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[LOG] the things that pour down upon you

Who: Asano Rin (revengeisalie) and Pain (callmelegion); also open for anyone who might be with Pain.
Status: Closed with aforementioned leeway.
Style: Paragraph; Third Person.
Where: Raisato
When: Week 2, Day 3; just after this.
Rating: R for violence

The tenth day Rin spent in Kannagara seemed like the longest in her life. It had begun on an uneasy note: with the howling of monsters and ghost-creatures (but too real, too solid) on the prowl, she had slept lightly, the sounds invading her dreams and keeping her alert. She had awoken once, shortly before dawn, her body strung tight as a bow and sore from the tension. All the noise outside sounded way too close to her window, and so she had gotten up carefully, not without checking the ground for monsters and chiding herself for being so paranoid, and gone over to the window. A glance outside had made her regret her choice, for the village was just crawling with all the dregs of the underworld she'd expected to leave behind along with the childhood stories that were there to scare you into being good.

After that, she'd gone back to sleep -- she didn't know how -- and awoken again when the sun was out. When she ahd discovered they still had blood in the basin instead of water, she'd decided to venture outside and go look for actual water, as the noise had died down. Turned out it was a false security, and she could only barely evade the fangs of a monster in the shadow of a house and run back to her home like hell.

That was when she'd made her network entry.

Rukia had vanished immediately after, swearing to fight the monsters, and also to come back alive.

Hours went by since then, crawling with a langour like quicksand slowly devouring her. Rin felt like she was being swallowed up, too, by something invisible, by time or this place itself. There wasn't much to do. There weren't even many people to speak with on the network. She guessed those stronger than her were busy fighting monsters. She couldn't clean the rooms, because there was no water. She couldn't cook without water. Point of fact, she hadn't eaten nor drunk anything since two days before. Her throat felt try as parchment, raspy as if the quicksand was filling her mouth, too, filling her out, trying to dry her, silence her, mummify her. Meanwhile her stomach was left empty and growling, and Rin was half afraid the sound might attract something unpleasant.

She almost thought her paranoia validated when something scratched insistently at her door. It did so for an endless stretch of time, which Rin spend cowering in a corner and moving as little as possible, her sword lying next to her. Since yesterday, she hadn't moved without it, had carried the shoulder bag that served as a sword band with her wherever she went, even if it was just from the hall to the main room.

There was one time during the day when she'd thought she couldn't stand the thirst anymore (how long could a person go without water, anyway? Not much longer than she had, she thought), and this led her to give in to temptation and take a sip of the blood-not-water in the basin. Once swallowed it, her body had reacted violently. Immediately, bile had risen up her throat and forced itself past her lips, causing her to throw the meager contents of her stomach right back up onto the kitchen floor. She didn't enter the kitchen anymore from then on.

Soon after, she started to feel odd. Like the ground was getting unstable beneath her. Kind of like she was walking on yōkan (she wondered if it tasted sweet, too). A dark mass made of jelly and --

-- and blood. She was walking on blood. And it reached everywhere, to -- to the horizon. There was no house anymore, just a sea of blood-jelly. When she looked down again, she saw a faint glow and something manifesting. Faces. Two faces floated up and up, taking streams of the wobbly mass with them, forming into bodies -- those of mother and father.

Rin screamed, but there was no sound.

Mom and dad were smiling at her, brokenly. Bloodstains spread on their bodies, cutting her father's arms off from his body and painting the mask-maker's designs on her mother. Then a ripple went through them, other faces floated up and replaced theirs. More bodies and still more formed, and before her stood twenty men of Ittō-ryū, and two more: Dōa and Isaku before her. There was a malicious smirk on Dōa's face while Isaku looked apologetic, but they charged in on her with no remorse, like the rest of the figures. Rin ran. She didn't know how, she didn't know where, just that she had to run.

Then she wasn't running anymore, but falling. She fell and fell and fell until she landed on something just soft enough not to crush her, but hard enough to hurt, something that consisted of torsos and limbs and heads. A mountain of corpses. Rin threw up again, turned over and threw up until she spat blood, spat out all her lifeblood which seeped through the bodies, soaked them, until their eyes started glowing beneath the otter masks and the mountain was crawling with life. Rin was still throwing up and then she fell down, lifeless. A thousand fanged faces moved in on her, devouring her alive --

When she awoke, Rin screamed loudly. Her breath went heavily and she wiped the sweat off her face before touching the ground with her hands and flexing her toes against it. Solid; tatami mat. A sigh of relief escaped her from deep within her lungs, almost violently. Then she finally started noticing the world again. Seemed like it had been an eternity since she lost it. It was dark now, dark inside and out. Still, she could easily see; the moon was bright tonight, though filtered by the paper screens. She wondered how late it was. Might be that the sun just set; might be past midnight. There was noise outside again, howling, panting... crackling?

And where was Rukia, anyway? The day was over. From what Rin knew about Rukia's physical condition, there was no way she could sustain a fight that long, and Rin knew that as long as Rukia was out there, she would be fighting. Except -- maybe she'd sought shelter in one of the other empty houses. There was another crackling noise, and Rin held her breath. Another, more rapidly succeeded by another; and as the crackling noises became more frequent, the rest of the sounds subsided.

Then everything was silent. "Rukia?", whispered Rin, absurdly, feeling like she hadn't escaped the dream's clutches just yet. But then she swallowed and set her jaw. She had to keep it together now. That quiet was almost scary in its finality; a bad feeling crept up on her. She wouldn't be able to rest if she didn't find Rukia and knew her safe before. And so Rin made a decision.

She got up and did a check-through: sword, tantō, knives. Everything was in place. When she put a string of knives back into her sleeve, her hands were shaking. Her whole body was. It was a little hard reattaching the knives to her arm that way, but she managed. Her hands fell back to her sides, clenched into fists. Rin took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Her mind was racing with a thousand possible plans she could make, but she knew she had no time. If the monsters were actually quiet for the moment, she had to act fast.

Okay. No back-up plans, no fancy tricks. Just a girl and her sword standing between life and death.

Rin gritted her teeth while she opened the front door to face the cold glare of the moon.

Fine. So be it.

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Kannagara - The Way of the Gods

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