but choi will allow himself to be pulled up to his feet, giving his legs a stretch and suppressing the yawn that gathers in the back of his throat. it wasn't such a bad nap, but now it's time to return to the waking world and all the responsibilities that come with it, right? so once he listens to subaru's explanation, choi will go ahead and reluctantly disentangle their hands himself. his shoulder still brushes against the other's, but he holds his out in front of him to examine it.
so it's that kind of spell, huh. ]
Okie-dokie.
[ as eloquent as ever in these broken, still burning remains of what manhattan had once been, he'll close his eyes. his hand is still held out, fingers splayed, but this isn't such a physical obstacle that he's facing anyway. rather, in the midst of these memories that don't belong to him, their sorrow and their fear and the eerie sense of peace that still licks at his heels, pulling and inviting him closer, there's something specific he's looking for. a lifeline that no longer feels quite so delicate as it once was.
and if choi wraps his hand around it, following it to its source...
it will guide him back to their manhattan, where he opens his eyes to a city no less broken, but now familiar enough to call his own.
the space at their feet and all around them is clear now of the blooms that had been attempting to embrace him in the dream, but his scar itches, and subaru will see it ringed around his neck: the beginnings of a kind of fungal lace. it's still early yet though—nothing that an absent set of fingernails can't dislodge, and choi looks down with an expression of distaste as he examines the remains. ]
[ Because Choi is standing here with him now, squarely on the desolate pavement of a red-seethed Manhattan. The one that exists now, the real one — whatever it might count for. His sigil did its job, its ink dark and alive, drawing strength from that of their connection. No longer torn in two, oscillating between the conjured pull of memory and the hymn of the moon, Subaru can also breathe easier.
Though his expression does briefly snag on his scar's latticed intruder. He holds his hand out for it. ]
Nah. Well, it's kind of uncomfortable, but that's just from touching it.
[ this scar, it's probably easy to tell just by looking at it that it hasn't healed so well, but he'll place the latticed fungal growth in subaru's hand anyway if that's what he wants. his fingers linger for just a moment as they brush against his skin. then it's a glance to the ink marking the back of his hand, back to subaru, and choi'll reach that hand around to rest on his opposite shoulder, pulling him a little closer.
his grin starts off bright—proud, even. ]
Anyway, I knew I picked the right guy for the job~
[ Jostled close, Subaru's gaze flicks aside, surprise muted but sincere. There's a comfort in it, the weight of his arm and his warmth and the irreverence of it being work, nothing more and nothing less than that — his fingers close around the piece of growth. It then lowers, finality in that action, too. ]
You can call on me anytime.
[ He nudges into his side. ]
We shouldn't stay here long. It's still not safe.
[ And, in leaving behind the bench, in moving forward, a quiet glyph ignites in his palm, burning the growth to ash in his closed fist. Let it be a warning to the rest of it. ]
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but choi will allow himself to be pulled up to his feet, giving his legs a stretch and suppressing the yawn that gathers in the back of his throat. it wasn't such a bad nap, but now it's time to return to the waking world and all the responsibilities that come with it, right? so once he listens to subaru's explanation, choi will go ahead and reluctantly disentangle their hands himself. his shoulder still brushes against the other's, but he holds his out in front of him to examine it.
so it's that kind of spell, huh. ]
Okie-dokie.
[ as eloquent as ever in these broken, still burning remains of what manhattan had once been, he'll close his eyes. his hand is still held out, fingers splayed, but this isn't such a physical obstacle that he's facing anyway. rather, in the midst of these memories that don't belong to him, their sorrow and their fear and the eerie sense of peace that still licks at his heels, pulling and inviting him closer, there's something specific he's looking for. a lifeline that no longer feels quite so delicate as it once was.
and if choi wraps his hand around it, following it to its source...
it will guide him back to their manhattan, where he opens his eyes to a city no less broken, but now familiar enough to call his own.
the space at their feet and all around them is clear now of the blooms that had been attempting to embrace him in the dream, but his scar itches, and subaru will see it ringed around his neck: the beginnings of a kind of fungal lace. it's still early yet though—nothing that an absent set of fingernails can't dislodge, and choi looks down with an expression of distaste as he examines the remains. ]
Eugh. What the...
[ which is to say: he's probably fine now. ]
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Welcome back.
[ Because Choi is standing here with him now, squarely on the desolate pavement of a red-seethed Manhattan. The one that exists now, the real one — whatever it might count for. His sigil did its job, its ink dark and alive, drawing strength from that of their connection. No longer torn in two, oscillating between the conjured pull of memory and the hymn of the moon, Subaru can also breathe easier.
Though his expression does briefly snag on his scar's latticed intruder. He holds his hand out for it. ]
Does it hurt at all?
no subject
[ this scar, it's probably easy to tell just by looking at it that it hasn't healed so well, but he'll place the latticed fungal growth in subaru's hand anyway if that's what he wants. his fingers linger for just a moment as they brush against his skin. then it's a glance to the ink marking the back of his hand, back to subaru, and choi'll reach that hand around to rest on his opposite shoulder, pulling him a little closer.
his grin starts off bright—proud, even. ]
Anyway, I knew I picked the right guy for the job~
[ before softening a bit. ]
Thanks. Again.
🎀
You can call on me anytime.
[ He nudges into his side. ]
We shouldn't stay here long. It's still not safe.
[ And, in leaving behind the bench, in moving forward, a quiet glyph ignites in his palm, burning the growth to ash in his closed fist. Let it be a warning to the rest of it. ]