young_oldman | IC Inbox: Empatheias

[ Out in the quiet away from cities, towns and villages, all worlds almost sound alike.

Yet Red didn't come out so far to enjoy the silence, the farther he tried to be from other people, the more noise he expected to be made. At least right then, things were calm, he with the pokémon whose eyes showed nothing at the best of times, hate on the worst. It was just him, Mewtwo, and Charizard for now, surrounded by trees to cover them, with a strict need of little to no disturbance.

That left his other pokémon on guard duty, which also doubled as time for them to amuse themselves, to stretch their limbs and enjoy the fresh air. A small pleasantry during an almost delicate time.

Fresh air, however, meant little for Gengar. No; what the ghost type enjoyed was tricks and mischief, fear and turmoil--all the good stuff in life. It was something that no silence could cover up, that attracted her like flowers do bees -- and the almost reminiscent odourless miasma that the man gave off was just that more inviting to her when she picked up the scent.

She hadn't even seen him yet but she knew he was there, already knew what he would look like before she faded away her body and tracked him in her own silence, the flashes of memories left behind by the bodies still with her.

The face of the man they saw, before bludgeoned in by his weapon.

For now she only wants to inspect, to see what it is he'll do and where he'll go (got to be a good girl for her trainer, after all), but Lu Meng may soon feel a slight chill in the air.... if it wasn't already. ]

[ The counsellors advised him to stay but he needed to get out, get away from people, find some place where the storm that is his emotions wouldn't hurt anyone. Heaven knows he's blown up enough windows and doors, sent cupboards and all their contents crashing to the floor. The last straw had been the new nurse, that clumsy but good hearted young man who had seen him crouched down in the corner and had made the mistake of reaching for his shoulder in what was likely supposed to be a comforting touch.

The counsellors said it wasn't his fault, but at the end of the day that boy was nursing a dislocated shoulder, three broken figures and a broken jaw. Trapped in his mind and his memories, he hadn't even realised that he'd slammed the poor man on the wall until the group of orderlies were restraining him. Every surface he had touched turned black before crumbling into dust, which was how he's been feeling for the past few days since he returned; crumbling at the slightest brush of contact.

His emotions are out of control. He is out of control.

At least when he's out here alone, he has the small comfort that no one else would need to suffer because of him. But while he can run from society, he can't run from the fear, the grief, the anger and hate. And that's why when Gengar's presence appears, it's a fear that's easily swallowed up by his own emotions, blinding him from the Pokemon's presence....for now. ]

Edited 2015-09-07 01:00 (UTC)

[ There we go.

She lurks not too far, watching him with an interest that goes beyond the motives of his presence this far out. Fear; it was the one emotion she loved above all, and his person sung it amongst all the rest. Her tongue rolls out from between her lipless mouth at the thought of it, that perhaps, well, couldn't she just have a taste? A slither of one, to make physical the chill that lives inside of him now -- and how all that guilt would find itself on the end of her tongue through his life energy, spilling around the inner sections of her being.

But- alas, she had to be good. No suddenly scaring (too many) people, Red said. And she wasn't a being controlled utterly by her desires to not realise what trouble this one could be if he happened to get any closer to where his trainer currently was located with that pesky psychic type.

Well, this was perhaps exactly the kind of thing she was meant to watch out for and let him know about--thus, a shadow crawls along a tree, splitting from her body, making its way into the undergrowth back to her trainer. And while that did that, one form stayed, the nothing coming together into a gaseous purple form as the body floats its way into attention of the man, swirls dancing off her body posed into a reclining position mid-air with an undersized arm bent as if holding the weight of an oversized head, and with a grin as wide as it ever is.

Draw her like one of your Chinese women, Lu Meng. That, or show her your reaction. It's for science. ]

[Low blow Gengar, low blow.

He freezes in the spot when he spots the apparition, feet rooted to the ground. The fear flows from him freely, a feast for the gluttonous ghost because it is deep-rooted in his recent, painful memories. Whether this is a new ghost come to the island or one that he has not met before he does not know, but where before a logical process would've followed the initial scare and shock, this time his mind has gone blank and unable to formulate a response. Where before he would've confronted the spirit carefully, now he remains silent and paralysed. His body screams at him to run but he cannot, his legs cannot move because he has no legs to run with, remember? His arms begin to shake, and he longs to turn his head away and look elsewhere but he can't move his wide-eyed stare away from her, his mouth working into wordless pleading to leave them alone, they had done nothing wrong leave them alone-!!

Like an outward ripple, the grass underneath him begins to decay, turning brown-red and brittle. When the ripple touches stone, the stone cracks harshly in half. The birds all take to the skies, the squirrels scatter in panic, and the air turns still, with the barest taste of a copper tang tweaking the nose. All sound has disappeared, as if sucked into a void.

And still he stands there, the epicentre of this emotional reaction. Swallowing, shaking, staring.]

[ We've got a live one.

She's seen already just how this can go, a human's emotions splintering away at more than the person, her eyes following briefly the way the ground below doesn't just murmur, it groans from the spreading decay, before lifting back onto the man so fixated on her. Soundless words may not be heard, but the higher anxiety is enough, the state of the small closure they inhabit feeling the brunt of his fear.

Ah, but she can't go. She can't leave such a danger out here, can she?

Her body corrects itself, as much as continuing to float mid-air can be considered 'correct', the repositioning of her form slow, lifting upright, then the lower half leaning back as she raises a tiny limb that can be called a hand up to her mouth to make a faux shhhh gesture.

There's a shine to her eyes then, brightening with a softness, before the trails of smoke-like gas that surrounds her pushes down, like a billowing fog coming off from a lake, the chill just as similar. It creeps to crack through his suffocating air, doesn't wait to warn- it comes for him, crawling his way to surround his body, to make those wary eyelids close. No fall will startle him back awake, the gas there to carry him into more than just a temporarily slumber, like hands there to lead him down.

But hush now; it's the words her pose speaks, never changing, her wide smile never leaving. ]

[His body hits the ground with a resounding thud as sleep overtakes him. But his nightmares continue on in his dreams.

Welcome to the cabin, Gengar. Only this time the vision is distorted, as if viewed through a bloodied lens. Gengar is viewing this dream from Lu Meng's point of view, after all. Feel free to feast on the fear, the misery, the rage and the over-whelming hatred that's practically dripping off the nightmare. She'll have a band playing screams, begging and crying to accompany you throughout your meal, and peals and peals of unstable, frenetic laughter. Gengar might find a pleasant ring to it, even. It's born of a malicious desire to inflict pain and spread terror and despair, after all.

But don't stay too long in this bloody space. A presence approaches, and the door begins to shake.]

[ In the real world, the body didn't thud, exactly; she was there to catch him, and closer she got when his negativity still cracked apart the ground despite his slumber. She never had to fear humans beyond annoying talisman and pesky, dull tricks, but this place sure did change the rules of what normal humans could do. Yet she could realise there was more to it than that, that his reaction didn't only stem from her ghostly form. Ah, what to do, what to do...

Well, what else than to let herself in, a pokémon with very few restrictions concerning boundaries than what Red's asked of her. Yet to her, it's for a reason more than just fun and pleasure. Certainly, she can still enjoy what she feels in his space (and she does; it hits her like a sensation she hasn't experienced in quite a time around Red, raw and destructive. It kicks into her being as a ghost type, could attract ghosts for miles), but she's careful too. Many humans didn't like to stick around to have their dreams eaten, and the most she had used on it was for harming opponents into a state of unconscious.

She's gentle, as gentle as one can be under her inexperience. She could silently sweep in and take his dream, but his oppressive air and being the one around an unconscious body- ah, let's try and play the good guy. We don't want to accidentally harm him more than he's harming himself right now. That would get her into trouble.

Thus--the negativity dulls to a degree. The room doesn't lose its darkness, not the foreboding--and present--sense of fear, but the surroundings begin to become more clear, not each corner of the interior threatening Lu Meng to the high degree they just were.

And there's a sense of power. If not coming from Lu Meng, but close enough that he could grasp it if he were to try, if able to fight through his own fear. There's no voice, but a suggestion that comes in his surroundings: You can take control. Take it. Like an entity present there with him, one that would fight through any challenge.

The door rattles again. The wood of it seems thicker now, but does it have a lock? Anything barricading it? All of that decides on if Lu Meng can take hold of the strength, put up such defences.

For it's his dream, and his reality. But also his own turmoil... All Gengar can do is delay it for him, and to keep his pain from spreading further into reality. ]

[The door stops moving, and for a moment it seems that all is calm.

But then there's a sharp pain in Gengar/Lu Meng's chest. Their collective view falls down and sees cold steel drenched in blood, emerging from the mouth of a golden dragon-head. The blade lifts, and their body is lifted along with it, blood spilling from the wound. Tissue and nerves are ripped open, and on Lu Meng's part at least he feels the pain of the stab.

And then, his arms begin to move, not of his own volition. Like a puppet being played by string, his hands are directed towards the wound. Fingers dig into the broken skin, and then they begin to pull.

The pain is terrible, but nothing compares to the shock of fear that shoots straight through his body when he hears a deep voice behind him, speaking a language that Lu Meng knows but Gengar probably can't understand. But the tone is threatening, angry, rolling out like thunder and grating on the ears.

By now his fingers can feel the bone inside, and try as he might he can't fight back. He's too stuck in the dream...or is he stuck in the past? Whichever it is, he has no power to pull himself off the blade and take back his reality.]

Edited 2015-09-13 10:19 (UTC)

[ Ah, taking the slow route was beyond this nightmare. It's like a cold ache running through her body, but she's not one to stick through a pain for some man she doesn't know; she's given as much kindness as necessary to get on a delibird's good list this year! There's a much easier way to deal with this and with the same result, and to shake off pains made from being present inside this man's horror show.

It'll leave the reminiscent of the dream with the man, but all of it fades in that moment, leaving like a distant memory too far out of reach to really recall. Knowing he had a nightmare, but the pain and fear, the agony of emotion and mind--it leaves him, taking him to a dreamless place.

To allow him to wake up a little while later, the sound of a boy above him--beside him, that is, but looking down, having gotten Gengar's help to move him away from the cracked unstable ground made by his emotions to a different part. The ghost type now completely out of sight, with just the boy at Lu Meng's side. ]

Sir...? Sir, are you okay? Don't panic, okay...

[What was he doing? Why is he asleep here? His limbs feel like lead, and to his surprise his mind is blissfully blank, his heart bereft of emotions. When he finally shakes off the vestiges of Hypnosis, he sits himself upright, confused and baffled, but feeling more...well, peace is too strong a word, but it's a relief to not be two seconds away from snapping.

But there's a worried boy next to him. He should...see to him first.

Still in that same lethargic state, it's actually easier for Lu Meng to speak because the negative emotions that have constantly been flooding him since he returned have been put to the side. For now, at least.]

I'm, I'm fine.

[But he certainly doesn't sound like it. He sounds completely drained.]

[ Even some of the more veteran battle pokémon had problems shaking off hypnosis, so it's not a surprise--with that and the dream eater, Gengar telling sharing with her trainer the events as best as she could in their limited communication (though, the state of environment helped tremendously)--to see the man still dazed, and he's reaching down to a water bottle beside him, bag against him too, holding it out for him to take. ]

Here, drink this. I've got some fruit too, that should help. You'll feel better soon.

[He balances his pride and how sluggish he feels, and finds that the scale tilts more to the latter than the former. The boy's concern is palpable, and he seemed the type to worry about others. Best to assuage his worries first, then try and figure out what the hell just happened.

One arm stiffly rises and grips the bottle, perhaps a little too hard, and definitely giving as wide a berth as possible between Red's hand and his own bandaged hands. But at least he takes the water and nods at Red.]

Thank you.

[The water certainly helps a little to wash away the after-effects of Dream-eater, but his mind is still struggling to drag up what he can recollect of the past few...minutes? His eyes narrow above them; the sun's position in the sky hasn't changed much so it can't have been too long.

While Lu Meng tries to make sense of what happened, Red can notice some things about the older man too. Like how both his hands are bandaged and even the fingers, but not in the usual way. Each finger is individually wrapped, and the bandages go down all the way, somewhat below the wrist. Heavy bags underline his eyes, as if he's been having difficulty sleeping. The lines on his face and the strands of gray hair give him the appearance of someone much older, perhaps in his late 30s.]

[ It's a sturdy bottle, the kind taken across a region on long adventures, at least able to withstand a firm hold. The bandages were already noted upon Red's initial approach, but he's not going to ask, grabbing for the fruits (bagged and dried, with some nuts mixed in too-) to offer. ] It'll help you get your energy back. I've got some other snacks if you're allergic.

[ He's only using one hand himself, the other resting carefully with the arm still, a knock from earlier making it uncomfortable to move around. But he's smiling all the same, calm. His arm isn't the concern right now. ]

By the way, my name is Red. Do you remember what happened?

Red. Like...like the colour?

[That may not have been the most polite way to respond, but he's still a bit too frazzled to filter his natural tendency for bluntness.]

I'm Lu Meng. [He raises a hand and shakes his head, declining the fruit. The bag is carefully pushed back to Red, with care taken to avoid accidentally brushing even the boy's fingers. He...should probably eat something, yes, but the boy's kindness is honestly a little too much to take at this point and he doesn't quite have the appetite for it or any kind of food at this point.

But Red's question, that he can focus on. He takes another sip of water, as if it could clear the fog that's blanketing itself around his mind.]

I'm not sure. I was just walking. [It's a struggle, and it's slow-going, like brushing off layers and layers of grey film and dust, but it's slowly coming back to him.] And then...

[His eyes widen as a vital piece clicks into place, and the hand that's gripping Red's bottle tightens around the neck. It's no small force, and even with the bottle being a sturdy one there's a tell-tale crack sound, suggesting that this man, even with what seems to be wounded hands, has no small amount of strength inside him.]

A phantom. [He hisses, pure anger and hatred and malice dripping from his voice. The ground underneath him cracks and the grass withers away, as if blasted by a strong heatwave.]

[ A hum to the observation of his name with a nod, no offence taken to the bluntness; he won't insist with the fruit either, lowering it back down. It can be offered again later, but one thing at a time. There's a much clearer picture he wants to see first, of the events that happened than just what he took from Gengar.

But then, the shade of a smile on his face decreases, eyes glancing down at his bottle before flicking back--and then squinting at the sudden thickness of the air surrounding them. He swallows, then raises a hand. ] It's alright. They're not here anymore.

[ He's plenty sure about that. At the same time, he doesn't know how much he wants to give away. Not with the words stuck on the roof of his mouth before he speaks them: ]

You hate phantoms. [ Stiff, uncomfortable; it's a question, even if it doesn't quite come off as one. It feels crummy (to say, to do), but- ] You saw it each other... and then the phantom put you to sleep. What happened before they put you to sleep?

[Very astute of Red. So astute, that the boy must've either been told...or he had been there when it happened.

The phantom could change its forms, couldn't it...?

Lu Meng turns a rage-filled glare onto Red.] How. Did you. Know? [A soft question, but filled with heat and hate. A blast of hot air whips up from behind him, and it'll blow into Red face-first with every intent to send the boy bowling backwards.

Perhaps that might be for the best, because some distance might be good from the furious, phantom-hating individual. Lu Meng's slowly getting to his feet, bottle tossed to the side, and he'll be advancing onto Red with one purpose in mind: seek and destroy this phantom. Even if it happens to take the form of a young boy, because unfortunately for Red the last ghost that left Lu Meng in literal pieces had been the vengeful spirit of a young girl.]

[ He is so not good at this being subtle business. C-, see me after class, Red.

The blast of the wind is what smacks at Red more than the heat, but it's all still felt, skidding him thankfully some small distance onto the side of his (for now) good arm, leaving his bag turned on the ground. It's all a sore pain all the same, at least dulled by the jacket he's put on to cover him up.

Which is the least of his problems apparently, raising his head, his body, in enough of a position to see the man approaching. So this is the kind of person Gengar met with... ]

She's my partner! Her name's Gengar! [ A ball at his waist shakes, a few red and white ones visible now, stirring at the building malice in the air. Somebody senses it. ] She was watching out for trouble, and then she found you!

[ Is he going to need reinforcements, oh dear- ]

[Partner? There's only one special group running about referring to creatures as partners. So that means--]

A ghost Pokemon.

[Well, that leaves a mixed taste in his mouth. On one hand he had a good enough time with Lampent to know that hey, one can have fun and somewhat enjoy the company of a ghost Pokemon even if they're creepy as heck. But on the other though, this one...Gengar. She had appeared to him deliberately as a spectre, and that had set him off so badly that--ah. She was the one who sent him to sleep, wasn't she?

At least he looks a tad less murderous now. See Red, honesty is the best policy. So keep on telling the truth, because that may be the only way to placate Lu Meng right now.]

If she didn't want trouble, then she shouldn't be trying to inflict fear onto people!

[Subconsciously he knows it was just probably a simple trick. But his own wounds are still too raw and painful, and Gengar might as well have splashed him with salt water for that scare.

BRB killing all the grass in a radius around him. The winds continue to blow down on Red, and they're hot and angry.]

She wasn't! That's what we were trying to keep away!

[ A subtle spook perhaps, sure, he would suspect that at most from her, but Gengar wouldn't have done anything to deserve the reaction that man now gives with the clear instructions he gave her, and he would rather stick to her defence than doubt her. She was a trickster at heart, always would be--but he couldn't say the anger here was earned at all, the wild emotion that made the man ]

Look at you! You can't keep yourself under control! Do you know what doing that out here can do!? [ His own rising anger isn't as strong, not as hot; Lu Meng's still has him squinting through the blasting of his emotions, his one good hand gripping into the dirt covered with the ashes of where life once grew. ] You could've been attacked!

The only thing I've been attacked by since I've been here is a ghost that thrives on hurting people. Keep your Pokemon under better control!

[Honestly? It's a relief to let out all this bottled up anger. And any control he might've had was lost when Gengar appeared to him, a malicious grin stretched from ear to ear. She wanted to scare him.

But this anger isn't just towards Red and Gengar. No, it's also towards himself because he knows what Red is accusing him off is true. It's a cycle of anger that grows and grows, really, just like the darkening thunder clouds above him.]

Look around us. That's all you. This is you!

[ The wind still blows against his body, his face red from the heat produced; yet Red stands, slowly, his own defiance of this person, stubborn will pushing back, body leaned to give him the most resistance to the wind beyond the conflict of their emotions. They stand amongst and upon the mess produced by the man, scorched-like earth, cracks going every which way; a land that should tell the story of more than just one man's uncontrolled state for what it shows. ]

The one here who needs to learn some control is you! Before you really hurt someone!

[He can scream back that that's exactly why he's out here, away from people. In fact, if Gengar hadn't taken it upon herself to feed on his fear, none of this would've happened.

...but he's already hurt someone, hasn't he?

The winds abruptly stop, and an unpleasant silence settles in to fill the gaps of the howling gale. The expression on his face is one of pain. As if Red's words were a knife, twisted into his gut.

Even if...even if Gengar had done this to him...in a sense, if he'd only been stronger, if he is only able to keep a better grasp of his emotions...

...he wouldn't have hit her, wouldn't he?

The clouds above shift from a thunderous black to a more subdued grey, and rain begins to fall lightly on the both of them.]

[ The rain shouldn't sting at his skin, surely. But he's only human at the end of the day, and the physical manifestation of their emotions are still all too real. Red squeezes at his eyes for both the wet and and it coming down, gasps, but lets his own heat die with it coming down. Lets the rain fill between a silence needed to give the both of them room to breathe.

He won't apologise. The man might not have liked it, to be lulled into a sleep without his consent, but that would be saying that Gengar was wrong. When right now--he felt like it was the best choice. Even if he can't give the full reasons why, the one before them was enough. ]

...She put you to sleep to stop you. After that, you couldn't have stopped reacting and she ate your dream to calm you down. [ So he took from her munching animations and tongue waving. It's the amount of a picture he's had, not much changed since then described to someone who couldn't even articulate words. ] All you need is some food and rest and you'll be fine.

[The issues go far deeper than just being put to sleep involuntarily, but no one should ever have to know what happened to him, least of all a child that had wanted to help him. It's just...an unfortunate case of being the wrong person, at the wrong place and wrong time.

So he lets the rain wash away the anger. Or as much as it's possible, because he's angry at himself for lashing out at the kid.]

...I am very sorry, Red. You're right. My emotions are dangerous. [He admits quietly, taking the blame all onto himself. It's something he's getting very good at doing lately.]

What happened was not Gengar's fault, but my own-Ghk!

[A sudden cough erupts from his throat. One after another begin to viciously force their way out, and it's so bad till he's doubled up in pain, breathless. Meanwhile his shadow stretches out behind him again, the shape increasingly malformed until it hardly resembles a human form, much less him.]

Edited 2015-09-15 12:07 (UTC)

[ He's listening, quiet and still, emotions swaying no which way but keeping calm. But he can thankful at least, that explaining has brought something else than an outburst.

Until then--what comes then.

His eyes twitch at the sudden sharp sound of the cough, and then it continues; his voice when he speaks ] What's wrong? [ is barely louder than the noise of it, nearly covered up. He steps closer without thought, which is when he spots the growing shadow.

Instinct makes him clip off the pokéball from his belt, that reminding him of something very specific. ] There's a ghost?!

[13/09] cw: mention of death?

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CW: Blood, Dismemberment

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CW: Blood and gore

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