Fantasy God Dances With the Outcast [Kevin x Howl]

[HowlingWoods]

JUNIPER BARON

"Oh if only only only we could be happy and ordinary like other people."​

If there's one thing living with the resistance has taught Junn, it's that when life goes to the shitter, he can always rely on his training to blow some steam. He had traveled some ways off from the where the resistance was based for now, wanting to practice in peace. His sweat was slowly starting to cool from where it had accumulated on the back of his button-up white oxford shirt. He'd always been the type to wear formal clothes, even when the occasion absolutely contradicted it. Some might guess it was his attempt to look more grown-up, but in truth it stemmed more from his childhood than anything else.

With each repetitive downwards swing of his katana, he infused all his anger and frustration. He'd lost to Vyrn again, and the bruises on his torso from the practice spear Vyrn had used were evidence of that. He felt sore all over, but more determined than ever to get stronger so he could beat Vyrn and finally prove to Relinor what he was really made of.

And that's when the ceiling began to crumble.

At first, it was just a trickle of dust falling from the top of the subway tunnel, something he saw out of the corner of his eye. He looked up, and the last thing he saw was a chunk of stone heading straight for him before he blacked out.

---------

He woke up with a pounding headache, only made worse by the ringing in his ears. He felt like a horse just kicked him in the head. His single eye cracked open, and it took a moment for his vision to adjust to the darkness. He became suddenly aware of a sharp pain in his right ankle and his left arm, and he sucked in a breath at the agony of it. He managed to prop his head up high enough to get a good look at his legs. His right leg was trapped beneath some sort of boulder. Moving it didn't seem like a good idea. His arm was in better condition - it seemed like he'd just bruised it pretty badly. No, scratch that. He saw blood. He must've cut it on his katana when he fell. Speaking of... By some miracle, his katana was still intact, and gripped tightly in his right hand. He had limited space, but there was some light, however dim it was, which meant he had air. And while his aching head seemed to be telling him to just go back to sleep, some part of his brain that wasn't concussed knew that if he did, he might not get out of here alive. He opened his mouth to call for help, but the dust in the air instantly sent him into a coughing fit, preventing him from speaking properly.

coded by natasha.

 

[kevintheradioguy]

RESCUE CREW

"Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe."

The dust might have been just what saved the youngster from getting even deeper into trouble. If even him swinging his weapon led to the collapse of the crumbling ceiling, what would an echo do? It brought down avalanches, and mine collapses, quarry disasters... and all those in a "safe", contained environment, looked after by professionals. The young man seemed to be out of luck.

But just for a while.

He might have gotten far, and he might have gotten hidden, but a crash like this would have never been left unnoticed in such dire times. A column of dust hanging over him was almost like a signal beacon, making sure that a group of the strongest and most capable men jumped into action - armed and ready - went to scout ahead. That might have been an enemy approaching after all. It might have been sabotage. For a few hours then, Junn was the talk of the town... as much of a town one could call this camp. They were fast, and swift, but not fast or swift enough, letting the youngster lie there, as if mocking like strict parents: now sit here and think about what you've done! type of parents, letting him soak in all the pain and discomfort, and even get embarrassed by it. He'll probably never hear the end of it too.

The footsteps appeared behind him, muffled and barely noticeable behind the rumbling of a few small never ending rockfalls here and there, as if an entire building above was filled with granite dust. "I don' see nobody.", a low female voice gurgled - a loud whisper, turning half-a-growl. "Ey, there's someone out there!", another one - male this time responded. A shadow in the dust stretched out and up, to see better. "Just one.", the man repeated. They seemed to consider whether or not to even bother, before one of the group, the bravest one, or the least indifferent one, stepped into the cloud of dust, coughing , and looking around. His huge... no, enormous shadow lay on Junn, covering him head to toe, and the young man clearly heard a smirk. Large paw grabbed him by the collar of the shirt, yanking him back, but his leg was stuck too tightly under the debris. He yanked again, only intensifying the pain, and seemingly adding to the damage already made. "Oi, Carl, help me out, it's the kid!" He threw over his shoulder, and obeying the command, someone much nimbler and swifter jumped into the tunnel, looking fidgety and disgusted even in his movements alone. As if he was choosing the rocks and tiles to step on - the cleaner ones.

The man named Carl didn't look like someone who could lift a concrete block pinning the young man to the ground, but maybe this wasn't the intent at all. He tried, grunting and puffing, and in a few moments the pressure was lifted, and the demon was being dragged out from the crash site. Though maybe a bit too early. His damaged leg scraped painfully, still pinned - albeit not as tight - and there was a crack suspiciously correlating with a burst of pain. One could only hope that it was some old wooden beam, and not the bones. And Junn was lifted up by a huge bull of a man he might have known under the name of Boris, being handled like a rag doll, as he swayed left and right in a huge palm that could probably crush his skull like a rotten tomato. He seemed to have fun with this, swinging the young man in front of the rest of the group - another three people - as if he was a prised catch in a fishing competition.

"Look who fucked up again!", Boris laughed, but no one did in response. They did worse. They just... shook their heads in disappointment. Maybe they were looking for a challenge; or perhaps they were just tired of Junn. "Why it always has to be you..." The large man breathed out - more of a statement than a question - letting the young man fall on the ground with a complete disregard about whether or not he was wounded.

coded by natasha.

 

[HowlingWoods]

JUNIPER BARON

"Oh if only only only we could be happy and ordinary like other people."​

When the coughing fit had passed, he slumped back against the hard stone, realizing his near-mistake when just the action of coughing had brought a stream of loose sediment down through the cracks above him and onto his chest. He was so, so very screwed. He couldn't get himself out, and he couldn't call for help. All he could do was simply...wait. But surely someone would have heard the sound of the tunnel collapsing by now. He was at least awake enough to dread the thought, knowing that while it was his only chance of survival at this rate, his luck would not be kind enough to send someone who actually gave a shit about him to his rescue. No, if he was lucky they'd actually rescue him instead of dropping a boulder on his head.

He was beginning to drift asleep, his trapped limb numb from the lack of blood flow, and while the cut on his arm would definitely need stitches - he could see that much even in the dark - it no longer hurt unless he moved it. He wasn't quite sure what that meant. But he was tired, his brain still pounding dully against his skull in time with his heart beat. Or, at least, he thought it was in time with his heart. He'd be damned if he actually knew, but it sounded about right. What was he thinking about again? Everything felt fuzzy, and the brief moments of clarity he'd had thanks to the adrenaline were now fading. He chewed the inside of his cheek, using the pain to keep him awake, although he'd forgotten a while ago what exactly he was staying awake for.

Then he heard it, the faint sounds of a voice, but he was unable to make out words in his foggy state. He cracked open a single eye just in time to spot a shadow looming over him, and suddenly he was being yanked from the wreckage, a choked cry sputtering from his lip at the pain that suddenly ignited in his leg. What had once been dim embers was suddenly a wildfire, and he briefly lost consciousness from the force of the pain.

Perhaps it was a blessing that it happened just then, because it was in his sleep that the bone in his leg was snapped, broken by the rough treatment. When he came to, he was dangling by some sort of grip on his had. All he knew was that it hurt, and that he could hear scorching laughter behind him. He didn't open his eyes again, but he managed to make out words this time, although staggered as they were. "Look...fucked up...!" One voice exclaimed, and another one, calmer but no less disconcerting in it's tone, spoke up. "Why it...has...you..."

Junn mumbled something sluggishly that probably sounded a lot more coherent in his brain than it did out loud, "Diddin thuk oop..." It was in that moment that he realized he was suddenly no longer dangling in the air, but on the ground again, or at least some form of solid surface. He didn't move, his eyes closed as he slipped back into unconsciousness.

coded by natasha.

 

[kevintheradioguy]

RESCUE CREW

"Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe."

There was some saving in the uncosciousness. Quiet, cool, comfortable bliss of floating in the darkness, not feeling anything. Deprived of oxygen, with brain trying to comprehend what was happening, it was nothing but a feeling of flowing in cool waters, with dark skies peppered with bright, toxic, colourful spots and smudges around, and a faraway song of myriads of voices, until...

"Wake up!"

A flush of ice-cold water landed on the face of a young demon, as he was being yanked back into reality.

A large man holding a water bottle stood over him - a reminder of hat just happened, and, judging from the looks of it, he was ready to pour the rest of liquid out just to spite.

"Who the fuck do you think you are - a princess!?" He barked out, heavy boot pushing the youngster under the ribs - though with that size it did feel more like a puch. "We've been slaving away for the likes of you with no food or water for weeks, broken legs and crushed lungs, and you're too important to use your fucking legs when you got a slight hit on the head!?" He leaned down. "That's why you're no match for Vyrn. He'll turn you into dust even if he'll be blinded, tied up, and only attacking you with his arse! A slight scratch on the leg, and you're immediately 'Oh god, look at me, I'm dying, carry me to the camp, my poor heart cannot take it!'." Boris make a fake, high-pitched voice with pompous accent, really pushing the princess aspect. "I ain't fucking carrying your arse anywhere! You can breathe - you can get back on your own! 'bout time you learn from your mistakes and man up, instead of hiding behind your daddy's back! So get the fuck up, and stop ruining our fucking camp!"

It was a real miracle that with an attitude like that he didn't just throw a piece of concrete over Junn's skull, and say it was an accident.

coded by natasha.

 

[HowlingWoods]

JUNIPER BARON

"Oh if only only only we could be happy and ordinary like other people."​

The water that splashed onto his face made him gasp into consciousness, accidentally inhaling some of it in the process. He choked and sputtered, coughing up the water in his lungs a moment later. But the action had succeeded not only in waking him up, but also clearing his head to some extent. His vision still felt like it was swimming, but he could hear their voices clearly even through the ringing in his ears. He just wished he couldn't hear it.

He was, of course, used to the jabs about his race. He'd almost become desensitized to it, in a way. But as the other brought up Vyrn, red-hot anger colored his expression, and he managed to sit up, only for his vision to spin, and whatever anger he felt was dissipated by the dizziness he felt. He clutched his head as the other went on speaking, but he managed to grind out through clenched teeth, "I don't need your sorry ass to carry me anywhere.."

As if to prove his point, his hand reached out for his katana, sitting not far from him, and he gripped it in shaky hands, before using the blade to prop himself up. He managed to pull his feet under him, but as soon as he put weight on his right leg, it gave out from underneath him, and he collapsed to the ground again.

coded by natasha.

 

[kevintheradioguy]

RESCUE CREW

"Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe."

The giant man had a huge smile across his dark face. "O-o-of course you don't." This was said in such a friendly tone there was no doubt that he was mocking. And he was mocking even more, as he stepped back, alongside with his group of people - the fidgety one already returning from the collapse - as if to give their 'master' space. Clearing out of the stage, so to speak. Giving a spotlight to the star.

Said star, however, was the one of comedy it seemed, as the next thing that happened was a burst of laughter, echoing through the air as soon as the light body of a demon hit the ground once more. "And this is a person who wants to win against Vyrn?", the woman that was first heard commented. She had big, black, eerie eyes, starting directly at Junn. "He can't even stand up! How can he take a punch!" Her knees bent down and up a little, making her almost pounce in excitement, like if she was a boxer, ready for a sparring.

"Ah, you little demon asshole." Boris shook his head, sighing. "You people always get big-headed and think you're all that, ain't'cha? And then a couple of pebbles fall onto your dumb little heads, and suddenly you're all blood, sweat, and tears, and screaming for help. How damn useless can you even be!?"

The man who went by the name of Carl, snorted, dusting his pants, wincing at the sight of how they were ruined. He dressed fancier than the rest, and seemed to take personal offence at being forced to move around concrete. But, since Boris was one of them, he decided to blame Junn for ruining his suit instead.

coded by natasha.