The Red King

[lionhearrt]

Who: Mikoto + Open
What: Ra's Temple exploded, again. (3rd time!)
When: September 20
Where: Ra's Temple
Summary: Izumo is gone. Mikoto didn't take it well. 


a. Amid the rubble lies the god of the sun burning brightly as his namesake. The flames have yet to die down and the black keeps spreading, but it's not blight that mars his skin as Mikoto struggles to get the red aura under control.


b. Mikoto sits amid the rubble looking exhausted as white flames burn brightly from the palm of his hands as the god heals the burn marks.


c. Healing is an exhausting task, if anyone approaches him after he's healed they'll find Mikoto trying to get up and failing. He's about ready to pass out.


d. Wildcard - Go wild. Make up your own scenario. Catch him at anytime before he passes out or after he wakes up! OTA! 

Comments

[heartshutter]

[ From the (apparently incidental) post on the network, Tatara can tell something is very seriously, deeply wrong. What it is, exactly, he can’t say -- and it doesn’t matter, anyway. Point is, he’s on his way, dropping whatever he’s doing to head to the Temple of Ra right that instant.

What he finds when he arrives is half-unsurprising, and half... absolutely so.

Mikoto is engulfed in flame, in a way that his clansman hasn’t seen since they were mere kids, (or, one of them was, at least). But what’s alarming isn’t that -- it’s the black crawling over his skin. Blight? No; something else...

This happened to Mikoto after Tatara’s death, too, but the latter doesn’t know that, for obvious reasons. So, to see it now is... well, horrifying, frankly. But he won’t let that show for more than a moment before recovering as per usual. ]

King...!

[ He doesn’t ask what happened -- he already knows. If there’s rubble to be found lying on top of Mikoto, he’ll pull it off, visually checking the Red King over. ]

Are you hurt?

[ The answer is obvious, to some degree. That black on his skin isn't normal. ]

C

[lionhearrt]

[ By the time Totsuka arrives, Mikoto has healed himself. Thankfully, there are no burn marks for Totsuka to worry about. However, the god has used too much of his healing powers leaving him exhausted. Amid the field of rubble, Mikoto struggles to stand. He places a hand on a large piece of rubble using it to prop himself up but it cracks under his weight and crumbles almost sending the god down with it. Mikoto slams a hand against a sturdier piece of rubble as the other crumbles beneath his fingertips. He doesn't move, needing a moment to catch his breath as exhaustion claws at his senses making him unaware of Totsuka's approach until it's too late. The man's familiar voice sends a sense of dread through him as he forces his body to move and pushes off the piece of rubble to stand on his own two feet. Yet, his condition is obvious to anyone who laid eyes on him. Still, he makes an effort. ]

Totsuka.

[heartshutter]

[ It’s heart-wrenching, watching him struggle like this just to get to his feet. Surely if he had a choice, he wouldn’t want anyone to see it -- most especially Tatara. But at least the younger god doesn’t meet him with panic, or with pity, both of which the Red King would surely find infuriating. ]

Hang on, King -- I’ve got you.

[ Sure, says the weakling of the clan. But for his king, he’ll extend a helping hand, plant his heels, and dig deep to find the strength and leverage to help him up. ]

[lionhearrt]

[ Mikoto doesn't move, doesn't answer. Simply focuses on staying upright as exhaustion claws at him determined to bring him down after using the white flames for so long. But, he has just enough energy to teleport and that's enough. He need to involve Totsuka anymore, and this time, he won't let him help him. He'd made a promise to let him go. ]

Don't.

[heartshutter]

[ Pushing him away again? So soon...? ]

King?

[ He sounds confused, perhaps, but he'd been at least half-expecting this. It's been relatively par for the course, after all; but most especially here, in this sort of afterlife they share.

So instead of stooping, he'll let that offered hand fall back to his side and bring himself upright. A change of topic, then. ]

Your temple's seen better days, I think. [ A sheepish, but wry smile falls upon the veritable sea of rubble that is -- was? -- the Temple of Ra. ]

If you need a place to stay--... [ He pauses abruptly here because, well, in the event of this offer, what would he do about Reisi? He has to remind himself that it doesn't matter. If Mikoto isn't going to accept a literal helping hand, surely accepting refuge is a hilariously impossible idea. ] Well, you know my door is always open to you and Kusanagi-san, King.

[lionhearrt]

Izumo's gone.

[heartshutter]

[ ... ]


Sorry! I... don't think I heard you right.

[lionhearrt]

[ He closes his eyes, his shoulders sinking down in submission. ]

.....

[ He doesn't repeat himself. ]

[heartshutter]

[ AWKWARD LAUGHTER... ]

Sorry, sorry -- it almost sounded like you said Kusanagi-san is--...

[ It hits him then, belatedly for whatever reason, like a bolt out of the blue:

The rubble.

Those words.

The state of his king. ]

...since when?

[lionhearrt]

[ He gestures to the rubble. Since then, since his nightmare began or even earlier, he doesn't know. All he remembers is the feeling of a bond being shredded and Izumo... he could no longer feel Izumo. ]

[heartshutter]

[ A moment of silence passes.

A long, long moment.

For once, Tatara doesn't know what to say. Except... ]

...I'm sorry, King.

[lionhearrt]

[ The simple response has a flood of emotions crashing against him, mind and body both filling with a silent seething rage that tempers into agony at his own inability to stop it. Just like Totsuka. Honami. It builds inside him until he feels he's going to burst with the pressure of it all. Mikoto knows he can't stop himself. Not right now. And this... what happened with his temple. It wouldn't end there, so he turns away from it all. From Totsuka, his men. He can't control it. ]

Don't follow.

[ He tells him as he suddenly disappears, using the last of his strength to teleport himself under neath the rubble of his temple where his room still lay intact. It was made specifically for him, a structure he could not burn, a home he could not destroy and even beneath the rubble that covered it, the room lay intact dozens of feet beneath the ruins of the ruins of his temple, a fitting place for the King to fall. ]