middaeg | [open] are you a man or a monster?

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[open] are you a man or a monster?

Who: Rean and you!
When: The night of August 25th-26th
Where: Various places in the city
What: Rean is going feral!!!!!! Please see this post for more information.
Warnings: This ought to be a T rating! There will be violence, blood, probably some light gore I guess, uh, some choice language most likely.

[I. the coven]

[Something draws Rean to the area of the Coven. He was already close due to the place he's been staying at, but now he is much closer, and he can't think of anything but the ache in his chest. He doesn't have the demon power-- does he? He's not so sure anymore, not with the aggression he's been feeling over minor, daily things. He's tried his best to shove it down so he doesn't worry his friends, and he knows that's a dumb thing to do but he can't help it, he just-- wants this all to stop. He wants it all to go away. And no matter how much he says he's accepting the changes...

The truth is-- sorry, Elliot-- that every time he looks in the mirror and sees that he's traded nails for talons, hair for the fluffiest feathers, he just hates himself. He's a monster and not even in the obvious physical way, because he can't reach out to the people around him and he can't come to terms with what he is.

There's something in his back and he's sure they're going to be wings at some point soon. The pain is agonizing, but it's nothing compared to the sharp daggers of loneliness he feels when he thinks about how he'd tried to form temporary bonds and failed miserably. All he ever does is hurt people. All he ever, ever does is bring ruin to the people around him. But he loves them and he wants to protect them, so he's just-- here, existing, stuck in some awful limbo he never saw himself being in two years ago.

He gazes up at the shadows of the Coven headquarters, and his vision shifts, and he finds himself climbing on top of it. It isn't high enough. He realizes this as he scampers to the top, a sort of half-aware thought. There are more important things, like getting a better look of the land. Is this his territory? Not quite, but he doesn't see any other Monsters right now. If anything, he's...

... kind of hungry, actually.

He watches for shadows, movement in the dark grounds below, not caring how obvious he is. He's on the hunt. Rean-the-human has officially checked out, and Rean-the-harpy is on the move.]

[II. the parliament]

[His search for high places leads him, of course, to the clock tower above Parliament. He leaps from roof to roof with an unsteady grace, a bird that cannot yet fly. But he manages it, even when his talons dig into the shingles of a roof and he makes an ungodly noise as he slips down the side. He catches himself on the gutter and hauls himself back up, and then he makes a flying leap for the actual Parliament building-- only to find himself turned back away quite bodily by some kind of ward. He winces, pulls back, tries again. It's-- hard to describe, something both physical and like a screeching in his head and he hates it, growling and snarling at his inability to approach the building and climb to the top like he wants to. Fucking magic. Maybe he wants to eat it. Maybe he should.

He's mad. He heads for the nearest second story balcony and starts throwing stuff off it, because he can.]

[III. the haven]

[At last he grows tired of these shenanigans and wants to return home to his nest. He hates the people following him, hates that he hurts, hates hates hates. There is something that he needs to protect but he's forgotten what it was, so he defaults to his territory, and heads back to the residential district he's taken up a nest in. Only it's not his normal place but somewhere much much higher-- a mansion belonging to some well-to-do witch family. It seems delicious to him, being a feral Monster, and it's also high enough that he can nestle right there between two spires that just happen to be above their son's room.

It's not hard to find Rean, honestly, with an agitated family screaming in fear and frustration at anyone who will listen. Nor is he trying to hide-- he's just hauling soft stuff up to the roof so he can curl up on it, and uh, incoherently snarling and roaring at anyone who comes close.

He's also filched some shiny things to decorate his nest, like a metallic mirror, a few blown glass charms to hang from the spires above him, and a pile of shiny silver coins.]

[ooc: Please see the info post for permissions etc before threading a fight with Rean. Also if you have any questions, my contact info is

fonfabre // fonfabre#0318 @ discord. Thanks!]

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[Many nights, Towa stays late. It's a familiar routine from a far-off-world that makes living in a different place and time feel more like home. And after being forced to take a break, good reason or no, she's impatient to get back to her studies. She finally felt like she was on the verge of accomplishing something that would make it possible for her to support her friends the way she wanted to so badly. It felt good to be this close. That's why even though most of the others have retired for the evening, she's still here, still working.

And she's not hard to spot; the magical discharge of her newly functioning gun spitting off various lights before crashing into the targets she set up on the grounds. Her aim has improved, although her hands still shake at times.

In the back of her mind she feels something. While she thought she was alone, perhaps that wasn't the case. For the safety of anyone that might be, she puts her gun down and looks around. Why she suddenly has this anxious feeling in her gut... she doesn't know, but she doesn't think she wants to ignore it, even if she could.]

...hello? Is someone there?

[Rean is wearing black, which makes his dark feathers-for-hair something of an added blessing. The only thing that sticks out are brief glimpses of his skin catching the waning moonlight-- and then he's slinking back into the shadows of a roof, watching the girl who is familiar yet not, and wondering about the shiny thing in her hand. He tilts his head as she calls out. He doesn't call back, but he does come closer.

Rather than use the ground like a normal person, he hops onto a nearby stone fence and clings to one of the metallic spikes on the top. He's obvious now, a moving target, if not a familiar one. He kind of wants her gun. But he also wants her to leave.

What to do...

He'll just stare at her with wide, wild eyes for the time being, talons clicking against the metal of the upper part of the fence.]

[At first she thinks that perhaps she imagined it, maybe her ears were playing tricks on her. In the darkness she can see nothing but shimmers that could just as easily be fixtures of the nearby buildings.

Then... there's movement, and her breath catches in her throat for a moment.

Not for fear of some unknown thing. Rather, what worries her is that it is someone familiar, acting in a very unnatural way. She knows in her gut that something is very wrong. But this is Rean. Despite the strange behavior, despite the silence-- it's still Rean. She can't just leave him.

And against all better judgment, she refuses to fear him.]

Oh... Rean. You startled me for a moment.

[A deep breath and she's able to smile as she would any other time. But her mind is racing. What's going on? What can she do? She follows his gaze, sees the interest in her gun. Alright. Fine. Maybe she can get him to come down here that way.]

...If you want it, you can have it you know.

[She's talking to him. There are... words? They don't sound angry. Maybe she doesn't... understand. This is his territory now. He does hop closer, so there's that, but as he gazes down at her without recognition in his features, the feathers visible along his shoulders and neck and hair all begin to rise-- the hackles of a territorial, threatened bird.

He opens his mouth. What comes out is a snarl more than a screech, but certainly not a voice Rean usually uses on Towa of all people.]

Lleaaaaaave. Leave! Leeeaaave.

[Well this is going to be quite a mess. She's new to this, but she's pretty sure this isn't how it's supposed to go. This could be a real concern. Not that she needed a reason to stand her ground when Rean's involved. It could be dangerous. Not that she isn't armed, but-- that's not really an option here.]

If that's how you're going to ask, then the answer is no.

[Her calm attempt at sass aside, she holds out the gun. If he's willing to come closer, she might have a chance of being able to talk to him. Reason with him. She's not giving up.]

[He leans forward as if he'll step off the fence, but then he changes his mind and gives a low warbly noise like a territorial corvid would. (What else did you expect?) His feathers seem to move with the proclamation, but it's not in a language she would understand.

She's in his territory. He wants the gun. He wants her to leave. He can't have both.

He glares again for a moment, and then he hops off the fence so he can circle her, judging her. There's something predatory in it for sure-- and the complete absence of anything Rean in those eyes. He's hungry and frightened and angry.]

[No, even she knows that the look in his eyes isn't anything like the Rean she knows. But she's not naive enough to believe that she knows every part of Rean, either. As hard as everyone tries to support him unconditionally, there are still things he puts behind walls to face all on his own. And even more still, there are parts of him that have changed just existing in this world.

But whatever part of him this is, it's still Rean in there, deep down inside.

She takes a step towards him-- and then another. Each step a little more firmly grounded than the last. It occurs to her that this is bad. Dangerous, even. But that's all the more reason she can't leave him alone right now. If he's lost himself somehow, someone has to make sure he doesn't do anything to hurt himself or others.

Towa takes a deep breath. She has to do something. But even for this, she could never bring herself to fight him. So there's only one thing that she might be able to do. And that's try to reach him somehow.]

...sorry. This kind of unreserved behavior isn't like me at all, but even so-- I... I want to stay with you!

[Enough to take the risk of trying to reach for him.]

[Towa is so, so sweet and when this nightmarish blackout ends he will regret everything he did. But for now, he's gone-- spiritually sequestered away, unable to cope with his own actions in any world. The instinctive Harpy is what remains, and it sees Towa reaching toward him and thinks she might be casting a spell.

He moves... fast. Faster than he has any right to be. And he launches himself directly at her like a feathery bullet, aiming to throw her to the ground and pin her with his claws around her neck and his knees in the dirt.]

[Right now she can only wish that he won’t remember this— not just because she said something embarrassing but because she knows just how much he’ll agonize over it when she wishes he wouldn’t.

It’s all too easy really. She doesn’t mean to fight him and she’s pitifully weak in comparison. Her head hits the ground hard and for a moment her vision blurs. She might be pushing her luck too far, but— she can take it. Better her than someone else. She reaches up and puts a gentle hand on the side of his face. She’s very much in danger, the pressure of his claws around her neck a very good reminder that she’s at his mercy. She’s scared— but she’s not scared of Rean. She’s scared that she might not be capable of reaching him, that she can’t help him.]

It’s... okay... if you’re mad, if you’re hurting... it’s okay. You can share that with me. You don’t have to fight it alone.

[He isn't really trying to strangle her so much as hold her down, but she doesn't struggle at all and it makes his interest wane a bit. She was a threat to his territory but now she's just a... prop. Albeit a delicious one if his nose is working correctly...

It's her touch that startles him. He doesn't let go, just acts reflexively to bite into the fleshy palm of her hand.

Oh.

Oh.

Something about the tang of blood wakes him up almost instantly, his eyes widening, ruffled feathers receding slightly. But before he can register anything else he pulls back with a snarl, leaves her hand a bloody mess that needs stitches but otherwise intact.

He's scared. Scared and hurting, like she said. And now he wants to throw up, reviled and stricken as he is. This can't be happening. It-- it can't--

He hurls himself backwards, still with some blood on his chin, and he scampers for the nearest wall so he can climb it and run. She might be able to catch him with some quick thinking, but it might also be good to let the others know what's happened and where he's headed.]

[Instinctively she tries to reach for him, but she's too slow, he's already gone, even as she's already calling out to him.]

Wait! Don't go--!!

[Towa struggles to get up; the air stinging her open wound as she tries her best to ignore the pain and the bleeding. It's worse when she puts pressure on it to force herself back to her feet. The grass and dirt grind against it, and she knows she's going to have to get it looked at soon. But she doesn't have time to think about those things now. If she hesitates, more people could suffer and Rean would suffer all the more for it.

Although she follows him to a certain extent, she knows that in this state she probably can't climb after him.

There may be another way around though-- she should look. But first she should warn the others. Before even that though, she follows Rean far enough to yell. Whether that recognition he'd shown remained or not, she makes one last thing very clear.]

Even if you run away, I'm going to find you! And I'm going to bring you back! I promise!!

[After the dream, anxiety and trauma followed a lot of the Monsters home. Fang dealt with it how she always did—by pretending it didn't bother her, and to keep moving through her resulting restlessness.]

[So the turnskin prowled (or patrolled endlessly, she could hardly tell the difference) about the city as way to work off her energy. Even though the full moons were behind them, she did so shifted, as a dark-furred jaguar... if jaguars had slightly too-long limbs, forepaws that were almost hands, and still adorned themselves with beaded bangles.]

[The first thing Rean throws nearly hits her; a potted plant crashes into the street beside her. A small wooden stool collides with Fang's shoulder as the feline looks upward, growling.]

The hell do you think you're doing?!

[Her voice was always rougher, shifted like this, far more gravelly than it normally was. Her tail lashed twice dangerously.]

[He doesn't even see her, so the aim is kind of impressive or she's just an easy target. He doesn't register her at first, just pulls down someone's thick curtain through a broken French door and wraps it about himself, and then he glares down at the street. There's someone down there... and she looked like a Monster.

Doubly a threat to his territory then. The black feathers about his head and neck rise a bit like a bird trying to make itself bigger. He opens his mouth to bellow a challenge.

It is... not in any language anyone would understand. Something more like:]

Rrrrrrghghhhghhhh!

[Sure dude.]

Edited 2019-09-04 07:02 (UTC)

[The angry screech conveyed the, well, anger well enough, and the body language itself was loud and clear to another Monster with territorial urges. As much as Fang loves rising to challenges, the Monster part urges her to keep moving. This was not her territory.]

[But the difference between them was that moons were waning, and her Bond kept her head clear. The instincts were mere background noises; Fang could recognize the symptoms of feral madness for what it was.]

[She shouldn't leave him be, then. Her own hackles rise, the low rolling growl of jaguar rising with them. A paw-hand reaches up to leave a long scratch in a nearby crate—as if marking it as her own territory. Really, she's just doing her best to provoke the harpy away from the balcony with every bit of territory posturing she can think of. It's a lot harder to do something about him when he's way up there.]

[Well, that's one way to get his attention. His violet-red eyes widen as he watches her claw across that crate. Though some instinctual part of him ought to fear the Turnskin, he doesn't; he is a young Harpy and with all the aggression and stupid cockiness that deserves. And that means... well, he's not thinking straight.

A grounded bird is a dead bird, but he is sort of in-between and neither. He is, however, stupid enough to take a flying leap off the balcony and try to claw her shoulder. Whatever the result, his landing is cushioned by a brief use of wind magic.]

[Well. That was easy. Fang twists and rears up, and his talons glance her shoulder, enough to leave nasty scratches; she's more focused on being in a good position for a follow-up than avoiding his leap.]

[As the harpy lands, Fang pounces, both striking downward at Rean's own shoulder and trying to get her weight over him to pin the feathered menace to the ground.]

[For whatever reason (dumb bird that he is) he's surprised that she's fighting back so hard, not running or cowering like the others. She's also fast, maybe even faster than he is. Her claws get his shoulder and rake through his clothes-- that'll need mending later-- and he roars with some very inspired rage.

But he's on his back before he can counter it, a pounce being a pounce, and this only further inspires him to be more of a wild thing. He struggles and he flails, teeth gnashing as he tries to get his knees between them.]

[Even if she outweighs the harpy and had advantageous leverage, there was always something about mindless ferocity that made any sized creature difficult to pin down. Fang's stomach certainly doesn't appreciate his attempt to get his legs between them, with all the knees she's taking as a result.]

[Growling, and trying not to shift off of Rean as a result of his struggling, Fang struggles to keep her paw-hands on his shoulder.]

Stay still!

[Damn it all. She really didn't want to knock this guy out, but he seems pretty lost to the madness...]

[Stay still? Sounds like something that a non-feral completely reasonable person would say. Maybe in time he will apologize profusely but right now he's just a wild thing that doesn't want to be pinned down.

So he does the next best thing if he can't flip her. He twists, and then he tries to sink his teeth into her arm.

This is staying still right?]

[Ow, that little—]

[With a deep rolling growl, one paw-hand leaves his shoulder to clench low around his throat aiming to cut off his blood flow, not to crush his windpipe. Granted, it weakens her overall grip on the feathered menace to do so.]

[It's a damn shame that Monsters couldn't pass magic to other feral Monsters, not like unbonded Witches could. Fang would have to settle for trying to knock him unconscious, even for a moment. She'd heard from the Coven that hard resets help, if very briefly.]

[As much as he tries not to care about anything going on that doesn't concern him, Shinjiro does still occasionally let his curiosity get the best of him. And with a wild scene down one of the streets on his way back home, of course he's going to nose in and get a look.

A distraught family, yelling about something feral, panicking out loud and wondering if it's someone infected with cwyld, or whatever else, angrily pointing up at the pile of crap on the roof of their house, and backing away in fright when a puffed-up Harpy starts making his way back towards the building on careful talons, carrying whatever new piece he's found up there.

And honestly, there's a temptation to just leave. But the guy doesn't look like the local harpies he's seen around-- the natives tend to have huge wings, and fly around from roof to roof, if possible. This one looks half-formed... which means he's likely a mirrorbound, just like Shinjiro.

Shinjiro, at least, hasn't had too many changes crop up so far, and aside from being kind of shaggy around the edges, is still pretty human passing. And so he probably doesn't stand out so much as he sighs and approaches where Rean is dragging more things back to his nest, cutting off the clearest route and standing fixed in place. And from what he can see of the man's expression and eyes, he's... not sure how much communication will really work.]

Y'know, you're making the rest've us look bad. [It's dryly pointed out as he tilts his head, looking over the harpy. No visible weapons, but that didn't mean shit. The talons looked nasty. His eyes are kind of wild-- but hey, guess he'll just see what happens.]

There's plenty've places for you to squat in over in the haven, how 'bout leaving them alone.

[Rean isn't expecting someone to approach him like this, not after a couple hours of essentially building this beautiful, glorious nest on top of the highest building in the residential district. But here he is, some guy he's never seen before, and he doesn't have that same kind of magical thing about him that makes Rean immediately hungry. Part of him kind of wants a taste anyway though. He wonders in a vague, birdlike way how best to crack him open, like one would a walnut. Drop him from high up? Oh, but his wings aren't working yet.

Rean still has a hold of his newest prize, someone's gaudy as fuck windchimes, and he tilts his head almost upside down as he tries to size up the enemy here. He takes a step to the left. A step to the right. His shoulders rise and fall as he breathes in, and then a low and guttural noise rumbles forth, not a dragon's growl but the warning of a corvid. His hackles rise along with the fluff of his hair and what has spread down his shoulders beneath his collar... He'll deal with getting that thing off later. (That thing, of course, being a black shirt.)

His lips pull back around his teeth. Maybe that wasn't enough. He growls a single word.]

Llleeaaave...!

[This is his territory. His nest. His gorgeous, beautiful whatever the fuck this thing is.

You can't have it.]

Edited 2019-09-04 07:10 (UTC)

[Rean's head tilting nearly 180 probably should have been his first indication that this was A Mistake. But Shinjiro has never been one to back down from a bad idea, so he just... watches that side-to-side shuffle, the adjustment of arms over whatever garish, metallic object he's clutching close to himself.

And so his brows lift up, slightly hidden behind his mess of bangs, as he watches this display. Man, what a pain.]

Yeah, from what I hear, the people over there've been saying that to you for a while.

[Another casual step to the side keeps him at the same distance to Rean, but slightly more between him and returning to the house. At least he can buy some time for the witches to.... who knows what. Get the coven down here? Cops? He has no idea whose responsibility this is, but he does know it'll be easier if this guy stays on the ground.]

You can even keep that bullshit you're holding onto, how 'bout that.

[Rean is absolutely a pain, but he's going to feel terrible about this in a while and probably try to do something to make up for it. For now, though-- he's content to screech. He doesn't care if those people want him gone, this is his territory now and if they won't fight him for it then he wins.

So deal with it.

He notices that Shinjiro is standing between him and the house, and he contemplates just leaping right over his head with his magic, but he's still not very good with it yet. It's fine. And he will keep this shiny bullshit, thanks. He sets it down by his feet and dusts it off awkwardly.

Then he glances back at Shinjiro, the corner of his eye-- and he whirls and charges to tackle him like a football player. There's no warning, really, and no finesse in the attack. He just wants to knock this jackass in the beanie onto his ass.]

[He probably should have expected this. The guy is clearly not in his right mind, seeing as he's stealing and roosting and squawking at people, hair/feather's ruffled up in clear defiance. So of course talking wouldn't do much except buy some time for someone else to show up and step in-- and what time talking didn't fill, apparently fighting would.

What he didn't expect, though, is how fast the guy is. The leaping charge, looking to bodily take him to the ground. With a grunt, he's knocked back-- but used the proximity to grab Rean's shoulders and make sure he's coming down with him.

He's no stranger to stupid brawls, after all. While he could usually avoid them on the street, or shut them down quick enough, there's always a certain kind of person (akihiko, for example) who just won't give up. And he's assuming the harpy's feral brain will be the same. So even before he hits the ground hard on his back, he's pulling Rean in sharply to try and use that gravity and momentum to pull him straight into a solid headbutt.

Fuck finesse.]

[Shinjiro has a pretty good read on the situation, all things considered. Though Rean has training as a soldier, he's without his usual weapon of choice, and he wasn't all that scrappy of a kid either. There's just a difference between testing your sword on hostile wildlife and getting beaten up behind the movie theater, and Rean was definitely the former.

So he's grabbed and dragged down, squawking indignantly as he goes, and then he finds out how hard that skull is personally. It stuns him for a moment so he loses his balance, but his claws are still a danger, and he tries to rake them over Shinjiro's chest. Part harpy, part Tasmanian devil apparently.]

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[open] are you a man or a monster?

the coven

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II

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sorry this is so late!!

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3 !

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whew sorry this is so late ;;

It's all good! I was out of town anyway lol.

I hope it was a good trip!