Temujin "Gene" Khan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wrathfulkhan) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tushanshu_logs2017-10-09 01:17 pm
wrathfulkhan) wrote in tushanshu_logs2017-10-09 01:17 pm
I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory
Characters: Gene, Alex, Miles, and Aly (not Jackie, the poor lamb has suffered enough. HE ALREADY RELIVED HIS DEATH RECENTLY OKAY)
Date: Throughout October
Location: House Spicy Iron Dragon, throughout Keeliai
Situation: Death visions? Death visions.
Warnings/Rating: Rated M for Murder. Specifically, gun violence, beheadings, and meatsplosions. No, seriously. Miles' death visions are especially brutal. That's what happens when you come from a horror canon.
A. [Gene] | House Spicy Iron Dragon | early October | Tony or Pepper, OR BOTH, FUN TIMES
Sometimes Gene doesn't let anyone else in the kitchen, even to clean up. He's scrubbing a plate in the sink, when—
—Tony's standing in front of him in his armor, and even underneath the mask Gene can tell that he's furious.
His rings are gone. He's utterly at Tony's mercy, beaten and bruised, and he knows the fight hasn't been 'fair'.
"You broke my heart. I should have done this a long time ago, you monster," Tony says, lifts his hand, charges a repulsor, and fires.
It hits Gene in the chest, and—
The plate shatters as it hits the floor, and Gene stumbles, bracing himself against the counter, shocked tears streaming down his face. He takes a deep breath, bends down to clean the shattered pieces up, and—
—the Mandarin is standing in front of him. He thinks it's Zhang, but when it speaks, he knows.
It's Pepper.
The Overlord's son had said she was the most worthy to wield the rings, and that's why he doesn't have them. She has them. She has all of them.
"Let me grant your wish. Goodbye, Gene," she says, and she lifts her hand. The tenth ring glows, and the most horrifying thing he can imagine happens.
He can feel himself being unmade. Atom by atom. He's frozen; he can't even scream. He's being unmade, unwritten, removed from time itself. And he knows she'll keep him conscious until the very end. After all he's done, he deserves nothing less.
I'm sorry, is the last thought he ever has.
Gene lurches back to his feet, ignoring the cut on his hand from the broken crockery, and vomits into the sink. I have to re-wash these dishes, he thinks fuzzily, because if he thinks about anything else he'll start screaming and never stop.
B. [Gene] | Jade Dojo | early October | open
It's been a few days since Gene's visions, and he's finally beginning to calm down.
Mistake.
The one with Pepper hits him again like a freight train. It's not any easier to deal with the second time, and he leans his head against the wall, trying to force his nausea down.
C. [Alex] | KPD | early October | Valdis
Alex is walking down the hall when he hears the gunshots.
There shouldn't be any gunshots, and he spins around to confront the attacker, and—
—the car swerved. Time slowed in the way that it does during a catastrophe, and Alex's analytical mind went through every little detail in the three seconds before the Komitet car crashed.
One: The Jackal had found them and identified them as allies of David/Jason/Delta.
Two: Alex immediately knew that the driver was dead.
Three: Kruppie had been shot.
Four: So had he.
Five: In the throat.
Six: Fuck.
There was a screech of metal as the car hit the side of a bus, and—
Alex stumbles, losing his grip on his cane, leaning against the wall, his breathing heavy. Breathing. He could breathe. He hadn't been shot. Not again. He's in Keeliai, he's okay, Mo had told him that everything was going to be all right when - if - he went back home.
D. [Miles] | Metal Sector | mid-October | open
Miles has been having a wonderful roulette of visions. Only one's been the actual way he's died(?), but that doesn't mean the rest are any easier to deal with.
He's lurching towards the exit on a broken leg, bleeding out, half-mad. Almost there. Almost there.
The doors fly open, revealing Wernicke at the head of an entire squad of Merks. Miles raises his hands in surrender. Oh, fuck me—
They shoot anyway. They shoot, and shoot, and shoot, and eventually he falls. At some point, Miles wonders if that isn't overkill, but it doesn't matter. His vision's failing, and he's bleeding out on the floor, more bullet than person.
His skin prickles violently as his vision goes dark, and he thinks he can hear running and screaming.
And if that's not what's happening in his head, it's this:
Under the bed. He's safe under the bed, right? He's breathing too loud, too harsh, shut up, shut up, get it together, Miles, he'll hear you, he'll kill you, shut up!
Chains rattle as Walker lurches down the hallway. At least he's louder than Miles. And at least maybe that means Walker won't hear him. Maybe that means he'll be safe—
"Little pig!" Walker reaches under the bed, grabs him, hauls him up by the neck, and Miles can feel horrible, tearing pain for a second. The last thing he sees is Walker's permanently-bared teeth, and his own headless body lying on the floor.
He ripped my damn head off. What a way to go.
Or, only once (which is more than enough):
Fuck, shit, fuck, shit, fuck, shit, fuck!
The Walrider's behind him. It had just juiced Walker, but after he'd spoken to Wernicke, it seemed that whatever goodwill Miles had earned with Billy had run out. He's running down the hallway, feet pounding on the floor, heart pounding in his ears, and he ducks into a side corridor to try and juke the thing.
He almost swears when he sees that it's a dead end, but when he looks up, he sees an open vent. He jumps for it, his blood-slick hands scrabbling on the metal, but he slips down.
He's face-to-face with the Walrider. The nanites enter his body, an excruciating pins-and-needles-like sensation spreading through him, and then—
The sharp burst of pain and a cloud of blood before nothingness means he's been turned into a fine red mist.
Miles staggers over to a nearby trashcan and throws up after that one.
E. [Aly] | Wood Sector | early October | Devin
She's minding her own business when it happens.
Rebecca helps me to my feet as I spit yellow birch leaves.
“That everyone?” I ask, unsteady on my feet. “Status?”
There’s a murmured chorus of ‘fine’ from everyone, except for Annie, who whoops, “We kicked some faerie butt!”
I laugh, and Kath laughs, and even the Princeps smiles a little, and I start to relax.
The only indication I have that something’s wrong is a frisson of shock traveling down my connection from the wolf, and I can see him lunge towards me just before—
—intense, cold, searing pain in my neck, all through my neck, and I find myself tumbling backwards. I can see, blurrily, the third assassin, dripping wet, holding a sword drenched in my blood, and my body falling away as the wolf leaps over it to attack the assassin, and—
—oh. I think I’ve been beheaded, is the last thing I can think fuzzily before I quite suddenly don’t think anything at all.
Aly trips over her on feet, one hand over her mouth, the other rubbing the scar at her throat. In fact, she trips right into Devin.
Oh my God. Please let him not have seen that.
Date: Throughout October
Location: House Spicy Iron Dragon, throughout Keeliai
Situation: Death visions? Death visions.
Warnings/Rating: Rated M for Murder. Specifically, gun violence, beheadings, and meatsplosions. No, seriously. Miles' death visions are especially brutal. That's what happens when you come from a horror canon.
A. [Gene] | House Spicy Iron Dragon | early October | Tony or Pepper, OR BOTH, FUN TIMES
Sometimes Gene doesn't let anyone else in the kitchen, even to clean up. He's scrubbing a plate in the sink, when—
—Tony's standing in front of him in his armor, and even underneath the mask Gene can tell that he's furious.
His rings are gone. He's utterly at Tony's mercy, beaten and bruised, and he knows the fight hasn't been 'fair'.
"You broke my heart. I should have done this a long time ago, you monster," Tony says, lifts his hand, charges a repulsor, and fires.
It hits Gene in the chest, and—
The plate shatters as it hits the floor, and Gene stumbles, bracing himself against the counter, shocked tears streaming down his face. He takes a deep breath, bends down to clean the shattered pieces up, and—
—the Mandarin is standing in front of him. He thinks it's Zhang, but when it speaks, he knows.
It's Pepper.
The Overlord's son had said she was the most worthy to wield the rings, and that's why he doesn't have them. She has them. She has all of them.
"Let me grant your wish. Goodbye, Gene," she says, and she lifts her hand. The tenth ring glows, and the most horrifying thing he can imagine happens.
He can feel himself being unmade. Atom by atom. He's frozen; he can't even scream. He's being unmade, unwritten, removed from time itself. And he knows she'll keep him conscious until the very end. After all he's done, he deserves nothing less.
I'm sorry, is the last thought he ever has.
Gene lurches back to his feet, ignoring the cut on his hand from the broken crockery, and vomits into the sink. I have to re-wash these dishes, he thinks fuzzily, because if he thinks about anything else he'll start screaming and never stop.
B. [Gene] | Jade Dojo | early October | open
It's been a few days since Gene's visions, and he's finally beginning to calm down.
Mistake.
The one with Pepper hits him again like a freight train. It's not any easier to deal with the second time, and he leans his head against the wall, trying to force his nausea down.
C. [Alex] | KPD | early October | Valdis
Alex is walking down the hall when he hears the gunshots.
There shouldn't be any gunshots, and he spins around to confront the attacker, and—
—the car swerved. Time slowed in the way that it does during a catastrophe, and Alex's analytical mind went through every little detail in the three seconds before the Komitet car crashed.
One: The Jackal had found them and identified them as allies of David/Jason/Delta.
Two: Alex immediately knew that the driver was dead.
Three: Kruppie had been shot.
Four: So had he.
Five: In the throat.
Six: Fuck.
There was a screech of metal as the car hit the side of a bus, and—
Alex stumbles, losing his grip on his cane, leaning against the wall, his breathing heavy. Breathing. He could breathe. He hadn't been shot. Not again. He's in Keeliai, he's okay, Mo had told him that everything was going to be all right when - if - he went back home.
D. [Miles] | Metal Sector | mid-October | open
Miles has been having a wonderful roulette of visions. Only one's been the actual way he's died(?), but that doesn't mean the rest are any easier to deal with.
He's lurching towards the exit on a broken leg, bleeding out, half-mad. Almost there. Almost there.
The doors fly open, revealing Wernicke at the head of an entire squad of Merks. Miles raises his hands in surrender. Oh, fuck me—
They shoot anyway. They shoot, and shoot, and shoot, and eventually he falls. At some point, Miles wonders if that isn't overkill, but it doesn't matter. His vision's failing, and he's bleeding out on the floor, more bullet than person.
His skin prickles violently as his vision goes dark, and he thinks he can hear running and screaming.
And if that's not what's happening in his head, it's this:
Under the bed. He's safe under the bed, right? He's breathing too loud, too harsh, shut up, shut up, get it together, Miles, he'll hear you, he'll kill you, shut up!
Chains rattle as Walker lurches down the hallway. At least he's louder than Miles. And at least maybe that means Walker won't hear him. Maybe that means he'll be safe—
"Little pig!" Walker reaches under the bed, grabs him, hauls him up by the neck, and Miles can feel horrible, tearing pain for a second. The last thing he sees is Walker's permanently-bared teeth, and his own headless body lying on the floor.
He ripped my damn head off. What a way to go.
Or, only once (which is more than enough):
Fuck, shit, fuck, shit, fuck, shit, fuck!
The Walrider's behind him. It had just juiced Walker, but after he'd spoken to Wernicke, it seemed that whatever goodwill Miles had earned with Billy had run out. He's running down the hallway, feet pounding on the floor, heart pounding in his ears, and he ducks into a side corridor to try and juke the thing.
He almost swears when he sees that it's a dead end, but when he looks up, he sees an open vent. He jumps for it, his blood-slick hands scrabbling on the metal, but he slips down.
He's face-to-face with the Walrider. The nanites enter his body, an excruciating pins-and-needles-like sensation spreading through him, and then—
The sharp burst of pain and a cloud of blood before nothingness means he's been turned into a fine red mist.
Miles staggers over to a nearby trashcan and throws up after that one.
E. [Aly] | Wood Sector | early October | Devin
She's minding her own business when it happens.
Rebecca helps me to my feet as I spit yellow birch leaves.
“That everyone?” I ask, unsteady on my feet. “Status?”
There’s a murmured chorus of ‘fine’ from everyone, except for Annie, who whoops, “We kicked some faerie butt!”
I laugh, and Kath laughs, and even the Princeps smiles a little, and I start to relax.
The only indication I have that something’s wrong is a frisson of shock traveling down my connection from the wolf, and I can see him lunge towards me just before—
—intense, cold, searing pain in my neck, all through my neck, and I find myself tumbling backwards. I can see, blurrily, the third assassin, dripping wet, holding a sword drenched in my blood, and my body falling away as the wolf leaps over it to attack the assassin, and—
—oh. I think I’ve been beheaded, is the last thing I can think fuzzily before I quite suddenly don’t think anything at all.
Aly trips over her on feet, one hand over her mouth, the other rubbing the scar at her throat. In fact, she trips right into Devin.
Oh my God. Please let him not have seen that.
in the best way
"Take your time," is all he says to her. No prodding remarks, no snark. He even pulls his journal out of his pocket to signal that he's fine with not talking, if she wants, but doesn't begin writing anything yet.
no subject
Instead, she's sitting at the table, looking down, trying to regulate her breathing. When the tea comes, she pours for herself and drinks immediately, ignoring the burning pain.
no subject
"You may want to take your time with that as well," he suggests mildly, "or the Healers Guild will be the next stop."