[ open ] wenn man nichts im kopf hat wozu werden helme gebraucht?

[battlebound]

Who: Steak and OPEN
When: Throughout the month
Where: And throughout the city / outside the city
What: Quests to be done, general havoc to cause, etc.
Warnings: Steak is an impulsive idiot. Also full moon horrors.


1— out of the city; combat

[ This is nothing new to Steak, not simply because he was here last month, but because — as anyone who has had the poor fortune to speak to him will probably know — he was built for this. His kind exists to do this, though there are those who aren't quite as attuned to the thrill of battle as Steak himself is. Even without his signature shield, without the flames he can produce as his swords slice through the hair, he moves through a fight as easily as his signature element would tear through woods and forests.

Red Wine is somewhere else at the moment, fighting something else, and while a headache has been plaguing Steak for days, neither of these things slow him down — if anything, he seems to push himself harder, arms burning from the effects of prolonged battle.

It's fine. He's fine. This is what he's made for, after all. And this damn headache — the one which stems out from the base of his horns, where anyone who isn't a complete stranger will notice that they've begun lifting away from his face and curving back, pointing to the sky rather than in front of him — is not going to change that.

Red eyes glance sharply to the shape to his left as the beast shifts in that direction. ] Move!

[ Whether whoever is there defends themselves or runs, he doesn't mind, but if neither happen, he's already darting forward to try and block the oncoming attack. ]

2— out of the city; resting

[ But not everything can be fighting. Even if Steak, by all rights, does not need to eat or drink, he still needs to rest. He rolls his shoulders back as he stretches his arms above his head and groans — a hot bath would be excellent right now but there's still work to do.

Well. When he gets back then. For now, he strolls up and down the outer city street, tired but unwilling to properly still himself just yet. As he comes across anyone from the group, even despite the obvious signs of battle, he straightens up and nods in greeting. ]

Do you need help?

3— many man's trash;

[ Another day, another job. Steak may find his greatest purpose in battle, but these little things around the city are just as important. He doesn't quite understand what the greater context of this late year cleaning is, but cleaning up the city can only ever be good for the residents of it, so his acceptance of this job is without thought or question.

He's quite happy to tidy up the mess in the poorer districts, moving pieces of junk into boxes and hefting those boxes away with the kind of ease granted to an unaging magical construct, even going to far as to hum under his breath as he works. All is fine.

... Or, at least, all is fine until he catches a man brazenly tossing more rubbish into a spot he'd just cleaned. Irritation which has nothing to do with that continuous headache (nor the itching of those strange patches of cow hide hidden under his jacket) flares up as quickly as a bull seeing someone waving a cloth around.

What the hell are you doing?!

Unfortunately for this man, and everyone in the nearby vicinity, Steak is the type to say something if he sees something, and confused indignation answers Steak's demand, which does nothing but frustrate him further.

If you're feeling particularly kind — or perhaps just fed up — maybe it's time to step in, while Steak explains to this bastard that the street is not is personal rubbish tip.

Or maybe you just want to put a few coins on Steak getting punched before the day is over. That's fair too. ]

4— full moon;

[ By now, the changes can't be ignored. He hides the hide patches which find little spots on his shoulders and the back of his neck with his coat and top, but the horns are impossible to ignore. He frowns at his reflection in his mirror at the house he and Red Wine use, at the way they now curve back from his skull, rising into the air.

(He'd appreciate the extra height it gives him over his bastard fellow knight if it didn't look so wrong—)

In and of itself, these new, bullish traits, feel more like a terrible joke. Some way to further his point that he is the Food Soul representing Steak. In and of itself, he can almost live with the patches of hide he disguises, or the screeching headache of moving horns.

But then the full moon creeps closer, and the patches slide further down his body, against hipbones and legs, itching and raw as his skin transforms into slick, freckled patches which glisten under light and dry all too fast. He grimaces as his trousers scrape against the soft new flesh, each step through the city bringing this unpleasant new development to the forefront of his mind.

He doesn't realise how long he's wandered the city aimlessly, biting his tongue and avoiding people, until the night descends, the full moon bright and every transformation itching and aching. His hips burn with the sharpness of sudden growths, tentacles twisting and turning their way out of his body with such speed he doesn't even notice his legs buckling until it's too late and his hands are clawing the ground, dirt coating his fingers, burying itself into his fingernails as fabric tears, barely audible over the screeching protests of his body.

He gasps, forehead pressed against cold, damp riverbank, and his new appendages reach for the water, for their home and something in Steak roars in protest. Quite audibly, too, as he tries to grasp for the remnants of what he's always known. He is Steak. He is a Food Soul. He isn't meant to be an abomination like this, with tentacles and horns and a thirst—

A whisper he's never had to worry about, one which quickly becomes a shriek;

Just give in.

He forces himself off the ground with a roar, with a clatter of his swords as they dislodge from the nest of new limbs and find themselves discarded in the soil, and finds the trunk of the nearest tree, hands beating against it, drumming out a tuneless call to anyone nearby.

There's something here. ]

5— wildcard;

[ got something else you want to do? feel free to hit me up at isanghae#8071 / isanghae and we can work something out! ]

Comments

full moon

[thejoyrider]

[It was not until her second full moon in Aefenglom that Marie fully realized how lucky she was to find a Bond so early. Of course, the season still affected her. Not knowing what to expect, she spent her first full moon in her house, curled up in her room for most of the time as she experienced her first changes. Mist incident happening around that time did not help in making her feel safe outside anyway.

This month was different though, she felt more secure and decided to at least attempt her usual activities. So here she was, taking a walk around the city while doing her best to ignore the magic pulsing under her skin like a bad case of migraine, the sharp pain in her eyes that feels like daggers under her eyelids and what she is pretty sure is a fever or at least feels like one.

However, that was still relatively minor compared to what could have been. She did not get feral. She had full control of herself or at least it felt so. Thanks for Bonds, others wee probably not taking it as well.

Speaking of which... is that a person over there, by the tree? She cannot see clearly, her eyesight blurred by pain and the transformation going on in her eyes, but she has to check.]

Is... someone there?

[battlebound]

[ Steak is a stubborn one. Perhaps it's something about his namesake food being made from beef, or simply the fact that he took after his first Master Attendant, but he's stubborn and resisting this city's way of life, as though ignoring it will mean he doesn't have to deal with it.

If he opened his eyes a little bit, stopped scoffing at the magic of this place and prepared himself a bit, he might not be in this predicament, where the effects of the moon weren't tearing at his consciousness as harshly as it tears through his body. The tendrils around his waist raise and flare through the air, as restless as the rest of his body and mind as it transforms, itching, itching...

But for what? That's the most infuriating part of it all, that groundless desire for action he can't fulfill.

And then there's a voice, an unfamiliar one, one which has him freezing, torn between a dark fury which has laid claim to this space for tonight and that inner voice which is driven by the servitude ingrained in all Food Souls.

What is he becoming? Slowly, he drags himself forward, away from the tree, head throbbing in agony with each step as he tries to find the person who spoke.

For what... Steak doesn't know. ]

[thejoyrider]

[Marie feels sick and she is sick, but she is determined not to let it show, at least for as long as she can. There definitely is a person there, even if she cannot see them clearly. This was not a feverish vision. Probably.

She stops for a moment. Maybe it would be a better idea to run away? After all, she had no idea who this person was and what they were. The memory of an encounter with Mist-affected harpy crosses her mind. This could potentially be fatal to her, this person could be aggressive and as much as she does not want to admit it, she is in no shape to fight back.

But she could not just leave them like this, whether they were real or projected by her imagination. This was not thought out very well, but she is hardly in the shape to make logical decisions.]

Who are you? Can you hear me? Can you... understand what I am saying?

[The shape of the person she was talking to becomes clearer as she approaches them. A Monster in the middle of their transformation, most likely a Chimera or maybe a Dragon or a Turnskin? It did not really matter.]

[battlebound]

[ The voice cuts through the pain, through the smog of anger that stirs within him. It cuts down to his suffocating conscience, clear enough that Steak finds a moment to speak through the pain of it all. ]

Go!

[ The single word tears out of his throat, forced out before it has a chance to be choked by the thing overtaking his mind.

Go. Go because he has no idea what this change is doing to him, and for once in his near-eternal life, Steak can't trust himself. He can't trust this form and how it's affecting him.

(And he wonders, is this how Red Wine has felt all these years? Like there's something in the back of his mind trying to take over?) ]

[thejoyrider]

[She should really listen to him and run, especially after he used what might have been the last bits of his strength to warn her. However... the fact that he did have enough strength to even do this in the first place made it impossible for Marie to abandon him here]

I cannot leave you here! You are sick...

[Why did nobody from the Coven tell her what to do in these kind of situations when she arrived? Surely that would have been more useful than some of what she has been taught... What should she do, should she run and get some help? Would she even have enough strength on her own? If only she was a Witch...]

[battlebound]

[ She won't go, and Steak's teeth grind hard enough that the pain distracts him from the transformation at his waist. What if he attacks her?

Yes, what if— that's the voice again, the one he needs to shut up before anything worst happens, and Steak shudders, flexing his hands and breathing. He is not a Fallen. No. This is just... this world's curse, and has nothing to do with that particular aspect of Tierran life.

(No matter how unnervingly familiar this particular form is shaping to be.) ]

I— [ His voice sounds strange to him now, raw from shouting and muffled by the now dulling pains of new growths ] ...I don't want to hurt you.

[ But can he be sure he won't?

Once upon a time, he would have said yes. But now... ]

[thejoyrider]

[When one does not have the necessary training from the Coven, what can one do but improvise? First, she needed to calm him down somehow. They both could use a calmer environment.]

I know. Nobody will be hurting anyone here, okay?

[Marie grabs the edge of her dress and tears off a chunk of decorative fabric. The dress was already dirty but now she made the damage irreparable - ah well, who cares. Maybe once all of this passes, a Witch would be able to restore her outfit to its proper state, but now she did not have time to worry about that.]

Please sit down... or lie down... We have to do something about this fever...

[She dampens the piece of fabric in a nearby puddle. The water was dirty but at least it was cool, so as long as it does not touch any open wounds, it could be helpful for bringing down the fever]

[battlebound]

[ Is he hot, or is it just his natural body temperature? Honestly, Steak can't tell. But he's grateful for the cloth at any rate — it can lie cool against his forehead after days of his horns forcing themselves into a new shape.

But first, he tries to force himself onto drier lands, though tender new tentacles object to being removed from an environment they find comfortable. Only once the ground shifts from the slurp of mud to the roll of soil underneath his boots does Steak collapse to the ground with a groan that's more exhaustion than actual pain.

This is absurd. He's no fallen, no monster. ]

... Thank you.

[ The words are as sincere as they come, uttered softly as he looks up at the stranger, red eyes devoid of any of their usual fire. ]

[thejoyrider]

[He is responding! Marie did not mishear that, he talked! Was he feeling better, at least a bit?]

Do you have strength to speak? If not, do not force yourself. But please stay with me here.

[She replaces the cloth on his forehead with a fresh one, as fresh as she can get in this situation. It should be a little bit cooler, at least...

He should not be lying in the mud like this, but she has nothing on her person to make it more comfortable. Transporting him is also out of the question, he is in no shape to walk and she would not have the strength to carry him. So how about...]

Please let me know if anything I do hurts you.

[She gathers the remains of her dress in her lap and gently places his head on it, to give him a bit more comfort. This might be overstepping some boundaries but frankly, who is in the shape to care right now?]

[battlebound]

[ "Better" is relative. Calmer, perhaps. The initial flare of agony and anger seems to be subsiding, or perhaps he's simply growing accustomed enough to it that he can power through.

Steak doesn't much care which version of reality is the truth, the fact that he feels more stable than he did a moment ago is a good thing. Certainly well enough that he can make a noise of mild surprise as his head is laid in her lap. ]

... It's fine. [ There's a kind of bite to the end of his words, as though he was about to continue and changed his mind. About to say it doesn't hurt that much but who would even begin to believe him, given the screams which tore from his throat only a few minutes ago?

The sensation of being laid out like this supersedes the cold, wet mud or the aching of his body. Unfamiliar and new, gentle in a way he would associate with his former Attendant and Madam after they finally stopped denying everything, the way they were in private after their marriage (until Steak or Red Wine would walk in and they would immediately begin arguing over some absurd thing or the other). ]

Why are you out here?

[ Was she as restless as he, or simply a victim of unfortunate timing? ]

[thejoyrider]

[Why was she here? Now that was a good question. Marie was not sure she had a good enough answer ready, but she was not really in the mood to think of something right now. Perhaps she really just did not want to admit that the Monster body she now possessed could not function at its full capacity during full moon, at least while her transformations are still ongoing.]

I might have overestimated my strength. It is the full moon, after all.

[The magic from her Bond was buzzing slightly under her skin and she could feel it better than before. Would she have suffered like this person here if it was not for Amadeus? She brushes a few dirty strands of hair off Steak’s face]

Do you have Bonded, friends or family? I should probably contact them.

[battlebound]

[ The Full Moon. Is every Full Moon going to be like this from now on? With his body tearing itself apart to make him into some sort of twisted Uke Mochi? ]

Nn... [ Of course Red Wine comes to mind, but how could he possibly ask her to let that jerk see him like this, weak and in pain, and halfway to being the kind of monster they would normally kill? ]

Nobody.

[ The lie comes out clipped, short, lips pursing shut tightly before he can fuck it up by talking more. He never was a good liar though, and the bright moonlight means that his darting eyes — avoiding all contact with her own — are much more visible than they would normally be at this hour. ]

[thejoyrider]

[Nobody? That would be really sad if it was true. Was he being serious?]

I see. I should probably contact the Coven in this case, I do not think I have the strength to carry you to your house myself. Where do you live, by the way? Maybe some of your neighbors would be able to help? I could contact them instead.

[He was not telling the full truth, was he? But he was in no condition to be pressed about it]

[battlebound]

[ Dammit.

He'll be grateful for her pressing later, when he's thinking right. But right now it's just catching out his lies and making him admit the truth.

The Knights of the Holy Sword — all of them — were never good at hiding things after all. ]

... There's someone at home. I don't want to see him right now.

[thejoyrider]

[Ah, so there was someone. Of course there was]

Why don’t you want to see him? Are you not on good terms?

[Oh, that’s... not really something she should stick her nose into, right?]

If that’s what you want, I will contact the Coven instead. They should be able to patch you up a bit

[battlebound]

[ It's very complicated. But he shakes his head no. No, he doesn't feel like getting into it right now. ]

That... sounds good. [ The Coven isn't an ideal place, because he's still not sure what he thinks of the whole thing, or whether he fully trusts them, but they'll know more about these transformations than anyone else.

So. Yes. Let's do that. ] Thank you.

[thejoyrider]

[Marie just nods and takes out her watch. It would be better to not make Steak talk too much in his current state, especially since she did obtain all the necessary information already. In the calmest way possible she flips through her contacts, then types out a short but concise message and sends it]

Just try to hold on for a little longer... and someone from the Coven will surely come and pick us up.

[battlebound]

[ She's distracted him well, and it's only when the silence of the moments where she contacts the Coven that Steak realises that. Without the conversation, the effects of the transformation are thrown into too-sharp focus.

The pain is one thing, harsh and aching throughout his entire body despite the transformations being localised to his waist and his skull, but it's the way it drags at his mind, as though wanting to tear it apart.

He's lived two hundred years sure and certain, never worrying about what he might become, and now—

He wonders if this is what it's like to Fall. ]

... What's your name?

[ It's blurted out more because he needs something to grab onto during the wait than anything else.

A distraction. Something whole. ]

[thejoyrider]

[Oh, right. She was so absorbed in dong whatever she could to ease his pain even a bit, she forgot to share this one important detail]

It’s Marie! Marie Antoinette...

[She skips the royal titles as well as her Class name. Nothing like this really matters here, after all]

When the full moon is over and you feel better, you need to contact me somehow! Come over for tea, coffee, maybe other drinks? Promise me you will do that?

[battlebound]

[ It's a pretty name, one he can't grasp the significance of simply because, well, he's Tierran. ]

Steak. [ And then there's a nod. ] I'd... like that.

[ Okay, he doesn't like this whole growing pains thing, can he go back to being unchanging now? ]

[thejoyrider]

[Maybe that’s for the best? If he knew her name, he could have assumed something about her. It’s probably better that it means nothing special to him]

I will be waiting for your message, Steak!

[And with that, she wipes the sweat and dirt from his face again with a fresh piece of fabric]

You better not forget...