iwasmore | (no subject)

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Noah's walking through Petros Park on his way back to Hywel, taking his time to enjoy the cool weather, when he hears a familiar caw. There aren't exactly many ravens in Darrow, and so Chainsaw's sounds always stand out. Noah squints up at the sky, bringing a hand up to shield his eyes from the sun, and smiles when he sees her.

"Hi!" he calls to Chainsaw, but she only circles above his head, squawking Ronan's name. Frowning a little, Noah looks for him instead, finally noticing his friend coming up the path ahead of him.

"Hey," he says with an uncertain smile, shoving his hands into his pockets, slouching a little. "What's up with her?"

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Even without his Chainsaw's warning, he would have heard the footsteps; industrial-type boots crunching gravel as someone charged him. He turned just in time to see--

What the fuck?

Undeterred by Ronan Prime's "menacing" handful of his hoodie, Ronan 2 stared up at the sky, watched his chainsaw swoop and dodge the other's. They swirled around each other, and Ronan 2 wasn't sure if it was a game or a fight. It might have been both.

With both hands, Ronan 2 shoved his doppleganger hard, dislodging him from his personal space. For a split second, Ronan realized it was bizarre to push himself out of his own personal space, but this other Ronan looked soft and breakable and it made Ronan 2 righteously angry. It was a good angry, the kind that he liked to let sit in his chest.

"Your conscience," Ronan deadpanned, tugging a cigarette pack from seemingly nowhere and lighting it. It wasn't that this mirror image of himself wasn't threatening, it was that he would sooner put the cigarette out in his eye than let him know he was rattled. "Seemed like you needed a couple reminders." He scowled sidelong at Noah, not bothering to look at him all crumpled and pathetic on the ground.

Edited 2016-09-24 02:43 (UTC)

Noah feels like he's having a panic attack, like he can't breathe, which is so stupid considering he doesn't need to. But there are two Ronan's. Not Ronan and someone who looks like Ronan, but two different Ronan Lynch's. And one has no idea who he is, which explains the reaction but is little comfort because there are two Ronan's.

And he told the not-Ronan he loves him.

This is definitely a panic attack.

But it's okay, he can still think. He can remind himself he's dead, ghosts can't have panic attacks. He has total control over this body because of the spell. He can breathe and stand up and not be a total idiot about this. Think. Breathe. Stand.

So Noah stands in that fluid way that's more ghost than boy, going from sitting to standing without really moving.

"Ronan--" he starts to say, looking between them until his gaze settles on his Ronan. "I'm fine."

This other Ronan isn't like any terror he's ever seen or dreamt into being, but the dread that curdles low in his belly feels the same even before he's being shoved backward. He's always known the difference between his dreams and reality, but suddenly Ronan's second-guessing fucking everything as he watches a mirror image of himself pull out a pack of cigarettes.

Out the corner of his eye, he sees Noah suddenly on his feet. Noah, who looks just as shaken as Ronan feels.

Above them, Chainsaw and her own doppelgänger screech and flap wildly, the sound of it matching the mess under Ronan's ribcage.

It's Noah's voice that draws him back, the quiet words meant as reassurance. Except none of this fucking fine. Ronan has no idea what the fuck is going on, but it's not Goddamn fine.

He lunges, lips pulled back in a violent sneer as swings his fist straight at the imposter's face.

Either Lynch wasn't expecting this flaccid cock to hit him or he welcomed it. The punch connected to his jaw and Lynch sprayed blood and spit and smoke out. He clutched the other Ronan's jacket and pulled him down to knee him squarely in the stomach. Shame; he'd been aiming a little lower. Maybe the little shit had caught him off-guard. He was wearing his face and he punched like someone who liked dick way less than he obviously did. Good. That meant Niall Lynch had taught him to fight and that meant that his father was a constant in all universes. Good. He deserved to be.

Lynch's cigarette was still smoldering stubbornly in the gravel just within arm's reach. Cigarettes were infinite -- anything was to the Greywaren -- but this particular one had Ronan Prime's irritation all over it and that made it valuable. To make sure Ronan could not stop him, Lynch kicked his leg out from under him and bent for the cigarette. He spat red on the spot where the cigarette had laid and picked it up, inspected it quickly, and took a deep pull.

Just in case that little albino fucker was getting any ideas, Ronan warned, "don't come any closer, shitstain." Maybe he'd consider pulling his punches (not that he had) with his likeness, but not some snotnosed little ghost-looking waif with all of the constitution of a dirty sock.

Noah's eyes raise to the two Chainsaws fighting above him, his heart racing with the speed of their movements, his anxiety spiking from the thought of either of them getting hurt. And then Ronan lunges at his double, pulling Noah's attention back to them. He flaps his hands like he's the one who's been punched, cowardice like lead around his feet.

A memory flashes through his mind, of Ronan speeding in the Pig with a night horror on its roof. You could help!

They can't fight, if this other Ronan is anything like his Ronan they'll never stop. So Noah disappears, re-manifesting between them where he can tell Ronan is already in the midst of getting to his feet. Noah grabs Ronan to help him up, but then tries to push him back and away from the other. "Don't, please. Ronan."

Ronan doubles over at the blow, wind knocked out of him as the other Ronan kicks at his leg and sends him dropping to his knees. It's exactly the kind of hit Ronan should've expected given it's exactly the kind of hit he'd make himself in the same position and fury rockets through him as he seethes up at his own face.

Ignoring the ache in his belly, Ronan jumps back to his feet, but then Noah's right between them, his hands against Ronan's chest and eyes wide, tone pleading.

"Noah," Ronan growls, a low warning as he tries to push past him, tries to reach for the fucking cigarette so he can shove it down his throat. "I'm gonna fucking rip your head off and piss down your throat, asswipe. Where did you even come from?"

The news that this transparent turd is supernatural was something of a shock to Lynch, but you'd never know it. The only tell was a pulled-back sneer, but maybe that was more for his counterpart's obvious bravado.

"You handsome faggot," Ronan chuckle-growled, stepping out of reach to take a languid, satisfying drag on his cigarette. "Pretty far fuckin' cry from Dick Dick Dick's dick." Ronan reached for Lynch again and he plunged the tip of his cigarette into Ronan's hand, between the first and second knuckle. The one he wanted to harm, the other he didn't care if he did or didn't. He stepped out of reach and re-lit his cigarette on principal.

"Does the poor kid you're fucking know about you and the albino?"

The moment the other Ronan shoves a lit cigarette against Ronan's hand, Noah snaps. This isn't a fight. This isn't yelling and slurs and punches, there's something about the cigarette, burning Ronan that sets Noah off. He turns without turning, he's just suddenly in front of the other Ronan, the air around them dropping a few dozen temperatures until it feels like the middle of winter instead of the end of summer. His body grows larger, stretches the way a body shouldn't so that he can tower over the other Ronan, his skin transparent to show the dark and the wispy essence of whatever he is underneath it all. His skull, bashed and shadowed, shows through the facade that is his face, but the stone-cold dead glare is unmistakable.

He grabs both of the other Ronan's hands, locking his own ice cold fingers around them, crushing the extinguishing the cigarette and holding him there.

"Get out of here," he says, his voice like gravel, low and menacing and just for the other Ronan. "Get out, before I posses you. Before I turn you into a vegetable."

He lets go of the other Ronan's hands, but remains in front of him, a wall between each Lynch.

Edited 2016-09-29 21:07 (UTC)

Ronan feels the burn before he knows what's happening, sharp and bright-hot, and he lets out a strangled groan as he yanks his hand back. Noah's suddenly between them then, his back to Ronan and... fuck, huge. Expanding. Close as he is, Ronan can see his skin thinning and bones stretching, can see the decaying corpse beneath the beautiful boy and he stumbles back further.

Noah's voice is ice, entirely directed at the other Ronan, the other him. Above them, both Chainsaws screech wildly, one of them diving straight for Noah before the other swoops in to block her, both birds tumbling away in a mess of beating feathers.

"Noah," Ronan shouts, cradling his burnt hand against his chest. Noah's a ghost and virtually indestructible, but Ronan has no idea what this other fucker is capable of and he's not about to let Noah get in the middle of it.

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