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
That makes two of us, [he mutters.]
no subject
That disappointment isn't going away at all, a small part of Scott internally twisting as he stares up at him with a frown, like he wants to take back some of the shit he said earlier. It's too late though. So, he just firms his mouth, swallowing back anything else, and watches as Altius starts to turn away from him. He'll just do better.....
He rubs his eyes once more, staying quiet with his unsettling feelings. Until.]
...What about you? [Tone starting a little accusatory, though it shifts into something solemn. Like he's worried.] Don't you have something to talk about? Your wish.
no subject
What about it? [His response is dull; he manages to prevent himself from expressing any defensiveness, but perhaps that's just because he doesn't feel defensive about it—only that anybody else heard him admit it.] It caught me at a low moment.
no subject
[Then those wishes become highly exaggerated, corrupted even. But they can't force someone to feel something that they didn't already feel to some degree. So Altius asking Scott to kill him......
He frowns at the older man's back. Yeah, he's definitely focusing on this now. It's easier for him in a sense, focusing on others instead of admitting his own faults. They talked plenty about him anyway. And he genuinely is worried about the businessman, has anyone checked on him?]
Is it really just that? Being caught in a low moment? [Some doubt floats into his voice, but it's not accusatory. He's honestly sort of used to people that don't seem to care all that much about their well-being.]
no subject
[He's not admitting anything more than this: it was a moment of weakness. No one is immune to them, but that's all this is going to be.
Another chunk of wall gets shoved aside as he tries not to think much about losing control.]
I was exhausted. Without the seed I would have moved on. It's nothing I haven't already overcome.
no subject
That's not what I meant.
[Now he's starting to sound a little upset again, though Scott's trying to keep some of his more intense reactions from showing. This just isn't something that he wants to joke about at all and it feels like Altius brushed him off. He knows it's a touchy subject, but. He's going to push more, if he can.
He really doesn't want anything to happen to him.]
But. You still thought about it.
no subject
Does that surprise you?
[Scott wants to dig deeper. Altius doesn't know that he'll let him, but cutting off the conversation entirely would only make the young man stubbornly continue.]
no subject
[Why? Because Altius is an adult? A successful businessman? Someone that seemed like he had a handle on his shit for the most part? He was taking care of someone important back home too, right? Although maybe the fact that Ferran was shot in front of him is part of the reason why he's like this. ...Yeah, probably.
Scott settles back on the rubble, choosing to pay less attention on the cleanup process, and more on Altius.]
...You just seemed like you had things figured out. [He looks off to the side, not quite nonchalant or dismissive, but just thinking about what he wants to really say.] Guess I was wrong. It's fine. I mean, not the wanting to die part, but feeling like shit.
no subject
"Figuring things out" doesn't mean having every problem solved for the rest of your life. It doesn't keep thoughts from happening, either.
no subject
[Guess that was a stupid way to put it, huh? Scott closes his mouth, keeping quiet for a few seconds and watching Altius fiddle with the safe in front of him.] I guess it's normal for everyone to have that thought in passing.
[He did feel that way when Alex died.]
But you really don't have it often? That feeling.
no subject
More often than others, perhaps, [he admits, a bit gruff as he opens the safe. He reaches in and pulls out a wide velvet case, apparently meant for a set of jewelry.]
But I have too much to live for. [All the promises he's silently made. If he let himself die now, just because of being tired... it would make him a coward.] I've never forgotten that.
no subject
But Altius at least acknowledges that he has too much to live for. That's more than some of his friends that he knows here, honestly. Which. Is something that's a very sore point for Scott and he hates thinking about. As long as the older man keeps fighting... and doesn't do anything stupid, then fine.]
Okay, promise. That you won't forget.
no subject
[He doesn't look at Scott; he opens the case, even though logically he knows no harm would have come to the items inside, but perhaps the reminder of what he's fighting for might stave off any influence like those seeds...
Inside are slots for seven pieces of jewelry; two of the slots are empty, while the others are the metal pieces with their gemstones obviously absent. Once he's reassured himself of their safety, he closes the case and lets out a breath.]
I've made the same promise already. I won't let this happen again.
no subject
Okay, he has to ask. What, it's just simple teenage curiosity!!
And maybe better than focusing on this whole death talk. He'd like to really move on from that, thanks.]
What's the jewelry for?
no subject
It's a reminder. Of the others I've made that promise for.
[The fact that the case appeared here... he doesn't know whether to appreciate it or not.]
no subject
I'm glad it wasn't damaged from the attack. [...] We'll get your place rebuilt and you can stay at the inn or whatever for a while, but at least you'll have that.
no subject
[He rubs his face with one hand, dragging it down to his unshaven chin and staring out as if preparing mentally for the task, then proceeds to set aside the case and pull out a drawstring bag from the back of the safe, obviously filled with the local coins. In case Scott was wondering if he had what he needed to sort things out.]