[ It's how all ghost stories begin. Something familiar, wrong. Made wrong, or — wronged itself.
And this is destruction reimagined. Rage and sorrow, a wave and its undertow, crashing through his senses. Subaru takes Choi's hand, but it's not enough. Whatever descends on them nearly snuffs out his warmth and familiarity in its entirety. The chill lances through him as soon as it breaks free into the sky, the streets, a feral warning signaled in his synapses as much as his marrow. He glimpses the mortar of the surrounding buildings beginning to weep, the brick coating in wet, myriad colors.
Subaru steels against the disorientation, following Choi into doubling back. But he's a bit slower, instincts blooming into allergy. ]
Something is here, [ he warns, breath catching on the air in a flare of white. ] and it's also breathing.
[ their surroundings sink around them, and the atmosphere alone, chilled as it is, is heavy in itself. the lights continue flickering out one by one as the feeling of dread travels down the street, and their feet sink into soft ground beneath them. agent choi does little to hide his concern. ]
Aha... Let's hope we don't run into it then, yeah?
[ his gaze as it sweeps over their surroundings is measuring. by now, his own limp has faded—but that doesn't mean he thinks that subaru is in any state to fight yet. not unnecessarily. neither does choi think him the type to sit back and happily enjoy the show while he does so himself, and therein lies the preferred scenario: one where they do not encounter something at all. it's a task easier said than done when their environment is rebuilding itself ]
[ Usually one to stand his ground, a feeling like cold static rolls up his spine, diffusing in the back of his eyes, his throat. So strong he can almost taste the unfamiliar anxiety of it. But if he can't resort to a fight, then he won't resort to idling, either.
His attention darts aside when the noises come — the desecrated hiss of rot blooming, buildings and asphalt cracking as they shift, wet like broken bone. And beyond that, movement, whispers of aggression, sounds of something breaking free and going on the hunt. Warding Agent Choi aside, his free hand lifts to trace something against the air as if writing on a clear pane of glass. It should be familiar.
It's the same pathcutting sigil once traced on the back of his hand. ]
This won't cost me much to cast. [ He explains quietly, invoking it in a soft spark of light. It pulses, magic racing ahead and around a corner. ] This way.
[ Subaru pushes ahead first to follow its lead, urging Choi to follow close behind with a firmer lace of his fingers. ]
[ subaru isn't the only one who can sense the arrival of something—many somethings. ah, but luckily one of them is able to be useful here, with that familiar shape. goodness, imagine being jealous of the air.
but there's no time for that, really. subaru's fingers lace with his, pulling him along, and he squeezes back even as he falls into step with the other—though the cool touch of his skin is noticeable against his usual warmth. around a corner, ducking into what may have an alley, the cover alone is something to be grateful for. even more so when they cut through the block and come out the other side, finding something useful before them.
closing the distance, the gentle light that had led them here sputters out, but it's more than done its job. what it's led them to is a post locker, lined with compartments of various sizes, including...
one that might just be big enough to fit the two of them.
there's some doubt nagging in choi's mind as his gaze rests on it, but beggars can't be choosers, and this is where subaru's sigil led them after all. he'll disentangle his fingers from subaru's with a smile tossed in his direction—let him handle this. then, he makes his way right up to the largest of the lockers, takes the handle in both hands, and pulls.
there's a groan from the structure, but after a moment, it gives with a resounding crack. something that might draw more attention than is preferable right now, but can't really be avoided either. that just means it's all the more important for him to start gesturing for subaru to come over, to step inside first. ]
[ His doubt is one Subaru mirrors for all of the few seconds it takes to break his way in. If the architecture will betray them, maybe the space of this object won't? That echo of the locking mechanism coming apart rifts his attention between the noise and the unnerving silence that follows. It's the silence of being perceived. And in it, a tumultuous wave surges: it's rage and it's agony, it's the lulling dance of a viper's tongue licking at its edges.
On the edges of it, creatures come calling on them to make a choice. He hears claws on pavement, dripping.
Subaru follows Agent Choi's bid to get him in first, though he makes a face when he realizes that he intends to put himself closer to the door. Inside, the space is taller than it is wide — to call it enough room would be gracious. But even hurriedly clambering into the dim metallic scent of disuse, they fit. Balancing a palm on Choi's middle, he loops his opposite arm around him to get at the door's lock. Sternly, he refuses to entertain the strange psychic runoff he's feeling from One and from Sleep. Just for a moment. ]
Hold the door closed as tightly as you can.
[ Voice thinning to a whisper against his arm, he starts tracing another glyph onto the door, something to invert force placed against it. It should, theoretically, act as a second lock. It's also not the only magic emitting soft light in the dark.
All the places they touch blur with a similar glow, too. ]
[ closer to the door, yes, and ready to shut subaru inside and pull aggro if they don't happen to be quick enough too. there are options here—a necessity as the beings hot on their trail continue to approach, shambling steps pulling a twitch from choi's spotted ears even as he steps inside the locker himself.
one elbow rests against the cold metal over subaru's shoulder, while his other hand holds the door shut tight behind him. the space is cramped, if just sizable enough to do the job, but there are certainly worse positions to find oneself in—and worse people to find oneself with. as for the instructions, choi will offer this much: ]
You don't have to tell me twice.
[ but that's all he'll say—all he can say aloud, before those heavy steps come closer still, catching up with them at last. the sounds outside of the locker are wet and raw. lips smacking and teeth clicking together, panting and whining and growling; none of it spells anything good for the two of them inside this locker as the spongy sounds of claws against fungal matter begin to spread out around them, surrounding them.
those creatures know they must be here, and it's just a matter of finding out where now.
as for agent choi, he's lowered his head now, ducked down by subaru's shoulder, breath warm against his skin for a few moments before he leans in. his lips are by contrast cold, but soft as he presses them against subaru's neck. ]
[ There's something binding them together in this space, something that's not the fragments of their convergence, murmuring in the dark. Subaru's senses flood with the clamor of everything racing to claim them — the nauseating outcry of One, Sleep's droning purr, her hounds, the sudden, incriminating hush of their hunting. And closer still, the radiant chill of Agent Choi's mouth at the pounding column of his neck. A shiver ripples his skin, attention immediately drawn to him and his touch.
Some other bond is overlaying the one they have, casting this new light around. But the longer it lingers, the more Subaru understands that it's a beacon. Whatever calm it's giving him, whatever instincts it's sating in Choi, it's coming at a cost. The metal around them rattles and warms as something breathes outside the door, an eerie humidity flowing through the seams.
Silently, his fingers flex back from the door, away from the spell and where Choi holds it shut. His other hand tightens into his shirt as a warning. In that shift, his intent unfurls:
He's going to retract the spell. He's going to try and sever this link in favor of their tether.
Then it'll just be Choi's strength and their own silence standing between them and whatever's outside. ]
[ it's a stark contrast against the uproar that subaru experiences in this small, shared space of theirs. sleep's words that carry through the murmur, and an awareness of one unaccompanied by sensation—they overlay an uneasy sense of calm over choi, as if experiencing the tense world around him through dulled senses, even when his nose and teeth are as sharp as ever.
for him, it's the tensing of fabric—subaru's hand curling into his shirt that calls him back from this awareness and into the present moment. his mouth is filled with the sweet scent of tea, accompanied by paper and ink, and his lips curve into a smile in their brief distance from his skin.
Go ahead, he thinks, and his grip on the handle doesn't shift in the least. if this is the decision that subaru has made, agent choi can trust in that, and he can trust in himself too, he thinks. at least enough to protect the other man should push come to shove; if they're lucky enough, maybe those creatures outside will move on without too much fuss in the first place. choi has always been more of a hopeful person, if not an optimist. ]
[ There it is, so vivid he can feel its thrum jump against his skin — his smile. Given that acknowledgement, he doesn't waste time they already can't afford. The spell rifts in an instant; the sensation of their tether wanes back, severing the fortifying connection. All at once, the interior of the locker plunges into darkness.
Now, to see if it works. The creatures outside will surely sense what he's done, but will it cause them to turn elsewhere? Or will the darkness itself alert them? There's no telling. All he can do is believe he's made the right decision, and that Choi hasn't wrongly put his trust in him this time. Subaru holds his breath in these close quarters, heartbeat churning. The seconds stretch long. With the link gone, Sleep's whispers slither against his mind, sweet and soothing. And outside, something snarls.
His fingers that once drew the spell settle on Agent Choi's forearm, sensing the dull tension in him. Almost a question, if he had the space to ask it. ]
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no subject
And this is destruction reimagined. Rage and sorrow, a wave and its undertow, crashing through his senses. Subaru takes Choi's hand, but it's not enough. Whatever descends on them nearly snuffs out his warmth and familiarity in its entirety. The chill lances through him as soon as it breaks free into the sky, the streets, a feral warning signaled in his synapses as much as his marrow. He glimpses the mortar of the surrounding buildings beginning to weep, the brick coating in wet, myriad colors.
Subaru steels against the disorientation, following Choi into doubling back. But he's a bit slower, instincts blooming into allergy. ]
Something is here, [ he warns, breath catching on the air in a flare of white. ] and it's also breathing.
no subject
Aha... Let's hope we don't run into it then, yeah?
[ his gaze as it sweeps over their surroundings is measuring. by now, his own limp has faded—but that doesn't mean he thinks that subaru is in any state to fight yet. not unnecessarily. neither does choi think him the type to sit back and happily enjoy the show while he does so himself, and therein lies the preferred scenario: one where they do not encounter something at all. it's a task easier said than done when their environment is rebuilding itself ]
If you see any good cover...
[ they could probably use some right now. ]
no subject
His attention darts aside when the noises come — the desecrated hiss of rot blooming, buildings and asphalt cracking as they shift, wet like broken bone. And beyond that, movement, whispers of aggression, sounds of something breaking free and going on the hunt. Warding Agent Choi aside, his free hand lifts to trace something against the air as if writing on a clear pane of glass. It should be familiar.
It's the same pathcutting sigil once traced on the back of his hand. ]
This won't cost me much to cast. [ He explains quietly, invoking it in a soft spark of light. It pulses, magic racing ahead and around a corner. ] This way.
[ Subaru pushes ahead first to follow its lead, urging Choi to follow close behind with a firmer lace of his fingers. ]
no subject
but there's no time for that, really. subaru's fingers lace with his, pulling him along, and he squeezes back even as he falls into step with the other—though the cool touch of his skin is noticeable against his usual warmth. around a corner, ducking into what may have an alley, the cover alone is something to be grateful for. even more so when they cut through the block and come out the other side, finding something useful before them.
closing the distance, the gentle light that had led them here sputters out, but it's more than done its job. what it's led them to is a post locker, lined with compartments of various sizes, including...
one that might just be big enough to fit the two of them.
there's some doubt nagging in choi's mind as his gaze rests on it, but beggars can't be choosers, and this is where subaru's sigil led them after all. he'll disentangle his fingers from subaru's with a smile tossed in his direction—let him handle this. then, he makes his way right up to the largest of the lockers, takes the handle in both hands, and pulls.
there's a groan from the structure, but after a moment, it gives with a resounding crack. something that might draw more attention than is preferable right now, but can't really be avoided either. that just means it's all the more important for him to start gesturing for subaru to come over, to step inside first. ]
Come on, you first.
no subject
On the edges of it, creatures come calling on them to make a choice. He hears claws on pavement, dripping.
Subaru follows Agent Choi's bid to get him in first, though he makes a face when he realizes that he intends to put himself closer to the door. Inside, the space is taller than it is wide — to call it enough room would be gracious. But even hurriedly clambering into the dim metallic scent of disuse, they fit. Balancing a palm on Choi's middle, he loops his opposite arm around him to get at the door's lock. Sternly, he refuses to entertain the strange psychic runoff he's feeling from One and from Sleep. Just for a moment. ]
Hold the door closed as tightly as you can.
[ Voice thinning to a whisper against his arm, he starts tracing another glyph onto the door, something to invert force placed against it. It should, theoretically, act as a second lock. It's also not the only magic emitting soft light in the dark.
All the places they touch blur with a similar glow, too. ]
no subject
one elbow rests against the cold metal over subaru's shoulder, while his other hand holds the door shut tight behind him. the space is cramped, if just sizable enough to do the job, but there are certainly worse positions to find oneself in—and worse people to find oneself with. as for the instructions, choi will offer this much: ]
You don't have to tell me twice.
[ but that's all he'll say—all he can say aloud, before those heavy steps come closer still, catching up with them at last. the sounds outside of the locker are wet and raw. lips smacking and teeth clicking together, panting and whining and growling; none of it spells anything good for the two of them inside this locker as the spongy sounds of claws against fungal matter begin to spread out around them, surrounding them.
those creatures know they must be here, and it's just a matter of finding out where now.
as for agent choi, he's lowered his head now, ducked down by subaru's shoulder, breath warm against his skin for a few moments before he leans in. his lips are by contrast cold, but soft as he presses them against subaru's neck. ]
no subject
Some other bond is overlaying the one they have, casting this new light around. But the longer it lingers, the more Subaru understands that it's a beacon. Whatever calm it's giving him, whatever instincts it's sating in Choi, it's coming at a cost. The metal around them rattles and warms as something breathes outside the door, an eerie humidity flowing through the seams.
Silently, his fingers flex back from the door, away from the spell and where Choi holds it shut. His other hand tightens into his shirt as a warning. In that shift, his intent unfurls:
He's going to retract the spell. He's going to try and sever this link in favor of their tether.
Then it'll just be Choi's strength and their own silence standing between them and whatever's outside. ]
no subject
for him, it's the tensing of fabric—subaru's hand curling into his shirt that calls him back from this awareness and into the present moment. his mouth is filled with the sweet scent of tea, accompanied by paper and ink, and his lips curve into a smile in their brief distance from his skin.
Go ahead, he thinks, and his grip on the handle doesn't shift in the least. if this is the decision that subaru has made, agent choi can trust in that, and he can trust in himself too, he thinks. at least enough to protect the other man should push come to shove; if they're lucky enough, maybe those creatures outside will move on without too much fuss in the first place. choi has always been more of a hopeful person, if not an optimist. ]
no subject
Now, to see if it works. The creatures outside will surely sense what he's done, but will it cause them to turn elsewhere? Or will the darkness itself alert them? There's no telling. All he can do is believe he's made the right decision, and that Choi hasn't wrongly put his trust in him this time. Subaru holds his breath in these close quarters, heartbeat churning. The seconds stretch long. With the link gone, Sleep's whispers slither against his mind, sweet and soothing. And outside, something snarls.
His fingers that once drew the spell settle on Agent Choi's forearm, sensing the dull tension in him. Almost a question, if he had the space to ask it. ]