justonetruth | (no subject)

[no Kaito here. But blood for blood, that can be arranged.

As Aoko tears around one of the Mansion's many hallways, she collides rather solidly with a figure smelling of dankness and brimstone. It goes down with a pained cry in a mess of red skirts, and when the fabric settles, she'll find her own face staring wide-eyed back at her.

Or near to her own face, anyway. It's stricken with the lingering remnants of some horror, skin streaked with blood and some sort of chitinous green ooze. Paler fluid drips down one temple, reflecting a shimmering, somewhat greenish texture that seems poisonous, and the dirty brown hair is liberally coated with silk cobwebs.

Aoko's double makes a sound of surprise and attempts to scurry backwards, but she's hampered by her skirt and what seems like a very ill constitution. In fact, if you didn't know better, you'd say she looks near death]

[Aoko yelps, tumbling back. It's a hard landing, and for a moment, she's dazed. ]

Ouch… [ Nothing compared to being shot, yes. But in her experience, knowing what greater pain feels like doesn't really make smaller pains hurt any less. After taking a second to breathe, to get her bearings back, Aoko looks up, and… ]

… A-Aoko?

[Sometime during her run she brushes past one incarnation of the person she is looking for-- a Kaito dressed in tousled, wrinkled Victorian-esque clothing-- and one whose gaze is almost immediately drawn toward the bright red stain on her shirt.

Concern is immediate, of course-- something he doesn't even bother trying to mask when he sees her. Even though he's no stranger to seeing Aoko in bloodied and torn clothing (not with her line of work in the Neath), the exact placement of that stain is fairly alarming, and he reaches out to grab her by her upper arm as she runs past.]

Miss Aoko--? [his tone is both inquisitive and somewhat chiding] What happened to you?

[ The placement, and the sheer amount of blood; it's glaringly, alarmingly obvious that the wound was fatal. Had been fatal. Should have been fatal? Either way, she's trembling—he can feel it when closes his hand around her arm.

She jerks to a halt, staring at him wildly. ] Kaito! Wait—No—You're not…

You—

[she stops and takes a deep, shuddering breath, only to lose it again in a series of chest-rattling coughs. She presses a hand to her mouth to help them die down, her gaze flicking wildly over the electrically-lit halls]

This— this is—

[—not the River. But she's not sure she can relax yet]

[he's seen men and women survive worse in his time-- but he's also seen them succumb to much less. either way, it's enough to attract his attention, and his grip on her arm is firm]

I am, actually. Though it's unlikely I'm the one you're familiar with. [pulling her toward him, also firmly but not roughly, to get a better look at where the injury had been]

[ Scrambling to her feet doesn't work. She tries; of course she tries, but with her momentum lost the shakes are back in full-force. Part of Aoko wants to move on as quickly as she can, to find Kaito, to make sure he's alright—but most of her zeroes in on the disorientingly familiar girl in front of her.

She stumbles closer, half walking and half crawling. ] I'm sorry, I don't know where we are… Are you— [ 'Okay' seems like such a stupid question. ] —hurt? Is there anything I can do?

[ She squeaks in protest, tugging back against his grip—not enough to be struggling, but enough to let him know that she has other priorities right now. ]

I need to go…!

[ It was a gunshot wound to the chest, critical enough to make death a foregone conclusion for somebody like her, while also leaving her plenty of time to know exactly what was happening. It's healed now, but the bloodloss is still taking its toll. ]

To find the one you were with when this happened?

[noooot letting go just yet]

You're not going to find him that easily, and there's no sense in running around an unfamiliar place so recklessly. Take a few moments to regain your bearings, at least.

The Mansion— this is—

[there's a whine, followed by more coughs, sounding more and more strained as she tries not to retch; the venom has done a number on her. Despite all that, Miss Nakamori manages to struggle to her knees, fumbling with the chatelaine around her waist until her fingers close on a small blue bottle.

She twists it open and downs the contents in one go with practiced ease. It hits her like a punch to the gut, and her breath comes out in a wheeze as she doubles over, but she feels a little more coherent as it burns through her body (or at least a little less likely to die at any moment).

Coherent enough to notice the state of her companion, in any case. Panting for breath, Miss Nakamori eyes the blood-wet front of Aoko's shirt and fumbles for a second blue bottle]

I should be— asking you that— What— what happened?

But… He might be hurt! [ It's not that she doesn't care about herself. She's just entirely too preoccupied right now, her thoughts full of SOMEBODY WAS TRYING TO KILL KAITO, all the Kaito all the time.

Desperation hitches her breathing, and she tugs against his grip again. ]

[ … It's like Sabra all over again…

That's the first thought that strikes her, and it sticks. She hovers, half-crouching, unsure but hopeful that something can be done to help. Her concern spikes when the doppelganger doubles over—she makes a noise, reflexively reaching out to settle a steadying hand on her shoulder. ]

I'm alright. It doesn't hurt anymore.

[she gets a bottle thrust at her anyway]

Here. Drink it— regardless—

[at the very least, it should help with those shakes she can feel. At the very best... there's still the barest chance that this alternate of herself isn't quite dead, and she would be amiss if she didn't do everything in her power to make that bare chance a little better. The thought is chilling enough as it is]

You need it more than I do!

[ The injuries have healed, after all. Now it's just bloodloss and a bone-deep, disquieting exhaustion. ]

[continues to hold the bottle out, using the back of her free hand to wipe roughly at a trail of blood dribbling down over her mouth. Both hands are covered in fanged bite marks]

This place... gives us more. [slowly catching her breath, though it's still rough-edged and ragged] Please, take it.

[pauses, then adds with a hint of wryness]

Though you... might not want to drink it as... quickly as I did.

… Okay. Thank you.

[ Reluctantly, she takes the bottle. If this other Aoko is lying, and the Mansion doesn't really give medicinal hand-outs… She's gonna feel pretty terrible about it. On the other hand, she knows herself; knows better than to think that she'd back down.

And she really doesn't have time to waste.

Deep breath, and then down the hatch it goes. ]

[nearly as bitter as laudanum but with all the kick of a rough alcohol, the tincture burns its way down Aoko's throat — and that's at a slower pace. It's not a wonder her alternate was wheezing after downing an entire bottle.

Disconcerting as the initial effect is, the mixture is quick to take effect, easing her tremors and restoring some of the strength robbed by blood loss. Miss Nakamori is barely waiting to see if it works; she's already using the support of the wall to climb shakily to her feet, offering Aoko a hand up after her]

Better?

[ Grimaces, coughing. Still, she's glad for the boost it gives her; feeling a little like death warmed over is a vast improvement over feeling a whole lot like death warmed over.

Takes Miss Nakamori's hand and climbs to her feet, somewhat unsteadily. ] Much. [ She hesitates. ] We should find an infirmary for you, or somewhere you can get cleaned up.

[It's possibly a little while after the bleeding Aoko shows up that there is a Kaito stumbling down the halls, face pale and eyes distant and red even as he seems to search every nook and cranny and cupboard and room. He leans somewhat into the wall, as though bracing himself--keep himself on his feet.

Possibly it has to do with the uneven weight of the gun in one hand as he continues his search through the mansion.]

Kaito! [ The echo of the shout is faint, the owner of the voice unseen. But even from this distance, the tinge of panicked desperation is clear.

He has to be here. She has to find him. Gritting her teeth, blinking back tears, Aoko continues her stumbling run through the hallways. ]

[He freezes at the sound of her voice--very distinctly hers and not someone else's. Possibly a double's in this place, the mansion, but even that thought couldn't keep back the almost choking sensation of hope from tearing at his chest.]

... Aoko? [The voice is small and fractured, wavering in uncertainty even though he knows it's not going to carry so she could hear... and so, louder the second time, still just as shakened in sound.] Aoko?

[ That was… ]

Kaito! [ Her yell is half sobbed in relief. She pushes herself, following the sound of his voice—he's close, she'll be with him soon if she can just keep going. Her pounding footsteps are waver unsteadily, but she refuses to let herself fall.

One more corner… two…

And there he is.

Her eyes widen, expression flashing into a smile just as pained as it is hopeful… But this time, she does trip, crashing to her knees on the carpeted floor. ]

[the answer to his call also has him pushing forward, a great deal more steady than it had been even though he's now shaking, putting a hand to the wall more than his shoulder to stand straight--

just in time to watch her take the spill. but that's more than fine since he darts forward to try to catch hold of her, letting his own legs falter as strength leaves them because suddenly it's even harder to breathe than when--

and then, he's just clutching onto her with his free hand, trying to remind himself to remember to breathe]

[ Who needs breathing when you can just have crying? She lunges into his arms—well, arm—and wraps her own around him, clinging tight. ] Y-You're—You're here, you're re-really h-here…!

[a choked sound escapes him as he tries to find the words to respond to that, arm tightening around her]

I-idiot. You're the one--

[except he can't even bring himself to even finish that sentence, wavering as he closes his eyes as they start to water and burn. the lump of his throat preventing him from even considering trying to say it aloud again]