[Zekarion remembers the headings of the notes he'd glanced at over their shoulder, once upon a time. He follows along, keeping his attention on the surroundings.]
... but this is something you can detect. [It was foolish, thinking he'd learned everything he needed to about Dante's abilities after that dream. It was so significant in his eyes he supposes it blinded him to any other possibilities...] I expect they're capable of anything a nightmare is?
[It's barely a question. Dante's reaction—and everything about the nature of their work he's been able to glean—has already told him the potential for danger is there, if not significant.]
Edited (noooooo not the same phrase again) 2025-06-17 02:46 (UTC)
< That's right. On both counts. Dreams too, like I said earlier. Just... more the strange sort than the pleasant. >
[Where things don't feel quite real or are so bizarre they have you questioning the world around you.]
< Think of a room filled with work you've been procrastinating on that's suddenly come to life, for example. Or a city filled with robots that are terrified of touching one another. Or a signpost covered in roses and barbed wire that wants nothing more than to make a garden of roses made from people's sins. >
[Or, as they grow closer to the Abnormality they're looking for and Dante gestures for Zekarion to stay hidden...
A small, round bird, no bigger than a hand, perfectly normal looking save for the red marking on its chest.
Dante leans forward slightly, trying to get a better look without drawing closer, their head tilted.
[Zekarion considers most dreams where he doesn't understand what's going on unpleasant—but the point has been made. Reality has no bearing on what the possibilities are. That just means he'll have to be ready for anything...
He follows Dante's lead, silent and staying behind the tree trunks and foliage as best as he can. His gaze follows the direction of theirs as well, and lands on the bird. Its coloring seems out of place, white and red in the middle of the forest's bright summer greens—but if his attention hadn't been drawn there by Dante in the first place, he might not have given it any real thought at all.
... still, the two of them aren't exactly camouflaged, are they? Zekarion might have blended in reasonably with the caves in his darker clothes, but out here, and with Dante's flame... Well, he keeps a hand on the hilt of his sword, glancing to his partner for a cue. If they look back, his alert, serious expression will tell them that despite the innocent appearance of the thing, he's prepared for it to be much worse.]
It isn't normal, Dante can feel that it isn't normal, but it's certainly acting that way at the distance they're at. Just as Dante's debating the merits of drawing closer, the small bird turns its head, cocking it to the side and seeming to stare right in their direction.
And before Dante can motion for Zekarion to fall back, the bird is flying right towards them, swooping, diving, and pecking at both Zekarion and Dante's heads and shoulders.]
< Wh--?! Hey! Ow! >
[...with all the ferocity and damage of a perfectly normal (albeit aggressive) bird.]
[Here's the thing: the last time Zekarion allowed a small animal to attack him, he landed in a coma. Between that, his general paranoia, and the recently-acquired knowledge that death has a defined, permanent price here? He's been determined to not let anything like that touch him again.
Which is why he's hidden a monster of his own creation in his jacket, currently shrouded by the power that keeps his own magic undetectable—a monster capable of reflection, which is ready to protect him at all times. He may not initially move quickly enough to dodge out of the way of the pecking, but it doesn't matter; he feels no beak and no pain as the force of the attack is simply reflected back upon the creature.
It reels back, fluttering in place as if to regain its composure. And then little by little, like blood spreading and spilling, those white feathers turn scarlet. Beady eyes that might have seemed cute at first focus on Zekarion--intense inky black.
The red mark on its chest is nearly indistinguishable from the change in the bird's plumage, at least until it begins to move. Feathers give way to flesh, pink and pulsating, folding out and stretching, lined with teeth and impossibly long for the creature's small body as it stretches out to bite, retaliate, devour...
[His eyes go wide, and it's like a switch is flipped.
His expression then shows no fear, only focus, as he moves—faster than he has any right to, darting backwards to avoid the bite, sword drawn in an instant to slash at the edge of the maw that's revealed itself. He's not about to plunge his sword right into the thing, even if he's certain he could now that it's made itself a larger target; he doesn't know how strong this thing's bite might be, and even now he's determined to keep this blade in one piece, even aside from any other consequences that might follow from trying.
The creature's attention seems to be fully on him, at least; good. If he doesn't have to worry overly about protecting Dante, then maybe they can stay steady and offer support—either with their senses and knowledge or their firearm. But if it does turn its attention towards them, he'll be ready to attack and get it back—or at the very least shove them out of the way.]
[For but a brief moment, Dante's heart goes still in their chest. And then Zekarion moves, faster than they expected, leaving those impossible jaws to snap closed around thin air.
They reach for and draw their gun, firing at the Abnormality to distract it, missing with the first two shots, hitting with the third.
Immediately it turns its attention to Dante, and just as quickly they begin to fall back.]
[Later, he might have the thought of complimenting their marksmanship, but Dante's reaction is a direction without words: attack. So he goes on the offensive without hesitation, in no small part due to his desire to keep them from whatever harm he possibly can.
His movements are controlled and precise without wasting momentum; despite his size he's adept at evading, at making himself a less easy target to hit and staying at the best distance to do damage. His choice of weapon means he's most effective the more accurate he is with that point, rather than wide slashes—and while those horrid jaws make this monster easier to hit, he's not wasting all his experience to pretend he can't land a blow to the bird's tiny body directly if he has to.
He's entirely silent as he strikes, and there's a serious press to his lips—but there's something bright and sharp in his eyes as he goes in to test the effectiveness of each angle of attack, how best to make himself the worse threat in its eyes. For the most part, however, he won't put himself directly between Dante and the Abnormality unless it gets too close; if they can land any more shots, it means they'll be able to put this thing down faster.]
[It changes focus every time its hit, from Dante to Zekarion and back again, but a particular strike from Zekarion's rapier sends the bird staggering back, and once it goes on the attack once more its attention is fully settled on him.
With an apologetic glance Zekarion's way, Dante takes the opportunity to fall back and reload, motions far from smooth as they fumble with the bullets. It's not just the pressure of the situation, however. More and more their gaze finds its way back to Zekarion. Out of worry, yes, but...
They've seen what inexperience looks like on the field. And they've seen swords like that wielded in battle.
Zekarion isn't inexperienced. And he knows exactly what he's doing with that weapon.]
[The glance goes unnoticed; he simply attacks as he has, trusting Dante will contribute what they can when they can. As prepared as he is for combat, it's been a long, long time since he actually fought alongside anyone or anything other than his own creations, since he's had to look for any communication from an ally as he did his own part in the battle, rather than watching and waiting for results.
Perhaps if Onyx had been fighting alongside him, perhaps if he'd paid more attention, then he would have noticed the boy's intent to throw himself in front of—
A distracting thought. Enough for the creature's hidden teeth to catch on his sword arm, leaving jagged gashes as he darts out of the way just in time to avoid losing the limb—he might have been out of luck if not for the reflective powers of his own hidden monster dulling the blow.
His lip curls into a sneer of displeasure almost like a wince, but he doesn't let the pain stop him from continuing his assault. This damn thing can't last forever, no matter what possibilities it might hold.]
[The near miss snaps Dante out of their thoughts and back into the action. They can talk to him about this later. Right now they need to...
There.
Reload complete, they fire again, each shot carefully aimed. With the bird's attention solely focused on Zekarion, they don't need to worry about dodging anything headed their way, but they don't have enough confidence in their aim to keep a steady stream of fire incoming, either. Not with such a small target, and certainly not with Zekarion in the fray.
It becomes easier as its movements begin to slow. Small as it is, it seems it has more bite than endurance.]
< Hit it where you did before I fell back--as hard as you can! Then press the attack! >
[Zekarion doesn't question it. The order aligns with his own strategy; it's just a matter of the opportunity, and with their combined efforts wearing the bird down, it becomes more and more easy to see that chance.
When it comes, he plunges his blade into the same spot as before, but with more aggressive focus. Some of the energy he'd have fully put into dodging he instead turns to the purpose of making it hurt—to tear through the Abnormality's flesh with a forward slash after his successful stab.
He has no way of noticing the near-triumphant gleam in his eyes.]
[The final blow sees the air twist around the bird, reality bending, collapsing, congealing into an egg, white with pale blue spots, the mark--mouth--from the bird's chest visible at its center, where a duo of long, red feathers arch backward in a fascimile of the bird's jaws.
And Dante leans forward, hands on their knees.]
< Whew... Good. Good work there. We really got lucky. >
[Though Dante seems to relax, Zekarion keeps a solid grip on his rapier, half-raised, and his posture remains cautious, narrowed eyes not moving from the egg-shaped thing the Abnormality has become.
He might not have the experience they do, but this... it seems to him that it isn't as dead as it should be. Or at least not as much as he wants it to be.]
What do you typically do with these, [he asks frankly.]
[Zekarion's lips press together in a frown when he sees Dante approach, though only a twitch in his free hand implies he has any thought to try to stop them.
He might have been inclined to make some sort of remark about neither can we—but given what he knows now and how close a call this appears to have been, the humor doesn't come to him. He merely sounds unhappy when he replies,]
Is that so.
[Is that their best option? Dropping it further into the wilderness and hoping it doesn't find civilization? A slow breath leaves his nose as he cants his head, brow furrowed as he mutters to half to himself.]
Making sure it's further away from anyone. I suppose...
[He pulls a cloth from his jacket as he considers. Unfamiliar with any suitable containment, himself, his only thoughts briefly go to the AI's capabilities—and that's immediately dismissed, given the fact that the simulation freely allows other dangerous creatures to menace them all.
Zekarion wipes his blade clean before returning it to his sheath, grip only momentarily shaky before it slides in with a clack.]
[He wonders if there's any point to it. But there's certainly a tension in his gaze that can't be missed when Dante seems to pick the Abnormality up almost casually... At the question, his gaze lowers to his bleeding arm with a mild look.]
I'll be alright if this is all there is to it.
[He supposes they'll find out. But he won't make the same mistake as before and just think he can handle it all on his own, if there is more.]
Why don't you hand that to me and you can put something on this as we move?
[Zekarion had insisted on bringing first aid supplies, of course.]
[It's handed over without a fight, though they make sure to keep the mouth on the egg turned away from Zekarion's arm and body, just in case. As they begin rummaging through the supplies the two of them had brought in search of the first aid kit, their flame flickers in his direction.]
[Oh, good. He rolls his torn sleeve up before he takes the egg from them; he really didn't want to argue about them with it, and it is reassuring to be carrying it himself, rather than watching out for them the entire way. Even if their cadence is reassuring in a sense, his concerns aren't assuaged so easily, but his tone is even. He does trust them, despite his usual paranoia.]
Do they all... sleep in ways like this?
[Hm. Of equal importance, despite the fact that he's the one with the obvious wounds:]
I know. [And he doesn't want to seem like he doesn't believe they can do their job, even if he has his concerns.] But I want to be sure.
[To check up on them, to be sure that someone is, when they have that tendency to brush off their own issues.
But his gaze moves from their face to their hands as they work on his arm. There's really no way he can deny that much at this point. It was inevitable, so he's had a thought of what he's wanted to say: sentiments that are more or less true on their own, even if they're not the whole picture. He draws some of his true guilt to the surface, even if it's ultimately for the sake of making a convincing story.]
I suppose it's selfish of me. [He pauses momentarily, working through the words he wants to use.] The times I've fought before... it hasn't gone well for everyone else involved.
[Thinking of his failures as a youth still hurts, even now. He can use that, at least... maybe to keep Dante from asking too many questions.]
[Air escapes a vent on their head in a heavy sigh.]
< Don't get me wrong. I get it, especially when you describe it like that. > [The LCB has had its own share of unfortunate endings to joint operations, after all] < But it sure would have saved me a lot of worry if I knew you could handle yourself beforehand. >
[The strain to his smile as he looks back up to their face, at least, is real.]
I'm sorry, Dante. [Sorry for worrying them, sorry for... things he can't ever say. But he lets that semi-attempt at reassurance fade to something more neutral as he continues.] You're not bad with that pistol, yourself, hm?
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expiationlogs2025-06-09 09:13 am
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... but this is something you can detect. [It was foolish, thinking he'd learned everything he needed to about Dante's abilities after that dream. It was so significant in his eyes he supposes it blinded him to any other possibilities...] I expect they're capable of anything a nightmare is?
[It's barely a question. Dante's reaction—and everything about the nature of their work he's been able to glean—has already told him the potential for danger is there, if not significant.]
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[Where things don't feel quite real or are so bizarre they have you questioning the world around you.]
< Think of a room filled with work you've been procrastinating on that's suddenly come to life, for example. Or a city filled with robots that are terrified of touching one another. Or a signpost covered in roses and barbed wire that wants nothing more than to make a garden of roses made from people's sins. >
[Or, as they grow closer to the Abnormality they're looking for and Dante gestures for Zekarion to stay hidden...
A small, round bird, no bigger than a hand, perfectly normal looking save for the red marking on its chest.
Dante leans forward slightly, trying to get a better look without drawing closer, their head tilted.
This is a new one.]
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He follows Dante's lead, silent and staying behind the tree trunks and foliage as best as he can. His gaze follows the direction of theirs as well, and lands on the bird. Its coloring seems out of place, white and red in the middle of the forest's bright summer greens—but if his attention hadn't been drawn there by Dante in the first place, he might not have given it any real thought at all.
... still, the two of them aren't exactly camouflaged, are they? Zekarion might have blended in reasonably with the caves in his darker clothes, but out here, and with Dante's flame... Well, he keeps a hand on the hilt of his sword, glancing to his partner for a cue. If they look back, his alert, serious expression will tell them that despite the innocent appearance of the thing, he's prepared for it to be much worse.]
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It isn't normal, Dante can feel that it isn't normal, but it's certainly acting that way at the distance they're at. Just as Dante's debating the merits of drawing closer, the small bird turns its head, cocking it to the side and seeming to stare right in their direction.
And before Dante can motion for Zekarion to fall back, the bird is flying right towards them, swooping, diving, and pecking at both Zekarion and Dante's heads and shoulders.]
< Wh--?! Hey! Ow! >
[...with all the ferocity and damage of a perfectly normal (albeit aggressive) bird.]
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Which is why he's hidden a monster of his own creation in his jacket, currently shrouded by the power that keeps his own magic undetectable—a monster capable of reflection, which is ready to protect him at all times. He may not initially move quickly enough to dodge out of the way of the pecking, but it doesn't matter; he feels no beak and no pain as the force of the attack is simply reflected back upon the creature.
The bird isn't going to like that.]
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It reels back, fluttering in place as if to regain its composure. And then little by little, like blood spreading and spilling, those white feathers turn scarlet. Beady eyes that might have seemed cute at first focus on Zekarion--intense inky black.
The red mark on its chest is nearly indistinguishable from the change in the bird's plumage, at least until it begins to move. Feathers give way to flesh, pink and pulsating, folding out and stretching, lined with teeth and impossibly long for the creature's small body as it stretches out to bite, retaliate, devour...
To punish.]
< Watch out! >
[Dante's whistle pierces through the forest.]
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His expression then shows no fear, only focus, as he moves—faster than he has any right to, darting backwards to avoid the bite, sword drawn in an instant to slash at the edge of the maw that's revealed itself. He's not about to plunge his sword right into the thing, even if he's certain he could now that it's made itself a larger target; he doesn't know how strong this thing's bite might be, and even now he's determined to keep this blade in one piece, even aside from any other consequences that might follow from trying.
The creature's attention seems to be fully on him, at least; good. If he doesn't have to worry overly about protecting Dante, then maybe they can stay steady and offer support—either with their senses and knowledge or their firearm. But if it does turn its attention towards them, he'll be ready to attack and get it back—or at the very least shove them out of the way.]
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They reach for and draw their gun, firing at the Abnormality to distract it, missing with the first two shots, hitting with the third.
Immediately it turns its attention to Dante, and just as quickly they begin to fall back.]
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His movements are controlled and precise without wasting momentum; despite his size he's adept at evading, at making himself a less easy target to hit and staying at the best distance to do damage. His choice of weapon means he's most effective the more accurate he is with that point, rather than wide slashes—and while those horrid jaws make this monster easier to hit, he's not wasting all his experience to pretend he can't land a blow to the bird's tiny body directly if he has to.
He's entirely silent as he strikes, and there's a serious press to his lips—but there's something bright and sharp in his eyes as he goes in to test the effectiveness of each angle of attack, how best to make himself the worse threat in its eyes. For the most part, however, he won't put himself directly between Dante and the Abnormality unless it gets too close; if they can land any more shots, it means they'll be able to put this thing down faster.]
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With an apologetic glance Zekarion's way, Dante takes the opportunity to fall back and reload, motions far from smooth as they fumble with the bullets. It's not just the pressure of the situation, however. More and more their gaze finds its way back to Zekarion. Out of worry, yes, but...
They've seen what inexperience looks like on the field. And they've seen swords like that wielded in battle.
Zekarion isn't inexperienced. And he knows exactly what he's doing with that weapon.]
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Perhaps if Onyx had been fighting alongside him, perhaps if he'd paid more attention, then he would have noticed the boy's intent to throw himself in front of—
A distracting thought. Enough for the creature's hidden teeth to catch on his sword arm, leaving jagged gashes as he darts out of the way just in time to avoid losing the limb—he might have been out of luck if not for the reflective powers of his own hidden monster dulling the blow.
His lip curls into a sneer of displeasure almost like a wince, but he doesn't let the pain stop him from continuing his assault. This damn thing can't last forever, no matter what possibilities it might hold.]
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There.
Reload complete, they fire again, each shot carefully aimed. With the bird's attention solely focused on Zekarion, they don't need to worry about dodging anything headed their way, but they don't have enough confidence in their aim to keep a steady stream of fire incoming, either. Not with such a small target, and certainly not with Zekarion in the fray.
It becomes easier as its movements begin to slow. Small as it is, it seems it has more bite than endurance.]
< Hit it where you did before I fell back--as hard as you can! Then press the attack! >
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When it comes, he plunges his blade into the same spot as before, but with more aggressive focus. Some of the energy he'd have fully put into dodging he instead turns to the purpose of making it hurt—to tear through the Abnormality's flesh with a forward slash after his successful stab.
He has no way of noticing the near-triumphant gleam in his eyes.]
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And Dante leans forward, hands on their knees.]
< Whew... Good. Good work there. We really got lucky. >
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He might not have the experience they do, but this... it seems to him that it isn't as dead as it should be. Or at least not as much as he wants it to be.]
What do you typically do with these, [he asks frankly.]
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[Right. They can't blame him for being on guard after all that.
Too bad they don't have any good news to give him.]
< Usually another department comes by and takes it in. For us... Hm. Might be better to take it deeper into the forest before it hatches again? >
[Dante holsters their gun and walks over to crouch beside it.]
< Abnormalities can't be killed. >
[Although, maybe...
No. No matter how suitable the Aetherochemical Research Facility might be to hold this thing, giving it to Fandaniel is probably a bad idea.]
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He might have been inclined to make some sort of remark about neither can we—but given what he knows now and how close a call this appears to have been, the humor doesn't come to him. He merely sounds unhappy when he replies,]
Is that so.
[Is that their best option? Dropping it further into the wilderness and hoping it doesn't find civilization? A slow breath leaves his nose as he cants his head, brow furrowed as he mutters to half to himself.]
Making sure it's further away from anyone. I suppose...
[He pulls a cloth from his jacket as he considers. Unfamiliar with any suitable containment, himself, his only thoughts briefly go to the AI's capabilities—and that's immediately dismissed, given the fact that the simulation freely allows other dangerous creatures to menace them all.
Zekarion wipes his blade clean before returning it to his sheath, grip only momentarily shaky before it slides in with a clack.]
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[But it didn't start off with that either. Given how it behaved when they both were attacking it, maybe it only responds when attacked itself.
Then there's the other problem:]
< Still, it's weird... I haven't seen that one before. Guess it can take from just about anything in our worlds. >
[They pick the egg up, tucking it under one arm, and walk over to Zekarion.]
< You okay? >
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[He wonders if there's any point to it. But there's certainly a tension in his gaze that can't be missed when Dante seems to pick the Abnormality up almost casually... At the question, his gaze lowers to his bleeding arm with a mild look.]
I'll be alright if this is all there is to it.
[He supposes they'll find out. But he won't make the same mistake as before and just think he can handle it all on his own, if there is more.]
Why don't you hand that to me and you can put something on this as we move?
[Zekarion had insisted on bringing first aid supplies, of course.]
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< We have some time. >
[They tick softly, trying to sound reassuring.]
< It won't come back immediately. >
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Do they all... sleep in ways like this?
[Hm. Of equal importance, despite the fact that he's the one with the obvious wounds:]
And are you alright as well?
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[Finding the first aid kit, they motion for him to stay still, pulling out what they need to disinfect the wound first before wrapping it in gauze.]
< They all become eggs like this, yeah--all the ones I've seen anyway. Couldn't tell you why. >
[Or how. Or much of anything about how they work.]
< By the way... Why have you been hiding the fact you know how to fight all this time? >
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[To check up on them, to be sure that someone is, when they have that tendency to brush off their own issues.
But his gaze moves from their face to their hands as they work on his arm. There's really no way he can deny that much at this point. It was inevitable, so he's had a thought of what he's wanted to say: sentiments that are more or less true on their own, even if they're not the whole picture. He draws some of his true guilt to the surface, even if it's ultimately for the sake of making a convincing story.]
I suppose it's selfish of me. [He pauses momentarily, working through the words he wants to use.] The times I've fought before... it hasn't gone well for everyone else involved.
[Thinking of his failures as a youth still hurts, even now. He can use that, at least... maybe to keep Dante from asking too many questions.]
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[Air escapes a vent on their head in a heavy sigh.]
< Don't get me wrong. I get it, especially when you describe it like that. > [The LCB has had its own share of unfortunate endings to joint operations, after all] < But it sure would have saved me a lot of worry if I knew you could handle yourself beforehand. >
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I'm sorry, Dante. [Sorry for worrying them, sorry for... things he can't ever say. But he lets that semi-attempt at reassurance fade to something more neutral as he continues.] You're not bad with that pistol, yourself, hm?
[Their practice is paying off, he thinks.]
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