I can move mountains, I can work a miracle [OPEN]

[rassera]

WHO: The residents of Nonah 05 + YOU!
WHERE: Nonah, Residence #005
WHEN: All month long (January)
WHAT: Nonah 05 open log for January Shenanigans
WARNINGS: Obligatory Bull and Tetsuo warnings apply.


Starters will be appearing in the comments. If you want something specific from any one person (Kaneda rassera, Tetsuo iamtetsuo, Bull rideme and Ken amadaman), feel free to drop them a line and ask! Otherwise, feel free to add your own starters for the whole household or individual residents as you like.

Comments

[rideme]

[He went ahead. Just enough to where he can get the fire started while Tetsuo makes his slow approach. It helps that there's wood piled nearby, and that he's had practice. Lots of practice.]

[By the time Tetsuo gets outside, he's got the beginnings of the fire up and flickering. It's over the slowly growing flames he speaks again, direct, calm, orderly.]

You can do this. Drop it in. We bury it in coals.

We send a fucking message.

You can do this.

[iamtetsuo]

[He finally finds more anger within himself, pulling it from somewhere he thought was gone and using it to give himself that added push. His arm lifts up, feet moving forward - it's like he's watching himself from a distance, almost. Then, with a muttered curse, he flings the bag squarely into the center. It doesn't even matter if his aim's off initially. It goes precisely where he wants it to, adjusting course if necessary.

It's a shame he can't do that to Pan himself. Burn him alive and listen to him scream. Make him suffer as much as possible.

Yet, a dark voice in his mind suggests.]

[rideme]

[Bull doesn't look up until he gets the flames built higher. High enough and hot enough to make the bag and its contents curl and blacken into ash. He can't remember who he heard babbling about fire being "cleansing". But it seems appropriate right now.]

[Burn the evidence. Turn it to ash. Get fucking pissed.]

[When he looks up at Tetsuo, he's grinning -- the expression sharp, wicked.]

Now that's what we do with garbage in this house.

[iamtetsuo]

[Tetsuo stares right into the fire. Watching it grow. Watching that bag blacken and vanish into ashes. There's a flash in his mind back to a video he's rewatched so many times he's memorized; the similarity between that and what was left after Pan finished is eerily similar. Weird, how it's both fitting and maddening at once.]

What about garbage outside the house...

[rideme]

... We can set that on fire too.

[And he means it. Completely. If they find that asshole, they'll set him on fire too. Preferably burning him slowly. He deserves it.]

[iamtetsuo]

Good...

[How long will he stand here, watching this fire?


Depends. How long's it going to burn?]

[rideme]

[He'll stand out there with the kid as long as it takes. Until the fire burns down to embers if he has to.]

[It's fine with him.]

[iamtetsuo]

[So they do.

The fire blazes high, chasing away the cold and fear with a vengeful roar. Even as it grows dim, winter pressing harsh around them again, he waits. He shifts from one leg to another, starting to get antsy and stiff from standing still and exposed for so long in the cold. All the while his body won't move, eyes fixed dead on the fire's center until spots dance in his vision.

He waits until it's barely smoldering, mentally nudging the ashes into a flurry, casting them out onto the snow. Tetsuo digs, and continues digging, until he confirms for himself there is nothing left.]

[rideme]

[None of this strikes Bull as terribly bad behavior, or even anything awful -- so he lets it happen. Maybe it'll end up being some kind of closure. Maybe it'll be good, in the end. Who knows?]

[Bull doesn't mind sitting out here. He doesn't even mind the cold that much.]

[Then the digging starts, and he narrows his eye a bit.]

Careful you don't fling a coal on anything flammable.

[iamtetsuo]

Mh.

[Dismissive, distracted. He's busy. Digging is the most important part of this.]

[rideme]

... I'm serious.

[As he reaches out with a booted foot to stomp down on one such flying coal. Grinding it out before it catches.]

[iamtetsuo]

[YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. More digging around, what else is new?]

Then take care of it.

[rideme]

... Yeah, you're doing better, I see.

[Snippy child.]

[iamtetsuo]

Look... I'm not finished until I know it's gone!

[Is that a bit of pleading in his voice there, no, couldn't be. As.. he digs more.]

[rideme]

So, what? You want to pour oil all over the thing and let it burn all night?

It's gone, Tetsuo.

Magic -- if there was any of that crap -- doesn't like real fire.

[iamtetsuo]

[Ashes swirl, drift away. Tetsuo stands completely still, his eyes still locked on the embers. No new ashes follow them, at least for now.]

What's that even mean...

[rideme]

It means a bunch of people believe fire gets rid of magic. You burn something magical, it's gone.

And the magic with it.

Goes for people, too. Only way to get rid of it, sometimes.

[iamtetsuo]

People believe a lot of stuff.

[Tetsuo's shivering from cold, pulling Kaneda's coat tighter around him, but he neither resumes digging or makes a move to go back into the house. Ducking his head into the collar muffles his next muttered sentence.]

It doesn't mean it's true.

[rideme]

[He's doing this for your own good, kid.]

[At least, that's what he tells himself when he lifts his foot, and plants the heel of his boot into the ashes, grinding it down to powder. Thank fuck for durability power.]

[Nothing happens.]

Isn't it?

[iamtetsuo]

What're you-

[Tetsuo gets that question answered as Bull smashes his foot down right into the hottest part (as far as Tetsuo could tell). From the look on his face, that's the last thing he expected Bull to do.

Tetsuo looks up, catching Bull's eye with his own... then to the scattered ashes, argument gone.]

[rideme]

[He grinds his heel a few times for good measure. Honestly, this is going to hurt like hell in a minute -- but after all the lightning burns Hawke inflicted, oh well. He's had worse. Maybe it'll even leave a cool scar.]

[But he doesn't look away from Tetsuo. Even when he lifts his boot, displaying his intact foot.]

Look at that.

You did it.

[iamtetsuo]

[That's when he finally looks up, letting his head tilt back to watch the sky above them.

Pan's miles away, probably, or maybe he's just around the corner. Maybe he's in his stupid little camp in the stupid forest he should have burned down MONTHS ago when he'd been threatening to, playing his stupid little instrument. He's probably off having fun somewhere.

He always was.

Probably, he never got this message, and the idea strikes too late to film the destruction and send the proof. But for a moment here, it doesn't matter. They sent it anyway.

He did.

After a moment, his fists clench, and he looks back down, glancing to the inviting warmth of the house. It's not safe; nowhere is anymore, Pan proved that. But... it's not like he has anywhere else he could go.]

Yeah.

[rideme]

[That's when Bull moves his foot out of the coals -- finally. Dragging it on the ground to get the ashes off. He's still watching Tetsuo. Waiting for some kind of a reaction. Any kind.]

[He's not... entirely sure if that's a good one or not. But it's better than nothing.]

[So he holds out a hand. To shake. Maybe it'll be taken. If not... well. He tried. That counts for something, right?]

Good work.

[iamtetsuo]

[In a small miracle, Tetsuo actually does. It takes a moment of staring at that hand before he offers his own up. He's tempted to point out all he did was carry it, but ... it feels like a little more than that. Like he helped banish it or something.

It's enough to give him just the right amount of courage to reach out, tentatively offering up his own limp hand in a manner usually reserved for reaching out to scratch a snapping turtle's head.]

[rideme]

[Bull doesn't exactly hesitate -- he clasps that hand with his own, all scars and calluses and missing finger joints.]

[He's grinning at him down the beefy length of arm. All wicked and sharp and...]


[Proud.]

Don't forget how this feels. Not ever. A tiny ass victory is still victory.