getting hit by the glass hurts, but honestly? pain is not something owner is a stranger to, so he doesn't let that slow him down as he runs. he catches sight of rei in the distance, and the image of the young man just makes owner laugh. yes, just keep going, don't let something this minor get in your way, rei.
he just keeps going out, using the katana to try to slash at any vines that come close to him. and remember how he has powers back? he does! sometimes, your strength stat on your ic profile is insanely low only because you are nerfed, and it is quite the opposite when you are not. he will use the arm that's not holding onto the sword to try to just rip apart what tries to go after him, although obviously it will be faulty considering the connection comes and goes but.
he is going for that stupid heartseed that brought them here in the goddamn first place. fuck off. they did not go to the worst party ever to leave with nothing. ]
[ what's a little pain when you already feel nothing?
you didn't think that. but you do, at the same time. your lungs burn, but your body rebels against it. thorns and briars on the vines rip towards you, but conviction to get to the end might be enough. maybe it'll be enough.
maybe you'll feel something.
owner runs into the vines, and cuts through them. they keep coming, but his strength is enough - tentative and unstable as it is - to at least get him through part of the way. there's no more thrum, no heartbeat pulse, to follow any longer. but there's a cascade of pollen and spores that cause his blood red clothing to shimmer and shine, iridescent as a butterfly's wing. all around him are past prospects that have succumbed to the Blossoming Ceremony, aged and twisted, older and older as he goes in. the wind whips around him, causing the true hanging gardens to sway in the trees.
everywhere he looks, there is a faint glow speckled throughout the plantlife. blossomed flowers, the anguished stares and wordless, open-mouthed cries of the damned. empty of life. hollow.
[ the thought comes so out of left field that it almost makes him pause. only almost, since he knows if he slows down he'll likely get overtaken. is it a side effect of being here? no, that's not important. he ignores it.
he keeps going, slashing at everything, trying to find whatever it is that's causing all of this to go so haywire. he hears temenos on the earpiece, and he will try to add, ]
Hoshino-sama went into one of the tunnels, Adrastea-sama!
[ he has a ship! owner is not sure what the current state of that tunnel is, but kazuki has not responded to any of the calls, so something might be wrong. he thinks about how he let kazuki run off without him, and how that was another failure on his part. again and again.
for now, he will desperately keep trying to move deeper into the trees. ]
[ adrastea swears softly in the chaos, wind still loud. between temenos and owner, they get the message. ] Got it. I'll see what I can do - everybody get your helmets on.
[ and that's it. they haven't realized owner has run off, because they can barely see anything down below.
but owner keeps going. will you feel something if he dies, too?
over the rush of the vines, the way the katana cuts through them, hacking and slashing and slicing, owner will hear the sound of
a whistling through the trees. it isn't musical. the wind, playing through old bones. ]
[ the confirmation of adrastea saying they'll go after kazuki relaxes owner a bit as he keeps moving, almost mechanically, as he tries to ignore the voice while he goes deeper and deeper into the garden. but then it speaks again, and at first owner wonder if it's talking about kazuki, since that was the last person he was focused on.
and then there's the noise.
have you ever known the sound of something so well, so intimately, that you can recognize it when hell is breaking loose around you? that actually is enough to make him stop running, for just a second, before he hastily continues, awkwardly cutting at more vines as he regains his pace.
what? no. that doesn't make sense. but rei is here, too. no, this is all fake. why did he care this much if it's fake? no, no, it can't be. just keep going for the heartseed.
owner just keeps running, but the way he looks around as he goes is a little more crazed now. ]
the wind whips past him as he runs, but stopping doesn't do him any favors. a vine goes to snag him by the leg, and another one tries to wrap around his arm, while a third tries to fashion itself like a noose around his neck.
will this end in disaster, too?
will you feel something anything nothing nothing you empty thing with no name
it's not a song, but it could almost be a melody, a lover's token as the whistling continues in the distance of the trees. ]
he tries to stab the vine that's on his leg, since he needs to keep moving and he won't get too far with that on there. if he's able to, after, he will try to get the one that's wrapping around his arm too. his order of priority is probably bad but he only has one free hand to work with. the last will be the one around his neck, if he's able to.
he's almost there, he tells himself. just a little bit more, even though owner doesn't actually know how much further he has to go, or even how far he has moved away from the others. if adrastea can get the rest of them back onto the ship then... then at least something went right.
he tries to get the vines off so he can keep moving. to the whistling. ]
[ the vine around his leg is cut off, but the one around his arm tightens, winding around it until it's hard to move. it's enough to get a slice into the one around his neck, to weaken it.
but if he runs with the one around his arm, he'll feel the strain of it in his shoulder. he can keep going, can follow the familiar call onwards - but there's a cost to every choice you make, owner.
have you given it some thought?
the flowers in the trees, on the hearts of the damned, twinkle like starlight in the dark depths of the gardens, and the wind continues to whistle as if leading him onwards.
not that a name will fix anything when all you are is nothingness
[ he knows, and he tries to will his mind to go into silence as he keeps trying to move forward. he can't get the vine off of his arm-- fine. owner decides he does not need an arm, so he keeps moving, even as the plant wraps around the limb.
does this stupid planet think this can stop him? owner has known failure, and he has been late, but he will still get there in the end. he will see him. that is the one thing he refuses to budge out, to not be there at the conclusion of it all, every time.
he continues to try to fight off any other vines that try to go after him, while trying to ignore the pain in his arm as he goes. this is nothing. he can keep going. this is all nothing. keep going, he has to reach his goal at some point as long as he does not stop moving. ]
[ the price is paid, as it always is. owner knows far better than most, in all these many years.
the strain turns into a pop of bone in the socket, and then the burn of tearing ligaments, before it is the tearing of flesh, of a vessel that has been nothing but useless meat for the past two weeks.
the blood red of his outfit is stained a deeper red, and the sleeve tears like nothing as the arm is left behind. thorns have cut into his skin - his leg, up towards his shoulder where the arm once was, around his neck - but it's trivial in the face of determination.
ahead, there is a light. it's deceptively soft, but he'll be able to feel the Otherness coming from it the same as he'll feel a call. something reaching out to him, trying to draw him in. ]
[ when the arm rips off, there is a relieved thought of finally, because that vine was really slowing him down, and the shock of losing limbs is not unfamiliar to him. the pain is there, screaming throughout his body, burning like the pollen had been in his lungs, but the sensation is something he knows so well that it lets owner keep going. sort of like greeting an old friend, in a twisted way.
there is a thought that runs through his head-- this might be some kind of trap, he could be running into an even worse problem than what's already around him. it's a little too late to have doubts now, though, so owner continues to press on, trying so hard to reach what's waiting out there as his blood trails behind him. he thinks about fixing the arm problem, but decides to hold off on it for now just in case he needs to conserve his energy for something else. it's fine. who needs blood!! not him!!!
the light... is yellow, a sweet and simple yellow. and it's in the center of a writhing mass of vines and thorns, the gaps where they don't overlap letting it peek out. the whistling is coming from within, a sound of longing, now, as the wind slips through every fold and over hidden bones.
so close to the epicenter, it's like being close to the eye of a hurricane. the temperature has dropped, and the vines are even more aggressive.
there's not much else to do but keep going, as always. he takes in the sight of it all, only pausing long enough to try to figure out where there might be more of a gap in the mess so that he can run towards that spot in particular, if it exists.
middle of the road luck means that there's a path, but at another cost. the vines are barbed and lethal, and as he throws himself into the fray of them, the beautiful outfit that he donned is shredded up along his arm, his torso, his legs. he has to hold onto the sword to be able to keep it, as he's thrown into a veritable blender.
but then
it's just quiet.
him, and the glow, and the faint whistling of sasaki's bones. trapped inside the vortex of green and death. ]
[ damn really hoping everyone else is having a neat time
at first, he tries to regenerate some of the injuries when it starts to get a bit too much, allowing skin to reform and stitch back together, but once he realizes that the same healed skin will just get cut by more thorns, he gives up the idea. that's okay. he think about his injuries later, when he has the time to spare for it all.
but then it's quiet. and honestly, there really isn't much that gets owner to falter. he has been alive for more years imaginable, and he has seen empires rise and fall and be replaced by others that also rise and fall. but one thing that always does is that boy, and he can't help but look around in a too desperate attempt to find the source of the whistling.
sasaki's bones are just that - there is no head in sight, no flesh, just that familiar torso that you would recognize across years, decades, centuries. it's wrapped up in vines, barely suspended above the ground, and that's where the glow comes from.
line the vines grew into the bones, wove their way through, and allowed a luxurious flower to grow and blossom within the cradle of his ribcage. ]
[ the tone is chipper, and since he is alone here, he allows the warmth to seep through, a gentle fondness that stands contradictory to his existence. as if they just bumped into each other on the street, and not in the eye of a hurricane. as if the last time owner had seen sasaki, it was when he had his hands wrapped around his neck.
but that doesn't matter right now.
he will hobble over, ignoring the pain that each step strikes him with, until he is close enough to touch the curious sight. and he does. owner drops the sword unceremoniously onto the ground, and he reaches out to place a hand onto the familiar bones. he lets his fingers trace over the ribcage, leaving traces of his own blood on the bone. they go well together, he thinks. ]
I seem to be late again, hm? I'll have to find a nice spot to bury you, my friend.
[ there's a pause, and he will reach through the bones to grab onto the flower. ]
[ like warm honey, the sensation of want and beckoning and wholeness pours over owner's fingers and up his intact arm. it oozes all the way into his core, seeking to fill all the empty parts of him. welcoming him to accept what it has to offer him.
unity. belonging. it has all the world to give, if only he would return its embrace and join this world that it has to offer him.
sasaki has nothing to say to him, like this. the whistling of his bones is the only answer that owner has, but his blood is beautiful and stark against the white of his rib bones.
inside of them, the flower petals are delicate, thick with pollen. ]
[ me, oocly: huh this flower is kinda fucked up owner, icly: huh this flower is kinda fucked up
the sensation is-- unexpected, but at this point, literally what part of this mission has been expected. and it's pleasant, almost soothing in a way, to listen to its call. somewhere to belong, with the world, and everyone else here.
of course, it's all a lie though. just looking around at the devastation here, and at the bones in front of him, is enough to prove that. ]
Ah, I wish I could have learned more about you... this place must have so many secrets.
[ yeah it's kinda fucked up! the lorax's stache... who could have done this...
there's a flare of warmth, when he speaks, before it starts to turn molten hot when his fingers curl. the gentle welcome lashes out the moment that it seems to realize what's happening - but it's too late. owner crushes it in his hand, feels a hard, stone-like (unless..?) pit, a seed, at its center.
crushing the flower is enough, though. the whistling through the bones has stopped, before the entire eye of the storm convulses.
and then, abruptly, the winding vines come crashing inwards in something reminiscent of an implosion with owner at the center of it. the pressure of the vines, the stabbing thorns, come crashing down upon him and sasaki's bones. the overgrowth grinds together as it trying to compact itself as tightly as possible, bringing him with them.
at least you'll be here together with him again. ]
[ well, this is fine. this is also a top tier final utena episode moment actually so thank you
a few thoughts run through owner's mind very quickly, so fast that they sort of blur into each other, but they are as follows:
the first, is that he realizes the others do not know where he is. some of they might have seen him run into the garden, but he would not be surprised if they missed it because of how chaotic it had been. even if they did see, they wouldn't know where he went in there. and with a missing arm, and the other hand holding onto this seed as everything forms around him, he realizes he probably missed his chance to see anything into the earpiece. he isn't even sure if he can speak, with the vines twisting everywhere.
the second is that he wonders where rei went, and if he managed to get out safely. it's a silly thought, he's aware, because like temenos said, there is a good chance that was some sort of trick. after all, rei just very recently lost half a leg, partly due to owner's meddling with his family affairs. and there is always the chance he somehow got it back, or some sort of replacement, but... in case rei didn't manage to escape, it is better to imagine that it wasn't real.
the third, and the most overpowering, is the pain. there is nothing that doesn't hurt. and he is used to agony, he is used to being ripped apart and his bones shattering and the sensation of having to reform every tissue and muscle and organ to put himself back together again, but that's when he is at his full capacity in power. now, it's just a fleeting connection to it that comes and goes, and while her extraordinary strength is the only reason he managed to get this far, it's currently not doing enough.
and, last, is the content feeling of having sasaki's bones pressed against him, because sometimes you can find solace in the smallest of things as you are crushed. ]
[ it's like a warm embrace, as the light of the flower dies out and the energy of the gardens, of verdure, is released. sasaki's bones are crushed into owner's chest, his arm, and it's like the first time all over again - sasaki, alone in the woods, hiding away from the world to hide his secret from those that would see him a monster.
but what a splendid thing he's always been.
the vines twist, winding together like the snakes that have been sent after you time and time again. but they also twist and grind your body and the bones, warping parts of your flesh in different directions and tearing into it. pulling your bones apart from joints.
the last, wonderful thought you get to have is that you will be together again with sasaki, entombed with him in the forest, side by side. your crimson blood on his white bones.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
getting hit by the glass hurts, but honestly? pain is not something owner is a stranger to, so he doesn't let that slow him down as he runs. he catches sight of rei in the distance, and the image of the young man just makes owner laugh. yes, just keep going, don't let something this minor get in your way, rei.
he just keeps going out, using the katana to try to slash at any vines that come close to him. and remember how he has powers back? he does! sometimes, your strength stat on your ic profile is insanely low only because you are nerfed, and it is quite the opposite when you are not. he will use the arm that's not holding onto the sword to try to just rip apart what tries to go after him, although obviously it will be faulty considering the connection comes and goes but.
he is going for that stupid heartseed that brought them here in the goddamn first place. fuck off. they did not go to the worst party ever to leave with nothing. ]
no subject
you didn't think that. but you do, at the same time. your lungs burn, but your body rebels against it. thorns and briars on the vines rip towards you, but conviction to get to the end might be enough. maybe it'll be enough.
maybe you'll feel something.
owner runs into the vines, and cuts through them. they keep coming, but his strength is enough - tentative and unstable as it is - to at least get him through part of the way. there's no more thrum, no heartbeat pulse, to follow any longer. but there's a cascade of pollen and spores that cause his blood red clothing to shimmer and shine, iridescent as a butterfly's wing. all around him are past prospects that have succumbed to the Blossoming Ceremony, aged and twisted, older and older as he goes in. the wind whips around him, causing the true hanging gardens to sway in the trees.
everywhere he looks, there is a faint glow speckled throughout the plantlife. blossomed flowers, the anguished stares and wordless, open-mouthed cries of the damned. empty of life. hollow.
you're not so different. ]
no subject
he keeps going, slashing at everything, trying to find whatever it is that's causing all of this to go so haywire. he hears temenos on the earpiece, and he will try to add, ]
Hoshino-sama went into one of the tunnels, Adrastea-sama!
[ he has a ship! owner is not sure what the current state of that tunnel is, but kazuki has not responded to any of the calls, so something might be wrong. he thinks about how he let kazuki run off without him, and how that was another failure on his part. again and again.
for now, he will desperately keep trying to move deeper into the trees. ]
no subject
[ and that's it. they haven't realized owner has run off, because they can barely see anything down below.
but owner keeps going. will you feel something if he dies, too?
over the rush of the vines, the way the katana cuts through them, hacking and slashing and slicing, owner will hear the sound of
a whistling through the trees. it isn't musical. the wind, playing through old bones. ]
no subject
and then there's the noise.
have you ever known the sound of something so well, so intimately, that you can recognize it when hell is breaking loose around you? that actually is enough to make him stop running, for just a second, before he hastily continues, awkwardly cutting at more vines as he regains his pace.
what? no. that doesn't make sense. but rei is here, too. no, this is all fake. why did he care this much if it's fake? no, no, it can't be. just keep going for the heartseed.
owner just keeps running, but the way he looks around as he goes is a little more crazed now. ]
no subject
the wind whips past him as he runs, but stopping doesn't do him any favors. a vine goes to snag him by the leg, and another one tries to wrap around his arm, while a third tries to fashion itself like a noose around his neck.
will this end in disaster, too?
will you feel something anything nothing nothing you empty thing with no name
it's not a song, but it could almost be a melody, a lover's token as the whistling continues in the distance of the trees. ]
no subject
he tries to stab the vine that's on his leg, since he needs to keep moving and he won't get too far with that on there. if he's able to, after, he will try to get the one that's wrapping around his arm too. his order of priority is probably bad but he only has one free hand to work with. the last will be the one around his neck, if he's able to.
he's almost there, he tells himself. just a little bit more, even though owner doesn't actually know how much further he has to go, or even how far he has moved away from the others. if adrastea can get the rest of them back onto the ship then... then at least something went right.
he tries to get the vines off so he can keep moving. to the whistling. ]
no subject
but if he runs with the one around his arm, he'll feel the strain of it in his shoulder. he can keep going, can follow the familiar call onwards - but there's a cost to every choice you make, owner.
have you given it some thought?
the flowers in the trees, on the hearts of the damned, twinkle like starlight in the dark depths of the gardens, and the wind continues to whistle as if leading him onwards.
not that a name will fix anything when all you are is nothingness
you won't reach him
you'll be too late too late too late again
embrace the nothing that you are ]
no subject
[ he knows, and he tries to will his mind to go into silence as he keeps trying to move forward. he can't get the vine off of his arm-- fine. owner decides he does not need an arm, so he keeps moving, even as the plant wraps around the limb.
does this stupid planet think this can stop him? owner has known failure, and he has been late, but he will still get there in the end. he will see him. that is the one thing he refuses to budge out, to not be there at the conclusion of it all, every time.
he continues to try to fight off any other vines that try to go after him, while trying to ignore the pain in his arm as he goes. this is nothing. he can keep going. this is all nothing. keep going, he has to reach his goal at some point as long as he does not stop moving. ]
no subject
the strain turns into a pop of bone in the socket, and then the burn of tearing ligaments, before it is the tearing of flesh, of a vessel that has been nothing but useless meat for the past two weeks.
the blood red of his outfit is stained a deeper red, and the sleeve tears like nothing as the arm is left behind. thorns have cut into his skin - his leg, up towards his shoulder where the arm once was, around his neck - but it's trivial in the face of determination.
ahead, there is a light. it's deceptively soft, but he'll be able to feel the Otherness coming from it the same as he'll feel a call. something reaching out to him, trying to draw him in. ]
no subject
there is a thought that runs through his head-- this might be some kind of trap, he could be running into an even worse problem than what's already around him. it's a little too late to have doubts now, though, so owner continues to press on, trying so hard to reach what's waiting out there as his blood trails behind him. he thinks about fixing the arm problem, but decides to hold off on it for now just in case he needs to conserve his energy for something else. it's fine. who needs blood!! not him!!!
what's that light ]
no subject
the light... is yellow, a sweet and simple yellow. and it's in the center of a writhing mass of vines and thorns, the gaps where they don't overlap letting it peek out. the whistling is coming from within, a sound of longing, now, as the wind slips through every fold and over hidden bones.
so close to the epicenter, it's like being close to the eye of a hurricane. the temperature has dropped, and the vines are even more aggressive.
roll to do some sick shit, or eat shit. ]
no subject
there's not much else to do but keep going, as always. he takes in the sight of it all, only pausing long enough to try to figure out where there might be more of a gap in the mess so that he can run towards that spot in particular, if it exists.
really just fuckin yolo ]
no subject
middle of the road luck means that there's a path, but at another cost. the vines are barbed and lethal, and as he throws himself into the fray of them, the beautiful outfit that he donned is shredded up along his arm, his torso, his legs. he has to hold onto the sword to be able to keep it, as he's thrown into a veritable blender.
but then
it's just quiet.
him, and the glow, and the faint whistling of sasaki's bones. trapped inside the vortex of green and death. ]
no subject
at first, he tries to regenerate some of the injuries when it starts to get a bit too much, allowing skin to reform and stitch back together, but once he realizes that the same healed skin will just get cut by more thorns, he gives up the idea. that's okay. he think about his injuries later, when he has the time to spare for it all.
but then it's quiet. and honestly, there really isn't much that gets owner to falter. he has been alive for more years imaginable, and he has seen empires rise and fall and be replaced by others that also rise and fall. but one thing that always does is that boy, and he can't help but look around in a too desperate attempt to find the source of the whistling.
wait. focus.
owner will try to go for the glow. ]
no subject
the glow and the whistling are in the same place.
the bad news?
sasaki's bones are just that - there is no head in sight, no flesh, just that familiar torso that you would recognize across years, decades, centuries. it's wrapped up in vines, barely suspended above the ground, and that's where the glow comes from.
line the vines grew into the bones, wove their way through, and allowed a luxurious flower to grow and blossom within the cradle of his ribcage. ]
no subject
[ the tone is chipper, and since he is alone here, he allows the warmth to seep through, a gentle fondness that stands contradictory to his existence. as if they just bumped into each other on the street, and not in the eye of a hurricane. as if the last time owner had seen sasaki, it was when he had his hands wrapped around his neck.
but that doesn't matter right now.
he will hobble over, ignoring the pain that each step strikes him with, until he is close enough to touch the curious sight. and he does. owner drops the sword unceremoniously onto the ground, and he reaches out to place a hand onto the familiar bones. he lets his fingers trace over the ribcage, leaving traces of his own blood on the bone. they go well together, he thinks. ]
I seem to be late again, hm? I'll have to find a nice spot to bury you, my friend.
[ there's a pause, and he will reach through the bones to grab onto the flower. ]
no subject
unity. belonging. it has all the world to give, if only he would return its embrace and join this world that it has to offer him.
sasaki has nothing to say to him, like this. the whistling of his bones is the only answer that owner has, but his blood is beautiful and stark against the white of his rib bones.
inside of them, the flower petals are delicate, thick with pollen. ]
no subject
owner, icly: huh this flower is kinda fucked up
the sensation is-- unexpected, but at this point, literally what part of this mission has been expected. and it's pleasant, almost soothing in a way, to listen to its call. somewhere to belong, with the world, and everyone else here.
of course, it's all a lie though. just looking around at the devastation here, and at the bones in front of him, is enough to prove that. ]
Ah, I wish I could have learned more about you... this place must have so many secrets.
[ what a waste.
he crushes the flower in his fist.
(they never said they couldn't damage it.) ]
no subject
there's a flare of warmth, when he speaks, before it starts to turn molten hot when his fingers curl. the gentle welcome lashes out the moment that it seems to realize what's happening - but it's too late. owner crushes it in his hand, feels a hard, stone-like (unless..?) pit, a seed, at its center.
crushing the flower is enough, though. the whistling through the bones has stopped, before the entire eye of the storm convulses.
and then, abruptly, the winding vines come crashing inwards in something reminiscent of an implosion with owner at the center of it. the pressure of the vines, the stabbing thorns, come crashing down upon him and sasaki's bones. the overgrowth grinds together as it trying to compact itself as tightly as possible, bringing him with them.
at least you'll be here together with him again. ]
no subject
a few thoughts run through owner's mind very quickly, so fast that they sort of blur into each other, but they are as follows:
the first, is that he realizes the others do not know where he is. some of they might have seen him run into the garden, but he would not be surprised if they missed it because of how chaotic it had been. even if they did see, they wouldn't know where he went in there. and with a missing arm, and the other hand holding onto this seed as everything forms around him, he realizes he probably missed his chance to see anything into the earpiece. he isn't even sure if he can speak, with the vines twisting everywhere.
the second is that he wonders where rei went, and if he managed to get out safely. it's a silly thought, he's aware, because like temenos said, there is a good chance that was some sort of trick. after all, rei just very recently lost half a leg, partly due to owner's meddling with his family affairs. and there is always the chance he somehow got it back, or some sort of replacement, but... in case rei didn't manage to escape, it is better to imagine that it wasn't real.
the third, and the most overpowering, is the pain. there is nothing that doesn't hurt. and he is used to agony, he is used to being ripped apart and his bones shattering and the sensation of having to reform every tissue and muscle and organ to put himself back together again, but that's when he is at his full capacity in power. now, it's just a fleeting connection to it that comes and goes, and while her extraordinary strength is the only reason he managed to get this far, it's currently not doing enough.
and, last, is the content feeling of having sasaki's bones pressed against him, because sometimes you can find solace in the smallest of things as you are crushed. ]
no subject
but what a splendid thing he's always been.
the vines twist, winding together like the snakes that have been sent after you time and time again. but they also twist and grind your body and the bones, warping parts of your flesh in different directions and tearing into it. pulling your bones apart from joints.
the last, wonderful thought you get to have is that you will be together again with sasaki, entombed with him in the forest, side by side. your crimson blood on his white bones.
owner is dead. ]