T̵H̵̛̕E̵̴ ͘҉͟T͠HÍ̛RD ̨͢I̛͞N̵͏V̡EŚ̡T҉̶̕I͟͞ĢA̵͞T̸I͟ÒN̶

[strangerpeople]

Ţ̷H͠E̕͜͝ ̛T̡͏̀HI͜͢R̨̨͟D̴̡͏ ̀͟I̶͡NV̕͝È̷͜S̴T̡I̵͞G̶̕A҉T́͡ION҉͏̷

[Good morning again. It's Friday, and you know what that means.

Maybe people should start looking to see if anyone's taken Kyuubey at face value.]

Comments

[unwittingking]

Yeah, I'm fine.

[It comes a little too quickly, and he rubs at his mouth to get rid of the blood. It might be a problem later, but that's when they can deal with it; later.]

I'll ask later about that.

Now...now Jonathan?

[incendiarize]

If you're sure...

[Then yeah. Now Jonathan.]

[backuphero]

[He is running from the kitchen, and he is still shaking at Vita's side. She is dead. Everything they talked over, all their plans for the future, every good thing he'd pinned his hopes to, it's all gone, now. Emma won't be safe, now. She can't bring him back, now. There will be no flock of daughters with their mother's sunset eyes, now.

The time's up; the him beside her vanishes. He hopes he didn't drop her body but he can't be completely sure. There are tears blurring his vision, and he doesn't bother wiping them from his eyes. He doesn't bother to touch his face at all, never mind that he's sobbing raggedly like he hasn't in years.

"Where are you, you son of a bitch?!"

Never mind that his face is a mess, Vita is dead, again, and he could have stopped it, again, and he didn't, yet again, because he wasn't there.

He can't see very well, but he can lash out with the whip, blindly. Maybe it'll catch something. Tick, crack, tick, crack - does it count as being in IT's rhythm if he's on the offbeat? He can hear the footsteps retreating, can see a figure - but not clearly, not with his vision blurred, not with wrenching, heaving, grief-stricken sobs shaking his whole frame, almost knocking him off his feet even as his blindly runs after Vita's killer.

She's dead and it's his fault, again again again she's dead she's dead she's dead -

"Hold still, you bastard!"

His vision is blurry, but he can focus well enough to aim -

- he can strike there -

- he rubs a hand across his eyes, skidding to a halt, he needs to be able to see -

- and, abruptly, Arthur and King are right back where they started.]

[unwittingking]

[It's not as bad this time. Still not good, but they didn't go through another death. They went through grief, the worst imaginable, but not the worst part. He feels terrible, but that should be normal after that. There's nothing either of them can do about it now.]

You think that's enough?

[He's asking Arthur, holding his paws up to his face, ready to take the glasses off if he needs to. There's not much else to see, is there?]

[incendiarize]

Yeah.... I don't think we're gonna get more.

[So much more detail, than he got from the others. It's a double-edged sword. It's a worse experience, but more useful. Well....good to know his power isn't weakening.

He'll wait for King to put him down before he changes back.]

[unwittingking]

Alright.

[He takes off the glasses and, glancing around to make sure the goose is gone, puts him down when he sees it's not there.]

Think you'll be okay?

[incendiarize]

[Poof, he's a boy again.]

Yeah...that was nowhere close to the worst I've had. I just need a few minutes.

CW: Emeto

[unwittingking]

Okay. I'm...going to go somewhere else, yell if you need me.

[And he's running out of the room. Arthur, being the one facing him, was likely able to see the expression on his face, the slight green hue that appeared on his face, and if he was paying enough attention, that he's running to the nearest bathroom with a toilet.

He was here too long.]