Z. Altius (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chimericalclaw) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
expiationlogs2025-04-01 01:45 pm
chimericalclaw) wrote in expiationlogs2025-04-01 01:45 pm
open 🌌 crime of the day: overworking
Who: Altius & you??
Where: clinic; residential district ruins; network; around the city generally
When: immediately after the March event into early April
What: In the wake of monsters, Altius attempts to deal with the consequences.
Warnings: suicidal ideation
⬬ when you lose your self esteem | recovery; mid-late March
[The shade isolates himself as the Black Beast is destroyed—though by that point the wisps of shadow that trail behind him and disappear reveal enough of the man that it would have been obvious, had anyone been there to see him, that the wish to be nothing was losing its hold on him. As the transformation finally fades, Zekarion collapses, burns from light scattered across his body with the most severe of them spreading across his back.
Eventually, someone finds him. After that, he spends nearly a day unconscious.]
A [When he wakes in the clinic it's with panic. A shuddering gasp marks his return to consciousness, and he pays no attention to his injuries as he grasps at his head desperately, as if to make sure it's still there. Amber eyes wide, his sharp gaze darts then to where his mostly-ruined belongings sit on the other side of the room—then, finally, to whoever might be there in the room with him.]
B [Altius politely but firmly declines staying in the clinic more than absolutely necessary, given the circumstances—meaning he isn't there more than a day after waking. Though his burns are unpleasant even after some magical healing, eventually he gets around to convincing whoever might want to keep him there that he's capable of taking care of himself, promising to update anyone concerned about the matter. Really, the thing he ends up more willingly waiting for is a change of clothes—though it's not from his own wardrobe that he ends up dressed. After that, he's taking stock of his salvageable inventory—onyx tie clip, small pouch, wallet and partly-singed notebook—as he prepares to get going.]
⬬ that's when love dies | ruins; mid-late to late March
A [His obvious immediate first stop is... what used to be his house. Or it would have been, had the destruction not been clear two blocks away from it, debris from the collapsed buildings scattered as if from some sort of explosion. His steps slow to a stop before he takes it all in, then—
He laughs. Three seconds of the helpless sound; three seconds of silence as all the energy of it leaves him. His shoulders only sink so far, as if he's holding himself in place, and he only allows himself a brief moment of stillness before he prepares to step through the rubble.]
B [Later, when he's less obviously a mess and more put together, he comes back to continue salvaging what he can. He does more than look through his own home, though; if he happens to spot anyone else also sorting through the destruction, wherever it might be, he's more likely than not to step forward and lend a hand.
And sometimes, in other parts of the city where Altius isn't, a small number of black creatures made of crystal help with the work—though not possessed of any great magic and only rising to most people's waists, their giant jaws of sharp points are good for breaking through debris and making it easier to move.]
⬬ you look like you're bluffing | network, un: altius; end of March
I'm looking into building a new agricultural and general garden space within the city for the Chosen. I have little experience with cultivating plants, so I'm interested in speaking to anyone willing to contribute their expertise or effort. I'll compensate you appropriately.
[It's short and to the point. He doesn't think he needs to explain why.]
⬬ tell me, is it death, you feel | erasure; early April
[Before now, it would have been invisible. But sometimes, as the days go on, he slips.
When will this be over? — I don't want to be here. — What good is any of this doing?
As he thinks this, shadow overtakes whatever he has his hand on—a door, a set of documents, a box, a slab of broken bricks—and before he can register it as much more than a change of color, it disappears entirely, disintegrated into nothing.
Altius freezes. His expression blanks, the only thing remaining there intensity. The tremor in his posture might speak to the internal battle for control that he's waging over himself.]
⬬ that will bring you peace of life? | wildcard
[Altius contacts those he works with in order to check up on them specifically, and those who answered his call for volunteers to compensate them as promised. As for those the shade encountered... he's slightly less direct, seeking them out physically in what he thinks to be their general haunts to test if they're even amenable to his approach. With his home destroyed and the city in some disarray, there's no real guarantee of stopping by somewhere and seeing him.
He may have seemed to have an impressive work ethic before, but at this stage it wouldn't be mistaken to consider his constant movement unhealthy. Even to those who didn't speak to him as a shadow, it's clear that something is off about him, a stiffness in his demeanor, especially after his discovery of his new ability—when he stops openly gesturing and offering the physical reassurance he usually does, and pointedly keeps hands to himself.
ooc: Anything else? Hit me up at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
lumieresdedragon or PWM!]
Where: clinic; residential district ruins; network; around the city generally
When: immediately after the March event into early April
What: In the wake of monsters, Altius attempts to deal with the consequences.
Warnings: suicidal ideation
⬬ when you lose your self esteem | recovery; mid-late March
[The shade isolates himself as the Black Beast is destroyed—though by that point the wisps of shadow that trail behind him and disappear reveal enough of the man that it would have been obvious, had anyone been there to see him, that the wish to be nothing was losing its hold on him. As the transformation finally fades, Zekarion collapses, burns from light scattered across his body with the most severe of them spreading across his back.
Eventually, someone finds him. After that, he spends nearly a day unconscious.]
A [When he wakes in the clinic it's with panic. A shuddering gasp marks his return to consciousness, and he pays no attention to his injuries as he grasps at his head desperately, as if to make sure it's still there. Amber eyes wide, his sharp gaze darts then to where his mostly-ruined belongings sit on the other side of the room—then, finally, to whoever might be there in the room with him.]
B [Altius politely but firmly declines staying in the clinic more than absolutely necessary, given the circumstances—meaning he isn't there more than a day after waking. Though his burns are unpleasant even after some magical healing, eventually he gets around to convincing whoever might want to keep him there that he's capable of taking care of himself, promising to update anyone concerned about the matter. Really, the thing he ends up more willingly waiting for is a change of clothes—though it's not from his own wardrobe that he ends up dressed. After that, he's taking stock of his salvageable inventory—onyx tie clip, small pouch, wallet and partly-singed notebook—as he prepares to get going.]
⬬ that's when love dies | ruins; mid-late to late March
A [His obvious immediate first stop is... what used to be his house. Or it would have been, had the destruction not been clear two blocks away from it, debris from the collapsed buildings scattered as if from some sort of explosion. His steps slow to a stop before he takes it all in, then—
He laughs. Three seconds of the helpless sound; three seconds of silence as all the energy of it leaves him. His shoulders only sink so far, as if he's holding himself in place, and he only allows himself a brief moment of stillness before he prepares to step through the rubble.]
B [Later, when he's less obviously a mess and more put together, he comes back to continue salvaging what he can. He does more than look through his own home, though; if he happens to spot anyone else also sorting through the destruction, wherever it might be, he's more likely than not to step forward and lend a hand.
And sometimes, in other parts of the city where Altius isn't, a small number of black creatures made of crystal help with the work—though not possessed of any great magic and only rising to most people's waists, their giant jaws of sharp points are good for breaking through debris and making it easier to move.]
⬬ you look like you're bluffing | network, un: altius; end of March
I'm looking into building a new agricultural and general garden space within the city for the Chosen. I have little experience with cultivating plants, so I'm interested in speaking to anyone willing to contribute their expertise or effort. I'll compensate you appropriately.
[It's short and to the point. He doesn't think he needs to explain why.]
⬬ tell me, is it death, you feel | erasure; early April
[Before now, it would have been invisible. But sometimes, as the days go on, he slips.
When will this be over? — I don't want to be here. — What good is any of this doing?
As he thinks this, shadow overtakes whatever he has his hand on—a door, a set of documents, a box, a slab of broken bricks—and before he can register it as much more than a change of color, it disappears entirely, disintegrated into nothing.
Altius freezes. His expression blanks, the only thing remaining there intensity. The tremor in his posture might speak to the internal battle for control that he's waging over himself.]
⬬ that will bring you peace of life? | wildcard
[Altius contacts those he works with in order to check up on them specifically, and those who answered his call for volunteers to compensate them as promised. As for those the shade encountered... he's slightly less direct, seeking them out physically in what he thinks to be their general haunts to test if they're even amenable to his approach. With his home destroyed and the city in some disarray, there's no real guarantee of stopping by somewhere and seeing him.
He may have seemed to have an impressive work ethic before, but at this stage it wouldn't be mistaken to consider his constant movement unhealthy. Even to those who didn't speak to him as a shadow, it's clear that something is off about him, a stiffness in his demeanor, especially after his discovery of his new ability—when he stops openly gesturing and offering the physical reassurance he usually does, and pointedly keeps hands to himself.
ooc: Anything else? Hit me up at
no subject
Altius lets out a breath as a voiced sigh.]
Rest is an important part of any recovery, [he agrees, not bothering to put his usual energy into his voice. He turns his gaze back to Tsuna.] But there are still things we can do without straining ourselves. Which is why you're here, isn't it?
no subject
[And maybe that's clearing debris, maybe that's telling his boss to go back to bed.]
Even if there's a little thing to get started on, it's something, right?
no subject
[You can tell a horse to go to bed, but you can't make it sleep.]
Don't worry too much about the post office for now. When we're all exhausted, it's best to prioritize helping each other survive. This will all be here after that's secure.
no subject
If we're still recovering, the mail can wait a bit. I don't know how much everyone's trying to send anything.
[Though he can still run messages, if that needs to be done.]
no subject
[If he can't be reliable, he'd consider it justified to remove him or otherwise take away his businesses—if there were anyone who could do so.]
I'm certainly not in a rush to restore all our services, but I'd be a poor boss if I didn't make sure everything was in place.
no subject
Well, at least let me help with something, then.
no subject
[He's not about to refuse the offer; since Tsuna is asking, he can offer a few low-energy tasks that are nevertheless important.]
Why don't you grab one of the larger mail bags and meet me upstairs? Better to make sure no rain gets inside while we're trying to get everything else done.
no subject
[He can probably manage that much. And he seems to brighten up at the prospect of being able to help out.]
What are we going to do with it?
no subject
[Altius leaves him with that as he turns to head up the stairs. He'll have to grab a few things himself on the way to the damaged wall. Stepladder, scissors—ah.]
There should be a hammer and nails somewhere in the supply closet down here, if you could grab those as well.
no subject
Sure.
[Even though this isn't his forte. But he manages to find the hammer and nails with little difficulty or mishap. Which, is a promising thing. Maybe this won't go as bad as he hopes.]
You think this will be enough to cover the hole?
no subject
It will do for a temporary fix, I think.
[Certainly the best they could manage with what they have on hand. He'd rather not waste the time or resources to go find something "proper" when the rest of town is even worse off, and there's no telling what mishaps might occur next.
With the makeshift tarp in hand, he climbs the ladder. That and his height make it an easy task to reach the damaged spot.]
Hand me the hammer and a nail, please.
no subject
[He says, passing over the items. It's a slightly empty offer because he knows he will probably hurt himself. Most likely hitting his thumb with the hammer.]
no subject
Have you done much home improvement?
no subject
N-not a whole lot. Usually I'm trying to prevent destruction.
no subject
Mmhmm. [And he gets to hammering.] Around here it's a good set of skills to have, and there are more than enough chances to learn.
[Just... not here. Start with something a bit closer to the ground—and less valuable to Altius, probably.]
no subject
[If he could just avoid making a mess.]
Never know when the next big thing is going to happen after all.
no subject
[With the first done, he holds his hand out for another nail.]
I do recommend giving it a try. You could start small—a birdhouse or something like that?
no subject
[And the nail is offered.]
I guess I could try. I just, haven't had much luck with any sort of project like that.
no subject
[These silly shounen heroes. Meanwhile, he'll continue preparing for the worst.]
What have you tried so far?
no subject
[He's got a lot to be thankful for these days.]
Uh, well, um, usually stuff models and Gunpla, but I usually end up breaking or losing a key part. And I can count on at least something bandaged if I use a Hammer and nails.
[He's not really making much of a case. Such is the life of a Tsuna.]
no subject
Clumsiness can be overcome with the right precautions. And some supervision. [He just has to learn! ... but he thinks of a certain other young man who enjoys building things and pauses.]
What sort of models? [He doesn't know what Gunpla is, he's an American CEO. Have mercy.]
no subject
Gunpla? Gundam models?
They're like, giant robots. At least in the anime. The models are a lot smaller.
no subject
Ah. [Okay, giant robots, sure. He knows those—Transformers was big when he was a kid, even if it wasn't something he ever got into.]
I'd have to wonder what you're doing working for me if you'd managed to build the full size sort. [They could probably use some giant robots. He's thinking more often about creating his own giant monsters to control the more the days go on, honestly.]
Did you just try them because you liked the show?
no subject
[In a lot of different ways, but his engineers are the best and he trusts them.]
But yeah, I did. They're really cool.
no subject
[Although his mind threatens to drift off towards topics that have no real bearing here—what good is it to think of his ward at this moment?—he remains focused on the task at hand until he's finally nailed up the last corner of the bag. He pauses a moment to judge his own work before turning his attention back to Tsuna.]
What do you think you are best with, then?
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