((Please feel free to include/leave out any images as you see fit.))
i. ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ - Canto VI Spoilers
[The image in the mirror is little more than a PDA, a bar at the bottom slowly filling from one end to the other. "Clearing all Cathy" it says beneath. The image shakes, though whether it's from the effort of the "clear" or if it's the hand that holds the PDA that's shaking, it's impossible to say.]
ii. The clock turns -- CW: Death, mention of dismemberment, gore, drowning
[Another mirror shows a door etched with intricate carvings, towering impossibly tall, with Dante stood in front of it. The door opens, and countless hands reach out, grasping desperately to a symphony of screams and torment. Dante reaches for one of the hands and pulls.
And then the scene changes to three people strewn out on the floor of a bus, a man and a woman's throat slit, another woman's head all but obliterated. Little by little the blood that flows from them moves back in, muscles and sinew knit back together, bone and skin regrow as if they were always there. And as the those three people rise, the Dante in the mirror writhes in pain, falling to the floor.
Again.
Bodies blown to pieces, offal and limb detached. Time turns backward, and those who perished return to life as Dante struggles to stay standing.
Again.
Twelve bodies, waterlogged and blue, slowly regain their color, gasping for breath as Dante's hands clutch their throat. They writhe as if gasping for air.
And again.
And again.
And again.]
...And the death toll grows ever higher. - CW: Death
[Like with the revivals, there is no consistent image. Scenes pass, over and over and over again, of battles with those same twelve individuals--those twelve who change in garb and weapon and even personality--some alive to continue the fight, some laying dead, but their opponents, frequently man, infrequently monsters, dead and bloodied in their wake.
But the scene never focuses on the battle or its aftermath. Always and ever, Dante is at the center. Always and ever, Dante is at the back, never once raising a weapon of their own.]
[Yuri is no stranger to death. He has seen people die, he has been the source of other's deaths, and he has even taken the life of someone he didn't want to perish. And yet no matter how used he is to seeing blood and the battlefield, the carnage of war and violence still makes his heart twist in anger.
This is no different. He doesn't know who these people are, only the fact that they have met painful, torturous deaths. From whose hands, he does not know. Maybe it didn't matter.
Dante might be at the center of it all, but it is clear to him that they are not the one to blame here. Not when they look like they are suffering themselves, stuck in here watching people die for them over and over again.
Yuri is not from that time or that world. He can't just magically enter these mirror worlds and stop all of these from happening. A part of him, he admits, is frustrated with his incapability to affect of all these things. How worse it could be for Dante, who has seen them with his own two clockhands?
The best Yuri could do is a reassuring pat on the back. Hopefully it snaps them out of whatever keeps them glued at those reflections.]
Yo, boss. [He keeps his tone casual.] Your clockface is looking a bit blue over there.
[The ticking comes quiet, and yet somehow it echoes off the mirrors in the funhouse.
"Funhouse." It's a cruel joke to call it that, given what's being shown for anyone to see.]
< ...It's different, seeing it from a distance like this. Seeing how I look when I turn the clock. Seeing how far away I am while they do the fighting. >
[He can wager his guesses, just from how himself would feel.]
You wish you could join them, but couldn't for some reason, yeah?
[Yuri himself is a man of impatience and action. He wouldn't be able to take something like this, having to watch being able not to do anything.]
From what I could see though, you've been sharing part of the burden yourself. That just means they can do something you can't, and you can do something they can't.
< Still... I can't help but feel as if I should be doing something more. >
[They rely on the Sinners so, so much. What if the day comes that they're the one that needs to be relied upon? What if the day comes that no one knows what to do? What if--
The image shifts. To a tattoed man in a garish, leopard-print cape, golden chains wrapped around him. To Dante's twelve companions dead or dying, and Dante themselves fallen, back pressed against a shipping container covered in a pale, membrane-like substance. Alone. Facing death.]
< ...... >
[They look away from the mirror and back towards Yuri, blocking out their vision. No eyes to close, no one to see that they're not looking.]
< I can't do that trick for you guys, just so you know. If you die, you're dead. >
Someone has to make sure to be around to take them home.
[Yuri's own party has everyone fighting in the forefront. Him, Flynn and Karol charging ahead. Judith taking them down from the skies. Raven and Rita providing attacks from the rear. Estelle and Repede dealing damage and healing both. And then there's Patty, who pretty much just does what she wants. They don't really have someone like Dante, who has to stay out of battle no matter the circumstances.
He may not be unfamiliar with death, but the visions reflected from Dante are very hard to watch. He's familiar with getting stabbed or falling from a cliff, or drowning in quicksand, but all of that feels like a blessing compared to the consistent monstrosities in Dante's past.
Yuri doesn't push for the details. He figures they would be as grim as he can imagine.]
And don't worry about me. [He responds by tapping his sword's sheath over his shoulder.] I don't try to make a habit of dying.
[Dante should probably be more sympathetic. Unfortunately, as Yuri has seen, death and its undoing has become too common a sight for them for that.]
< Huh. That's... I don't know if that's good or bad, actually. >
[They're not about to take any unnecessary risks with this knowledge in hand, but knowing there's a backup just in case...
Is this the kind of relief the Sinners felt when they went into battle?]
< There's got to be a catch. > [Even their own power relied on them feeling the exact same pain the Sinners felt when they died in order to revive them] < Was anything different when you woke up? Anyone acting strange? Strange beyond that virus, I mean. >
Not that I know of. It didn't even hurt, unlike how you seem to suffer everytime you rewind that clock.
[Trust him, that's one of the first things he checked - made sure his memories were intact, did a couple of Artes while sparring, tried his other motor skills - but as far as he knows, he came out of it just fine.]
But knowing this place? I'm sure there's consequences eventually.
[That being said, he does try to judge Dante's reaction to all of that. Sure, the lack of a face makes it hard to see what they feel, but there's other places to look out for: body language and the like.]
That doesn't mean there's nothing you could actually do here, boss. So don't get yourself so down on that too, alright?
[No consequences at first, but with the possibility of consequences in the future. They still don't know how to feel. They can't turn the clock for the others, but it might not be necessary. They're still just left with whatever skills they have as Manager, but that's all they had to begin with, right?]
< It's kind of a relief, actually. Not that I plan to test how that works anytime soon. >
[And they know it's selfish of them to think this way, but the fact that they wouldn't have to go through all that pain even if something did happen...]
< But now I know that if I screw up, I won't be taking you guys down with me. I just... gotta make sure not to do it again if it happens. And make sure nothing happened to you guys as a result. And... Uh... >
[Okay, so there's still a significant amount of pressure there.]
Yeah, I don't recommend it. It's not instantaneous either - apparently I was dead for a few days.
[Yuri shrugs - honestly? It felt like he got it off easy this time. He's so used to his terrible luck that he was expecting something like a lost limb after it.]
C'mon Boss, you gotta hype yourself up better than that. [Maybe a playful nudge against their waist would lift their spirits up?] I hate paperwork, for one. Can't have you dying on me if nobody else is there to do it.
[That's definitely a no-go then. Even if they did have any plans to end up dead (which they don't), leaving a corpse is a very, very bad idea.
The last thing anyone needs is for someone to get their hands on their head.
They let out a couple ticks in approximation of an "oof" when nudged and rub the back of their neck.]
< R-Right. That's definitely going to be a pain if it piles up. > [They're only mostly kidding.] < So I'll try and stay out of you guys's way when things get dangerous. >
< Oh, and... Could you maybe not tell anyone else what you saw? I just don't want anyone to get the wrong idea. You know, thinking that I can do that for anyone. >
[ charles doesn't show up in the mirrors. not that he expected he would — ghosts don't, and so far this place has not been any different. and yet still the maze draws him in, causes him to wander around until he happens upon —
well. his tolerance of graphic deaths is rather high, what with him having dealt with the supernatural for thirty-odd years and the tendency of vengeful ghosts especially to appear while reliving their deaths: so he has seen heads explode, has seen the aftermath of mustard gas, has seen flesh melt and burn and blacken, and yet it never quite grows any easier to witness.
he glances away as bodies are blown up, only to return back to life; when the image shifts into more bodies, this time clearly drowned, charles' own appearance flickers just slightly; one moment, he appears as he is, in his full polo shirt-bomber jacket-overcoat getup, his colour healthy and bright... and the next, he stands only in his white undershirt, his shirt and trousers and hair all wet, his skin with a distinct grey hue to it.
he doesn't see it, of course; why would he? the mirrors keep showing the scenes, over and over and over.
his attention, however, is not on them but the... person who stands in the middle of them. ] Hey, [ he says, quiet, ] You... okay?
[The scenes before them had all begun to blend together. Death, revival, and death again. Turn the clock, take on the pain, try again. They're... used to it. Some injuries they remember the feeling of exactly. Others blended together in a cacophony of pain.
To live those moments is one thing. To watch them, another. Even for those times they and the Sinners look back on and laugh at--the dumb decisions, the missteps, the comedy of errors--there's something about watching themselves writhe about in pain like that, over and over and over again that's almost... disturbing.
A voice cuts through their thoughts, and despite its quiet, it manages to disperse the fog in Dante's mind that that had blinded them to all but the images within the mirror.
They turn and startle, the ticking of their "voice" rapid.]
[ and truly, charles believes he's saying the truth, too — or perhaps fine enough would be closer, or fine compared to what you must feel like. in any case, the echoes of his own death remain unnoticed by him; he's too focused on the person who these... memories? must belong to.
and given their content, well. ] I'm not the one who these things happened to, am I? You... Shit, I'm sorry. For — stumbling on you like this, I guess, I didn't mean to. [ didn't mean to invade their privacy, more like, but then again... if him being here is at least some distraction from the horror in the mirrors, isn't that a good thing? ]
[They glance behind them, flames flickering in the low light, then back to the... very dead-looking young man.]
< I'm... used to it. It's our usual way of fighting things. > [Fight and fight until they find a weakness to exploit, and exploit it. Rewind and redouble the effort. As many times as it takes. Or until Dante themselves--] < Just not used to seeing it from the outside is all. >
[A half-truth. The sight of it all brings up so many thoughts, they don't know where to begin. They can barely sort them all out in their head themselves.]
< But, um, are you sure you're okay? You look a little... >
Your usual way — [ charles can't help his sharp tone of surprise, because that — that is definitely rewinding time, and, ] Bloody hell, does everyone I know have some kind of time-travel powers...?
[ anyway, that aside... the explanation soothes him just a little, but doesn't erase the concern entirely. ] Still, can't be easy, to have to go through something like that over and over again.
[ there is a quiet sympathy in his voice, an i'm sorry you have to keep doing that, because it may be their decision and still suck a lot.
and then the comment makes him blink and glance down at himself, and, ] Fuck. Sorry, hold on a tick — [ he gathers his focus, and in the blink of an eye, his appearance returns to as it had been: full outfit on, skin a healthy hue, hair and clothes no longer wet. and yet he's still just as dead as before, just looks like he's alive. ]
< On the bright side, I've built up a good pain tolerance. >
[They keep their tone light, joking. It's hard not to feel like they have to, seeing the look on this guy's face even after he stops looking like a corpse.
It's easier, they suppose, to worry over others instead of having others worry about them.]
Mate, hate to break it to you, but that's not exactly reassuring.
[ it is... something of a bright side, perhaps, if this really is something they have to keep doing — but the why is what he'd really like to know. he just doesn't feel like he can ask it, not like this.
he gives a small smile back and says, with a sigh, ]
I'm a ghost. Sometimes a ghost can revert back to how they looked when they died. So... [ so that's what happened! fun, moving on... ]
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expiationlogs2024-10-14 08:59 am
BONUS PROMPT -- Hall of Mirrors -- CWs for each mirror image
i. ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ - Canto VI Spoilers
ii. The clock turns -- CW: Death, mention of dismemberment, gore, drowning
...And the death toll grows ever higher. - CW: Death
ii. on both images!
This is no different. He doesn't know who these people are, only the fact that they have met painful, torturous deaths. From whose hands, he does not know. Maybe it didn't matter.
Dante might be at the center of it all, but it is clear to him that they are not the one to blame here. Not when they look like they are suffering themselves, stuck in here watching people die for them over and over again.
Yuri is not from that time or that world. He can't just magically enter these mirror worlds and stop all of these from happening. A part of him, he admits, is frustrated with his incapability to affect of all these things. How worse it could be for Dante, who has seen them with his own two clockhands?
The best Yuri could do is a reassuring pat on the back. Hopefully it snaps them out of whatever keeps them glued at those reflections.]
Yo, boss. [He keeps his tone casual.] Your clockface is looking a bit blue over there.
no subject
[The ticking comes quiet, and yet somehow it echoes off the mirrors in the funhouse.
"Funhouse." It's a cruel joke to call it that, given what's being shown for anyone to see.]
< ...It's different, seeing it from a distance like this. Seeing how I look when I turn the clock. Seeing how far away I am while they do the fighting. >
no subject
You wish you could join them, but couldn't for some reason, yeah?
[Yuri himself is a man of impatience and action. He wouldn't be able to take something like this, having to watch being able not to do anything.]
From what I could see though, you've been sharing part of the burden yourself. That just means they can do something you can't, and you can do something they can't.
no subject
[They rely on the Sinners so, so much. What if the day comes that they're the one that needs to be relied upon? What if the day comes that no one knows what to do? What if--
The image shifts. To a tattoed man in a garish, leopard-print cape, golden chains wrapped around him. To Dante's twelve companions dead or dying, and Dante themselves fallen, back pressed against a shipping container covered in a pale, membrane-like substance. Alone. Facing death.]
< ...... >
[They look away from the mirror and back towards Yuri, blocking out their vision. No eyes to close, no one to see that they're not looking.]
< I can't do that trick for you guys, just so you know. If you die, you're dead. >
1/2
[Yuri's own party has everyone fighting in the forefront. Him, Flynn and Karol charging ahead. Judith taking them down from the skies. Raven and Rita providing attacks from the rear. Estelle and Repede dealing damage and healing both. And then there's Patty, who pretty much just does what she wants. They don't really have someone like Dante, who has to stay out of battle no matter the circumstances.
He may not be unfamiliar with death, but the visions reflected from Dante are very hard to watch. He's familiar with getting stabbed or falling from a cliff, or drowning in quicksand, but all of that feels like a blessing compared to the consistent monstrosities in Dante's past.
Yuri doesn't push for the details. He figures they would be as grim as he can imagine.]
And don't worry about me. [He responds by tapping his sword's sheath over his shoulder.] I don't try to make a habit of dying.
2/2
Besides, you actually do come back to life on your own in here. I might have, uh, died once already.
no subject
< What. >
no subject
Yeah, I got stabbed a few months back. There was this virus that drove some people crazy and caused them to kill indiscrimminately.
[Yuri leaves out the detail that the person who stabbed him also kissed him because they don't need to know that!!]
I was there bleeding out on the floor, but next thing I knew I was on a hospital bed, good as new.
no subject
< Huh. That's... I don't know if that's good or bad, actually. >
[They're not about to take any unnecessary risks with this knowledge in hand, but knowing there's a backup just in case...
Is this the kind of relief the Sinners felt when they went into battle?]
< There's got to be a catch. > [Even their own power relied on them feeling the exact same pain the Sinners felt when they died in order to revive them] < Was anything different when you woke up? Anyone acting strange? Strange beyond that virus, I mean. >
no subject
[Trust him, that's one of the first things he checked - made sure his memories were intact, did a couple of Artes while sparring, tried his other motor skills - but as far as he knows, he came out of it just fine.]
But knowing this place? I'm sure there's consequences eventually.
[That being said, he does try to judge Dante's reaction to all of that. Sure, the lack of a face makes it hard to see what they feel, but there's other places to look out for: body language and the like.]
That doesn't mean there's nothing you could actually do here, boss. So don't get yourself so down on that too, alright?
no subject
< It's kind of a relief, actually. Not that I plan to test how that works anytime soon. >
[And they know it's selfish of them to think this way, but the fact that they wouldn't have to go through all that pain even if something did happen...]
< But now I know that if I screw up, I won't be taking you guys down with me. I just... gotta make sure not to do it again if it happens. And make sure nothing happened to you guys as a result. And... Uh... >
[Okay, so there's still a significant amount of pressure there.]
no subject
[Yuri shrugs - honestly? It felt like he got it off easy this time. He's so used to his terrible luck that he was expecting something like a lost limb after it.]
C'mon Boss, you gotta hype yourself up better than that. [Maybe a playful nudge against their waist would lift their spirits up?] I hate paperwork, for one. Can't have you dying on me if nobody else is there to do it.
no subject
The last thing anyone needs is for someone to get their hands on their head.
They let out a couple ticks in approximation of an "oof" when nudged and rub the back of their neck.]
< R-Right. That's definitely going to be a pain if it piles up. > [They're only mostly kidding.] < So I'll try and stay out of you guys's way when things get dangerous. >
< Oh, and... Could you maybe not tell anyone else what you saw? I just don't want anyone to get the wrong idea. You know, thinking that I can do that for anyone. >
no subject
No worries, I don't think this is something I can just tell anybody, anyway. Bloody deaths aside, this looks...personal.
[There's also the growing concern that, well, at this rate his own demons would start haunting him in these mirrors.]
Besides, I might ask you for the same favor if we don't get out of this hellhole in time.
no subject
[Or so they assume. And anyway, they were meant to be navigating some sort of maze to get through here, right?]
< You wouldn't happen to know where the exit is...? >
no subject
[Don't say that like you're so proud of it, Yuri.]
That being said, it's supposed to be a maze. I'm sure we'd find the exit eventually as long as we keep walking.
[And they better. There's a voice nearby that sounds suspiciously like him and he'd rather not have Dante see him at his worst moments.]
ii the clock turns; hope this is okay!!
well. his tolerance of graphic deaths is rather high, what with him having dealt with the supernatural for thirty-odd years and the tendency of vengeful ghosts especially to appear while reliving their deaths: so he has seen heads explode, has seen the aftermath of mustard gas, has seen flesh melt and burn and blacken, and yet it never quite grows any easier to witness.
he glances away as bodies are blown up, only to return back to life; when the image shifts into more bodies, this time clearly drowned, charles' own appearance flickers just slightly; one moment, he appears as he is, in his full polo shirt-bomber jacket-overcoat getup, his colour healthy and bright... and the next, he stands only in his white undershirt, his shirt and trousers and hair all wet, his skin with a distinct grey hue to it.
he doesn't see it, of course; why would he? the mirrors keep showing the scenes, over and over and over.
his attention, however, is not on them but the... person who stands in the middle of them. ] Hey, [ he says, quiet, ] You... okay?
Perfectly fine!
To live those moments is one thing. To watch them, another. Even for those times they and the Sinners look back on and laugh at--the dumb decisions, the missteps, the comedy of errors--there's something about watching themselves writhe about in pain like that, over and over and over again that's almost... disturbing.
A voice cuts through their thoughts, and despite its quiet, it manages to disperse the fog in Dante's mind that that had blinded them to all but the images within the mirror.
They turn and startle, the ticking of their "voice" rapid.]
< N-Nevermind me, what about you? >
no subject
[ and truly, charles believes he's saying the truth, too — or perhaps fine enough would be closer, or fine compared to what you must feel like. in any case, the echoes of his own death remain unnoticed by him; he's too focused on the person who these... memories? must belong to.
and given their content, well. ] I'm not the one who these things happened to, am I? You... Shit, I'm sorry. For — stumbling on you like this, I guess, I didn't mean to. [ didn't mean to invade their privacy, more like, but then again... if him being here is at least some distraction from the horror in the mirrors, isn't that a good thing? ]
no subject
< I'm... used to it. It's our usual way of fighting things. > [Fight and fight until they find a weakness to exploit, and exploit it. Rewind and redouble the effort. As many times as it takes. Or until Dante themselves--] < Just not used to seeing it from the outside is all. >
[A half-truth. The sight of it all brings up so many thoughts, they don't know where to begin. They can barely sort them all out in their head themselves.]
< But, um, are you sure you're okay? You look a little... >
no subject
[ anyway, that aside... the explanation soothes him just a little, but doesn't erase the concern entirely. ] Still, can't be easy, to have to go through something like that over and over again.
[ there is a quiet sympathy in his voice, an i'm sorry you have to keep doing that, because it may be their decision and still suck a lot.
and then the comment makes him blink and glance down at himself, and, ] Fuck. Sorry, hold on a tick — [ he gathers his focus, and in the blink of an eye, his appearance returns to as it had been: full outfit on, skin a healthy hue, hair and clothes no longer wet. and yet he's still just as dead as before, just looks like he's alive. ]
no subject
[They keep their tone light, joking. It's hard not to feel like they have to, seeing the look on this guy's face even after he stops looking like a corpse.
It's easier, they suppose, to worry over others instead of having others worry about them.]
< But um... What was that? >
no subject
[ it is... something of a bright side, perhaps, if this really is something they have to keep doing — but the why is what he'd really like to know. he just doesn't feel like he can ask it, not like this.
he gives a small smile back and says, with a sigh, ]
I'm a ghost. Sometimes a ghost can revert back to how they looked when they died. So... [ so that's what happened! fun, moving on... ]