Vigilante
The Red Hood
Contact if you're in a fix.
Made this to communicate with my family, but will answer strangers.
Don't touch the children of Crime Alley.
Hey, Spoiler and Nightingale found out that this place lets you access the multiverse somehow, so I figured I better use the miraculously secure line.
@gothamitenightingale You and Steph have got to be stopped.
Aliases? "The Red Hood, Outlaw."
Origins? "'m not- no." [ U N K N O W N ]
Age? "Wanna guess?" [ U N K N O W N ]
Motives? "Cleanin' up the city, keepin' the people who're mine safe. Don't touch the alley kids or workin' girls."
Location? "Main turf's Crime Alley."
Real name? "...."
[ E R R O R ]
[ O O C ]
[ Some lore and warnings for this Jason under the cut. This will not be canon accurate. There are siblings and people here that aren't featured in canon, and non-canon events that will be referenced.]
Warnings: Canon-typical violence, torture, kidnapping, brainwashing, suicidal ideation(Maybe) and just joker being an awful person in general.
In this canon the joker is very much far from human, and death doesn't stop him. Tim killed him after the J.J incident (more info on how that will be written can be found on the Tim blogs listed below) but he keeps coming back and nobody understands how. So joker is very much alive and a threat in this canon; Do with that what you will.
I will be writing both Bruce and Jason as loving if emotionally constipated sometimes, please don't imply that Bruce is abusive here, it makes me extremely uncomfortable.
This blog is in continuity with the blogs listed below, so any lore of the blogs listed below is canon here and I'm gonna reference it.
Canon family:
Bruce - @bleedingheart-bat
Tim - @caffine-is-better-than-sleep | @tired-baby-bird
Non-canon family:
Jade Lisett Johnson - @randomgothamgirl | @gothamitenightingale. Any and all lore for her is on the pinned post. NOTE: Any and all lore for her is canon to this Jason's timeline and events from that lore will be referenced here.
Ask if you want to be added, I can have two or more of the same character and i promise I won't say no! Even if you're a complete stranger, I'll add you.
This is a WIP blog yet, I'll be updating the post and lore as I go along.
Same sucker with way too many names behind this account. If you want call me Red or spin a wheel for a random name, I answer to anything.
Civies account is @broken-winged-jaybird.
No ships please! No DNI, leave certain stuff at the door.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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//Warning: This thread will be a rough read. Be prepared. Specific CWs will be noted as they come.\\
A head full of poison. Veins ready to burst, burning from the inside out. Skin begging to be peeled back, if only to reveal whatever was wrong below.
Agony.
Snakes push onwards, consuming themselves out of stress. Rats tangle together in panic, only worsening their states as they twist and writhe for freedom. A trapped fox chews off its own leg to escape, yet bleeds out before it can run.
Aster was reading when it happened, examining another section of the scroll in her “closet lab.” (A secret room behind her closet, Ro has one too, he made them. They're essentially bunkers. His is a laboratory, Aster's is... A mess of artifacts.)
Something just...
₴₦₳₱₱ɆĐ.
Her eyes were blown wide, pupils now pinpricks. She let out a strangled gasp and clutched at the table, nails digging into it until her fingers bled.
Harder. Splinters tore through her fingers but she paid them no mind.
Aster stared up at Tim, with pure spiraling madness in her eyes. It writhed and twisted, coiling round and round until all semblance of rationality was gone.
Tim was leafing quietly through some papers. His mind was more stable now, he'd almost backed out of this decision. He trusted Bruce, and this girl didn't seem the most.... put together. But maybe, just maybe she was right, and she was like him, and she wasn't afraid of him. That's what made him stay.
He blinked at her voice and looked up with questioning eyes.
"Aster?"
The madness was back, he knew that- That utter, desparate, out of touch madness that he hated so much. Maybe he shouldn't have done this at all.
She slammed her fist onto the table. It flickered out of existence and ended up inside of it.
Aster's breathing went ragged, heaving each breath out like it hurt. For a moment, Tim could've sworn he saw a glowing, misty figment of pointed teeth..?
Old reflexes kicked in and he jumped back, heart hammering.
Didn't we teach you anything, you useless arrogant boy?!
He blinked away the memories of raised voices and pounding fists, watching her carefully, noting the split-second... something with all the sharpness of a detective's mind. This was bad.
Madness taking over.
Time to dip or time to stay? He could call for help? They'd come for her, surely. The way they never looked for him.
"Okay."
He kept his eyes on her the whole time he backed toward the door.
"Yes, I thought- I've been helping her, I thought that-"
"Save it Replacement, where is she?"
"Her apartment. There's a bunker in the closet- Jay- WAIT!"
"See ya Timbuktu!"
--------
There was a soft thud of boots landing on a windowsil. The panel slid up with a quiet creek, and Jason stepped inside. Messy, certainly not the home of any sane person. Bad.
He tappped his comm. Time to call in backup.
"J?"
"Ya what, please tell me there's a mission."
"Aster's loosin' it. Tim was helpin' her study the curse, I think she might end up killin' herself-"
"S-shut up. Where're you??"
"Her apartment."
"Three minutes, don' let her die Jay please-"
"Won't. Get here soon."
The line disconnected with a click. He sighed.
It wasn't hard to find the bunker, exactly where Tim said it was. The door scraped open reluctantly.
//TW: Mentions of self harm, depictions of gore. Disturbing imagery.\\
Metallic air danced with dust and despair.
A hurricane of insanity had left the room in shambles. Scratch marks lined the walls, and bits and pieces of them had been savagely ripped off... Papers and maps were haphazardly taped all over and scribbled across in purple pen. The table had been battered and broken, slammed to pieces.
Artifacts laid broken, creating a carpet of ceramic and stone. Words... There was a rollercoaster of words everywhere. Some ancient, some modern.
Even just looking at them, Jason felt a- A PULL towards something more. Something... Something beyond.
Written on the floor, the walls, the bloody CEILING and... Blood.
...There was... Holy shit, there was blood everywhere.
Pools, streaks, handprints... ...Runes?
And there, in the middle of it all, sat Aster Voss.
She was kneeling on the ground, surrounded by shredded paper. Her hair was matted with tangles and crimson, eyes wide and manic, and...
Oh, god.
Her arms.
No longer were the ancient symbols drawn, no... No, they were cut. The wounds were deep, nearly to the bone, and glistening with red. Mutilated flesh tore through, flickering... Flickering in and out of existence. A mist seemed to seep outwards, oozing through the gashes.
Despite it all... Aster tilted her head, neck cracked at an unnatural angle, and stared.
He crouched by her side and quickly scanned the injuries, cursing in a variety of colorful ways internally. He quickly made note of the few sharp things there were nearby and kicked the closest one away.
"Oh jeeeeeez- Lemme see that?"
He reached for the roll of gauze he kept in his belt.
Aster rose to her feet and staggered backward, face feral. Her lips curled back, and the mist...
It rose from her flesh, pouring out of the slashes closest to her face, ripping and tearing along the way. It morphed to form a spirit's fangs, jagged and cruel, encircling her mouth and jaw.
“YOU CAN'T STOP ME, TODD. YOU'LL BE KILLING ME IF YOU DO. I can't I SHAN'T LET YOU DO THAT.”
She heaved, panting as waterfalls of blood and mist poured out of her arms. Aster's breathing was heavy, as if her lungs themselves were on the verge of failure. Her body contorted with each breath, making her look downright animalistic.
Mist, once blue, now blood red pooled around Jason's feet.
Aster stumbled backwards and grasped at her face. It was solid. Noting this, she began tearing at it. Her nails were sharp enough to do real damage, but oh, was she desperate.
“thIS IS WHY. IT'S IT-”
She grabbed at her eye and instantly screamed, still feeling pain from it.
His hand shot out with lightning-quick reflexes to grip her mutilated wrist, almost like a bandage holding the flesh together. He felt his stomach twist. He couldn't make himself look.
Don't look. You'll be okay, I promise, just don't look.
Steady hands.
Your hands hold your life. Blood or sand in your eyes, broken limbs, it doesn't matter - Just hold tight.
"Stop."
He slowly pulled her hand away from her face as best he could.
He forced his hands to stay steady and hold tight. He felt frantic. Utterly unequipped and off-guard frantic, trying to keep her from hurting herself. He was just squeezing more blood out wasn't he...? Oh god was that a bone-
Don't. Look.
Steady. Hands.
He tried to hold on through the blood-slick mess- Alright, touch helped right? It was helping- It had to help, it was the last idea he had here.
He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and prayed she didn't punch his eyeballs out.
"Don' know A. 'm not even sure what you're talkin' about."
He admitted slowly. He sighed and let some of the tension drain out of his shoulders.
And he couldn't put this off any longer.
Silently, he made himself look back at the torn flesh and carefully relaxed his grip on her wrist, raising it just a little to get a better look. He quietly took a roll of gauze from his belt and started to stem the bloodflow.
Hatred wasn't an unfamiliar feeling to a man defined by rage. He felt just a little of it curl in his gut, just a little, revenge for a sister he barely knew but already loved.
"Don't look A."
He whispered.
"I promise you'll be okay. Jus' keep your eyes closed for a second."
He finished wrapping it and carefully reached for her other wrist.
“...He was tracking a, a... Spirit is the best word for it. ...Asked me to travel with him, since live experience would do me good and- And if I came and helped him, he'd help me too... But I was fourteen, inexperienced, and...”
...She trailed off, and let the bite mark do the talking.
The pain was indescribable at first. Paralyzing. Now, though, it was only a reminder. A reminder of how...
“...He just ran. Assumed I was dead, and... Left me there...”
“...There's only one thing I... Ever really wanted,” she breathed out a wry laugh. “And it's not to save myself, because I think... I think somehow I knew that couldn't happen. Trying for the impossible, and... All that...”
Relax yourself... You're too tense.
Right...
Breathe.
Aster straightened, only to slump as she exhaled. She rocked her head back so that it rested against the wall with a solid thunk. Her legs slid down, limply resting on the floor.
She was like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Her eyes were dim, skin pale, clearly unwell from loss of blood.
Those are the thoughts of a desparate person rushing from halfway across the city.
She probably ripped a couple papers under her boots when she ran but frick it, none of them were worth her sister's life. Hah, she really was like Jason didn't she? She'd even done for Aster exactly what he'd done for her.
Minds could come up with the strangest idle thoughts when about to break.
The first thing she saw was the blood. It didn't help her elevated heartbeat.
"A- Aster where-"
Her heart nearly stopped. Aster was right there, looking horrible but still moving, still alive.
Alright, that did it. She scrambled over and latched onto Aster's side like a parasite.
Oh god, Aster didn't want to be seen like this. Especially not by a kid- Any kid, but particularly this one. Sure... Most children aren't vigilantes surrounded by death, but that didn't make it feel any better.
She must've been so worried... Ugh, they all must have been... So much for no attachments.
Aster's eyes roamed over Jade in a guilty daze. Their lack of sheen made them appear almost milky.
Aster managed a smile. It... Probably should be concerning that she was able to do so.
“Thanks... Really, thanks.” It's probably good that you missed most of it.
Aster blinked for a second.
“...Actually, that's... That's good, he's been talking tons about Jason's blood lately... Not sure what that's about, but... Ya know. ...That's not too strange for Rowan, but you lot aren't... Ah, used to that yet... So... ...Probably for the best.”
Aster stared at Jason blankly. It was a pure 50/50 split between deadpan disappointment at him missing the obvious and blood loss.
“He's my best friend, I'm not worried about it. This is among the least concerning stunts he's pulled. I just don't want you getting your measurements taken to see if you'll fit in our fridge.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose.
“The last guy he stuck in there panicked and broke the bloody door off. I had to explain that he wasn't about to be murdered.”
“Once. Before I was forcibly adopted. ...he slammed into my window and critiqued the tea I made to make him comfortable despite his concussion. ...it was infuriating, but I also respected the audacity.”
Upon further inspection, there is in fact still a vaguely Robin shaped imprint on the glass. It was impossible to scrub off, like something out of a cartoon... So they had just... Left it there.
//Warning: This thread will be a rough read. Be prepared. Specific CWs will be noted as they come.\\
A head full of poison. Veins ready to burst, burning from the inside out. Skin begging to be peeled back, if only to reveal whatever was wrong below.
Agony.
Snakes push onwards, consuming themselves out of stress. Rats tangle together in panic, only worsening their states as they twist and writhe for freedom. A trapped fox chews off its own leg to escape, yet bleeds out before it can run.
Aster was reading when it happened, examining another section of the scroll in her “closet lab.” (A secret room behind her closet, Ro has one too, he made them. They're essentially bunkers. His is a laboratory, Aster's is... A mess of artifacts.)
Something just...
₴₦₳₱₱ɆĐ.
Her eyes were blown wide, pupils now pinpricks. She let out a strangled gasp and clutched at the table, nails digging into it until her fingers bled.
Harder. Splinters tore through her fingers but she paid them no mind.
Aster stared up at Tim, with pure spiraling madness in her eyes. It writhed and twisted, coiling round and round until all semblance of rationality was gone.
Tim was leafing quietly through some papers. His mind was more stable now, he'd almost backed out of this decision. He trusted Bruce, and this girl didn't seem the most.... put together. But maybe, just maybe she was right, and she was like him, and she wasn't afraid of him. That's what made him stay.
He blinked at her voice and looked up with questioning eyes.
"Aster?"
The madness was back, he knew that- That utter, desparate, out of touch madness that he hated so much. Maybe he shouldn't have done this at all.
She slammed her fist onto the table. It flickered out of existence and ended up inside of it.
Aster's breathing went ragged, heaving each breath out like it hurt. For a moment, Tim could've sworn he saw a glowing, misty figment of pointed teeth..?
Old reflexes kicked in and he jumped back, heart hammering.
Didn't we teach you anything, you useless arrogant boy?!
He blinked away the memories of raised voices and pounding fists, watching her carefully, noting the split-second... something with all the sharpness of a detective's mind. This was bad.
Madness taking over.
Time to dip or time to stay? He could call for help? They'd come for her, surely. The way they never looked for him.
"Okay."
He kept his eyes on her the whole time he backed toward the door.
"Yes, I thought- I've been helping her, I thought that-"
"Save it Replacement, where is she?"
"Her apartment. There's a bunker in the closet- Jay- WAIT!"
"See ya Timbuktu!"
--------
There was a soft thud of boots landing on a windowsil. The panel slid up with a quiet creek, and Jason stepped inside. Messy, certainly not the home of any sane person. Bad.
He tappped his comm. Time to call in backup.
"J?"
"Ya what, please tell me there's a mission."
"Aster's loosin' it. Tim was helpin' her study the curse, I think she might end up killin' herself-"
"S-shut up. Where're you??"
"Her apartment."
"Three minutes, don' let her die Jay please-"
"Won't. Get here soon."
The line disconnected with a click. He sighed.
It wasn't hard to find the bunker, exactly where Tim said it was. The door scraped open reluctantly.
//TW: Mentions of self harm, depictions of gore. Disturbing imagery.\\
Metallic air danced with dust and despair.
A hurricane of insanity had left the room in shambles. Scratch marks lined the walls, and bits and pieces of them had been savagely ripped off... Papers and maps were haphazardly taped all over and scribbled across in purple pen. The table had been battered and broken, slammed to pieces.
Artifacts laid broken, creating a carpet of ceramic and stone. Words... There was a rollercoaster of words everywhere. Some ancient, some modern.
Even just looking at them, Jason felt a- A PULL towards something more. Something... Something beyond.
Written on the floor, the walls, the bloody CEILING and... Blood.
...There was... Holy shit, there was blood everywhere.
Pools, streaks, handprints... ...Runes?
And there, in the middle of it all, sat Aster Voss.
She was kneeling on the ground, surrounded by shredded paper. Her hair was matted with tangles and crimson, eyes wide and manic, and...
Oh, god.
Her arms.
No longer were the ancient symbols drawn, no... No, they were cut. The wounds were deep, nearly to the bone, and glistening with red. Mutilated flesh tore through, flickering... Flickering in and out of existence. A mist seemed to seep outwards, oozing through the gashes.
Despite it all... Aster tilted her head, neck cracked at an unnatural angle, and stared.
He crouched by her side and quickly scanned the injuries, cursing in a variety of colorful ways internally. He quickly made note of the few sharp things there were nearby and kicked the closest one away.
"Oh jeeeeeez- Lemme see that?"
He reached for the roll of gauze he kept in his belt.
Aster rose to her feet and staggered backward, face feral. Her lips curled back, and the mist...
It rose from her flesh, pouring out of the slashes closest to her face, ripping and tearing along the way. It morphed to form a spirit's fangs, jagged and cruel, encircling her mouth and jaw.
“YOU CAN'T STOP ME, TODD. YOU'LL BE KILLING ME IF YOU DO. I can't I SHAN'T LET YOU DO THAT.”
She heaved, panting as waterfalls of blood and mist poured out of her arms. Aster's breathing was heavy, as if her lungs themselves were on the verge of failure. Her body contorted with each breath, making her look downright animalistic.
Mist, once blue, now blood red pooled around Jason's feet.
Aster stumbled backwards and grasped at her face. It was solid. Noting this, she began tearing at it. Her nails were sharp enough to do real damage, but oh, was she desperate.
“thIS IS WHY. IT'S IT-”
She grabbed at her eye and instantly screamed, still feeling pain from it.
His hand shot out with lightning-quick reflexes to grip her mutilated wrist, almost like a bandage holding the flesh together. He felt his stomach twist. He couldn't make himself look.
Don't look. You'll be okay, I promise, just don't look.
Steady hands.
Your hands hold your life. Blood or sand in your eyes, broken limbs, it doesn't matter - Just hold tight.
"Stop."
He slowly pulled her hand away from her face as best he could.
He forced his hands to stay steady and hold tight. He felt frantic. Utterly unequipped and off-guard frantic, trying to keep her from hurting herself. He was just squeezing more blood out wasn't he...? Oh god was that a bone-
Don't. Look.
Steady. Hands.
He tried to hold on through the blood-slick mess- Alright, touch helped right? It was helping- It had to help, it was the last idea he had here.
He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and prayed she didn't punch his eyeballs out.
"Don' know A. 'm not even sure what you're talkin' about."
He admitted slowly. He sighed and let some of the tension drain out of his shoulders.
And he couldn't put this off any longer.
Silently, he made himself look back at the torn flesh and carefully relaxed his grip on her wrist, raising it just a little to get a better look. He quietly took a roll of gauze from his belt and started to stem the bloodflow.
Hatred wasn't an unfamiliar feeling to a man defined by rage. He felt just a little of it curl in his gut, just a little, revenge for a sister he barely knew but already loved.
"Don't look A."
He whispered.
"I promise you'll be okay. Jus' keep your eyes closed for a second."
He finished wrapping it and carefully reached for her other wrist.
“...He was tracking a, a... Spirit is the best word for it. ...Asked me to travel with him, since live experience would do me good and- And if I came and helped him, he'd help me too... But I was fourteen, inexperienced, and...”
...She trailed off, and let the bite mark do the talking.
The pain was indescribable at first. Paralyzing. Now, though, it was only a reminder. A reminder of how...
“...He just ran. Assumed I was dead, and... Left me there...”
“...There's only one thing I... Ever really wanted,” she breathed out a wry laugh. “And it's not to save myself, because I think... I think somehow I knew that couldn't happen. Trying for the impossible, and... All that...”
Relax yourself... You're too tense.
Right...
Breathe.
Aster straightened, only to slump as she exhaled. She rocked her head back so that it rested against the wall with a solid thunk. Her legs slid down, limply resting on the floor.
She was like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Her eyes were dim, skin pale, clearly unwell from loss of blood.
Those are the thoughts of a desparate person rushing from halfway across the city.
She probably ripped a couple papers under her boots when she ran but frick it, none of them were worth her sister's life. Hah, she really was like Jason didn't she? She'd even done for Aster exactly what he'd done for her.
Minds could come up with the strangest idle thoughts when about to break.
The first thing she saw was the blood. It didn't help her elevated heartbeat.
"A- Aster where-"
Her heart nearly stopped. Aster was right there, looking horrible but still moving, still alive.
Alright, that did it. She scrambled over and latched onto Aster's side like a parasite.
Oh god, Aster didn't want to be seen like this. Especially not by a kid- Any kid, but particularly this one. Sure... Most children aren't vigilantes surrounded by death, but that didn't make it feel any better.
She must've been so worried... Ugh, they all must have been... So much for no attachments.
Aster's eyes roamed over Jade in a guilty daze. Their lack of sheen made them appear almost milky.
Aster managed a smile. It... Probably should be concerning that she was able to do so.
“Thanks... Really, thanks.” It's probably good that you missed most of it.
Aster blinked for a second.
“...Actually, that's... That's good, he's been talking tons about Jason's blood lately... Not sure what that's about, but... Ya know. ...That's not too strange for Rowan, but you lot aren't... Ah, used to that yet... So... ...Probably for the best.”
Aster stared at Jason blankly. It was a pure 50/50 split between deadpan disappointment at him missing the obvious and blood loss.
“He's my best friend, I'm not worried about it. This is among the least concerning stunts he's pulled. I just don't want you getting your measurements taken to see if you'll fit in our fridge.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose.
“The last guy he stuck in there panicked and broke the bloody door off. I had to explain that he wasn't about to be murdered.”
//Warning: This thread will be a rough read. Be prepared. Specific CWs will be noted as they come.\\
A head full of poison. Veins ready to burst, burning from the inside out. Skin begging to be peeled back, if only to reveal whatever was wrong below.
Agony.
Snakes push onwards, consuming themselves out of stress. Rats tangle together in panic, only worsening their states as they twist and writhe for freedom. A trapped fox chews off its own leg to escape, yet bleeds out before it can run.
Aster was reading when it happened, examining another section of the scroll in her “closet lab.” (A secret room behind her closet, Ro has one too, he made them. They're essentially bunkers. His is a laboratory, Aster's is... A mess of artifacts.)
Something just...
₴₦₳₱₱ɆĐ.
Her eyes were blown wide, pupils now pinpricks. She let out a strangled gasp and clutched at the table, nails digging into it until her fingers bled.
Harder. Splinters tore through her fingers but she paid them no mind.
Aster stared up at Tim, with pure spiraling madness in her eyes. It writhed and twisted, coiling round and round until all semblance of rationality was gone.
Tim was leafing quietly through some papers. His mind was more stable now, he'd almost backed out of this decision. He trusted Bruce, and this girl didn't seem the most.... put together. But maybe, just maybe she was right, and she was like him, and she wasn't afraid of him. That's what made him stay.
He blinked at her voice and looked up with questioning eyes.
"Aster?"
The madness was back, he knew that- That utter, desparate, out of touch madness that he hated so much. Maybe he shouldn't have done this at all.
She slammed her fist onto the table. It flickered out of existence and ended up inside of it.
Aster's breathing went ragged, heaving each breath out like it hurt. For a moment, Tim could've sworn he saw a glowing, misty figment of pointed teeth..?
Old reflexes kicked in and he jumped back, heart hammering.
Didn't we teach you anything, you useless arrogant boy?!
He blinked away the memories of raised voices and pounding fists, watching her carefully, noting the split-second... something with all the sharpness of a detective's mind. This was bad.
Madness taking over.
Time to dip or time to stay? He could call for help? They'd come for her, surely. The way they never looked for him.
"Okay."
He kept his eyes on her the whole time he backed toward the door.
"Yes, I thought- I've been helping her, I thought that-"
"Save it Replacement, where is she?"
"Her apartment. There's a bunker in the closet- Jay- WAIT!"
"See ya Timbuktu!"
--------
There was a soft thud of boots landing on a windowsil. The panel slid up with a quiet creek, and Jason stepped inside. Messy, certainly not the home of any sane person. Bad.
He tappped his comm. Time to call in backup.
"J?"
"Ya what, please tell me there's a mission."
"Aster's loosin' it. Tim was helpin' her study the curse, I think she might end up killin' herself-"
"S-shut up. Where're you??"
"Her apartment."
"Three minutes, don' let her die Jay please-"
"Won't. Get here soon."
The line disconnected with a click. He sighed.
It wasn't hard to find the bunker, exactly where Tim said it was. The door scraped open reluctantly.
//TW: Mentions of self harm, depictions of gore. Disturbing imagery.\\
Metallic air danced with dust and despair.
A hurricane of insanity had left the room in shambles. Scratch marks lined the walls, and bits and pieces of them had been savagely ripped off... Papers and maps were haphazardly taped all over and scribbled across in purple pen. The table had been battered and broken, slammed to pieces.
Artifacts laid broken, creating a carpet of ceramic and stone. Words... There was a rollercoaster of words everywhere. Some ancient, some modern.
Even just looking at them, Jason felt a- A PULL towards something more. Something... Something beyond.
Written on the floor, the walls, the bloody CEILING and... Blood.
...There was... Holy shit, there was blood everywhere.
Pools, streaks, handprints... ...Runes?
And there, in the middle of it all, sat Aster Voss.
She was kneeling on the ground, surrounded by shredded paper. Her hair was matted with tangles and crimson, eyes wide and manic, and...
Oh, god.
Her arms.
No longer were the ancient symbols drawn, no... No, they were cut. The wounds were deep, nearly to the bone, and glistening with red. Mutilated flesh tore through, flickering... Flickering in and out of existence. A mist seemed to seep outwards, oozing through the gashes.
Despite it all... Aster tilted her head, neck cracked at an unnatural angle, and stared.
He crouched by her side and quickly scanned the injuries, cursing in a variety of colorful ways internally. He quickly made note of the few sharp things there were nearby and kicked the closest one away.
"Oh jeeeeeez- Lemme see that?"
He reached for the roll of gauze he kept in his belt.
Aster rose to her feet and staggered backward, face feral. Her lips curled back, and the mist...
It rose from her flesh, pouring out of the slashes closest to her face, ripping and tearing along the way. It morphed to form a spirit's fangs, jagged and cruel, encircling her mouth and jaw.
“YOU CAN'T STOP ME, TODD. YOU'LL BE KILLING ME IF YOU DO. I can't I SHAN'T LET YOU DO THAT.”
She heaved, panting as waterfalls of blood and mist poured out of her arms. Aster's breathing was heavy, as if her lungs themselves were on the verge of failure. Her body contorted with each breath, making her look downright animalistic.
Mist, once blue, now blood red pooled around Jason's feet.
Aster stumbled backwards and grasped at her face. It was solid. Noting this, she began tearing at it. Her nails were sharp enough to do real damage, but oh, was she desperate.
“thIS IS WHY. IT'S IT-”
She grabbed at her eye and instantly screamed, still feeling pain from it.
His hand shot out with lightning-quick reflexes to grip her mutilated wrist, almost like a bandage holding the flesh together. He felt his stomach twist. He couldn't make himself look.
Don't look. You'll be okay, I promise, just don't look.
Steady hands.
Your hands hold your life. Blood or sand in your eyes, broken limbs, it doesn't matter - Just hold tight.
"Stop."
He slowly pulled her hand away from her face as best he could.
He forced his hands to stay steady and hold tight. He felt frantic. Utterly unequipped and off-guard frantic, trying to keep her from hurting herself. He was just squeezing more blood out wasn't he...? Oh god was that a bone-
Don't. Look.
Steady. Hands.
He tried to hold on through the blood-slick mess- Alright, touch helped right? It was helping- It had to help, it was the last idea he had here.
He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and prayed she didn't punch his eyeballs out.
"Don' know A. 'm not even sure what you're talkin' about."
He admitted slowly. He sighed and let some of the tension drain out of his shoulders.
And he couldn't put this off any longer.
Silently, he made himself look back at the torn flesh and carefully relaxed his grip on her wrist, raising it just a little to get a better look. He quietly took a roll of gauze from his belt and started to stem the bloodflow.
Hatred wasn't an unfamiliar feeling to a man defined by rage. He felt just a little of it curl in his gut, just a little, revenge for a sister he barely knew but already loved.
"Don't look A."
He whispered.
"I promise you'll be okay. Jus' keep your eyes closed for a second."
He finished wrapping it and carefully reached for her other wrist.
“...He was tracking a, a... Spirit is the best word for it. ...Asked me to travel with him, since live experience would do me good and- And if I came and helped him, he'd help me too... But I was fourteen, inexperienced, and...”
...She trailed off, and let the bite mark do the talking.
The pain was indescribable at first. Paralyzing. Now, though, it was only a reminder. A reminder of how...
“...He just ran. Assumed I was dead, and... Left me there...”
“...There's only one thing I... Ever really wanted,” she breathed out a wry laugh. “And it's not to save myself, because I think... I think somehow I knew that couldn't happen. Trying for the impossible, and... All that...”
Relax yourself... You're too tense.
Right...
Breathe.
Aster straightened, only to slump as she exhaled. She rocked her head back so that it rested against the wall with a solid thunk. Her legs slid down, limply resting on the floor.
She was like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Her eyes were dim, skin pale, clearly unwell from loss of blood.
Those are the thoughts of a desparate person rushing from halfway across the city.
She probably ripped a couple papers under her boots when she ran but frick it, none of them were worth her sister's life. Hah, she really was like Jason didn't she? She'd even done for Aster exactly what he'd done for her.
Minds could come up with the strangest idle thoughts when about to break.
The first thing she saw was the blood. It didn't help her elevated heartbeat.
"A- Aster where-"
Her heart nearly stopped. Aster was right there, looking horrible but still moving, still alive.
Alright, that did it. She scrambled over and latched onto Aster's side like a parasite.
Oh god, Aster didn't want to be seen like this. Especially not by a kid- Any kid, but particularly this one. Sure... Most children aren't vigilantes surrounded by death, but that didn't make it feel any better.
She must've been so worried... Ugh, they all must have been... So much for no attachments.
Aster's eyes roamed over Jade in a guilty daze. Their lack of sheen made them appear almost milky.
Aster managed a smile. It... Probably should be concerning that she was able to do so.
“Thanks... Really, thanks.” It's probably good that you missed most of it.
Aster blinked for a second.
“...Actually, that's... That's good, he's been talking tons about Jason's blood lately... Not sure what that's about, but... Ya know. ...That's not too strange for Rowan, but you lot aren't... Ah, used to that yet... So... ...Probably for the best.”
Aster stared at Jason blankly. It was a pure 50/50 split between deadpan disappointment at him missing the obvious and blood loss.
“He's my best friend, I'm not worried about it. This is among the least concerning stunts he's pulled. I just don't want you getting your measurements taken to see if you'll fit in our fridge.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose.
“The last guy he stuck in there panicked and broke the bloody door off. I had to explain that he wasn't about to be murdered.”
//Warning: This thread will be a rough read. Be prepared. Specific CWs will be noted as they come.\\
A head full of poison. Veins ready to burst, burning from the inside out. Skin begging to be peeled back, if only to reveal whatever was wrong below.
Agony.
Snakes push onwards, consuming themselves out of stress. Rats tangle together in panic, only worsening their states as they twist and writhe for freedom. A trapped fox chews off its own leg to escape, yet bleeds out before it can run.
Aster was reading when it happened, examining another section of the scroll in her “closet lab.” (A secret room behind her closet, Ro has one too, he made them. They're essentially bunkers. His is a laboratory, Aster's is... A mess of artifacts.)
Something just...
₴₦₳₱₱ɆĐ.
Her eyes were blown wide, pupils now pinpricks. She let out a strangled gasp and clutched at the table, nails digging into it until her fingers bled.
Harder. Splinters tore through her fingers but she paid them no mind.
Aster stared up at Tim, with pure spiraling madness in her eyes. It writhed and twisted, coiling round and round until all semblance of rationality was gone.
Tim was leafing quietly through some papers. His mind was more stable now, he'd almost backed out of this decision. He trusted Bruce, and this girl didn't seem the most.... put together. But maybe, just maybe she was right, and she was like him, and she wasn't afraid of him. That's what made him stay.
He blinked at her voice and looked up with questioning eyes.
"Aster?"
The madness was back, he knew that- That utter, desparate, out of touch madness that he hated so much. Maybe he shouldn't have done this at all.
She slammed her fist onto the table. It flickered out of existence and ended up inside of it.
Aster's breathing went ragged, heaving each breath out like it hurt. For a moment, Tim could've sworn he saw a glowing, misty figment of pointed teeth..?
Old reflexes kicked in and he jumped back, heart hammering.
Didn't we teach you anything, you useless arrogant boy?!
He blinked away the memories of raised voices and pounding fists, watching her carefully, noting the split-second... something with all the sharpness of a detective's mind. This was bad.
Madness taking over.
Time to dip or time to stay? He could call for help? They'd come for her, surely. The way they never looked for him.
"Okay."
He kept his eyes on her the whole time he backed toward the door.
"Yes, I thought- I've been helping her, I thought that-"
"Save it Replacement, where is she?"
"Her apartment. There's a bunker in the closet- Jay- WAIT!"
"See ya Timbuktu!"
--------
There was a soft thud of boots landing on a windowsil. The panel slid up with a quiet creek, and Jason stepped inside. Messy, certainly not the home of any sane person. Bad.
He tappped his comm. Time to call in backup.
"J?"
"Ya what, please tell me there's a mission."
"Aster's loosin' it. Tim was helpin' her study the curse, I think she might end up killin' herself-"
"S-shut up. Where're you??"
"Her apartment."
"Three minutes, don' let her die Jay please-"
"Won't. Get here soon."
The line disconnected with a click. He sighed.
It wasn't hard to find the bunker, exactly where Tim said it was. The door scraped open reluctantly.
//TW: Mentions of self harm, depictions of gore. Disturbing imagery.\\
Metallic air danced with dust and despair.
A hurricane of insanity had left the room in shambles. Scratch marks lined the walls, and bits and pieces of them had been savagely ripped off... Papers and maps were haphazardly taped all over and scribbled across in purple pen. The table had been battered and broken, slammed to pieces.
Artifacts laid broken, creating a carpet of ceramic and stone. Words... There was a rollercoaster of words everywhere. Some ancient, some modern.
Even just looking at them, Jason felt a- A PULL towards something more. Something... Something beyond.
Written on the floor, the walls, the bloody CEILING and... Blood.
...There was... Holy shit, there was blood everywhere.
Pools, streaks, handprints... ...Runes?
And there, in the middle of it all, sat Aster Voss.
She was kneeling on the ground, surrounded by shredded paper. Her hair was matted with tangles and crimson, eyes wide and manic, and...
Oh, god.
Her arms.
No longer were the ancient symbols drawn, no... No, they were cut. The wounds were deep, nearly to the bone, and glistening with red. Mutilated flesh tore through, flickering... Flickering in and out of existence. A mist seemed to seep outwards, oozing through the gashes.
Despite it all... Aster tilted her head, neck cracked at an unnatural angle, and stared.
He crouched by her side and quickly scanned the injuries, cursing in a variety of colorful ways internally. He quickly made note of the few sharp things there were nearby and kicked the closest one away.
"Oh jeeeeeez- Lemme see that?"
He reached for the roll of gauze he kept in his belt.
Aster rose to her feet and staggered backward, face feral. Her lips curled back, and the mist...
It rose from her flesh, pouring out of the slashes closest to her face, ripping and tearing along the way. It morphed to form a spirit's fangs, jagged and cruel, encircling her mouth and jaw.
“YOU CAN'T STOP ME, TODD. YOU'LL BE KILLING ME IF YOU DO. I can't I SHAN'T LET YOU DO THAT.”
She heaved, panting as waterfalls of blood and mist poured out of her arms. Aster's breathing was heavy, as if her lungs themselves were on the verge of failure. Her body contorted with each breath, making her look downright animalistic.
Mist, once blue, now blood red pooled around Jason's feet.
Aster stumbled backwards and grasped at her face. It was solid. Noting this, she began tearing at it. Her nails were sharp enough to do real damage, but oh, was she desperate.
“thIS IS WHY. IT'S IT-”
She grabbed at her eye and instantly screamed, still feeling pain from it.
His hand shot out with lightning-quick reflexes to grip her mutilated wrist, almost like a bandage holding the flesh together. He felt his stomach twist. He couldn't make himself look.
Don't look. You'll be okay, I promise, just don't look.
Steady hands.
Your hands hold your life. Blood or sand in your eyes, broken limbs, it doesn't matter - Just hold tight.
"Stop."
He slowly pulled her hand away from her face as best he could.
He forced his hands to stay steady and hold tight. He felt frantic. Utterly unequipped and off-guard frantic, trying to keep her from hurting herself. He was just squeezing more blood out wasn't he...? Oh god was that a bone-
Don't. Look.
Steady. Hands.
He tried to hold on through the blood-slick mess- Alright, touch helped right? It was helping- It had to help, it was the last idea he had here.
He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and prayed she didn't punch his eyeballs out.
"Don' know A. 'm not even sure what you're talkin' about."
He admitted slowly. He sighed and let some of the tension drain out of his shoulders.
And he couldn't put this off any longer.
Silently, he made himself look back at the torn flesh and carefully relaxed his grip on her wrist, raising it just a little to get a better look. He quietly took a roll of gauze from his belt and started to stem the bloodflow.
Hatred wasn't an unfamiliar feeling to a man defined by rage. He felt just a little of it curl in his gut, just a little, revenge for a sister he barely knew but already loved.
"Don't look A."
He whispered.
"I promise you'll be okay. Jus' keep your eyes closed for a second."
He finished wrapping it and carefully reached for her other wrist.
“...He was tracking a, a... Spirit is the best word for it. ...Asked me to travel with him, since live experience would do me good and- And if I came and helped him, he'd help me too... But I was fourteen, inexperienced, and...”
...She trailed off, and let the bite mark do the talking.
The pain was indescribable at first. Paralyzing. Now, though, it was only a reminder. A reminder of how...
“...He just ran. Assumed I was dead, and... Left me there...”
“...There's only one thing I... Ever really wanted,” she breathed out a wry laugh. “And it's not to save myself, because I think... I think somehow I knew that couldn't happen. Trying for the impossible, and... All that...”
Relax yourself... You're too tense.
Right...
Breathe.
Aster straightened, only to slump as she exhaled. She rocked her head back so that it rested against the wall with a solid thunk. Her legs slid down, limply resting on the floor.
She was like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Her eyes were dim, skin pale, clearly unwell from loss of blood.
Those are the thoughts of a desparate person rushing from halfway across the city.
She probably ripped a couple papers under her boots when she ran but frick it, none of them were worth her sister's life. Hah, she really was like Jason didn't she? She'd even done for Aster exactly what he'd done for her.
Minds could come up with the strangest idle thoughts when about to break.
The first thing she saw was the blood. It didn't help her elevated heartbeat.
"A- Aster where-"
Her heart nearly stopped. Aster was right there, looking horrible but still moving, still alive.
Alright, that did it. She scrambled over and latched onto Aster's side like a parasite.
Oh god, Aster didn't want to be seen like this. Especially not by a kid- Any kid, but particularly this one. Sure... Most children aren't vigilantes surrounded by death, but that didn't make it feel any better.
She must've been so worried... Ugh, they all must have been... So much for no attachments.
Aster's eyes roamed over Jade in a guilty daze. Their lack of sheen made them appear almost milky.
Aster managed a smile. It... Probably should be concerning that she was able to do so.
“Thanks... Really, thanks.” It's probably good that you missed most of it.
Aster blinked for a second.
“...Actually, that's... That's good, he's been talking tons about Jason's blood lately... Not sure what that's about, but... Ya know. ...That's not too strange for Rowan, but you lot aren't... Ah, used to that yet... So... ...Probably for the best.”
Aster stared at Jason blankly. It was a pure 50/50 split between deadpan disappointment at him missing the obvious and blood loss.
“He's my best friend, I'm not worried about it. This is among the least concerning stunts he's pulled. I just don't want you getting your measurements taken to see if you'll fit in our fridge.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose.
“The last guy he stuck in there panicked and broke the bloody door off. I had to explain that he wasn't about to be murdered.”
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//Warning: This thread will be a rough read. Be prepared. Specific CWs will be noted as they come.\\
A head full of poison. Veins ready to burst, burning from the inside out. Skin begging to be peeled back, if only to reveal whatever was wrong below.
Agony.
Snakes push onwards, consuming themselves out of stress. Rats tangle together in panic, only worsening their states as they twist and writhe for freedom. A trapped fox chews off its own leg to escape, yet bleeds out before it can run.
Aster was reading when it happened, examining another section of the scroll in her “closet lab.” (A secret room behind her closet, Ro has one too, he made them. They're essentially bunkers. His is a laboratory, Aster's is... A mess of artifacts.)
Something just...
₴₦₳₱₱ɆĐ.
Her eyes were blown wide, pupils now pinpricks. She let out a strangled gasp and clutched at the table, nails digging into it until her fingers bled.
Harder. Splinters tore through her fingers but she paid them no mind.
Aster stared up at Tim, with pure spiraling madness in her eyes. It writhed and twisted, coiling round and round until all semblance of rationality was gone.
Tim was leafing quietly through some papers. His mind was more stable now, he'd almost backed out of this decision. He trusted Bruce, and this girl didn't seem the most.... put together. But maybe, just maybe she was right, and she was like him, and she wasn't afraid of him. That's what made him stay.
He blinked at her voice and looked up with questioning eyes.
"Aster?"
The madness was back, he knew that- That utter, desparate, out of touch madness that he hated so much. Maybe he shouldn't have done this at all.
She slammed her fist onto the table. It flickered out of existence and ended up inside of it.
Aster's breathing went ragged, heaving each breath out like it hurt. For a moment, Tim could've sworn he saw a glowing, misty figment of pointed teeth..?
Old reflexes kicked in and he jumped back, heart hammering.
Didn't we teach you anything, you useless arrogant boy?!
He blinked away the memories of raised voices and pounding fists, watching her carefully, noting the split-second... something with all the sharpness of a detective's mind. This was bad.
Madness taking over.
Time to dip or time to stay? He could call for help? They'd come for her, surely. The way they never looked for him.
"Okay."
He kept his eyes on her the whole time he backed toward the door.
"Yes, I thought- I've been helping her, I thought that-"
"Save it Replacement, where is she?"
"Her apartment. There's a bunker in the closet- Jay- WAIT!"
"See ya Timbuktu!"
--------
There was a soft thud of boots landing on a windowsil. The panel slid up with a quiet creek, and Jason stepped inside. Messy, certainly not the home of any sane person. Bad.
He tappped his comm. Time to call in backup.
"J?"
"Ya what, please tell me there's a mission."
"Aster's loosin' it. Tim was helpin' her study the curse, I think she might end up killin' herself-"
"S-shut up. Where're you??"
"Her apartment."
"Three minutes, don' let her die Jay please-"
"Won't. Get here soon."
The line disconnected with a click. He sighed.
It wasn't hard to find the bunker, exactly where Tim said it was. The door scraped open reluctantly.
//TW: Mentions of self harm, depictions of gore. Disturbing imagery.\\
Metallic air danced with dust and despair.
A hurricane of insanity had left the room in shambles. Scratch marks lined the walls, and bits and pieces of them had been savagely ripped off... Papers and maps were haphazardly taped all over and scribbled across in purple pen. The table had been battered and broken, slammed to pieces.
Artifacts laid broken, creating a carpet of ceramic and stone. Words... There was a rollercoaster of words everywhere. Some ancient, some modern.
Even just looking at them, Jason felt a- A PULL towards something more. Something... Something beyond.
Written on the floor, the walls, the bloody CEILING and... Blood.
...There was... Holy shit, there was blood everywhere.
Pools, streaks, handprints... ...Runes?
And there, in the middle of it all, sat Aster Voss.
She was kneeling on the ground, surrounded by shredded paper. Her hair was matted with tangles and crimson, eyes wide and manic, and...
Oh, god.
Her arms.
No longer were the ancient symbols drawn, no... No, they were cut. The wounds were deep, nearly to the bone, and glistening with red. Mutilated flesh tore through, flickering... Flickering in and out of existence. A mist seemed to seep outwards, oozing through the gashes.
Despite it all... Aster tilted her head, neck cracked at an unnatural angle, and stared.
He crouched by her side and quickly scanned the injuries, cursing in a variety of colorful ways internally. He quickly made note of the few sharp things there were nearby and kicked the closest one away.
"Oh jeeeeeez- Lemme see that?"
He reached for the roll of gauze he kept in his belt.
Aster rose to her feet and staggered backward, face feral. Her lips curled back, and the mist...
It rose from her flesh, pouring out of the slashes closest to her face, ripping and tearing along the way. It morphed to form a spirit's fangs, jagged and cruel, encircling her mouth and jaw.
“YOU CAN'T STOP ME, TODD. YOU'LL BE KILLING ME IF YOU DO. I can't I SHAN'T LET YOU DO THAT.”
She heaved, panting as waterfalls of blood and mist poured out of her arms. Aster's breathing was heavy, as if her lungs themselves were on the verge of failure. Her body contorted with each breath, making her look downright animalistic.
Mist, once blue, now blood red pooled around Jason's feet.
Aster stumbled backwards and grasped at her face. It was solid. Noting this, she began tearing at it. Her nails were sharp enough to do real damage, but oh, was she desperate.
“thIS IS WHY. IT'S IT-”
She grabbed at her eye and instantly screamed, still feeling pain from it.
His hand shot out with lightning-quick reflexes to grip her mutilated wrist, almost like a bandage holding the flesh together. He felt his stomach twist. He couldn't make himself look.
Don't look. You'll be okay, I promise, just don't look.
Steady hands.
Your hands hold your life. Blood or sand in your eyes, broken limbs, it doesn't matter - Just hold tight.
"Stop."
He slowly pulled her hand away from her face as best he could.
He forced his hands to stay steady and hold tight. He felt frantic. Utterly unequipped and off-guard frantic, trying to keep her from hurting herself. He was just squeezing more blood out wasn't he...? Oh god was that a bone-
Don't. Look.
Steady. Hands.
He tried to hold on through the blood-slick mess- Alright, touch helped right? It was helping- It had to help, it was the last idea he had here.
He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and prayed she didn't punch his eyeballs out.
"Don' know A. 'm not even sure what you're talkin' about."
He admitted slowly. He sighed and let some of the tension drain out of his shoulders.
And he couldn't put this off any longer.
Silently, he made himself look back at the torn flesh and carefully relaxed his grip on her wrist, raising it just a little to get a better look. He quietly took a roll of gauze from his belt and started to stem the bloodflow.
Hatred wasn't an unfamiliar feeling to a man defined by rage. He felt just a little of it curl in his gut, just a little, revenge for a sister he barely knew but already loved.
"Don't look A."
He whispered.
"I promise you'll be okay. Jus' keep your eyes closed for a second."
He finished wrapping it and carefully reached for her other wrist.
“...He was tracking a, a... Spirit is the best word for it. ...Asked me to travel with him, since live experience would do me good and- And if I came and helped him, he'd help me too... But I was fourteen, inexperienced, and...”
...She trailed off, and let the bite mark do the talking.
The pain was indescribable at first. Paralyzing. Now, though, it was only a reminder. A reminder of how...
“...He just ran. Assumed I was dead, and... Left me there...”
“...There's only one thing I... Ever really wanted,” she breathed out a wry laugh. “And it's not to save myself, because I think... I think somehow I knew that couldn't happen. Trying for the impossible, and... All that...”
Relax yourself... You're too tense.
Right...
Breathe.
Aster straightened, only to slump as she exhaled. She rocked her head back so that it rested against the wall with a solid thunk. Her legs slid down, limply resting on the floor.
She was like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Her eyes were dim, skin pale, clearly unwell from loss of blood.
Those are the thoughts of a desparate person rushing from halfway across the city.
She probably ripped a couple papers under her boots when she ran but frick it, none of them were worth her sister's life. Hah, she really was like Jason didn't she? She'd even done for Aster exactly what he'd done for her.
Minds could come up with the strangest idle thoughts when about to break.
The first thing she saw was the blood. It didn't help her elevated heartbeat.
"A- Aster where-"
Her heart nearly stopped. Aster was right there, looking horrible but still moving, still alive.
Alright, that did it. She scrambled over and latched onto Aster's side like a parasite.
Oh god, Aster didn't want to be seen like this. Especially not by a kid- Any kid, but particularly this one. Sure... Most children aren't vigilantes surrounded by death, but that didn't make it feel any better.
She must've been so worried... Ugh, they all must have been... So much for no attachments.
Aster's eyes roamed over Jade in a guilty daze. Their lack of sheen made them appear almost milky.
Aster managed a smile. It... Probably should be concerning that she was able to do so.
“Thanks... Really, thanks.” It's probably good that you missed most of it.
Aster blinked for a second.
“...Actually, that's... That's good, he's been talking tons about Jason's blood lately... Not sure what that's about, but... Ya know. ...That's not too strange for Rowan, but you lot aren't... Ah, used to that yet... So... ...Probably for the best.”
Aster stared at Jason blankly. It was a pure 50/50 split between deadpan disappointment at him missing the obvious and blood loss.
“He's my best friend, I'm not worried about it. This is among the least concerning stunts he's pulled. I just don't want you getting your measurements taken to see if you'll fit in our fridge.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose.
“The last guy he stuck in there panicked and broke the bloody door off. I had to explain that he wasn't about to be murdered.”
//Warning: This thread will be a rough read. Be prepared. Specific CWs will be noted as they come.\\
A head full of poison. Veins ready to burst, burning from the inside out. Skin begging to be peeled back, if only to reveal whatever was wrong below.
Agony.
Snakes push onwards, consuming themselves out of stress. Rats tangle together in panic, only worsening their states as they twist and writhe for freedom. A trapped fox chews off its own leg to escape, yet bleeds out before it can run.
Aster was reading when it happened, examining another section of the scroll in her “closet lab.” (A secret room behind her closet, Ro has one too, he made them. They're essentially bunkers. His is a laboratory, Aster's is... A mess of artifacts.)
Something just...
₴₦₳₱₱ɆĐ.
Her eyes were blown wide, pupils now pinpricks. She let out a strangled gasp and clutched at the table, nails digging into it until her fingers bled.
Harder. Splinters tore through her fingers but she paid them no mind.
Aster stared up at Tim, with pure spiraling madness in her eyes. It writhed and twisted, coiling round and round until all semblance of rationality was gone.
Tim was leafing quietly through some papers. His mind was more stable now, he'd almost backed out of this decision. He trusted Bruce, and this girl didn't seem the most.... put together. But maybe, just maybe she was right, and she was like him, and she wasn't afraid of him. That's what made him stay.
He blinked at her voice and looked up with questioning eyes.
"Aster?"
The madness was back, he knew that- That utter, desparate, out of touch madness that he hated so much. Maybe he shouldn't have done this at all.
She slammed her fist onto the table. It flickered out of existence and ended up inside of it.
Aster's breathing went ragged, heaving each breath out like it hurt. For a moment, Tim could've sworn he saw a glowing, misty figment of pointed teeth..?
Old reflexes kicked in and he jumped back, heart hammering.
Didn't we teach you anything, you useless arrogant boy?!
He blinked away the memories of raised voices and pounding fists, watching her carefully, noting the split-second... something with all the sharpness of a detective's mind. This was bad.
Madness taking over.
Time to dip or time to stay? He could call for help? They'd come for her, surely. The way they never looked for him.
"Okay."
He kept his eyes on her the whole time he backed toward the door.
"Yes, I thought- I've been helping her, I thought that-"
"Save it Replacement, where is she?"
"Her apartment. There's a bunker in the closet- Jay- WAIT!"
"See ya Timbuktu!"
--------
There was a soft thud of boots landing on a windowsil. The panel slid up with a quiet creek, and Jason stepped inside. Messy, certainly not the home of any sane person. Bad.
He tappped his comm. Time to call in backup.
"J?"
"Ya what, please tell me there's a mission."
"Aster's loosin' it. Tim was helpin' her study the curse, I think she might end up killin' herself-"
"S-shut up. Where're you??"
"Her apartment."
"Three minutes, don' let her die Jay please-"
"Won't. Get here soon."
The line disconnected with a click. He sighed.
It wasn't hard to find the bunker, exactly where Tim said it was. The door scraped open reluctantly.
//TW: Mentions of self harm, depictions of gore. Disturbing imagery.\\
Metallic air danced with dust and despair.
A hurricane of insanity had left the room in shambles. Scratch marks lined the walls, and bits and pieces of them had been savagely ripped off... Papers and maps were haphazardly taped all over and scribbled across in purple pen. The table had been battered and broken, slammed to pieces.
Artifacts laid broken, creating a carpet of ceramic and stone. Words... There was a rollercoaster of words everywhere. Some ancient, some modern.
Even just looking at them, Jason felt a- A PULL towards something more. Something... Something beyond.
Written on the floor, the walls, the bloody CEILING and... Blood.
...There was... Holy shit, there was blood everywhere.
Pools, streaks, handprints... ...Runes?
And there, in the middle of it all, sat Aster Voss.
She was kneeling on the ground, surrounded by shredded paper. Her hair was matted with tangles and crimson, eyes wide and manic, and...
Oh, god.
Her arms.
No longer were the ancient symbols drawn, no... No, they were cut. The wounds were deep, nearly to the bone, and glistening with red. Mutilated flesh tore through, flickering... Flickering in and out of existence. A mist seemed to seep outwards, oozing through the gashes.
Despite it all... Aster tilted her head, neck cracked at an unnatural angle, and stared.
He crouched by her side and quickly scanned the injuries, cursing in a variety of colorful ways internally. He quickly made note of the few sharp things there were nearby and kicked the closest one away.
"Oh jeeeeeez- Lemme see that?"
He reached for the roll of gauze he kept in his belt.
Aster rose to her feet and staggered backward, face feral. Her lips curled back, and the mist...
It rose from her flesh, pouring out of the slashes closest to her face, ripping and tearing along the way. It morphed to form a spirit's fangs, jagged and cruel, encircling her mouth and jaw.
“YOU CAN'T STOP ME, TODD. YOU'LL BE KILLING ME IF YOU DO. I can't I SHAN'T LET YOU DO THAT.”
She heaved, panting as waterfalls of blood and mist poured out of her arms. Aster's breathing was heavy, as if her lungs themselves were on the verge of failure. Her body contorted with each breath, making her look downright animalistic.
Mist, once blue, now blood red pooled around Jason's feet.
Aster stumbled backwards and grasped at her face. It was solid. Noting this, she began tearing at it. Her nails were sharp enough to do real damage, but oh, was she desperate.
“thIS IS WHY. IT'S IT-”
She grabbed at her eye and instantly screamed, still feeling pain from it.
His hand shot out with lightning-quick reflexes to grip her mutilated wrist, almost like a bandage holding the flesh together. He felt his stomach twist. He couldn't make himself look.
Don't look. You'll be okay, I promise, just don't look.
Steady hands.
Your hands hold your life. Blood or sand in your eyes, broken limbs, it doesn't matter - Just hold tight.
"Stop."
He slowly pulled her hand away from her face as best he could.
He forced his hands to stay steady and hold tight. He felt frantic. Utterly unequipped and off-guard frantic, trying to keep her from hurting herself. He was just squeezing more blood out wasn't he...? Oh god was that a bone-
Don't. Look.
Steady. Hands.
He tried to hold on through the blood-slick mess- Alright, touch helped right? It was helping- It had to help, it was the last idea he had here.
He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and prayed she didn't punch his eyeballs out.
"Don' know A. 'm not even sure what you're talkin' about."
He admitted slowly. He sighed and let some of the tension drain out of his shoulders.
And he couldn't put this off any longer.
Silently, he made himself look back at the torn flesh and carefully relaxed his grip on her wrist, raising it just a little to get a better look. He quietly took a roll of gauze from his belt and started to stem the bloodflow.
Hatred wasn't an unfamiliar feeling to a man defined by rage. He felt just a little of it curl in his gut, just a little, revenge for a sister he barely knew but already loved.
"Don't look A."
He whispered.
"I promise you'll be okay. Jus' keep your eyes closed for a second."
He finished wrapping it and carefully reached for her other wrist.
“...He was tracking a, a... Spirit is the best word for it. ...Asked me to travel with him, since live experience would do me good and- And if I came and helped him, he'd help me too... But I was fourteen, inexperienced, and...”
...She trailed off, and let the bite mark do the talking.
The pain was indescribable at first. Paralyzing. Now, though, it was only a reminder. A reminder of how...
“...He just ran. Assumed I was dead, and... Left me there...”
“...There's only one thing I... Ever really wanted,” she breathed out a wry laugh. “And it's not to save myself, because I think... I think somehow I knew that couldn't happen. Trying for the impossible, and... All that...”
Relax yourself... You're too tense.
Right...
Breathe.
Aster straightened, only to slump as she exhaled. She rocked her head back so that it rested against the wall with a solid thunk. Her legs slid down, limply resting on the floor.
She was like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Her eyes were dim, skin pale, clearly unwell from loss of blood.
Those are the thoughts of a desparate person rushing from halfway across the city.
She probably ripped a couple papers under her boots when she ran but frick it, none of them were worth her sister's life. Hah, she really was like Jason didn't she? She'd even done for Aster exactly what he'd done for her.
Minds could come up with the strangest idle thoughts when about to break.
The first thing she saw was the blood. It didn't help her elevated heartbeat.
"A- Aster where-"
Her heart nearly stopped. Aster was right there, looking horrible but still moving, still alive.
Alright, that did it. She scrambled over and latched onto Aster's side like a parasite.
Oh god, Aster didn't want to be seen like this. Especially not by a kid- Any kid, but particularly this one. Sure... Most children aren't vigilantes surrounded by death, but that didn't make it feel any better.
She must've been so worried... Ugh, they all must have been... So much for no attachments.
Aster's eyes roamed over Jade in a guilty daze. Their lack of sheen made them appear almost milky.
Aster managed a smile. It... Probably should be concerning that she was able to do so.
“Thanks... Really, thanks.” It's probably good that you missed most of it.
Aster blinked for a second.
“...Actually, that's... That's good, he's been talking tons about Jason's blood lately... Not sure what that's about, but... Ya know. ...That's not too strange for Rowan, but you lot aren't... Ah, used to that yet... So... ...Probably for the best.”
Aster stared at Jason blankly. It was a pure 50/50 split between deadpan disappointment at him missing the obvious and blood loss.
“He's my best friend, I'm not worried about it. This is among the least concerning stunts he's pulled. I just don't want you getting your measurements taken to see if you'll fit in our fridge.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose.
“The last guy he stuck in there panicked and broke the bloody door off. I had to explain that he wasn't about to be murdered.”
//Warning: This thread will be a rough read. Be prepared. Specific CWs will be noted as they come.\\
A head full of poison. Veins ready to burst, burning from the inside out. Skin begging to be peeled back, if only to reveal whatever was wrong below.
Agony.
Snakes push onwards, consuming themselves out of stress. Rats tangle together in panic, only worsening their states as they twist and writhe for freedom. A trapped fox chews off its own leg to escape, yet bleeds out before it can run.
Aster was reading when it happened, examining another section of the scroll in her “closet lab.” (A secret room behind her closet, Ro has one too, he made them. They're essentially bunkers. His is a laboratory, Aster's is... A mess of artifacts.)
Something just...
₴₦₳₱₱ɆĐ.
Her eyes were blown wide, pupils now pinpricks. She let out a strangled gasp and clutched at the table, nails digging into it until her fingers bled.
Harder. Splinters tore through her fingers but she paid them no mind.
Aster stared up at Tim, with pure spiraling madness in her eyes. It writhed and twisted, coiling round and round until all semblance of rationality was gone.
Tim was leafing quietly through some papers. His mind was more stable now, he'd almost backed out of this decision. He trusted Bruce, and this girl didn't seem the most.... put together. But maybe, just maybe she was right, and she was like him, and she wasn't afraid of him. That's what made him stay.
He blinked at her voice and looked up with questioning eyes.
"Aster?"
The madness was back, he knew that- That utter, desparate, out of touch madness that he hated so much. Maybe he shouldn't have done this at all.
She slammed her fist onto the table. It flickered out of existence and ended up inside of it.
Aster's breathing went ragged, heaving each breath out like it hurt. For a moment, Tim could've sworn he saw a glowing, misty figment of pointed teeth..?
Old reflexes kicked in and he jumped back, heart hammering.
Didn't we teach you anything, you useless arrogant boy?!
He blinked away the memories of raised voices and pounding fists, watching her carefully, noting the split-second... something with all the sharpness of a detective's mind. This was bad.
Madness taking over.
Time to dip or time to stay? He could call for help? They'd come for her, surely. The way they never looked for him.
"Okay."
He kept his eyes on her the whole time he backed toward the door.
"Yes, I thought- I've been helping her, I thought that-"
"Save it Replacement, where is she?"
"Her apartment. There's a bunker in the closet- Jay- WAIT!"
"See ya Timbuktu!"
--------
There was a soft thud of boots landing on a windowsil. The panel slid up with a quiet creek, and Jason stepped inside. Messy, certainly not the home of any sane person. Bad.
He tappped his comm. Time to call in backup.
"J?"
"Ya what, please tell me there's a mission."
"Aster's loosin' it. Tim was helpin' her study the curse, I think she might end up killin' herself-"
"S-shut up. Where're you??"
"Her apartment."
"Three minutes, don' let her die Jay please-"
"Won't. Get here soon."
The line disconnected with a click. He sighed.
It wasn't hard to find the bunker, exactly where Tim said it was. The door scraped open reluctantly.
//TW: Mentions of self harm, depictions of gore. Disturbing imagery.\\
Metallic air danced with dust and despair.
A hurricane of insanity had left the room in shambles. Scratch marks lined the walls, and bits and pieces of them had been savagely ripped off... Papers and maps were haphazardly taped all over and scribbled across in purple pen. The table had been battered and broken, slammed to pieces.
Artifacts laid broken, creating a carpet of ceramic and stone. Words... There was a rollercoaster of words everywhere. Some ancient, some modern.
Even just looking at them, Jason felt a- A PULL towards something more. Something... Something beyond.
Written on the floor, the walls, the bloody CEILING and... Blood.
...There was... Holy shit, there was blood everywhere.
Pools, streaks, handprints... ...Runes?
And there, in the middle of it all, sat Aster Voss.
She was kneeling on the ground, surrounded by shredded paper. Her hair was matted with tangles and crimson, eyes wide and manic, and...
Oh, god.
Her arms.
No longer were the ancient symbols drawn, no... No, they were cut. The wounds were deep, nearly to the bone, and glistening with red. Mutilated flesh tore through, flickering... Flickering in and out of existence. A mist seemed to seep outwards, oozing through the gashes.
Despite it all... Aster tilted her head, neck cracked at an unnatural angle, and stared.
He crouched by her side and quickly scanned the injuries, cursing in a variety of colorful ways internally. He quickly made note of the few sharp things there were nearby and kicked the closest one away.
"Oh jeeeeeez- Lemme see that?"
He reached for the roll of gauze he kept in his belt.
Aster rose to her feet and staggered backward, face feral. Her lips curled back, and the mist...
It rose from her flesh, pouring out of the slashes closest to her face, ripping and tearing along the way. It morphed to form a spirit's fangs, jagged and cruel, encircling her mouth and jaw.
“YOU CAN'T STOP ME, TODD. YOU'LL BE KILLING ME IF YOU DO. I can't I SHAN'T LET YOU DO THAT.”
She heaved, panting as waterfalls of blood and mist poured out of her arms. Aster's breathing was heavy, as if her lungs themselves were on the verge of failure. Her body contorted with each breath, making her look downright animalistic.
Mist, once blue, now blood red pooled around Jason's feet.
Aster stumbled backwards and grasped at her face. It was solid. Noting this, she began tearing at it. Her nails were sharp enough to do real damage, but oh, was she desperate.
“thIS IS WHY. IT'S IT-”
She grabbed at her eye and instantly screamed, still feeling pain from it.
His hand shot out with lightning-quick reflexes to grip her mutilated wrist, almost like a bandage holding the flesh together. He felt his stomach twist. He couldn't make himself look.
Don't look. You'll be okay, I promise, just don't look.
Steady hands.
Your hands hold your life. Blood or sand in your eyes, broken limbs, it doesn't matter - Just hold tight.
"Stop."
He slowly pulled her hand away from her face as best he could.
He forced his hands to stay steady and hold tight. He felt frantic. Utterly unequipped and off-guard frantic, trying to keep her from hurting herself. He was just squeezing more blood out wasn't he...? Oh god was that a bone-
Don't. Look.
Steady. Hands.
He tried to hold on through the blood-slick mess- Alright, touch helped right? It was helping- It had to help, it was the last idea he had here.
He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and prayed she didn't punch his eyeballs out.
"Don' know A. 'm not even sure what you're talkin' about."
He admitted slowly. He sighed and let some of the tension drain out of his shoulders.
And he couldn't put this off any longer.
Silently, he made himself look back at the torn flesh and carefully relaxed his grip on her wrist, raising it just a little to get a better look. He quietly took a roll of gauze from his belt and started to stem the bloodflow.
Hatred wasn't an unfamiliar feeling to a man defined by rage. He felt just a little of it curl in his gut, just a little, revenge for a sister he barely knew but already loved.
"Don't look A."
He whispered.
"I promise you'll be okay. Jus' keep your eyes closed for a second."
He finished wrapping it and carefully reached for her other wrist.
“...He was tracking a, a... Spirit is the best word for it. ...Asked me to travel with him, since live experience would do me good and- And if I came and helped him, he'd help me too... But I was fourteen, inexperienced, and...”
...She trailed off, and let the bite mark do the talking.
The pain was indescribable at first. Paralyzing. Now, though, it was only a reminder. A reminder of how...
“...He just ran. Assumed I was dead, and... Left me there...”
“...There's only one thing I... Ever really wanted,” she breathed out a wry laugh. “And it's not to save myself, because I think... I think somehow I knew that couldn't happen. Trying for the impossible, and... All that...”
Relax yourself... You're too tense.
Right...
Breathe.
Aster straightened, only to slump as she exhaled. She rocked her head back so that it rested against the wall with a solid thunk. Her legs slid down, limply resting on the floor.
She was like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Her eyes were dim, skin pale, clearly unwell from loss of blood.
Those are the thoughts of a desparate person rushing from halfway across the city.
She probably ripped a couple papers under her boots when she ran but frick it, none of them were worth her sister's life. Hah, she really was like Jason didn't she? She'd even done for Aster exactly what he'd done for her.
Minds could come up with the strangest idle thoughts when about to break.
The first thing she saw was the blood. It didn't help her elevated heartbeat.
"A- Aster where-"
Her heart nearly stopped. Aster was right there, looking horrible but still moving, still alive.
Alright, that did it. She scrambled over and latched onto Aster's side like a parasite.
Oh god, Aster didn't want to be seen like this. Especially not by a kid- Any kid, but particularly this one. Sure... Most children aren't vigilantes surrounded by death, but that didn't make it feel any better.
She must've been so worried... Ugh, they all must have been... So much for no attachments.
Aster's eyes roamed over Jade in a guilty daze. Their lack of sheen made them appear almost milky.
Aster managed a smile. It... Probably should be concerning that she was able to do so.
“Thanks... Really, thanks.” It's probably good that you missed most of it.
Aster blinked for a second.
“...Actually, that's... That's good, he's been talking tons about Jason's blood lately... Not sure what that's about, but... Ya know. ...That's not too strange for Rowan, but you lot aren't... Ah, used to that yet... So... ...Probably for the best.”
//Warning: This thread will be a rough read. Be prepared. Specific CWs will be noted as they come.\\
A head full of poison. Veins ready to burst, burning from the inside out. Skin begging to be peeled back, if only to reveal whatever was wrong below.
Agony.
Snakes push onwards, consuming themselves out of stress. Rats tangle together in panic, only worsening their states as they twist and writhe for freedom. A trapped fox chews off its own leg to escape, yet bleeds out before it can run.
Aster was reading when it happened, examining another section of the scroll in her “closet lab.” (A secret room behind her closet, Ro has one too, he made them. They're essentially bunkers. His is a laboratory, Aster's is... A mess of artifacts.)
Something just...
₴₦₳₱₱ɆĐ.
Her eyes were blown wide, pupils now pinpricks. She let out a strangled gasp and clutched at the table, nails digging into it until her fingers bled.
Harder. Splinters tore through her fingers but she paid them no mind.
Aster stared up at Tim, with pure spiraling madness in her eyes. It writhed and twisted, coiling round and round until all semblance of rationality was gone.
Tim was leafing quietly through some papers. His mind was more stable now, he'd almost backed out of this decision. He trusted Bruce, and this girl didn't seem the most.... put together. But maybe, just maybe she was right, and she was like him, and she wasn't afraid of him. That's what made him stay.
He blinked at her voice and looked up with questioning eyes.
"Aster?"
The madness was back, he knew that- That utter, desparate, out of touch madness that he hated so much. Maybe he shouldn't have done this at all.
She slammed her fist onto the table. It flickered out of existence and ended up inside of it.
Aster's breathing went ragged, heaving each breath out like it hurt. For a moment, Tim could've sworn he saw a glowing, misty figment of pointed teeth..?
Old reflexes kicked in and he jumped back, heart hammering.
Didn't we teach you anything, you useless arrogant boy?!
He blinked away the memories of raised voices and pounding fists, watching her carefully, noting the split-second... something with all the sharpness of a detective's mind. This was bad.
Madness taking over.
Time to dip or time to stay? He could call for help? They'd come for her, surely. The way they never looked for him.
"Okay."
He kept his eyes on her the whole time he backed toward the door.
"Yes, I thought- I've been helping her, I thought that-"
"Save it Replacement, where is she?"
"Her apartment. There's a bunker in the closet- Jay- WAIT!"
"See ya Timbuktu!"
--------
There was a soft thud of boots landing on a windowsil. The panel slid up with a quiet creek, and Jason stepped inside. Messy, certainly not the home of any sane person. Bad.
He tappped his comm. Time to call in backup.
"J?"
"Ya what, please tell me there's a mission."
"Aster's loosin' it. Tim was helpin' her study the curse, I think she might end up killin' herself-"
"S-shut up. Where're you??"
"Her apartment."
"Three minutes, don' let her die Jay please-"
"Won't. Get here soon."
The line disconnected with a click. He sighed.
It wasn't hard to find the bunker, exactly where Tim said it was. The door scraped open reluctantly.
//TW: Mentions of self harm, depictions of gore. Disturbing imagery.\\
Metallic air danced with dust and despair.
A hurricane of insanity had left the room in shambles. Scratch marks lined the walls, and bits and pieces of them had been savagely ripped off... Papers and maps were haphazardly taped all over and scribbled across in purple pen. The table had been battered and broken, slammed to pieces.
Artifacts laid broken, creating a carpet of ceramic and stone. Words... There was a rollercoaster of words everywhere. Some ancient, some modern.
Even just looking at them, Jason felt a- A PULL towards something more. Something... Something beyond.
Written on the floor, the walls, the bloody CEILING and... Blood.
...There was... Holy shit, there was blood everywhere.
Pools, streaks, handprints... ...Runes?
And there, in the middle of it all, sat Aster Voss.
She was kneeling on the ground, surrounded by shredded paper. Her hair was matted with tangles and crimson, eyes wide and manic, and...
Oh, god.
Her arms.
No longer were the ancient symbols drawn, no... No, they were cut. The wounds were deep, nearly to the bone, and glistening with red. Mutilated flesh tore through, flickering... Flickering in and out of existence. A mist seemed to seep outwards, oozing through the gashes.
Despite it all... Aster tilted her head, neck cracked at an unnatural angle, and stared.
He crouched by her side and quickly scanned the injuries, cursing in a variety of colorful ways internally. He quickly made note of the few sharp things there were nearby and kicked the closest one away.
"Oh jeeeeeez- Lemme see that?"
He reached for the roll of gauze he kept in his belt.
Aster rose to her feet and staggered backward, face feral. Her lips curled back, and the mist...
It rose from her flesh, pouring out of the slashes closest to her face, ripping and tearing along the way. It morphed to form a spirit's fangs, jagged and cruel, encircling her mouth and jaw.
“YOU CAN'T STOP ME, TODD. YOU'LL BE KILLING ME IF YOU DO. I can't I SHAN'T LET YOU DO THAT.”
She heaved, panting as waterfalls of blood and mist poured out of her arms. Aster's breathing was heavy, as if her lungs themselves were on the verge of failure. Her body contorted with each breath, making her look downright animalistic.
Mist, once blue, now blood red pooled around Jason's feet.
Aster stumbled backwards and grasped at her face. It was solid. Noting this, she began tearing at it. Her nails were sharp enough to do real damage, but oh, was she desperate.
“thIS IS WHY. IT'S IT-”
She grabbed at her eye and instantly screamed, still feeling pain from it.
His hand shot out with lightning-quick reflexes to grip her mutilated wrist, almost like a bandage holding the flesh together. He felt his stomach twist. He couldn't make himself look.
Don't look. You'll be okay, I promise, just don't look.
Steady hands.
Your hands hold your life. Blood or sand in your eyes, broken limbs, it doesn't matter - Just hold tight.
"Stop."
He slowly pulled her hand away from her face as best he could.
He forced his hands to stay steady and hold tight. He felt frantic. Utterly unequipped and off-guard frantic, trying to keep her from hurting herself. He was just squeezing more blood out wasn't he...? Oh god was that a bone-
Don't. Look.
Steady. Hands.
He tried to hold on through the blood-slick mess- Alright, touch helped right? It was helping- It had to help, it was the last idea he had here.
He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and prayed she didn't punch his eyeballs out.
"Don' know A. 'm not even sure what you're talkin' about."
He admitted slowly. He sighed and let some of the tension drain out of his shoulders.
And he couldn't put this off any longer.
Silently, he made himself look back at the torn flesh and carefully relaxed his grip on her wrist, raising it just a little to get a better look. He quietly took a roll of gauze from his belt and started to stem the bloodflow.
Hatred wasn't an unfamiliar feeling to a man defined by rage. He felt just a little of it curl in his gut, just a little, revenge for a sister he barely knew but already loved.
"Don't look A."
He whispered.
"I promise you'll be okay. Jus' keep your eyes closed for a second."
He finished wrapping it and carefully reached for her other wrist.
“...He was tracking a, a... Spirit is the best word for it. ...Asked me to travel with him, since live experience would do me good and- And if I came and helped him, he'd help me too... But I was fourteen, inexperienced, and...”
...She trailed off, and let the bite mark do the talking.
The pain was indescribable at first. Paralyzing. Now, though, it was only a reminder. A reminder of how...
“...He just ran. Assumed I was dead, and... Left me there...”
“...There's only one thing I... Ever really wanted,” she breathed out a wry laugh. “And it's not to save myself, because I think... I think somehow I knew that couldn't happen. Trying for the impossible, and... All that...”
Relax yourself... You're too tense.
Right...
Breathe.
Aster straightened, only to slump as she exhaled. She rocked her head back so that it rested against the wall with a solid thunk. Her legs slid down, limply resting on the floor.
She was like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Her eyes were dim, skin pale, clearly unwell from loss of blood.
Those are the thoughts of a desparate person rushing from halfway across the city.
She probably ripped a couple papers under her boots when she ran but frick it, none of them were worth her sister's life. Hah, she really was like Jason didn't she? She'd even done for Aster exactly what he'd done for her.
Minds could come up with the strangest idle thoughts when about to break.
The first thing she saw was the blood. It didn't help her elevated heartbeat.
"A- Aster where-"
Her heart nearly stopped. Aster was right there, looking horrible but still moving, still alive.
Alright, that did it. She scrambled over and latched onto Aster's side like a parasite.
Oh god, Aster didn't want to be seen like this. Especially not by a kid- Any kid, but particularly this one. Sure... Most children aren't vigilantes surrounded by death, but that didn't make it feel any better.
She must've been so worried... Ugh, they all must have been... So much for no attachments.
Aster's eyes roamed over Jade in a guilty daze. Their lack of sheen made them appear almost milky.
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//Warning: This thread will be a rough read. Be prepared. Specific CWs will be noted as they come.\\
A head full of poison. Veins ready to burst, burning from the inside out. Skin begging to be peeled back, if only to reveal whatever was wrong below.
Agony.
Snakes push onwards, consuming themselves out of stress. Rats tangle together in panic, only worsening their states as they twist and writhe for freedom. A trapped fox chews off its own leg to escape, yet bleeds out before it can run.
Aster was reading when it happened, examining another section of the scroll in her “closet lab.” (A secret room behind her closet, Ro has one too, he made them. They're essentially bunkers. His is a laboratory, Aster's is... A mess of artifacts.)
Something just...
₴₦₳₱₱ɆĐ.
Her eyes were blown wide, pupils now pinpricks. She let out a strangled gasp and clutched at the table, nails digging into it until her fingers bled.
Harder. Splinters tore through her fingers but she paid them no mind.
Aster stared up at Tim, with pure spiraling madness in her eyes. It writhed and twisted, coiling round and round until all semblance of rationality was gone.
Tim was leafing quietly through some papers. His mind was more stable now, he'd almost backed out of this decision. He trusted Bruce, and this girl didn't seem the most.... put together. But maybe, just maybe she was right, and she was like him, and she wasn't afraid of him. That's what made him stay.
He blinked at her voice and looked up with questioning eyes.
"Aster?"
The madness was back, he knew that- That utter, desparate, out of touch madness that he hated so much. Maybe he shouldn't have done this at all.
She slammed her fist onto the table. It flickered out of existence and ended up inside of it.
Aster's breathing went ragged, heaving each breath out like it hurt. For a moment, Tim could've sworn he saw a glowing, misty figment of pointed teeth..?
Old reflexes kicked in and he jumped back, heart hammering.
Didn't we teach you anything, you useless arrogant boy?!
He blinked away the memories of raised voices and pounding fists, watching her carefully, noting the split-second... something with all the sharpness of a detective's mind. This was bad.
Madness taking over.
Time to dip or time to stay? He could call for help? They'd come for her, surely. The way they never looked for him.
"Okay."
He kept his eyes on her the whole time he backed toward the door.
"Yes, I thought- I've been helping her, I thought that-"
"Save it Replacement, where is she?"
"Her apartment. There's a bunker in the closet- Jay- WAIT!"
"See ya Timbuktu!"
--------
There was a soft thud of boots landing on a windowsil. The panel slid up with a quiet creek, and Jason stepped inside. Messy, certainly not the home of any sane person. Bad.
He tappped his comm. Time to call in backup.
"J?"
"Ya what, please tell me there's a mission."
"Aster's loosin' it. Tim was helpin' her study the curse, I think she might end up killin' herself-"
"S-shut up. Where're you??"
"Her apartment."
"Three minutes, don' let her die Jay please-"
"Won't. Get here soon."
The line disconnected with a click. He sighed.
It wasn't hard to find the bunker, exactly where Tim said it was. The door scraped open reluctantly.
//TW: Mentions of self harm, depictions of gore. Disturbing imagery.\\
Metallic air danced with dust and despair.
A hurricane of insanity had left the room in shambles. Scratch marks lined the walls, and bits and pieces of them had been savagely ripped off... Papers and maps were haphazardly taped all over and scribbled across in purple pen. The table had been battered and broken, slammed to pieces.
Artifacts laid broken, creating a carpet of ceramic and stone. Words... There was a rollercoaster of words everywhere. Some ancient, some modern.
Even just looking at them, Jason felt a- A PULL towards something more. Something... Something beyond.
Written on the floor, the walls, the bloody CEILING and... Blood.
...There was... Holy shit, there was blood everywhere.
Pools, streaks, handprints... ...Runes?
And there, in the middle of it all, sat Aster Voss.
She was kneeling on the ground, surrounded by shredded paper. Her hair was matted with tangles and crimson, eyes wide and manic, and...
Oh, god.
Her arms.
No longer were the ancient symbols drawn, no... No, they were cut. The wounds were deep, nearly to the bone, and glistening with red. Mutilated flesh tore through, flickering... Flickering in and out of existence. A mist seemed to seep outwards, oozing through the gashes.
Despite it all... Aster tilted her head, neck cracked at an unnatural angle, and stared.
He crouched by her side and quickly scanned the injuries, cursing in a variety of colorful ways internally. He quickly made note of the few sharp things there were nearby and kicked the closest one away.
"Oh jeeeeeez- Lemme see that?"
He reached for the roll of gauze he kept in his belt.
Aster rose to her feet and staggered backward, face feral. Her lips curled back, and the mist...
It rose from her flesh, pouring out of the slashes closest to her face, ripping and tearing along the way. It morphed to form a spirit's fangs, jagged and cruel, encircling her mouth and jaw.
“YOU CAN'T STOP ME, TODD. YOU'LL BE KILLING ME IF YOU DO. I can't I SHAN'T LET YOU DO THAT.”
She heaved, panting as waterfalls of blood and mist poured out of her arms. Aster's breathing was heavy, as if her lungs themselves were on the verge of failure. Her body contorted with each breath, making her look downright animalistic.
Mist, once blue, now blood red pooled around Jason's feet.
Aster stumbled backwards and grasped at her face. It was solid. Noting this, she began tearing at it. Her nails were sharp enough to do real damage, but oh, was she desperate.
“thIS IS WHY. IT'S IT-”
She grabbed at her eye and instantly screamed, still feeling pain from it.
His hand shot out with lightning-quick reflexes to grip her mutilated wrist, almost like a bandage holding the flesh together. He felt his stomach twist. He couldn't make himself look.
Don't look. You'll be okay, I promise, just don't look.
Steady hands.
Your hands hold your life. Blood or sand in your eyes, broken limbs, it doesn't matter - Just hold tight.
"Stop."
He slowly pulled her hand away from her face as best he could.
He forced his hands to stay steady and hold tight. He felt frantic. Utterly unequipped and off-guard frantic, trying to keep her from hurting herself. He was just squeezing more blood out wasn't he...? Oh god was that a bone-
Don't. Look.
Steady. Hands.
He tried to hold on through the blood-slick mess- Alright, touch helped right? It was helping- It had to help, it was the last idea he had here.
He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and prayed she didn't punch his eyeballs out.
"Don' know A. 'm not even sure what you're talkin' about."
He admitted slowly. He sighed and let some of the tension drain out of his shoulders.
And he couldn't put this off any longer.
Silently, he made himself look back at the torn flesh and carefully relaxed his grip on her wrist, raising it just a little to get a better look. He quietly took a roll of gauze from his belt and started to stem the bloodflow.
Hatred wasn't an unfamiliar feeling to a man defined by rage. He felt just a little of it curl in his gut, just a little, revenge for a sister he barely knew but already loved.
"Don't look A."
He whispered.
"I promise you'll be okay. Jus' keep your eyes closed for a second."
He finished wrapping it and carefully reached for her other wrist.
“...He was tracking a, a... Spirit is the best word for it. ...Asked me to travel with him, since live experience would do me good and- And if I came and helped him, he'd help me too... But I was fourteen, inexperienced, and...”
...She trailed off, and let the bite mark do the talking.
The pain was indescribable at first. Paralyzing. Now, though, it was only a reminder. A reminder of how...
“...He just ran. Assumed I was dead, and... Left me there...”
“...There's only one thing I... Ever really wanted,” she breathed out a wry laugh. “And it's not to save myself, because I think... I think somehow I knew that couldn't happen. Trying for the impossible, and... All that...”
Relax yourself... You're too tense.
Right...
Breathe.
Aster straightened, only to slump as she exhaled. She rocked her head back so that it rested against the wall with a solid thunk. Her legs slid down, limply resting on the floor.
She was like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Her eyes were dim, skin pale, clearly unwell from loss of blood.
//Warning: This thread will be a rough read. Be prepared. Specific CWs will be noted as they come.\\
A head full of poison. Veins ready to burst, burning from the inside out. Skin begging to be peeled back, if only to reveal whatever was wrong below.
Agony.
Snakes push onwards, consuming themselves out of stress. Rats tangle together in panic, only worsening their states as they twist and writhe for freedom. A trapped fox chews off its own leg to escape, yet bleeds out before it can run.
Aster was reading when it happened, examining another section of the scroll in her “closet lab.” (A secret room behind her closet, Ro has one too, he made them. They're essentially bunkers. His is a laboratory, Aster's is... A mess of artifacts.)
Something just...
₴₦₳₱₱ɆĐ.
Her eyes were blown wide, pupils now pinpricks. She let out a strangled gasp and clutched at the table, nails digging into it until her fingers bled.
Harder. Splinters tore through her fingers but she paid them no mind.
Aster stared up at Tim, with pure spiraling madness in her eyes. It writhed and twisted, coiling round and round until all semblance of rationality was gone.
Tim was leafing quietly through some papers. His mind was more stable now, he'd almost backed out of this decision. He trusted Bruce, and this girl didn't seem the most.... put together. But maybe, just maybe she was right, and she was like him, and she wasn't afraid of him. That's what made him stay.
He blinked at her voice and looked up with questioning eyes.
"Aster?"
The madness was back, he knew that- That utter, desparate, out of touch madness that he hated so much. Maybe he shouldn't have done this at all.
She slammed her fist onto the table. It flickered out of existence and ended up inside of it.
Aster's breathing went ragged, heaving each breath out like it hurt. For a moment, Tim could've sworn he saw a glowing, misty figment of pointed teeth..?
Old reflexes kicked in and he jumped back, heart hammering.
Didn't we teach you anything, you useless arrogant boy?!
He blinked away the memories of raised voices and pounding fists, watching her carefully, noting the split-second... something with all the sharpness of a detective's mind. This was bad.
Madness taking over.
Time to dip or time to stay? He could call for help? They'd come for her, surely. The way they never looked for him.
"Okay."
He kept his eyes on her the whole time he backed toward the door.
"Yes, I thought- I've been helping her, I thought that-"
"Save it Replacement, where is she?"
"Her apartment. There's a bunker in the closet- Jay- WAIT!"
"See ya Timbuktu!"
--------
There was a soft thud of boots landing on a windowsil. The panel slid up with a quiet creek, and Jason stepped inside. Messy, certainly not the home of any sane person. Bad.
He tappped his comm. Time to call in backup.
"J?"
"Ya what, please tell me there's a mission."
"Aster's loosin' it. Tim was helpin' her study the curse, I think she might end up killin' herself-"
"S-shut up. Where're you??"
"Her apartment."
"Three minutes, don' let her die Jay please-"
"Won't. Get here soon."
The line disconnected with a click. He sighed.
It wasn't hard to find the bunker, exactly where Tim said it was. The door scraped open reluctantly.
//TW: Mentions of self harm, depictions of gore. Disturbing imagery.\\
Metallic air danced with dust and despair.
A hurricane of insanity had left the room in shambles. Scratch marks lined the walls, and bits and pieces of them had been savagely ripped off... Papers and maps were haphazardly taped all over and scribbled across in purple pen. The table had been battered and broken, slammed to pieces.
Artifacts laid broken, creating a carpet of ceramic and stone. Words... There was a rollercoaster of words everywhere. Some ancient, some modern.
Even just looking at them, Jason felt a- A PULL towards something more. Something... Something beyond.
Written on the floor, the walls, the bloody CEILING and... Blood.
...There was... Holy shit, there was blood everywhere.
Pools, streaks, handprints... ...Runes?
And there, in the middle of it all, sat Aster Voss.
She was kneeling on the ground, surrounded by shredded paper. Her hair was matted with tangles and crimson, eyes wide and manic, and...
Oh, god.
Her arms.
No longer were the ancient symbols drawn, no... No, they were cut. The wounds were deep, nearly to the bone, and glistening with red. Mutilated flesh tore through, flickering... Flickering in and out of existence. A mist seemed to seep outwards, oozing through the gashes.
Despite it all... Aster tilted her head, neck cracked at an unnatural angle, and stared.
He crouched by her side and quickly scanned the injuries, cursing in a variety of colorful ways internally. He quickly made note of the few sharp things there were nearby and kicked the closest one away.
"Oh jeeeeeez- Lemme see that?"
He reached for the roll of gauze he kept in his belt.
Aster rose to her feet and staggered backward, face feral. Her lips curled back, and the mist...
It rose from her flesh, pouring out of the slashes closest to her face, ripping and tearing along the way. It morphed to form a spirit's fangs, jagged and cruel, encircling her mouth and jaw.
“YOU CAN'T STOP ME, TODD. YOU'LL BE KILLING ME IF YOU DO. I can't I SHAN'T LET YOU DO THAT.”
She heaved, panting as waterfalls of blood and mist poured out of her arms. Aster's breathing was heavy, as if her lungs themselves were on the verge of failure. Her body contorted with each breath, making her look downright animalistic.
Mist, once blue, now blood red pooled around Jason's feet.
Aster stumbled backwards and grasped at her face. It was solid. Noting this, she began tearing at it. Her nails were sharp enough to do real damage, but oh, was she desperate.
“thIS IS WHY. IT'S IT-”
She grabbed at her eye and instantly screamed, still feeling pain from it.
His hand shot out with lightning-quick reflexes to grip her mutilated wrist, almost like a bandage holding the flesh together. He felt his stomach twist. He couldn't make himself look.
Don't look. You'll be okay, I promise, just don't look.
Steady hands.
Your hands hold your life. Blood or sand in your eyes, broken limbs, it doesn't matter - Just hold tight.
"Stop."
He slowly pulled her hand away from her face as best he could.
He forced his hands to stay steady and hold tight. He felt frantic. Utterly unequipped and off-guard frantic, trying to keep her from hurting herself. He was just squeezing more blood out wasn't he...? Oh god was that a bone-
Don't. Look.
Steady. Hands.
He tried to hold on through the blood-slick mess- Alright, touch helped right? It was helping- It had to help, it was the last idea he had here.
He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and prayed she didn't punch his eyeballs out.
"Don' know A. 'm not even sure what you're talkin' about."
He admitted slowly. He sighed and let some of the tension drain out of his shoulders.
And he couldn't put this off any longer.
Silently, he made himself look back at the torn flesh and carefully relaxed his grip on her wrist, raising it just a little to get a better look. He quietly took a roll of gauze from his belt and started to stem the bloodflow.
Hatred wasn't an unfamiliar feeling to a man defined by rage. He felt just a little of it curl in his gut, just a little, revenge for a sister he barely knew but already loved.
"Don't look A."
He whispered.
"I promise you'll be okay. Jus' keep your eyes closed for a second."
He finished wrapping it and carefully reached for her other wrist.
“...He was tracking a, a... Spirit is the best word for it. ...Asked me to travel with him, since live experience would do me good and- And if I came and helped him, he'd help me too... But I was fourteen, inexperienced, and...”
...She trailed off, and let the bite mark do the talking.
The pain was indescribable at first. Paralyzing. Now, though, it was only a reminder. A reminder of how...
“...He just ran. Assumed I was dead, and... Left me there...”
“...There's only one thing I... Ever really wanted,” she breathed out a wry laugh. “And it's not to save myself, because I think... I think somehow I knew that couldn't happen. Trying for the impossible, and... All that...”
Relax yourself... You're too tense.
Right...
Breathe.
Aster straightened, only to slump as she exhaled. She rocked her head back so that it rested against the wall with a solid thunk. Her legs slid down, limply resting on the floor.
She was like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Her eyes were dim, skin pale, clearly unwell from loss of blood.
//Warning: This thread will be a rough read. Be prepared. Specific CWs will be noted as they come.\\
A head full of poison. Veins ready to burst, burning from the inside out. Skin begging to be peeled back, if only to reveal whatever was wrong below.
Agony.
Snakes push onwards, consuming themselves out of stress. Rats tangle together in panic, only worsening their states as they twist and writhe for freedom. A trapped fox chews off its own leg to escape, yet bleeds out before it can run.
Aster was reading when it happened, examining another section of the scroll in her “closet lab.” (A secret room behind her closet, Ro has one too, he made them. They're essentially bunkers. His is a laboratory, Aster's is... A mess of artifacts.)
Something just...
₴₦₳₱₱ɆĐ.
Her eyes were blown wide, pupils now pinpricks. She let out a strangled gasp and clutched at the table, nails digging into it until her fingers bled.
Harder. Splinters tore through her fingers but she paid them no mind.
Aster stared up at Tim, with pure spiraling madness in her eyes. It writhed and twisted, coiling round and round until all semblance of rationality was gone.
Tim was leafing quietly through some papers. His mind was more stable now, he'd almost backed out of this decision. He trusted Bruce, and this girl didn't seem the most.... put together. But maybe, just maybe she was right, and she was like him, and she wasn't afraid of him. That's what made him stay.
He blinked at her voice and looked up with questioning eyes.
"Aster?"
The madness was back, he knew that- That utter, desparate, out of touch madness that he hated so much. Maybe he shouldn't have done this at all.
She slammed her fist onto the table. It flickered out of existence and ended up inside of it.
Aster's breathing went ragged, heaving each breath out like it hurt. For a moment, Tim could've sworn he saw a glowing, misty figment of pointed teeth..?
Old reflexes kicked in and he jumped back, heart hammering.
Didn't we teach you anything, you useless arrogant boy?!
He blinked away the memories of raised voices and pounding fists, watching her carefully, noting the split-second... something with all the sharpness of a detective's mind. This was bad.
Madness taking over.
Time to dip or time to stay? He could call for help? They'd come for her, surely. The way they never looked for him.
"Okay."
He kept his eyes on her the whole time he backed toward the door.
"Yes, I thought- I've been helping her, I thought that-"
"Save it Replacement, where is she?"
"Her apartment. There's a bunker in the closet- Jay- WAIT!"
"See ya Timbuktu!"
--------
There was a soft thud of boots landing on a windowsil. The panel slid up with a quiet creek, and Jason stepped inside. Messy, certainly not the home of any sane person. Bad.
He tappped his comm. Time to call in backup.
"J?"
"Ya what, please tell me there's a mission."
"Aster's loosin' it. Tim was helpin' her study the curse, I think she might end up killin' herself-"
"S-shut up. Where're you??"
"Her apartment."
"Three minutes, don' let her die Jay please-"
"Won't. Get here soon."
The line disconnected with a click. He sighed.
It wasn't hard to find the bunker, exactly where Tim said it was. The door scraped open reluctantly.
//TW: Mentions of self harm, depictions of gore. Disturbing imagery.\\
Metallic air danced with dust and despair.
A hurricane of insanity had left the room in shambles. Scratch marks lined the walls, and bits and pieces of them had been savagely ripped off... Papers and maps were haphazardly taped all over and scribbled across in purple pen. The table had been battered and broken, slammed to pieces.
Artifacts laid broken, creating a carpet of ceramic and stone. Words... There was a rollercoaster of words everywhere. Some ancient, some modern.
Even just looking at them, Jason felt a- A PULL towards something more. Something... Something beyond.
Written on the floor, the walls, the bloody CEILING and... Blood.
...There was... Holy shit, there was blood everywhere.
Pools, streaks, handprints... ...Runes?
And there, in the middle of it all, sat Aster Voss.
She was kneeling on the ground, surrounded by shredded paper. Her hair was matted with tangles and crimson, eyes wide and manic, and...
Oh, god.
Her arms.
No longer were the ancient symbols drawn, no... No, they were cut. The wounds were deep, nearly to the bone, and glistening with red. Mutilated flesh tore through, flickering... Flickering in and out of existence. A mist seemed to seep outwards, oozing through the gashes.
Despite it all... Aster tilted her head, neck cracked at an unnatural angle, and stared.
He crouched by her side and quickly scanned the injuries, cursing in a variety of colorful ways internally. He quickly made note of the few sharp things there were nearby and kicked the closest one away.
"Oh jeeeeeez- Lemme see that?"
He reached for the roll of gauze he kept in his belt.
Aster rose to her feet and staggered backward, face feral. Her lips curled back, and the mist...
It rose from her flesh, pouring out of the slashes closest to her face, ripping and tearing along the way. It morphed to form a spirit's fangs, jagged and cruel, encircling her mouth and jaw.
“YOU CAN'T STOP ME, TODD. YOU'LL BE KILLING ME IF YOU DO. I can't I SHAN'T LET YOU DO THAT.”
She heaved, panting as waterfalls of blood and mist poured out of her arms. Aster's breathing was heavy, as if her lungs themselves were on the verge of failure. Her body contorted with each breath, making her look downright animalistic.
Mist, once blue, now blood red pooled around Jason's feet.
Aster stumbled backwards and grasped at her face. It was solid. Noting this, she began tearing at it. Her nails were sharp enough to do real damage, but oh, was she desperate.
“thIS IS WHY. IT'S IT-”
She grabbed at her eye and instantly screamed, still feeling pain from it.
His hand shot out with lightning-quick reflexes to grip her mutilated wrist, almost like a bandage holding the flesh together. He felt his stomach twist. He couldn't make himself look.
Don't look. You'll be okay, I promise, just don't look.
Steady hands.
Your hands hold your life. Blood or sand in your eyes, broken limbs, it doesn't matter - Just hold tight.
"Stop."
He slowly pulled her hand away from her face as best he could.
He forced his hands to stay steady and hold tight. He felt frantic. Utterly unequipped and off-guard frantic, trying to keep her from hurting herself. He was just squeezing more blood out wasn't he...? Oh god was that a bone-
Don't. Look.
Steady. Hands.
He tried to hold on through the blood-slick mess- Alright, touch helped right? It was helping- It had to help, it was the last idea he had here.
He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and prayed she didn't punch his eyeballs out.
"Don' know A. 'm not even sure what you're talkin' about."
He admitted slowly. He sighed and let some of the tension drain out of his shoulders.
And he couldn't put this off any longer.
Silently, he made himself look back at the torn flesh and carefully relaxed his grip on her wrist, raising it just a little to get a better look. He quietly took a roll of gauze from his belt and started to stem the bloodflow.
Hatred wasn't an unfamiliar feeling to a man defined by rage. He felt just a little of it curl in his gut, just a little, revenge for a sister he barely knew but already loved.
"Don't look A."
He whispered.
"I promise you'll be okay. Jus' keep your eyes closed for a second."
He finished wrapping it and carefully reached for her other wrist.
“...He was tracking a, a... Spirit is the best word for it. ...Asked me to travel with him, since live experience would do me good and- And if I came and helped him, he'd help me too... But I was fourteen, inexperienced, and...”
...She trailed off, and let the bite mark do the talking.
The pain was indescribable at first. Paralyzing. Now, though, it was only a reminder. A reminder of how...
“...He just ran. Assumed I was dead, and... Left me there...”
“...There's only one thing I... Ever really wanted,” she breathed out a wry laugh. “And it's not to save myself, because I think... I think somehow I knew that couldn't happen. Trying for the impossible, and... All that...”
Relax yourself... You're too tense.
Right...
Breathe.
Aster straightened, only to slump as she exhaled. She rocked her head back so that it rested against the wall with a solid thunk. Her legs slid down, limply resting on the floor.
She was like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Her eyes were dim, skin pale, clearly unwell from loss of blood.
//Warning: This thread will be a rough read. Be prepared. Specific CWs will be noted as they come.\\
A head full of poison. Veins ready to burst, burning from the inside out. Skin begging to be peeled back, if only to reveal whatever was wrong below.
Agony.
Snakes push onwards, consuming themselves out of stress. Rats tangle together in panic, only worsening their states as they twist and writhe for freedom. A trapped fox chews off its own leg to escape, yet bleeds out before it can run.
Aster was reading when it happened, examining another section of the scroll in her “closet lab.” (A secret room behind her closet, Ro has one too, he made them. They're essentially bunkers. His is a laboratory, Aster's is... A mess of artifacts.)
Something just...
₴₦₳₱₱ɆĐ.
Her eyes were blown wide, pupils now pinpricks. She let out a strangled gasp and clutched at the table, nails digging into it until her fingers bled.
Harder. Splinters tore through her fingers but she paid them no mind.
Aster stared up at Tim, with pure spiraling madness in her eyes. It writhed and twisted, coiling round and round until all semblance of rationality was gone.
Tim was leafing quietly through some papers. His mind was more stable now, he'd almost backed out of this decision. He trusted Bruce, and this girl didn't seem the most.... put together. But maybe, just maybe she was right, and she was like him, and she wasn't afraid of him. That's what made him stay.
He blinked at her voice and looked up with questioning eyes.
"Aster?"
The madness was back, he knew that- That utter, desparate, out of touch madness that he hated so much. Maybe he shouldn't have done this at all.
She slammed her fist onto the table. It flickered out of existence and ended up inside of it.
Aster's breathing went ragged, heaving each breath out like it hurt. For a moment, Tim could've sworn he saw a glowing, misty figment of pointed teeth..?
Old reflexes kicked in and he jumped back, heart hammering.
Didn't we teach you anything, you useless arrogant boy?!
He blinked away the memories of raised voices and pounding fists, watching her carefully, noting the split-second... something with all the sharpness of a detective's mind. This was bad.
Madness taking over.
Time to dip or time to stay? He could call for help? They'd come for her, surely. The way they never looked for him.
"Okay."
He kept his eyes on her the whole time he backed toward the door.
"Yes, I thought- I've been helping her, I thought that-"
"Save it Replacement, where is she?"
"Her apartment. There's a bunker in the closet- Jay- WAIT!"
"See ya Timbuktu!"
--------
There was a soft thud of boots landing on a windowsil. The panel slid up with a quiet creek, and Jason stepped inside. Messy, certainly not the home of any sane person. Bad.
He tappped his comm. Time to call in backup.
"J?"
"Ya what, please tell me there's a mission."
"Aster's loosin' it. Tim was helpin' her study the curse, I think she might end up killin' herself-"
"S-shut up. Where're you??"
"Her apartment."
"Three minutes, don' let her die Jay please-"
"Won't. Get here soon."
The line disconnected with a click. He sighed.
It wasn't hard to find the bunker, exactly where Tim said it was. The door scraped open reluctantly.
//TW: Mentions of self harm, depictions of gore. Disturbing imagery.\\
Metallic air danced with dust and despair.
A hurricane of insanity had left the room in shambles. Scratch marks lined the walls, and bits and pieces of them had been savagely ripped off... Papers and maps were haphazardly taped all over and scribbled across in purple pen. The table had been battered and broken, slammed to pieces.
Artifacts laid broken, creating a carpet of ceramic and stone. Words... There was a rollercoaster of words everywhere. Some ancient, some modern.
Even just looking at them, Jason felt a- A PULL towards something more. Something... Something beyond.
Written on the floor, the walls, the bloody CEILING and... Blood.
...There was... Holy shit, there was blood everywhere.
Pools, streaks, handprints... ...Runes?
And there, in the middle of it all, sat Aster Voss.
She was kneeling on the ground, surrounded by shredded paper. Her hair was matted with tangles and crimson, eyes wide and manic, and...
Oh, god.
Her arms.
No longer were the ancient symbols drawn, no... No, they were cut. The wounds were deep, nearly to the bone, and glistening with red. Mutilated flesh tore through, flickering... Flickering in and out of existence. A mist seemed to seep outwards, oozing through the gashes.
Despite it all... Aster tilted her head, neck cracked at an unnatural angle, and stared.
He crouched by her side and quickly scanned the injuries, cursing in a variety of colorful ways internally. He quickly made note of the few sharp things there were nearby and kicked the closest one away.
"Oh jeeeeeez- Lemme see that?"
He reached for the roll of gauze he kept in his belt.
Aster rose to her feet and staggered backward, face feral. Her lips curled back, and the mist...
It rose from her flesh, pouring out of the slashes closest to her face, ripping and tearing along the way. It morphed to form a spirit's fangs, jagged and cruel, encircling her mouth and jaw.
“YOU CAN'T STOP ME, TODD. YOU'LL BE KILLING ME IF YOU DO. I can't I SHAN'T LET YOU DO THAT.”
She heaved, panting as waterfalls of blood and mist poured out of her arms. Aster's breathing was heavy, as if her lungs themselves were on the verge of failure. Her body contorted with each breath, making her look downright animalistic.
Mist, once blue, now blood red pooled around Jason's feet.
Aster stumbled backwards and grasped at her face. It was solid. Noting this, she began tearing at it. Her nails were sharp enough to do real damage, but oh, was she desperate.
“thIS IS WHY. IT'S IT-”
She grabbed at her eye and instantly screamed, still feeling pain from it.
His hand shot out with lightning-quick reflexes to grip her mutilated wrist, almost like a bandage holding the flesh together. He felt his stomach twist. He couldn't make himself look.
Don't look. You'll be okay, I promise, just don't look.
Steady hands.
Your hands hold your life. Blood or sand in your eyes, broken limbs, it doesn't matter - Just hold tight.
"Stop."
He slowly pulled her hand away from her face as best he could.
He forced his hands to stay steady and hold tight. He felt frantic. Utterly unequipped and off-guard frantic, trying to keep her from hurting herself. He was just squeezing more blood out wasn't he...? Oh god was that a bone-
Don't. Look.
Steady. Hands.
He tried to hold on through the blood-slick mess- Alright, touch helped right? It was helping- It had to help, it was the last idea he had here.
He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and prayed she didn't punch his eyeballs out.
"Don' know A. 'm not even sure what you're talkin' about."
He admitted slowly. He sighed and let some of the tension drain out of his shoulders.
And he couldn't put this off any longer.
Silently, he made himself look back at the torn flesh and carefully relaxed his grip on her wrist, raising it just a little to get a better look. He quietly took a roll of gauze from his belt and started to stem the bloodflow.
Hatred wasn't an unfamiliar feeling to a man defined by rage. He felt just a little of it curl in his gut, just a little, revenge for a sister he barely knew but already loved.
"Don't look A."
He whispered.
"I promise you'll be okay. Jus' keep your eyes closed for a second."
He finished wrapping it and carefully reached for her other wrist.
“...He was tracking a, a... Spirit is the best word for it. ...Asked me to travel with him, since live experience would do me good and- And if I came and helped him, he'd help me too... But I was fourteen, inexperienced, and...”
...She trailed off, and let the bite mark do the talking.
The pain was indescribable at first. Paralyzing. Now, though, it was only a reminder. A reminder of how...
“...He just ran. Assumed I was dead, and... Left me there...”
“...There's only one thing I... Ever really wanted,” she breathed out a wry laugh. “And it's not to save myself, because I think... I think somehow I knew that couldn't happen. Trying for the impossible, and... All that...”
Relax yourself... You're too tense.
Right...
Breathe.
Aster straightened, only to slump as she exhaled. She rocked her head back so that it rested against the wall with a solid thunk. Her legs slid down, limply resting on the floor.
She was like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Her eyes were dim, skin pale, clearly unwell from loss of blood.
//Warning: This thread will be a rough read. Be prepared. Specific CWs will be noted as they come.\\
A head full of poison. Veins ready to burst, burning from the inside out. Skin begging to be peeled back, if only to reveal whatever was wrong below.
Agony.
Snakes push onwards, consuming themselves out of stress. Rats tangle together in panic, only worsening their states as they twist and writhe for freedom. A trapped fox chews off its own leg to escape, yet bleeds out before it can run.
Aster was reading when it happened, examining another section of the scroll in her “closet lab.” (A secret room behind her closet, Ro has one too, he made them. They're essentially bunkers. His is a laboratory, Aster's is... A mess of artifacts.)
Something just...
₴₦₳₱₱ɆĐ.
Her eyes were blown wide, pupils now pinpricks. She let out a strangled gasp and clutched at the table, nails digging into it until her fingers bled.
Harder. Splinters tore through her fingers but she paid them no mind.
Aster stared up at Tim, with pure spiraling madness in her eyes. It writhed and twisted, coiling round and round until all semblance of rationality was gone.
Tim was leafing quietly through some papers. His mind was more stable now, he'd almost backed out of this decision. He trusted Bruce, and this girl didn't seem the most.... put together. But maybe, just maybe she was right, and she was like him, and she wasn't afraid of him. That's what made him stay.
He blinked at her voice and looked up with questioning eyes.
"Aster?"
The madness was back, he knew that- That utter, desparate, out of touch madness that he hated so much. Maybe he shouldn't have done this at all.
She slammed her fist onto the table. It flickered out of existence and ended up inside of it.
Aster's breathing went ragged, heaving each breath out like it hurt. For a moment, Tim could've sworn he saw a glowing, misty figment of pointed teeth..?
Old reflexes kicked in and he jumped back, heart hammering.
Didn't we teach you anything, you useless arrogant boy?!
He blinked away the memories of raised voices and pounding fists, watching her carefully, noting the split-second... something with all the sharpness of a detective's mind. This was bad.
Madness taking over.
Time to dip or time to stay? He could call for help? They'd come for her, surely. The way they never looked for him.
"Okay."
He kept his eyes on her the whole time he backed toward the door.
"Yes, I thought- I've been helping her, I thought that-"
"Save it Replacement, where is she?"
"Her apartment. There's a bunker in the closet- Jay- WAIT!"
"See ya Timbuktu!"
--------
There was a soft thud of boots landing on a windowsil. The panel slid up with a quiet creek, and Jason stepped inside. Messy, certainly not the home of any sane person. Bad.
He tappped his comm. Time to call in backup.
"J?"
"Ya what, please tell me there's a mission."
"Aster's loosin' it. Tim was helpin' her study the curse, I think she might end up killin' herself-"
"S-shut up. Where're you??"
"Her apartment."
"Three minutes, don' let her die Jay please-"
"Won't. Get here soon."
The line disconnected with a click. He sighed.
It wasn't hard to find the bunker, exactly where Tim said it was. The door scraped open reluctantly.
//TW: Mentions of self harm, depictions of gore. Disturbing imagery.\\
Metallic air danced with dust and despair.
A hurricane of insanity had left the room in shambles. Scratch marks lined the walls, and bits and pieces of them had been savagely ripped off... Papers and maps were haphazardly taped all over and scribbled across in purple pen. The table had been battered and broken, slammed to pieces.
Artifacts laid broken, creating a carpet of ceramic and stone. Words... There was a rollercoaster of words everywhere. Some ancient, some modern.
Even just looking at them, Jason felt a- A PULL towards something more. Something... Something beyond.
Written on the floor, the walls, the bloody CEILING and... Blood.
...There was... Holy shit, there was blood everywhere.
Pools, streaks, handprints... ...Runes?
And there, in the middle of it all, sat Aster Voss.
She was kneeling on the ground, surrounded by shredded paper. Her hair was matted with tangles and crimson, eyes wide and manic, and...
Oh, god.
Her arms.
No longer were the ancient symbols drawn, no... No, they were cut. The wounds were deep, nearly to the bone, and glistening with red. Mutilated flesh tore through, flickering... Flickering in and out of existence. A mist seemed to seep outwards, oozing through the gashes.
Despite it all... Aster tilted her head, neck cracked at an unnatural angle, and stared.
He crouched by her side and quickly scanned the injuries, cursing in a variety of colorful ways internally. He quickly made note of the few sharp things there were nearby and kicked the closest one away.
"Oh jeeeeeez- Lemme see that?"
He reached for the roll of gauze he kept in his belt.
Aster rose to her feet and staggered backward, face feral. Her lips curled back, and the mist...
It rose from her flesh, pouring out of the slashes closest to her face, ripping and tearing along the way. It morphed to form a spirit's fangs, jagged and cruel, encircling her mouth and jaw.
“YOU CAN'T STOP ME, TODD. YOU'LL BE KILLING ME IF YOU DO. I can't I SHAN'T LET YOU DO THAT.”
She heaved, panting as waterfalls of blood and mist poured out of her arms. Aster's breathing was heavy, as if her lungs themselves were on the verge of failure. Her body contorted with each breath, making her look downright animalistic.
Mist, once blue, now blood red pooled around Jason's feet.
Aster stumbled backwards and grasped at her face. It was solid. Noting this, she began tearing at it. Her nails were sharp enough to do real damage, but oh, was she desperate.
“thIS IS WHY. IT'S IT-”
She grabbed at her eye and instantly screamed, still feeling pain from it.
His hand shot out with lightning-quick reflexes to grip her mutilated wrist, almost like a bandage holding the flesh together. He felt his stomach twist. He couldn't make himself look.
Don't look. You'll be okay, I promise, just don't look.
Steady hands.
Your hands hold your life. Blood or sand in your eyes, broken limbs, it doesn't matter - Just hold tight.
"Stop."
He slowly pulled her hand away from her face as best he could.
He forced his hands to stay steady and hold tight. He felt frantic. Utterly unequipped and off-guard frantic, trying to keep her from hurting herself. He was just squeezing more blood out wasn't he...? Oh god was that a bone-
Don't. Look.
Steady. Hands.
He tried to hold on through the blood-slick mess- Alright, touch helped right? It was helping- It had to help, it was the last idea he had here.
He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and prayed she didn't punch his eyeballs out.
"Don' know A. 'm not even sure what you're talkin' about."
He admitted slowly. He sighed and let some of the tension drain out of his shoulders.
And he couldn't put this off any longer.
Silently, he made himself look back at the torn flesh and carefully relaxed his grip on her wrist, raising it just a little to get a better look. He quietly took a roll of gauze from his belt and started to stem the bloodflow.
Hatred wasn't an unfamiliar feeling to a man defined by rage. He felt just a little of it curl in his gut, just a little, revenge for a sister he barely knew but already loved.
"Don't look A."
He whispered.
"I promise you'll be okay. Jus' keep your eyes closed for a second."
He finished wrapping it and carefully reached for her other wrist.
“...He was tracking a, a... Spirit is the best word for it. ...Asked me to travel with him, since live experience would do me good and- And if I came and helped him, he'd help me too... But I was fourteen, inexperienced, and...”
...She trailed off, and let the bite mark do the talking.
The pain was indescribable at first. Paralyzing. Now, though, it was only a reminder. A reminder of how...
“...He just ran. Assumed I was dead, and... Left me there...”
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//Warning: This thread will be a rough read. Be prepared. Specific CWs will be noted as they come.\\
A head full of poison. Veins ready to burst, burning from the inside out. Skin begging to be peeled back, if only to reveal whatever was wrong below.
Agony.
Snakes push onwards, consuming themselves out of stress. Rats tangle together in panic, only worsening their states as they twist and writhe for freedom. A trapped fox chews off its own leg to escape, yet bleeds out before it can run.
Aster was reading when it happened, examining another section of the scroll in her “closet lab.” (A secret room behind her closet, Ro has one too, he made them. They're essentially bunkers. His is a laboratory, Aster's is... A mess of artifacts.)
Something just...
₴₦₳₱₱ɆĐ.
Her eyes were blown wide, pupils now pinpricks. She let out a strangled gasp and clutched at the table, nails digging into it until her fingers bled.
Harder. Splinters tore through her fingers but she paid them no mind.
Aster stared up at Tim, with pure spiraling madness in her eyes. It writhed and twisted, coiling round and round until all semblance of rationality was gone.
Tim was leafing quietly through some papers. His mind was more stable now, he'd almost backed out of this decision. He trusted Bruce, and this girl didn't seem the most.... put together. But maybe, just maybe she was right, and she was like him, and she wasn't afraid of him. That's what made him stay.
He blinked at her voice and looked up with questioning eyes.
"Aster?"
The madness was back, he knew that- That utter, desparate, out of touch madness that he hated so much. Maybe he shouldn't have done this at all.
She slammed her fist onto the table. It flickered out of existence and ended up inside of it.
Aster's breathing went ragged, heaving each breath out like it hurt. For a moment, Tim could've sworn he saw a glowing, misty figment of pointed teeth..?
Old reflexes kicked in and he jumped back, heart hammering.
Didn't we teach you anything, you useless arrogant boy?!
He blinked away the memories of raised voices and pounding fists, watching her carefully, noting the split-second... something with all the sharpness of a detective's mind. This was bad.
Madness taking over.
Time to dip or time to stay? He could call for help? They'd come for her, surely. The way they never looked for him.
"Okay."
He kept his eyes on her the whole time he backed toward the door.
"Yes, I thought- I've been helping her, I thought that-"
"Save it Replacement, where is she?"
"Her apartment. There's a bunker in the closet- Jay- WAIT!"
"See ya Timbuktu!"
--------
There was a soft thud of boots landing on a windowsil. The panel slid up with a quiet creek, and Jason stepped inside. Messy, certainly not the home of any sane person. Bad.
He tappped his comm. Time to call in backup.
"J?"
"Ya what, please tell me there's a mission."
"Aster's loosin' it. Tim was helpin' her study the curse, I think she might end up killin' herself-"
"S-shut up. Where're you??"
"Her apartment."
"Three minutes, don' let her die Jay please-"
"Won't. Get here soon."
The line disconnected with a click. He sighed.
It wasn't hard to find the bunker, exactly where Tim said it was. The door scraped open reluctantly.
//TW: Mentions of self harm, depictions of gore. Disturbing imagery.\\
Metallic air danced with dust and despair.
A hurricane of insanity had left the room in shambles. Scratch marks lined the walls, and bits and pieces of them had been savagely ripped off... Papers and maps were haphazardly taped all over and scribbled across in purple pen. The table had been battered and broken, slammed to pieces.
Artifacts laid broken, creating a carpet of ceramic and stone. Words... There was a rollercoaster of words everywhere. Some ancient, some modern.
Even just looking at them, Jason felt a- A PULL towards something more. Something... Something beyond.
Written on the floor, the walls, the bloody CEILING and... Blood.
...There was... Holy shit, there was blood everywhere.
Pools, streaks, handprints... ...Runes?
And there, in the middle of it all, sat Aster Voss.
She was kneeling on the ground, surrounded by shredded paper. Her hair was matted with tangles and crimson, eyes wide and manic, and...
Oh, god.
Her arms.
No longer were the ancient symbols drawn, no... No, they were cut. The wounds were deep, nearly to the bone, and glistening with red. Mutilated flesh tore through, flickering... Flickering in and out of existence. A mist seemed to seep outwards, oozing through the gashes.
Despite it all... Aster tilted her head, neck cracked at an unnatural angle, and stared.
He crouched by her side and quickly scanned the injuries, cursing in a variety of colorful ways internally. He quickly made note of the few sharp things there were nearby and kicked the closest one away.
"Oh jeeeeeez- Lemme see that?"
He reached for the roll of gauze he kept in his belt.
Aster rose to her feet and staggered backward, face feral. Her lips curled back, and the mist...
It rose from her flesh, pouring out of the slashes closest to her face, ripping and tearing along the way. It morphed to form a spirit's fangs, jagged and cruel, encircling her mouth and jaw.
“YOU CAN'T STOP ME, TODD. YOU'LL BE KILLING ME IF YOU DO. I can't I SHAN'T LET YOU DO THAT.”
She heaved, panting as waterfalls of blood and mist poured out of her arms. Aster's breathing was heavy, as if her lungs themselves were on the verge of failure. Her body contorted with each breath, making her look downright animalistic.
Mist, once blue, now blood red pooled around Jason's feet.
Aster stumbled backwards and grasped at her face. It was solid. Noting this, she began tearing at it. Her nails were sharp enough to do real damage, but oh, was she desperate.
“thIS IS WHY. IT'S IT-”
She grabbed at her eye and instantly screamed, still feeling pain from it.
His hand shot out with lightning-quick reflexes to grip her mutilated wrist, almost like a bandage holding the flesh together. He felt his stomach twist. He couldn't make himself look.
Don't look. You'll be okay, I promise, just don't look.
Steady hands.
Your hands hold your life. Blood or sand in your eyes, broken limbs, it doesn't matter - Just hold tight.
"Stop."
He slowly pulled her hand away from her face as best he could.
He forced his hands to stay steady and hold tight. He felt frantic. Utterly unequipped and off-guard frantic, trying to keep her from hurting herself. He was just squeezing more blood out wasn't he...? Oh god was that a bone-
Don't. Look.
Steady. Hands.
He tried to hold on through the blood-slick mess- Alright, touch helped right? It was helping- It had to help, it was the last idea he had here.
He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and prayed she didn't punch his eyeballs out.
"Don' know A. 'm not even sure what you're talkin' about."
He admitted slowly. He sighed and let some of the tension drain out of his shoulders.
And he couldn't put this off any longer.
Silently, he made himself look back at the torn flesh and carefully relaxed his grip on her wrist, raising it just a little to get a better look. He quietly took a roll of gauze from his belt and started to stem the bloodflow.
Hatred wasn't an unfamiliar feeling to a man defined by rage. He felt just a little of it curl in his gut, just a little, revenge for a sister he barely knew but already loved.
"Don't look A."
He whispered.
"I promise you'll be okay. Jus' keep your eyes closed for a second."
He finished wrapping it and carefully reached for her other wrist.
“...He was tracking a, a... Spirit is the best word for it. ...Asked me to travel with him, since live experience would do me good and- And if I came and helped him, he'd help me too... But I was fourteen, inexperienced, and...”
...She trailed off, and let the bite mark do the talking.
The pain was indescribable at first. Paralyzing. Now, though, it was only a reminder. A reminder of how...
“...He just ran. Assumed I was dead, and... Left me there...”
//Warning: This thread will be a rough read. Be prepared. Specific CWs will be noted as they come.\\
A head full of poison. Veins ready to burst, burning from the inside out. Skin begging to be peeled back, if only to reveal whatever was wrong below.
Agony.
Snakes push onwards, consuming themselves out of stress. Rats tangle together in panic, only worsening their states as they twist and writhe for freedom. A trapped fox chews off its own leg to escape, yet bleeds out before it can run.
Aster was reading when it happened, examining another section of the scroll in her “closet lab.” (A secret room behind her closet, Ro has one too, he made them. They're essentially bunkers. His is a laboratory, Aster's is... A mess of artifacts.)
Something just...
₴₦₳₱₱ɆĐ.
Her eyes were blown wide, pupils now pinpricks. She let out a strangled gasp and clutched at the table, nails digging into it until her fingers bled.
Harder. Splinters tore through her fingers but she paid them no mind.
Aster stared up at Tim, with pure spiraling madness in her eyes. It writhed and twisted, coiling round and round until all semblance of rationality was gone.
Tim was leafing quietly through some papers. His mind was more stable now, he'd almost backed out of this decision. He trusted Bruce, and this girl didn't seem the most.... put together. But maybe, just maybe she was right, and she was like him, and she wasn't afraid of him. That's what made him stay.
He blinked at her voice and looked up with questioning eyes.
"Aster?"
The madness was back, he knew that- That utter, desparate, out of touch madness that he hated so much. Maybe he shouldn't have done this at all.
She slammed her fist onto the table. It flickered out of existence and ended up inside of it.
Aster's breathing went ragged, heaving each breath out like it hurt. For a moment, Tim could've sworn he saw a glowing, misty figment of pointed teeth..?
Old reflexes kicked in and he jumped back, heart hammering.
Didn't we teach you anything, you useless arrogant boy?!
He blinked away the memories of raised voices and pounding fists, watching her carefully, noting the split-second... something with all the sharpness of a detective's mind. This was bad.
Madness taking over.
Time to dip or time to stay? He could call for help? They'd come for her, surely. The way they never looked for him.
"Okay."
He kept his eyes on her the whole time he backed toward the door.
"Yes, I thought- I've been helping her, I thought that-"
"Save it Replacement, where is she?"
"Her apartment. There's a bunker in the closet- Jay- WAIT!"
"See ya Timbuktu!"
--------
There was a soft thud of boots landing on a windowsil. The panel slid up with a quiet creek, and Jason stepped inside. Messy, certainly not the home of any sane person. Bad.
He tappped his comm. Time to call in backup.
"J?"
"Ya what, please tell me there's a mission."
"Aster's loosin' it. Tim was helpin' her study the curse, I think she might end up killin' herself-"
"S-shut up. Where're you??"
"Her apartment."
"Three minutes, don' let her die Jay please-"
"Won't. Get here soon."
The line disconnected with a click. He sighed.
It wasn't hard to find the bunker, exactly where Tim said it was. The door scraped open reluctantly.
//TW: Mentions of self harm, depictions of gore. Disturbing imagery.\\
Metallic air danced with dust and despair.
A hurricane of insanity had left the room in shambles. Scratch marks lined the walls, and bits and pieces of them had been savagely ripped off... Papers and maps were haphazardly taped all over and scribbled across in purple pen. The table had been battered and broken, slammed to pieces.
Artifacts laid broken, creating a carpet of ceramic and stone. Words... There was a rollercoaster of words everywhere. Some ancient, some modern.
Even just looking at them, Jason felt a- A PULL towards something more. Something... Something beyond.
Written on the floor, the walls, the bloody CEILING and... Blood.
...There was... Holy shit, there was blood everywhere.
Pools, streaks, handprints... ...Runes?
And there, in the middle of it all, sat Aster Voss.
She was kneeling on the ground, surrounded by shredded paper. Her hair was matted with tangles and crimson, eyes wide and manic, and...
Oh, god.
Her arms.
No longer were the ancient symbols drawn, no... No, they were cut. The wounds were deep, nearly to the bone, and glistening with red. Mutilated flesh tore through, flickering... Flickering in and out of existence. A mist seemed to seep outwards, oozing through the gashes.
Despite it all... Aster tilted her head, neck cracked at an unnatural angle, and stared.
He crouched by her side and quickly scanned the injuries, cursing in a variety of colorful ways internally. He quickly made note of the few sharp things there were nearby and kicked the closest one away.
"Oh jeeeeeez- Lemme see that?"
He reached for the roll of gauze he kept in his belt.
Aster rose to her feet and staggered backward, face feral. Her lips curled back, and the mist...
It rose from her flesh, pouring out of the slashes closest to her face, ripping and tearing along the way. It morphed to form a spirit's fangs, jagged and cruel, encircling her mouth and jaw.
“YOU CAN'T STOP ME, TODD. YOU'LL BE KILLING ME IF YOU DO. I can't I SHAN'T LET YOU DO THAT.”
She heaved, panting as waterfalls of blood and mist poured out of her arms. Aster's breathing was heavy, as if her lungs themselves were on the verge of failure. Her body contorted with each breath, making her look downright animalistic.
Mist, once blue, now blood red pooled around Jason's feet.
Aster stumbled backwards and grasped at her face. It was solid. Noting this, she began tearing at it. Her nails were sharp enough to do real damage, but oh, was she desperate.
“thIS IS WHY. IT'S IT-”
She grabbed at her eye and instantly screamed, still feeling pain from it.
His hand shot out with lightning-quick reflexes to grip her mutilated wrist, almost like a bandage holding the flesh together. He felt his stomach twist. He couldn't make himself look.
Don't look. You'll be okay, I promise, just don't look.
Steady hands.
Your hands hold your life. Blood or sand in your eyes, broken limbs, it doesn't matter - Just hold tight.
"Stop."
He slowly pulled her hand away from her face as best he could.
He forced his hands to stay steady and hold tight. He felt frantic. Utterly unequipped and off-guard frantic, trying to keep her from hurting herself. He was just squeezing more blood out wasn't he...? Oh god was that a bone-
Don't. Look.
Steady. Hands.
He tried to hold on through the blood-slick mess- Alright, touch helped right? It was helping- It had to help, it was the last idea he had here.
He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and prayed she didn't punch his eyeballs out.
"Don' know A. 'm not even sure what you're talkin' about."
He admitted slowly. He sighed and let some of the tension drain out of his shoulders.
And he couldn't put this off any longer.
Silently, he made himself look back at the torn flesh and carefully relaxed his grip on her wrist, raising it just a little to get a better look. He quietly took a roll of gauze from his belt and started to stem the bloodflow.
Hatred wasn't an unfamiliar feeling to a man defined by rage. He felt just a little of it curl in his gut, just a little, revenge for a sister he barely knew but already loved.
"Don't look A."
He whispered.
"I promise you'll be okay. Jus' keep your eyes closed for a second."
He finished wrapping it and carefully reached for her other wrist.
