young_oldman | IC Inbox: Empatheias

[A ghost? Is there? Is she there? Sometimes he can't tell if that little flash of red at the corner of his eye is a figment of his imagination, part of someone's shirt, or if it's the ragged hem of that little red dress she wears.

Ragged, like someone's carelessly taken a pair of scissors to it and shredded it ruthlessly. Just like how she shredded him. Cut his body, cut his mind, cut his soul. Yes, that's what she did. Severed parts of his sanity, slashed away his memory, leaving him incomplete, half the man that he used to be.

What's wrong? The boy asks.

Everything. His entire existence is a sin against nature. He died, should have died, has died, will die, is dying, just die die die die die like how they scream and curse him with their last breath--

Lu Meng falls to his knees, hands digging into his sides till there's searing pain and drops of blood. His lungs squeeze and squeeze as if they're forcing out all the air inside. He can't hear Red anymore, can't feel the paper-thin remains of the grass underneath him. Instead there's just, just this high pitched laughter and screaming inside his head, and incomplete images in his mind. He can't remember what he does, but he can't forget how they begged for him to just kill them end them why is he doing this why him why why why--

His shadow quivers behind him before it begins to slowly spread on the ground in front of him, the edges now taking the form of black tendrils and inching forward to Red.]

Edited 2015-09-17 13:04 (UTC)

[ And then Lu Meng was the demons.

Or his own demon, here, something that Red can't comprehend upon viewing the complete shift in his person, eyes frozen and with his own body uncertain of what to do, if to move forward like he does by a step or to not get closer, take that step back. Was it a ghost? Some kind of creature attached to him?

No--if there was a ghost, wouldn't have Gengar noticed it? She was sensitive to such things, to emotions -- which is why her ball rattles now in his hand. Red clasps his other around it to keep it from dropping out. He could let her out again, try and do something about it, but-

(how would Lu Meng react? Was his actions before completely because of seeing her, or the something else now taking place?)

Red moves away, but he doesn't leave, giving space between him and the searching shadow for the ball he replaces Gengar with, her name being called out upon the light of her release-- ] Lapras!

[ Aquatic, with a whale-like voice that is heard upon release; at eight feet tall she's quite a sight. But that can be taken in when Lu Meng can see anything but his own blackened memories. ]

Sing! Hey!--listen to her song! Whatever's going on, we're here!

[ Her head's already tipped back and letting out a sound that spreads out through the area, alluring, soothing; usually meant to put individuals to sleep when used for such means, but something that can fought off, and that isn't the task of this song.

It's the calm that it produces, and the idea of a force that wishes to fight against whatever is attacking at the man to point itself towards them if it's so malicious. Red stands by Lapras side, even moving forward despite what those tendrils intend to do. There may be that sliver of fear in him (of what's going on, for the man--), but he's stood up against too many uncertain situations to let it devour him.

He's determined. An emotion that spreads to Lapras's song, that could fight to bring life back to the barren ground. Pokémon and trainer--a partnership of being in sync with one another, working together.

Would it do anything at all? ]

[Lapras's lullaby is akin to a gentle wave, arriving after a violent storm. It speaks well of Red's training that her voice can pierce through the maelstrom in his mind, and not a moment too soon. Just as the shadows are about to reach for Red, her song finally washes over the screams in Lu Meng's mind. The shadows stop, falter, the tendrils actually peeling out of the ground and stretched out to latch onto Red...before they begin to recede.

And eventually Lapras's soothing sound washes those screams out of his mind, blanketing his fractured mind and emotions with sleep. And it is by far the most peaceful emotion he has experienced in the last month. Once again he falls backwards, but this time without a troubled expression.

His shadow returns to normal, and a light breeze begins to blow, clearing out the bad air. Where it tickles the grass underneath, it restores them back to their green, healthy state. The ground reseals itself, and the sun begins to shine through the grey clouds above.]

[ There's calm--but it takes a moment or so for Red to release the breath he didn't know he was holding, for his body to relax. His ears have heard enough of Lapras's song not to fall to its temptation as others may, but still he has to squeeze his eyes, and Lapras catches him with her neck and head when his legs, upon moving, first nearly buckle.

But he's fine. Unlike the man there, now in a sleep. His bag is elsewhere, that canister continuing to let out water from the hairline cracks pressed into it, but Red's footsteps take him closer to the man than either of those things, Lapras's song turning to a hum and she follows a flipper at a time. Unease rests on his arms for that small amount of time, until he bends down closer to him just as he did before, checking the man's forehead with the back of his hand, yet the soft sight of red at his side a more concerning thing.

Two pokémon get called out silently, both to fetch broken wood ("snap quietly," to Charizard, a finger pressed to his lips) to put together a fire set alight by the fire type and to dry off some of the rain from the man's body. In that time he grabs his bag again, taking out the folded blanket to place at the back of his head, then some of the spare medical supplies he has. Some bandages (too fussy), plasters (too small), but the dressing pads are what he's looking for, a few buttons undone so they can be put on with a little more care than pushing aside the fabric of the shirt.

Funny, how he expected to be in this position with Mewtwo than a human, but he still wasn't sure of the reason of this man's instability as he was the pokémon's. ]

...We sure ended up in a weird world, huh...

[ The air shifts around him, but Red doesn't allow it to stay, taking in a deep breath and letting it out with sound, sighing and resting back close to Lapras. He calls Jolteon and Charizard closer to him but away from the man, just in case, Charizard resting down with his head curled next to his trainer, Jolteon laying as well.

He'll give him some time, let the fire hopefully keep him warm. He doesn't know how well trying to get a doctor out here will do. ...Or maybe he'll end up accidentally nodding off by the time Lu Meng stirs. Completely a possibility, listening to Lapras for that long. ]

[It's not just Lapras's song, but fatigue that keeps Lu Meng well under her spell. Red will probably fall asleep before Lu Meng wakes up.

When Red does stir from his sleep, he'll find the man awake, seated near the fire and staring into it, silent and deep in thought. Lapras continues her song, but there's no drowsiness inflicting Lu Meng this time. Just a warm, comfortable feeling, something he hasn't felt in awhile.]

Edited 2015-09-20 14:05 (UTC)

[ When he did awake, Lapras would have been there to greet Lu Meng, to temporarily hush her humming and to bow her head to him, closing her eyes in the action. A deliberate motion, the only way she knew to say hello to new humans when without the words of their languages.

Charizard and Jolteon would have stirred some, keeping watch, their eyes on their immediate area and their ears (more so Jolteon's) for their surroundings, for any approaching troubles to be watched out for. But Charizard stops the smaller yellow one from getting up in his desire to approach the man, to say hello. Not now.

Lapras doesn't let Red sleep for too long after that, nudging her head against the boy's shoulder, knowing his own sleep was a pinch of exhaustion too, yet nothing too deep. It's not her touch that makes him wince, but the reminder of the bruise that'll form later on his arm, his eyes then finding soon after--

ah. he's awake.

Red doesn't speak up right away, though the man may know he's awake already, the small noises made (the 'huh' particularly, the shuffling) upon doing so. Instead he thinks, considering asking the initial curiosity that comes to mind, but a part of him knowing that, that entirely? ]

...Are you feeling better?

[ The answer must be a no, on some personal level. ]

Yes.

[Only not really. He'd rather not feel at all, if he can help it. But he's calmer now and with that returns some semblance of normalcy, or as much as he can pretend of it.]

Did I hurt you?

No. You fell right to sleep. [ Again. ] Lapras's song does that sometimes.

[ Should he apologise it, for twice in a row? But he holds back from needless apologies (the man doesn't seem exactly angry at the moment, so). Instead, his mind goes to his pokémon beside him, then eyes back over to the man.

The ground stills around himself, Lapras's song gone, head tipping to look at him, murmuring for his attention that's given in a flicker her way, but nothing more. ]

Are you okay with my pokémon being here...?

[ He tries to keep his voice level, but there's an uncertainty that can be caught on. ]

...please keep Gengar in her Pokeball. It's--I'm not angry at her. But I cannot...

[He bows his head, his hands covering his eyes. For a moment the flame flickers from a sudden gust. Suddenly the warmth isn't quite there. Suddenly there's an unnatural chill, quite like the one Red would've experienced in the hidden cave where he made that gruesome discovery.

The wind's come and gone, and maybe it's a figment of Red's imagination...but he may have heard the faint sound of maniacal, shrill cackling.]

[ It connects easily; a memory of a day he's kept tucked away in his heart (because it will live nowhere else, joined with his mind, the anguish that comes upon imagining what those people went through) that never really comes out--it has no reason to, and he doesn't want to dwell on such pain.

But it slips there, the reminder of that chill deeper than ice. The grass around him curls, hiding in, and Lapras hums a sound at the encroaching display of emotions. ]

She's there. You don't have to worry. [ and despite that he forces out the words, yet still needing to get rid of that lump now sticking to his ribcage. Charizard lifts his head, curling it to the edge of his lap, bringing to him his warmth. We're here, the action speaks.

Calm. Right. Remember calm. ]

Do you need anyone? A friend or a doctor... Charizard and me can help them get here.

[ But then, they're so far away -- from Verens, from any of the villages. It was on purpose on his part, and for this man...? ]

I've had enough of doctors. [Wearily, bitterly, he declines Red's help. And his friends? He'd left Verens and the villages because of them.

No one should have to be hurt because of him.]

There's nothing anyone can do. But thank you for offering. I've...been nothing but terrible to you.

[ ... ] It's fine.

[ There's parts that weren't, aren't, but--that's a lot of energy and anger he doesn't want to touch or think about and would rather brush his hands of if the man kept up his own calm than accusations slung towards his pokéon. There was still that churning in him that wouldn't let go, things that he didn't want to think about... ]

It's hard sometimes. This place makes it harder. [ Emotions taking form in ways they shouldn't or unused to. If that's all it was, then he wasn't going to hold grudges. ] ...It's quieter out here.

[ And that was appreciated. He puts his good hand onto the head of Charizard, a small pause. ] Your name. You said it was... Lumen?

[ He'd been trying to remember it, but it wasn't quite clicking in a way that sounded right in his head. ]

Lu Meng, yes.

[A pause.] I've spoken with a Trainer before. I know what Pokemon are and how they are regarded in your world.

So I apologize, both to you and Gengar. I am truly alright with your Pokemon. But the specters...the specters haunt me still, and I cannot bear to look upon Gengar.

The one who is at fault is me.

Mmm. [ It's a negative sound, a shake of his head. But he's curious, and can't hold back his tongue this time: ] Spectres... what do you mean? What spectres?

[ Where in Empatheias? They weren't anything he'd heard about, no words about spectres close to his ears, at least. Other than... back then, but... ]

Ghosts.

You should be wary. [His voice turns harsh, angry, and the fire in front of them flares up.] There was a vengeful spirit that wandered this world. She enjoyed putting on an act, pretending to be an innocent young victim of her circumstances, when in truth the only joy she felt was inflicting pain and torture onto the living.

The Otherworlder Enforcers caught her, and she was put to trial and sentenced to death for her crimes. But since the Otherworlders do not die on this island I can assume that she will return, even if she has been exorcised.

[ There's an unsettling feeling in him that comes from that, first from the description of the ghost, and then hearing that they had been sentenced to death. A spirit sentenced to death?...

Red bites on the inside of his bottom lip, unsure. ]

But... if she's really exorcised...doesn't that mean she can move on? Isn't that different from killing them?

[ Wasn't that allowing them to rest? How did you kill a ghost anyway? ]

Were it only so easy. But if this world will not let us go through death, it follows then, that we cannot forcibly remove a spirit from here.

[Briefly his hand curls up into a tight fist, and the fire in front of him flares up, as if someone had thrown fuel inside it.]

[ Really, for a ghost, it seems like a situation that should be different. ...What a difficult area of thought.

Red's eyes flicker to the raised fist, the way that the flames burn, before they lower to the ground, spotting Lapras's shadow. --ah, shadows. ]

I don't want to worry you, but did you get checked out if she left a grudge on you? You got strange suddenly, and your shadow...it was like something was living in it.

[ wait, poor choice of words. ] Not literally--but it looked like a pile of tentacles.

[Grudge? No, she wouldn't be the one with the grudge on him. If anyone has any thoughts of vengeance right now, it's him. And if anyone should come for him, seeking his blood...it would be those poor men. The thought of that causes his shadow to flicker, before it begins to stretch behind him again.]

It's just the island. Playing on our emotions. [He says, his voice low.]

[ With the discussion on it, the way the shadow begins to react--Red's lips press in their already closed state, a brief crease at his brow. ]

If you're sure... you would probably know better than me. [ His hand touches over a knee, the other arm bent in rest, keeping it still. ] Emotions show some pretty weird things. One guy makes feathers appear out of nowhere with his. Another time...a boy made petals appear when we were on the lake. I guess it all means something important to them.

[He doesn't have much to respond to that, other than a soft shrug of the shoulders.

With the topic moving away from ghosts and hauntings, his shadow returns to its normal shape, and the fire returns to its previous size. But there's a lingering chill in the air, and it's not one that can be banished by a simple fire.]

[ The response--or lack of one--is fine. They were just words for words, a different place of thought than spectres and possible curses or grudges. It might not bring a total calm (his chill doesn't quite reach the boy, near to creatures of warmth and calm, even when cold-blooded), but that's not something an unknown company can really do anything about.

And if things had played out differently, perhaps he wouldn't even be here right now, having moved on with his day. But there's no rush in his legs, no telling in his head to do so. He lets the silence be for a small while, before speaking up once more. ]

You're really far out from the city. Do you live in one of the villages?

[The silence is not unwelcome, but it is little comfort either. Still, there is nothing this boy can do to help him. In fact he should probably get on his way now that things are...somewhat settled between them. There's no reason for him to stay. He had just been about to stand when Red speaks up.]

No. What of you? [He had gone out this far to avoid people, after all.]

IC Inbox: Empatheias

CW: Blood, Dismemberment, Self-harm

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