

Henry. [There's frost in the tone, as if Dirk is unaffected. He is but he is also removed.] Henry.

Take a second and tell me where you are. You need someone with you, right? If anything, this ice could slow things down.

[It's a few minutes before he answers- though perhaps surprisingly few under the circumstances. And apart from being breathless, his tone is- alright, not entirely normal. But it's detached in a friendly way, slightly too low, slightly too fixed.]

Ice... Sure, why not, come on down~

[The laugh that follows is a touch more on the deranged side, for how quiet it is, ending in a burst of coughing, a sharper gasp, the scratch of something. It's a few false starts before he sends the coordinates; an apartment in Loki.

Henry wasn't going to turn down any visitors. Not when he could possibly provoke someone into killing him.]

I'll be there in a few minutes. [Dirk notes the shift in Henry, The lack of rambling and the quiet seem unnatural and weird. He still goes to him anyway.

His coming is heralded by a wash of cold air and the tap of his staff. He keeps the dragging of his ice-encased leg as quiet as he dares. At first he could be mistaken for some old safe or the grim reaper. Until he reaches up and exposes enough of his face to be identified.]

Just in case you had any doubts who the hell I am. The cloak's damn misleading.

[Henry shivers a little when Dirk arrives; he apparently wasn't kidding about the ice. All the better. It wasn't unpleasant, though he sort of wished it was.

The body's gone by now, but Henry hasn't moved from where he'd been waiting, had made no attempt to even try to begin to clean anything. Or deal with it. This was all probably the opposite of dealing with it, and the eye he considers Dirk with is as cold as the other's presence, silently judging him, a half-smile on his lips that's more obvious in its insincerity. Moving a bit slow, but maybe it would work anyway. Henry pushes himself to his feet.]

It doesn't really matter. Sorry about this.

[It's bland as anything before he charges him- it's obviously aggressive, meant as an attack, the shadows rattling furniture around him even if he can't use them properly. He didn't know how the ice worked, and he didn't really care; maybe he could startle Dirk into stabbing him with it. Maybe contact would be enough and he'd freeze over entirely.

It really didn't matter.]

[Sorry about this.

It's the only warning he receives and Dirk realizes his mistake in coming the moment the rattling begins.] Wait! What the fu-

[But it's too late. He can't draw back and he's not as fast as he usually is. The ice magic reacts instead, taking Dirk's panic and his horror as fuel. It transforms into a howl of cold that whirls around its user and spreads ice out in thick jutting spears.

It lashes out with small fragments of ice that streak through the air like knives.]

[Perfect. Well, almost; the ice hadn't quite struck him dead yet. But it was acting much like his shadows had, reacting to emotion, lashing out of its own accord, as if feeling was a physical thing in itself.

The ice is sharp; Henry can feel the cold of it, if not the pain, and he resists the impulse to pause and check. Had he been stabbed yet? If so, how badly? But if he stopped, what if Dirk calmed, what if the ice stopped? How would he be punished then? As long as he was still moving, it wasn't good enough.

The laughter's reflexive, sanity a distant memory as he tackles him, arms knocking ice spears out of the way, even more distantly rejoicing in the gashes the action left, his blood freezing. The shadows may not be listening to him, but they want to hurt, taloned arms reaching up from the floor, to wrap around and sink claws into skin and ice, anything they can touch. Henry doesn't notice, hands going for Dirk's throat.]

(no subject)

timaeus_testified - 2014-02-14 13:18 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

necrowmantic - 2014-02-14 14:02 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

timaeus_testified - 2014-02-14 20:21 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

necrowmantic - 2014-02-14 20:47 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

timaeus_testified - 2014-02-14 23:30 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

necrowmantic - 2014-02-15 05:05 (UTC) - Expand

Warning: blood, violence, and possibly death

timaeus_testified - 2014-02-15 06:14 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

necrowmantic - 2014-02-15 06:28 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

timaeus_testified - 2014-02-15 06:36 (UTC) - Expand

[Again, more proof that Ninian not only isn't the only one affected by whatever's causing this terrible deal, but also that others are having it much worse than she does right now.

Will she be of any help, with her healing powers going haywire? But the idea of just leaving Henry there isn't much better. Specially not when she still remembers how Henry's words somehow helped her keep her sanity when she found Naegi dead.]

Henry... Please stop it! It won't help him... I'll go there if there's something I can do.

It's a li~ttle too late for something like that.

[He sounds calm at least, by the time he responds. Possibly too calm, the sound of a laugh in the back of his throat. Although...]

Mm, you're a healer, right? Think you could spare a bit of that for your ol' friend Henry?

[i.e., 'please mangle me.']

[Maybe it's a bit late for Ryan (Was that the name of Henry's friend? She doesn't clearly remember). But maybe she can still try doing something for Henry himself? Even when she's still scared of this power surge of hers...

She already replied to Henry's call; it's no moment to take her own words back, scared as she is. (And with really good reason.) ]

I... I'll be there soon, Henry. I'll do what I can.

Edited 2014-02-14 17:07 (UTC)

I'm not going anywhere. But... have you tried healing anything today? What does it look like?

[There's a dull eagerness there, amid the calm. But it's not like the usual enthusiasm, the usual fascination towards gory details. It's softer, a little more desperate.]

[If Henry could actually see her, he would notice how Ninian is wincing very visibly. With her lips pursed, she waits for some seconds before replying to his question, trying to keep her recent memories at bay so she can keep speaking to him.]

They work a little, but not as always. Even if I can still heal, they hurt in other ways... I don't even know if I should use them.

Oh, they don't need to work.

[It's friendly. Reassuring. Even if he'd noticed her hesitation, he wouldn't much have cared. Not normally, and especially not now.]

I'm not really hurt at all. But you can fix that, right?

voice;

afrozendance - 2014-02-16 02:00 (UTC) - Expand

voice;

necrowmantic - 2014-02-16 12:08 (UTC) - Expand

voice;

afrozendance - 2014-02-17 01:46 (UTC) - Expand

voice;

necrowmantic - 2014-02-17 10:32 (UTC) - Expand

voice;

afrozendance - 2014-02-19 02:18 (UTC) - Expand

voice;

necrowmantic - 2014-02-22 22:17 (UTC) - Expand

-father!

[Gerome is already moving, leaving his front door open for a familiar creature to fly out and come to soar above him- Heimdall isn't so far from Hel, is it? He can run the whole way and make good time.]

I'll- I'll be there shortly, hold on-

[That's enough to get a more genuine reaction from him, staring almost blankly at the recording, a little fearful, blinking blood from his eyes.]

Gerome- no, stay back!

[It's as harsh an order as he can manage, voice cracking at the end, turning into a round of coughing. Coughing that threatens to turn into another round of crying, but he holds it back, even if he can't quite keep from huddling further into himself.

The shadows move as if to emphasize his words. Though they're sluggish now; Henry really doesn't have much energy left by this point, but they're draining it.]

--What if I kill you too?

I'm bringing my axe.

[Is all he really has to say in response to that. The soft, broken sounds coming from this man are too much to bear, and he knows that he has to do something. Has to fix this somehow.]

Keep yourself safe. I'll be there shortly.

[It's a little too much, even for him, to hope that Gerome was planning to split his head open with it (though he does still imagine it, and is, perhaps, a little more distressed that it probably wouldn't happen). But instead of replying, he just shakes his head, wrapping his arms around his legs and shivering.

He couldn't stop him. And in a way, he didn't want to.]

[The trip to Hel doesn't take long, all things considered- Minerva is soaring above him and without his armor, Gerome isn't as slow as Inigo used to make fun of him for. So he races forward, axe in hand, stomping up the stairs of the living area before finding Henry's shared apartment and slamming his palm against the door.]

Father!

[The thump on the door, the voice- it startles Henry, for all that he was expecting it. Expecting it with an odd mixture of hopefulness and dread, even if it was all muted more than a bit. Not exactly unusual for him, but it's a different kind of detachment than normal.

It takes half a minute for him to force himself to stand, walking back out of the unused bedroom where everything had happened, indifferent to the blood he's trailing across the living room as he hesitates again at the door.

And once he opens it, he hesitates in the doorway, as if unsure to let him inside. The shadow cast by the door shivers, curling fingers towards Gerome's boots. Henry's a bit of a sight, hair and clothes sticky with blood, matted and clinging to him, his hand leaving smears on the doorframe.

He doesn't say anything though, just stares, a bit stunned, as if not entirely certain he's there at all.]

[Action]

wyverns - 2014-02-17 09:38 (UTC) - Expand

[Action]

necrowmantic - 2014-02-17 10:25 (UTC) - Expand

[Action]

wyverns - 2014-02-17 11:02 (UTC) - Expand

[Action]

necrowmantic - 2014-02-17 11:24 (UTC) - Expand

[Action]

wyverns - 2014-02-17 13:07 (UTC) - Expand

[Action]

necrowmantic - 2014-02-17 14:53 (UTC) - Expand

[Action]

wyverns - 2014-02-17 15:41 (UTC) - Expand

[Action]

necrowmantic - 2014-02-17 15:50 (UTC) - Expand

[Action]

wyverns - 2014-02-17 16:25 (UTC) - Expand

[Action]

necrowmantic - 2014-02-17 16:35 (UTC) - Expand

[Action]

wyverns - 2014-02-17 16:47 (UTC) - Expand

[Action]

necrowmantic - 2014-02-17 16:55 (UTC) - Expand

Jesus fucking christ.

[There are always moments like this, times when the world is too horrible to even fathom. In the past few months she's seen an incredible amount of people die. Most of them were people she really, really cared about. And here's Ryan. And Henry.

Ryan who she sees every day at work, who watches bad movies with her. Henry with his weird fucking laugh who was the first person to give her a hug in what seemed a lifetime.]

Henry, what the fuck-

Hey, Ellie.

[That it's the first time he's ever used her name doesn't occur to him, though Henry's known it for ages. He's quiet and controlled by the time he replies, if distant. There's little of that irrational pain seeping through, and if one didn't know better, he sounds almost calm.]

What should I do?

[Softer. As if he were younger than he was, that Ellie was the adult here.]

What did you do?

[Her voice catches again, and she barely keeps herself from behind sick. Maybe if she doesn't look at it. But every time she remembers a crow tearing at him-]

What the fuck?

I killed him. I thought that was pretty clear.

['I didn't mean to.' 'It wasn't intentional.' 'It was the shadows.' Even if it was true, he couldn't say it. Making excuses wouldn't save anyone, wouldn't undo anything.

There's rustling as he curls up a bit more. A sharper breath.]

Why?

[It's more a harsh breath than a word. For all she knows, Henry just finally snapped. Like he's been threatening to all this time.

Fuck, and she was starting to trust him, was starting to think that maybe Ryan wasn't so crazy for letting him close after all-]

Because I didn't listen.

[It's as much of a defense as he can muster, and he can't bring himself to qualify it more than that. He wants to be blamed, doesn't want to be told it's not his fault, there was nothing to be done- useless, meaningless comforts.

So he laughs, and if it's a broken sound, it's the best he can manage.]

Because he was there.

Reaction

[Voice]

[Voice]

[Voice ---> action]

no subject

no subject

no subject

voice;

voice;

voice;

voice;

voice;

voice;

[Video]

[Video]

[Video]

[Video]

[Action]

[Action]

[Voice]

[Voice]

[Voice]

[Voice]

[Voice]

[Voice]