let it hurt // return // let it burn

[jacob w.c.]

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JACOB WICKLIFF CORLEONE

He had been sick. The pregnancy was harder than he expected, especially with the conditions he'd had before it even estarted. He told himself it didn't matter, that he'd be able to handle it. In the end, he'd changed back into his original body almost immediately and he'd tucked himself away as he tried to recover. Finally, he had worked up the strength to get out. He didn't want to go with anyone else. He wanted to prove to himself he was self-sufficient, that he could do it. Besides, he had the best surprise planned for Pincher. A nice dinner, someone to look after the kids, their first proper date since everything had happened. He knew that the man he loved had a way of withdrawing when things happened and Jacob didn't want that, so he was pushing himself maybe a bit harder than he should've. Jacob was stubborn, but he wasn't stupid. He'd never been stupid. So he wasn't sure what made him do it. He should've taken someone with him, he should've just told Pincher what was happening, or if not Pincher than someone- anyone.

But instead as the dinner was half set up, someone had come. He still didn't know who or what they were. Before he knew it, he was unconcious and then he was somewhere else, in the dark. It was so dark. Not even a glimmer of light slipped through it. He felt like he was breathing ink. And then came the questions. There were too many for him to count, too many for him to remember. Most he didn't understand or know the answer to. He sobbed most of the time and claimed to know nothing. It was something he was trained to do from a young age. But they didn't believe him. He couldn't describe the things that happened after that. He didn't even necessarily remember all of it. He wasn't sure he wanted to. No, he knew he didn't want to. They asked him about Pincher, about his Deniz, his mare, about his kids, about someone named Emrys which sounded familiar but he couldn't place, about his dad and his family, about everything. Jacob wasn't even sure what he'd said or hadn't said in the end, he had just wanted desperately for it to be over.

Eventually, he gave them what they wanted or they got tired of asking. Either way, he was back at the place they'd started. He had no idea how long it'd been. He was glad to feel rain against his skin, although it made it hard to breathe in the cover they had him in. There was still something veiling his sight and he spoke, "W-Where's my husband? Where's Deniz? Is 'e safe? Where are my kids? Where's my family-" It was the first time he'd said something on his own accord in... however long it'd been.

"We've determined your husband is a threat. It's a shame but-"

"Wha'? H-How? I-I-I-I didn't- I don' remember-" Jacob's frustration was clearly growing and tears stung his eyes. "I can't let ya' hurt him. I can't let ya' hurt 'em. I-I-I can't-"

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be. We've determined you are not Emrys and therefore we have no quarrel with you. You are not a threat. Now-" At this point, the cover on his face was removed and he took his first deep breath of clear air and was tempted to stop to feel the rain. He hadn't been sure he'd ever feel anything like this again. "We have greater things to accomplish here so-"

"No." Jacob moved as best he could, spinning around and trying to pin whoever it was down. He was vaguely aware of claws slashing at him but he didn't register it. Or rather, his skin wouldn't. He was so detached and his nerves had been shot long ago. He wasn't sure what happened. All the sudden, though, the rain formed into a large spike. Jacob knew vaguely that it was him doing it, though it was more of an instinct than anything else. It then ran itself through the stranger. It was then Jacob realized he hadn't just been fighting another dog. The creature before him was some sort of large cat, though the name of it's species escaped him. This is when he looked at his body. There were scratches all over his body and some deep wounds. He didn't feel them really but that didn't mean anything. If he stayed here, he would bleed out. He might bleed out anyway.

He tried to walk home. He tried to push himself in that direction but the scent was confused by whatever had happened to him and the rain itself. "Deniz!" The word came as a desperate cry and now the man seemed to allow himself time to register everything that had happened. He told himself all that mattered was that his family, that Deniz, was safe. He didn't care about anything else. But even if he couldn't feel the cuts, he knew he was slowing down. He just had to make it home to say goodbye. Finally, he came to camp. He tried to drag himself to the submarine but it was too far. He collapsed before he made it there and he felt a sob rise from him. "P-P-Please, I don' wanna' die. Don' let me leave him 'ere alone. Help me, please, please-" He wasn't sure what he was pleading to. He'd never been one for any sort of religion but here he was. He didn't want to leave, he didn't want Pincher to be left alone. What if Deniz didn't think he tried to come back? What if he didn't understand he hadn't wanted to go? "D-Deniz! Deniz!" he sobbed the name desperately, over and over again.

TAGS • PLAYLIST • MOODBOARD • PENNED BY APRICITY

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[bubblegum]

[Luca]

Interrogations were admittedly pretty tough to deal with, especially when the questions involved someone dear to you. Thanks to Kamasutra's involvement with the mafia, he had found himself in that very position more times than probably necessary. He hated being restrained in some cold dark place, having people shoving all sorts of unpleasant instruments in his face and barking questions at him. He had thought it common knowledge by now that torture was an unreliable way to gain information. The torture-ees were more likely to spit out some lie than anything useful; the best information was picked up over nice dinner and a glass of wine, although he was sure that most interrogators didn't care. After all, many of them didn't harm people solely to get information. They were a bunch of sadists and other weird sex perverts, people that took pleasure in exercising violence over those weaker than them. Luca didn't get it, really. It was more fun when people could put up a good fight.

Speaking of good fights, he could smell blood on the air again. It was a relatively easy scent to pick out, even through the damp petrichor and the sweet-smelling steam that rose off his own body. He'd been smelling that familiar metal tang a lot lately (although to be fair a lot of that could be attributed to the lacerations that covered his nose). Quite honestly, he was growing a little sick of it. He tilted his head and shifted his wings, turning on his paws to head towards the smell. Admittedly, he wasn't showing as much concern as he probably should have, but he had quite frankly used up all the care in his body for the week. Between Silus cutting off his own horns, everything that Junji had gone through, and his own injuries, he was just done with... everything blood and angst related. At least Jacob's yelling had caused him to break into a steady trot, curiosity bringing him forwards at a much brisker pace.

He hadn't interacted with Jacob much, or at all since his joining, so he only managed to recognise the canine once he actually came into sight. At least it wasn't anyone he was close to, he caught himself thinking, but then he shook the thoughts from his mind. Even if he had never had a particularly good relationship with the male, he remembered how down Pincher looked during the last meeting, had picked up on how Goldie's stress levels were rising (even if she'd never really admit it). Jacob was important to a lot of the people he lived among.

"Damn," was all his said as he hopped over, setting his healthy eye on the deepest wounds. Goldie had made it there before him, but he had a feeling that she wouldn't be too much help with healing. He knew he'd have to get Junji or Silus over, but again he was reluctant to leave the injured in such an unstable condition. He attempted to manoeuvre around Goldie and put pressure on the wounds bleeding the heaviest, frowning with the knowledge that his medical expertise had all but escaped him. "Should I like, cauterise the wounds?" That's what Rosemary had always asked him to do. He wondered briefly if Jacob could handle the stress, and then went on to wonder if he could even get his paws hot enough with all this cold rain. In a worst case scenario he'd just give the canine an uncomfortable burn on top of his existing wounds and do nothing to stop the bleeding. "I should probably go look for Junji, huh?" That was a better plan. The pretty little angel would be a welcome sight right about now.

[Verdigris]

  [font=trebuchet ms]Deniz... he had heard that name before, but not for a very long time.

  His wounds had mostly healed since the attack, and so far no one suspected exactly what was going on. A few had expressed concern at his decision to go by a different name- a risk he had been aware of, but had decided would ultimately be worth it in the long run- but they had no idea that he didn't really suffer from amnesia, or that the body's current inhabitant was not actually the crewmate they knew and tolerated. He had not yet regained his ability to speak, and he doubted he ever would, but telepathy would suffice for now. Swallowing food and managing his breathing were still a chore, but he had gotten by well enough. His weakened depth perception was probably the biggest obstacle at this stage of the game, but he would grow used to that too.

  In spite of his predicament, he thought he was doing admirably. His plan (insomuch as he needed one) was progressing beautifully.

  The scent of blood, thick and delicious, enticed Infinitepotential towards its source. The victim, he could smell, was someone that Papercutter had known- someone who had died a short while before the incident. Would killing him count as "harming a Typhoon member?" He had not been within the Typhoon for several weeks now, and he was so weak at the moment... it would take no effort at all.

  The point ultimately turned out to be moot, as his good ear picked up Goldie's cries for help. Of course, this was her father, whose death she had been in furious denial about. Oh, well, he would get his chance to prove his strength another day. As he arrived at the scene, he touched a paw to the ruby hanging from his neck and projected out, "Who was it that attacked you, and are they nearby?" He could detect the scent of some sort of feline, probably a wildcat, but it was muddled by the rain; he couldn't quite tell how old it was. He wasn't used to his olfactory senses being so strong.

  Without waiting for an answer, he went to stand on the other side of Jacob, his lone eye scanning through the rain to watch for unusual movement. It would do them all no good if Jacob's assailant came by and attacked them. "I'll keep watch. Eyepatch, go get the medics."

[Grey]

Entrapment. There are two kinds of entrapment. The first was the physical kind, the one that tore away your own... 'humanity', at along the edges of your sanity. The desire to grasp onto hope yet being unable to, fearing and doubting the strength of your allies. At this moment in time, Bakugou suffers from the second kind. He's become fixated, encapsulated, by this stasis, a standstill that refuses to let him move forwards or backwards. A pain and inability to further himself from the past without the fear of forgetting his human life, thinking it were all a dream and letting it vanish into the nothingness. He does his best to cling onto it, to avoid forgetting that other life but knowing what he's lost makes him wish to forget, but knowing he might forget makes him wish to remember. It a chaotic cycle of contradiction after contradiction and he feels as if he might never find that silver lining, donning the heavens with a brim of peace. Perhaps even now the stress of living has manifested in other ugly ways. He feels like he might collapse, like his own insides are burning up, dissipating into dust and rearranging themselves. His heart is in his stomach and his stomach is in his lungs. Maybe his own intestines are coiling about his ribs, slimy as they wrap along his bones and make him want to gag.

It was not too long ago Bakugou found himself hacking. His vision was imbalanced, shaking and arguing with the fluid of his ears. His brain bickers with the rest of his body too, tearing himself apart and putting himself back together again. It was like every molecule in his body couldn't stay still for just one moment, tremoring in all sorts of different directions that it made the reaver undoubtedly sick. He was trying his best, however, to ignore it but sometimes the pain was so overwhelming that his stride was worse than a stagger, toppling against the wall of his hut and wheezing from the spasms of his muscles which crawled along his neck, retracting and pulling him both ways and begging whatever god out there to make it stop. He stole some painkillers, not sure what they were or what the side effects might be, but swallowed likely more than he needed to. Now Bakugou feels numb, desensitized by what was a spinning world and unable to feel his own fire let along regulate his heating body temperature, blackening the grass he could finally bring himself to walk on.

He heard the cry of a broken man during his casual walk, trying to clear his head. To be completely honest, he first thinks this must be a trickery of his mind, a choke of his own soul and ignores it. But it is when he notices a flash of gold stumbling, staggering, struggling to run towards the noise that Bakugou realises the reality which bounds him, entrapping him to the limitations of this world. He hurries his pace towards the stick that Goldenluxury leaves behind, eyes glistening before his ears twitch at the shout for 'Deniz' echoing again. He knows not to this 'Deniz' but whatever it is, it holds emotional significance to the bengal. Knowing it was likely a useless attempt at being helpful, he picks up the broken stick and follows the young Dealer's scent. He begins to become increasingly aware of the absurdity of his senses, his obscured sense of touch as a result of the drugs he forcefully consumed to try and rid his mind's fixation of the pain. The moment he stops to realise the numbness of his paws, walking suddenly becomes a manual consideration. He has to remember the rolling of weight distributing through his paws, launching from the tips of his toes but unable to precisely feel the motion.

Thankfully, Goldenluxury isn't too far that he is able to place the broken walking stick down and assess the situation through his cold, reflective eyes. He sees Luca make his way over to try and hold down the bleeding, asking if it is best to cauterise the wound before looking at the other crewmate who appears, suggesting 'Eyepatch' (who he easily gathers to be Luca) to go fetch a medic. "I think it needs to be cleaned first," the reaver says, reluctantly remembering the time Kirishima had been attacked by a mysterious rogue. The memories led the male to an emotional stress, convincing his brain that his body was once again in an overwhelming pain because he could remember the way Rosemary carefully maneuvered her water to clear the wound and count him in to try and seal the wound with his fire. He'd always thought of his elemental prowess to be one of destruction rather than healing. Bakugou then flicks his attention to the other male, the one who spoke through the ruby. "Nah, let Luca stay to hold onto that wound. I'll go and find a medic." It'd be dumb to make the one creature trying to stop the bleeding to move and it would be useless if the demon were to let go and swap with someone else. It was best to just...let Luca continue until a sage or soothsayer came about.

Wasting no time, Bakugou begins to turn around. His fur bristles just a little, unsure of where to first look but beginning to walk anyway. Although the situation seemed to be filled with all kinds of mixed emotions, tears and reunions, the ragdoll was still unable to tear his mind away from the pain he had been feeling. It frustrates him. He thinks he's going to die but he can't find the words to express the sensations which tremor beneath his skin, simmer his blood. Bakugou is too anxious to ask about this though. Lately, the injuries and breakdowns of others have always seemed to outweigh whatever issue he was having. Besides, he feels it may be a physical manifestation of his stresses. And yet not knowing why makes him feel even more stressed when he wanders around, looking for a sage or soothsayer. He feels like their supply of healers are dawdling, unable to take the stress of Typhooners all mindlessly crashing into walls filled with spikes or angry trees - that's what it felt like to Bakugou who refused to join them. But the more he waited, the more harm he'd likely do to himself.

[member=1660]JUNJI[/member] [member=1504]Silus R.[/member]

[Luciferr]

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The endless Void, The gazing abyss, The bottomless ocean of [i]horror...It coiled itself around your tender heart[/i]

"If you tire Luca, I can take over" a second voice rumbled as the once again dragon joined the growing number - jacb, jacob hurt badly but alive and sudden;y he was glad that Pincher wouldn't have to mourn like he had all these endless years.

it'd be a miracle if he ever saw either of his long dead wives now - Hexane, light of his life or Marina the cool calm to his soul - both had been separated by millennia in his long lifespan and yet both had been remarkable people, both capable of loving a monster faults and all.

he'd loved them for that.

but here and now, even if it ached that the same miracle wouldn't occur for him as it seemed to have here - at least Pincher would have Jacob back even if the return was heralded in blood and ghastly sight swimming in the rainwater.

rivulets dripped down the plates along his face as silver-mercury and livid-red gazed down at the group - wings spreading up and over them to act as a barrier to the rain, the muffled noise pattering against his wings.

LARGE DRAGON — HELLION [5FEET] — TYPHOON / REAVER — PLAYLIST — TAGS

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[CAESAR CIPHER.]

FORGETTING LIES AND PAIN !

CAESAR CIPHER. MALE. THE TYPHOON. OFFICER.

Of course Caesar had noticed Jacob's disappearance and quite frankly, the demon was glad the guy was gone. He was too soft-hearted for the Officer's taste and annoyed the hell out of him, so it was no surprise that he was glad Jacob was gone. Although just because he was gone doesn't mean his kids were and Caesar unfortunately had to deal with them. The Officer wasn't the kindest to them, mostly due to Jacob being their parent, and they definitely got on his nerve for the same reason. Caesar just believed he had to time to deal with soft hearts and Jacob was the exact thing that word represented.

"You have some nerve coming back." Caesar's tone was flat as he joined the group, staring down at Jacob with an unconcerned frown. He noticed the wounds on the canine's body but paid no mind to them; after all, Luca was already trying to make sure Jacob didn't bleed out. Besides, if Jacob died (or passed out) from the wounds, he could honestly care less. In fact, things would be better off with Jacob dead in his opinion. "You best be proving your loyalty to us again." His words were in a growl, almost like he was threatening the former Snowbound leader.

#psychosocial.