all these things must come to pass [complete]

[ornithophobia]

Characters:  notexcalibur, ornithophobia, ih8spiders , alphaspider... Also stalwartcane and only7percent . And now with Action seizeyoursouls.
Location: Commercial District
Rating: PG-13ish.
Time: August 10th.  Late afternoon, nearing 5pm.
Description: England's turn to take his medicine -- and a certain person happens onto the scene afterwards. Our villain finds this a serendipitous turn of events, but... In the immortal words of

Comments

I hope he has some of that gas remaining. +_+

[ih8spiders]

He should never have taken his attention off of Crane, and the sudden attack would have worked, but unfortunately for the doctor, Kurapika was used to moving at speeds a lot faster than what normal people were capable of. His eyes widening was the only indication he gave of his momentary surprise before he dodged, twisting to the side to avoid the lunge and grabbing the transformed hand right at the syringes. His free hand shot forward to take hold of Crane's other arm before he could think of attacking with it, too.

"I am thinking of what's best for the continued survival of everyone here, and you're not helping," he growled.

Oh of course, there's plenty to share with the class!

[ornithophobia]

--oh mmph, this one really wasn't bluffing about whatever physical capabilities he had, was he? The failure, however small, irked him and he fixed a visible glower on Kurapika as evidence. And more than that, using self-defence as an excuse was all well and good but this matter of "doing what's best" just positively reeked of self-righteousness.

"How very altruistic of you," he hissed, making a half-hearted attempt at extricating his hands from Kurapika's grasp... Before a better idea occurred to him. "Allow me to return the favour with a little behavioural correction. I'm afraid you won't last long with an attitude like that--"

The close range had its advantages, and Scarecrow did (literally) have some tricks up his sleeve. With a sudden effort, he wrenched his arm in the direction of the other man's face, a cloud of toxin already spreading them. The mask would spare Scarecrow of the effects, but Kurapika may not be so lucky.

lol this is kind of tiring

[ih8spiders]

He realized too late that no one ever clarified just how the aerosol form of the toxin was administered, or even how far its range reached--and he'd automatically assumed that it came in a handy canister or some kind of visible container that Crane would have to take out and shake over his victims. The cloud of gas was spreading now, and his head was in the thick of it; Kurapika squeezed his eyes shut in reflex, remembering Cloud's warning, and forced himself to stop breathing in, but whatever the substance was made of, it was light enough to get into everything, like fine dust, and he felt it sticking to the back of his throat.

Nothing happened at first, but the feel of the gas lingering in his throat triggered a coughing fit that turned into an urge to gag--what was that, no one said anything about the toxin smelling like smoke and blood--

No. Kurapika's eyes snapped open. The thought was there, that he'd failed to keep the gas out and was going to have to brace himself for the effects, but nothing could have prepared him for this

you're telling me!

[ornithophobia]

A deep, long exhale -- hah, for a moment there he'd really almost thought that he was in a bind, but there was nothing to fear now (only in a manner of speaking, of course). Logically, he should have taken the moment and retreated, but this seemed to be an evening just full of ridiculous risks and... And something about Kurapika's reaction was very interesting

You're awesome for doing all this. <3

[ih8spiders]

No, it wasn't that he couldn't hear anyone, it's because he didn't want to listen--the very faint sounds of screaming rising to a steady chorus, the angry ghosts of his fightingdyingdead kin overlaid everywhere he looked--there was his uncle getting ripped apart by bullets no physical shield could have blocked, an aunt being choked by silk-fine threads, cousins getting sliced in half, his father with a fist through his chest, his gentle mother with her head brutally twisted all the way around and how why did he know how they died just by looking at them, he left that morning and spent the day in the forest and he couldn't have known their terrorragepaingriefhatred he was just a child

The realization suddenly struck that he was alone now, the lastlast Kuruta and he had to hide and find everyone's eyes but he was going to fail he wasn't strong enough couldn't have protected anyone can't let anyone know he was still alive--

Kurapika flinched, fell back tried to scramble back, there was someone in front of him someone huge and black and

<3! all thanks to you guys.

[ornithophobia]

He didn't even pause, not even for a derisive snort of laughter, he'd give no hint at relenting for Kurapika's sake. No, he was interested in those eyes of his, what they're seeing in the momentary haze of terror. It was a very private world, one's fears. Scarecrow could no more guess what the other man was enduring than he could fear, himself. The master of fear had a long way to go, but this... Was a good start.

Besides, there was something to be said for merely watching this one cower after all the big talk earlier. Talk about reaping karma.

"No use begging something of fear itself. Give in." Because while the cowering was all well and enjoyable, it wasn't helping Scarecrow get a good look at those eyes of his. Sidestepping the protests, he grabbed Kurapika by the hair and pushed back roughly -- get those hands away from his face and some light on...

[ih8spiders]

Demon. Monster. The figure touching his face was like something right out of his nightmares, black and formless and reeking of malice and death--no, not exactly formless; Kurapika watched in abject terror as the shadows receded to reveal a high forehead, slicked-back hair, cross-shaped tattoo and cold black eyes like twin pits in hell set above a cruel smirk.

There was the barest flicker of recognition--it's Kuroro no why does he look so scary he wouldn't do this he promised he wouldn't kill or harm him but like the quicksilver sighting of something in the murky depths of a muddied lake, the thought flashed away and died before he could grab hold, and he was looking up at a stranger once again, looking at his parents' murderer, staring at the reason why he was in so much pain.

The man was going to kill him. No, wait, those hands--what are they doing why are they so near his eyes eyes the man wanted his red eyes like he dug out all the red Kuruta eyes from his clan's mutilated bodies

[ornithophobia]

Definitely red. There didn't seem to be any practical reason for the colour -- was it blood, perhaps? It was certainly an odd mechanism with which to react to fear (possibly other strong emotions as well) and he couldn't fathom the reason for it. Yet as it was, he had no real reason to investigate further.

But before he could turn his attention to more important matters, he caught the abrupt shift in expression and he knew something was wrong -- that certainly wasn't the look of terror that he'd expected -- and the sudden vice-like grip around his wrist was all the confirmation he needed.

Shit. He should have been able to break the grasp easily because after all, this man was drugged out of his mind, but no, it only tightened and tightened and suddenly he felt like an animal with one of its limbs caught in a hunter's trap -- damned if he had to chew his own arm off, but just as the absurd image occurred to him he was quite aware of a sickening crunch, a very unnatural grind of bone on bone. There was some pain, but it felt

I am starting to feel bad for Crane. >:

[ih8spiders]

Moving was almost impossible. He hurt with the phantom pain of dying and the horrific wounds he can see on his family and friends and is this the kind of agony they felt at having their eyes ripped out by hands only intent on murder and stealing and self-gain? His own eyes were flaring, phantom pain, sympathetic pain, he felt like they might burst out of their sockets and

--it was dizzying and his head was pounding because there were morbidly fascinating swirls of darker red in the red he could see, like eddies and streams of blood in his eyes but he was still alive, he could still move, he could still see clearly and he could see and hear his attacker swearing and struggling now, trying to get away, broken wrist apparently too insignificant an injury to cow him into submission--

No"You're not getting away this time!" Not again, not ever again

aww, he had it comin'. just like that song from Chicago!

[ornithophobia]

The sudden motion -- though it felt as if the very joints of his wrist were tearing apart -- did give him some absurd hope that maybe his hand would be freed, and then he'd be free to show him fear a hundred, a thousand times worse than he'd just experienced and put out that rage like a candle. It was a hope that lasted only a split second because he suddenly had another new pain to contend with