solo_insanity | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

[It is a nice day out with a warm breeze, the crystal, blue water stretching out in every direction, and vultures circling overhead. You find yourself drifting across the waters in a small life boat. It still has its two oars so rowing is an option, but with the expanse of blue in every direction where to go may not be an easily answered question.

Ah, and yes, one Tyki Mikk is with you draped over the edge. Hopefully, he isn't sea sick.

Yo ho, mateys!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Now that's the thing. Whether he allows it or not, his fingers could technically dip into his throat. At first, he may not allow it right away.]

What are you doing anyways?

[It could, but manners taught me to ask first and then take by force when the answer was no.]

Just seeing exactly where your limits are.

We have limits?

[He's not really denying him access. The first sign of any yank and he wouldn't be able to touch anymore, but for now, there's nothing resisting. It's such a far question seeing as he knows he has some limits. More personal ones.]

Don't tempt me.

[No yanking. Just moving fingers from the base of his skull down his spine.]

Where would the fun in that be?

[This would feel strange if he wasn't use to other things moving around inside of him. At least the Tease are kept in there in a different way. Ignore the way his back arches just a little.]

[He stops his hand and lays it out flat near the end of the other's rib cage.]

I can think of more than one way it could be fun.

You said there were more of you, right? Or at least another body to take your place.

[And then the other lost his touching privileges. Because while he trusts the other, he knows how he himself can get at these times.]

I said maybe there were more of me. Our other sets are stored away in a box only the Val bitch knows about. There may be another one of me in there. There may not. She can't make more. She uses only what she's got.

Edited (butchering words at 7am) 2012-10-13 11:21 (UTC)

[You are a wise, wise man. He brings back his hand bringing the knuckles to his own lips.]

What number are you exactly?

[He rubs against his chest with a scratch against his scars. Yeah, he knows him better than himself. If possible. Sorta. That's just hard to phrase. But to answer that he'll shift his fingers down against his pants and push them down a bit towards his V-line where his barcode is]

2.4...

[Attempting to take the other's wrists and rise pulling them both up.]

[It takes a second for Tyki to let him grab him again.] Up we go.

[Picking a random direction of gray mist and walking toward it.]

[He'll follow after him, fishing out another long lollipop stick, though there is no sweet on it. He'll just go about chewing it] Mm.

[After walking in gray for a bit they'll find a light sort of appear out of the fog before them. And maybe it isn't so much a light as a barrel with a fire burning out of it. Gray human figures stand around it staring at it. Some look perfectly fine while others looked mangled with gunshot wounds, missing limbs and even one poor fellow with a scar from shoulder to hip.

Tyki waves as he approaches, but no of them respond to him.]

[2.4 basically meant that he was the second Tyki to ever be in facility and was the 4th version of himself. His original had died of heart bombs and his second of his canon update. The third had been when his Tease had eaten their way out of him when he had no powers. So he was technically the fourth verision of his second self.

Still he follows him, waving in front of a few people's faces.] Anyone home in there?

[Tyki doesn't want to know this which is why he's not asking. A little reminder of his current predicament was enough to pull him out of his desire to pull out his organs and rearrange them in a nice row in color order. But this is come from a man whose dictionary can't distinguish love and destruction.]

[They look at the pair with empty eyes when they approach.]

Another group.

[Then they go back to looking at the fire.]

[He never wanted to know until he was forced to know.

He's mostly trusting simply because it is another Noah. It's a simple formality and yet it is the most inner reasoning for such calmness from Tyki. The Noah pats one of them on the shoulder at his response and tilts his head, not much debate or confusion registering as he just shoves one of them into the barrel with the fire.]

Another.

[It is okay, bro. I collect other selves like some sort of demented stamp collection.

And why would you even?

Actually might be a little jealous that he didn't think of it first.

The being goes into the fire and it doesn't even flicker as he falls in disappearing. In all honesty he shouldn't be able to fit in there, but, hey he does.

The others look at him with blank eyes and don't seem shocked or concerned at all.]

You can't kill anyone here. Everyone is already dead.

Edited 2012-10-15 03:36 (UTC)

[There isn't much train of thought that continues that way as he watches one disappear right into it. He's quite determined to figure out just how many he can stuff into the barrel at once. Really if most islands were like this, that would explain a lot of things in the history books when it comes to large colony disappearances.

He'll just shove another one in there.] Don't take my fun out of it.

[These dead people are very, very passive. And he'll shove in one and then another leaving two remaining standing around the barrel. Then one.

Tyki is just watching.]

[It almost takes the fun out of it how passive they all are. But Tyki shrugs and shoves in the last one. He was hoping for some kind of scream.]

[No. No screaming alas. Tyki is laughing though.]

[The smoke changes from its gray drop to a speckles of color in it. The only color in the area actually. And it is faint. Blue. Faint gold. Tads of red.]

[And no screaming, but there is now a low and rumbling moaning coming from the barrel.]

[Pleased with himself and the fact the other is laughing, he rubs at his chin a little.]

Funny how usually if I stick something into things, there is usually screaming or moaning even in this case.

At least you always seem to satisfy.

[Smoke becomes a liquid as it starts to boil over. The color seems to have settled on a dull orange like the flame as it moves about as fast as lava from the barrel to the floor.]

Given the opportunity to change, I don't think I ever would.

[Not quite bothered by it, he'll stick his hand in it, allowing any warmth generated by it to touch his hands, but not the actual substance.]