kiaroscuro

[kiaroscuro]

Warnings: descriptions of violence, major character death

Rating: Mature

Main Pairing: Ren Amamiya / Arsene

Main Tags: post-canon, zombie au, angst, hurt / comfort, road trips

Warning: the end!

· · ─────── =^.^= ─────── · ·

Three days later finds Ren laying on his back in the observatory on the highest floor of the Sunshine 60 skyscraper, enjoying both the view and the little green the artificial grass provided. Arsene is sitting next to him, clad in more comfortable-looking clothes than his battle gear, paging through a booklet one of Futaba's lackeys had given them. Mitsuhiko, or something. After a whirlwind of a first day, being over-run by much more people he knew than expected -- along with his remaining thieves, some of his confidantes had made it to the Sunshine City: Takemi, Iwai and Kaoru, Yoshida and Lala-san. And Sojiro, thankfully, who'd also given Ren a bear hug once they met.

(If he was crying, then no-one but the two of them needed to know.)

Apparently Sae and Hifumi were holed up in another community with a handful of acquaintances that Futaba's made, their group having split apart or been forced to. The Sunshine City has established something of a working electrical grid with solar panels and a handful of workers and engineers who knew their way around, aided by a few shadows. The rooftops and most of the space between the buildings has been converted into gardens, some floors had been turned into pens for chickens and other poultry, and even an in-door aquarium has become a breeding ground for schools of fish. There were dedicated people who maintained them to provide food. It was quite the contrast to Ren's usual hunter-gatherer approach, but he couldn't exactly go hunting for fowl in the city, so he supposed it made sense.

Keeping everyone and everything in order was no easy task, though, considering that the settlement had something close to six hundred people of all shapes and sizes -- an incredible number. Apparently Sojiro had been shoehorned into a position of power in the beginning, up until Toshiro Kasukabe and Erina -- Eri Natsuhara -- arrived with members of the actual Tokyo MPD, who quickly created order amongst Futaba's well-intended chaos gremlin survival mode Sunshine City's had going. His thieves had been able to wrangle order into the first month of the apocalypse, and Inspector Megure of the MPD seemed to mostly defer to the thieves' expertise when it came to the shadow-related part of the settlement. Futaba had ended up working with the local engineers who'd barricaded themselves in, found once they arrived, setting up the power grid while the other Thieves had continued to fan out and support nearby settlements.

(Interesting for Ren was the settlement Sae Niijima was stuck in, all the way in Ekoda with quite a few other familiar faces, and Sunshine City and Ekoda's main settlement were officially allied, Makoto and Yusuke commuting between the two with resources every month or so.)

Ren's already met the (self-)appointed leaders of the settlement: next to Juzo Megure, Ninzaburo Shiroatori and Miwako Sato from the police had stepped up. Asahise Kato along with Takemi as the medical representative, Riko Fujimoto, Haru and Kuki-Hime as representatives of the workers. Toranosuke Yoshida and Toshiro Kasukabe were chosen for the politicians, with Erina, Junpei Iori, Yatagarasu and Futaba as the voices of the regular people, human and shadow alike. Sojiro, to Ren's amusement, bowed out of a leadership role the second other people became available, though he apparently sometimes crashes into the meetings to support the workers.  

Out of those people Junpei Iori stands out as another persona user, of Hermes Trismegistus, who is a baseball coach for a little league and who, more importantly, managed to set up Futaba with his navigator friend Yamagishi, all the way in Tatsumi Port Island in the north. The two navigators could talk with some difficulty over a relay channel, and Yamagishi was their only intel on what was going on in the northern part of the country, though some of the other emergent persona users inside Tokyo were navigators as well, all of them in some form of contact. They had no idea about the south, until Ren started to relay what he could about the land and the people, and going over a map revealed that the influence of nature on -everything sunk exponentially the closer one was to Tokyo. They didn't know if this meant that Tokyo was the epicenter or not, but it was good to know.

More importantly: Juzo Megure was Zenkichi's contact in the city, and the older inspector had hugged Ren once he'd heard that Zenkichi was doing well. Which also lead them to today's agenda:

With a sigh, Ren stood up from his resting place, brushing over his lighting scar, the skin feeling numb from whatever salve Takemi made him apply. It was supposed to soften down the harsh edges, smooth out the pattern. "Are you ready, pigeon?" Ren asks, Arsene falling into line next to him. Hm? He asks, even while they make their way down from the observatory to the communications office a few floors below. Pongo greets them, the dalmatian-shaped shadow one of the heads behind the noise-based morse communication before he let Futaba take over, many other dog-shaped shadows acting as relay and messengers akin to the angels of the Choir.

Fitted to their electrical grid is Arsene's little handheld radio, merrily blinking away. They'd long lost the frequency this far away from the Bay, though Necronomicon had promised that it'd try and boost the signal, so here they were; later Megure, Shiratori and Futaba would join them, but for now Arsene was trying to fine-tune the thing. Pongo stayed next to them, head tilted in interest, and Ren really had to keep himself in check before he did something as disrespectful as pet the shadow's head. Or boop the shadow's nose. Pongo eyes him, expression deadpan.

"You would not be the first to simply touch me," he says. "I look enough like a common dog that it keeps happening."

"I'm sorry," Ren flushes. Pongo tilts his head, but his tail's wagging, so Ren seems forgiven. The others arrive shortly after, crowding around Arsene while he turns the dial to reach get rid of the noise. They start talking, and then Ayumi Yoshida enters the room with furrowed brows.

"Ai-chan's sent a message from Ekoda--" she says, and suddenly everyone's attention is on her, even Arsene's. "Yusuke-kun's requested to go back because they've been getting more fire-affinity infected again, and Naoto-kun's uncertain if they'll manage on their own. Ai-chan also says that Professor Agasa wants to send over some prototypes for the reworked stunners."

(No relation to his Sun, despite their shared surname.)

"...stunners?" Ren asks, interested, shelving everything else for later.

Ayumi-san nods; she's only a few years younger than him, two or three, maybe. "Yeah. Amamiya-kun, was it? Professor Agasa and Ai-chan are working on weapons that are effective against the infected shadows specifically -- he's designed a watch that's able to dispense narcolepsy-inducing needles, and the design's started to be updated over the past few months." She shows her own watch, a rather bulky thing. "They saved our lives in the past, so the professor started refining them once everything calmed down some. Now they work more like short-term stunners. " She smiles, grimly. "Shooting at a mutated with a dart doesn't alert other nearby ones, so it's objectively safer. The watch is one of a handful of power-enhancing accessories of his."

Ren stares, but it is Arsene that speaks up next, voice reluctant, hand dragging over the casing of the handheld radio. "...if the settlement in Ekoda has any shadows with access to attacks such a Dream Needle --" He flexes his own wings, ready to continue, when the radio static clears:

>>Hello?<<

Everyone falls silent, even Ayumi-san crowding into the room and closing the door, eyes fixed on the radio like a hungry cat. Arsene turns back to it with a frown. I accidentally turned the dial, this shouldn't be the Tsu frequency, he murmurs. Ren shrugs. The voice is still overlaid by static, but it could be Cassandra. "This is Ren and Arsene; we've arrived safely in Tokyo, and I've made contact with Inspector Megure."

>>Tokyo--!<< The voice balks. It falls silent for a moment, before continuing. >>...this is Richard Atkins of the OH:MU cross-communication and surveillance channel. We are a joint UN-NATO operation intent on helping the people of Japan. Do you copy? I repeat: the world is here to help you, Japan. We are here, do you copy?<<

First <<

[kiaroscuro]

Warnings: descriptions of violence, major character death

Rating: Mature

Main Pairing: Ren Amamiya / Arsene

Main Tags: post-canon, zombie au, angst, hurt / comfort, road trips

Warning: mentioned MCD (not only Mona this time!)

· · ─────── =^.^= ─────── · ·

Tokyo as a whole is just so full of people -- Ren and Arsene take to the train tracks again, but now that they're past the danger-zone of random flash-floods, everywhere they look, there's people: little communities living side by side, some turning into larger settlements, some forming loose alliances with each other. It's fascinating, to see how many survivors there are just wandering between wards and districts as well, when Ren's been counting them in the single digits for most of their travels before they reached some invisible-seeming border near Shizuoka, and the population started to pick up again.

Ren thinks that the number of people could easily reach Nagoya's settlement, or whatever numbers Tsu-Aki has now, and they're just barely halfway-through Bunkyo. It seems to be a fine line they're walking, between being large groups of the living and large groups of the mutated. The landscape of Tokyo is both familiar and not, many of the buildings broken apart or overrun by nature, green flashing between all of the urban areas, sometimes making Ren gag with the phantom-memory of Takuto. They'd started their journey at dawn with hope in their hearts, and by the time they finally spied the Sunshine 60 skyscraper from Toshima station, it's past noon and Ren's got his gun drawn because around every corner, the meandering footfalls of infected can be heard. They grabbed a pamphlet with information about their goal before continuing onwards, Arsene leafing through it between calmer moments.

It's as nerve-wracking as his days near Osaka had been, where the dead had outnumbered the living by too much to count, and both he and Arsene are tense, this close to their goal. They take out large clusters of mutated on their path, until they start reaching barricades and stakes that are clearly man-made. Ren eyes them suspiciously, noticing the faint agi spells that made the fires flicker on some of them, and carefully walks past them with Arsene, more alert for area-of-effect spells now. Not even the angels had warded their settlement like this...

Though, it is possible that we've simply missed the wards due to how quickly we were noticed. These support spells stretch much further.

Mh. Ren agrees, nimbly stepping around debris that seemed to be placed there on purpose. They're quickly approaching the skyscraper, dodging around around lingering spells and obstacles as if they were in a palace, and it doesn't take them that much longer before they arrive around a corner after which seems to be a stone wall, revealing itself as molten rock and metal fused together, with chicken wire secured on top, about twice as high as Ren. Spikes out of wood and metal both are placed before the wall, and there's a few spaces that might be lookout posts, and Ren has to take a step back to take in the whole structure that turned Sunshine City into a palace.

"...god," Ren exhales, suddenly and inexplicably longing for their little hotel room back in Nagatsugawa. The grip on his handgun tightens, and they glance at each other.

A white flag might just be a good idea, Arsene surmises, glancing down at himself; he's threatening-looking on the best of days, and today's not one of those. "Maybe." Ren agrees. "We have some leftover bandages, right?"

"Oui," Arsene murmurs, quickly magicking them out of one of their shoulder-bags, before he frowns and glances around for something stick-like. They find something that looks like a discarded arrow, quickly turning it into a makeshift flag, before Arsene sticks it out as far around the corner as he can. When nothing fires at it, they carefully step around as well, walking over to one of the little lookouts while constantly waving the bandages. Ren tries calling out, not too loudly, and then--

a head pops out of the lookout, pale lilac hair and a red eye the only thing Ren can make out. "Hello!" The stranger calls out, a shotgun dangling between her fingers as she leans further forward. That's as clear a warning as Ren's ever seen. Arsene frowns, next to him. "Are you guys friendly?"

"Yeah!" Ren calls back. "We're looking for-- Futaba Sakura! We're family! Is she with you?"

She blinks, clearly taken aback, before eyeing them over anew. "...right. What're your names, and more importantly: are you wounded?"

"Amamiya Ren and Arsene Lupin, and we art not! Only superficial scratches!"

She eyes them over, frowning, and Ren knows they look a sight. "...are you a shadow or a persona? And my name's -Erina, by the way," Erina introduced herself, pausing oddly over her name.

"A persona!" Arsene calls back, and Erina's shoulders slump in relief. She tells them that they have follow the barricade around the next corner where one of the entrances is located and they do after her hair disappears from the lookout. Once by the door, they're led through what seems to be a repurposed container unit with multiple windows. A voice tells them to "Wait there!" Some kind of shadow going by Arsene's bristling feathers, and then Erina slips into the room. She's wearing something that looks like it might be a cosplay military coat, fingerless gloves, a red skirt and combat boots rounding out her outfit, looking every inch a fighter. She's smiling at them, thinly.

"Let the mu shuwuu and fuu-ki run a diagnostic and seal your skills for now," she says, and Ren tenses up because that would leave them effectively defenseless.

"Thou've had bad experiences in the past?" Arsene asks, the faint green glow of a navigator-type spell falling over him (and Ren, to a lesser extent). It makes all of the wounds that Arsene's sustained more visible for a blinding moment.

"You could say that," Erina says, dryly. She shifts around, and Ren notices that the eye he assumed hidden by her hair simply... wasn't. "A woman, her child and a barong had arrived a few weeks ago; they claimed to only be 'scratched' and we let them in--"

(Ren flinches.)

"-- needless to say, we lost three people and a shadow that day; one of our best nurses at that." Erina finishes.

He doesn't object to them sealing their abilities anymore.

Once that's over and done with, they're allowed out of the container and into the Sunshine City proper: three skyscrapers with ---

Ren barely has any time to inspect everything, though, because a familiar presence settles at the back of his mind, a soft "Welcome back, leader-unit," echoing through Arsene and him before someone tackles him. Instincts snap into place, and Ren hugs back Futaba even while she's burrowing into his neck with a hiccoughing cry of "Ren!"

"Oh," Ren says, overwhelmed, before he blinks back tears and starts to buckle, strength suddenly leaving him. Necronomicon's tentacles curl around his middle and soften his fall into a controlled sink to the ground-- right, that was Necronomicon's voice earlier--

Arsene's moving towards other approaching figures, four of them, out-of-focus to his blurry vision but distinctly familiar, and they're surrounding the persona and touching him before they double in numbers, and Ren's awash with the phantom-feeling of the hugs of his team while everyone somehow starts piling around him and Arsene.

He's crying now, earnest, a tension leaving him that's been with him ever since the whole world went up in flames, and he hugs Futaba back even fiercer and squeezes his eyes shut when he feels Ryuji's hands on his shoulder and Haru's comforting weight at his back. "...we're back," Ren murmurs, amazed.

"You-- you made it-!" Futaba wails. "I can't believe you, you reckless idiot--"

"Yeah," Ren says, softly. He gets tugged to the side and against Yusuke, and now Makoto's hand is on his shoulder, and Futaba's not let go of him. Ren is buoyed in joy, happy, when he catches a snippet of conversation from the persona, still keyed into their broadband:

--Carm en?

She'sgo ne, mate. Sacri ficedhe rs elf.

__

Its flavor is distinctly alien because Necronomicon isn't filtering their conversation properly, having forgotten that it had greeted Ren earlier, the mental 'language' much more melodious than one would assume. Ren's used to it after a whole year of thieving, though, and he freezes up, softly detangling himself from Futaba.

"...where's Ann?" He asks, grief already settling into his bones.

The others are silent for a heart-rending moment. "Dead," Makoto says, eyes squeezed shut as if in pain. Ren stares at her in disbelief. "Before-- before we had the barricades... in the beginning. A big group of survivors..." She trails off. Yusuke picks up:

"If it weren't for Panther, myself and twenty-one people would be dead. Carmen erected a wall of flames that burned for hours, both of them on the other side of the conflict." He takes a rattling breath. "...in the end, they burned themselves out, along with over fifty infected. She always believed you would reach us in the end." Yusuke finishes with, and Ren stares, ears ringing, a hand coming up to his collar unconsciously as he looks over to Arsene, whose own grief is trailing down in golden streaks over his mask. Goemon and Kidd have their eyes averted, while Milady is still, and even Necronomicon's dropped lower.

"Oh," Ren says, at a loss for words. Haru sees where he's touching, but even before she can say anything, Ren nods. "Morgana, too. He... his body was so small. It couldn't fight the fever. I-- held him, and then we buried him, and--" Grief chokes up his words. "My parents didn't even-- they didn't even make it out of our hometown, and. And-- I didn't know if we could make it, but sometimes. It was the only thing keeping me going, and I--" he stops, unable to continue as they hug him tighter, the persona also coming closer to the pile, and Ren lets his grief and terror over the past half-year wash over him, tries to forget that a year ago at roughly this time he'd been spending his last few months in Tokyo before leaving for Hasetsu, his friends having just gotten him out of juvie.

"You're-- here now," Futaba says, voice teary. "We're here, you're here, we're all-- all together now, so everything's going to be-- okay. Just you see, Joker, everything's gonna be okay."

First << >> Epiloge

[kiaroscuro]

Warnings: descriptions of violence, major character death

Rating: Mature

Main Pairing: Ren Amamiya / Arsene

Main Tags: post-canon, zombie au, angst, hurt / comfort, road trips

Warning: allusions to WWII

· · ─────── =^.^= ─────── · ·

Chiyoda -- more specifically, the Otemachi district -- was, indeed, full of people, small clusters surrounding a central mall, most of the people (human and shadow!) using the altitude of the apartment blocks to create something resembling a floating city roughly two stories off the grounds. Ren stares in wonder. It seems as if the rising tide forced everyone to think vertically, Arsene thrummed, wings twitching in a way that made Ren shiver with the need to explore upside as well. They'd been very ground-bound because of the high number of infected flying shadows in the country, and Arsene hadn't been able to really stretch his wings for long periods out of fear of being discovered -- but the ruins of Tokyo, more than any other place save Tsu, maybe -- had such a feeling of safety that Ren found himself on edge by how... peaceful it seemed.

He didn't want this to turn into a repeat of Nagoya (Takuto had been apprehended, he'd heard so on the radio, and his main cultist as well, and the people were slowly recovering, but--)

An angel fluttered down, one of the sentries, and it eyed them. It looked unlike the bondage-wearing women Ren was accustomed to, a golden mask hiding its face and shrouded in what Ren considered to be proper angel attire, namely a toga-like dress. "Hello, strangers. Whenceforth did you come?"

"...from Hasetsu, in the south. Past Osaka." Ren mumbled, suddenly wrongfooted. Even while trekking to Tokyo, they'd kept on the outskirts of any cities and mostly only entered to restock, and everywhere they met people it was much more agricultural. This was-- kind of the opposite, and Ren felt himself uncertain in the face of so much... civilization.

The angel might've raised a brow. "That is quite far away. It must've been dangerous. You art fortunate, for having braved the path."

"Thank you. I think," Ren said, and startled when he noticed that water was seeping above ground. Arsene made a dismayed noise next to him, wings flexing. Ren watched it, before turning a wry expression at their sentry. "...Using height to build makes much more sense all of a sudden." He states.

The angel chuckles and motions for them to climb upwards before flying to the first awing. Arsene hums and scoops Ren up, because that wasn't something to be embarrassed about. What was embarrassing was that the persona held onto his bridal carry even when reaching the angel, and Ren huffs and accepts that that was his situation right now. The angel doesn't comment on Ren's state of being. "Yes. The larger conglomerations close to the bay noticed the rising tides and split apart, and the tide has brought the people of Tokyo closer. This has been a host of my kin, before we opened it for the humans and other shadows."

Not a sentry, then. Ren eyes the structures with renewed interest, and he can see where walkways and ladders had been installed for non-avian people. "The tide still rises and lowers at the mercy of Nature across most of the city; only the north-west has dry land."

"We'd not noticed the shift of water until reaching Minato," Arsene agrees, finally deigning to set Ren down. Ren made a face at him, but brushed their hands together in thanks. Pulley systems connected different balconies together, ropes and strategic ladders making everything climbable. People were glancing warily in Ren's direction, most of them hiding away, mostly eyeing his weaponry in distrust. "We're looking for family from Jongen. Do ye happen to have any survivors from there?"

"Do forgive them, we've a peaceful settlement. Only the patrols are allowed weaponry or active spells. Chiyoda as a whole tries to be neutral because it is the current center of Tokyo. To answer thine question: we do not, anymore, though a persona user hath passed through with her family before the humans settled. Lady Futaba and Necronomicon, is it them thou looketh for?"

Ren's heart is beating in his ears. "Yeah, she's my-- little sister. Do you know where they went?" Arsene puts his hand on Ren's shoulder. "And- who was with them?"

The angel nods. "Coming up straight from Kanda, I believe. Our chief of communication might know more."

--

The higher they made their way, the more important the people became, Ren's had the feeling. Like an angelic choir, Arsene added. This 'chief of communication' was an old and ornery lady, badges on her shoulder displaying some military rank, old and scuffed. She was foreign, European-looking, and they entered her office through an open window as if it was a door.

"Hullo," the lady said, accent thick on her tongue. Arsene froze upon seeing her, mask flushing, and Ren raised a brow at how the persona snapped to attention all of a sudden. The walls were littered with decryptions of ciphers and codes, a framed morse table the center-point.

Ren bowed, his persona's strange reaction making him wary. "Good day," he murmured, feeling strangely underdressed in his gear. He'd noticed it earlier, with the angel as well, but Ren's survival-based getup looked right out of place in the larger settlement where most of the people were civilians. The lady laughs, and the shift in her position reveals the edges of a washed-out tattoo on her forearm. Ren feels bile raise in a throat that's not his, and he glances sharply over to Arsene, who's still rigid. The angel has stayed a step behind, but now steps forward.

"This is Erika Ogawa. She set into motion our current communication system across the greater Chiyoda area."

"Thank you, dear," Ogawa-san says. "But I can introduce myself." She smiles at them. "My late husband used to be a naval officer, and I'd always been interested in his work. He left me behind twenty years ago, but his lessons on morse and short-range radio have stayed with me." She says. "Would you like some tea?"

Ren nods, cautiously. Arsene makes an almost-silent chirruping noise while the angel excuses itself to bring them refreshments, and it's a sound of distress. Ren stares at him. Pigeon?

"...ah. I hadn't expected a shadow to recognize this, but it seems you do. Sit, sit, the both of you."

Ren has to tug Arsene down, who still looks silently ashamed of something, before focussing back on the woman. "I was thirteen when I was smuggled out of the camp, and twenty when I married my late husband," she says, gently. Ren stares at her, finally catching on, and he shudders. Japan wouldn't exactly have been his first choice of country to flee to in the forties. "He was US military, and ended up stationed in Vietnam, so I did what every bride would do: I disguised myself and followed him, because one war had already taken my family, I wouldn't let another do the same. Thankfully I did; I saved his life and he gave me five wonderful decades of life together, as well as six children!"

Ren stares at her, eyes roving to the military acolades. She follows his gaze. "Most of these belonged to my husband, though a few of them are mine from the turn of the century. Were you in the War?" She asks, softly, addressing the persona. Arsene shudders, rigid shoulders finally curving in some ease.

"The first. My stories end shortly before the second, but the echo of history-- lingers. Pardon me."

"You poor thing," Ogawa-san says, voice full of sympathy. Arsene flushes, wings fanning slightly.

"Ah, no. I am not-- my origin lies in fiction, it is not as if I--" he flounders, and Ren -- heavy topic notwithstanding -- frowns at the denial. It was coming close to being a denial of personhood, and Ren couldn't have that. Especially because they'd had this discussion before.

"Arsene, if you remember living through it, you lived through it." Ren hissed, and Ogawa-san nodded.

"Your young man is correct," she says softly, smiling. "And if we're comparing horrific experiences, you currently seem to have been through quite a lot, from what I've overheard. Oh, do calm down; I've accepted what happened in the past, and I'm not a sensitive little flower that wilts every time it is brought up."

Well. Ren bows his head again, knows Arsene's doing the same, and thinks someone is a busybody. "We're looking for my sister." He demurs.

That's when the angel reappears, and Ogawa-san thanks it, turning to them. "Some tea to soothe the nerves?"

--

Ogawa-san is, in fact, a terrific busybody; she explains to them that there's a noise (and light-) relay based morse communication system set up, and that she and her daughter and grandson are one of the connection points, either sending more encrypted codes or angels, depending on the severity of the messages. A canine shadow had apparently pioneered the setup, spreading information by a barking relay each sunrise and sunset. They've only recently started incorporating radio frequencies, as everyone had been left scrambling after the internet went down in the first few weeks. "It's why Chiyoda as a whole tries to be neutral," she explained. Other such nodes were found in Edogawa, Nerima and Toshima, all of which were manned by experienced humans or shadows. And more importantly, inside Toshima's Ikebukuro district, a group calling themselves Alibaba were the relay station. It was the most effective one, because a persona was acting as a supercomputer, which.

"If that is not Necronomicon, then I'll eat my top hat," Arsene mused, and Ren didn't want to hope, but he had to agree.

"They're holed up in the Sunshine City, inside the Sunshine 60 skyscraper and Prince Hotel," Ogawa-san said, softly. "Most of the survivors and mutated alike wandered northward due to the flood, and Toshima is one of the more affected districts, though they've been holding up well on both fronts -- the whole place is walled off by now."

Ren nods, but she presses on. "I mean it, young man. Wandering into the ward without any plans is sure to get you killed. Be careful."

"...are there any garuda?" Ren asks, voice somehow both dry and dripping with sarcasm. The scar was still visible against his skin, especially around his eye, though it stopped being a noticeable bother a while ago. Everything hurt nowadays, so the dull ache of the Lichtenburg pattern was negligible. The angel shakes its head. It was holding up a teapot not to be rude, seemingly only scenting the aroma.

"None inside the city borders, though there are other flying mutated, some of which are of my own stock."

Ren and Arsene both nod, determined. The angel eyes them. "Stay for the day and recuperate thy health, travellers. So that ye might not succumb to exhaustion."

"...thank you," Ren murmurs, and Arsene doesn't dare raise his voice at Ogawa-san's look.

First << >> Next

[kiaroscuro]

Warnings: descriptions of violence, major character death

Rating: Mature

Main Pairing: Ren Amamiya / Arsene

Main Tags: post-canon, zombie au, angst, hurt / comfort, road trips

Warning: smut in the middle, of the buoyant kind

· · ─────── =^.^= ─────── · ·

They keep close to the cities, this time, both because of the still-lingering snowfall and also because they fall onto their path. Their first week back on the road is spent in relative silence, Ren cautious as always about flying shadows. They switch their bags around, try to check in every few days over the radio and spend nights huddled together in abandoned structures or higher altitudes. Sometimes, they run into people, humans and shadows in all shapes and configurations helping each other, bringing news from Tokyo and beyond. It seems that surviving winter has brought everyone closer, and Ren shares stories over open fires in abandoned parking lots with a biker gang who acts as an intersection between two towns and a city who have survivor camps. The leader of the gang is a fafnir who lost one of its wing-engines to a water-based shadow. "This is my dyad, Haruto," it introduces a burly human with scars. Haruto says that they're from before the apocalypse, and then goes into a tale about smuggling dogs out of a fighting ring to good homes.

The fafnir isn't a persona, though it certainly behaves that way with its human, and the whole gang doesn't bat an eye at how close Arsene and Ren are, and Ren enjoys it immensely. Any shadow is free to join the gang, fafnir says, though they prefer machine-like ones for the aesthetics.

Johanna would fit right in, Arsene quips, and the sandman and thunderbird cackle at hearing that she's a literal motorcycle. Haruto reveals that their bikes are powered by nuclear or electric-based skills, and Ren has to laugh at the ingenuity. Once they're ready to leave, the next day, a handful of members accompany them until their territory is over, wishing Ren and Arsene good luck with reaching Tokyo, Haruto leaning against Fafnir's side.

Once Ren is unable to see them anymore, once Arsene stops sensing them, the persona trills a laugh and leans down to kiss Ren, his mask parting until he flicks his tongue over Ren's lips. Ren laughs as well, buoyed by the emotions. "What?" He asks, lightly batting at Arsene's side.

"Dyad. I like it. Not a persona, not a persona user, not a shadow or human; a dyad. Like bird pairs." He flicks his wings against Ren's side in jest, and Ren laughs again. If you say so, then we're a dyad. It's as good a word as any to describe us.

--

Everywhere they go, everywhere they pass, Ren and Arsene talk about Tsu and the radio network, show their handheld system and urge people to build their own once the radio static turns into Akane's broadcast. The noise becomes stronger the further they go, and they've reached a point where they can hear her weather broadcast -- sometimes Cassandra chimes in, her voice a surprising baritone -- but they're unable to talk to her anymore, only in short bursts.

But Zenkichi's words ring loudly in Ren's ears, about how they need to re-establish connections, and so he does his best along the way. A month into their travels, the snow starts back up again, but by this point Ren can almost taste Tokyo, so close they are to the capital, and so they shoulder through. The snowfall slows them down, a week's worth of travel suddenly two, but that's okay because they reached the border of the greater Tokyo area in Machida, which meant they were only days away from the others.

They're hunkered down in an abandoned supermarket, some offshoot of a Seven/Eleven that sold air mattresses. They inflated two of the more costly ones, still in a buoyant and good mood, and Ren tugs at Arsene's cravat after making certain that the persona's weight (and pointy parts) won't pierce the mattress. Arsene willingly follows, only a little surprised by Ren's actions. Ren kisses the sides of his mask, laughs in delight, and fumbles at Arsene's clothes until the persona has mercy on him and dematerializes everything with but a thought, discolored skin easily visible in the dim lights of the candles and flashlights. Are you certain? Arsene asks, more about their location than the activity by now, both having grown comfortable with each other's skin. Ren huffs. This is the first time in weeks, Arsene, hush. I want you inside, he think-says, fingers grazing over Arsene's quickly-reddening and puffy slit. He slips in a finger quite easily, Arsene already slick, and Ren can feel the persona's cock pulsing under his fingers.

Arsene burrs. Take off your clothes, dear, I'll be right back-- and the persona gently tugs Ren's fingers away, a string of slick connecting them. Ren complies, shrugging out of his clothes while Arsene rummages around their stuff for the lube and condoms, though Ren makes a face at the latter. You'll thank me tomorrow, Arsene laughs, mask splitting open once Ren's naked. He manhandles Ren until slick claws push inside, and Ren whines and arches his back, leaning upwards for a kiss. Arsene obliges happily, licking into Ren's mouth until his tongue is down Ren's throat and he starts losing air, cock embarrassingly hard already.

It isn't long until Arsene's fingers have Ren open, and the rubbery texture of the condom brushes against his ass. Ren doesn't like it, but he has to concede that there's no opportunity to really shower right now, and he doesn't fancy walking around for however long it'll take for them to find something tomorrow with sticky thighs. Arsene's cock breaches him, and both of them sigh in pleasure, stilling and simply enjoying being this close to each other, before Arsene starts moving again, at first bottoming out and then setting a pace for them, one clawed hand reaching for Ren's cock and fingering at the weeping tip.

Ren has his face-mask cradled between hands, toying with the seam between flesh and faux-metal right up until Arsene's pace becomes irregular, because the persona whines and buries his face in the crook of Ren's neck before his wings tremble and he comes, Ren tugged flush against him. Ren groans, aware that he's close as well; Arsene withdraws, carefully, his cock already retracting back into his slit, the parted flesh looking so soft that Ren thinks, I'd like to fuck into that sometime. Arsene shudders, catching it, before he deposits the condom and then turns his attention back to Ren's own weeping cock.

The persona brushes his mask against it, before winding his (long) tongue around, easily swallowing all of Ren into the velvety warmth of his mouth (maw?). It isn't long before Ren comes as well, Arsene's tongue and his added fingers quickly bringing him to orgasm, and Arsene swallows it obediently before the seam of his mouth closes shut again and he crawls up Ren's body, carefully, until they're hugging and laughing.

A moment passes, until: it's still wintery enough that you should at least consider a blanket, the persona hums. Ren groans. "Really? Arsene!"

Arsene, the fiend, merely laughs.

--

They've decided to follow the train tracks into Tokyo city, walking along partly-broken cars and raided stops, their only companion the soft snowfall and the snowdrops around them. The tracks are in the open, but they're the fastest way into the city, and Ren's noticed that there weren't as many flying shadows as out in the countryside. What he's also noticed is that they can see the waterfront sometimes, even though they're pretty far inland; it seems that the nekomata's words rang true about the bay area flooding. It takes them a good day, but by the time they've reached Meguro much of the surroundings is... flooded. They've been careful, though Ren can feel himself grow more and more impatient the closer they get. Now the only question was...

"...do we go to Jongen?" He asks. It seemed that population this close to the flooded areas was scarce, or maybe it was just the fact that Ren and Arsene were travelling by the train lines.

"We should. Oracle said that they fled towards the Edogawa Ward, right?"

"She said they fled north, yeah. I have no idea where to, though."

"We continue on the tracks until Jongen, check out Leblanc, and then start mingling?" Arsene proposes, and that's as good as any idea. So they set off, switching lines once to not enter the flooded subway system. The whole city is ransacked, both by survivors and the odd mutated they meet, windows broken in, streets flooded and buildings overgrown by nature. At one point vines and roots have broken through the steel and concrete of the tracks, and Arsene hoists Ren up into a bridal carry and flies them towards the main underpass of the Minato ward, past broken glass, to be met with eerie silence.

It's possible that everything close to the bay was abandoned, Arsene comments. Ren has to agree. Everywhere he looked, water was seeping into cracks and crevices, the Tokyo Tower in the close distance surrounded by a sea.

"Let's continue," Ren says, softly, on the lookout for any signs of life, because until now--

until now it's only been the mutated and infected that Ren's seen.

Jongen-Yaya lies abandon and ransacked, Leblanc broken apart by vegetation, just as the movie theatre and the clinic and the supermarket. Going inside of the familiar buildings left Ren with heartache, Leblanc filled with melting snow and dust on the left-behind coffee equipment. Even the pricey coffee Ren's never been allowed to touch was still there, halfway opened.

The attic -- his home -- was just as empty, though it seemed that someone tore down his Phantom Thieves' poster... and his old potted plant. Ren stands silently in the room while Arsene is still downstairs and giving him space, and Ren touches at Mona's collar before muttering a soft prayer and descending.

The Sakura residence is just as empty, though there's a note left behind in Futaba's old room that simply reads: Chiyoda. Ren pockets it, surveys the abandoned building once more; at least no-one's broken into the residential areas as far as he can tell, so the illusion of home remains. "We should stay here for the night," he mumbles. Arsene brushes against him, both with his wings and his mind.

"Are you certain?"

"Yeah. It'll be dark soon. Let's rest and start tomorrow at dawn. Chiyoda's as good a next clue as any, and maybe we'll meet people."

Alright, Arsene agrees, and by common agreement they settle on the couch.

First << >> Next

[kiaroscuro]

Warnings: descriptions of violence, major character death

Rating: Mature

Main Pairing: Ren Amamiya / Arsene

Main Tags: post-canon, zombie au, angst, hurt / comfort, road trips

Warning: some gory descriptions!

· · ─────── =^.^= ─────── · ·

A careful aim towards the blooming flowers out of the infected's head has Ren pull the trigger on his rifle, the shot ringing clear through the silence of the street as the human drops to the ground in a shower of flowers and stale blood. Ren grimaces, reloads his weapon, and takes aim for the next one, safely ensconced behind a building, looking after their new quarry. They'd run into a group of shuffling mutated humans that crossed a bridge into what Ren's starting to think of as their territory, all of them single-mindedly hunting down a survivor who was bleeding profusely from the leg. The initial rush of panic at seeing someone had given way to a forced calmness as Ren takes out the last of the humans -- a boy younger than him, wearing a shirt with a familiar logo -- the street before him splattered with blood and gore and plant-life before he's finally able to put the security back on, the barrel of the riffle hot and smoking.

Ren carefully stands up from his crouch, overseeing the carnage for one last time, kneeling down to close the boy's eyes, before he hurries back to the persona, handgun out just to be safe.

The number of mutated was starting to fall, Ren thought, now that strongholds could keep them from overrunning and infecting survivors. It also made people less careful, though, he thinks, mind flickering to the resemblance between the boy he's just killed, his two seeming siblings and the dying woman he's arrived at the side at. "...good work, boy," she rasps, blood flecking her lips. She was looking a sight, hair cropped short and leg turned the wrong way, hand clawing at a serrated knife as if she's scared that it would be taken from her. Arsene's jacket is draped over her shoulders and front.

...not that she had much time left, something she seemed to know as well. "Took me... by surprise... my family..." she continues, and Ren frowns before crouching down next to her, Arsene already supporting her head on his thighs, wings shielding her view from the falling snow. His claws were carefully poking at her head for any wounds, though they're close enough to her neck that Ren knows Arsene could end her in a second if she starts showing symptoms.

"You were the other group of survivors in the east, then?"

She coughs a laugh, grimacing. "Yeah... my husband, my children, my... ah, sister-in-law an' her son. We didn't... didn't..." she pauses, gaze flicking upwards. "...were scared of 'im... sorry. Saw you 'round, hah. Across the... bridge. 'Es a... gentle...man..." she trails off, closing her eyes as a spasm wrecks through her. Ren thinks he can see something vaguely petal-shaped on her lips the next time she coughs. "My family is... gone now. I don't... I don't-- kill me," she whispers.

Ren freezes. Her eyes open again, at Arsene's sudden tightening grip, a pained noise escaping her. Her eyes find his, and they're clouded over by pain. "I want to die a human," she manages, clear. "Please."

Arsene burrs, distraught, and Ren knows intimately that the persona would do it if Ren couldn't, but. But.

(Arsene hates killing and murdering with a passion, and Ren knows how it always eats at his conscience every time they find camps of dead, his guilt marring his skin white, and--)

He points the gun at her forehead, before sliding it lower, over her heart, pushing the nozzle into the fabric of Arsene's jacket. "...are you sure?" Ren asks, and the woman just laughs while Arsene is slowly extracting himself from her, placing her head carefully on the ground, dematerializing his jacket from her front; Ren can see the gashes and bite marks and has to admit that she wouldn't be able to survive her wounds anyways.

"You're so... nice. That's... good." A pause. "I heard you want to... get to Tokyo. Good- luck with... ah, that. What's... hah, your name... boy?"

"Amamiya Ren," Ren says, and then: "You can also call me Joker."

Her eyes widen even as Arsene's flames furrow into a frown. She smiles again, bloody. "Ah, then... take my heart... mister phantom thief... please."

He'd been right, then. Ren takes a step back, aims, and lowers his eyelids. "I hope you'll find your family again in a better life," Ren murmurs, and pulls the trigger. The gunshot echoes in the streets, and the snow underneath the woman colors a deeper red as she stills. Scrambling noises alert Ren to the fact that the mutated are still agitated, and he glances at Arsene, whose mask is burning low in thinly-concealed anger at the situation.

Let's go home, pigeon, Ren says, and Arsene follows.

(Later: "Her name was Hana Omura. She used to be an accountant and her husband a golfer." Arsene said, once they'd washed the blood away and were pressed tightly together in bed, Ren seeking contact with every inch of Arsene's skin as if he wanted to soak in the warmth and life. "Why did thou reveal thy identity to her?"

Ren had sighed, breath ghosting over Arsene's clavicle. "Her son wore a shirt with out logo on it. I think they made it themselves. It had seemed like-- the right thing, I guess."

Oh, trickster.)

--

The snow was thawing. It had been, for the past few days already; white melting away to reveal rusted concrete and plants everywhere. Listening in to Akane's weather broadcast and talking to her in private revealed a high chance that the winter was over and an early spring would follow.

Take care, you two, is what everyone had told them, tearful good-byes because they didn't know how far Arsene's portable radio would reach.

>>Now's probably your best chance,<< Kasumi had muttered. >>And if we'll not hear about each other anymore: we'll take down Maruki, come hell or high water.<<

Then the connection was cut, and Ren and Arsene were left alone in their hotel room -- their home of two months, looking over the life they'd made for themselves. The phonogram, Mona's shrine, all of the little souvenirs... most of it would have to stay behind. Ren pocketed some of the smaller things like the Gameboy and little portable music player, the pair of gloves Arsene had gifted him for Christmas.

"I'll miss it," Ren admitted, because the place had many fond memories. Arsene hummed in agreement, claws gently following along the wear and tear of the kitchen. It is only a place, he says.

It was home, is Ren's answering murmur, and he'd never thought that he'd feel so maudlin about a set of rooms -- but then again, they'd experienced many firsts here, many ups and downs.

Arsene trills when they close the door, a hand at the nape of Ren's neck and another holding loosely onto the strap of one of the shoulder bags. "Home is wherever you are," he says, so sincere that it takes Ren a moment to register those words. Once he does, he flushes bright red.

And that's that. Mona's collar secure around his own neck, room keys pocketed out of nostalgia, and they're off and back on the road.

--

Once civilization is starting to thin again, once they're at the borders of the city, Arsene makes a surprised noise. Ren turns towards him, takes in the sharp edges of his usual battle attire -- gone were the soft pastels and shapes of the comfy hoodies and loose shirts, Arsene looking every inch the horrifying persona.

"Snowdrops," Arsene says, wonder in his voice. Ren turns towards where he's looking, eyes widening at the veritable field of flowers that greets him, poking through the snow and frozen earth. "I try not to be superstitious," the persona continues (which is,, a lie), carefully walking over until he can reach a singular flower. He plucks it, gently, looking at it in wonderment before he gently holds Ren's cheek and tucks the flower behind his ear. "But this seems like a fortuitous start."

First << >> Next

[kiaroscuro]

Warnings: descriptions of violence, major character death

Rating: Mature

Main Pairing: Ren Amamiya / Arsene

Main Tags: post-canon, zombie au, angst, hurt / comfort, road trips

Warning:

· · ─────── =^.^= ─────── · ·

After a raid of a hardware store or three, they manage to hotwire the portable radio with a better battery and start tuning in on the 13.8 MHz frequency. They manage to connect by the 28th, the staticky voice over the line clearing into Akane's expectant one.

>>Ren! Finally, I was getting worried--<< she cries, and Ren releases a held breath. >>Did everything work out?<<

"Yeah," Ren says, huddled close to Arsene's side. The persona's wing was draped over his side, and they were sitting on the wired-off balcony, hot tea in hand. "The battery should work now. How are you, Akane?"

>>We're good, we're good. Cassandra is awesome, and my predictions have become much better than before -- she's still too weak to constantly materialize, but you said that was normal...?<<

"Oui; it will take some time. The presence of the world makes materializing difficult until ye get used to the feeling. Give her some more time." Arsene agrees, and they talk around niceties and well-wishes in a careful way, as if neither wants to really broach any deeper topics. Arsene's shadow friends apparently settled in nicely, the alice and bugbear pretty good healers, and one of the shogun decided to join Zenkichi on his outdoor-adventures while the other and the nekomata joined the kitchen staff. Akane's trusty shiisha guard had sprained an ankle and was resting, and she was vastly unimpressed by its replacement. Kasumi, Sumire and Cendrillon were settling in slowly as well, though Sumire was rather sickly and weak, and Ren grimaced, the aftertaste of bless forever burned into his mind by now. Kasumi started to tag along with Zenkichi as well, as Akane told him, and had started up a hoard of different soda's Cassandra could identify the effects of as being against brainwashing and forget.

He can't fault her.

>>Dad wants to raid Nagoya's settlement at the beginning of spring,<< Akane whispered lowly. Ren's breath hitches, and Arsene's wing winds closer around his form. >>He said-- he said that destabilizing the council now would be too dangerous because of the winter. What... what happened in Nagoya, Ren?<<

"...do me a favor, Akane, and don't get close to Takuto Maruki, under any circumstances." Ren said, voice low as well, dire. "And keep the Yoshizawas away from him. That man is... delusional, and dangerous."

A shuddery intake of breath. >>Got it. Anyways, I'm not hearing any music on your end, is it too early for your band to play? Or was it a Christmas thing? It had sounded nice.<<

The change in topic was kind of forceful, and suddenly Ren almost wished that Akane would stayed on the topic of Nagoya. "I, that. Akane, there's no... it's just me and Arsene," Ren finishes with, softly.

There's silence on the line.

>>...what?<< Akane asks, voice wobbly. >>But, but-- you're in a city! You've got to be part of a settlement or a group or something! You can't just... be all on your... own...<<

The mademoiselle sounds close to crying, Arsene remarks, silently.

"It's possible that there's more people hiding, but it's just us. We found a hotel and got a room with gas, and we raided a music store for a phonogram a few weeks ago. Ever since Nagoya, it's just been us." Ren says, softly.

"And we're okay," Arsene adds, when Akane stays silent. The line goes dead, and Ren wonders if that would be it for today, when static buzzes and someone else taps into their connection.

>>Sorry, sorry, Akane's not... she doesn't do well with being alone,<< Zenkichi's voice says, kind of scratchy.

Ren laughs, hollow. "Can't say I fault her for it. Apparently I don't do well with being alone either." He huffs. Arsene's thrumming in worry.

>>Nagoya's not your fault, kid. And neither is it the Yoshizawas'.<< Zenkichi says, because apparently he's psychic nowadays. His voice clears a little. >>It's only you two, then?<<

"Us and the many infected, thought we think that there's at least one more person or group in the east." Arsene agrees.

>>You're not too fond of figuring out if they're friends or foe, eh? Can't say I fault you for it. You at least got a good setup?<<

"High altitude with a barricaded door, weapons close by, gas and batteries. We're self-sufficient in the building except for a weekly grocery run. There's a hot spring nearby. And we got music." Ren adds, and Zenkichi whistles, low.

>>Sounds like a cozy little lair. You know, I had been uncertain if you'd actually make it to Tokyo, but by this point I think you're probably the best chance we have of findig possible authorities to help.<<

...what?

"What?" Ren asks, not liking the sound of it.

Zenkichi sighs, weary. >>I told you I was secret police, before? That makes me slightly more prepared for such a situation than others, and right now the most important thing is to actually set up communication across the country again. By radio would be preferable, but runners or-- fliers would also do it. I have no idea what happened to the radio network, or the internet, but as soon as we got it up and running again, the sooner we can deal with people like Maruki. Who knows how many settlements or survivors in general have been drawn into such a situation? I hadn't wanted to burden you with it before, because frankly you're not a trained officer or even twenty yet, but.<< He pauses. >>You got out of Nagoya, and you're well on your way to Tokyo, and Arsene managed to hotwire a portable radio unit, so.<<

Ren's silent for a moment. "...so you want us to what, continue being a runner from one city to the next?" His voice cracks, because -- because--

>>No! I want you to get to Tokyo and establish a network if your portable unit still works, and I want you to find officers and tell them of my plan! God, Ren, I'm not going to send you out to your possible death when I know that you only started that journey to get to Tokyo.<<

The sudden panic that had gripped him starts to subside, and Ren takes a deep breath. Arsene is the one to answer: "We can do that. Any possible names?"

Tokyo MP's First Division is their answer, specifically a man named Megure or anyone from his office. Zenkichi'd worked with them once before, apparently, and they were the cleanest cops he knew about. Ren reluctantly agreed without any guarantees, and then their talk shifted to other topics again, until it circled back to Nagoya. Ren both didn't want to and had to know --

"So Takuto's still leading the settlement?"

>>I'm sorry. Yes; removing him now would destabilize all of the people, and we can't afford to do so in the middle of winder. I heard about ... a lot of what he's done from the Yoshizawas, but is there... anything... you need to add? He will face justice as soon as the snow melts. I'll look into it personally, but. Uh.<<

Ren somehow manages to laugh, even if it's a short, sharp thing, but listening to Zenkichi bumble about like that was nice, to hear the concern and the thinly-veiled anger. Even if he doesn't think so, that man is a good father, Arsene says in their mind, claws drawing patterns into Ren's knee to calm the both of them down. Ren shifts around, leaning more fully against his persona, the radio held between them. Zenkichi lets him think in silence, before Ren closes his eyes. There's a lot of things he'd want Takuto Maruki to stand trial for, though he can imagine what Kasumi would've told the officer in her somewhat-blunt manner. "...the settlement cannibalized shadows," is what Ren ends up whispering. "I dunno if the 'Sumis already told you that, but. Um. Shadow flesh seems to be imbued with elemental essence, and it's... addicting to people. It's--" the eligor, desperately attacking Ren.

"Takuto uses the 'meat' with his mutated-plant vitamins to keep the settlement under his well-meaning control ...people will show withdrawal symptoms."

Ren can hear a shuttered breath across the radio, a thing of static. >>That's... Jesus. Hearing it a second time doesn't make it easier. It also... it also did something to you persona users, right?<<

Ren hums. "The vitamins have a... forget ailment effect; it literally made me forget that Arsene's... you forget how to summon a persona. But that's not-- there's half-feral shadows stalking around the settlement in Nagoya. They deserve to know what happened to their friends and family. They're scared of Takuto, but." He falls silent again, huddling even closer into Arsene's side, the memories haunting. After he doesn't speak for a while, Zenkichi sighs.

>>I'll look into what I can do, kid. You stay safe over there, yeah? Big guy--<< Arsene snorts, >>look after him, yeah? We'll talk again tomorrow, and I'll try to get my hands on the others so that you can also talk with them.<<

Ren agrees before the line falls dead, and he sighs, bone-weary. "...I just want it to be over," he says, not elaborating. Arsene thrums, lowly. I know. It will be, dear.

But when, is the question.

--

The next few days pass in a maudlin mood, until it is New Years and Arsene tugs Ren towards the shrine they'd entered the city from, basket in hand and both of them dressed in approximations of formalwear the persona had insisted on them wearing. Ren hadn't resisted, let himself be led to the shrine in something close to amusement after they'd bid goodbye to the nekomata and Sumire for the day, the radio left in their home.

They come to a halt before the torii gates, the red looking like blood between the white of the snow and the pink of the dawning sky. "I remember you talking about wishing on a good year at the shrines last year, before Yaldabaoth happened." Arsene admits, once they'd arrived. The persona is soft, inquisitive. "That hadn't quite worked out last year, but maybe now..." he trails off, and Ren blinks, surprised. He knows Arsene's interested in culture as a whole -- more so European than anything other -- but he's not expected that the persona would tug Ren to a shrine visit in the middle of an apocalypse for--

oh. Ren's expression softens. "I can walk you through the steps, though it's been a while since I've done this properly," he says, and Arsene churrs in delight. They spend the morning praying and reading fortune, have a nice lunch back inside the grounds where their fire pit sits undisturbed, and then hang prayers for their future up before leaving with the approaching twilight.

It's the best New Years Ren's had for a while.

First << >> Next

[kiaroscuro]

Warnings: descriptions of violence, major character death

Rating: Mature

Main Pairing: Ren Amamiya / Arsene

Main Tags: post-canon, zombie au, angst, hurt / comfort, road trips

Warning: tooth-rotting fluff for once!

· · ─────── =^.^= ─────── · ·

Christmas is spent just the two of them inside the apartment, classical music echoing over the phonograph while Ren tries (and fails) to prepare something resembling a traditional dinner. The turkey is replaced with mackerel, a short excursion towards the shrine yesterday bearing fruit, though Ren's managed to get his hand on seaweed to decorate his little rice creatures. Arsene watches, not lifting a single claw to help, and they talk about inane things while he cooks, stalwartly trying to ignore the outside world and pretending that everything was fine. The persona is putting on the finishing touches onto the radio unit, encasing all of the tender electronics into a mostly-waterproof shell, his book on the subject open next to him on the table.

(They've plated a single slice of fish and rice at Mona's shrine, an incense stick burning and plastic flowers resting in a vase next to the collar, and Ren spent a moment before continuing simply standing there in silence, praying for his lost friend. Arsene didn't join him, though the persona had added a copy of The Curse of Capistrano to the shrine, and Ren has caught him standing before it in the evenings, paging through the translated copy with soft touches. Zorro and Mona are both dearly missed.)

They've seen new activity on the streets, and Ren wonders if it means that there's more survivors or if it means that the mutated are growing bolder, and he honestly doesn't want to know. They've had to take out two infected humans and one shadow a few days ago before the commotion would've drawn in more danger. Ren frowns down at the propane. "...we're running low on gas, pigeon." He says, shaking the barrel to estimate how much is left. A day or so, and then they'd have to make another supply run.

"Already? I hadn't realized how much we've been using it," the persona hums, wings shifting as he stepped closer to Ren. Though thou've been cooking more often than not these days. He recalls, and Ren flushes because he's been in an increasingly good mood ever since he's woken up naked and huddled against the persona's side, buoyed by their shared affection.

"Hm," he says, and belies it at that. Arsene steps back to his radio unit, fiddles with it until a button's glowing softly, and then extends his hand towards Ren. May I have this dance? He asks, softly, and Ren flushes before taking off his apron and checking over the slowly-cooking food.

Yeah, he says, already softly taking the offered hand and stepping closer. Ren's got some ballet training, though he's really more of a breaker and freestyler than a classical dancer. Arsene scoffs, silently, hand going to Ren's waist. A Foxtrot is not difficult, dear. The persona hums, and then leads Ren along, both of them watching their footing until they get lost in the rhythm of the melody. They twirl around until the record scratches over at the end, and they separate with smiles. Ren goes back to check on his food while Arsene looks for a new album -- something much more jazzy, much more peppier -- and they dance and twirl around until Ren stumbles in his footing and lands against Arsene's chest, full of laughter.

"Thank you," Ren says, hasn't felt this light and happy in long, and Arsene's horns blaze in his own merriment while he cradles them together, his wings coming around to blanket over Ren. Always, the persona reassures. Joyeux noël, mon cher.

"Merry Christmas to you too, pigeon." Ren laughs, before reluctantly separating because he's hungry. They sit together at the dinner table, the persona nursing a tea while Ren is satisfied with the mackerel, when a buzzing noise starts to interrupt them. He blinks, confused at first, worried that their phonograph somehow broke, when Arsene makes a triumphant noise while he lunges for the radio.

Ren stares in surprise as the persona adjusts the dial, catching the tail-end of a broadcast.

>>--all over the next couple of days. To the people all the way across the bay: Merry Christmas, and may this night be a peaceful one. But remember, just because it's a holiday doesn't mean that you can slack off in your duties, human and shadow alike!"<<

"...oh god," Ren mutters. "Oh god, that's--"

"Mme Akane! Canst thou hear us?" Arsene twists at another little knob, the static growing less fuzzy. Ren's at his side in an instant.

"Akane!" He cries, elated. Even if she can't hear them, the fact that they're picking up her public broadcast this far away from Tsu is just--

>>A wonderful... wait, I'm getting interference -- dad, Kasumi, help me out, the signal's really weak.<< Rustling. >>Hello, whoever you are, speak up! Are you close to Ise Bay? This is a weather and alarm broadcast for the region. If you can, come to Tsu.<<

"Akane, this is Ren! Can you hear me? Amamiya Ren! And Arsene!"

>>Almost! Keep talking, the frequency is really bad and... wait, is that music? Are you another community of survivors? Dad, hurry up!<<

Ren starts laughing, unable to stop, and even Arsene is thrumming as if in a hiccup while they keep talking into the radio and moving closer to their phonograph, and it is only a minute later that Akane exclaims in triumph. >>We got it working!<<

"Akane--" Ren's voice cracks and Arsene's hugging him to himself. "Akane, it's Ren and Arsene! We're all the way over in-- Nagatsugawa! Oh god, I didn't know you would succeed, Arsene--"

>>Ren!<< Akane screeches, and he can hear soft clamoring around her. >>Oh my god, Ren--<<

>>Wait, Amamiya?!-- <<

>>Senpai!<<

That last one-- that sounded like--

"Sumire? And Zenkichi? And I heard you mention Kasumi earlier-- all of you made it?" He asks, and something heavy finally lifted from his shoulders. If they made it to Tsu, does that mean that--?

>>You bet your ass it's them! They found their way over a handful of days ago-- you keep sending survivors to us!<< Akane laughs, apparently the one with the equipment. >>First it was that rag-tag group of shadows, and then the Yoshizawas; is there anyone missing?"<<

"The nekomata and shoguns' group made it safely over?" Arsene interjects, and Ren would've loved to meet them. Akane answers in the positive, and then segued into how their settlement was doing, before there was a shuffling noise and Zenkichi was on the line.

>>Sorry 'bout that, but you said you're in Nagatsugawa? How do you have signal?<<

"Arsene's been toying around with a radio unit we found on a crashed plane-- he managed to piece it together into a handheld radio system somehow. We're as safe as we can be, really; don't worry too much."

>>That's impossible, you know that.<< Zenkichi muttered, shifting. >>We're kind of cluttering the broadcast right now, but I gotta say, I'm really glad that you've made it this far. And you're pretty close to Tokyo too, huh?<<

"...yeah, we've settled down until the snow melts -- the vegetation's stopped being as destructive, but surviving out in the wild isn't something I want to try while we have a perfectly safe place to stay." Ren admits, readily shifting into something more mundane, something less dangerous. He leans back against Arsene, the persona contently silent right now. Think you can tap into the secret frequency?

Of course, mon petit voleur, who do thee take me for? And maybe install a stronger battery, the radio is starting to die, he added, and Ren relayed the latter part, noting how the voices were growing more staticky. Akane rushes back to the line.

>>Wait before you disconnect! At the same time again tomorrow?<< She asks, voice desperate.

"We shall try, yes. Though I'll have to mount a battery, so it might take a day or more, depending on what we find. ...Merry Christmas from Nagatsugawa, settlements of the bay." Arsene closes with, softly.

First << >> Next

[kiaroscuro]

some fanart for Satori_Mikuu's Ren/Arsene timeloop fic Like a Train Without a Destination! I don't wanna spoil anything, but Arsene gets a power upgrade in chapter 9 that has been living rent-free in my head :D Funnily enough the lineart was done on paper and colored digitally, which was a first for me, but I don't have my markers on hand and wanted to finish it, haha

A second little doodle and the blank version can be found underneath the cut!

[kiaroscuro]

Warnings: descriptions of violence, major character death

Rating: Mature

Main Pairing: Ren Amamiya / Arsene

Main Tags: post-canon, zombie au, angst, hurt / comfort, road trips

Warning: mention of Maruki, smut; yes you've read that right, it's finally happend!

· · ─────── =^.^= ─────── · ·

"...please," Ren murmurs, softly. He's flushed from the night air and the bath he'd taken earlier, standing in their bedroom in a simple cotton-worn sleep shirt and pants. Arsene had reluctantly accompanied Ren into the spring, shame and longing curling through them both while they'd cleaned themselves, not even the distant cry of an infected shadow making Ren lose his composure despite the open surroundings. He knows Arsene had kept sneaking glances at Ren -- the persona always did these days -- because Ren had done the same, eyes trailing over every wound and discoloration that was a physical evidence of their hardships.

Right now, Arsene's dressed down, feathers still dewy from the snow and frost outside. They've got the curtains drawn and have candles burning, their usual evening routine, and some decor is livening up the little apartment. Their phonograph has a place of honor in the living room, Clair de lune softly playing to fill the air with noise. Arsene's handheld radio device is almost ready as well, and they've already eaten dinner and disposed of the cheap plastic plates and cutlery, both of them ready for an early retirement of the evening. Ren knows Arsene had planned on reading through his (painfully dry and technical) book about electronic and radio devices they'd scrounged up in the library, and Ren's initial plan had been to join him with the gameboy and a round of Kid Icarus, before he'd decided otherwise.

Arsene's flames flicker low, a furrowed brow in any human mien, and the persona tilts his head at Ren. He's already in bed and sitting against the nonexistent headboard, his own usual attire exchanged for a dark orange sweater and loose pants as well, and Ren is standing in the doorway flushing even more the longer he remains silent. Finally, Arsene sighs and closes the book. Are you certain, Ren? He asks, softly, brushing against their shared mind-space. Ren lowers his lashes at the intensity of the nameless emotions.

"Yeah. I want-- I want you." He murmurs again, still unable to articulate correctly what it is that he's feeling. He never used to be so reluctant in these matters, he thinks -- at least not in this way -- but being part of Takuto Maruki's colony had made him reluctant in ways he's not been before. He isn't the only one, though. Arsene's wings are trembling in his effort to keep them from moving. Trying to overwrite your association with touch like this is not a good idea, dear. The persona says, and Ren flinches. The worst Takuto had done was kissing him, and the thing with the fork, but it still felt--

"That's not... I want to forget that, yes, but I also... I want you. I want to feel you. And you-- you enjoy sex, don't you? I want us to enjoy ourselves." At least Ren thinks so, going by how many women and also how many children literary-Arsène has had. The persona feels something complicated at that, though his tension from earlier has bled away for the most part.

"... being in this... relationship with me, that doesn't mean that we need to have sex, mon coeur. The bond we share as a persona-human pair is already so much... more than anything else could be. I am perfectly content to stay like this." He says, patting at the empty bedside and spreading his wing as if in invitation. He's correct, of course: the bond they share as a human-persona pair is indescribable, something raw and primal and irreplaceable. Relationships with other people might come and go, but in the end their unity is something sacred, something One that nothing can break apart except themselves. It's also why Ren has such a hard time putting into words what he feels for his persona, because it is so much at once, and also not enough. Arsene is his friend, his savior and his conscience; he's quite literally the living embodiment of Ren's soul, of his rebel's will and so much more, but Arsene is also allowed to be his own person with his own wants and needs separate from Ren, his personal autonomy something that Ren had never dared to take for granted.

"I do not wish to hurt you, dear," Arsene starts again, because they're still talking around the nebulous feelings. You are still young and deserving of much gentler touches than mine, he says, and Ren furrows his brows while he tries to parse past those words, something like indignation settling when he notices how Arsene shies away from his mental prodding. Ren carefully walks over to his side of the bed, kneels down, and brushes his fingers along the lines of Arsene's mask until the persona's eye-fire winks out and he leans into the touch.

"You'd never hurt me, pigeon," Ren says, softly. "And you're not-- I'm not 'too young' for you, what-?"

Arsene burrs, displeased. You are so much younger than I am, Ren, and you know it. Even talking in relatives, I am still older than you. Maruki--

"You're also not him," Ren says, firm. He could counter-argument that Arsene is only about one-and-a-half years old by his point, but that was for another day. "And I'm not a child."

"No, you've stopped being a child ever since you've stood against a false god at the top of Tokyo. Probably ever since you've set foot into the Metaverse, even. But I still worry." The persona says, and Ren falls silent. What a cruel world they lived in, indeed.

"I trust you with my life," he settles on, his hand falling down while he balls both into fists. Arsene is looking at him again, something raw in his expression despite how rigid the mask is. "I trust you more than I would myself, currently. And... Iwant this, Arsene. I'll respect your decision if you say that you don't want to, but only if you make it based on your own desires and not on what you think I need, yeah?" Ren asks, and the persona is silent for a long, long moment.

He exhales, small flames licking up the side of his mask. Alright, but we'll start slow, oui?

Mn.

--

Slow apparently meant that Arsene would drive Ren insane with only his touches, because the persona had tugged and gently guided them around until Ren's back was against his front, seated between his splayed legs. Ren feels self-conscious in the position because he can't really see Arsene, but the persona merely hums before he tugs the shirt off, claws trailing over Ren's sides in familiar patterns before they dare to brush over his chest. Arsene's obsidian skin is a stark contrast against Ren even in the dim light of their candles, and he hitches a breath when one finger pad carefully brushes over Ren's areole, pushing against the soft skin until it sinks in slightly. Ren watches, mesmerized, as the other hand follows, and soon Arsene's cupping over both of his pecs and running his fingers over the sensitive nubs. He's not got much of a chest, body lean and wiry from weeks on the road, but he's always been sensitive there, and Ren exhales a soft held breath when his... lover starts applying more force in his exploration.

Arsene continues like that, strangely unhurried in his explorations of Ren's body. Once he brings his claws up to Ren's lips, pushing against his mouth until Ren opens it willingly, and the long digits explore his tongue before retracting, resuming their kneading and pinching until Ren's breath grows heavy with want. "Mn, Arsene-" Ren tries, wants to touch as well -- Arsene allows Ren to hold onto his thighs and knees for support, but not to explore Arsene's body like he so desperately wants, but he trusts Arsene to know what he's doing, so he only squeezes the persona's knee in a silent plea for more.

Arsene hums, wings curling closer around them, before his hands finally deign to travel lower, claws trailing over Ren's abs and stomach and making his flesh erupt into goosebumps when they finally reach the hem of his pants. With one last, affectionate squeeze to Ren's chest, the persona shoves Ren's pants away -- Ren kicks them off of his legs a moment later, now only clad in his embarrassingly wet boxers. A keening sound signals Arsene's interest, and he shifts them so that he has a better reach for Ren's private regions, brushing the flat of his palm against the clothed erection.

Ren whines. "Arsene, please--"

"Shh, patience, dear," the persona murmurs, fondly. He's continuing his ministrations, one hand teasing Ren's cock and the other drawing patterns into Ren's hip. Ren shudders at the heat that seeps through the fabric, can feel himself leak the more Arsene touches him -- can't wait for the persona to be touching him directly, because he knows that Arsene will be nothing but unbelievably gentle. Ren also feels his interest press against his lower back, but the persona makes no move to do anything against it, and Ren's forbidden from it, so he laces their fingers together on the hand that's holding at his hip and brings it up and back to his chest, but not before giving the pads of two fingers a gentle kiss. Arsene squeezes at his chest again, resumes pinching and rubbing at his nub until it is bruised and swollen, his other hand finally going for the elastic band of his boxers before it disappears beneath it.

Ren jolts, hisses at the sudden skin-on-skin contact and feels his cock twitch at the almost unexpected touch, Arsene's claws trailing over his coarse pubic hair and sending shivers up Ren's spine before they find the base of his cock. Ren bucks into the sensation as the hand closes around him, mewling, and then he has to cant his head to the side because Arsene rests his own next to Ren's, a look of pure focus on his mask. Ren flushes, whines when Arsene finally frees his cock from the confines of his underwear, the reddened head springing free and quickly filling up completely under Arsene's gaze. "Mn, ah," Ren breathes, overwhelmed with the urge to kiss his darling persona. He does so, angling his head and bringing his other hand to cup the side of Arsene's face, placing an open-mouthed kiss on the rapidly-heating mask. A content burr is his reward, as well as a careful exploration of claws at his cockhead, thumbing over the slit and running along Ren's veins until they return to their snug grip around his cock and finally, finally start pumping.

"Oh, oh, Arsene, nn--" Ren mewls again, thoroughly embarrassed by the noises he produces. He shifts, the touch suddenly too much, his position too open, claws his hand into Arsene's collar while he hides his face under the crook of the persona's neck. His other finds the one on his chest again, Arsene shifting to accommodate Ren's changed position, his other hand never leaving their place at his cock.

"Is everything alright, mon coeur?" Arsene asks, voice husky. Ren nods, mouths at the open skin he finds, and is rewarded with a shudder while Arsene resumes his pace, playing Ren's body like an instrument until Ren feels his testicles clench as his orgasm nears, and then he's coming over Arsene's hand while he squeezes his eyes shut.

Ren feels emotionally wrung-out, for whatever reason, but he can also still feel Arsene's own unresolved erection press against his backside, so he grinds down against it in invitation and a question at once. The persona hisses, but stills Ren's efforts. "Thank you, but not now; I think this is about all you can manage for today." Arsene murmurs, not quite apologetic but also firmly.

Ren whines before leaning backwards, eyeing the persona in confusion. "But, ah, what about you...?"

Arsene smiles, nuzzles against Ren's forehead while wiping his soiled hand on his own pants, still wearing all of his clothes. Believe it or not, but this was just as fulfilling for me. Seeing you come undone, seeing your trust in me-- thank you.

Ren frowns, unsure, but... "If you say so." He feels tired, mind fuzzy and warm, and it isn't long before he falls asleep just like that, curled into the safe embrace of his persona.

(Arsene waits, heart fond, until Ren is asleep before carefully extricating himself and disappearing into the bathroom, cleaning himself to the best of his ability without waking his human. He's still aching, but the previously-persistent erection has turned into a dull throb now, and Arsene is too tired to really take care of it himself when Ren is all warm and snug in their bed. He's aware that Ren probably expected them to have penetrative sex, but Arsene knows that he's not had any prior relations of that sort, and the persona is more than willing to take things slow with him.

He's next to Ren in an instant, melting against his side and letting the soft beating of his beloved's heart lull him to sleep.)

First << >> Next

[kiaroscuro]

Warnings: descriptions of violence, major character death

Rating: Mature

Main Pairing: Ren Amamiya / Arsene

Main Tags: post-canon, zombie au, angst, hurt / comfort, road trips

Warning:

· · ─────── =^.^= ─────── · ·

"What do you miss the most about before?" Ren asks, a few days later. They've tested out the hot spring bath for the first time, a quick affair with Arsene standing guard while Ren hurried and bathed -- nonetheless, the warm water had felt wonderful on his skin, making it flush pink, and he might have used up a whole bottle of fancy shampoo from the hotel kiosk. Ren was smelling like sweet roses, but also his hair was as soft as it's never been before. They've settled into a routine that has them do a perimeter sweep each day after breakfast before they choose a direction and map it out more thoroughly whenever they're not staying at the hotel, though Arsene has been hinting that he wants to check out the library, so that was on their itinerary for the next day. They were snuggled close in bed right now, Ren on his back and Arsene resting on his stomach, head on his crossed arms while he watches Ren trail a finger over the outline of his broken horn.

Arsene hums, warmth suffusing them both. Our heists do not count?

"No, that would be cheating," Ren says, softly. Sometimes he wonders if the Metaverse even still existed or if it was completely gone, turned inside-out with the shadows. The persona ponders over the question, adjusting his wings until one is folded loosely against his back and the other draped over Ren's legs.

I think... music. Is what Arsene settles on, softly. He's abandoned working on the radio in favor of their new surroundings for now. I miss going to the theater, or to performances; the noises of an alive city, I guess. Et toi?

"Honestly, music's a good point. I can't help but think about movies, though -- that new chick flick that Ann wanted to watch was supposed to release this month, but with everything..." Ren sighs, the pads of his fingers trailing lower, over the edges of Arsene's mask. They've not had sex yet, something Ren really wants to remedy one of these days, but any memory of intimacy brings Takuto to the forefront of his mind, and he keeps recoiling from his own thoughts. Seeing Arsene like this, all soft and pliant to Ren's touch, makes him want to push against the seams of the persona's masks, makes Ren want to open his mouth and figure out if Arsene has a tongue or not. Ren wants to do things, but also not really, and it confuses him. But Arsene is here, and in the end that is all that matters.

Mhm. Leblanc's coffee. I miss how comfortable it was, listening to thee grind the beans and prepare the drinks under the Hierophant's gaze.

Ren closes his eyes. "...or going to the subway mall with Ann and Haru, or eating ramen with the guys. I even miss Makoto nagging about our exams and Futaba bugging the attic. Do you think... they're okay?"

"We have to believe so," Arsene answers, softly. Qu'est-ce qui te manque d'autre? He asks.

"School, if you'd believe me. Huh, never thought I'd say that. Hmm... being able to just order food. Having a phone connection."

Having internet, I presume? That too, yes, but not necessarily for the reasons Arsene was thinking; having internet meant that Ren was always one text away from his friends, and it made it so much easier to research things. How often had they run into situations where only trial and error had saved them, instead of a quick web search later? Ren sighs, feels the wing shift before Arsene cradles his hand close with his own, dark claws so much bigger than Ren's hand. He brings the back of it to the seam of his mouth, puffing out a little flame in imitation of a kiss, and Ren flushes before shifting himself, tugging at Arsene until the persona willingly follows. Ren kisses the seam, fire licking against his lips, and he can feel it part minimally under his touch until -- something wet licks over his lips.

It disappeared too quickly for Ren to really see, and he's staring in bewilderment at the persona. Arsene is grinning, flames curling around his horns in amusement, and Ren touches a finger-pad to his own lips in wonder. "Did you-- did you just--" He stammers, embarrassingly red all of a sudden.

Arsene's mouth parts open, slower this time, the inside painted an orange-red. He sticks out the tip of his tongue, cheekily, before the seam closes again and the fire reappears. You forget that I can hear your thoughts as if on broadband, dear.

Ren flushes crimson to the tip of his ears. "You-- you-- you-- ugh-!" He wails. It's mostly for show, because both of them can feel how the heat is pooling low in Ren's stomach, and it would be easy for Arsene to just continue and Ren wouldn't even really want to stop him--

only the persona retreats again, like back in the shrine, still close to Ren but without any intent of continuing. He's shuffled so that his mask is digging into Ren's stomach, draped halfway over the human, melodramatic as he likes to be, though there's an undercurrent of notyet-soon-notready that Ren acknowledges with a hum.

--

The library's just as imposing on the inside as from the outside, Ren notes, standing in the doorway and admiring the arching dome. It looks like something out of a wizard's lair, and the musk of books is heavy; it seemed that on the day of the outbreak the library had been closed, because nothing is touched or even disrupted inside, and so they proceed onwards. Arsene wants to pick up a book on building and repairing electronic devices to help in his quest with the radio, and Ren is interested in anything about wilderness survival he can get his hands on, so they part ways for an hour or two, each one perusing their own aisles. Ren keeps receiving feedback from Arsene's emotions every-so-often, little tidbits while they browse, until he comes across a rental space for household appliances and stops, staring at it. Oh, right, that's a thing. The little electric stove or the rice and water-cookers weren't exactly useful in their situation, but there were 'leisure items' as well, which included battery-powered gameboys, something called an Etch-a-Sketch, and various other electronic games. Ren grabs one of the consoles and all of the games for it, grabs the weird sketchpad-thing, and finds a music disc player. He stares at it, notes that it's battery-powered, and absolutely grabs it as well, already turning into the aisle with rentable music CD.

(Inserting the first CD he finds, labelled Best of Japanese Folk Songs, he immediately notices that the audio output is missing. Thankfully Ren knows some about music players -- Yusuke owned an old mp3-player he would occasionally use -- and that led him back to the electronics rental section in search for both a little sound amplifier and headphones. He finds both, and setting the music on the lowest volume has the chime of a flute echo in the silent library.

Ren gets goosebumps and then hurries over to Arsene to show him.)

Arsene's ecstatic, and they spend a good hour just goofing off and trying out different CDs until they have a sizeable stack before something occurs to the persona: Think we can find a record store? He thinks-asks, and Ren tilts his head to the side.

"Probably, yeah. Why?"

Arsene flushes. "Phonographes do not require any sort of electricity." He says, abashed, as if it was ridiculous that he'd forget something that was common during his not-lifetime. Ren stares at him.

"Then let's find one! Oh-- and an analog camera as well, and-- hm..." he trails off, uncertain if such a thing as an analog television that didn't need cable existed. He brushes his lips against the edge of Arsene's mask in good measure before they put their haul into backpacks and leave the library, re-closing all of the doors to keep it intact for future visits. After depositing their new belongings in their room, they continue onwards in search of either a music store or an office for a city map, before Ren glances up at the softly-snowing sky. "Think we can find Christmas decorations somewhere?" He asks, and Arsene steps closer until their sides brush against each other.

"How come?" The persona asks, voice soft.

"...a little bit of hope never hurt anyone, did it?" Ren asks, softly, and Arsene agrees a moment later.

(They find a record store the same day and ornaments two days later in an already-ransacked mall, and by the end of their tenth day there's an almost obnoxious amount of Christmas decoration spread across their home. Ren even found some oversize sweaters that could fit on Arsene's broader frame after he doctored the back for the persona's wings, cutting stripes into the lower back and sewing on clasps underneath so that the sweaters could sit snugly on Arsene's hips, and it was so absurd to see the battle-ready persona dressed in anything that wasn't formalwear that Ren had to laugh the first time.)

First << >> Next

[kiaroscuro]

Title: as the world caves in

Warnings: descriptions of violence, major character death

Rating: Mature

Main Pairing: Ren Amamiya / Arsene

Main Tags: post-canon, zombie au, angst, hurt / comfort, road trips

Warning:

· · ─────── =^.^= ─────── · ·

They wander into the city at the beginning of noon, scouring the shrine grounds first thing in the morning before setting off. The shallow groans of the mutated can be heard even before Ren and Arsene step past the stone arch designating the path towards the temple, and he's got his handgun out in a flash while they carefully slink past the infected humans. The snow crunches softly underfoot, and Ren wonders if there's any survivors in the city -- finds himself disinclined to inspect it. Their priorities right now are to scour a safe base for what might just be the remainder of the winter months: it is early December now, so they were looking at about two months, possibly three before they can continue towards Tokyo.  

Nagatsugawa seems to be a very traditional city, at least in the parts they traverse, and none of the homes that are somewhat intact (not broken apart or full of visible gore, that is) seem like they would survive long against any mutated that would try to seriously hurt their little party, especially if it is infected shadows. Arsene frowns as they pass yet another disturbed zen garden. Something more western would probably be better, he comments kind of delicately, as if Ren would chose to be offended now of all times about the disregard for traditional buildings and architecture.

I agree, he sends instead, shifting around. Their short stay in the shrine might've done him good, but he was still stiff from the cold and his shoulder. They have a close encounter with a horde of humans who noticed them, but mutated humans are much less horrifying than shadows, and together they quickly thin the rounds until they can escape -- into a much more modern district, the wooden houses giving way to concrete builds. Ren takes a moment to recuperate, eying the snow in front of them. ...do we want to look for apartments again? Or something like a shopping mall, or hospital? What's the most secure?

Arsene is silent next to Ren, the soft snowfall melting on his mask and skin but sticking to his clothes and wings, making him look like a vengeful snow angel before he answers, head tilted. It depends, really. Considering the length of our stay -- maybe a hotel? Elevated rooms for defense, amenities that might still function -- do thou know anything about this city?

...a horror manga artist lives here, Ren answers, because that's his only bit of trivia. So a hotel, then: with a personal generator in the hopes that we might get some electricity? Unless you suddenly got zio skills I don't know anything about, Ren jokes, and Arsene huffs before they continue. The upside of hotel rooms is also the fact that they have the possibility of finding previously-unoccupied rooms, so that they don't have to invade someone's private home again, which still makes Ren's skin crawl with guilt. They pass a public library, making note of it absentmindedly because it also seems like a good last-minute fortification with its distinctly heavy doors and small, barred windows, before they start their search in earnest.

They dismiss the Hanasarasa and the Windsor as soon as they step into the lobbies and are met with the stench of the decayed and dead, and three more afterwards because Arsene doesn't think they're high enough floorplan-wise. The next is a traditional-styled Onsen Inn hotel that's, again, not very secure but which has a natural hot spring amongst its three choices. Ren stares at it, kind of awed that there'd be one, and they test the water to find it warm against all odds. "...at least we know where to come to take a bath," he murmurs, transfixed. It's been so long since he's had warm running water...

Ren shakes his head before continuing onwards, pressed to find a hotel nearby so that they could use this golden opportunity often. They check out two, finding passable floor-plans and little in the way of dead or mutated people -- one had electronic sliding doors that were broken in, making the lobby a possible hazard, so in the end the hotel they settled on the Enakyo Grand Hotel with its ornate wooden entrance door and rather traditional style. The best of both, Ren joked, glancing around the lobby and noting the little kiosk and restaurant area. Arsene has already walked over to the reception area, leafing through a pamphlet before whistling (somehow. Ren stopped questioning how the persona made over half of his noises with his mask). I agree; there's family suites that are decked out with kitchens -- and gas stoves.

Ren stares. "Really?"

Arsene smiles, wings fluffing up. "Oui. Not all of the rooms, but there's a few in the west part of the building. Not as high as I would've liked, but gas is-- good." He finishes. His voice still was kind of croaky, but nowhere near as bad as in the past, so Ren let it slide that Arsene was talking out loud, sidling up next to him.

"No words on any sort of generators or anything like that, but we can check that out later -- between the gas stove and the hot spring nearby, I think this is a good choice." Ren comments, turning towards the wall of keys and ignoring the flecks of blood in the reception. They'll have to clean out the lobby, Ren thinks, because he can't in good conscience leave it like this if they planned on living here for a while. Arsene consults the pamphlets before choosing their room keys -- five, so that they could decide between living spaces -- and Ren blinks abruptly, hand smoothing over Mona's collar.

"Oh." He says, and Arsene turns around in confusion. "Sorry, it's just -- this is all strangely... domestic, considering we're in the middle of a- zombie apocalypse."

They're both silent for a moment. "...we're out of mortal danger -- sure, we've not made it to Tokyo, and I don't know when we'll make it there, but we're as safe as we can be for only being a team of two, and we've found a place to sleep, have access to warm water and to gas for cooking, and there's a kiosk here and a seven-eleven three streets past, and we can always go hunting because we're near the edge of the city. So we're also pretty good on that front... it's just strange, isn't it?"

"I think," Arsene starts, delicately, "I think we deserve some down-time. Ever since the cataclysm has happened, we've been relentless in our goals to reach Tokyo, and we've not really had time to really grieve... or do anything but compartmentalize. I know that thou're worried about the others, but I think thou also-- need this. We need this," he amends, and Ren stares at him, before lowering his lashes and breathing softly.

"You're probably right. Okay. Let's choose a room and then clean up the lobby, yeah?"

Mh.

--

They ended up choosing one of the traditional-style rooms on the second-highest floor, with a view of the city and the nearby river and forest from their balcony; the room was on the corner, so the balcony wound around in an L shape, a surprisingly big thing. If they secured wires around it, they might even use it. There was a rectangular living room with low seats and a kotatsu and some storage space, a small tv in the corner. A sliding screen door was separating it from the humble kitchenette. Another sliding door lead to the small bedroom, two futons on raised frames and a drawer, and the only western door connected to the bathroom, consisting of a shower, sink and toilet. Ren knew from past experiences that the shower would be unusable, but the toilet could be used as long as they kept refilling the water tank after each time. He stares at it. Note to self: we need buckets of water. A lot of buckets. I think that should be our first priority, right after we clean everything out.

Also more gas tanks -- but I can ransack the first few from the other rooms. Arsene adds, amused. We'll need water in the kitchen, too. Maybe use the balcony to store it? And we have to explore the hotel before starting any renovating, I don't trust it to not have surprises in store.

Yeah, that too.

(Two days later, Ren glances around their new home, taking in the citrus scent of the air fresheners Arsene had hung up everywhere. They'd cleaned their room of dust and the lobby of blood, methodically went through each of the rooms and locked the ones with the dead while marking the ones that were empty. They checked out the working spaces as well, locked any doors to dangerous-looking equipment. A stack of candles has been squirrelled away, as well as any spare batteries and flashlights they could find -- a few baby lamps, too, until their room had sufficient light even in the dark and with the curtains drawn tight to not attract any attention. Any pots and pans have been taken for water storage as well. A trip to the supermarket had them stock up on basic necessities like shampoo and toilet paper and medicine for the little cabinet, and Ren found a handwashing machine and water tank and took that with them as well. Arsene acquired chicken wire and a toolbox, and the second evening in the hotel was spent hammering down the wire onto their balcony to protect them at least somewhat from flying mutated. Their things were stored in the drawers and cupboards, and Ren had pushed the beds together the first night, was now standing in the living room in sweats and pink fuzzy slippers the hotel provided. He had put Morgana's yellow collar on top of the drawer with two candles.

It felt like the first time since Mona's death that Ren could take a deep breath and really hope for the future.)

First << >> Next

[kiaroscuro]

Title: as the world caves in

Warnings: descriptions of violence, major character death

Rating: Mature

Main Pairing: Ren Amamiya / Arsene

Main Tags: post-canon, zombie au, angst, hurt / comfort, road trips

Warning:

· · ─────── =^.^= ─────── · ·

The snowstorm rages on, turning the countryside into a white canvas of possibilities. It is obviously unnatural, evergreen trees and black charred and frozen bark giving color to nature's destruction, fir trees and pink-blooming sakura spread across the views. The metal walls of the plane are freezing to touch, everywhere where there had been a leak or a break in the plating isolated with clothes they'd salvaged from the luggage of the long-dead passengers. The hours turn into days, growing colder by the moment, and Ren knows that neither he nor Arsene will be able to survive much longer; the persona is weak to ice anyhow, and Ren's human body with its human frailness needs somewhere substantially warmer to recover fully.

"We need to leave," he says, a week into the snowstorm. The pilot's cabin is the warmest place in the whole plane, no cracks in the glass and with a door that can shut out the draft from the the rest of the plane. They've taken to keeping their belongings there, taken to sleeping in the seats and waiting for the sky to clear again. Right now, Ren's huddled inside of Arsene's embrace in a need to preserve warmth, the persona's higher body heat a balm on his aching body. I know, Arsene murmurs, claws rubbing soothing circles into the small of his back. But going out in this weather is just as dangerous.

"It's possible that there's a city close by; we're near Mt Ena." Ren insists, burrowing his face against Arsene's cravat. They'd carefully explored the perimeter around the crash site, and with the way the cliffside gave way to an incline that became steeper the higher you got, it was their closest bet to where they were. Ren's rations would also never hold him through winter, even if they occasionally managed to hunt for wild animals.

We don't know in which direction, though, Arsene presses, because they could survive maybe a day in the cold, but not much more with how the weather kept getting worse. And we don't know how the mutated and infected react to these conditions.

"We'll have to chance it, pigeon," Ren murmurs, dreading it just as much. They could try to trek back into Nagoya, but even the thought left him repulsed; he hopes with all his heart that the Yoshizawa twins made it out by now, safe with Zenkichi and Akane. Arsene burrs. Let's wait a day more, he pleads, mask turned towards the howling winds and ice that frosted over the windows.

--

Two days later sees a weakening in the relentless assault of the weather, and Ren and Arsene set out after carefully sealing the entrance to the plane -- it was possible that they'd have to hurry back if they wouldn't find anything. They spend a moment in silence at the small graveyard the other shadows had built, Ren's thoughts in a silent prayer, before they hurry along. The plan was to go to Nagatsugawa or to Ena, though they weren't picky about where they'd end up as long as it was a larger town or city; with how unpredictable the weather was, Arsene had pointed out, they'd need somewhere where supplies would be aplenty even if they'd been raided already. Ren had agreed, seeing the logic, and they set out, carefully descending and picking their way through the snow.

It was a treacherous path to take, and they had to find shelter under an outcropping rock formation after the weather had turned bad again around noon, but they'd made it to the Ena Shrine by the dawning of twilight of the next day, soaked to the bone but thankfully without frostbite or anything worse, not having slept a wink. The shrine grounds were empty of survivors, only a lone mutated human that Arsene took care of quickly, before they settled inside to recuperate, finding old cloaks to huddle under after Ren stripped out of his frozen clothes. They had a fire going, the glow of it casting everything into a soft light as it crackled along, and civilization was just around the corner. They could probably reach Nagatsugawa by that evening if they'd kept going, but resting was just as important after almost two days straight of travel.

Ren watches the persona boil a pot of water for his meal, the snow melting into the pot until it is hot enough to add the packet of ramen to it. He's already drunk a cup of tea, after they pilfered the shrine's little kitchenette, and now he watches the contours of Arsene softly. They'd not really talked about the topic after his little breakdown a good week ago, but Arsene's touches had become more lingering, Ren's fondness growing tenfold for the persona. Once he'd deemed the noodles done, he hands them over to Ren before sitting across from him, taking out the pieces of radio equipment that he's taken from the plane.

Arsene was steadfastly hardwiring the radio unit until it becomes a portable device, in the hopes that they could reach Akane's broadcast, but between how broken the electronics had been in the plane and no present radios at the shrine it was slow-going. But it was a project to pass the time, and so Arsene continued onwards with tinkering, and Ren continued watching him fondly while eating. Once the persona is close to frustration -- and Ren's finished eating -- he puts down his bowl and scurries over to his Other Half, leaning against his side with a content hum. He's already feeling much better than the whole last week combined, the everlasting cold finally seeping out of his bones again now that they were close to a fire. "How's it going?" Ren asks, cheekily.

Arsene huffs. I need actual tools to finish this -- we should look for a hardware store once we're in the city proper. And a clothing shop for a scarf for thee.

Ren hums. "Sounds good to me," he agrees, enjoying the warmth. He shifts the cloak around until he can drape it over Arsene's shoulders as well, and the persona's fire blinks out in surprise before he helps adjust it, winding an arm and a wing around Ren in silent thanks while they continue to sit in companionable silence, waiting for the fire to die out. At one point, Arsene's claws start drawing little shapes into Ren's unhurt side, careful of his still-tender shoulder. Ren sighs in delight, snuggling closer against the persona's side, mentally cataloging the patterns and brushes. Arsene's claws wander up to his shoulder, ghosting over the lighting-strike, before they dance over his upper arm, only to fall to his side, scratching against his skin and tugging his sleeveless shirt along. They wander lower, just shy of the hem of his loose sleep-pants and over his hips, before retreating upward in pitter-patter motions.

By the fourth time, Ren's noticed that Arsene's hand keeps ghosting lower and lower each time, once pushing past the band of his pants, once trailing along the edge until they find his stomach, splaying open in a possessive motion just underneath his navel, and suddenly he finds himself holding his breath as the atmosphere shifts to something closer to what it had been in the Morimiya's apartment. Ren imagines those deadly and yet tender claws ghosting lower, imagines Arsene's hands at his cock with the same gentleness as when the persona had dried him, but with much more intent, and for the first time in a long while he finds himself twitching in interest.

Arsene hums, shifts them around and closer, his wing pressing softly against Ren's side where the cloak doesn't, and then he withdraws his claws, previous possessiveness turning into a gentle hold with no intent behind it. Ren almost whines, and the persona boffs a laugh. Eager, are we? He asks, tone fond, and Ren twines their fingers together against his stomach. "Mh," he says, eyes half-mast. "I wouldn't mind."

Ah, but I would, mon coer. This is just about as unsuitable as the plane had been, dear. Thou deserve all the good things.

We could be out in the snowstorm and I wouldn't mind, Arsene, Ren chides, but by now the moment has passed and he's too comfortable besides to do anything, his persona's fondness echoing through Ren's chest like cotton-candy. But only if you want to, Ren adds, a haunted echo just behind his lowered lashes.

Arsene thrums, squeezes their fingers together. "My little thief, I've wanted to ever since we've left Konoe's."

Ren blinks his eyes open in surprise. "Really? You could've..." he trails off at another thrum.

"You're just about the only thing I could never forgive myself for rushing." Arsene admits. I've been so terrified of loosing you, there would've been no time for anything anyways. And you weren't ready besides, he adds, canting his head until it rests on top of Ren's, the lower edge of his mask digging into his skull. Ren didn't mind it. Arsene grows quieter, the flames on his mask dimming from what he can make out. I'm still not certain you're ready now.

Ren laughs. "Me neither, but I want to-- I want to try, at least."

Oui. But not today; not here on the floor of a temple.

First << >> Next

[kiaroscuro]

Title: as the world caves in

Warnings: descriptions of violence, major character death

Rating: Mature

Main Pairing: Ren Amamiya / Arsene

Main Tags: post-canon, zombie au, angst, hurt / comfort, road trips

Warning:

· · ─────── =^.^= ─────── · ·

The persona is nothing if not attentive over the next few days, always around Ren to make sure that his side and eye didn't get worse; there was little to do for the lighting-strike other than to keep the surface of Ren's skin soft and flexible, and they've started treating it like the burn wound on Ren's arm. They don't speak much, basking in each other's presence while the wind howls outside, rattling the metal carcass of the plane and howling in sorrow. Once Ren feels as if he can walk for more than two steps, Arsene takes him to the pilot's cabin, making Ren sit down in the seat while the persona occupies the other, and then he starts talking about the controls of the plane. Arsene recites from not-memory how to fly a simple one, how many of the little devices were used by the military first. After some time, he started taking apart and inspecting the radio unit of the plane in the hopes of repairing it. Ren listens to him, watches the snowstorm swallow everything in white while the voice of his other half washes over him, and imagines a simpler life, one where he could've finished high school and then gone back to Tokyo for university. Sometimes, flecks of the star-lit sky become visible, and Ren's eyes search out familiar constellations, the North Star always a focal point, Ursus Major another he recognizes.

Ren closes his eyes and imagines meeting Zenkichi and Akane and the Yoshizawa twins in another life; maybe a new Metaverse would've emerged over summer vacation, and he and his thieves could've met Zenkichi as an officer working on the same case. Akane and the twins could've joined them as persona users, and Zenkichi and Sojiro could've met and gone along splendidly. Maybe Konoe would be one of Ren's confidants, the man a broken mess even before the cataclysm. He ruminates on their possible code-names, imagines how his thieves would've reacted to meeting them, imagines how Mona would've gotten along greatly with Akane. Arsene's voice has fallen into a steady rhythm, and he shifts ever-so-often to adjust his wings in the seat, claws drawing over the console and plucking around electrical wires without any power left.

Maybe, maybe, maybe...

Ren closes his eyes, feels his side dull to a slow throb, and listens as Arsene fumbles around with the broken radio unit while talking about his adventures of long past, telling tales about the world war because both of them were in a maudlin mood. It's a strange camaraderie, almost domestic in how at ease he finds himself in the persona's presence, and Ren thinks that he could grow used to staying like this forever.

(What a dangerous thought.)

Deft claws take apart the front panel of the radio, more wires exposed, a tangled mess that has Arsene hiss in displeasure. Ren eyes it, watches cables and wires twine together and destroy each other, and closes his eyes, exhaling once while he lets his weight sag against the seat. "...it's all such a mess," Ren murmurs, and Arsene's wings twitch and his fire flickers before he turns towards Ren with a low-burning confusion.

I can untangle them just fine, do not worry, mon cher. The persona says, but Ren shakes his head. "Everything had been perfectly fine, and then it got-- tangled together, and now I don't know--" he stops, stares down at his hands and imagines the blood of the nebiros and mithra on them. He can still taste the blessed flesh, insides protesting at the sense-memory. Arsene is silent for a moment.

...we aren't talking about the radio unit, are we? He asks, softly, and Ren breathes in shakily, tries to keep his voice even. Arsene's fire softens, before he puts the mess of cables and wires down on the console again, turning towards Ren.

"I should've listened to you and leave, but--" He shudders, "-- I really thought I could trust him. I just don't know why--"

He paid attention to ye, Arsene comments, still soft. At thy exploits and thy knowledge, and he allowed thee to use it for the people in a way that made a difference. My dear, this was not a trap thou could've known how to escape, because Maruki made certain to slather the oil with honey. He exploited natural human need for companionship and thy natural desire to help people -- for that, I cannot be sorry enough.

Ren draws in another shaky breath, eyes blinking because he can feel the tears stinging. "But--"

My greatest regret is not being there for ye throughout all of it.

I let him touch me--! Ren cries, unable to voice it out loud. He clenched his hands into fists before winding them around his elbows, pressing them against his stomach at the sick feeling surfacing. The wound on the side gives off a dull throb almost as if in warning, but Ren ignores it, relishes in the pain. "...I let him touch me," a broken murmur, "even though..."

Claws carefully pried his fingers off, smoothing them out one by one, Arsene's finger pads trailing over the palm of Ren's hands until they stopped clenching and lay flat on his thighs. Ren glances sideways at his persona, who had never looked so human as in that moment, regret trailing down over his mask like tears of golden ichor as he knelt next to Ren. Did what happened with Mademoiselle Shiho or even our own Panther make them weak in thy eyes? The persona asks gently. Ren hiccoughs and shakes his head. Of course not, but Ren's fallen for Takuto's soft words and machinations while Ann and Shiho had been forced into compliance...

Arsene thrums, lowly. His head tilts to the side, claws gently squeezing Ren's hands. Like this, Ren can see the cut on his throat, the thin line of discolored flesh. Had Fox not believed that Madarame was a honest and just man because he was raised under pretenses? Had he not cared for the artist almost like a father, because he was at one point treated as such? Ren, what happened to thee is in no way thy own fault. Thou should know this.

And the thing is-- the thing is: rationally, Ren knows this. But Ren also knows that he'd enjoyed Takuto's attention, his soft and ready touches and gentle smiles and adoring gaze -- his and Sumire's both. Ren also feels distinctly used and manipulated, and he wants to do nothing more than scrub the memory of that last dinner off of his skin. He hates himself for his feelings, because that silk-thin strand of possibilities that had been growing between him and Arsene--

Ren isn't sure he deserves it, anymore. "Even though--" he tries again, tries to get Arsene to understand, because Ren feels wretched and hollow and so, so greedy for taking all of his persona's attention, and--

"Ren, my dear," Arsene rasps softly, "seeking out a connection in these circumstances is not something I would ever begrudge thee." I will be happy with whoever thou decide to settle with, as long as both parties consent to it.

Ren shudders. "...even Akechi?" He asks, half in jest and half because there had been something between them, amidst all the murder and subterfuge and deceit. Arsene makes a noise, wings twitching. He's got them pressed tightly against his back, Ren notes, which has to be uncomfortable. Even Crow, though I would  question thy sanity on that matter. He admits, and then adds, softer still: I mean it, though.

"I don't want anyone else's attention," Ren admits, lowering his lashes and eyes growing distant. "I... for a long time now, I think, I didn't want anyone else's attention but yours." He's still fixated on the cut, remembering how soft the skin had felt under the touch of his lips. Arsene's exhale is a breath of warm air.

"I know, mon cher."

"I know I'm never going to have all of it," Ren continues, haltingly, because it is in Arsene's nature to be flighty. He is a magpie with treasures of gold and women, hoarding one shiny thing until something new catches his eye. Ren's read the novels, and moreover, Arsene is part of his own heart, and-- "but if I could have it for now, I'd..."

Oh, Ren, Arsene murmurs, squeezing Ren's hands before carefully turning his kneeling into a crouch, his mask pressed to the side of Ren's face. "I cannot promise that you'll have me forever, but for as long as I am by your side, you'll have me." You've had me ever since the day we've met for the first time, Arsene adds, softly.

Ren breathes out a weight he hadn't noticed holding. "Oh," he murmurs, before closing his eyes and turning in his seat until he can hug Arsene, until he can feel the persona's claws trail through his hair and over his cheek while Ren burrows his head in his neck. Thank you.

First << >> Next

[kiaroscuro]

Title: as the world caves in

Warnings: descriptions of violence, major character death

Rating: Mature

Main Pairing: Ren Amamiya / Arsene

Main Tags: post-canon, zombie au, angst, hurt / comfort, road trips

Warning:

· · ─────── =^.^= ─────── · ·

Ren wakes to the cold, head fuzzy and mind slow. He feels disoriented, his whole side a single giant bruise, his shoulder in contrast an inferno. He blinks, tries to clear black spots from his vision, only for an overgrown, rounded dome out of some sort of metal to come into view. He stares at it, full of incomprehension, and then tries to move from his makeshift bed. Pain lances up his whole body, shoulder and neck growing taunt, and Ren hisses in pain.

Arsene is at his side in an instant, claws carefully aiding Ren until he's sitting up, noticing the number of seats scattered about. He blinks, blearily, all of the remaining adrenaline draining out of him at the sight of his persona, looking worse for wear but present, and Ren closes his eyes and leans his head forward until Arsene catches him softly.

"You're okay..." Ren murmurs, hoarse. The persona thrums, oh-so-softly, claws carding through hair.

I was never gone, my dear, foolish thief. Arsene think-speaks, before carefully leaning back, claws ghosting over his cheek and right eye, and Ren notices with a start that his vision's fucked in it. It's wonky, and he hopes that it'll clear up. Arsene keeps tracing over the skin there, and Ren feels the touch, both hyper-sensitive and not, and he shudders.

The lightning hit me, didn't it?

The persona nods, curls his fingers over Ren's cheek and then carefully cups Ren's face, his palm soothing against Ren's skin. From thy shoulder to thy eye, oui. It drew a pattern. Foolish human, risking your life like that. He chides, but his tone is so soft, his worry a leaden weight in Ren's stomach.

"Sorry," Ren rasps. "I just-- I couldn't--" I'm sorry, Arsene. I never should've-- he catches himself, unable to articulate any of his feelings, everything a jumbled mess.

I know, Arsene says, curls wings into Ren's view, almost mantling them together in possessiveness but not quite daring to touch Ren. Thou're burning up, dear. I hadn't dared to give thee medicine while unconscious, but thou should eat something now and then take some.

Ren nods, acquiescing without rebuttals. Arsene thrums before he turns towards their packs, and Ren takes his chance to glance around. They're in some sort of broken-down passenger plane, vines and other nature breaking in through the windows and broken doors, part of the roof caved in further to the end of the plane. Ren thinks that they're somewhere near the front where the stewardesses usually sit, because there's less seats and a door that may or may not lead to the pilot cabin. He shudders when he sees the rusty color of dried blood in corners and in some of the upholstery fabric, but there's surprisingly little in the way of corpses around. Ren had been lying on a makeshift bed out of a few seats and bedding from pilfered suitcases.

Arsene appears in his vision, sans his red leather jacket but with one of Ren's jerky sticks and a plastic cup full of water. A group of shadows had made their home in the plane; they've buried what they could and burned the rest. His persona says, privy as always to Ren's thoughts. The graves are marked outside, some with the names of the dead. It is not ideal, but-- he pauses, but Ren hears the echo: a snowstorm was building up, dangerous to traverse even without Ren being in absolutely no condition to really move around.

He eats the jerky, forces it down if only to have Arsene worry about one thing less, and then drinks the medication before the persona carefully tugs Ren's clothes away -- he doesn't recognize them, thinks they're from the lost passenger suitcases -- before both of them stare at the ugly wound on Ren's side. That's going to scar, he thinks, and Arsene is morose through their connection. He pads at the wound carefully -- the flesh's inflamed but otherwise seems to be healing just fine, no infection setting in for now. It's a yellowing bruise that hurts with every breath Ren takes, but he's alive, so he takes it as a win. What about my shoulder? He asks, and Arsene grimaces. He dresses Ren's wound carefully, winds some of their precious gauze around it, before turning around for Ren's dagger. The persona presents it hilt-first, and Ren grabs it, kind of confused, before he sees his reflection on the smooth metal.

Ren freezes, tracing over the lighting-shaped patterns that burned themselves into (under?) his skin with a sharp intake of his breath. No wonder it hurt to move his neck; from his shoulder up to his eye, Ren looked as if he survived an encounter with the god of thunder. His eye was also harmed, swollen and flecked with red spots that would explain his wonky vision. "...I look a sight," he murmurs, too tired to feel angry at himself for once.

Thou survived, Arsene corrects.

First << >> Next

[kiaroscuro]

Title: as the world caves in

Warnings: descriptions of violence, major character death

Rating: Mature

Main Pairing: Ren Amamiya / Arsene

Main Tags: post-canon, zombie au, angst, hurt / comfort, road trips

Warning: gore

· · ─────── =^.^= ─────── · ·

Four days later has Ren finally finding success, body weary and battered. After continuing on further north-east, Ren's managed to track down three garuda, circling lethargically in the air until he attracted their attention, after which they started circling him like vultures. It had been raining for the past day, and Ren's soaked to the bone and dragged down by the weight of his clothes, but he doesn't stop his relentless pursuit of the mutated until he managed to clip the wings of two and dismember the third, his sniper rifle still hot and smoking at the muzzle before he hurriedly stoves it away next to his things -- hidden in a tangle of brambles.

He engages the bird-like shadows with his dagger and handgun, tries his best to wound and not kill, hopes that at least one of them has enough brainpower left to use a healing skill targeted at the group so that Ren can benefit from it.

He stumbles as one lunges for him, catching his side with its beak before they crash, and Ren has barely any time to ram up his gun to catch it before it tried to go for his neck, eyes empty. There's flowers lodged in its throat, the petals falling past the gun and onto his cheek with its saliva, and Ren closes one eye while he struggles to move the arm pinned underneath its foot, dagger in a reverse grip. The other two are approaching, one of them dragging itself on the ground because he'd gotten its leg, and Ren panics and rams his knee into the groin of the one that is trying to bite him, dislodging its foot before he guts it open, gore splattering into his front as it falls to the side, limp.

Ren breathes heavily, rattled, jumps to his legs before kneeling because he's out-of-breath, aiming his handgun for the head of the closest approaching one, the echoing bang-! loud in the silence of the forest. "...come on, heal yourselves...!" Ren mutters, clutching at his sluggishly bleeding side, vision growing wonky because of his exhaustion and the harsh rainfall. "Please," he adds, kind of helplessly. The gutted one is dying, he's blown out the brains of another, and only the one that was dragging itself along is still close to being 'fine' -- if they don't cast the spell, Ren will have to find others, and he doesn't think he can survive another week of stark silence without going completely mad.

The last garuda groans, drags itself close enough to Ren's side that he's readying his dagger already, before the soft glow of Amrita Drop surrounds it. Ren watches in fascination as some of the flowers seem to peel off of them, watches as wounds try and fail to close -- it's a spell against ailments and not physical injuries, after all, though it helps with alleviating pain -- and then finally feels it wash over himself.

Ren's breath gets struck in his throat as he waits, silently. A beat passes, then two--

static crackles in the air, a mazio unloading, and Ren's muscles tense as he watches in disbelief how the one-legged garuda shrieks as it rights itself up, pain visible in its dull eyes. He feels the electric-type damage wash over his skin, hyper-conducted through how wet he was, feels it travel over his shoulder and his shut eye and--

the static drops as quickly as it had appeared, and Ren curls into a ball with his forehead to the ground because his whole right side hurts, tears gathering in his eyes. Something sharp touches over his curled spine, but Ren's unresponsive, muscles spasming and side burning, his eye feeling as if it was cooked out of his skull. "Oh Ren..." Arsene's voice murmurs, low and sad but there. "...what stupid thing did thou do?" He asks, his claws pressing deeper against Ren's spine. Ren whines, fingers clutching deeper against his side, the pain making him delirious. But Arsene was there, Arsene was back, and --

Ren loses consciousness while he feels Arsene shift, feels the claws travel towards his chest and the persona's other hand towards his knees before he blacks out, welcoming the bliss of a painless silence.

--

He'd been able to see everything that kept happening to Ren as if through a kaleidoscope, impersonal and not-quite-there, sometimes missing hours if not days while he tried to stay aware, unable to interfere through the thick molasses of their addled mind, could do nothing but watch until Amrita Drop washed over them and broke Arsene free of the shackles, only to see his user--

Arsene sighs, cradling Ren closer to himself, the human's skin fevered with flush and bleeding from too many cuts and wounds. The persona had surveyed the grounds of slaughter before he'd carefully ambled over to where Ren's hidden his supplies, awkwardly grabbing everything and adjusting it onto his form without leaving his human out of his grasp, before he re-oriented himself into a north-east direction and started walking, his innate sense of direction as precise as a compass. Ren is burning up, whimpering at every movement, curling himself tighter against Arsene's chest in a feeble effort to feel safe even in his dreams, and Arsene mantles his wings over Ren to the best of his ability, the rain making the soft down stick together while it pearls off in rivulets. His fire burns low, a flickering thing while he continues forward, and he doesn't notice that he's thrumming in worry until Ren unconsciously smooths the palm of his hand over Arsene's chest as if to comfort him.

Warmth seeps into the persona at the connection point, something soft curving the line of his back, and he feels both incredibly fond and also unbelievably disgusted with himself, for not noticing the danger that the Nagoya settlement had turned into. Arsene chirrs softly when the rain turns to hail, glancing heavenwards and wondering where he should take Ren to, where there was a dry shelter the human could rest in. He's wary of any groups, be they human or shadow, would rather squirrel away his user and hide him from all of the hurt of the world.

The hail plinks against his mask, the break in his horn starting to smart from the cold, but Arsene soldiers on with his senses wide open and wonders.

An hour later something rustles to his right, the structure of the overgrown forest giving way to cliffs and sparser trees, conifers starting to dominate over the leafy ones. They're entering something of a more regular forest, the scent of magic subsiding as they pass whatever invisible border mother nature had decided was enough for her megafauna to terrorize, and Arsene can hear the soft chitter of regular animals instead of the groaning of the infected.

A shadow emerges from the tree-line, soaked through and with its armor in disarray, a little cat-shaped samurai. It is uninfected, but stares at Arsene as if he's the mutated one, though he probably showed a sight. "Greetings, shogun." Arsene says, inclining his head even while his claws tighten in the fabric of Ren's clothes and his wings press closer, until he can feel the hot fever past his feathers.

"Hullo. You're not sick," it says, eyes wary. Arsene nods.

"We wish you no harm; we're only seeking shelter," he murmurs, voice catching and throat smarting. Speaking loudly scrapes at his wounded throat, and he can feel blood and ichor amass behind the seams of his mask the more he speaks with the cat, doesn't know how much of it is physical and how much is psychological pain. But Ren needs somewhere dry so that Arsene could inspect his shoulder and his abdomen before the fever turns into an infection, so he will try.

The cat frowns, and something behind it moves, another neko shogun appearing. A nekomata follows, as does a bugbear and an alice, and Arsene finds himself tense as he notices that he's run into a rather large group of survivors. "Where are you headed?" The nekomata asks, one of her ears missing.

"To Tokyo."

"It's dangerous to cross over the forest. Stick to the human ruins." The first shogun says, and Arsene nods. The hail still falls, but it has stopped its relentless assault. Still; Ren's clothes are completely soaked.

"The city is in shambles, but there's survivors banding together everywhere, be they human or shadow." The nekomata continues, and his fire purses into a thin line.

"Thou've been there?"

She nods, tail swishing. She looks frightened, malnourished. "Near Odaiba. Everything went under when the bay expanded two months ago; I fled and ran into bugbear. It's a long way to Tokyo, and winter is close, avian. Now we only wish for a shelter where we'll not be separated."

He nods, aware of the impending winter that they hadn't managed to out-journey. "Stay as far away as ye can from Nagoya's settlement; it is a cannibalistic cult particularly unfriendly to shadows." Arsene shifts, clutches Ren closer to offer what little body warmth that he can, the steady rise and fall of his user's breath the only balm on their shared soul right now. "There's a camp near Tsu called Tsu-Aki that takes in shadows and humans alike." He offers, because these shadows had given him invaluable advice about the road ahead.  

The group glances at each other, before the nekomata and the shogun bow. Arsene inclines his head, thinking their amenable exchange over, but the alice speaks up next, her dress soaked dark and her hair cut uneven. "We've taken shelter inside an abandoned airplane wreck some two days' foot-journeyfrom here, further uphill. It's been rapidly overtaken by nature, but it should be a useful shelter to wait out the next few days of rain and hail." She eyes his wings. "It might be dangerous, but flying should cut you down to only a few hours. That human of yours looks to be in a bad shape."

Arsene stares. He's not used to kindness from strangers they encounter on the road, his own throat and broken horn a testament to that. "Thank you," he chokes out. The alice smiles softly, curtsies, and then they're off. Arsene hopes that they'll make it to Zenkichi, suddenly full of sentiment. He's not been in existence for even two years, though the past months feel like a whole lifetime. Some of these shadows are multiple times his senior, have seen the cruelty and whimsy of humanity in a way he as a persona never really has, and they still try to help Ren because he's cradling his human close. He wishes them the best before carefully shifting around the packs -- the backpack is resting awkwardly on his back, and Arsene's never been as glad that his wings set out from his lower back than now -- but he manages to somehow get airborne after a few embarrassing starts and sets out to find this airplane wreck in the hopes that it's at least somewhat dry.

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[kiaroscuro]

a rest in mementos, or: sometimes you gotta enjoy the quiet moments in life.

[kiaroscuro]

Title: as the world caves in

Warnings: descriptions of violence, major character death

Rating: Mature

Main Pairing: Ren Amamiya / Arsene

Main Tags: post-canon, zombie au, angst, hurt / comfort, road trips

Warning: attempted grooming, sort-of cannibalism

· · ─────── =^.^= ─────── · ·

"Don't forget your supplements," Takuto says, smiling easily. He hands Ren the vitamins, and Ren takes them, easily. He and Sumire are supposed to go hunting into the city ruins again today, and he bids the brown-haired man goodbye before setting out. Kasumi can't come with them that day, other obligations keeping her up.

--

Ren eats dinner in the company of Takuto and Sumire, the redhead leaning against the older man's side easily, tipsy from the fermented drink they've had the chance to try first before it will be shared at dinner tomorrow. "You really fit right in, Ren," he says with soft smiles, hands brushing against Sumire's bangs. "Sumire really needed some friends her age, she's such a wallflower, always."

Ren hums, feeling soft in the dwindling light of early autumn, insides like cotton candy.

--

Ren goes hunting with Sumire and Kasumi.

--

                    Ren goes hunting with Sumire and Kasumi.

Ren goes hunting with Sumire and Kasumi.

--

                    Ren goes hunting with Sumire and Kasumi.

                                Ren goes hunting with Sumire and Kasumi.

--

                                Ren goes hunting with Sumire and Kasumi.

Ren goes hunting with Sumire and

--

                                                                            Ren goes hunting with Sumire.

--

Mifune and Jean greet Ren as always, and Ren smiles back as the old woman hands him wrapped jerky for his excursion to pick out berries and fruit with Takuto, their dried herbs running low. He hurries up towards those soft brown curls and the easy smile, lets Takuto brush the back of a hand over his cheek before they're off. They run into a shadow, an enraged mithra that has adrenaline flood Ren's system before he takes it out, breathing heavily and -- wondering. About something missing.

Takuto has them take back the mithra to the settlement, where others come to stare at the kill, and then everyone cheers before they start a feast for the night. Ren is swept up in the activities, gets roped into decorating the main hall with Sumire, the autumn weather a gentle breeze. Kasumi smiles wanly at him when they pass each other, and they end up sitting at a table with Sumire and Takuto, easy smiles all around. Sumire hugs his arm, tightly, while their food is served -- some sort of roast, with the berries that Ren's picked today, and he feels warm all over.

Takuto gently tugs at Ren's chin, brushes a kiss against the side of his lips, all warmth and soft skin, Sumire smiling next to him before she hugs both of them close--

Ren's brain is all cotton and soft velvet, and he separates reluctantly when the food arrives, and he takes a bite of the roast before his stomach vividly dislikes the aftertaste of the thing. Ren feels like heaving, but he refrains, aware that it would be rude. He keeps eating, each bite worse than the previous, brows furrowed as to why -- usually he likes the food the settlement prepares, so what's wrong with it today? The meat is as tender as always, seasoned perfectly and smooth as butter in his mouth. Kasumi is staring at him with furrowed brows, but Ren doesn't notice as he watches the people around them, sees how they enjoy the food as someone a table over jokes about how they'd enjoyed the jatagu much more, and the insides of Ren's mouth turn to ash as he stares at his roast with horror. He doesn't notice Takuto call his name until a soft hand touches his shoulder, and Ren turns towards him only to be offered a fork full of roast, and Ren opens his mouth as if in a trance before the fork is pulled away, Takuto's soft smile making him unable to do anything but chew and then swallow the piece, even as he feels it sink heavily into his stomach.

Takuto smiles even softer, closes the gap between them to lick the juice off of Ren's lips, and then he turns towards Sumire and offers her a fork as well. Ren, still frozen, ducks his head to stare at his food, thoughts muddled for the rest of the evening. Ren retires to his cot, stares unblinkingly at his still-packed bags and tries to understand what had happened. The feast -- everyone had eaten-- the mithra that Ren had killed-- murdered, it hadn't even attacked him, had it? It's flesh had been served as dinner. He'd--

how many times had that happened...? The little omamori that Akane had made catches his eye, together with Mona's collar that he's stopped wearing sometime in the last few days, and the little custom PTofHearts button that Mishima had pushed into his hands before he'd left Tokyo.

Ren zeroes in on the button, cold washing over him.

"...Arsene...?" Ren tries, suddenly aware that he's stopped hearing his persona's voice after the first handful of days, after that one dinner in the past where he'd remarked that it had... tasted strange. "Oh god," Ren whispers, broken. Arsene? Pigeon, are you there?! I'msorry-forgiveme-where? He tries, unsuccessfully, lost in thought and a swirling of panic until footsteps register and Ren lunges for his dagger and turns it towards--

Kasumi.

They stare at each other, before the dark-haired girl breathes out in relief. "...you snapped out of it." She mutters, intruding in his personal space and making Ren scoot back. He stares at her, remembers all of her little tight glances and pursed lips.

"What is going on...?"

Kasumi's eyes are haunted. "Takuto Maruki has brainwashed every single member of this settlement. Sumire, Cendrillion and I had arrived with a different group three weeks into the cataclysm, but by then he's already had this cult going. It didn't even take him two weeks to enthrall us." She clenches her fists, and Ren stares at her in horror. "I don't know how they do it, but Takuto and his council managed to extract poison from the plants surrounding us. Mixed with berries and food, or even as those 'vitamins' -- they make people forget. And the shadow-based food is addictive."

Now that Ren's mind isn't cottoned over, he can see the truth of her words, can notice how even now his mouth craves the varying dishes he's eaten, finally figured that he's been feeling sick because the mithra's affinity was bless. He stares at Kasumi, wan. "...who is... Cendrillion?"

Real grief enters her eyes. "She was our protector -- a persona from Sumire's soul. You should know about them -- I saw you glance over your shoulder the same way Sumire used to do, before she forgot that Cendrillion existed. Before you forgot." Kasumi shakes her head. "Listen, Ren -- I know how to get you out, but you have to hurry. Snow's going to fall soon, and if you wait any longer you'll be stuck her for who knows how many months. Please."

He stares at her, tries to reach for Arsene again, fingers clenching. "...what about you and Sumire?" He asks at last, tries to not think about how Takuto-- "oh god, he's grooming her," Ren whispers, things slotting into place. He still remembers Ann and Shiho and Kamoshida, remembers how worried Kawakami-sensei had been about doing the same thing to Takase after being pressured by her late student's guardians.

"Sumire isn't the only one that Takuto has been trying to groom." Kasumi whispers, and Ren feels sick all over, remembers how he'd gotten closer to the older man over the past few-- weeks. "You have to leave. He noticed how uncomfortable you were at dinner, it won't be long until he increases the dosage of the poison."

He stares at her, at her resolve, and feels his heart crumble. "What about you and Sumire?"

Kasumi sighs, bitter. "He thinks I'm influenced and I won't leave without my sister, but she's too lost in Takuto's ideologies to leave. I had hoped that talking to you could snap her out of it, but instead you got pulled in-- I'm sorry. Now follow me."

--

There's a gap in the fencing close to the crops, and Ren is laden down with his backpack, shoulderbags and fanny pack -- just how he'd arrived -- still unable to feel Arsene's presence. It's the first week of November already. He's spent over a month inside Takuto's settlement and hadn't even noticed. Kasumi is hugging him tightly, shivering because the air was becoming colder now. Ren hugs back, just as desperate. "...there's a hidden radio broadcast at 13.8 HZg set up by Zenkichi Hasegawa and his daughter; tap in if you ever need help, and tell them that Ren and Arsene sent you." He murmurs, mind running. He didn't want to leave Kasumi and Sumire behind, but he can't stay any longer.

Ren steps through the gap, eyes his friend over one last time. She's given him a ribbon to remember them by, and Ren's wound it around his arm right now, the same one that Arsene had cauterized weeks ago. It smarts, and that reminds Ren of something. Now that his own mind isn't that addled anymore, he's been able to think again. "...go on a hunting party into the city; look if there are vending stations or stores left with any Amrita Soda, it can heal forgetfulness. Or try to bake strawberry daifuku, it has the same effect -- only on persona users though, to my knowledge."

Her eyes are big. "Thank you," she whispers, and then closes the gap from her side, leaving Ren alone. He takes in a deep breath and hurries away, not even daring to take out his light in fear of alerting the night guards. He stumbles over vines and plants and discarded weapons, runs deeper into the forest the opposite of Nagoya, past the markers that the settlement had put down to mark the end of their territory.

Ren continues onward until his legs and lungs are burning, until the woodlands become sparse and he can hear the soft noise of the mutated shuffling around. Ren stops, hands on his thighs as he bends over and starts dry-heaving, shuddering. He's disoriented when he stands back up again, and there's a mutated shadow in front of him, a shiisha that's crackling zio with empty eyes. Ren tenses, unclips his handgun from his side, and fires. There's plants sprouting out of one of its eyes, green and yellow veins running over its neck and front legs.

He misses, whole body shuddering, and then the shiisha lunges at him and Ren curses. He manages to wrench it away after it bit into his leg, takes the second where it's stunned to get his dagger before he plunges it into the infected shadow, doesn't let go until he can hear it's skull crack. Once that is over and done with, Ren breathes out, left back to the stillness of the forest.

...Arsene? he tries again, and curses. Eyes the corpse of the shiisha.

...he has to find a shadow that knows Salvation or Me Patra or Amrita Drop if he wants to be able to contact Arsene again, doesn't he?

(Ren doesn't even entertain that Arsene could be lost to him, doesn't think he could keep going if the persona was gone after everything they'd endured. Ren still has to apologize to the pigeon, after all.)

...the only shadow he knows that exists in the region with the correct skills is garuda, which is a bother because encountering them is difficult.

Still. Ren takes a deep breath and sets off, pushing every other worry to the side until Arsene is safe and sound.

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