onerous | (no subject)

[ As a man who really loves delegation... trust him, that's more than enough! He's not been shy about making sure to moonlace more than needed for basic functions, and off the top of his head there's nothing he needs or wants outside of more eyes on paper, so...

... welcome to Shen Qingqiu's diabolical lack of a plan for a temporary research assistant? Very devious! More than enough! ]

I look forward to working with you.

[ Then with an approximate lack of anything like pomp or circumstance, he deftly loops the inhibitor around her arm and clicks it closed. It's a little bit big, sitting more like a bangle, but if he adjusts the hinge, he can be sure that it won't slide right off her hand... yes, just a small adjustment would see that done. ]

One small adjustment—

[ However, in the process of measuring that space with his fingers, he's brushing against her skin as he hums to himself... and unhooks the inhibitor. ]

[She holds her breath, trying to steel her mind from what might come. Normally-- Normally it's okay. If she's prepared for a touch, often her ability ill be quiet and behave itself, which is something of a relief.

But she's too eager and excited, drops her guard too quickly, so when he goes to make his adjustment--

The mitori ability sees that as a fine time to kick in and immediately latch onto the worst recent memory he has. Yuri cringes and makes a sharp noise of protest, but it does little to stop it from happening once it's going.

Sorry Shen Qingqiu]

[ The memory is darkness and smoke and remnants of fire and the thick, cloying scent of fresh and drying blood. He's kneeling on the roof of Obscuria, in the wreckage and aftermath of the long battle against the Glow-pumped up Barbarus and Janus's personal army of bodyguards, but there's no one around, just Shen Qingqiu and the man he's dragged into his lap, the man whose eyes are dull and whose lips froth with bubbles of blood and who has gashes large enough for Shen Qingqiu's hand to fall inside on his chest, between the layers of black fabric that have frayed and become partly engrained in the bloody, raw lacerations. It's a miracle no artery has been hit, but the blood won't stop flowing, already in the handsome, beautiful young man's hair, matted and thick, painted across his face, turning his black suit and black over-robe glittering and beautiful and wet with blood. There's blood on Shen Qingqiu too, smeared across his face, across his torn-up, ripped up shirt, across the pristine chest that lies beneath. He's speaking, pleading and pleading and telling this man, telling Luo Binghe he cannto die, he has to live, and he's kissing his forehead and the blood-red mark that glows so faintly there, kissing an unseeing eye as the lids slide lower, kissing bloody lips and finding that the one he kisses rallies his effort, what little life he has left, and clings to Shen Qingqiu, kisses him back with a horrible, sad desperation as Shen Qingqiu cries tears he doesn't even know are falling, leaving trails through the blood on Binghe's face, falling down between them as their lips meet and he's trying not to let his breath hitch in a sob as he says, please, please, please each time he remembers to come up for air.

It doesn't last long, it lasts for ages, it's until Binghe loses strength in his arms to hold around Shen Qingqiu's shoulders, and all there is in that moment is the silent tears that stream unchecked and unnoticed down Shen Qingqiu's face as he cradles Luo Binghe close, runs a hand over his hair, says nothing, can't speak, because that's the death rattle and as quick as an eye can blink Luo Binghe is here as a weak and pitiful pale thing and then he is dead. He is covered in his hearts blood, his life's blood, he is covered in Shen Qingqiu's tears, there is blood smeared on Shen Qingqiu's lips and acorss Luo Binghe's slack mouth and there is no breath in his lungs and that is not the end. That is not the end, because the crystals start crawling across his body, growing over Luo Binghe's skin and clothes and the blood and his matted hair, trying to grow over Shen Qingqiu's hands and fracturing as he moves, until he's forced to set Luo Binghe down as the crystal growths rage and build like a tide that crests and spills over the rest of him, encasing Luo Binghe in light, in light, in light, countless reflected, refracted colours of imperfect, smooth crystal, and the small, animal sound it pulls from Shen Qingqiu's gut is almost soft enough to be ignored, to be forgotten, as he holds trembling fingers out and presses them against the crystal that has grown over Luo Binghe's cheek.

It is his worst recent memory. It is his worst memory in years. It's the memory he revists in broken fragments most nights, even now, with Binghe alive, breathing, moving, speaking, functioning again.

And when he's living it again, not fully unexpected, because he had taken her fears and thoughts on her powers to heart, he swallows against a thick throat and ignores the tears that have gathered on his lashes, a fresh plunge into that deep grief and his own helplessness in the face of it not welcome, but accepted, acknowledged, and set aside. ]

[Automatically she makes to jerk her hand away the second the vision ends, her vision swimming briefly. It takes her brain a few seconds to parse away what him and what's herself, what feels are his, thoughts and pains, trying to dissect them from her own.]

I'm sorry.

[She gasps out, automatic but no less genuine, and her eyes wide with panic that he might get belatedly angry and lash out at her.]

I'm so sorry, I-- [She looks down at the bracelet, wishing it all could have waited just a few seconds long, then it hopefully, maybe, wouldn't have been a worry at all.

She can still taste blood on her lips and the sting of tears in her eyes, though none gather in her own; even in the face off all of that raw emotion Yuri can't form tears.]

Miss Yuri.

[ He calmly handles the bracelet, manipulating its metal with nothing more than his spiritual energy. He's not used to doing such things, so he needs to concentrate more than he would if this were a task done often, but it's a good focus. It tears his thoughts away from the explosion of grief that the reliving of that memory has brought right back to the forefront. Aside from a gloss to his black eyes, and the deliberate, steady way he breathes, it's hard to say he was even affected.

(He's affected. To the marrow of his bones, he's affected, but none of him leaps to blaming her. That pain wouldn't exist if it weren't for other people's choices, and her ability is just that: a memory, not a cause.) ]

You'd informed me of your abilities before. What just happened wasn't unexpected, just unpleasant. For both of us.

[ He won't talk about it unless she asks something, but he won't lay blame on her for what he knew might happen. Abilities like that are dangerous for various reasons, the unpredictability being part of it, but isn't that why he's here? Why he brought the damn inhibitor along? She doesn't deserve his anger. She deserves his understanding.

There. He examines what he's done with the inhibitor, looks at it from three different angles, then gives a small nod of his head and unclasps the mechanism, offering it out again. ]

This should be a better fit.

[Yuri goes so still she might as well be a statue when he says her name. She's prepared for a lot of things here--to be scolded, or turned away, or rejected or anything but... Well, this.

She opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, slowly turning her gaze downward to look at the bracelet again as he offers it out once more. It shouldn't activate again so soon after it's just been used on him, but her hand is still trembling when she offers her wrist out again.

For a long moment, Yuri says nothing, really not sure what to say or how to respond. People had been above and beyond (in her opinion) accepting of her peculiarities.]

...You're...a really kind person...

[ He's just had his own versions of worse emotionally than a young woman with powers that aren't fully in her control. Blaming her would be simplistic and easy, and while he can be both when in pursuit of the laid back life he'd love to live but keeps failing to achieve... he isn't here. He has some standards! Or a moral code? Something like that!

He clicks the bracelet in place around her arm, and truly, it does fit that wee bit better that makes it seem more accessory-like, less limiter like.

His hands drop away after checking it's latched properly, but he doesn't break the silence. He leaves that to her. When she does, he gives a small shake of his head, and an equally small smile. ]

You're a person who deserves kindness. To offer none would be crass. How does it feel?

[She holds her arm close to her, her free hand cradling the wrist with the bracelet as she looks it over. Her heart feels strange and in this moment he reminds her so much of Hisoka, her mentor from home, that she's very glad she can't cry or else things might've gotten more awkward.]

It's...Warm... [??? Yuri?

She blinks and snaps her head up, her ears and cheeks turning pink] Ah, that was-- An odd thing to say. I'm sorry. I mean... It fits fine. I think... I think it'll really work. Can I, um...

...Can I touch you again, to make sure?

[ Warm? Sure, he finds that a strange response, but he also isn't her. It makes sense to her, and that's enough, right?

She seems to be caught up in mild embarrassment at it, and so he opts to not draw attention to what she'd said. Or even to worry over accepting the apology that isn't needed.

Instead, he holds out his hand, palm up, so she can test its effectiveness. He has faith it does work, given how total it'd been for him and so many varied other powers in the Lightless, but he'd also like to know. ]

Of course.

Edited 2019-08-04 20:19 (UTC)

[Tentatively she touches her fingertips to his palm, like she's expecting some kind of explosion or something. When nothing comes ehr brow furrows in concentration, but even actually trying to read his mind gets her nowhere.

She lays her hand flat against his and breaths a huge sigh of relief from the breath she'd been holding.] I can't hear anything, it's so quiet. It's the first time my mind's been this quiet in-- Years.

[She looks from their hands to his face, expression soft and grateful] ...Thank you. You can't imagine how much this means to me. I...know I said i'd help you with your research, but I have to do more than that to repay you for this kindness.

[ It's such a blessing his mind is presently closed, because if she could read it, most the time it would be the kind of adventure no one really wants to find themselves on unprepared. Or at all.

The reality is, he's glad. Very glad! That this has seemingly worked. She has a system that can be taken on and off at will, that allows her abilities to be put on pause so she can not only survive, but thrive in this place. To him, it's a demonstration of what can save a life, because as much as he knows too intimately that people can come back, he doesn't want that for anyone. No one. Let alone a kind young woman already facing so many issues of her own! Please, go live your best life!

He has an answer for what she says, even if it's not a question. So maybe he can even make it sound cool, or, barring that, at least somewhat profound. All it needs to be is what it is at heart: an honest wish. ]

Miss Yuri, the biggest repayment to me will be if you can promise just one thing. That the people you seek out to moonlace from here on forward are the ones you care for, or about, or can trust, and not just those who can brave the storm that might have otherwise come.

[ Poetically stated, but what he means is: have some fucking standards! You're a beautiful young woman! You deserve to have beautiful relationships, not ones that sound way too shady! Way, way too shady! ]