Show me your inner self... [Closed]

[inyourmidst]

Characters: Gin, Shinjiro, and later Cirucci.
Content: The drugs are starting to lose their effect, so Gin has offered to help Shinji find other ways of keeping his Persona under control; namely giving it an outlet of violence.
Setting: In a clearing, a reasonable hike from the fairgrounds.
Time: Mid- to late-afternoon.
Warnings: Sparring and

Comments

I dunno, I think these deer might be rabid. 8/

[inyourmidst]

Gin laughed gaily as Shinsou returned to his hand, humming in satisfaction at the trail of crimson on its tip. "Nice to see you can keep your concentration," he called. Castor hadn't vanished yet, though it seemed to be visibly hesitating at Shinjiro's injury. It might have been polite to give him a minute to balance himself, but Gin tended to have an almost vindictive urge to press an advantage when he had one. He locked eyes with Castor's furious gaze and felt Shinsou rise in response to that challenge. He took aim.

There were things he probably should have asked beforehand. He didn't know Shinji's limits, or how much strain this whole episode would put on him, or what would happen if the Persona itself was attacked. If it really was a part of Shinji's mind then he might very well do some serious, irreversible damage by injuring it. Then again, zanpakuto seemed to have a similar sort of nature, and those could be broken and rebuilt without too much setback to the user.

That was only a theory, of course, but Gin's decision on the subject was summed up with a gleeful mental shrug and a why don't we test and find out?

This time when Shinsou lashed out - slower than before, the only concession he was willing to make - he aimed for the horse's dark next, wondering whether manifestations could bleed.

Yumyum, tastes like rabies! 8D

[adiosasshole]

Shinjiro didn't expect Gin to attack Castor, even though he should have. It was just that he didn't have much practice fighting -people-, only Shadows. And they instinctually attacked the summoner, never the Persona itself.

And normally an attack couldn't do shit to Castor. It wasn't really -there-, just an image of Shinjiro's power. But Shinsou wasn't a normal attack. Metaphysically it was just the same as Castor, just in another form. So while the Persona didn't bleed, it did react.

There's nothing quite like the horrible noise of a horse in terror or pain. It was like the scream of a murdered woman.

And while Castor didn't bleed, Shinjiro did. He hacked, as if hit in the gut, eyes going wide as a trail of blood escaped his nose. The look on his face was one of almost comic shock. No one, -No- one had ever been able to hurt Castor directly. He had no idea what that could do, to the Persona or himself.

And of course, Castor faded out. At least for now.

((occ: You know, I read "bleed" and "breed" at first. First thought: OMG Are Shinsou and Castor gonna have metaphysical babies?! D8 Do not want!))

...ARE YOU EATING THE DEER?!?! DDDDDDDDD:

[inyourmidst]

Gin could get a empathic sense of anything his zanpakuto came into contact with, and the contact with Castor had been...unusual. It wasn't quite tangible, but it hadn't been like hitting nothing either. More like cutting water, which looked solid and substantial right up until you broke the surface with a splash that distorted the reflection, and just like that Castor vanished into nothing.

But not without effect. He tilted his head at Shinji, his smile utterly unaffected by the cook's obvious pain.

"Oh, sorry," he said with false apology. "Did that hurt? I didn't realize I wasn't supposed to touch it like that."

...maybe ^^ Deer meat is nomy

[adiosasshole]

Shinjiro scowled at Gin, spitting a wad of blood and other things off to the side before straightening back up. The attack had hurt, yes, but there was more to it. Something that lasted longer then the pain. He had -felt- something, and could still feel it, something from the zanpakto touching what was basically his soul.

As someone much better with words then him once said, it was like being touched by dozens of twisting snakes. It made the hair on his neck stand up. It was more intrusive, more skin crawling, then any of the after-hours activities they might have shared. And it scared the -crap- outta him.

His hand danced over the butt of his Envoker as he pondered if he wanted to summon Castor again right away, but he didn't. Doing that too fast would be bad... he could feel it. Instead he straightened up, rolling his shoulders. The wound on his side had already stopped bleeding and, oddly enough, had started to heal as Castor's regenerative abilities kicked in. They only ever seemed to show up when the adrenaline was pumping through his body and the magic and psi of using the Persona were flowing. He could be shot over and over, and Castor wouldn't do a damn thing for him unless he called on it. Selfish bastard.

"Fuck off Ichimaru, ain' any different then any other time you touched me." He hissed before darting forward. He had to close the distance. From far away Gin could slice him like a turkey. He swung the axe, trying to keep the other man on his toes.

BUT THE TEAL...I'm sure that's not good for you. D8

[inyourmidst]

Just looking at the two weapons, it looked like the axe should have smashed into Shinsou and thrown the much smaller weapon right from Gin's hand, but brute strength wasn't quite a good enough substitute for training and finesse, and Shinsou wasn't just a normal short sword. Gin caught the axe in mid-swing, blocking the haft with the flat side of Shinsou's blade. He could have cleaved the inferior weapon in two, if he'd had half a mind to do it, but considering the blade had been arcing towards his head and momentum probably would have still finished the job that wouldn't have been the smartest of ideas.

"Isn't it?" he asked lowly, his voice losing the light, cheerful edge but not the dark amusement. "Does that mean you're still enjoying yourself?"

While it wasn't a good idea to try any sort of distance battle against Gin and his zanpakuto, closeness wasn't necessarily any safer, especially since Gin had never been one to play fair. Swinging wide had left Shinji unguarded right where the cut on his ribs was, and Gin reached out and pressed his hand right to it, the movement somewhere between a grab and a brutal caress.

Nahhh... it's full of vitamins

[adiosasshole]

Shinjiro grunted, trying to press his weight down when the weapons met. But for all his power Gin was just more skilled, and his balance kept Shinji from doing anymore then pressing against a brick wall.

Still, he smirked. Even though he hurt, and Castor was still twitching in horror in the back of his head... he -was- enjoying himself in a twisted way. His body loved the strain and his blood was nice and hot.

"Heh, better than sitting in the kitchen all- graaahhh...." His retort was cut off by Gin touching the wound on his side. The flesh was hot and pulsing as his body still rushed to heal the gash, and the touch made the blood start flowing again, though still not very fast. The pressure on his weapon lessened as Shinjiro faltered from the pain, the cords in his neck standing out.

But it might make your hair turn green!

[inyourmidst]

In that faltering moment, Gin expertly shoved the axe away, freeing himself from the restriction of holding it back so he could press forward. He could feel the pattern of movement on his veins, a thousand hours of practice kicking in to guide his hand, because with Shinsou free he could drive its blade up between Shinjiro's ribs, or lean back to slash across his throat.

He didn't do either of those, though. Instead he leaned in with uncomfortable, intimate closeness, his lips brushing against Shinji's. It wasn't a kiss - too shallow for that - so much as he was just stealing a taste of the blood that had dripped down to the cook's mouth. It lasted for no longer than the fraction of a second it would take to blink, and then he turned away with a short, satisfied sound, his back insultingly exposed and-

-with Shinji's evoker twirling from one finger, having been plucked neatly from the holster in that brief moment of distraction.

...hot.

[adiosasshole]

The not-kiss shocked him even more than the jabbing fingers in his wound had. So it wasn't surprising that Gin had taken his Envoker. Hell, he probably could have stripped him naked by the time Shinjiro noticed.

But eventually he -did- notice, spinning around and growling. Damn it! Without it he was screwed. Weapon to weapon would be a very short fight.

"Goddamn it, Ichimaru!" he snarled, swiping out for the device .... if it wasn't for the blood, it would almost have been funny. Like the teasing of siblings. Sadistic, blood-thristy, incestuous siblings... but still.

No, no, Shinji. The stripping naked part comes later~ X3

[inyourmidst]

The evoker felt a little unusual in his hand. Heavier than he would have expected it, and the shape of it didn't quite fit naturally to his grip. He'd never really used a gun, only held one once or twice because the Academy had tried to insist that he should know how to use one and Gin had stubbornly rejected those lessons. When his first practice shot had nearly gone through his instructor's foot they'd gracefully decided not to push the issue.

But he'd seen Shinji do it and it didn't look hard. Point, pull trigger. Ridiculously simple, and after laughingly holding the device just out of Shinji's reach he put a stop to the next attempted lunge by pressing the gun to the other man's temple with deadly swiftness.

"Let me do it," he said, almost but not quite a demand, his finger curled around the trigger but resisting the urge to simply pull it until he saw acceptance in Shinji's eyes. The boundaries always started to twist when they stood too close, and it was hard to tell whether Gin was doing him a favor or just looking for another chance to hurt him. The way his other hand came to rest on Shinji's hip, Shinsou's hilt nestled against his skin and the flat edge of the blade curving against his side didn't make it any clearer.

Oh my~ B3

[adiosasshole]

A sharp intake of breath, and Shinjiro froze. Blade on his hip and side, not-gun pressed against his head, blood sticking and getting tacky on his skin...and Gin, very much in his space. It was a still, intense moment.

While he remembered how to breath, Shinjiro thought it over. The Envoker should work regardless of who pulled the trigger, and it would give him the chance to get back into the fight. But on the other hand it was letting Gin have a hand in something very... personal.

But, he had learned, sometimes it was smarter to humor Ichimaru. Pick his battles.

He nodded.

[inyourmidst]

Gin's victory smirk was full of white, even teeth that somehow gave the impression of fangs even though they weren't. Shinjiro couldn't move much, not with the implied threat of both weapons pointing at him, and Gin was in no particular hurry, it seemed. The muzzle of the gun shifted around as though hunting for some perfect mark of accuracy even though there was no possible way he could miss. The cold metal kissed at Shinji's forehead, trailed down his cheek right along the outskirts of his eye before moving back further, circling to just behind the ear.

He held Shinji closer, bracing him slightly against the remembered jerk the initial shot had caused, and prepared himself for the deafening gunshot as he abruptly twisted the evoker harshly against the cook's skull and pulled the trigger.

sjvnvsjdvb I should have expected this log to end up sounding pervy

[adiosasshole]

The cook's eyes screwed shut as Gin traced his face with the fake gun, his body giving tiny jerks as he waited for the shot. Adrenaline made every nerve sing, and he could have sworn he could feel every little pore in the metal.

When it finally hit, his head practically flung back, his eyes shooting open, wide and glazed. The noise was deafening this close, and the pulse of magic, spiritual energy, and psi was like being dunked in a tank of menthol. Tingly and almost-cold, pleasant in a weird way, and oddly similar to the strange blue fluid in that familiar needle.

Castor seemed to -pour- out from the metaphyscial hole on the reverse side of Shinjiro's head, where the shards of "glass" flew out. It loomed over the both of them, half blocking the late afternoon sun.

We do have something of a precedent to live up to~! Is it good for you too, bb?

[inyourmidst]

The noise was shockingly loud, but it was the drenching rush of magic that made Gin's nerves radiate with defensive tension. Someone else's power wasn't quite the same as your own, and that icy numbness could just as easily burn if there were any cracks in your defense for it to seep in to. Gin didn't have any, or shouldn't have, but he deliberately opened himself up to it, letting intoxicating power slip right into his veins, tasting it, trying to measure it against the rest of his experiences. It was delightfully unbalancing, a high that hit faster and harder than any drug could, but Gin was in far better control of his addictions than Shinji and knew better than to take more than he could handle.

Standing in the shadow of that monster was just as thrilling. The gun technically wasn't a danger any more, but Gin kept it pressed to Shinji's head anyway as though it offered some measure of control.

"Show me what else it can do," he commanded, voice low and sounding just slightly slurred, drunk on adrenaline and magic. This was supposed to have been a fight but Gin had decided to change the rules. Now it was a different game. Simon says. "There's an oak tree behind you. Tear it down."

One day they're just going to have coffee, sans perv. Heads will explode. <3

[adiosasshole]

The gun didn't bother him. It had been pressed against him so many times over the last three years that it was almost natural now. But Shinsou was still there, and his healing, hypersensitive skin could feel that sharpness. So trying anything funny would be asking for more abuse. If he thought Gin would just slide the metal between his ribs he would have considered it... but he was more concerned with all the things the man could do without killing him.

"Tch. Since when was this a fucking Show-and-tell game Ichimaru?" He quiped, even as he turned his head to look at the tree. It was old, big. Not one of the ancient giants he had seen from the ship occasionally as they traveled over the thicker wilds of Reial, but no sapling for sure. He frowned. His powers, though strong, were horridly specialized. He could slice a man in half, but a tree was a lot sturdier. He focused, collecting his will. He felt strength pooling into his gut, and funneling back to Castor.

"Now." He whispered when he felt it crest, and once again those invisible blades shot out, slicing into the tree. Wood felw in random directions as a jagged cut formed at the tree's base. Not all the way through, but close enough that it could no longer hold itself up and toppled backwards with a crash.

Castor faded again, and Shinjiro was outright panting.

Mine will be the first to do so, I think. A scene without subtext? Madness!

[inyourmidst]

"Impressive," he murmured approvingly, eyeing the splintered remnants of the tree. He didn't think Shinji was holding anything back from him in an attempt to hide the depth or scope of his abilities, so from what he'd seen Castor appeared to be a creature of only force and rage, entirely physically focused. The small bit of healing he'd seen, currently manifesting in the way Shinji's wound had nearly dried up despite the ferocity of Shinsou's bite, was practically an afterthought. Subconscious instead of directed.

"But you're breathing so hard already? You only called it twice." Which made it double the number of times he'd called it out in months, so little wonder he was out of practice. Gin pressed the evoker back against his skull with an almost affectionate sort of cruelty.

"I wonder how many more times we could pull it out of you," he mused aloud, stroking the trigger in a way that made in clench with a soft click. "I could hold you just like this-" Shinsou pressing against Shinji's side for emphasis, "-and we could keep shooting until there's nothing left. Do you think that would make it silent?"

Yummy Subtext Coffee?

[adiosasshole]

It was true, he was out of practice. But if it had been just that... god if it had been just that. But what he hadn't told Gin, what he'd been too scared to tell him, was that his skills fed from the most basic of power wells: His own life. Not all of them, of course. The focusing skill and the terror inflicting ability were pure old fashioned magic, as well has his healing. But all his attacks cut him to cut his enemies. Though the wounds were invisible, he could still feel them.

During those dark days after Amada's death, he had considered how far he could take it, and had ran the streets of various Vohemaro cities, killing inky monsters under the Full Moon alone, never resting. Eventually he had passed out, his damned reflexive healing skills constantly bringing him back from the brink of death just to pull Castor out again.

The mixed horror and appeal of the memories probably showed on his face as he shook his head slowly, not trusting himself to speak.