we are running around till our hearts break down.

[nightmarist]

WHO: Ronan Lynch & assembled morons
WHERE: Well, it starts at Declan's apartment...
WHEN: February 3 - 9
WHAT: Ronan stages a highly unnecessary rescue mission.
WARNINGS: He's as suicidal as always.
NOTES: The starters are in the comments.

Comments

[nightmarist]

The idea of nanites failing on the other side gives Ronan a quiet surge of panic. But it isn't like before, when nanites were the only thing keeping his nightwash at bay. If nothing else, the past few months spent at home gave him the opportunity to heal. If his nanites fail now, at least, he won't instantly begin to decompose.

"I'm not going all this way just to die," Ronan assures Kavinsky.

There are a few more words he'd like to say, just in case. But it's hard to look at Kavinsky and remember what those words are supposed to be. And even if he could find them, he doesn't think he'd want to say them in front of Apollo.

Ronan turns to him, instead. "I'm getting in your head now. It's gonna feel weird. But you can leave most of the magic shit up to me. Just try to build up as much energy as you can."

He doesn't know how he did it last time and he doesn't know if it's possible to do it again. But between the ley line and the sun and his own damn self, there has to be a way to tear through reality again. If only to send a message.

Ronan takes a breath. Then there is no more Ronan. There's just the dream: a shimmer of fleeting, chaotic thoughts fighting for a form before they take their place in Apollo's mind.

[pillz]

"You're welcome, my li'l babies," says Kavinsky, who should never parent anyone, for sure. He returns Apollo's smile with a grin of his own, easy, softening the harsher lines of his narrow face. Apollo is correct. It's awful. That's fine; Kavinsky's always awful, and Apollo brings out the least awful awfulness in him, between the leering and everything else.

The grin doesn't quite stay intact when Ronan speaks, but Kavinsky is a champ! He doesn't quail, he doesn't frown or cry or grow pale. Number one, he is already Hella pale to begin with. He merely turns his head to look at the greywaren, and look at him hard, for a brief moment.

Ronan vanishes, some point between Kavinsky deciding to say nothing and then him lifting one shoulder instead, a surgically halved shrug.

"Don't suck any strange dicks while you're over there."

He steps back, because I guess he's an idiot and he doesn't know he should be better-armed and protected for this particular endeavor, so he didn't bring sunglasses or welding gear or anything. HIS EYES ARE JUST HIS hollow cokehead eyes, batting their fan-shaped lashes at Apollo as he waits expectantly for the real dad in this equation to take off. It's fine. The nanites will grow his corneas back.

[solarcharged]

Apollo grimaces, equal parts from Kavinsky's dick-sucking line and the unsettling feeling of Ronan slipping into his mind. A mind with a landscape built on feeling rather than thought, of lofty mountainous ideals and perhaps a few more shadowed valleys than to be expected of such a sunny, sunny man.

Maybe Ronan is used to sitting in the mindscapes of people with access to great power, but Apollo is decidedly not used to the sensation. Between those sunlit peaks and shadowy crevasses is a lot of... space. Vast, empty, open. Unguarded and free, but Apollo feels the fizzing, sparkling intrusion of something - someone - in that sunlit space like a deeply-burrowed itch. Apollo rolls his head on his shoulders, adjusting to the feeling, like trying to crack a tension in his neck that won't be cracked, with the thought: God, magic is weird.

"Okay," He says aloud, mostly for his own resolution, then nods fondly to Kavinsky. "See you later."

This being the act of getting as much power to the itch in his brain formerly known as Ronan Lynch enough raw power to break reality. Every single fibre in Apollo's entire being is brimming over with sunlight as it is - a superheated crackling energy between and within his cells - but that power is painfully finite. The bright well within him has a hard bottom and the only way to avoid hitting it is to get airborne. Only above the clouds, where the ozone is thin and the sunlight blisteringly strong, can they have any hope of sustaining the kind of power Ronan needs.

Which means taking off, with all the light and power Apollo can summon to help get Ronan going. Kavinsky takes a step back and Apollo does likewise in the opposite direction, putting some distance between them, before springing forth from the ground in a scorching fwoosh of light and heat, in an arrow-straight trail of photonic flame towards the sky.