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

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.

( funny how that works out, isn't it. jason finds a kid on the street beating some thugs up to get his hands on a new toy, and that kid--well. turns out to be even more similar than jason had originally anticipated. he's full of attitude, snarky as hell, and just as fucked up as jason himself is.

he hates it because it's shit. kids shouldn't go through this crap. no one should take a bullet to the head when they're as young as accelerator is. no one should have to suffer through the kind of shit he knows this kid has. that he had. the world is shit. every world is shit, and jason would know--he's seen several. and here is he, sitting in a place he only visits in his nightmares, while the kid tells him how fucked his own head is.

at least he got a computer to fix it, instead of a dip in the pit. jason wouldn't wish the pit on anyone. he still winces at the explanation, because it's--terrible, isn't it? having to live like that, dependent on something external to keep himself from collapsing in on himself. )

Yeah. ( he doesn't know what it was missing, that wasn't information he was let in on. there are scans of his head, somewhere in the league compound, but jason doesn't want to see them. doesn't want to know how fucked he was, how fucked he still is. sometimes, ignorance is bliss. accelerator doesn't have that luxury. jason pulls himself up to his feet proper, reaches a hand down for accelerator. ) Up. I don't wanna know what'll happen if we stick around here for long.

[The brain damage is something Accelerator has mostly accepted, since he's never had any other choice. When the gunshot happened he had assumed he'd just die. But no, that doctor did surgery on him, the Sisters agreed to something they never should have agreed to, and now he has to live with all of them being far too kind to someone who doesn't deserve it.

He doesn't think much about how his age enters into it. What happened happened, and he'll deal with it like he deals with every shitshow in his life - on his own.

That's how it's supposed to go, anyways. Accelerator has never been very good at getting along with other people, let alone empathize with them. There's been such a huge gap between himself, the strongest, and everyone else for so much of his life that any common understanding has been pretty much impossible.

Except that isn't how it's going. There's someone else here who has been some incredibly fucked up things, actually knows what it's like to have your brain damaged so badly that only extraordinary circumstances can bring you back to a semblance of your previous self. And he knows what it's like having to live with the consequences of those circumstances. It's really messed up, honestly. Even moreso that Accelerator is kind of glad for it. He knows how selfish that makes him, but he doesn't really like being alone.

Taking hold of his crutch, he grabs Jason's hand and hauls himself onto wobbly legs. Once he's got his crutch all situated he rubs the back of his head.]

Any idea on how to get the hell out of here?

[Or are things going to shift again? He hates dream logic, he hates it so much.]

No.

( he doesn't even know how he got in here. and not even in just--a dreaming sense, jason doesn't remember walking down this far to begin with. he vaguely remembers the run back up and the half mile they took to get to the ocean, but jason wouldn't be able to tell anyone the path he and talia ran either. he was a little busy coping from being thrown into the pit to handle remembering any of that.

but they'll figure it out. accelerator gets up to his feet, and jason waits until he has his crutch settled before he's wrapping an arm around his shoulders to help support him. he's still the same size as freshly out of the pit jason was, wearing a pear of loose cotton pants and nothing above the waist, but this is fine. he's got this. )

Guess we'll have to figure it out together, Ace. ( with a small curl to the corners of his lips; the hint of a grin, even if it never quite reaches as well as jason's usual smarmy expressions do. )

[It's all fine. Having been through the hell that is the rest of the dream (nightmare), Accelerator is at least certain that they can get through whatever's next. It would be too optimistic to hope that they'll just wake up, so he's prepared for more horror.

He doesn't move away from Jason, tolerating the extended physical touch. This is something that's still awkward to him and he's doing his best here. In fact, he's more tolerant of that than the nickname.

Accelerator inhales deeply.]

Even though you just crawled out of that trash I won't hesitate to punch you, you bastard.

[He's saying that, but he's getting the awful sneaking suspicion this is Leo and Donnie all over again. That he can grouse as much as he wants and it won't matter. This is just another nickname he's going to be stuck with.

Just another nickname he'll tolerate, since he's too soft to seriously push back.

He's going to start heading up the slope and away from the pool. Maybe the dream will shift again if they get too far away from it, or there'll be a tunnel up there. Or something.]

( the threat earns accelerator a laugh; it's short, bordering on being considered more of a cackle than anything else, but the smile that accompanies it is almost soft even if it doesn't quite fit jason's face. he's still smaller, more soft angles than the hard edges he'll eventually grow into, the ones he's accustomed to moving himself around with. but it's cute, the kid's attitude. jason gets it. if he'd shown up closer to the age he looks now, he'd have been as loudly bitchy as accelerator himself. luckily for both of them, while jason grew into his hard edges, learned to make himself big and scary, most know that for him--it's only skin-deep. he's a killer, someone who knows how to flay flesh from others' bones while keeping them alive as long as possible.

he's also an asshole who leans his weight into some little brat with a crutch, careful not to put so much onto him that it knocks him over as they walk away from the pit. )

Bring it on, runt. I'd like to see you try it.

[As irritated as Accelerator looks, he isn't actually planning on going through with that threat. Probably. It's just shit talking which, given Jason's laugh, he's picking up on. His own expression doesn't change, even as he starts leaning over a little. Without his ability he's just some skinny twig with no muscle mass.

Not that that's going to dissuade him.]

You wouldn't stand a fucking chance. Do you even have any kind of power, or are you stuck as some third-string using fists and guns?

[...... Says the kid who actively wants to learn how to use a gun........]

I'm just a guy with fists and guns.

( he has abilities now, but they're not ones jason's ever felt the need to lean on. the further they get away from the pit, the more blurry everything gets around the edges; they're veering out of the area jason's memory can fill in, but those blurred edges are also shifting into something--else. there's the smell of pollution, the sound of car horns, muffled yelling which doesn't fit in the cavern well at all. between one step and the next, jason shifts, too. he gains a good chunk of weight in muscle, the kevlar tank he's wearing has a black bat across the chest, and jason goes from leaning on accelerator to gently pulling him along. )

Doesn't mean I can't take you.

I doubt it.

[He knows that's total bullshit. The two people who've beaten him in a fight have been perfectly normal without any special abilities (aside from that Level 0's right hand, maybe). Jason probably could take him, even with his ability active.

But it's kind of fun to talk trash, regardless. He's the strongest esper in Academy City. Even if he isn't going around making his title known, it's not as if he's completely ignoring his status. He hasn't retired or anything.

He's noticed both Jason and their surroundings shifting around, and while he doesn't stop he looks around (inwardly glad Jason using using more of his weight to tease him because he'd for sure lose that battle).]

This where you're from?

[It could just be Central City, though. Or some other craphole American city? It could be that, it's not like Accelerator has been to many cities in the States before, he has no idea how similar they are.]

( as they keep walking, the blurred edges sharpen, and they're no longer near the lazarus pit, but in crime alley. jason stops, lips pressed tight together as he looks around. there's a woman wearing a very revealing red slip against the wall beside the theater, cigarette between her lips as she speaks to an extremely sleezy looking man who's standing a little too close to her--but jason's focus is down the alley a little further in, on an open door. )

Gotham City. ( a loose lift of his shoulders, as he finally releases accelerator and pulls himself up straight. gropes along the outside of his jacket, searching for--something in his pockets. ) Born an' raised.

( gunshots ring out clear as day from deeper in the alley. a woman screams, another man curses, a bottle drops from one of the higher open windows. there's the sound of kids running around and laughing, but there aren't any kids visible. )

[It's nice to get out of that cavern. Is a crappy city a step up? Accelerator isn't sure. It reminds him a little of Central, so there's that.

When Jason lets go of him Accelerator takes a step or two away absently, gazing at their surroundings, only briefly watching the man and woman. It takes him an extra half second to catch onto what's probably happening there, and when he realizes it he continues looking around indifferently.

The sound of the gunshots causes him to reach up to his choker, resting a finger against the switch and ready to change modes if necessary. Better to be cautious in case they have to deal with anyone wielding any firearms.]

Seems like a shithole.

No one's gonna shoot you, 'less this goes way off.

( he doesn't know what the hell the collar's for, but he can recognize the moments when accelerator goes for it. jason pulls a switchblade from his jacket. offers it over on a flat palm. who knows if it'll keep when it's off his person, logic doesn't seem to apply here, but just in case--knives are useful, accelerator might want one here. )

The door up there leads to a few ratty old apartments. We'll walk into mine, an' there'll be a body on the floor in the bathroom. Dead long enough to be firmly dead, but not long enough for rigor mortis to set in.

i was born to hold my hands up (open)

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

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)