☽ It takes a monster to destroy a monster

[selenokinesis]

Who: Ebalon & All Y'all
What: Ebalon blows himself up with a portal. There is an ensuing tantrum when he comes back to life.
When: 10/6 (initial explosion); 10/9 (everything else)
Where: The Atrium, Promenade, Ebalon's Cabin, & Sports Deck
Warnings: Unintentional death by explosions, gore & gross descriptions, general violence, Ebalon being himself



[Mid-afternoon, an explosion originating from the atrium rings out loud and clear. Though it isn't enough to rock the ship, small in nature as it is, it is enough to leave a sizeable hole in the middle of the floor, where one might fall through if they aren't careful. Lying wedged into the partially-destroyed floor are the smouldering, red-hot remnants of a portal frame, the top half entirely missing, though if one looks hard enough they might find the shrapnel lying some hundreds of feet off. Next to it, hanging precariously on the edge and about to drop into the hole, is a torso-sized, faceted white crystal. It pulses brightly once, twice, and finally fades out.

...

Somewhere on the promenade, a shower of blood and offal rains down from above, bits of torn intestines and strands of stark white hair decorating the brightly-lit strip.]

Cabin 101 - Closed to Established CR

[The door to Ebalon's cabin is open on the 9th.

It's a semi-open invitation to come talk to him. "Hey, how are you doing, sorry you died" or "hey fuckface we told you that wouldn't work" or "what the fuck were you thinking", something to that effect. If he doesn't like you, there's a high chance he'll turn you away at the door.

Ebalon is sitting at his desk, furiously scrawling something into his notebook on a page dated "10/07". Sitting atop it is that large, white crystal spotted at one of two initial crime scenes, recovered and scratched and as inert as the day he received it. He had managed to temporarily charge it long enough to power the portal, but in its current state, it is — again — useless to him.

Annoyed and yet again throwing himself into his work to avoid the tumultuous emotions stirring in his chest, Ebalon taps his pen against the inert Moon El, looking more frustrated than anything right about now. More concerning than his expression might be the visible corruption on his face and neck almost the colour of a bruise, etched with a bright blue motherboard pattern. That same pattern appears on both hands, though Ebalon very clearly is making his best attempt to ignore it.

He hardly looks up as you enter. Unless your name is Mizuki, and then he's immediately getting up from his chair for an embrace.]

Sports Deck - OTA

[Chagrin can only be ignored for so long before it festers like a gangrenous wound.

Ebalon makes his way to the sports deck, staff clutched tightly in his left hand while his spellbook floats after him at a brisk pace, pages fluttering in the breeze. It's late, just a bit before midnight on the night of the full moon, and he's in no mood to talk to any fellow night-owls on his way. In fact, talking to him in general is likely a bad idea (though you're always welcome to try), given that his first action upon arriving at his destination is to easily and effortlessly obliterate a part of the court with a shower of black-coloured magic. A crest flares at his back, glowing an ominous purple.

One failed idea after another. A permanent cycle of living aboard this ship. The inability to do a single thing about not only his own situation, but the situations of the people here stuck with him. Helpless, hopeless, useless, how can a man like him become someone else's toy?!

White-hot fury reaches a boiling point. With a sudden, jerky motion, he swings his staff wide and points it at the odd, ball-shaped tower nearby, eradicating it entirely with a single moonbeam. It does little to sate him, and, in fact, he thinks he might just be up for destroying this entire section of the ship. And more, perhaps!

Why not just cast them all into oblivion for eternity? It's all they're going to get at this rate! Why not give up? Give in? Spill blood as much as he wants, because it's not like any of this matters anyhow!

Ebalon takes a deep breath, tilting his head back to look at the moon. A short reprieve, as he distantly wonders if he can possibly get to the ship's engines and blow them up. If it would stick. If permadeath is better than an eternity constrained to servitude.

With a deep, exhausted sigh, his attacks continue.]

Wildcard
[Sorry I only have two prompts here, please feel free to wildcard something if these don't work for you. Ebalon is usually spotted in the library or Hurikane these days if you want to talk to him somewhere else!]

Comments

The Atrium

[makesomedeals]

[Max's first assumption is that Jinx blew something up again. But the portal is new. The white crystal is slightly familiar and then the white hair starts to sprinkle down along with the blood and guts. Max can't help but chuckle at the Moon Master's apparent attempt to leave.

It's not the same uproarious laughter as when Peter Smith sailed to his death but it's certainly cheerful given Max's atrocious mood since the excursion.

He even pulls out his phone and snaps a picture.

Does he need to since he has an actual photographic memory? No. But he does so anyway. First item on his camera roll too, a high honor.]

A valiant effort my friend. [He says to the blood puddle.] I'll keep these for you so Friday doesn't get any ideas.

[Not that Ebalon can even hear him. But Max will gather up the portal remnants he can find and keep them in his room for when he revives, assuming that this will be immediately cleaned up the moment he turns his back. World's best enemy right here.]

[selenokinesis]

[World's best enemy indeed! Ebalon couldn't ask for a better one, truly. At least Max stays committed.

The portal remnants are scattered about, but surely Max will be able to find them all. Multiple trips may be required. It's when Ebalon revives, returns to the atrium, and doesn't see the remnants of the portal around that he assumes that either a) Friday or the ghosts cleaned up or b) someone else got here first. And, well, when he discovers Friday is absent (and that there's still blood lingering where his, erm, meat was teleported)...

...and that there's a hole in the floor still...

...

Really! People will loot goddamn anything in this place! Thus begins Ebalon's search to find where the remains of the portal went, because he astutely assumes there will be bits left somewhere. This leads him to knocking on every single door on the ship and asking questions, right until he gets to Max's door, where he pauses and debates if he really has the energy to deal with Max right now. The answer is no, but he's just going to have to suck it up.

Knock knock. Guess who's alive?]

[makesomedeals]

[Max has been busily recovering from a panic attack babysitting Ebalon's trash for the past few days. Honestly he's a little perplexed that it hasn't vanished yet, it seems to be trash but it hasn't been collected when the ghosts tend to the room. Max hasn't even noticed the lack of housekeeping services lately because he's so fastidious they have nothing to do anyway.

Someone knocking at the door is a little unusual; generally the people he talks to text him first. But he opens it anyway, visibly surprised that it's Ebalon. But he recovers himself almost instantly.]

Ah, good afternoon. I see you're back in fine form. [Meaning he's in a single piece instead of hundreds.] I take it whatever you were attempting did not go to plan?

[Sure he says it condescendingly, but he actually does believe that Ebalon knows what he's doing when it comes to magic. So he's assuming that something else went wrong. Maybe the Captain interfered?]

[selenokinesis]

[The condescension is expected, and it gives a sense of normalcy about the situation — since, you know, the ship isn't repairing itself, the restaurants aren't serving food, and the ghosts seem to have unionized.

Ebalon folds his arms over his chest, looking more tired than anything. Death isn't a great replacement for sleep.]

The portal functions as far as "turning on", "being able to input coordinates", and "sending furniture to a different location". Sending a sentient being through results in a catastrophic explosion, though I believe I did teleport in my final moments. [He hums thoughtfully, a hand on his chin. He's assuming that it was his blood scattered all over the promenade, anyhow.] I didn't attempt to send anything outside this dimension, so I'm not entirely sure where or what went wrong. The dimensional rules may have a failsafe in check...

[He shakes his head.]

Regardless, I'm here about the remnants of the portal. The ship doesn't seem to be repairing itself, and judging by the state of things before and after I died, the ghosts aren't doing their jobs either. I imagine, then, that someone made off with whatever was left behind of those bits — if you have any leads.

[makesomedeals]

Yes I did notice that there's some unfortunate ... remains. [Meaning the Ebalon residue all over the atrium.]

That's actually further than I would have expected you to get, being able to actually teleport furniture around. I'm surprised you tried it yourself and didn't throw an unwilling participant through it first, you'd be able to take notes better that way.

[Just a helpful suggestion from a guy who apparently has more of a self-preservation instinct than the Moon Master. He pushes the door the rest of the way open revealing the pile of portal crap on the ground.]

I figured either Ekko or César would try and salvage it to make guns or hovercraft or some other nonsense. You seem to be the only one actively trying to leave so.. [He gestures to the portal bits. There's a ... grudging sort of acknowledgement there that Ebalon might be someone helpful in the future. While Max knows he can't go back to his world at the moment he was taken, that doesn't mean he still can't leave. And if Ebalon is working on that sort of technology he will just pretend it's not magic at all then Max will VERY UNWILLINGLY maybe assist with that. Possibly.]

[selenokinesis]

[He put his residue everywhere just to remind people that he's still here and a plague to everyone else's existence. You all had your quiet months where he barely did anything, now he's putting his intestines on the floors.

Ebalon stares down at the mess of scraps, lets out a little laugh, an "Of course," and then sweeps forward to begin to pick up the mess. Though... the scrap metal had been heavy enough as it was, and refined into chunks of portal like this, it's even more cumbersome to carry, not to mention the sharp edges from the fallout. He makes the executive decision to give up on his entire "don't reveal the pocket dimension" thing then and there, too tired to muster a single modicum of Give A Fuck. Pulling out a silver compass from his pocket, Ebalon mutters a command in Dragonspeak and taps the blue gemstone on the cover against each scrap left behind. They immediately disappear in small flashes of white light.

Meanwhile, Ebalon just... talks. As he's wont to do.]

I have a poor reputation here. To send a participant — however willing — through a portal as a test, would have consequences falling back on my shoulders when they died. [Though, he's slowly giving up on caring about his reputation. People are so mad at the Captain, he thinks he can rally people to stand up to the guy even if he himself is a rat bastard.] Regardless of that... it does seem as though I owe you for this favour, as well as a "thank you".

[makesomedeals]

[Max folds his arms and watches, casually leaning against the wall of his room. Other than this pile of portal chunks, the room is fairly immaculate, he hasn't noticed the housekeeping ghosts are on strike yet.]

At the risk of sounding even remotely complimentary, I don't think anyone here has a particularly good reputation. Maybe Fio. But that's only going to continue to get worse; now that everyone knows the truth of our situation here they'll start getting desperate, and desperation drives people to do, well [ He gestures at Ebalon.] things that may have unfortunate outcomes.

[A huff at that.] You can thank me by never speaking of it again.

What do you suppose went wrong that caused the... mishap. [You know, the ... explosion.]

[mooninthewater]

[ Well, the joke's on Ebalon, since Mizuki is right outside of Ebalon's door the moment he goes to open it. Natsuno had come back yesterday, so of course Mizuki waited patiently outside Ebalon's door on his third night to see if that was a pattern. Sure enough…

He takes absolutely no time to shove past the rest of the door and nearly tackle into Ebalon, arms and tentacles coiling around him to squeeze him tightly. All the worry and sadness and anger and anxiety are still there, heavy in his heart, but he can ignore them just long enough to give what comfort and relief he has over to Ebalon. All these unspoken "I missed you"s crammed into a single hug.

These past few days have been really fucking hard. He thought this month had started off great, with the information meeting, and the promise of a future, yet this? Ebalon dying? Natsuno dying? Both of them not showing back up the next day? It's honestly a goddamn miracle he's so well kept together now, considering how much of a mess he was at the time. Jenny will have to deal with a ransacked room as well, considering Mizuki's reactions to these sorts of things are pretty environmentally violent.

Something the two of them have in common, really.

But right now, all he wants to do is feel Ebalon in his arms and make sure he's really here. ]

[selenokinesis]

[The joke is indeed on him, but Mizuki is getting swept into that embrace anyway, corrupted hands clutching his lover so tight he thinks it might be Mizuki being suffocated for once. The tentacles and the, well, Mizuki in general, are all so comforting and familiar that it almost feels like he didn't explode into a spray of gore at all.

(His flesh still burns when he thinks about it. Tearing, searing pain, muscles and skin ripped from bone, his vision sliding in two different directions while his eyeballs melted out of his skull—)

Ebalon runs a hand through Mizuki's hair, twirling it between his fingers as he always does.]

I'm alright. [No. He's not alright. There's a tumultuous storm brewing in his chest, but at least there's relief in the fact that he can feel Mizuki's emotions again. That hasn't changed, at least.] I promise you, I'm alright.

[No, nope, no matter how hard he tries, the Henir corruption from his real form is bleeding through Harque's disguise. His hands shake around Mizuki, but whether from fear or upset, he can't tell. Maybe it's both.]

[mooninthewater]

[ Mizuki ends up just rubbing his face into Ebalon's chest, perhaps to nuzzle him, or perhaps to shake his head "no". Perhaps even both. But it's the only response Ebalon gets as Mizuki finds a hard time to find his voice. His mouth opens and closes like a real fish for a moment, little shaky breaths being the only thing to come out. It's funny, he's had this conversation before that he needs to just accept that death comes cheap here. He's had the conversation that he needs to come to terms that he needs to not get so torn up about it, else it might drive him crazy. He thought he was getting better about it, what with Venti's death over a month ago, but… it's different to physically feel it, isn't it? To feel that pain, and furthermore, to feel his soul being split apart yet again.

To put it simply, it was overwhelming. But more than that, at the end of it, the worst part wasn't the pain, or the soul splitting, or even knowing something had happened to Ebalon, but rather the fact that he wasn't there to help. Wasn't there to protect Ebalon. Wasn't there to stop all that pain. And then the worst thing just got even worse when Ebalon wasn't back the next day. He doesn't want Ebalon to know how sick he felt thinking that he wouldn't come back, or thinking that his "forever" had been cut far too short. He's here now, he doesn't have to think about that. ]

You died. [ His voice cracks. ] Don't you dare say you're alright, that's bullshit. [ Even if they weren't sharing emotions, even Mizuki could tell that much. ] …I was so scared I wasn't ever going to see you again.

[selenokinesis]

Come now, I wouldn't leave you after only one day.

[Ha! Haha!! That's funny! What a cool joke!

Ebalon takes the opportunity to sweep Mizuki fully into the room and shut the door. Open house over, he's got a boyfriend to console. To curl around. To drag over to his bed and put in his lap and lean his forehead against. His sweet, sweet Mizuki...]

I apologise. I didn't think... [Beat.] I didn't think. I was trying to test the portal, despite hearing it might be a fruitless endeavour. It was only meant to take me from the atrium to the promenade.

[Technically, it fulfilled that! The thing fucking worked! Unfortunately, pocket dimension laws state that "working" comes with the consequence of "exploding horribly". Three months of work, all for naught. Something bitter mixes into their emotional connection, weak, but present all the same.

He's tired. He's so, so tired. All of that time researching portals through journalistic accounts Friday had handed him, to building one, to getting the fucking Moon El powered, and all of it wound up serving no purpose other than to kill him. It's proof that the situation is as hopeless as he feared.]

[mooninthewater]

It's been three. [ Just going to rip that band-aid off. Realistically, it serves a purpose, to tell Ebalon that something's wrong, and also let him know that if there's any more death that happens that he shouldn't be surprised if it takes a while for people to appear again. But in the moment, Mizuki isn't saying it to be helpful. It's from a place of hurt, and a place where Mizuki wants Ebalon to understand just how long he's been hurting. Natsuno had come back after three days, too, and that had given him some hope after the despair, but that didn't make that anxiety and fear go away.

But, as always, Mizuki is easy to move around, and easy to sit with, so soft and light and going back to his usual mannerisms like nothing had really been wrong to begin with. Well, aside from the tears spilling down his face anyway. He makes little attempt to stop them. ]

Y-you should have… told me. O-or let me help you or… tested it somehow without you being the dummy! You're not alone in these things anymore, you know??

1/2

[selenokinesis]

It's been—

[Three. Three days. And in that time, his hunch he got on the 1st when he started breaking things in the hall appears to be confirmed — nothing on the ship repairs itself. That hole in the atrium would've fixed itself in less than one day, and yet when he went by it to recover the Moon El, it was still present. (And who knows if any kindly volunteers decided to clean up his blood or anything like that.)

Ebalon does that thing he does when he's upset and can't start pacing, which is to flop back onto the bed. This time, he doesn't take Mizuki down with him, but instead splays his arms out to either side of him and stares up at the ceiling with something of a baffled expression.

Three days. The regeneration time for the passengers increased to three days, the ship and items aboard it won't repair, and... and Mizuki is hurting so none of that scientific, observational mumbo-jumbo actually matters right now.]

2/2

[selenokinesis]

[Blue eyes flick to Mizuki's expression as his shock is momentarily pushed aside. He focuses on how Mizuki feels, both in the physical sense of sitting on his lap and in the more emotional sense, and then sits up on his elbows. Somehow, he's not motivated enough to fully resume sitting up.]

I didn't expect that result. Had I asked someone else to assist me, I would have blood on my hands, and my reputation is already suffering. I cannot afford to be blamed for more death.

[Oh, but he's about to singlehandedly cause more of it, because somewhere in his state of Dissociating To Focus Only On Mizuki, he's beginning to realise that none of this matters.

Death doesn't stick.

He can do whatever he wants.

Who cares? Who cares who cares who cares who cares—]

It had moved objects perfectly fine when I sent furniture through it. I thought... [he holds his head in his hand,] I thought it might— [Not important.] I wouldn't subject you to that danger.

[mooninthewater]

[ Well, it's good to hear that Ebalon didn't just throw himself in before tossing in inanimate objects, but that doesn't make Mizuki any less upset about it. Portals like this always still need some sort of vehicle or protective gear to travel through it his reality? Why would Ebalon think something like this would work without more tests? Without more time? It's not like they're running out of that anytime soon. Skulduggery had even said they might not even be stuck here. He can't understand why Ebalon feels so hopeless when this is, perhaps, the most hopeful news Mizuki's heard.

It takes him a moment, but he finally leans forward to push Ebalon back onto the bed so he can just lie on top of him and curl up. He doesn't understand. It doesn't make sense. He wants to be mad, he wants to berate Ebalon, but he also just wants to exist here and try to provide whatever he has in the way of physical comfort. ]

What makes it okay that you're in danger, then? As if I'd want you to do something that would hurt you like that? I love you so, so much, Dantalion. I-I can't… [ Hands finally go over his face as the tears get a little more relentless. ] What if he decides to get rid of that whole death thing? What if he gets bored and decides to make it permanent for fun?

What if I lose you for good?

cabin 101

[killed]

[In the end, he hadn't achieved his goal. It had ended poorly, but that's the way of things in science. There is failure after failure before a person finally succeeds in their goal. There are sacrifices that must be made and hardships to be had, and a person might even need to give up their own body for the cause. ASUNARO is, that kind of place. Hiyori doesn't allow himself to get caught up in his frustration, but nor will his disrespect the other by offering pity to a person who's done more than others, or treating him as some frail thing; it's one step forward, it's one step toward a goal.

So instead he says, ]

I'm impressed that you were able to construct such a brilliant machine in a place like this. I've struggled to find adequate materials to put together anything of real value.

[ It was a brilliant machine, one the finest he's seen, and to be able to make it in a place such as this is no small feat... Any member of his company would be chomping at the bit to be able to understand such a thing.

There's more that he wants to say, but he starts there. It might be a bit painful to hear when it didn't work as intended, but that hardly takes away from the effort put into it... Honestly, despite his general outlook it made him sick to see it go to waste. ]

Your work never fails to impress me.

[selenokinesis]

[Irate as he currently is, Hiyori is a welcome presence; his cold, analytical nature is exactly what Ebalon needs when he's acting out. The rest of Henir's Order was never quite like this. In fact, if he gets pissed off, they all either hide so not to incur his wrath or join him in wanton destruction. It doesn't happen often back home, as there's not much to interrupt his plans, but.

Well. That isn't the point.

He leans back in his chair, legs crossed, blackened hand twirling his pen between his fingers.]

Is that so? Huhu, those devices are becoming fairly common where I'm from. I only needed to acquire the requisite materials and figure out the construction and a power source.

[He taps the back of the pen against the Moon El, currently a useless rock. At least it seems to be able to be powered, albeit temporarily. It was quite taxing to charge the thing up again, too, so he's even more disappointed that it's inert again.]

My Order, [he says, quieter now,] specializes in things like this. Conquering the unknown, inventing devices, [causing undue mayhem,] the works.

Promenade

[tempingainteasy]

[and as the echoes of the last bits of splatter fade to a slow and gentle dripping (under the muffled arcade and piano bar noises), April remains stock still, arms held slightly akimbo as what happened sinks into them like the blood sinking into their hair and Tommy Bahama blouse.

They take a deep breath in. The breathe out. The gore is still there, and they can smell it, too. Fantastic, great, cool! Amazing!!! GREAT!!!!!]

God damn it.

[They swerve from their original destination, turning back and waddling awkwardly towards the elevator so they can fucking shower this shit off and change into something better.]

throws myself in here almost 2 weeks late

[barfeathers]

[ Ebalon doesn't need to look up from what he's doing. He doesn't even need to make any sort of acknowledgement for her existence. Hell, even if he had, the result would've been the same, because it seems this crow is very, very unhappy. And it's hard to stop her when she's on her warpath.

Which is why Ebalon's getting just fucking decked in the head. Welcome... back? ]

picks you up!!!

[selenokinesis]

[He's sitting at his desk still when she comes in, and he's clearly not expecting to be punched, because he just. lets this happen.

Usually, no one gets away with bonking Ebalon, but it's Pluma, so she's allowed. More to the point, he makes a little "ow" noise and rubs the area on his head where she hit, looking up at her from his chair.]

Yes, yes, pleased to see you again, too.

[barfeathers]

You're an idiot!

[ If her eyes look glassy, it's a trick of the light, and not because she's teary eyed. ]

How can someone so smart be so fucking dumb? How could you go and do that??? Don't you know how worried you made people??? [ Well, okay, like, the amount of people is easily counted on one hand, but her point still stands, damn it. ]

[selenokinesis]

[Ebalon has three whole friends? Most people were probably glad he died.

Regardless, he sits there in stunned silence for a moment, staring at La Pluma like she's growing another head.]

It was an experiment gone awry, [he finally says, quietly,] that wasn't the intended result. Something interfered with the portal...

[barfeathers]

You tested something out without the precaution or the realization or the fucking humility to ask someone else to check over your work? And don't give me that "Oh, no one else would get it," bullshit like there couldn't have been something someone could've helped you with.

[ If she's scolding you with the intensity of a very angry mother, it's because she's doing exactly that. It doesn't matter that she looks like she's about to cry, she's fucking PISSED. ]

Don't give me excuses. You were stupid. You don't say "It didn't work," because that doesn't matter. You say "I'm so sorry for worrying you," you dumb motherfucker!!!

[selenokinesis]

[He stares. Awkwardly. Not sure how to process her emotions, clenching and unclenching his hands in his lap. His eyes shift to the side of the room to stare at literally anything else. Like his shoes by the door or a coat hanging up on the wall or even just the goddamn carpet.

...]

I tested it by shoving furniture through it, and it worked. Elrian magicks are complex, and need I remind you, I have no other friends here — the ones likely to check my work would sooner sabotage it. That, and the involvement of others in general damns me to generating more ire thrown in my direction for ridiculous reasons that I don't have the energy nor the time to entertain—

[He realises, when he looks back at her face, that he's getting defensive for stupid reasons. And then he backtracks. Tries to, anyway.]

...If you were worried, then I do apologise. My intent wasn't to die horribly. It was to test this machine and ensure that it would work to send everyone home, if they wished it.

[barfeathers]

[ Okay, sorry, Ebalon. Hopefully that paper in front of you wasn't important because La Pluma is whipping her scythe from her back and smacking it swiftly through it and embedding the blade into the desk. She grabs his collar to pull him closer to stare him down, corruption and all. ]

No, you don't get it, Ebalon. There. Is. None. Of. That. You don't GET to say "It didn't work." You don't GET to sit there and give me excuses. You don't DESERVE me to accept such a weak apology! Do you know what you sound like right now?

"I'm sorry, but-"

Who the hell is going to take an apology like that?