Something's Wrong in this House Today

[setmatch]

WHO: David Klein, Chauncy Anderson, and Magnus Chase
WHERE: Maurtia Falls #006
WHEN: After Chauncy has ported back in.
WHAT: Canon updates can be a bitch.
WARNINGS: Self mutilation, old magic, blood for the blood gods. Dead dove do not eat.



The light is on in Maurtia Falls #6.

He hadn't been staring out the window, trying to study when or where Chauncy might be back. If he would be back. He certainly hadn't been checking his phone every hour on the hour for his name to appear on the network's list.

But the light is on in Maurtia Falls #6.

He exhales, slowly, and dares to look down at the network again. There, right there, in the list of names...
He's back.

David's quick to throw on his jacket, locking the door behind him as he makes his way next door. Furiously knocking because this can't wait. They need to discuss their future- and David needs to dissuade Chauncy from registering.

Comments

[notgood]

There are currently more important things on Chauncy's mind right now than their future and registering.

There is a need.

He doesn't know how to explain it, other than that he feels horrified at himself (for lying, for getting Takara killed, for lying even more, for not realizing puzzle pieces were falling into place and they were all aligned against him, for losing David—) and he needs to do something to get rid of this... feeling that coats him like oil.

He knows what he needs to do, to fix this. He needs to learn more, and there's no Norns here to teach him what to do. Even Thoth had lied, saying he would give him a spellbook, and then not- what an asshole.

So he'll figure it out on his own. He knows what he needs, he knows what he can do. Why does he need someone else to teach him, when he can figure things out on his own?

He's already out of his coat, his tie thrown over his shoulder and his sleeves rolled up when he hears knocking at the front door about the same time he finds a decently sharp enough and clean enough knife in the kitchen.

"Only this and nothing more..." He mutters to himself, and then yells at the visitor, tapping at his door: "I'm busy! Come by later!"

[setmatch]

“Chauncy, this is important. We need to talk!” David bangs on the door, raising his voice to shout through it. Theoretically speaking, he could take it off it’s hinges. Storm in. But he doesn’t want to do that.
“If this is about Chilton being my client, you’re acting far more childish than usual!”

[notgood]

He hears muffled yelling, but doesn't think— isn't thinking of who would be knocking. Just thinks about how they're annoying and ruining his concentration. He ignores them.

Candles from the bathroom borrowed and spread around the dining room table, Chauncy begins to press the knife into his fingertips. Easier to get the blood, to write in a way he needs if it's on his fingertips. Across the palm makes so much mess and wastes blood...

It hurts, but it hurts less than it did before. Adrenaline, he's sure, is a factor. He begins drawing runes, directly onto the table.

[setmatch]

It's strange. A pull. A sixth sense that something's wrong. The hairs on the back of his neck standing up, and he knows that he needs to speak with him, now. That something is wrong if he isn't answering the door.

Hopefully, Chauncy will forgive him.

He closes his eyes and exhales, concentrating his strength. This? Is going to hurt no matter what he does.
He pushes all of his weight into his bad leg, raises his right, and smashes his heel with all his divine strength next to the lock on the door.

The wood splinters easily enough. The hinges creak as the door parts, and he shoves inside.

"Chauncy? Chaunce?" He calls to him, moving inside.

[notgood]

Either it's not working, because he can't concentrate (who is still at his door?), or- or he doesn't have enough blood. That one's easily remedied.

While fingertips might be good for getting precision work done, unfortunately it seems he's going to need a lot more ink for his pen, so to speak. Which does mean palms next. Two quick cuts there, and the blood flow seems slower than it should be. Ridiculous. He needs to get this done quickly. Arms next then, lower arms...

He looks up, startled, when his door is kicked in. Doesn't leave his table, doesn't even stop himself from drawing, but he does call out: "Whoever just fucking broke my door, you're paying for it."

[setmatch]

He hears him, in the dining room or kitchen if the house layouts are the same. Footsteps heavy, his cane leading the way. Tap, tap, through the hallway towards him.
"Chauncy? Chauncy, we need to-"

When he rounds the corner, he stops dead in his tracks. Stares at the candles, the blood, the wounds on his arms and the knife in his hand.

He drops his cane to rush forward, trying to grab at his wrists.
"What are you doing?!"

[notgood]

Wait.

He recognizes that voice?

It processes at about the same speed as David entering the room, that yes, he's here. He's on the same version of Earth where David's alive, and here, and not possessed by Apep.

He does let go of the knife, letting it fall to the table as David grabs his wrists. Doesn't care about the pain that causes right now, actually.

"David! You're here! I forgot... I hadn't thought about how..."

It's a completely different demeanor than he last had, isn't it? He's trying to pull away from David's grip on his wrists now, while also trying to bring himself closer.

[setmatch]

"What did you do? Let me see." He tries to turn his hands over, tries to look at the injuries. He's not a healer. He barely knows enough first aid to treat him.

"Fuck- Fuck, Chauncy-" He's pulling off his jacket with one hand, furiously trying to staunch the bleeding on his forearms by trying to wrap the material around it.

[notgood]

"Stop it." Chauncy says, projecting authority into his voice, despite his eyes being wide and unfocused. He's trying to have a moment here, David, and you're throwing your jacket at him!

Once David stops fussing, he wraps his arms (whoops, still bleeding) around David, pulling him in for a hug.

"I missed you. We need to talk. But it's going to have to wait. I need to finish this spell..."

[setmatch]

To David's horror, Chauncy speaks, and David has to obey. It's the same feeling as when Hannah speaks to him, orders him about, and his hands fall to his side. Bloody arms wrap tight around him, smearing against the white of his shirt, staring down at Chauncy with abject horror on his face.

"Chauncy, don't do this. What- What spell? What's gotten into you?"

[notgood]

The moment is long, and he doesn't want to tear himself away from it. Would love to keep leaning against David, arms wrapped around him, now that he understands what happened. Now that he knows, none of it was really David's fault. He wants to tell him, wants to do so much right now.

But the compulsion remains.

He pulls away from David, eyebrows knit together, in concern, and returns to using his blood as paint to the canvas that is the dining room table.

"I'm trying to make a new spell. No one wanted to teach me, so I'll be my own teacher."

[setmatch]

His hands move to press soft against Chauncy's back, rubbing circles into his shoulder blades. Trying to keep him here, away from his bloody project.He doesn't kiss him, doesn't do anything to possibly offend him. And when he pulls away? David tries to catch his wrist, tries to keep him from returning.

"This... Chauncy, you're hurting yourself." Forbidden from interfering, he instead takes out his phone. Pulls up Magnus's name on the network.

I need your help. MF 006. Chauncy is in trouble.

magnus next?

[notgood]

"I need to get this done," Chauncy replies distractedly, drawing runes in various patterns. It almost seems in nonsensical ways, but David also doesn't know magic, so he might not be able to tell much.

[fehus]

Magnus is having a much more relaxed night, reading with his cousin and arguing (in good spirits) over the merits and pitfalls of magical realism in literature (ironic, given their after/lives, certainly). But it's not his first imPort crisis rodeo, and once his phone buzzes with that text, Magnus is up from the couch and grabbing a shield and a pack by the door. As he turns his seidr key in the front lock to his home, he texts back, one-handed.

omw

Magnus shortly emerges from the bathroom of a Chinese restaurant down the block from the Maurtia Falls government housing (why is it always bathrooms lately?). He abruptly remembers David's age, and fumbles another text, just in case. (It's only minutes later, but minutes count, in crises.)

**on my way. 2 minutes ETA

Two and a half minutes sees him outside the busted ass door of 006 and just as quickly knocking it aside as he lets himself in. "Hello? David? It's Magnus!"

[setmatch]

“Chauncy...” He sighs. Pushing forward, that will of his stubborn. He had said to stop fussing over him. But he never said anything about taking the knife from him.
“Give me your knife.” He orders, just in time to hear Magnus at the door.

“We’re in the dining room. In here.” He calls to him, holding out his hand for that bloody blade.

[notgood]

He hands over the knife, but only after he's handed it over does he realize:

"You called Magnus?"

Fuck. He... doesn't want him to see this? He knows it looks bad, and he'd been trying to be really normal for him. Someone Magnus could trust, and now here he is, drawing blood runes on a table...

[fehus]

Magnus doesn't freeze, when he comes into the dining room and sees the blood and the knife. There's always blood and knives, in Magnus' afterlife -- even here. People don't call him in a panic, unless there's blood and knives (or much worse).

He's more surprised to see Chauncy standing than bleeding from his arms and hands, looking sweaty and off around the eyes.

"Yeah, he called Magnus." Magnus drops his shield and his backpack, approaching the table. His eyes can't help but flicker over it, the mad scribblings there. It's like looking at a futhark alphabet soup -- correct symbols and shapes, but no meaning strung together, a nonsensical jumble. After seeing Chauncy isn't about to literally bleed out (even without his divine gifts, he's gotten very good at eyeballing wounds), his eyes flicker to David next (understandably discomforted), then back to his new patient, Chauncy. And his voice is easy, belying the rippling tension in his spine. (He can keep a pretty cool head, but this is his friend, looking like some kind of failed slasher villain victim). "David eats there, dude, gross. Can I see your hand -- ?" Gesturing to one bloody arm, but not quite making contact, Magnus turns his palms out to Chauncy.

[setmatch]

“He went home last night.” David says quietly, eyes turning down to the kitchen blade still bright with blood. Here? Here he is useless. He has no skill for magic, does not know how to heal. Can only stand by and watch with abject horror. But...
“Let Magnus treat you.” He orders of Chauncy before turning away to disappear into the kitchen.

The very least he can do is wash the blood off the knife. After that, he is lost.

[notgood]

He was going to resist Magnus' kindness. It'll just mean he's going to have to start over from the beginning once he's healed, but when David gives the order...

(Well, Chauncy critfailed that resist roll.)

Chauncy holds out his hand. Each fingertip is sliced, methodically. Next the palm is cut, also cleanly, as if he was in his present mind when he did this. The arms, less so, but not a complete mess. Except for the blood. That's a mess.

"You don't need to explain for me." He still has enough presence of mind to complain, so it can't be too bad, right?

[fehus]

Even with his attention focused on the wounds in front of him and processing the fact that Chauncy was ported back out (and in), Magnus can't help but think there's something strange about that exchange. Not seeing Chauncy resist an order, especially one spoken so authoritatively like that, is -- something especially weird. Possibly weirder than the bloody rune soup.

So his eyebrows knit, but he takes Chauncy's hand, bloodied and lacerated and all. "I dunno, man. Your shitty Nordic spin-art could use some explaining, honestly." When his eyes lock onto Chauncy's, there's something brighter and less human in them -- eking out calmness in a tangible way, a net trying to cast around him, pull him back somewhere stable. His voice has the same effect, a soft and compelling inquiry, rather than an accusation: "What were you trying to do?"

While he talks to Chauncy, he begins to glow summer-gold, keying via divinity into his life, his body. The cuts scored along Chauncy's arms and hands aren't too bad, deep but not too deep, as he guessed. What is more concerning is the state of exhaustion overlaying him, and the lack of focus in his mind; he feels like somebody who can't calm, can't navigate his own thoughts. It doesn't feel natural to his senses, at the same time -- like a curse or possession does. He adds, as his seidr flows down, begins to stitch the cuts on Chauncy's fingertips back together (a tickling sensation, like many ants, but warm and painless): "What were you doing before you got Ported back in...?"

[setmatch]

The water in the sink runs red, then pink, then clear. Hie wipes down the blade with a clean cloth, puts it back in the butcher’s block. He should do... something.
“Magnus, I’ll be right back. I have a first aid kit in my home.”

And he can make some tea that will hopefully soothe Chauncy’s ragged nerves, that will bring him down from whatever spell he’s on that’s driven him mad.

[notgood]

"It's not shitty Nordic spin-art," he interjects uselessly, petulantly even, but allows Magnus to continue. Magnus' eyes look... unusual. Nothing he can pinpoint exactly, other than having an otherworldliness to them. Maybe the color? Maybe something else...

The calmness is catchy. Chauncy's focusing on Magnus more, even if his eyes still dart to the table on occasion, and then once to David, as he leaves. Still, that's an overall win, isn't it?

"I was trying... to learn more spells. Magic. I can... I can do so much now, Magnus. More than— it was only a day here, but it's been a week for me, and I can do so much but..." And despite Magnus holding onto his hands, Chauncy tries to fling them up in frustration.

"But only when I'm told it."

He slumps again, continuing to let Magnus heal his hands. Defeated, in a way, even as he grimances through being healed. It itches and feels unusual, and it's even stranger to see his skin literally heal over before his eyes. But he saw something like this before, now. The Staff of the Shepard. It's a lot like that, now that he thinks of it...

"I want to learn more. I need to, or Eris wins, and David dies."

He glances to the door again, where David had left from.

"I don't think he knows what's going to happen to him."

Back to Magnus now, and just as aburptly:

"You're glowing?"