caughtinanetwork | third King: video; (Backdate: early Sunday morning)

[The place, a snowy temple on an island, surrounded by trees. In the sky are four very, very large, intricate swords. One crackling with red energy, bits of it crumbling off of it and hovering near by. The other three are intact, glowing blue, silver and "colorless" (black) respectively. Behind the temple, higher, more modern buildings stretch up to the sky - signs of a fairly expansive school campus that was likely added on some time after the temple was built.]

[Below the swords, two men are doing battle. One in casual clothes - jeans, white shirt, jacket, and the fiery power coming off of him seems to match that of the red sword. He recently arrived in the bubble - Mikoto Suoh.

The blue belongs to a much more refined looking man, in a uniform wielding a saber. Their power is incredible, clashing and seemingly meeting blow for blow.

But all at once there's a brilliant flash of white light that suddenly separates them, and a young man in a school uniform appears, stopping the saber of the uniformed one with, of all things, a parasol. To some, he might be familiar - the one who calls himself Yashiro Isana.

He barely moves, but all it takes is a flick of that parasol to send the other man back. Shiro's other hand is up, ready to block any other potential oncoming hits.

He looks up at the red head, and speaks in a strained voice. There's obviously something wrong with him - even though he's glowing with the same silver light as the sword, he's sweating and pallid.]

Isn't this the guy you're looking for?

[All at once his voice changes, angry now, and his expression twists in to one of near madness.]

HEY! What're you doing?! Stop!

[Again he goes back to sounding more like Shiro, but he's becoming frantic, hand nearly clawing at his head as if something inside him is trying to break free.]

Stop it! Stop that!

[He slumps, practically gasping for air, finally straightening and looking back at the redhead. He looks deseperate, and there's something... old and wary about his voice now.]

Hurry... only a King can kill another King...

[Suoh stares for a moment, but soon enough a faint smile appears.]

Yeah. I appreciate that. Thanks for bringing him here.

[He pulls his arm back, readying for what is obviously going to be a tremendously powerful punch.

The man in blue cries out from the other side and starts to run forward.]

Stop it, Suoh! Don't do it!

[Fire practically errupts from Suoh as he lets out a sound like a howl, thrusting his hand foward. Shiro doesn't move, and Suoh's fist doesn't just connect, it goes through him. The power explodes out his back, and as it happens, both Suoh and Shiro smile. While Suoh's seems almost triumphant, Shiro's is peaceful.

The fire appears to take over everything, and his serene face is the last thing seen before the view goes white, and the dream ends.]
**

[Shiro wakes up with a pained sounding gasp, and he rolls out of his futon on to his hands and knees, wheezing as though he'd actually been struck. Sweat rolls down his face, and he clutches at his damp teeshirt with a trembling hand.

The hand moves up to his mouth, and some how he manages to get to his feet, running away from his bedroom. The SFC remains on, unnoticed by him...]

((ooc: Dream is non-interactive, so network replies (or action for Isana Manor) only please.
Also spoilers for the end of the first season of K.
Key - Shiro, Colorless King, Suoh, Reisi))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ And this is why he owes you, Shiro. Suoh sleeps at weird times. If he isn't napping, he's usually awake and this is one of the first things he sees. Not exactly the most pleasant of memories... not exactly the last thing he wanted to remember.

So there's a pause though before his voice comes in. ]

Oi. Your SFC's on.

[Sorry, Suoh. He can hear it, but there's no way he can answer right now.

You might not want to ask what that sound you CAN hear is.]

[ Silence on his end. He'll wait for Shiro to get back though. ]

...I'll open the bar for you.

[ It's an offer, just in case Shiro wants to talk, wants to forget, needs somewhere else to sleep, wants to get hammered... ]

[Shiro looks... paler than usual, which is saying something given his usual coloring. But he does make it back at least, voice hoarse.]

Thank you...

[ Making an already pale kid look even paler is a thing of wonder but hey, he's already scooping up his SFC and taking it down to the bar. There's a shrug at the thanks though.

At any rate, he'll be up and the door to the bar will be unlocked should Shiro venture forth and decide to take him up on his offer. ]

[It's a good fifteen minutes before Shiro shows up, having needed to change in to something that didn't feel so damp and uncomfortable.

When he enters, there's still a bit of a stumble to his step, and his eyes are heavy with dark circles, hair even more messy than it usually is.]

[ Suoh was never a good cook so he's not even gonna try. When Shiro comes in, he'll have just come down from the second floor due to his bustling about for a clean shirt. He doesn't say a word to his guest, heading instead to the back room and trying to find something in that chiller that isn't alcoholic.

He'll come around with a couple of cans. One is a beer for himself, the other a chilled can of fruit milk. ]

Yata still thinks you're the guy who offed Totsuka.

[ Because what is small talk? ]

[Shiro takes the can with a mumbled thanks, putting the cool metal to his forehead. The comment gets a quirked eyebrow under the can, but the Silver King does not look like he's going to make one of his usual humored quips.]

I talked to him about that... if he can't understand it then there's nothing more I can do...

[ Another pause as he slumps himself nearby. ]

He's a little stubborn but he's a good kid.

A good kid with a very painful right hook.

[There's the humor. But the smirk only lasts for a moment.]

... I never intended for things to end this way. I never intended for any of this.

[ That's Yata for you. He was always quite the fireball - a perfect fit for HOMRA with his temper and his ability. He can't help but keep the smallest smile for that but it's gone when they get back on topic. ]

No one did.

[ Not the city, not them dying. But they did what they did and it had to happen. He mulls this over as he takes another drink from his beer. ]

You think this is hell?

Hell?

[Bitterly, Shiro laughs and shakes his head, finally moving the can away from his head now that he doesn't feel like he's going to melt in to a feverish puddle.]

No. For one thing, that hasn't happened to me yet. Though judging from your reaction, it's going to.

Though... I fear Hell wouldn't be punishment enough for how much pain I've caused...

[ Raising his brow at that as he settles back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. ]

What's that supposed to mean?

[A sigh escapes. Oh Suoh, you're in for a crazy story.]

You didn't really think the First and Silver King, the Immortal King was just some oblivious teenage boy, did you?

[ There's another small amused smile back as he reaches for his drink. ]

Could've fooled us.

That was sort of the point.

[Shiro sighs, though he's quietly sort of amused, too.]

I may have a different body, but I'm the same Adolf K. Weismann I was during the war, a time that was long, long before you were born.

In fact I think the only one of you Kings that's anywhere near the same age as me is my dear friend Kokujyōji Daikaku.

One King before me. One King before Munakata.

[ He's reaching for his cigarette and slipping one between his lips. There's a split second though when he tries to light it himself before he pauses and reaches for his lighter instead.

So that thing with the guy who killed Totsuka...

Mhm.

[He pauses here to sip at his drink once it's opened.]

The Colorless King is a parasite. I am no more responsible for Totsuka-san's death than anyone else is. I'm afraid the only resolution in the end will be to bring him to you in myself and force you to destroy us both.

But... it's a resolution all the same.

third King: video; (Backdate: early Sunday morning)

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