marothius | ( 2025 open post )

They're about half a block behind him, just around the corner. He can hear them back there. They're still following him. He needs to hide. He can't keep running. The adrenaline is wearing off and he's starting to feel every bit of what they did to him. It's getting hard to keep running.

Akihito tugs at the doors of a few places he passes, each lock sending a wave of panic through him before finding one that gives way to his desperate pulling. He lifts his hood up over his head to hide his face as best he can as he ducks inside of a small bookstore. The cashier greets him but otherwise leaves him be as he keeps his head down and moves directly toward the far back corner of the shop. Away from those big windows at the front. Somewhere he can't be easily spotted.

Sitting down on the floor, Akihito pulls out his phone and turns on the camera to assess the damage to his face. Cuts and bruises. Blood. One eye nearly swollen shut. He wipes some blood away on the inside of his sweater then pulls his hood down a little further, then tucks it back into his pocket. His entire body hurts to varying degrees. Getting up to try to go home later is going to be hell.

"When do you close?" he calls out to the cashier who he can no longer see. '10PM' is the reply that comes from somewhere beyond stacks upon stacks of books. So he has some time before he absolutely needs to leave. And to fill some of that time (and maybe distract himself from some of his aches), Akihito begins to pull some books from nearby shelves and piles, from anywhere he can reach that won't bring a tower of books crashing down on him. He's sustained enough injuries for one night.

Some of the books seem old and regularly overlooked in favour of whatever's new and popular. One in particular is covered in a thick layer of dust. It looks like it hasn't even been touched in a very long time. He winces as he pulls it open (it feels like his wrist is sprained. Definitely not broken, at least) and starts to flip through the pages, stopping once in a while whenever something catches his eye.

An hour passes before he realizes that he's no longer flipping through the pages of this long forgotten book, but rather is simply reading it. Ancient civilizations and their gods. Gods for everything from the physical to the more abstract. Gods of feelings and ideas. Gods of the flora and fauna. There's one specific name that's of particular interest to him. One name that seems to pull his attention like no other. Vengeance. A god of vengeance.

"I wish you were real..." he whispers as he touches the name on the page. And yet he finds himself silently praying to this deity of vengeance. Rage and revenge. He prays and begs for the deity to take revenge on his attackers in his stead. He'll do whatever it takes (a promise that's easy enough to make when he thinks nothing will come of any of this). He'll become a devoted follower. He'll live his life in Atreyun's name. If only he were real. If only he was listening.

"I wish you were real..." A whisper in eons of darkness, of obscurity. A mere whisper that echoes in the dark limbo in which Atreyun sleeps. What else is a forgotten god to do? He cannot interact with a world in which he is unknown. So he sleeps. He's woken on occasion to peer at the changes the world has undergone, to see the plague of humanity spreading unchecked, to see so many who need him bereft and alone.

"I wish you were real..." A thunderous whisper that tears Atreyun from his long torpor. A single whisper he can pinpoint with absolute precision. A single whisper, that's all it takes for a man clad all in black with silver hair like the moon itself to tower over where Akihito hides.

"I am very real," he utters in a low voice, perhaps a bit raspy from eons of disuse. And then, without preamble, he reaches out to press his hand to Akihito's forehead. To connect, to see the faces of the ones who brought the boy crawling to him in search of vengeance. He hadn't been paying attention before, so he needs to pluck the vision from his last follower's mind. Flashes play out in his own, the face, the names (if known), every vile act they've committed. And when it's done, Atreyun drops his hand to his side with a long satisfied inhale.

The silent, desperate prayer begins to fade. He can only repeat it so many times before it starts to feel like it's taunting him, reminding him that he's on his own. No one is coming to help him. No ancient gods are coming to help him any more than the people around him are. So few people want to get involved in someone else's problems. Especially when helping someone comes with the threat of violence. It would be easy enough to look at Akihito's face and see that future for themselves, to know that's not a future they want for themselves.

Akihito is just starting to close the dusty old text when there's the sound of a voice, and the form of a man in front of him where there was no man just seconds before. He jumps in his surprise, knocking over some of the books next to him and his uninjured eye grows wide. Every step of his reaction makes him wince or groan in pain. He's taking a few breaths in an attempt to get the pain under control when the strange man reaches out to touch his forehead. He flinches at the sudden movement and unwanted contact but otherwise stays still, merely staring at the silver haired man.

Atreyun will very clearly see their faces, faces that are forever burned into Akihito's memory. Faces that Akihito will never again forget, ones that he'll have to live with for the remainder of his days. Atreyun will see the way they cornered him in a dark alley, the way they viciously attacked him. The awful things they did to him. The things that will stay with Akihito forever.

"Who are you?" he asks, his voice barely more than a whisper. It's the least painful way to speak and calls the least amount of attention to himself from whoever else may have entered the store when he wasn't paying attention. "A...treyun?" A ridiculous question. A stupid, ridiculous, desperate question.

Ah, his eyes roll back at the sound of his own name on human lips after so incredibly long. An equally long sigh follows as he exhales, crouching down to be closer to (but not quite) at eye level with his precious believer. There he takes in the boy's injuries, a subtle sort of anger etching into his features. Even if Akihito wasn't his follower before, he is now and any slight, past, present or future, against him is a slight against Atreyun.

"That is my name," he assures. "I am the one who will make them pay for what they have done to you."

As the man crouches down, Akihito tugs his hood up a little further and ducks his head, then clutches the book tightly to his chest as though it can serve as some sort of barrier between him and the stranger. Atreyun. The deity who came to answer his prayers. Or is that just wishful thinking and this is really just a kind stranger willing to help someone they assume is in distress? The kind of stranger who is so hard to find these days. A stranger who he didn't hear enter the shop. A stranger with incredible timing. A stranger who knows exactly what he wants.

"A vengeful deity..." he mutters quietly to himself. The one who'll make them pay for what they did to Akihito. "They're probably still looking for me. I don't know what'll happen if they find me. Please help me."

Atreyun's brows furrow subtly at Akihito shrinking away. Perhaps something more human would understand, the boy's probably more than a little traumatized in this instant. Being touched by a stranger can't help. But Atreyun isn't a human being nor was he ever. There are things about them, feelings and fears of theirs that he cannot eve understand.

"Be not afraid, my child. It is they who should fear." With fluid grace, Atreyun rises to his full height and holds a hand out for Akihito. "Tell me your name that I may feast on your enemies in its honor."

More than a little traumatized by what happened to him, and then exacerbated by a man appearing before him (no, not just a man), by being touched when his most recent experience with such a thing lead to his current state of being. A trauma that will probably haunt him forever. A trauma that's responsible for a host of fears, both new and old, that he's not sure he'll ever be able to let go of. Fears that someone or something like Atreyun couldn't possibly understand. He doesn't need to understand, though. Understanding such things isn't necessary for what Akihito asked him here to do.

Akihito watches as Atreyun stands, hesitating for a moment before setting the book aside so he can take the deity's hand with his relatively uninjured one. It takes a bit of effort and some quiet groaning but he pulls himself to his feet, then glances up at Atreyun for no more than a few seconds before he feels the need to once more lower his gaze. "Akihito. My name is Suzuki Akihito."

"Suzuki Akihito," Atreyun repeats, savor the name on his tongue as if tasting a favored dessert. It's an important name. The name of his last believer. The name of the one who breathed life back into him. The name of the one who saved him the eternal torment of impotence. His savior.

"Can you walk?" Might Akihito need rest and recovery before Atreyun goes on a killing spree for him? He would watch over the human in his convalescence, if needed. None shall harm him.

Hearing Atreyun say his name is like hearing it for the first time. It's like experiencing it for the first time. Perhaps this is what it is to have the attention of an actual deity. He resists the urge to ask Atreyun to say it again because it seems like such a weird request to make. Especially of someone who could just be some otherworldly seeming but otherwise perfectly normal man. Just being in Atreyun's presence, he doesn't feel like a perfectly normal man which furthers the belief that he is what Akihito's believes him to be but there's always that chance. There's always a chance that he's being gullible and naive and this man is taking advantage of him.

He really hopes it's not that.

"Um." Akihito glances down as though trying to assess the potential damage by sight, alone. He did manage to run most of the way here so he likes to think he can walk, but he was also operating purely on adrenaline and fear for his own life. Things are different now. Things are more calm. There's nothing to keep him from feeling every ounce of his pain. Even still, he nods as he takes a few deep breaths. "I think so, yeah. I think I can walk."

A frown pinches Atreyun's lips, furrows his brow every so slightly at the obvious effort it takes Akihito rise to his feet. He knows enough to know that the boy's injuries are likely deeper than what can be seen by the eye. However...

"It is not in my power to heal your wounds." A god he may be, but he's a very specific kind of god. His sister and counterpart could do that, but she is as forgotten as he... Well, as he was until moments ago. His fingers tighten slightly around Akihito's hand.

"I will do my utmost to see you through your recovery."

Akihito raises his free hand and shakes his head before moving his hand to gingerly place it on Atreyun's arm to stabilize himself. The touch is very tentative at first even though Atreyun is holding his other hand. One would think that means touching his arm is okay but this is (allegedly) an actual deity. That's not really the sort that Akihito feels he should take chances with. Yet Akikito gently curls his fingers around Atreyun's forearm and leans some of his slight weight against him. He breathes out a sigh of relief, having a bit of the pressure taken off of some of his injuries. Then he shakes his head again and looks up at Atreyun. "It's okay. I can handle the healing part on my own." Truthfully, he should go to the hospital, but if he can, he'd prefer to just wait it out. Heal naturally.

"Thank you, um... Is it okay if I call you Atreyun? Or is there something else you'd rather I call you?" Like a title or just something more formal.

Maybe it's been so long he's forgotten how fragile humans are. Or how good they are at hurting each other. Humans did this to his believer. Well, it will be a final mistake for them, of that Atreyun is certain (since he will be their end).

Being a god doesn't make him an untouchable thing, under these circumstances. Some deities prefer to remain incorporeal. Others like a holy entity in the world. Atreyun falls somewhere in between. He has walked among his people for lifetimes, led their armies in war. Being used as a crutch is no insult to him, not when he initiated the touch to begin with.

"You may call me by my name, Suzuki Akihito." A name meant for human lips, be it in reverence or terror.

Humans are incredibly talented when it comes to hurting each other. There are other species who attack their own, but it's usually for the good of the group whereas humans do it just because. And humans have such a skill for it. Both things that Akihito can attest to. There was no real reason for Akihito to be attacked tonight as far as he can tell, except that he looked like an easy target. Small and unassuming, being in a place where no one would see what was happening. This wasn't to protect the pack, this was just people acting on dark urges. This was just people who wanted to hurt someone. Who are good at hurting others and wanting to prove it.

When Atreyun makes no move to shoo the little human away, Akihito leans against him just a little more, trying to not overstep his bounds but attempting to take a little more pressure off of his injured body.

"Atreyun," he repeats to himself, testing how the name sounds and feels, committing it to memory. If this all turns out to be the real deal, Atreyun's is a name he never wants to forget (even if Atreyun ends up being nothing more than a regular man looking to help him out, he still wants to remember who it was who helped).

"Akihito is fine. Please just call me Akihito. If you'd like."

Such a polite little one. A human worthy of speaking face to face with the god. There have been times in the past when humans, greedy in their wants and needs have forgotten their place in his presence. Atreyun is all too happy to remind them why his name makes nations tremble in fear.

Well. Maybe less so now. Once upon a time.

"Akihito, then," he agrees. "Tell me where we are going, Akihito. I will see you safely to your destination." And remain because he has nowhere else to be.

Nations may no longer tremble in fear at the mere utterance of his name, but a few people will. Maybe even an entire neighbourhood. Akihito can't promise Atreyun cities or countries, but he's sure the group of people surrounding his attackers or their neighbourhood is within reach. Sorry Atreyun, but attaching yourself to a nobody like Akihito can't really get you any more than that.

"I just want to go home." There, he can start tending to his injuries, whether with his first aid supplies or simply rest. There, he can properly access the damage that was done to him tonight. There, he can start to process what happened here tonight and what almost happened. At home is where he can finally feel relatively safe. "It's a few blocks from here."

There is a very long future in which he can make nations tremble again. Atreyun is basically starting over and, well, that means starting small. One believer is better than no believers. Atreyun isn't greedy.

"Show me the way." If Akihito can't make it steadily the whole way, Atreyun will assist further. Whether it be in the form of an arm around the boy to support him or flat out carrying him. No matter what, Akihito will reach his destination.

One believer is better than no believers. One believer is the difference between proper existence and obscurity. One believer is the start of gathering more, he's the first brick in a long road. One believer, especially when the only other option is none, is everything, isn't it?

Akihito nods, clutching Atreyun's hand and arm all the tighter (it hurts him, but so does everything else. But the fact that he can grip Atreyun's arm at all means his wrist probably isn't broken, right?) as he starts to walk toward the front of the bookshop. It's not without some struggles, though. Soft sounds of effort accompany the shuffling limp. He stops once they're just outside of the bookshop, looking up the street and down. The way he came from and the way he was running. The way he came from is actually the quickest, most direct way for him to get home. He turns his back on that direction, gesturing up the street. "Let's go this way." Even with Atreyun by his side, he doesn't feel good about the other direction right now. He doesn't like the idea of walking in the direction where he last saw his attackers.

One believe is everything. The torpor in which Atreyun's existed for millennia was the worst form of torture. Akihito saved him from languishing in that impotent existence. For that alone, the boy deserves to be rewarded. And so he shall, as the first and foremost of all his future followers. All shall know and be grateful for Akihito's grain of faith.

While he is quiet as they leave the bookshop, the actual noise of the outside world hits him like a strong gust of wind. Atreyun has been outside the world, only vaguely conscious of its many, many great changes. Touching Akihito initially allowed him to absorb more information: this modern language, a very basic understanding of modern technology (yes, he knows what a TV is and what a phone if for. Can he use them without help? Absolutely not!). What he wasn't prepared for were the onslaught of sounds as traffic speeds by, the sheer number of people talking on the street... and the smells? Like metal and oil and... so many things he can't even begin to identify. It prompts him to take a staggering half-step back and screw up his face in visible disgust.

But only for a few seconds. Akihito's safety is this priority here.

"You can walk?" He'll carry you, but he's not about to offer it.

Perhaps if he'd been standing under his own power, walking without the help of Atreyun, he wouldn't have noticed the half step back that Atreyun takes once they get outside. It's easy enough to notice, isn't it, when the man you're clinging to is no longer keeping stride with your slow, shuffling steps. For the moment, Atreyun's question goes unanswered. Akihito looks up at him, singular good eye wide with surprise and filled with concern.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" Perhaps he should focus more on himself and his own situation, but he can't help it. He can't help but worry about the man who's been decent to him. It hasn't been long, no, but given that Akihito's most recent previous experience with people left him battered and broken, it's been impactful.

The question earns a quick series of blinks. Why would he not be 'okay'? Oh, Akihito definitely couldn't help but notice his movement. That must have prompted the boy's question.

"I was not prepared for... It is like war out here." The sounds, the smells. "Now, can you calk the distance we must go?"

Now it's Akihito's turn to blink up at Atreyun. He glances up and down the street before his attention returns to the deity. It's pretty late. A lot of shops are closed and traffic has gotten rather light. There are still people around, but not nearly as many as there would be earlier in the day. "It's actually really quiet out tonight." Which is probably what helped to embolden his attackers. Though considering where it happened, maybe a loud and busy afternoon would've worked just as well. "It's a lot... more during the day."

Akihito grows quiet for a moment as he pictures their route in his head. The longer route. The shorter one is back the way he came, where he was cornered. The way he's already decided he doesn't want to go. "I don't think I can walk the whole way."

It may be relatively quite for a modern human who is accustomed to a lifetime of such sounds — such a person will have little trouble acclimating to the assault on the senses. If one grew up with this noise, they would hardly register it. In the same way as one who has only lived in green pastures doesn't notice the lush greenery that shocks the one who spent their entire life in the desert.

Atreyun will adapt. All gods must if they hope to remain relevant. It may take time — and assistance from his one believer — but he will adapt to this strange, modern world. He must.

"Put your arm behind my neck." That and a handful of seconds are all Akihito's given to comply. After that handful of seconds, Atreyun's arm loops around Akihito, beneath his arms, behind the shoulders. There's one additional beat in which he stoops to slip the other arm behind the young man's knees to sweep him off the ground bridal style.

"Guide me."

Akihito's always lived in the city. The harsh smells are a comfort to him and the sounds of traffic (both vehicular and foot) are like his white noise. He's long since grown accustomed to the bright streetlight that shines in his bedroom window just behind his blinds. So accustomed that he can't sleep when it's too dark. He grows anxious when it's too quiet. He'd never survive in the countryside.

Based on Atreyun's reaction to walking out of the bookstore, this isn't the kind of place he's used to. So Akihito's words serve as a warning. This is considered quiet around here. It'll get worse before it gets better.

Akihito delicately, gingerly reaches across the back of Atreyun's neck, hooking his other hand over the deity's shoulder as he's swept up off of his feet. His first thought is that this feels a little awkward, but it's quickly brushed aside in favour of how much of a relief it is to no longer be on his feet. Relief from pressure, temporary easing of some of his pain. Not awkward. Necessary.

"Okay. Um, go up that way-" His hand temporarily leaves Atreyun's shoulder to point up the street. "-past three traffic lights and then turn right." He pauses and then shifts a little to look up at the deity. "The traffic lights are the green ones up the street. They turn red and yellow too." He pauses briefly before adding, "I'm sorry if you knew that already."

“I did not,” he affirms as he turns to head in the indicated direction. It’s easy to glean their purpose as a few vehicles drive by. They are to control their movements in a given direction. For their safety and those walking. What an interesting world Atreyun has found himself in! He has much to learn.

Three traffic lights and a right. And carrying Akihito as if he weighs as much as a sack of feathers. Even recently awoken and in this very human form he retains inhuman strength.

“Do your people no longer use the sun and stars and cardinal directions to orient yourselves?” Sheer curiosity. He can navigate with lefts and rights. The old god is simply curious if that’s what’s common now.

Akihito lays his head against Atreyun's shoulder and closes his eyes. The consistent rhythm of Atreyun's steps is nice. It's a comfortable rhythm and one he could easily fall asleep to if he didn't need to guide Atreyun to his home. It's been a long, stressful evening, and Akihito finally feels like he can relax a little. He finally feels like he's no longer in immediate danger. He feels... safe. Alas, he can't sleep yet. There's still a lot that has to be done before that can happen.

"No one really uses the sun and stars anymore, no. A lot of people still use cardinal directions but I've never been really good with them. I find them kind of confusing," he admits with a soft chuckle, opening his eyes again (well, one eye) and tipping his head back a bit to look up at the man carrying him. "I like lefts and rights a lot more. They're easier for me. Speaking of which, after you turn right, it's two more traffic lights and then another right."

Atreyun @forgottenlangauge

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject