thisavrou_log | you don't know how it is for someone else to own you.

[it's been a bad couple of months for kavinsky, if the going standard is how sexy and human you look. and he does ordinarily like looking sexy and human. were one to ask him what his top five favorite things about himself were, his face and penis (and lbr sketchy boy whiteness) would be really fucking high up there.

but it's a symptom of the alterations he's experienced, that when he experiences them, he no longer particularly cares about his appearance. today, for example, the sclera of his eyes is black and the irises are luminous white-blue. his face has more than the normal amount of sexy human holes in it, sloppy perforations over the bridge of his nose, gaps in his cheeks. underneath, the muscle fibers are glowing.

he'd spent most of the week sleeping, too, until the thing in the cargo hold had grown stronger than exhaustion.

he looks down at ronan's sleeping frame for a long time, remembering something that used to be, then thinking of nothing he's ever thought before. and then he reaches down, tucking skinny arms in under his waist and the back of his legs.]

[Ronan is deep in it, sleeping more soundly than usual and trapped in what has now become the barren wasteland of his nightmares. It's not until Kavinsky begins to jostle his body that Ronan's tugged away from his dreamscape. And even when he stirs, of course, it's no ordinary waking.

Outside of his body, Ronan can see very plainly what's happening to it. There's fresh blood trickling down his forehead from a wound he's just acquired, but that's the least of his concerns. Kavinsky has found him. In its most vulnerable state, Kavinsky has found Ronan's paralyzed body and he's taking it with him. It would be something out of a horror movie even if Kavinsky didn't look like that.

But he does, and this is all somehow more terrifying than the nightmare Ronan just departed.]

Hey, sleeping beauty's awake.

[kavinsky's voice sounds almost like kavinsky's voice. except for the broken extra chord mixed up in it. the odd clarity that comes from being clean out of cigarettes for a few days. he's been dissolving into madness a little while, you know. even the charm of the hoverboard wore off after awhile. he still remembers what it was like, riding along, going fast, enjoying that if not as much as he'd enjoyed accelerating the mitsubishi. even the memory itself holds no interest.

he's happy they're doing this together. just like old times.]

I got somebody for you to meet. You'll like them. Bossy bitch just like Dicky Dickardo was back home. I could always see it in your sad little potato man eyes, Lynch. You want someone to belong with. This one's it.

[What the hell is Kavinsky talking about? It's a different kind of lunacy than Ronan's come to expect from him, being neither overtly sexual nor death threats. As much as an incorporeal consciousness is capable of doing, Ronan's scrambling to reconnect with the body in Kavinsky's arms. But it's too soon, and he's half-afraid the ship is going to drain what little energy he has and send him flying right back into his dreams before he can even tell where his body's being taken.

He manages to hold on to consciousness, fighting his way back until he becomes aware of his fingers and his toes and the weight of his body, which is still too heavy for him to move for himself. His eyes open a sliver, a narrowed glare fixed on Kavinsky.]

...Fuck's wrong with you.

[kavinsky carries his prize around the corner, very thoughtful, unusually careful with not smashing ronan's head into the corner. monolith does enough damage without anybody getting premature head trauma, you know. kavinsky's half insane to begin with, and even he knows that.

(more than half.)]

You can't hear it? [he asks.] You can't hear him talking? Maybe it's because you ain't fucking listening, Lynch. I dunno why I always go for the dumb fucking shits. My curse, [says the technozombie, laughing. curses tend to multiply.]

The only thing I hear is your bullshit.

[Ronan attempts to move his arm, but that fails. He attempts to kick a leg, and that also fails. The damn ship is draining the life right out of him and dreaming has nearly finished the job.]

You look like a fucking corpse, man. You look as dead as you should be. It's finally catching up with you, huh. Learn to let go. Literally. Put me down and fucking die already.

[there's a flicker of uncertainty on kavinsky's face. not because ronan is telling him to die-- at this point, he's had practice. at being told to die. at actually dying.

does he look bad or something? it's not like it occurs to an obsessive, demented space zombie that he should check himself out in the mirror. not when you're following the incredibly powerful impulse to kidnap people for psychic slavery. for once, his looks are the last thing on his mind.]

Maybe I'll get some concealer. After you meet him.

Then we start the musical theater production. Babe, speaking of looking like shit-- [the doors hiss open in front of him, and he steps into the wide, long corridor, lit white. the main hall. the cargo bay isn't too far now. his arms would ache from ronan's weight, but he's more excited than anything. nearly there. the voice in his head clamors.] You do.

[He's aware, though he's fairly certain there aren't actual pieces of him missing. Looking at Kavinsky like this is almost enough to make Ronan feel sorry for the guy. No one in that state should have to be conscious enough to experience it.

Of course, Kavinsky doesn't seem to mind.]

Who the fuck are you talking about? Can't you wait until my legs work on their own? This is fucking stupid, K. Stop for a second and look at yourself.

Relax, Lynch. This is more important. [he boosts ronan slightly in his arms. pauses slightly, when he thinks he's heard someone. he twists his head around to look, but nobody's here. nothing but the long, luminous stretch of eggshell-white spaceship hallway. it takes a great deal to surprise him anymore, but he's paranoid despite this.

he turns his head around again, abruptly. his creepy, glowing hyena eyes blinking. he starts forward once more.]

This is your Barbara Streisand and Catholic God and Dicky Dickardo rolled into one. We get you there and shit will make sense again, sweetheart. No more weird poolside naps and gay crying in your sleep.

[Nate's Garden training has been serving him well as he and his older self have checked various parts of the ILR for husks. As they come out of another clear room, this Nate with his gunblade unsheathed and his Junction Device a lump tucked under his shirt, Nate's eyes narrow as he notices the two people down the hall - one carrying the other and looking an awful lot like the husk posted on the network, albeit not as far gone.

[His eyes dart to the older Nate.]

There. [That's a murmur. Louder, putting his leadership training and minimal experience into his voice, he calls out:] Hey - what's happening here?

[He has to get closer without scaring him off - he's much better with magic at mid-range or closer, and he only has so many spells - and they have to make sure the guy being carried here is okay.]

[This is not the kind of trouble Nate wants to involve himself in, but since when has that ever mattered? Besides, with the kid insistent on sticking his nose into this, there was never really any question about what would happen.

Nate's following his lead, except in the literal sense—he's sticking to his side, gun drawn but not aimed. He's ready to use it, but hopes he won't have to.]

Stick close. We don't know what's going on yet.

[He doesn't trust that there's no threat until he's gotten a damned good look at the scene himself.]

[Ever since the broadcast about the virus spreading on the Moira, Ahsoka has been extra cautious. She doesn't go anywhere without her lightsabers anyways, but today is one of those days she's extremely happy to have them at her side.

It's while she walking down the halls that she hears talking-- and one of them, an all too familiar voice. She increases her pace, rounding a corner to see what looked an awful lot like a husk carrying someone off. And Nathan and someone else was calling them out. Needless to say, she was clearing the distance between them pretty quickly.]

Hey, Nathan-- Everything all right? [She hasn't drawn her lightsabers yet, but her hands are on them and ready, just in case.]

[what. kavinsky is distracted from his usual conversational trolling by the fact that three people abruptly showed up. two point five people, maybe. if you asked him, he would not be particularly nice about it, but nobody's asking him. in fact, the time for conversational trolling is probably over.

he leans over and smacks a big fat mommy kiss on ronan's forehead. then he dumps the other boy on the floor, none too gently.

after that, he ceases to look like the usual kavinsky at all.

instead, he stoops down on all fours, and seizes ronan by the arm. drags him up against the wall of the corridor for safekeeping. he moves easily on his hands and the balls of his feet, more of a spider than a boy now— if a spider could also reach behind the small of his back and pull a silver pistol out of the back of his pants. the metal flashes, but not as brightly as his eyes and the rotted-looking holes in the skin of his face.]

[It's unfortunate that this lingering paralysis doesn't spare him from feeling what's happening to him. The kiss alone nearly makes him retch, and he barely has a second to react to it before he's on the floor and sharp pain is vibrating through his bones.

Would that it could shock him into action. But he's still too weak to even thrash out of Kavinsky's grip as his body's dragged over to the wall. He wants to spit and hurl insults but the way Kavinsky's moving - the sheer creepiness of it - has him at a loss. This is Kavinsky but also very much not Kavinsky. Is there any point in speaking to it?

Ronan turns his head in the direction of the rescuers instead.]

He's got a gun!

[A husk with a gun. That's great.

[Nate hurriedly casts Double on himself, green and blue light flaring from the floor below him and before a purple pentagon of light flashes around him, and follows it up with Protect, a blue shimmer in front of him to lessen the damage from physical attacks like bullets for longer than the light lasts.]

Incapacitate only - I want to try something!

[He looks to his older self, Ahsoka (he hadn't thought to ask her along, but he's glad she's here with her hands on what looks like weapons), and the guy dumped on the floor.]

Can I cast magic on you?

[At Garden, casting magic on your party was fairly expected. Here, he doesn't want to freak out the people from other worlds or in older Nate's case, who haven't seen it before. (Actually I'm also kind of asking for OOC permission with this.)]

[Nate has maybe a second to be amused that for the first time, he's meeting someone who knows his younger self first, making him the weirdo duplicate—aaaand then things rapidly prepare to go to shit.

He whips his gun up at the shouted warning, showing he's ready to fight fire with fire if necessary, and does a side-eye doubletake at the sight of the kid actually using magic. Well, it must be magic, he has no damn clue what else it could be.]

That's not how guns work!

[What, is he supposed to aim for fingers and toes only? Even if he were that much of a sharpshooter, it wouldn't matter. Any shot can potentially be a kill shot. Still, he'll do as asked and not shoot unless he needs to.]

You—stay back. We're not screwing around here.

[At the mention, and sight, of the gun, Ahsoka moves in front of the two Nathans, her lightsabers now drawn and lit up.]

You don't have to do this. We only want to help!

[She has no idea if trying to talk this guy down will do any good, but she has to try.

As for the younger Nathan's request, she nods, glancing over her shoulder very briefly at him.]

Go for it. Just do it fast. I can deflect any shots, but we don't know what else he's capable of.

[kavinsky glances at ronan. and it's fucking weird, that his teenage jersey boy voice comes out of him, familiar as ever, saying,] Never took you for a fucking narc, princess.

[but the rest of kavinsky doesn't seem like kavinsky at all. he skitters up against the wall, keeping his prey behind him. the gun peeks into view when he swings his arm down, staring between the three of them. quick, jerky little reptile movements of his tattered face. his glowing eyes linger over the lightsaber, especially. what the actual hell.]

You bitches should leave. We was already monsters.

[with that, he swings the pistol up. he sights, aims at ahsoka-- but instead of center mass, he takes the far harder shot, at the handle of her weapon. his aim is terrifyingly steady, perhaps even true. but she's a great deal faster than a mere boy, even one enhanced with messy space monster effects.]

Edited (html why) 2016-12-01 04:59 (UTC)

[In the midst of all that chaos, Ronan still finds a moment to bristle at Kavinsky's description of the two of them. They are not monsters. Ronan, at least, is not a monster.]

Kill him!

[That's his answer to Nate's question. Fuck incapacitation. Are they not seeing the same thing he's seeing? Kavinsky's already gone. Rotting. There's nothing to save.]

Use magic or whatever the fuck else you have to use, but just -

[Ronan flinches when Kavinsky takes the shot at Ahsoka. Some of the strength has returned to his limbs, and he struggles to twist his body so that he can start attempting to climb to his feet. Attempting. Not quite succeeding.]

[With one hand directing his magic towards his older self and his gunblade directing it to Ahsoka, Nate casts Protect on his friends as soon as they say yes. Given this husk's weird, inhuman movements, he has every intention of using his maybe cure next, but then the husk fires at Ahsoka, and Nate's semblance of a plan mostly goes out the window.]

Hey!

[Nate runs at him, the flat of his gunblade out ready for a hit rather than a slice. He can't outrun a bullet, he knows that, he trusts Ahsoka to deflect it like she says she can, but he can try to stop the guy from attacking his friends or the guy he was dragging away again. The danger to himself doesn't occur to him, only the thought of protecting people he cares about and, somehow still in his mind, the greater accuracy and efficacy of magic when it's up close instead of on a moving target.

[Despite the request, he doesn't intend to kill this guy, not when there's still a chance he can save him, not when he knows that there's a person somewhere in there.]

Edited (internal monologue I forgot about) 2016-12-05 10:28 (UTC)

[All hell breaks loose, and Nate's suddenly feeling the weight of needing to keep a young girl and a young him alive. When people start rushing each other, he lets instinct takes over and fires a shot.

But dammit, it misses and he's hesitant to fire again in case this magic bullshit can really work. No one should have to die today.

He lunges forward and goes for Ronan, trying to help him to his feet to get away from the psycho.]

Come on, come on, get up!

[Even without the Force, thanks to her montrals, the slight shift in his positioning catches her notice, and Ahsoka is able to adjust her own position quick enough to still deflect the gun shot. She could have easily turned it right back on him, but she's giving Nathan a chance to put his idea into action, and the deflected bullet flies far away from the chaos.]

Nathan! [so when she agreed to the magic thing, she didn't think he'd actually rush this guy. She may be guilty of plenty rash decisions, but even she gets a bad feeling about this. With a spin of her lightsabers, she returns to her defensive position as she rushes forward as well, ready to intervene and help her friend if he needs her.]

[the pieces start moving, and then kavinsky starts to move.

and again: he moves all wrong.

he springs up on all fours and dives toward nathan. his spine shouldn't slope right for him to do that, nor the bones of his hands and his arms meet just right. and yet he does, scrabbling over the floor, the gun in one fist going wrang wrangwrangwrang as he gains speed. straight toward nathan with the gunblade drawn. the other nate's shot flies over his shoulder.

kavinsky slams into the flat of the gunblade, his teeth flashing. impossibly, he lands against the weapon with his feet, and in the same move, kicks out. either nathan ends up shoved backward into the wall, or he'll himself go careening away like a cat. both, maybe.

he screams at the other nate. screams. there's nothing human about it. raising his gun again, he fires a shot of his own, forgetting ahsoka there, before swiveling haphazardly to try instead to shoot the younger one.

but it does mean he's abandoned ronan.]

[With Nate's support, Ronan's finally on his feet, but he's leaning heavily and still can't hold his own weight. Dreaming doesn't usually drain him this much, but with the ship in this state, he's had to consume so much of his own energy. Adrenaline is the only thing keeping him conscious right now, and his limbs still haven't gotten the message. Unless they carry or drag him, there won't be any rushing him away.

And on top of it all, Ronan's attention is fixed entirely on Kavinsky. It makes him feel sick, seeing Kavinsky like this. There's no love between them, but it's difficult to witness even a mortal enemy subjected to this. He doesnt understand why they're not doing everything in their power to end this.]

For fuck's sake, put him out of his misery.

[As he and the husk draw closer to each other, Nate takes one hand off his gunblade to aim, light already bursting around his feet. While he doesn't need to say a spell aloud to cast it (only be able to say it), he's found that it helps him focus one:]

Esuna!

[Although technically this is more howling the spell's name than saying it. For this spell, the light that flashes around Kavinsky right as his feet hit the gunblade is teal with a little sparkle of purple. Nate's too focused on that to care too much about hitting the wall - his Protect spell takes the brunt of the damage, so as long as the magic hits and affects him, and he doesn't cut himself up with his own gunblade as he ends up in the wall, he doesn't mind the remnants of pain nor ending up somewhere unplanned.

[Still, the surprise of it is enough to slow him down a little when he tries to dodge the bullet. The graze on his arm makes him yelp in pain and drop his gunblade.]

[It's sheer luck that the bullet misses, because Nate is in no position to dodge when he sees the gun come up in a split second. Even if he didn't have Ronan to support, it's too close, too fast.

He's half-forgotten that he's here for backup, that the kid had a specific purpose in coming here that would allow everyone to talk away. He's going on instinct honed by experience in too many firefights, something he relies on to stay alive. But that instinct is hampered, pulling him in two different directions. He would never abandon anyone here, but he can't get Ronan to safety without abandoning the kid, and he can't help the kid with this guy leaning on him.

It's the yelp that does it in the end. Call it self defense, remembering flight attendant instructions to secure your own airbag before assisting others and all that—he has to look out for the kid above all others.

He eases Ronan down as gently as possible while also being as quick as possible and throws himself forward, putting his body between zombie guy and the kid, giving him a chance to retrieve his gunblade and cast any more magic that might be needed.]

[The gun firing happened so quickly, Ahsoka barely had time to react. She can't get between the husk and the others fast enough to deflect the bullets, but she can manipulate what they do. She stops in her tracks, reaching forward and pulling the Force with all her might to make sure those bullets don't hit their marks.

Her stomach dropped when she heard the yelp, knowing she wasn't quite fast enough to help Nathan. But a graze is better than a direct hit, and while she's definitely not happy, it's a better outcome than it could have been.

And she can't let it paralyze her, either. Once she's sure Nathan isn't gravely injured, she's moving again, now focused on Kavinsky. She's counting on the older Nathan to hold his attention as she rushes him, attempting to push him out of the way with the Force and get the gun away from him.]

[the gunblade drops. clacks against the ground, weighty metal on metal. kavinsky grins, feral in his trumph, his teeth strangely perfect against the ragged, rotted-through holes on the skin of his face. he rounds at his quarry, just in time for the spell— esuna-- to hit him squarely.

he seems to freeze in the air for an instant, right in the middle of his next crazy spider scrabble.

and the next instant, ahsoka's force wave hits him. lifts him neatly off the ground, his own pistol falling away. his skinny arms and legs flap in mid-air, much like an insect hit with poison. he convulses, but it's not the force; the twist and shudder comes even before he thwaps into the floor again, ten yards back from where he started. this time, he doesn't get up. a glow of light starts to move over him. vivid and warm, focused piercingly over the open wounds in his zombie skin.

he screeches. it's hard to tell if it's pain or merely surprise, but it still doesn't sound anything remotely human.]

you don't know how it is for someone else to own you.

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how do u feel about multiple rescuers? nate is asking

whatever works!

have informed the rescuers down under

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shall i tell the rescuers to tag in soon

sure!!

cw homophobic language

two more after me!

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WELCOME RESCUERS :D

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sorry for no icon/formatting; e-mail tagging

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sorry for the delay!

sorry too |D

np np (also boop me if this is too many moves!)

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