There was something terrifying about looking around and not finding Leon. Normally it would take much more than that to strike fear in him, but this wasn't a normal situation. Now that he'd had no choice but to acknowledge his demons, they were hunting him, lingering at the very edges of his freshly woken mind. He wasn't sure what to make of things, especially since he just woke up and was in a very fragile limbo between reality and nightmare. "Leon?" he asked in a much meeker voice, no longer grounded by the feel of his mattress. As his hand inched over to where his boyfriend had been laying, the white coldness of the mattress registered more like snow than fabric. A groan rose from his throat as his traumatized mind told him he was back in the cold mountains riding the Bellum-Pergrande border.
With his heart pounding, he had no choice but to react to the environment shown to him. It felt real and urgent. This was war. People were being blasted across the terrain by cannons and magic alike, blades were slashing and stabbing people to death, and the gunfire never stopped. Screams of rage, fear, and agony far and near had him looking around to make sure it wasn't Leon. He wasn't sure when he'd been knocked down, but he struggled up out of the snow, his damaged exosuit whining in protest.
Just like that, Percy was fighting ghosts in his home with all the intensity as he had on the battlefield, sending poor Cat running from his hiding spot under the bed, though really, he should have stayed. Nowhere else would be safer. There was a trail of smashed furniture from the bedroom, his knuckles bruised and busted from bashing into his nightstand, the door he knocked off the hinges, and the holes in the walls. The more upset he got, the more the ground rumbled beneath his home. Where was Leon? Why couldn't he find him? He wasn't even registering on his HUD, which had him in a panic. "Please, please don't be dead," he mumbled to himself, eyes wide and glazed. "LEON!" he called, coming to a decline on the mountainside. Maybe he was down there? Yeah, maybe a boulder was blocking the signal.
That's when the real destruction began. In his panic to find Leon amongst the warring bodies, his new magic stirred from his emotions and burst into action. Large pieces of earth jutted up from beneath the home, blasting through the stairs beneath him and splintering wood and drywall like a deafening explosion. Percy tumbled down them, covering his head to protect himself from registered as essentially a land mine. Blood dripped from his nose and splattered onto the floor from the magic use rather than damage, but he still pressed his hands to his head as if he was wounded. Scrambling up as his kitchen saw slabs of stone and quartz shoot up and rip the cabinets and countertops apart, he dove into the living room. Percy expertly punched, kicked, and flipped invisible enemies into oblivion, sometimes with stones serving him and flying out as projectiles and sometimes the magic serving as the antagonist. The glass from shattered lamps and stuffing from smashed armchairs filtered through the air like winter flurries, the only thing jarringly peaceful in an otherwise chaotic display of destruction.
A crack formed across the living room floor, snapping the wooden floorboards until there was a gaping hole down into the ground. Percy jumped onto the couch to escape, watching as enemies (pieces of his furniture) fell down into the gaping pit in horror, only to clap his hands and close the hole on them with a crunch. A searing pain sparked through his brain as blood started to gush faster out of his nose. "Agh!" he grunted, holding his head in agony just as a cushion flopped over onto his leg. Thinking the couch was a Pergrande soldier wrestling him, Percy proceeded to viciously attack the ugly seat until he was ripping the pillows apart. A spike lashed up from the edge of the couch, violently throwing it into the air and dumping Percy onto the floor hard enough to skid him into a bookshelf on the far wall.
The ground shook so violently that the house as a whole was having a harder time with it, though at least there were no more invasive earth attacks. Cracks formed from the foundation up around him, creeping through the walls like it was rapidly aging. The previous spikes, boulders, and slabs had already compromised the structural integrity, but thankfully some steel beams remained unharmed so the whole place didn't fall down on him as his old guildhall had. While the floor-to-ceiling windows had been cracked from debris, it was now that they started to shatter panel by panel under the strain of the shifting walls. Pieces of the ceiling now served as the newly falling snow, soaking up some of the blood dripping steadily off of his chin from his nose. A stream of red was also flowing from the left side of his face, where the injured tear duct of his burnt eye cried blood from the extreme stress.
Percy, a bit dazed, glanced around as he slowly got back to his feet. Blood was dripped and smeared everywhere, staining the white fluff just as Leon's blood had the snow around his severed arm. "LEON!" he shouted again, unable to see his body but thinking he was seeing the arm, which was actually the severed leg of his coffee table. Leon was bleeding out somewhere he couldn't reach! After that, he really didn't register what was happening. It all faded into red. He was just standing there, his arms raised and twisted as if he had someone in a chokehold, screaming. Screaming and screaming, until his voice and throat were raw. It was a hopelessly angry and guttural noise. The dark desperation of someone who didn't want to kill but had to, of someone who thought he was losing the person he loved and could do nothing.
[wc: 1020 || total: 29066]
With his heart pounding, he had no choice but to react to the environment shown to him. It felt real and urgent. This was war. People were being blasted across the terrain by cannons and magic alike, blades were slashing and stabbing people to death, and the gunfire never stopped. Screams of rage, fear, and agony far and near had him looking around to make sure it wasn't Leon. He wasn't sure when he'd been knocked down, but he struggled up out of the snow, his damaged exosuit whining in protest.
Just like that, Percy was fighting ghosts in his home with all the intensity as he had on the battlefield, sending poor Cat running from his hiding spot under the bed, though really, he should have stayed. Nowhere else would be safer. There was a trail of smashed furniture from the bedroom, his knuckles bruised and busted from bashing into his nightstand, the door he knocked off the hinges, and the holes in the walls. The more upset he got, the more the ground rumbled beneath his home. Where was Leon? Why couldn't he find him? He wasn't even registering on his HUD, which had him in a panic. "Please, please don't be dead," he mumbled to himself, eyes wide and glazed. "LEON!" he called, coming to a decline on the mountainside. Maybe he was down there? Yeah, maybe a boulder was blocking the signal.
That's when the real destruction began. In his panic to find Leon amongst the warring bodies, his new magic stirred from his emotions and burst into action. Large pieces of earth jutted up from beneath the home, blasting through the stairs beneath him and splintering wood and drywall like a deafening explosion. Percy tumbled down them, covering his head to protect himself from registered as essentially a land mine. Blood dripped from his nose and splattered onto the floor from the magic use rather than damage, but he still pressed his hands to his head as if he was wounded. Scrambling up as his kitchen saw slabs of stone and quartz shoot up and rip the cabinets and countertops apart, he dove into the living room. Percy expertly punched, kicked, and flipped invisible enemies into oblivion, sometimes with stones serving him and flying out as projectiles and sometimes the magic serving as the antagonist. The glass from shattered lamps and stuffing from smashed armchairs filtered through the air like winter flurries, the only thing jarringly peaceful in an otherwise chaotic display of destruction.
A crack formed across the living room floor, snapping the wooden floorboards until there was a gaping hole down into the ground. Percy jumped onto the couch to escape, watching as enemies (pieces of his furniture) fell down into the gaping pit in horror, only to clap his hands and close the hole on them with a crunch. A searing pain sparked through his brain as blood started to gush faster out of his nose. "Agh!" he grunted, holding his head in agony just as a cushion flopped over onto his leg. Thinking the couch was a Pergrande soldier wrestling him, Percy proceeded to viciously attack the ugly seat until he was ripping the pillows apart. A spike lashed up from the edge of the couch, violently throwing it into the air and dumping Percy onto the floor hard enough to skid him into a bookshelf on the far wall.
The ground shook so violently that the house as a whole was having a harder time with it, though at least there were no more invasive earth attacks. Cracks formed from the foundation up around him, creeping through the walls like it was rapidly aging. The previous spikes, boulders, and slabs had already compromised the structural integrity, but thankfully some steel beams remained unharmed so the whole place didn't fall down on him as his old guildhall had. While the floor-to-ceiling windows had been cracked from debris, it was now that they started to shatter panel by panel under the strain of the shifting walls. Pieces of the ceiling now served as the newly falling snow, soaking up some of the blood dripping steadily off of his chin from his nose. A stream of red was also flowing from the left side of his face, where the injured tear duct of his burnt eye cried blood from the extreme stress.
Percy, a bit dazed, glanced around as he slowly got back to his feet. Blood was dripped and smeared everywhere, staining the white fluff just as Leon's blood had the snow around his severed arm. "LEON!" he shouted again, unable to see his body but thinking he was seeing the arm, which was actually the severed leg of his coffee table. Leon was bleeding out somewhere he couldn't reach! After that, he really didn't register what was happening. It all faded into red. He was just standing there, his arms raised and twisted as if he had someone in a chokehold, screaming. Screaming and screaming, until his voice and throat were raw. It was a hopelessly angry and guttural noise. The dark desperation of someone who didn't want to kill but had to, of someone who thought he was losing the person he loved and could do nothing.
[wc: 1020 || total: 29066]
Leon ended up leaving that jewelry store with a glint of excitement in his stoic eyes and the tiniest pep in his step. He was fidgeting with something small but solid in his pocket, and he looked even more eager to get back to Percy than before. He felt good. Things were finally going to get better! For real, this time!
