riverviewlogs | April Catch-All

Sasuke's done an incredibly good job of avoiding his compatriots over the course of a mission he did not sign himself up for but nonetheless embarked on for the sole purpose of getting out of the city. Sure, he would've rather come alone. Sure, he would've rather not had to deal with Sans asking him to carry him or Suigetsu complaining about a lack of water (nostalgic) but he's good at putting his metaphorical blinders on.

So now here he is, staring at scarred trees and mentally sizing up how big the creature that caused such damage would need to be.

"..."

Quietly Sasuke moves forward, sidestepping Gladio in order to continue along the path of general ruin. Right, let's find it.

This entire morning has been a horrible experience. Despite his illness, he actually is fairly strong in lifting things, and Sans isn't all that heavy, anyway. He doesn't mind carrying him all the way here since he's essentially a zombie right now himself, stepping slowly after everyone and staring ahead. He's incredibly pale, something that hasn't changed at all even after taking his medication and any other remedies offered to him, and it sort of feels like a bomb was dropped inside of his own skull.

So, for once, he's silent. He lets Sans off without a word or even a comment on the drool, he places a hand back to his own forehead and finds a tree to lean against in the meantime. He has no idea what any of these means, and even if he did, he wouldn't be able to process it right now.

And just like that, his warnings fall on deaf ears. Gladiolus stands - er, kneels - wide eyed and stunned at the skeleton who seems to be the only one who gets it. He spins on his red heel, gravel scattering.

"Idiots! It's a behemoth!" He hisses, "...!" Can't they at least approach this with some semblance of strategy? But they're already pushing past - two of them at least, and Gladio's shoulders sag. "This thing isn't the kind of creature you wanna run into unprepared."

This mission sucks.

"Those claw marks, Sans - They look a hell of a lot like something from my world."

As he speaks, he strides over to the tree and runs a hand along the huge gouges in it. "If it's really a Behemoth, we might be in some trouble. They're massive, violent and strong."

So you can understand his sense of urgency, right? He can't get through to the two tho have gone ahead. There's a double-take to Eichi, but he's... completely done in. It's almost like he got drunk and then never knew sobriety again. This doesn't stop him from reaching out to yank Eichi by the arm.

"Eichi, could you have picked a worse place to nap? What are you --"

Whatever it was that he was about to say is drowned out by a strange, bubbling snarl and the sound of a wet inhale through wet teeth somewhere in the direction the ninjas are heading. It's large curling horns poke out from behind rock followed by a huge snarling face of a beast. It's hide is thick and vaguely purple, it's bristling mane standing up like the most punk of all beasts and it appears to be tearing voraciously into something. It's feathery, whatever it was.

Edited 2017-04-20 11:51 (UTC)

Suigetsu's pointed comment on his puns just wins one of Sans's assuredly aggravating grins as he shrugs, as it to say it can't really be helped. Can't stop, won't stop, don't know how. Without remarking on the decision of two of their party to go on ahead, Sans's attention strays back to Gladio as he reacts.

This mission is already hilarious.

And, uh, potentially going to land them all in hot water, but Sans isn't above finding his own way back, if you know what he means. These guys are a LOT tougher than the skeleton is, his bones a fragile white gleam under the sunshine he's only recently become acquainted with.

"Uh," Sans starts to say, as Gladio tries to rouse Eichi.

"Uhhhh," he repeats, a sound muffled under the rattling snarl that fills the air. Beads of condensated magic begin to gather on his skull. Ha ha. Oh... boy, that's.

Really big.

"Wow," Sans drones, "Uh, maybe you better let me look after our wilting daisy, yeah? Y'know, s'only fair." Do not expect him to confront that thing.

"Don't kill it, Sasuke," said immediately, with a short jaunt after him, ignoring literally everyone's warnings.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, though. The beast's massive head full of jagged teeth and warn-torn horns emerges and Suigetsu wonders how in the world a thing like that can hide, rather clinical in his assessment of it when he reaches Sasuke's side. He even turns his head away to look back at the others who seem to be shying from it, giving them a weary look.

"We found it, aren't you all supposed to be excited?" Excited isn't the word anyone would use. "It's kind of ugly, though."

...

Cupping his hands around his mouth. To yell at it.

"Oi, your breath's gross, eat some mint leaves—!"

Suigetsu's enough to alert it to their presence, interrupting its chocobo snack-time, its hairs bristling as hackles raise with its blood-caked snout. Not a great way for the others to be introduced to it, but the ninja are very obviously nonchalant about the thing, even as it straightens its thickly muscled legs and reaches its full and impressive height. The bellow only comes after it's swinging its colossal body around with a surprising swiftness, facing them all dead-on.

...

"Why's it missing all its hair like that? It looks mangey, doesn't it?"

Sasuke's contribution to strategy is more independent than team-based -- as usual -- as he activates the sharingan finally in honor of the beast slamming a heavy foot down against the boulder that had helped to shield it from view, stained claws leaving deep tracks in the surface of rock. Hm. The way he turns his head away in response to another exhalation of the disgusting breath Suigetsu's commented on signifies what he believes the creature's current threat level to be, even after his visual assessment.

"Seems like that's just a characteristic of the species. The hair is too even on both sides for it to be spotting or baldness." Such is his calm diagnosis, anyway, seemingly unaware of the behemoth's lumber forward to meet them. Suigetsu would be fine and he bears little concern for him in this situation. However... Eichi's weak and Sans is afraid; neither of them appear ready to face battle. Gladio's the unknown, but Sasuke doesn't see a benefit in leaving the monster to its devices and allowing it much more chance to attack any of them than it needs.

"I'm going," he announces suddenly, before seeming to quite literally vanish from sight in a high-speed blur that kicks up the leaves around where his feet once were. The silence only lasts one or two seconds before the behemoth lurches forward with another indignant and deafening roar, blood spraying against its pronounced chest from a sword's cut deep into the flesh and tendon of its left front leg. Enough to unsteady it, certainly, and the question of where Sasuke has gone after the assault is answered by a voice that waits to speak over an injured cry.

"Do you really want it alive?" He's standing on its head. He is absolutely on this thing's damn head, bloodied chokuto held at his side, and balanced assured by feet that are affixed in place with chakra no matter how much the behemoth should feel like rearing and thrashing.

"...?"

He's still trying to recover when Gladio yanks him away from his only support right now. His head throbs, and he stumbles a bit, catching onto the larger man's arm just as a snarl sounds from ahead. He lifts his chin enough to glance up, looking past the two near him and up closer to the ninjas. There's a beast beyond anything he thought real, horned and snarling and already being centered in on by Sasuke.

His reaction is more like Sans'. His face goes a little more pale than it already is, and his legs feel like they might give out at any second, so his grip on Gladio tightens. His eyes flick over to Sans shortly after, before he reaches for him with a free hand.

He can't form words right now, but they should probably leave it to Sasuke, right? He doesn't see why they shouldn't leave it to Sasuke.

"...What the hell?" Gladio couldn't even see Sasuke move. It wasn't a Warp, there's no ghostly after-image or thrown weapon for his body to chase after. He files this away for consideration when the party isn't in immediate danger, despite the fact that Sasuke has made it clear how outclassed the beast is. Looks like his concern was entirely misplaced, given that the beast roars and shakes it's massive head in a vain attempt to throw off the ninja.

All amazement aside, he's not leaving it to Sasuke.

Gladio tears himself away - throws back his arm and Eichi with it, shoving him back where he had previously sought to remove him. What was a sign of trouble is now their only available shelter. He's already charging forward at a full sprint, red soles of his boots kicking up dirt and gravel. Unlike Sasuke, Gladio charges like a bull but not carelessly - he yells at both Sans and Eichi from over his shoulder a warning.

"Stay here! We'll handle this!"

Stretching out one tattooed arm behind him, light fragments around his hand like a shattered mirror in reverse, assembling into the wide-bladed greatsword that's probably bigger than he is.

"Of course we kill it!" He yells as he catches up and passes Suigetsu on his right. "Don't tell me you think we're here to tame that thing!"

Okay. Oh. Kay! It's come to a FIGHT with, uh, about all the ease and speed Sans would expect of a bunch of humans faced with a 'monster'. Nice to know some things never change. It's with that judgmental thought that the skeleton intercepts Eichi before he might be knocked against the tree.

Eichi's shoulders are taken for a moment, turning his back towards the battle. Expecting that might not be enough, cold, thin phalanges turn him by the cheek to look at Sans. Which isn't to say the sight of an animated skeleton and his perpetual grin is particularly more pleasant a view than a roaring and embattled behemoth, but still.

"Ok buddy, this is really important," Sans rumbles, his hand settling back down to grasp his shoulder. "I'm gonna need you to pay close attention to what I'm about to ask you.

"Which would you rather eat," he says, "A brick or a matter baby?"

Just as he feels like he's holding onto something solid, he's pushed aside. His reach for Sans falters, and he would have crashed into the tree if it weren't for the skeleton interfering. His eyes stay glued on Gladio as he runs towards the beast, and he'd be looking at Suigetsu after those words, too, if it weren't for Sans guiding his gaze back at him and away from the fight.

None of this feels real. His hangover is still pounding in his head, his heart is beating even faster, too fast, and his fingers feel numb. His eyes are still wide, like a caught deer, and even if Sans' face is nothing like what he's used to, it's still a comfort compared to the beast behind them. He doesn't know how to explain that, but Sans has never had a feeling about him that seemed anything less than relaxed and comfortable. Friendly.

But his words finally reach Eichi's ears, and the idol blinks in clear confusion. He still looks about midway through some sort of heartbreak after being pushed, and he's just not getting it. His voice even strains a little as he asks the big question:

"What is... what's a matter baby?"

He sees it, pretty much the moment he directs Eichi's gaze right on him. The guy's probably feeling like he's been rattled, shook hard until he's resting just a few degrees outside of his own body, ain't he?

Not... that Sans is admitting he might know how that feels, or anything. He just recognizes the difficulty he's having in focusing, the minutely delayed reaction, the smothered responses. It's why he laughs so readily, a low chuckle rolling out of him like this is just another day. It's okay, see? S'all good, pal, just keep those peepers on ol' Sans and let the both of them ignore the coming carnage.

Just keeps his hands fixed to his small shoulders, even pats them, in an almost congratulatory fashion.

Tactile stimulation helps root people in where they are, reminds them that they're here, that this is happening.

"I dunno," chuckles Sans, winking an eye socket at Eichi, "What's the matter with you?"

And then, like the flutter of a camera shutter, the world blinks out into howling black before they've come back into the bright, sun-dappled forest and the breathless hush of all the fauna that have fled the sound of the behemoth's battle. Which... is actually pretty distant suddenly.

"Can't believe I got somebody with that one," Sans says, eye lights rolling towards the forest canopy, "Finally."

Hands at his shoulders keep him focused on Sans, but the pats bring him in little by little. Sans is trying to help. He can recognize that much, though he doesn't know what he's planning to say at all—

Until he says it. It doesn't make sense for another few seconds, and then it settles in, and while Eichi would normally laugh at a lame joke like that, right now he's just recovering. What was that going to help? He knows Sans is right before him, that they're in this forest, that there's fighting behind them, but he blinks slowly, takes a longer breath, and realizes that the sounds behind them sound much further now.

He glances back again, and in shock at how far they now are, he reaches one hand up to clap over one of Sans'. How...? He doesn't even think he can question this right now. His hands are ice cold and his hold is weak, he sank to his knees at some point during all of this, and his breaths are a lot more rapid than they had been before.

"I'm sorry." What else does he say? He doesn't know how Sans did that, but it seems even he can help out in some way while Eichi is left here trembling and useless. "But could you tell me when they're done?"

He doesn't want to watch.

Sans has had little choice but to drop with him, removing his free hand from Eichi's shoulder to cushion is descent to the forest floor. That's ok, no harm done. Sans shrouds himself in layers of comfortable clothing, extra cushioning between himself and the numerous hazards the world presents to a guy who has, and always will be, ridiculously fragile (even for his kind).

But, uh, this also ends up with Sans kinda... holding this guy's hands? Which is just kind of a thing that happens, between Sans letting go of his shoulders but Eichi failing to relinquish his phalanges.

This isn't his problem. He isn't his problem. None of this is his responsibility, and yet, heh heh. Uh. Go fig. Sans finds it a helluva lot more trouble than it's worth just ditching this kid. So he kneels here, trying not to speculate on the distant sounds of battle and what they might mean.

"Fuhgeddaboudit," he rumbles, "Y'know they got this. So lemme tell you a few things," he says, shrugging, "They're gonna sound real dumb, but just roll with it, OK?"

He doesn't wait for an answer.

"Breathe. C'mon, you ain't like me, so you just take a good, deep one, then let it out. And then have yourself another one."

I have to appear perfect.

Sans' words are so clear now, this far from the fighting, but his heart is already out of control and his breathing has to follow. His body is exhausted from all he's done to it, including all of that drinking, and as he listens and tries to take a slower breath, it's followed with a small coughing fit. Small and covered with his free hand, the other one curling a little more around Sans'.

Pathetic. He's pathetic. What kind of image is this? An Emperor doesn't cower and tremble. He doesn't leave his friends to fight something aggressive and turn away. He doesn't drop to his knees, unable to move. It feels like he can barely keep his hands lifted. Is this a matter of health, or fear? Either way, it's disgusting.

"I'm fine." After his coughing takes a break, he manages that, eyes focused on his loosely curled fist near his own mouth, and his other hand still holding Sans'. There's a roar or a growl or some noise of pain far away and Eichi's shoulders tense.

He repeats it again to himself, in his thoughts. I'm fine. It'll be okay. I can't appear like this. I'm fine.

"Sure you are," replies the skeleton, "You're breathing, aren't you?"

Although there's something about the way his supraorbital ridges shift that suggests Sans finds that coughing fit a little, shall we say, disconcerting. He's no expert on human biology, but it seems to him like Eichi's an especially frail example of his species. Pretty much a polar opposite to the rest of their ragtag party.

That's not to say Sans pities him. But seeing as Sans is closer to the ground, he's going to plant down right here and, hell, if that means Eichi's still hanging onto his hand, no big deal. But he does angle an eyelight up at him.

"You gonna keep looming like that? Siddown, buddy. You're makin' me anxious."

There, see? Make it about the skeleton being anxious, not about the guy being... well, whatever is running through his head right about now.

"Those guys? They're just gonna do their thing," he rumbles, giving a gesture with his other hand that doesn't exactly leave his knee so much as flick out phalanges a little. "Don't worry 'bout 'em, they'll be fine."

Even though Eichi coughs another few times, Sans' words are working. He sits, slowly, and closes his free hand near his mouth, silently praying that he doesn't keep up coughing. Soon enough, there will be blood, and he doesn't want to deal with that while people are around. So he takes a few slow breaths, and then finally releases the skeleton's hand. He's okay.

"They're incredibly strong, aren't they?" He wants to turn back and look, but he manages to restrain himself, eyes focusing on Sans instead. "This weak body of mine can't keep up." He coughs again, and wants to bring his knees close to his chest, but that would be such a vulnerable pose in company. He's fine, he's fine...

Probably for the best that, after his string of speculations, assurances, and just words to fill the silence, Sans doesn't actually press Eichi to speak. Him, he's a monster. No telling what a being like him might think of a human spitting up red fluids.

"Something like that," Sans replies, though his more honest assessment would've been less 'strong' and more 'violent', but he's still a little, uh. Shall we say... biased?

"Buddy," he adds, levelling both eye lights on him, "It'd take about two hundred of us to make up for maybe half of one of those guys. Especially the one with one arm. Uh. Sasuke," Sans amends, remembering the name. "Don't sweat it."

"I suppose you're right."

He coughs, again, and closes his eyes to attempt to steady his breathing. His words have been calmed down, and his posture is confident once again, but there's no hiding the way this has already upset his very fragile health. He'll be coughing for a little while now, some more violent than others, and eventually he pats around his pockets to try and find the medicine he'd brought along.

He remembers that he might have shoved that into a pack that someone else is holding, and glances over his shoulder back to the fight, far, far away from them now. He's not sure he can make out anything from here. At the very least, this seems much safer.

"Do you also avoid fighting, Sans-kun?" He notices that he'd been grouped in with him during all of this reassurance, and it seems odd to think that anyone would be on his level. Especially a skeleton...

Sans doesn't look at him, just looks up, leaning what of his weight isn't planted on the ground onto his arms, slouching here and apparently distracted by the golden shafts of afternoon sun slanting through the thick forest canopy.

He'd say it's peaceful here, but the noise of the ongoing battle in the distance is kinda ruining the effect. Anyway, the point is, he isn't staring at Eichi in concern at his coughing, because he's pretty sure the guy doesn't want the extra scrutiny. Ok, so he does look, just for a moment, long enough to see he's searching his pockets and coming up empty-handed.

"Yeah," he drones, "I hate exercise," adds the skeleton, grinning at Eichi. "'Sides, uh, I don't have all the cushioning you humans have.

"You forget somethin'?"

"Even if I wanted to exercise, it's difficult for someone like me. I suppose it will be the two of us on the sidelines, then."

He says it with his usual tone, but it's still clear that he's bothered. He only wants to exercise because he can't, he knows this. He should just accept his limits and sit down, but he hates that sort of thing. Right now, though, he truly appreciates how Sans is handling this. No nagging, no constant staring; it's all casual. Even the question about his search is acceptable in this way.

"Ah... It seems I left my medicine with someone else. It doesn't help much anymore, anyway, but I'd prefer to avoid going back to the hospital." Another couple of coughs, and he looks back to Sans. "It doesn't seem as if they'll take very long, though. Fufu, would you continue to look after me if I collapse? I wanted to continue to help you by carrying you once we move on, but it seems I won't be able to, like this."

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"Eeeehh?! What do you mean by that, Gladio?!" More shouting that riles the Behemoth up, but Suigetsu's agape, offended, and irritated. "You're the one who told me we were gonna tame it!"

A click of his teeth, snapping them together with a sharp tch. He should've figured this would happen, wanting to call them all out on being hypocrites where the game of 'I Never' is concerned; they're off to kill an animal right now, right in front of him. Yet Suigetsu doesn't deceive himself here. There's no goddamn way he needs to intervene with Sasuke standing on its hulking head and he hasn't had the opportunity to stick around to watch Gladio fight, so he takes his time in following the two combatants. Mostly admiring the appearance of that stellar greatsword, almost preoccupied enough to forget about Sans and Eichi.

Suigetsu turns to shoot a look over his shoulder at their retreat, raising a hand to rub at the back of his head. They're really going so soon? Eichi didn't even get to have his heart attack, something he counts as a pity while heaving a sigh at them.

"We'll meet up with you guys in a bit. These two just wanna show off, but I'll make sure they don't kill it. Maybe. If I make it over there in time. Which is doubtful." With the most hollow promise made to the more monster-sensitive Sans, Suigetsu whips away from them with a low giggle of a laugh, rocks onto the balls of his feet, and makes the leap into the fray.

Fighting without a sword feels like fighting without a limb, but it's been a couple of years since he lost Kubikiribouchou to the war — a shame that leaves him far from helpless, however, eyes tracking the Behemoth that's now trying in vain to buck Sasuke off of the crest of its skull and avoid Gladio's greatsword with a great swing of its own. Those talon-like claws of the Behemoth's would be terrifying weapons to avoid in anyone else's opinion, the swipe making plants bend away with the followthrough of wind such a massive motion stirs up, but to Suigetsu they don't even tickle.

Distractions are his strong suit, as is holding things at bay while Sasuke deals with them more promptly, but in an attempt to dissuade the Behemoth from bothering his teammates, he tears past Gladio with the minimal shake of a tree branch. And grabs one of the claws coming down in a powerful strike, swinging onto its forearm, bringing it immediately into a bow with one simple point of a devastating finger at the soft flesh and crucial vein of its right front leg.

Bang.

Its jaw and injured chest slam into the dirt, dry leaves, and moss, upheaving other critters in the vicinity with the sudden vibration. Suigetsu rides it down with a huff and glances up to Sasuke with what looks to be a wordless nod, before turning his head to Gladio.

"Alright, she's wide open!" Suigetsu's eye narrows with his shout, motioning to a now-growling, slowly recovering beast, "Give this ugly face your best shot, Gladio, if you wanna kill it so bad!"

Edited 2017-05-02 21:23 (UTC)

The materialization of a broadsword in flecks of crystalline light is of greater interest to unnaturally keen eyes than even the beast below him is, one whose enraged cries and wild thrashes garner no response from a particularly unsympathetic ninja. To him, this is just one more living thing that's become a dangerous inconvenience for others, and thus it needs to be removed. That much has been made clear, and while he was willing to defer to the loud wishes of his teammates, he's at least glad to know that this won't be made more complicated than it has to be.

So the end result is settled. What isn't settled is how they'll get there.

That red stare goes from Gladio to Suigetsu and he understands the look he's given immediately, shifting right back to Gladio again. Right. Let's see what he's got.

When the behemoth crashes into the earth Sasuke finally moves back and out of the potential firing line, taking several steps further along its spine with a shallow slice of his sword into flesh. This time it serves another purpose, with the tip of that chokuto stabbed down into thick skin just to stream a low-level current throughout the beast's massive body to keep it still.

Gladio's charge loses steam as his eyes grow wide and that determined scowl relaxes into genuine amazement. Several reasons why the Shield is diverted from his goal - all of them revolving around the pair of them. First, there's the casual ease of their strikes, the lightness of their movements that seem to defy gravity and glide through the terrain as if their bones were hollow and impossibly unbreakable things. The calm or knowing stare in the wake of their attacks, confident and completely at ease with what would have otherwise been a daring fight.

The beast is struggling, but held at bay by some invisible force or effect, twinging and twitching. Whatever Sasuke was doing to that Behemoth, it was hugely effective.

Gladio finds himself within easy striking distance, squaring off to a position where he could easily throw his weight into his greatsword to hack off the massive head of the beast. But he doesn't. He holds his breath, never once ever considering standing so close to something like this for this long with it fully aware of his presence and yet unable to move. Some strange guilt twists in his gut, like he can see himself twisting in the bonds of some Niff and forced to endure the indignity of being toyed with and while he doesn't compare the creature to a human in any way, it just doesn't sit well with him.

"What are you waiting for?" Kill it.

But no, they're looking at him, aren't they - Suigetsu even calls for him to deliver the final blow and Gladio stares back at him hard for it. All the fight has been taken out of the beast and he's left with expectant looks and the foolishness of being given the task of ending it's suffering. With help. As if he were a child on his first hunt.

"This ain't a game so quit playing around." Gladio raises his weapon from his shoulder and lets it disappear into the air, his pride standing solidly and resolutely in the way of him delivering the killing blow. He misses out on acquiring some choice cuts of the beast as a result of turning away, but the sacrifice is worth it. The price to his pride is too steep, particularly after witnessing the staggering differential of power between himself and the two shinobi.

Gladio tries and fails to hide his disappointment by turning away to search for tracks, can practically feel that scorecard reading all D's for his failure to participate. His tone is low, but sharpens into a shouting rebuke as he goes.

"...I'm gonna look for the flock that Chocobo belonged to. Just put it out of it's misery already!"

Clearing the Behemoth's gigantic front leg to avoid even a tiny dose of that electrical current, feet finding grass beneath its great head. What he finds when Gladio approaches isn't a praise-worthy strike, though, rather some kind of sentiment he can't quite grasp. It's the backpedal that slaps a look of confusion onto a fairly honest face, eyebrows raising as he's address and—

"Playing around?"

Suigetsu looks over his shoulder at the paralyzed Behemoth, wondering if that's what they're doing. As far as he can tell, they'vfe subdued and are using it for a skill test, something that can give them the information they desire without having to risk much. To be construed as 'playing around'...

He raises his chin to look at Sasuke after the disappointed Gladio flees the area, lips a firm line.

"What, was he scared or something?" Asked obtusely, sandals grinding into loose dirt and dry leaves as he prepares a jump that takes him directly to Sasuke's side with a light step and a test of the electrified flesh.

Subdermal. Should be alright.

"Guess we'll have to wait."

April Catch-All

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2/2; fell asleep trying to finish this SORRY hahaha

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