[OPEN]

[daddyscythe]

Characters: OPEN
Location: Outskirts of Nevada
Rating: PG
Time: All day, Feb 27
Description: Shibusen offers a field trip to acclimate the guests to the Madness wavelength.


It's a perfectly pleasant day for the most part, if one is to look at the sky and maybe the horizon. For the attendees of the fieldtrip, however, things are naturally a lot more grim, if also lot more colorful. There are understandably no civilians in the area -- or any other signs of life apart from the group.

As promised, the location is extensively arranged to cordon off various areas of the place where Madness spikes have been identified. They are all properly labeled, both with text and visuals, and discreet agents kept an eye on all corners of the large field. The mirror by which the guest will come in is set in a corner, with some food provided next to it.

People are free to come and go, though the other end leads to the clinic instead of the Death Room. The rules are simple: venture into a level you think you can handle, and if you can't, someone will help.

In the afternoon, a light rain will come to add some variety to the endless desert. Make sure to take shelter in the open tents provided to protect you from the elements!

[ooc: Just put in open tags in the comments, [Character Name | Open/Close | Area/sort of madness targeted/whatever marker you want].

Plotting and information post was here.]

Comments

[shiromadoushi]

Bakura couldn't help but laugh at that, smile relaxing. "Aaa, not like that, not like that!" he waved his hand back and forth. "That was before you got here, wasn't it? Aaaa, I'd forgotten! There was..." a small hesitation as he firmly pushed back at the echo of the Voice in his head. "Someone had put Black Blood in the water before launching an invasion. It was pretty bad..."

[attentionwenches]

Keeping Bakura's mind focused on other things seemed to be a good idea. Loki was confident that they could move into parts of the desert with higher levels of the wavelength soon. He took his hand off Bakura's shoulder and nodded in the direction he intended to go. Come on, friend. We can do this.

"What is 'Black Blood'?" Loki asked as he took his first steps deeper into the Madness. "Is it a poison?"

[shiromadoushi]

There was a touch of hesitation before Bakura followed. While not at all thinking he was in any shape to deal with more Madness than was already there he didn't want to be left behind...

"Sort of... it's sort of like the Madness in physical form. So even when we were in the city, any one who drank the water reacted like the barrier wasn't there."

[attentionwenches]

"And you drank it," Loki said with a nod. "What a dirty tactic!"

He could feel the presence of Madness growing stronger. What was that ringing in his ears? It sounded like a crowd...

[shiromadoushi]

Bakura nodded, rubbing the scar on his left hand, doing his best to focus on his friend and not the Voice's echo. "They attacked a day or two after everyone had gotten infected with it... it was an awful mess."

[attentionwenches]

"It must have been terrible," he said, brows drawn.

A trick worthy of you, said a familiar, golden voice in his head. Loki flinched visibly.

[shiromadoushi]

Bakura nodded, shoulders slumping. "It really was... it was such a mess, people were kidnapped and we had to go after them..." he trailed off slightly, again rubbing his scar. "It was really lucky that most everyone was all right..."

He noted the flinch, but made no comment. Just because he was getting used to ignoring the Voice in his head didn't mean that Loki was yet.

[attentionwenches]

"I'm sorry, it seems my own voice has finally made its presence known," Loki said, rubbing at his temple with one hand.

Must it be Thor's? Loki thought desperately. He'd spent the last two weeks missing his brother more than he cared to admit, and now this was the first contact Loki was to have with him? It didn't seem fair.

Why so troubled, brother? Wouldn't you rather poison an enemy than fight them face to face?

Loki's mouth drew into a tight line.

[shiromadoushi]

"...Should we go back to where it's lighter...?" Bakura offered, expression concerned.

[attentionwenches]

"Perhaps we should -- stop here for a bit."

He could handle this. He knew it was the Madness. He could keep it at bay, couldn't he?

Looking for a change of subject, Loki glanced down at the scar Bakura had been worrying for the past few minutes.

"Was it that attack that scarred your hand?" It was an unusual mark -- it looked like a puncture wound. Unpleasant for all involved, he'd wager.

As though you knew anything about unpleasant scars, came Thor's voice again. You flee them like a frightened rabbit! No one could follow a king like that.

Loki ignored the voices and focused on breathing. One breath after the other, cooling the rising, burning heat within him.

It's just as well Father favors me -- he could never have intended for you to reign. I don't know why Father keeps you around at all. You're superfluous!

Breathe in, breathe out, listen for Bakura's answer. Scars. Yes. Death City, attacked. How was he hurt?

[shiromadoushi]

"Aaa..." Bakura faltered, covering his hand and near cradling it to his chest. "N--no... this... this is something from home..."

Something that was yet another reminder. Another mark. His hand twitched as the memory of the madding cackle mixing with blinding pain as his blood ran down the tower of the castle in Monster World...

Not a defeat. A set back. Just a set back. He could deal with the pain when it wasn't his defeat... when it didn't cause his friends pain...

[attentionwenches]

Loki reached a hand out in concern, a reflex gesture, aware that he'd brought attention to something Bakura did not wish to talk about, and wishing to make an apology --

Look at this stammering softhead. Look at him cringing over there. He's too cowardly to step into Madness alone, without even the pride to deny it, yet even he has battle scars from his home. He trains every day, he goes on Missions, and you've never set foot outside the city walls until today. Loki, king of Asgard? That's the best jest I've heard in months!

"I would make a better king than you," he found himself muttering under his breath before he could quite stop himself. Loki had drawn his hand back and looked away, eyes losing their focus.

[shiromadoushi]

Bakura reached out to take hold of his friend's hand, holding it tightly. "Whatever it's saying, ignore it. Focus on me," he whispered, voice intense as he took his own advice, focusing on his friend. As long as he had someone to help, he was far more able to block out the Madness and Voice.

[attentionwenches]

His fingers wrapped around Bakura's, brought back to the present for a moment. He focused on his breaths, he focused on Bakura, he focused on where he was: Death City, Midgard, well away from anywhere Thor or anyone else could cast judgment upon him --

Accepting help, from him? I can't believe it! Of all the mortals you could turn to, it had to be the one so fragile he can hardly stand on his own two feet? The one with a broken Weapon form? Is that really the best you can do? If you're going to hide behind someone, at least pick one with enough strength to compensate for your meager talents.

Burning shame welled up inside of him. Whether it was a voice in his head or not, it was still true that, for a moment, he had been grateful to rely on Bakura. He yanked his hand away and gave Bakura a hard shove in the shoulder, recoiling, shoulders curling in defensively.

"I don't need your help! Stay away -- I will master my mind myself!"

[shiromadoushi]

Bakura gave a startled exclamation at the push, stumbling and falling back onto his rear, looking utterly terrified for a moment.

The rejection was all the echo of the Voice needed to resume it's mocking, Bakura curling up in himself defensively and clutching at his head to try and block it out. Without someone else to focus on, he had so few barriers to keep it out, and being rejected by a friend shattered what little confidence that reaching out to help had bolstered and made the Voice even stronger.

It's just the Madness, he didn't mean it, just the Madness, be strong, Bakura Ryou! If you can't even fight this, you can't help anyone!

[attentionwenches]

The other boy's collapse filled Loki with a sick sense of power, a feeling that was bolstered by the Madness that was seeping through his mind. It was so easy to damage Bakura, so easy to push him away so hard he did not get up... Bakura was no threat, even in Loki's addled mind.

And when Thor spoke to him again of battles and weakness and trickery, Loki was ready. He strode forward and dropped smoothly into a cross-legged sit next to the curled-up form of Bakura.

"Hearken to me, Bakura," he said, and his mouth split his face in a twisted grin. "I shall tell you a tale today."

[shiromadoushi]

Bakura peeked up, the fingers clutching at the side of his head relaxing a touch. The grin... the grin looked far too much like..

No. No, it's just the Madness. Focus!

Hesitantly he shifted to be sitting more properly than he had fallen, trying to ignore the Voice's mocking that Loki was just setting him up to hurt him more. It'd be so easy to let the Voice take care of it... so easy to--

No! His hands tensed before he forced them to lie flat on his knees. If he couldn't trust in his friends...

[attentionwenches]

"It is a tale of royalty. A tale of brothers and of succession. A tale of lies." Loki savored the taste of the word as it rolled off his tongue. Oh, he would enjoy this. How he would enjoy spilling each and every secret he had kept for Thor's sake. The time for pretense was over. He had no intention of hurting Bakura, not when Bakura was so obviously not a threat to Loki's power as well as the audience to his revelation.

"There were two brothers, one elder, one younger. I'll not insult your intelligence by pretending they are anyone but Thor and myself." Loki, for once in his life, lacked the patience for subtlety. "The younger was the clever one. What he lacked in strength he exceeded in cunning, and skill at the magical arts. But the elder, ah! The elder was brave and foolish, always vainly seeking to prove his strength as a warrior. He approached their royal father time and again, asking to be let out of the safety of Asgard's walls, to fight monsters and giants and creatures out of the darkest places of the worlds.

"Always he was refused. Why? he demanded. Why must I remain here where I am always safe and guarded, rather than go and win glory with the others?

"Because your training is not yet complete, his father said. Because it is too dangerous out there for you. You are not strong enough. Stay here, where you are safe.

"So the prince, chafing at shackles only he could see, challenged the most celebrated warriors in Asgard to a public match. If he could not win glory outside the walls, he could win it in the arena. He challenged the fiercest warriors in all the nine realms -- and do you know what? He defeated them!"

Loki looked fit to burst with excitement. He looked like someone who had a secret they were dying, dying, dying to tell. He looked downright devious.

[shiromadoushi]

Bakura blinked, rubbing at his scar as he listened. There was something more he was missing... with how Loki looked.... Something this simple of a story...

"...What happened then...?" he asked in a soft voice.

[attentionwenches]

"Father still wouldn't let him go with the Einherjar. So Thor graciously offered them a rematch, to regain their honor. They accepted, and are defeated by him to the cheering of Asgardian crowds at least once a week. His success has made him the toast of Asgard. But there is one thing he does not know." It was hard for Loki to hold in his laughter, but he managed to contain himself. If his smile were any sharper, he would have cut himself.

"Would you like to hear the secret? I'll tell you if you like. I've been dying to tell someone, anyone, for ages."

[shiromadoushi]

The paler boy hesitated a moment. "If it's a secret..." He paused a moment, tensing as the echo of the Voice grew stronger and he had to push it back. "If it's a secret, you shouldn't tell..."

[attentionwenches]

"To Hel with that!" Loki lunged forward so that he was on his hands and knees, growling his words not a foot from Bakura's face (unless the other backed away). "I've played at hero worship for long enough! I'll keep quiet for his sake no longer! He has won the affection of our people with a lie! Oh yes," Loki went on, a mad light in his eyes, "it was all a lie. The matches were fixed -- rigged, by our father, so that my fool of a brother would not bring shame on the House of Odin with his vainglorious antics!

"It's obvious to anyone who takes the time to watch closely. Thor is clearly outmatched, yet they all celebrate his victory as though he were some sort of hero!" Loki spat the last word.

[shiromadoushi]

Bakura startled again, leaning back at the sudden closeness, silent as Loki spoke and for a long moment after. Very quietly he reached out to put a hand on his friend's shoulder, quietly reaching out to try and resonate with him to help pull him out of the grip of the Madness.

"If it's something like that... then won't your brother be hurt in the long run...? When he first tries to fight someone who isn't being told to let him win..."

[attentionwenches]

"He'll never have to," Loki explained with painstaking, spiteful care. "He's the crown prince! The heir to the throne of Asgard! Everything is rigged in his favor, our father sees to it! He is foolish, irresponsible, temperamental, spoiled, and self-centered, and believes that the greatest trial he shall have to face as king is ensuring there is enough ale at his feasts!" His voice, which had been rising steadily, took a plaintive note. "And the worst part of it all is that he is right, because though he might pretend to rely on me for nothing, I shall be there at his beck and call when he says just take care of it Loki while he drinks the ale and beds the women and receives the thanks of the flourishing kingdom whose upkeep I am seeing to..."

Loki trailed off miserably, his anger cooling into a bitter sadness as the resonance began to do its work. He retreated just a little, sinking back into a kneel, shoulders slumping. His eyes dropped from Bakura's, down to the hands that lay palm-up on his own lap. When Loki spoke again, his voice was slower and quieter.

"Why couldn't I have been born first? They only treat him so because he is the elder of us. Don't they understand? Can't they see I would be the better king? I thought that I could guide his rule from behind the throne, but why must I live eternally in Thor's shadow for no better reason than my age?" He pulled another breath. "Why must they scorn me for practicing magic one moment and cheer on his false glory the next? Why does everyone we meet like him so much more? It isn't fair," he ended rather pathetically, dropping his face into his hands. The Madness was receding, leaving Loki drained and full of helpless feelings.

Bakura's advice is so depressing sometimes. T~T

[shiromadoushi]

Bakura shifted forward, keeping the reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder, keeping the focus on him and that resonance to keep the Madness as much at bay as he could. "I don't know..." he said softly. "There are a lot of things that we can't control, no matter how much we wish we could, and it's hard, getting people to like you. Back home..." He hesitated, fingers tensing a moment as the Voice grew louder in it's mocking, reminding him of how pathetic he was, how hard he tried to be friends, how all his friends would have left him anyway, even if the Voice had done nothing...

"Back home, it was a lot harder for me to make friends. Between the fanclubs always getting in the way and how I looked..." he trailed off a moment. "Some people are lucky that no matter what they do or say, people like them. For us... I think all we can do is try to be like people want, to try and be what they'll like so we won't be alone."