Hemoproteins

And now they're going. Somewhere.

Ryoma sits, folding his legs beneath him. Though his head and heart hurt less, there's a new nuisance. His clothes leave him soaked to the bone and shivering in the lab's cold air. The rat nestled in his lap, despite its flame, is little help.

Deal with it, he tells himself, Think of it like waterfall training the monks do. Could use some mindfulness right now.

He forces himself to meet Ember's eye. Shame is a shackle. Move on. "Where am I? Who are you?"

The couple watches as Sakamoto settles in front of them, noting the rat spirit trying to drive the chill of the lab off of the soaking wet man. They could fix that later.

Ember gives a slight smile when he looks them in the eyes and gets to his questions. Straight to the point, though they could have done without the — admittedly, completely understandable — drama. This one has deep intelligence in his gaze, even if he’s frazzled and completely out of his element. The shame in his expression gives them pause.

Hopefully he wasn’t blaming himself for their own body pitching a complete fit, even if his outburst certainly had not helped. Straightening their back slightly, they speak, voice stronger with their stabilizing blood pressure.

“Where?” Hm… “The city of Iga, Mie Prefecture, Japan. More specifically, Iga University, in the Fukuzawa Lab. As for who? I am Dr. Ember Williams, one of the lead researchers of the Sato-Williams team that operates out of this lab.” They gesture to Kurou, managing to snag his hand with one of theirs. He easily laces his fingers with theirs. “This one is my husband, Genke Kurou. He’s an assistant in this lab. And I presume you’ve already met Adams.”

They stop again, glancing back up to the monitors. The chair had been shoved aside at some point, likely while they were unconscious, allowing them to see that the model was still being generated. They return their gaze to Sakamoto, but take in more of his clothing, sopping wet as it is, and the little rat staring at them. … was it smoking a pipe? They brush that aside, hoping their befuddlement stays off their face.

“But, we’re missing a few details with just those answers. How? A Realm fold, somehow, but I need to examine the data properly to get any more details that aren’t just speculation. What and why? Who knows,” they shrug.

“When?” A wry smile on their lips. “Welcome to the 2040s, Sakamoto Ryoma.”

Kurou winces slightly and gives Sakamoto an apologetic look. While Ember’s blunt tact is helpful for slamming facts down the funding department’s throat, it’s far less helpful in this situation. He hopes the poor man can keep up.

Ember opens their mouth again, then pauses when Kurou squeezes their side.

“Let him take a moment, dear,” he chides gently.

“Ah.” They blink. Whoops.

Oh boy.

Ryoma bows his head, eyes darting, fist to his mouth as he processes all that information. Adams wonders how he'd react in his shoes. Falling through time, fresh off of slaying a nine-tailed goddess, well over four hundred years in the future, parted from his loves and his children...he supposes his brain would break too.

"Sato-Williams team," Sakamoto finally says, looking up and cracking a small smile, "Ojiisan, you never said you're an inventor!"

Don't call me that lest you get punched again, William thinks.

Saoirse, quietly observing from the back of his mind the whole time, sends him a current of calm. He exhales a deep breath. The man advised the shogun himself. It's just been a very stressful day.

"Doctor. Kurou." Adams offers Ember a hand. "Perhaps it's better we show him before he catches his death." He glances at the ronin. "Good news: tuberculosis is gone."

Ryoma squints back at him. "Gone?"

"Gone. Taken out in 2038."

His smile grows. "Gone! No...no more deaths? Or no one gets it anymore?" And it fades. "Wait. You mean...the year 2038?"

It's going to be a long night.

#eclecticlysm #ki-pulse #{realm communications: interactions}#{the dear doctor: ember}#{the displaced crow: kurou}

Kurou snorts at the comment. In terms of time alive, William certainly counts as a grandfather a few times over. Though, his own chronological age puts everyone else as far younger. He brushes the thought aside.

And it certainly wasn’t the first time someone had missed that Ember was the co-founder of the research group (and the entire field of study, somehow). Well. At least he’s being polite. It may work in their favor, anyways.

They take the offered hand, leveraging themself upright. Both knees crack loudly, and they ignore it, fighting off the wave of dizziness that rears up again. An arm remains around their back, and they manage to grab their chair and sit at their station again. This data will not interpret itself.

“Fair enough. We have spare clothes in the office,” accidents had occurred before, especially in the chemistry room of the complex. “Kurou can lead you two there and try to find something to put the poor thing in. I need to look over this mess.” Those odd source parameters… they were lining up with an older theory, actually, and so they reach for an old notebook in the shelf under the desk.

Kurou smiles at the implicit dismissal: they were tired and wanted to focus on their work instead of holding the hand of someone dumped into their lab without warning. Which was fine, he could handle this with William there to help corral the displaced rōnin. And so he moves to the door, waves William and Ryoma over.

“This way. Please keep the gun hidden, it’s illegal to have one on university grounds.” One last glance back at Ember, and he sees them reaching for their water and an electrolyte packet. Good, that would stabilize them further. Aden was still below them, as well, so he feels comfortable enough to leave them alone for now. He would likely send Ibuki back over anyways, get a second set of eyes on whatever had his darling itching to have time to themself.

"Kurou, what happened here?"

Send “What happened here?” to find my muse after they’ve finished fighting a brutal fight.

Kurou groans at the question, throwing a glare in William’s direction. Surely, the dissipating feather-blades and receding Dark Realm is enough for even the former pirate to figure it out?

His back hurts. Not many figure out that his wings are rather delicate, but those that do often abuse that, to his irritation. The Hino-Enma in the abandoned parking garage was among those, though he’s sure it was a lucky guess. Maybe. Regardless, he hurts and it’s hard for him to stand. Thankfully, the undershirt survived his shift, and he stumbles over to where he had stashed his sword case and jacket. Yanks it on with a huff and leans down to grab the case, hissing at that agitating his wounds.

“Took care of an incredibly stubborn Hino-Enma,” he grumbles. “We can discuss more over food. I missed dinner for this.”

#{the displaced crow: kurou}#ki-pulse #{raw data: memes}#queued #{email from external source: asks}

And now they're going. Somewhere.

Deal with it, he tells himself, Think of it like waterfall training the monks do. Could use some mindfulness right now.

He forces himself to meet Ember's eye. Shame is a shackle. Move on. "Where am I? Who are you?"

#ki-pulse #eclecticlysm #{realm communications: interactions}#{the displaced crow: kurou}#{the dear doctor: ember}

The couple watches as Sakamoto settles in front of them, noting the rat spirit trying to drive the chill of the lab off of the soaking wet man. They could fix that later.

“When?” A wry smile on their lips. “Welcome to the 2040s, Sakamoto Ryoma.”

Ember opens their mouth again, then pauses when Kurou squeezes their side.

“Let him take a moment, dear,” he chides gently.

“Ah.” They blink. Whoops.

“What happened here?” (Kurou)

Send “What happened here?” to find my muse after they’ve finished fighting a brutal fight.

“Nothing good,” he snaps, agitation rolling off of him in waves. Goddamn Gaki, he’d never seen them gather together like that before. Takechiyo’s descriptions from centuries ago were correct, though, and he had not been prepared for how hard the apparent chief could hit.

Standing slowly, he dismisses the spectral feather-blades in his hands. He aches, had been stuck in a small alley even before the aratama swarmed into each other, unable to move as much as he needed to. Blocking and parrying were harder on him now, his age starting to catch up to him.

He shakes all of that aside. Hide’s here, now, a bit late, but he appreciates the company nonetheless. The other Shiftling likely had been caught up with cleaning up a mess nearby, but at least everything was calm now. Even if he hurt like hell from being punched into a wall.

#{the displaced crow: kurou}#{raw data: memes}#{email from external source: asks}#{ he's cranky about getting a massive bruise to his ego. don't mind him }#queued

Anger withering in the wake of whatever the fuck just happened, it occurs to William. Something else he's always liked about Ryoma: impeccable trigger discipline.

Sakamoto's finger is still on the side of the gun despite his wide eyes and fast breath. Adams can't imagine what's going through his head. Never had a blade to your throat? he thinks.

He takes a step closer to the stunned samurai. Answers? Sure. William points at Ember. "Doctor." Then at Kurou. "Long story." He puts a hand on his own chest. "Still your in-law. Ryoma. Put the gun down."

Brown eyes dart to his face. The revolver. Then finally to the ground as he sets the gun back in its holster.

William nods. Good man. That problem solved, he runs to Ember's side.

Okay. Everything has stopped. Now he can think.

He can think? says Shinsaku in his mind.

Ryoma clutches his head, takes a deep breath. No. Focus. The picture is as big as a flea on that horse's ass. It will have to do.

The...whatever he is told him he could be sent back. What's keeping that from happening? The person beside Glowy-Eye. There were words beforehand. Ryoma can't remember what they were. Barely noticed them at all through the choking fear.

Poor form. C'mon. Pull it together. That's what his friends would do if they were here. Rely on each other. Rise as one.

They're not here. But one of his relatives is.

Ryoma cautiously follows William, hands knit together. He leans over a console, stares at Ember. "Is he dead?" That can happen. Taka told him about patrons overindulging only to drop, hearts unable to take it.

This was his fault, wasn't it. Shit.

#ki-pulse #eclecticlysm #{realm communications: interactions}#{the dear doctor: ember}#{the displaced crow: kurou}

Kurou barely registers William talking. Realizes that the firearm is (temporarily) out of the picture if he’s now at Ember’s other side. Tense, he continues waiting, distantly noting Aden slinking into his usual corner under the desk. Good. One less thing to worry about.

In those tense seconds, Ember stirs, body shuddering and twitching as they claw towards consciousness. Kurou grimaces at the unsettling display, never growing used to it, but color is returning to their face and the imminent threat is over. His eye stops glowing, though he keeps note of where Sakamoto is nearby.

Is he dead? He nearly snorts at the question, knowing how stubborn Ember is, but they make a small noise, blinking as they slowly refocus on him. Dark eyes glance over at William, then their head snaps up, searching for where the newcomer is at. Satisfied at seeing him nearby and without the gun, they slump back into Kurou’s arms for a moment.

“Are you okay?” His voice is soft, and he adjusts his grip to allow them to move.

“Yes,” their response resolute, if quiet.

He hums, helps them sit upright, unwilling to push further. They continue leaning against him, tense under where his arm remains braced around their back, knees drawn towards their chest to stabilize their pose. As much as they would like to return to their chair and continue examining the readings that caught their eye, their body’s warnings are more than enough to keep them on the floor for now. Their fingers and lips are still slightly numb, irritatingly enough, and their head hurts. How the fuck did Percival ever think it was a “good nap?” They brush aside the thought, refocusing on the situation at hand.

“Well. I ought to remain here before I demonstrate that party trick again.” They ignore the flat look Kurou gives them, opting to readjust their glasses instead. “Have a seat, Sakamoto-san. The floor’s decently comfortable,” a gesture at the empty space in front of them. “Keep the gun put away, and I’ll answer what I can of your questions at this moment.”

{ working slowly on old asks and setting them in my queue, but one in particular is on hold bc i need to draw a picture to go with it. but unfortunately sploon has brought back my rsi problems :') so i will get that up when i can draw again. }

#{in the twilight: ooc}#{ i want to share it so bad it's GOOD angst. but the drawing will be necessary for maximum psychic damage }

He's free. That's a step in the right direction. But where is he going?

Ryoma staggers to his feet. The pain is finally fading and exhaustion is taking its place. It seems like he first boarded the Eridanus twelve hours ago when in reality it was less than one. Right? His drenched clothes are proof it happened. That he stood on deck, watched his city burn, and fell overboard when something massive slammed the ship from beneath. Something with gold crystals in its stomach.

It might've been a whale.

Focus. Big picture.

He remembers hitting the water. Debris from the ship splashed around him. Then there was a white light, and something drove into his back. There was a moment of incredible pressure...and then he arrived.

For the first time, Sakamoto takes a good look at the laboratory. He feels like he's in the back in the engine room, there's so much metal, but it's so...quiet. No rumbling or hissing or clanging. Doesn't smell like oil and steel. And it's so clean--

He doesn't notice William approaching until his fist collides with his jaw.

That was two hundred years coming.

Adams scowls as Ryoma reels, crying out and clutching his mouth. That's for her, he thinks. She who balked at calling him grandfather -- we look nothing alike, she said, he remembers, which was a very good and valid point -- yet as he drifted in and out of her life, would update him with news.

I don't know where she keeps forty cats, ojiisan. His cough is getting worse, ojiisan.

Ojiisan, she said, keeping her face as neutral as she could bear, he's leaving.

Broke her heart like a pane of glass. And if he'd known which ship Sakamoto took, he would've done the exact same thing. In front of the passengers, in front of the crew, in front of all Edo.

Some people had no choice but to go when the call came from across the sea. Some people did. Some people could be prevented from making mistakes.

He'd been too late.

Ryoma feels his chin, checking for loose teeth. Finding none, he lowers his hand. "All right," he says, "Enough."

William's memory is spotty. He forgot about the gun.

It's up and aimed at his face in the time it takes for him to grab his sword. Ryoma jerks the barrel at him, frowning. "I want answers," he barks, "Where am I? Who are you people?"

He won't shoot. It's a bluff. But Adams glances at Kurou and Ember. He's not fast enough to cut a bullet mid-flight.

#eclecticlysm #ki-pulse #{realm communications: interactions}#{the dear doctor: ember}#{the displaced crow: kurou}#{POTS attack go!!!}

It's quiet for a moment, and Kurou stands as Sakamoto does. Relief settles into his chest, and he opens his mouth to try and explain things as best he can.

A squawk comes out instead when he’s nearly shoved aside, not expecting the punch thrown at the displaced man. That won’t help anything. “Adams, what the hell?”

Ember pauses at the commotion, grumbling a plea for patience under their breath. At least the nosebleed stopped already, even if they can only smell iron past what little they can breathe in through the clots. They can't get answers if they keep getting torn away from their work. Swivels, opens their mouth to snap at everyone to sit down,

A gun. Why does he have a gun? The words in their throat strangle into a squeak. There's a gunman in their university once again, and they freeze at the notion of watching someone else die in front of them while they can do nothing about it. But he's demanding answers? Maybe, just maybe, there can be no bloodshed? Hope bubbles in them, protective and fragile.

Kurou hears the squeak, sees the sheer terror on Ember's face when he glances back. A spectral sword, pale blue and with feather-like engravings, appears in his hand, the blade at the sopping wet man's throat in an instant.

"Drop it. Then, we can talk." he snarls, right eye blazing enough to override the colored contact, bright blue leaking outward.

"Stop. All three of you. Please." Ember's voice is weak, Japanese shaking off their tongue as they fight past the phantom sensation of blood on their hands, stomach churning at the iron in their breath. "Stop." Firmer, this time. "All of you, stop it!" They're still pale, still weak, but force themself upright, ignoring the wave of dizziness following afterwards. Their face settles into a determined line, gaze razor-sharp despite their pallor.

"Adams, back off before I make you. Kurou, darling, you can also back up. And Sakamoto-san." They look him in the eyes as best they can from behind the other two, ignoring that their fingers are going numb and vision tunneling. "Please, please, put the damned gun down. I can answer your questions, just don't shoot anyone, please." Above all, they hope he listens, that he isn't so panicked as to shut out everything.

They know they're ready to pass out, and adding that to the kindling in the room? They will themself to stay upright, but their knee buckles and they cannot properly recover, limbs no longer truly responding, chest heaving, lips tingling and ears ringing. Shit.

Kurou is at their side the moment he realizes the issue, swearing as he's forced to take on part of their weight while their legs fail. Then they're entirely limp, to his extreme alarm, dead weight, head lolling forward as he's forced to sink to the floor while someone has a fucking gun out in front of them,

"Ember? Ember, come on, wake up," and he carefully cradles their head to his chest, curling in a way to keep them hidden by his body. He knows they'll be up again in a few seconds, if disoriented and groggy, but those few seconds stretch on and his heart feels ready to hammer out of his chest.

"The hell is a Crucible!?" That's not what he'd call it. Death incarnate, perhaps. The day the sun was replaced by a cancer.

Forget the pain still pulsing in his body. The thick lump of his heart wedged in his throat is worse. It's all Ryoma can do to keep breathing, palms pressed against the shield. The rat extinguishes itself. Its fur smoulders.

Adams, for whatever reason, doesn't seem to be an ally. Sakamoto turns his attention to Kurou instead. Doesn't trust his shaky English to speak to the person beside him when he himself feels like crumbling. "Please," he pleads, "Send me back! My friends are there! My wife! I need to help them!"

William scoffs, rises to his feet. Now you call her your wife, he thinks, padding across the laboratory floor. Less screaming, more explaining.

"My memory comes and goes," he admits, voice low, "But the day this dumb fuck left Japan was normal." Standing on a dagger's edge of political chaos, yes, certainly no all-out war. He sighs and folds his arms. "Kurou. Doctor. I knew Ryoma all those years ago. He wouldn't fly to pieces without very good reason. I'm inclined to think something did happen, but you're right. It was not a Crucible."

#eclecticlysm #ki-pulse #{realm communications: interactions}#{the dear doctor: ember}#{the displaced crow: kurou}

“I see…” Ember glances over at Sakamoto, then at the monitors, noting that the model generation is only about a tenth of the way complete. Something is off about the data being fed into the model, even when they’re only skimming it from the corner of their eye. Though, attempting to evaluate the data while holding such a shield… They grimace, glancing at William, then Sakamoto again.

Kurou glances down when a hand is set on his arm, leans to hear what the doctor has for him. Sighs when they murmur something to him before returning to the workstation. Only then does he return his attention to the panicked man on the ground.

He walks over and kneels before Sakamoto, positioned between him and Ember. “I’m sorry, we will return you home as soon as possible. However, I need you to remain calm, sir.” He is not above forcibly subduing anyone who poses a threat, but he does genuinely hope to be able to calm down the poor man. Gods knows his own experience with being dumped into a separate time was traumatic enough. “I…” a heavy sigh, “I know it’s a lot to ask, but please, trust me when I say that panicking will not help right now. We genuinely do want to help.”

The brass sheen vanishes, and Ember relaxes slightly, headache abating for now. They begin looking at the data properly now, noting that… something is off… just what realm brushed against theirs? Telluric? So a fold in the Realm? But… Brows furrow, glasses readjusted as they begin picking through something suggesting a mess they are deeply uninterested in picking apart in the current situation, even if a giddy excitement climbs their throat.

The ache slowly recedes from Ryoma's bones enough to let him sit up, grunting with the effort. Pain remains a solid weight across his entire body and a ringing in his ears. And by the look on William's face as he draws close and kneels before the shield, the immortal would like nothing more than to make it worse.

"Sakamoto," Adams sneers, "Why are you here?"

Why is he here? Stop, stop, Ryoma thinks, Let me catch up! Something wrong happened, something so fast it bordered on impossible it happened at all, but he's here, wherever here is, so it must have... Gods, everything hurts... He rubs his eyes as if he could massage the throbbing away.

The rat drops out of his hair and climbs onto his shoulder.

Okay. Okay. At times like these, look at the big picture. What led to this situation?

"I was leaving," Ryoma finally says. William's scowl deepens. "I was packed, I had all my belongings on board. The ship..." Fingers draw circles in the air. Words, words, what are the words? He settles for pulling an imaginary chain and uttering a low haaaawn. "And we set sail. I was on deck, looking back at Edo..."

...and the world broke open. Half the city collapsed into deep gouges in the earth, the other half skewered on black spikes rising like hog hair. One million screams tore across the writhing bay as fires raged and smoke billowed. He could only stare as above it all, an emperor of devastation--

"There was a red light in the sky."

The horse is back and this time it kicks Sakamoto in the heart. Horror flings him against the shield, eyes wide, fists pounding. The rat arches its back to pounce and bursts into a white-hot flame.

"Hiroe!" he shouts -- gods, please, she has to be here too-- "HIROE!"

William recoils away, pulse lodged in his throat. He's never seen Ryoma like this. The man appeared unshakeable, an admirable trait until it wasn't.

This is new, dragging chains of the past on his tongue.

He knows exactly what Sakamoto means.

A mass of corpses in the clouds. Skeletal hands reaching for the ground. Yokai poured from it, smashing down in a rain of demons. Edo went up in blazes shortly after, choking the air with acrid ash. William had only seen destruction of that scale in the middle of a war, fueled by the rage of unburied soldiers and blackest magic.

There's just one, big problem.

That happened two hundred years before Ryoma was born.

Sakamoto's going to hurt himself if he keeps up. Or worse, hurt Ember.

"Hey!" William hates raising his voice, but it gets the job done. The ronin stills, face pale, huffing for breath. That was new for him. "I was there! There was no red light in the sky!"

#eclecticlysm #ki-pulse #{the dear doctor: ember}#{the displaced crow: kurou}#{realm communications: interactions}

Sakamoto? The name rings as vaguely familiar to both Ember and Kurou. The former brushes it aside to focus on clearing the last of the interference, beginning to plug in parameters for a simulation model. The glare of bluelight screens only exacerbates their growing headache, yet they press on and check over the equations being used. Finally, they’re able to begin generating the model, leaning back slightly as CPU fans whirr to life, a familiar piece of noise against thee stranger’s voice.

Kurou watches the two closely, frowns when a scowl settles onto William’s face. An old grudge? And… a red light in the sky?

He remembers a frozen wasteland covering the region he had called home for most of his prior life. So much death, all for what? To prove his brother’s strength via manufactured heroics. But… records, history the Hayabusa and Oboro were willing to let him look through, show that the last time that disaster occurred was in the 1600s, before the West had pounded on Japan’s door with cannons and rifles.

The little rat bursts into flames, and Sakamoto attempts to breach the shield. A sharp, pained cough to his side, and he spots Ember quickly reaching up to pinch their nose shut. His attempt to order the other to calm down is interrupted by a snap from William, and it seems to work, for now.

“Jikogu… that has not descended since the beginning of the Edo era…” He starts, slowly, distracted by keeping an eye on his darling. “But…”

“Ryoma,” Ember cuts in, voice nasally and strained. They turn in their chair, face pale and only highlighting the speckled bruising beginning to form under their eyes. “Sakamoto Ryoma, from the end of the Edo era. There are no records of a Crucible from that time period.”

Adams nods. He's okay. Completely fine. Not holding together something in him coming apart at the seams screaming if he can come back, then what's stopping--

Bonk.

Ryoma's head connecting with the top of the shield sounds like a thud on glass. The ronin groans, clutches the back of his skull. Eyes widen, and he pats his hair, looking for a hat that isn't there. His face falls in dismay.

William lets a long breath loose. "Doctor," he says, "Let him go."

#eclecticlysm #ki-pulse #{the displaced crow: kurou}#{realm communications: interactions}#{the dear doctor: ember}#{and then there were four...}

They don’t even glance back. “Not until I confirm that him moving won’t cause issues.”

Dark eyes focus on the screens, fingers moving as they read through the data of the last few minutes. Clearing away interference from their own magic and the ki of two shiftlings and a fae isn’t too hard, but it will take some time. Then, they can run models, get a better idea of which Realms just intersected, see if this will ripple outward or not. A long sigh, and they begin typing in the needed filters.

“I’ll have a preliminary answer soon,” they say after a long minute, tone slightly softer than before.

Kurou sighs, an apologetic smile on his lips when he refocuses on the stranger. Watches the brass shimmer when he bumps the back of his head on the unusually strong shield. Notes idly that Aden has slipped into his shadow now, leaving Ember to their own devices. “I assure you that this is nothing personal. However, I would like to know who you are, sir,” and why he knows William.

“Actually…” Ember speaks suddenly, “Ibuki, can you close up the lab for the day? Kurou and I can handle this.”

The other doctor sighs, nodding. There was no arguing with them when they’ve slipped into crisis management mode. She sets about with cleaning things up, tactfully ignoring the two men in the center of the room. She had also noted the rat spirit, but honestly? She had better things to worry about.

“Keep an eye on Will, please,” she murmurs to Kurou as she moves to the door. “Don’t let them burn themself out again for our sake.”

“Of course.” He glances over at them, noting the petechiae forming under their eyes. “We’ll handle this.” He just hoped nothing stupid would occur. William carrying his sword into the lab was already leaving Ember on-edge as it was.

-- @hemoproteins-au, guest starring @ki-pulse

Sakamoto Ryoma has been kicked by a horse before. It'd been a warning shot, a reminder the big, black beast could cave in his ribs if he got any closer. It tagged him in the hip instead, leaving him with a massive bruise that lasted two weeks, a limp, and intense gratitude to the good chunk of the eight million gods watching out for him that day it hadn't hit him a few inches to the left.

This feels like a full body horse kick. His head is a dead weight behind his aching teeth. The floor swims against his cheek. He pants for air, sopping wet clothes squelching as he wrenches himself to hands and knees. When the world feels solid, he opens his eyes.

He doesn't have words to describe what he sees. Lots of metal. Little flickering lights, but no fire. People in white coats. They're staring at him.

One of them he recognizes. He'd know those blue eyes anywhere.

Sakamoto tries to stand, winces, settles for raising his head. "William?"

Ryoma?

A thousand warning bells go off in Adams' mind. There's various reasons. They're in the lab, first and foremost. The science of it is in the stratosphere over his head, but he gets the gist of it. There are more worlds than these. Yeah. Could've told 'em that. And spiking energy levels are something he can grasp.

Secondly, the scent permeating from the new arrival is familiar and unmistakable. Seawater.

Thirdly, that is one of his goddamn in-laws. From almost two hundred years ago.

The sword at his belt is a Senji katana, capable of cutting yokai to shreds. It clicks flush to its sheath when he takes his thumb off its guard.

There are people in this lab who know what just happened. Right? Frowning, William turns to one of them and hopes his heart rate doesn't show on his face.

#eclecticlysm #ki-pulse #{realm communications: interactions}#{the dear doctor: ember}#{the displaced crow: kurou}#{we're gonna make this work somehow LMAO}

The readings are awkward, then explode, red across the board. A mad scramble occurs around them as they watch the rift nexus coalesce; Aden squirms within his host’s shadow. The hair on the back of their neck stands up, and Kurou is turning beside them, eyes locked onto the open floor between the two main benches of the lab.

The scent of seawater, the energy levels spiking enough for them to physically feel it, and Ember instinctively throws a shield up around where reality warps, another realm brushing into the Telluric Realm, and someone appears there within the shimmering, translucent dome of brass. The newcomer is face-down and confused, clothing well-worn, traditional Japanese but with more Western touches… a rōnin? And… this one knows William? Oh hell’s bells—

Kurou stares blankly from his spot beside Ember. This one… is human, though he spots a little rat spirit peeking out of the stranger’s bushy mess of a ponytail. He relaxes slightly, then meets William’s eyes from across the room. Horror sits in those icy eyes, begging for an explanation. He clears his throat.

“Ember, what happened…?”

They jolt, running through the events in their head, through what data they had spotted before needing to prioritize their team’s safety above all else. A frown, and they look up.

“I am… not sure…” they respond hesitantly. A sharp turn back to the monitors, which now show the energy dispersing steadily, and they drop into a chair. “But… give me some time. I need to make sure this isn’t just a symptom of something larger.” That this isn’t a repeat event, that more people aren’t about to be hurt,

A hand lands on their shoulder, squeezes. Kurou nods and turns back to the stranger and William. Notes that the shield is still in place and likely won’t be removed until his darling has a better idea of what the last couple of minutes were. He looks back at William, tilts his head. Are you okay? He hasn’t seen the other so pale before.

moosemuses

"Doing what's right is far from easy most of the time..." Like killing your former best friend to stop him from destroying Japan. Well, that turned out well. Hide touches his chest where his own dagger struck him at the time. "But sometimes we must." He makes a slight face. Now he sounded old.

He watches the dogs move about; the easy joy that comes with such animals. Ryoma would have liked them. At the question, he tenses up slightly. Obviously, Kurou knows about the Spirit stones. But Hide's 'clan' at the lack of a better word, was still a mostly secret one.

"We have found... Spirit stones in America. While the situation is in hand there for now... tracking their source has brought me back here." Yatagarasu ruffles its feathers, sharing Hide's concern and irritation over how the Spirit stones were set loose to start with. Again.

"I aim to stop the source, naturally."

#{the displaced crow: kurou}#{realm communications: interactions}#moosemuses #{cameo from ember for a bit bc these two are a set lol}

A solemn nod. Hard choices have defined most of his life. He understands. (He also understands feeling old, but ah well.) The next words give him pause.

Spirit stones? Again? Damn it all… He sighs, petting Dash as she settles fully into his lap.

“I understand. We’ve been keeping an eye on the spirit stones found in this region, but the exact details aren’t something I have on-hand. I can work with Ember and see what we can dig up to aid you, if you’d like.”

The front door opens at that point. Speak of the devil. A voice calls out after a jingle of keys and a leash. “Incoming!”

Kurou braces himself as Pinch comes skittering into the room and launches at him in excitement. Dash and Smidgen end up as unfortunate landing pads for the smallest of the three dogs, and he finds himself occupied with breaking up the three as Dash vocally protests being jumped on.

Ember comes around the corner and leans on the wall, allowing their darling to deal with the squabbling furballs. Dark eyes lock onto Hide, tactfully ignoring the bird on his shoulder.

“Mind stayin’ for dinner? Won’t be any trouble for us to host you, and I got a feeling you need one’a us for something.” English flows off their tongue, a US accent coloring their words.

A slab of granite twice as tall as William bursts from the rock, standing like a domino for a second before falling over with a crash and cloud of dust. Stone shattering echoes like gunshots through the cavern as more erupt from the shadows. Adams turns toward each sound, hissing as air streams past his mandibles.

The earth tremors; he almost drops to a knee. With a screech of metal and rumble of shifting stones, a massive dump truck falls into the hole opening beneath it. Pebbles and grit rain from the ceiling. Cracks rip up the walls.

For several seconds, all is still.

Insectoid legs and amrita clusters burst from the slabs. William extends the whip as they charge, but they pass him by. They swarm into the pit, their steps crunching in perfect time.

The dump truck rises from the hole, the skull on a granite spinal column. Amrita eyes glower from between the cab and the raised bed. Its engine roars to life, a dragon's bellow of territorial anger.

William's eyes narrow, claw flexing, tail lifting for balance. He glances at Kurou, sizes him up. A window could take out the bird. Tokyo itself is in danger if the beast escapes the quarry.

Plans thus changed, he runs at the giant centipede as it exhales a black, ash hot plume of diesel exhaust.