metalogs | i was born to hold my hands up (open)

[Accelerator had gotten the story in brief, but hearing it is one thing. Practically experiencing it, even in a dream, is something else. It hurts, all of it hurts, especially that awful feeling about that kid's mom. He doesn't even have a mother, feeling any kind of familial betrayal is an entirely new and unwelcome experience for him.

The black void is a goddamn welcome after all of that. Accelerator is on his hands and knees, panting hard. While he's gotten better at taking a punch after his fight with that Level 0, but he's still a small kid sorely lacking in both muscle mass and experience feeling pain. It all reminded him too much of the night of September 30th, of Kihara beating the shit out of him twice, his choker battery dying, of feeling so desperately low that he was willing to do anything to - to --

He closes his eyes, sinks down onto the ground, and after rolling onto his back he breathes in deeply. It's all a black void but it's familiar, this is what makes up his own dreams most nights (minus the endless blood and bodies), so this is weirdly comfortable for him.]

It's over.

( the voice comes out of nowhere, before color flashes just to accelerator's left--and there's robin. little pixie boots balance his weight against the nothing that's functioning as a floor. there's not a mark on him, what damage had been done clearly hadn't been done yet; he looks a little younger, too, bending over at the waist so he can reach down for accelerator and wrap fingers around the fabric of his shirt. )

You need to get up.

Fuck that.

[He raises hand but, upon seeing how young this kid is, refrains from smacking his hands and instead just waves him off. He'd love nothing more than to sink into the void right now.]

Let me lie here.

Get up, Jason.

( voice still soft, but it's a little more demanding. he reaches for accelerator again, gloved fingers covered in blood this time. it drips down from his hairline, into his eyes, falls from his nose, blood coating the tunic of the robin costume from unseen injuries below it. )

Get up, now. You're not allowed to quit. Not after what you've done.

- Jason?

[Wait, that name isn't familiar to him. He's put two and two together about the dream, it's kind of hard not to when beaten to death and then exploded aren't everyday occurrences, but the guy had introduced himself as Red. Not Jason. Is that his real name, then?

It feels strange learning this. Like he shouldn't be, or something.

He grumbles and puts and arm over his eyes.]

I'm not Jason. [Is this kid him? Or him when he was young?] You are, so fuck off.

I'm dead.

( huffed, as if it's obvious. robin drops down to his knees beside accelerator's head, leans over him. it feels heavy, the longer accelerator stays down. like there's a weight on his chest, pushing him down. robin doesn't touch him again, just. stays there. )

I'm dead, and it's your fault. You're not me, not anymore. Did you forget?

( his voice shifts, and it sounds heavier, too. )

Get up, or I'll help you stay down.

....

[Accelerator tries to ignore it all for several moments - the kid and the implications of what he's saying, the increasing pressure, the memories of getting beaten. It's a lot, and when he has to deal with a lot his normal response is to just... take a nap. Shut it all out and sleep.

Kind of hard to do when he's already asleep, unfortunately.

The kid's voice shifting makes him finally move his arm and look over. His expression is irritated.]

I'm not someone you wanna be threatening. How about you stay dead and be quiet?

[He knows he shouldn't be so rude towards a dead kid, but he's fairly sure if he was that age he'd be just as annoying, and that bothers him.]

( the smile robin directs down at accelerator is--sad, lingering halfway between staying a smile and bursting into tears. and between one breath and the next, he disappears entirely. leaves behind nothing.

accelerator's back to being alone, in the endless dark void. the pressure loosens. )

.....

[He shouldn't have told the kid off. He knows he shouldn't have. A good person wouldn't have, they would have tried to help, or comforted him, or at least gotten up.

But Accelerator just lies there, because he isn't a good person. He's just trash that deserves to sink into this stupid void.]

Fucking hell.

[Except he knows that isn't how it goes for either of them. He always wakes up (or after getting shot, is saved by that doctor and support from the Sisters), and Red - Jason, apparently - comes back to life. Somehow. They never actually talked about how that worked.

Was that supposed to be it? Him talking himself into getting back up and just - living? Which makes no sense scientifically, but if you consider it on existential terms then maybe it does. Sort of how like, when someone is dying and their brain is shutting down, the chemical imbalances or medicine running through their system can cause them to hallucinate bizarre things or reach all kinds of strange epiphanies. Hell, his brain had hit the latter when Kihara had been trying to kill him and and Last Order, and his choker battery ran out.

... But he doesn't consider himself the introspective, philosophical type. He doesn't know what this is or supposed to be, just that for himself it feels a lot more comfortable than the alternatives. Who the hell knows how Jason felt about it. If his guess is right, then maybe he hated it and he listened to that kid, and that's why he's alive now.

He's wondering about that.]

Goddamnit, did you even have a choice?

No.

( it comes in flashes of memory: a grave, a corpse that is very, very slowly getting color back in it's cheeks as it comes back to life, as jason todd comes back from the dead. he sucks in a breath into newly healed lungs, and it hurts. he looks around, and he's buried with nothing to get himself out of the grave with. he's halfway through six feet of dirt, fingernails torn clear out of their nailbeds. his hand shoves it's way out of the dirt, and--

accelerator's laying on top of the grave, grass over it entirely undisturbed. leaning up against it is jason--not the child, not the corpse, but still a little younger than accelerator would be used to. thinner, less bulk to him. there's a streak of white hair just above his forehead, and a bright green liquid leaks out of the corners of his eyes, his nose, his ears. )

Hell. When I died again, I'd asked to stay down. Not--not right before it, but I knew he knew I didn't want to come back again. People aren't meant to come back. There's--a reason for that.

Edited 2023-07-29 23:12 (UTC)

[Accelerator squeezes his eyes shut, though that doesn't make much of a difference in the face of those memories. Dream and all.

It really doesn't end, does it? For most people dying would be it, there'd be nothing afterwards. Maybe some stupid afterlife, though Accelerator is an atheist and doesn't believe in such nonsense. But life (and death) apparently aren't that kind to Jason. He had to dig himself out of his own grave.

Shit. Accelerator sucks in a deep breath.

He doesn't move, even as the void ground underneath him shifts to something softer. He does look over, though, at this slightly older version of Jason. Questioning what that green liquid is sinks to the back of his mind in favour of other things.]

You've died twice?

Took a bullet to the chest.

( and he's shifting once more, no longer a child, but the green continues to drip out of him regardless. he's older, no different than the jason accelerator knows outside of the dream. the tank he's wearing is easy to yank down, low enough to show the bullet wound that looks a lot more fresh than it's meant to, because it's still bleeding. for just a moment, and there's whispers of memories, a soft "d-nt" of jason's, a slightly louder i've got you, jason in a thick southern accent. the bleeding stops, only the scar from the bullet remains--but it's not the only one. there's the massive Y across his chest down his sternum, the additional surgical scar over his sternum--burns, cuts, gashes, old bullet wounds. jason pulls the tank back up, smooths out wrinkled fabric. )

It wasn't as bad.

[Lying there, he finally decides to haul himself up. Not to his feet, he only sits up, but there's no more void to wallow in and it's a little easier to talk like this.]

Bullets are faster when you aren't stuck bleeding out.

[There's a beat of silence as Accelerator stares, noting all the old injuries and scars. Being, for the most part, desensitized to physical trauma and violence, his expression remains calm.]

You're really fucked up. [Just putting that out there.] What's with the green stuff?

( the green stuff, accelerator says, and jason raises a hand up to his face. presses gloved fingers against the skin just under his nose. when he pulls it away, he looks down to it. )

Jesus christ.

( like it was just waiting for him to notice, the flow kicks up. he coughs, and it spills from his mouth as he bends over. shoves a hand over his mouth like that'll stop it, but it's not just his mouth. it's his nose, his eyes, his ears-- )

[Waiting for an answer, Accelerator only stares. He doesn't even know what the hell that stuff is, but that looks --

It looks very not good.]

Hey - [Except he isn't sure what to do, if it's going to abate. Or if it's blood and Jason is just going to bleed out in front of him. Is there dream logic going on, or does he need to do something? He keeps on watching.

Should he... hit him on the back? That's if you're choking, and this looks more like drowning, as messed up as that is.

He could reach over with his ability and just rip all the green stuff out, that'd be simple enough and he does lift a hand, but he's hesitating.]

What the fuck?

( what the fuck is as good of an answer as any. jason is drowning, and it burns through him like a whitehot rage that he can't temper. he coughs again, curls in on himself, and the ground under him gives way. they're no longer in a graveyard, they're in an underground space with a large pool of the same green liquid that had been leaking out of jason, accelerator up on the rocky ledge while jason pulls himself out from the pool, coughing and hacking but no longer leaking it. he's younger again, a kid in his late teens who's struggling to climb over the ledge. an echo of a woman's voice goes through the cavern, but it's--not clear. it exists, but the words are irrelevant.

and jason, hanging onto the ledge with one hand, raises the other to grab onto his head. winces. )

Shut up. ( but there's no one around, no one he's directing his words to. it's--unclear what he's talking to, until that woman's voice becomes clearer,

"you remain unavenged". )

[Gritting his teeth, Accelerator starts to reach for the switch on his choker when the ground rumbles and crumbles away. There isn't anything for him to grab onto, though fortunately it doesn't seem like they're going to be falling - just shifting away from the grave. He isn't sure if this new place is any better, though.

Peering over the ledge he can see the pool and Jason, a little older than himself now. He still doesn't know what the liquid is, but -

- Is this what brought him back? It can't be, if he had to dig himself out of his grave. So then, what the hell? He looks around, straightening up and straining to hear the voice.

Oh. Those words. Those, at least, click in his mind.]

That clown son of a bitch is still alive?

( both hands down on the ledge, and jason's scrambling to pull himself out. coughs out more green when he finally gets up and out of the lazarus pit, and just--settles there, right outside the pit's reach. he shoves a hand down over his face, palms quickly pushing off as much of the liquid as he possibly can. shakes it out of his hair, shoves his palm over his arms to get any that's dripping down them off. crawls forward a little more so he's out of the puddle he made when he collapses down on his side.

takes a few gasping breaths as he tries to pull himself together. it all feels--hot, intense, like a rage burying deep into his gut and settling there. it's a feeling that echoes throughout, growing slowly stronger like it's trying to drown them. trying to pull jason under, even as he sucks in several breaths and curls into himself tighter, as if that'll fight it off any.

accelerator mentions clown and jason--flinches as the same maniacal laughter that had resounded through the warehouse while jason struggled to keep himself up echoes throughout the cavern. )

Said shut up.

[Accelerator remains where he is for a few moments. It's brief, but that intense anger is - it isn't good. For one, it isn't normal. Two, for an esper such as himself, it's doubly dangerous. Letting emotional instability that overwhelming take over any esper's mind has the potential for mass destruction. Can he even get RSPK Syndrome in a dream? Or those wings? He doesn't want to find out.

He only moves when he hears the laugh bouncing off the cavern walls. Cursing under his breath, he hits the switch on his choker and proceeds to climb down to where Jason is. This is a dream so he doesn't actually know how the rules of his ability function, but he figures trying to maintain some semblance of logic with it will help prevent any mishaps. This, however, does mean he needs to stick to his thirty minute time limit, so as soon as he's down at the edge of the pool he's dropping down to one knee and hitting it again to conserve the battery.

The void was, for Accelerator, comforting, and the graveyard was quiet. He doesn't have a good feeling about this place. He's grabbing Jason's arm.]

You need to get up.

[(Ironic that he's the one now saying that.)]

( he doesn't see accelerator move towards him, but he hears it. hears him dropping down to the ground close by, feels him reach for his arm.

you need to get up.

how many times has jason told himself that? you need to get up. there is no other option. he can't stay down, he needs to get up. he can't let the pit destroy him. he can't let dying be the thing that pulls him apart. can't let bruce's rejection be the thing that breaks him. he has shit to do. a never-ending list of people who need help, of people who need someone like him, because sometimes batman just doesn't fucking cut it.

they're not in gotham right now. they're not under the league of assassins compound either, which is the only reason jason is still down. talia isn't here, ra's isn't chasing them down. he's drowning, he's breathing, he's out of the lazarus pit, it's not burning through him as intensely as it had once because he's--this happened years ago. he's fine.

you need to get up.

accelerator's a brat, and it shouldn't be on him to pull jason back together. he sucks in a breath. closes his eyes. tells himself to get up. pulls himself up to his hands and knees. takes in another breath. get up, and he's sitting up on his knees. he's still--younger, some of the scars that had been visible before aren't present, some of them look fresher, quickly healing as the lazarus water sets in. burns through him. he shoves shaking fingers through his hair. breathes. )

'm good.

( he isn't. he hasn't been good in a long time. but he's up, he's not falling apart, he's--fine. everything is fine. and he's reaching a hand out for accelerator, to ruffle his hair. )

Thanks, kid.

Edited 2023-08-01 20:06 (UTC)

[It's a hell of a lot easier to tell someone else to get up than to do it himself, and with how things are going it wouldn't surprise him if things got substantially worse if Jason stays down. Accelerator wouldn't blame him if he didn't, though. He knows what that's like.

(He's glad he isn't staying down, for what it's worth.)]

Tche. [Promptly letting go, he'll tolerate the hair ruffle, though he scowls at it and being called 'kid.' There has to be something in the city's water or something, this keeps happening and it's really irritating.

Worse than that, though, is getting thanked. Being treated like a child is one thing, being thanked is a whole other level of social discomfort and he looks away.]

I have no idea how you're good, let alone fucking functioning.

[Unless he's making an incorrect assumption and Jason isn't actually functioning, and just - he doesn't know - sleeping most of the time like he does or whatever. Buuuut somehow he doubts that's the case.]

What the hell is that pool?

Edited (I forgot I had a headpat icon lmaooooooo) 2023-08-01 23:41 (UTC)

( functioning is a strong word. but jason's too stubborn to let anything keep him down for long. he finds reasons to get back up. finds things to keep him moving, even when he doesn't feel like going anymore. he's tired, he wants it to end but he doesn't want to quit and he doesn't want to die which leaves him with--nothing. no options. just the endless struggle of trying his damn best only to fall straight onto his face again and have to spend time pulling himself back together.

he's not good. he's not quite functioning, but he's here. he's alive. he's survived more shit than he should have. taken bullets that should have killed him, bleed out all over the floor, fought people who were completely out of his weight class and still managed to win. jason doesn't quit, he fights for every moment he can get his hands on.

accelerator has enough shit on his hands already without jason--digging that deep into it. so he chooses not to respond at all to that bit, and instead angles himself towards the lazarus pit. to look at it. )

Lazarus Pit. Heals everything, but has the tendency to drive people mad.

( no point in lying when they're stuck in his worst reels. accelerator is a kid, but jason's spent enough time around him to know he isn't--a child. )

[Accelerator shifts back, sitting down properly. He still doesn't like where they are, but there isn't much he can do about it.]

Hm.

[Lazarus. He isn't religious, but he's aware of some Christian story about someone by that name being brought back to life. So is it some spiritual bullshit, or did some scientist just have a sense of humour...? Either way, more pieces are being put into place.]

So you came back, but that didn't fix the injuries your body had sustained? Not fully, at least. You still needed this - [He waves a hand at the pit.] - potentially at the cost of your mind.

[He's rolling through all of that matter-of-factly, since that's the easiest way for him to process all of this despite none of it being the least bit scientific. It occurs to him that a lot of things are adding up to Jason being a much more dangerous person than he had first thought. Yes, the duffle bag full of weapons and willingness to show a teenager how to both torture someone and use a firearm already scream dangerous, but the rest of this -

The trauma of being beaten to the point of brain damage, his mother's betrayal, the explosion, coming back from all of that but not all the way. Needing this pit, and whatever the hell kind of insanity trade-off it forced onto his mind....

Jason had said he came back angry. Accelerator is certain he came back a lot more than just angry.

He lets out a breath, kind of a laugh but not really.]

You're a goddamn monster.

( he is a monster, and jason's well-aware of it. he's an anomaly even by his world standards. most people, when they come back from the dead, have some reason behind it. someone knows how it happened, someone made it happen, but no one knows why the hell jason got out of his grave and started walking again. talia wouldn't have thrown him into the pit if he hadn't jumped out of his grave himself. he'd be dead still. but something pulled him back, and jason's--here, living, because of whatever it was that decided he needed to.

or at least, that's how jason's choosing to read into it. coming back for nothing would be too much. he needs purpose, he needs a reason, and him coming back to do what bruce couldn't is--the only reasonable explanation. )

Coming back didn't fix how fucked my body was, it just brought me back. I was catatonic. I -- ( there's no point in censoring himself. accelerator isn't jason, but he feels similar. he's older than his years in some ways, younger in others. he gets it. it's just what happens when your life's fucked up. ) I remember crawling out of my grave, I remember that first breath of fresh air, an' after that it's all just flashes. I was fucked up enough I wasn't ( pausing to pull in a breath through his nose. jason raises a hand up to shove the back of it against his cheek, wipes off some of the lazarus liquid dripping down from his hair. ) there anymore. The Pit fixed what was missing.

[It isn't tough for a monster to recognize a monster, though Accelerator usually only brings that up when he's being derisive towards some enemy he's about to destroy. Not when he's empathizing with someone.

He thinks it's accurate, especially when Jason doesn't argue against being called that. And he doesn't have any problems with it. Maybe if he was a good person he wouldn't but he isn't.

He's quiet as he listens to that explanation. It hits very, very close to home.]

Like your brain was missing a bunch of gears. [His tone is a bit quieter when he speaks again, and he taps the little rectangular box attached to his choker. His calculation assistance device.] That's what this fucking thing does for me. Without it I can barely move, I've got no sense of balance. I can't even sit up on my own. And I can't understand what's going on, whether that's through language or just trying to put two thoughts together. It fills in for what my brain's missing.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject