[RYSLIG] IC Inbox

[beatemall]

< BadMachine2004 > — normal handle
< KidArachnid > — used for hero work
< Sunflower > — anonymous posting

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[beatemall]

[The beach.

Miles hasn't been near it, since coming to Ryslig. But Shoyo's a water monster, isn't he? Or at least, that's what the guide said about kelpies. Maybe he wouldn't hate what he is so much if he had something to feel tied to, something that appealed to a more base instinct in him. Still, Miles' memories of the ocean are filled with hazy images of Brighton beach—the smell of salt and fish and too much sunscreen—and suddenly he's pulling on his shoes without even thinking about it.

Not just the beach but the opportunity to see someone who, without a doubt, will help shoo away the clouds overcoming his heart.]

ill need to take the bus
wait for me

[And then he's off, first just skulking out of A tower with his hoodie pulled over his head, and then breaking into a half-sprint to the nearest stop. It's as if the farther he gets from his phylactery, the lighter he feels—ironic, considering the watch is so distinctly 'Hobie', while he's feeling so desperately homesick.

The bus ride takes a good half hour, and stops just between the Bavan's line to Merain to let him off. Miles isn't dressed for the beach by any means, and the weather isn't necessarily the nicest but, at least the growing cold bothers a corpse less. Standing at the head of the beach, Miles scans the horizon for a familiar shock of orange and green, and when he finds it, he sets off near sprinting in Shoyo's direction.]

H- Hey, Shoyo! [Miles stumbles partway in the sand, but catches himself just before tumbling into his friend,] didn't keep you waiting too long... did I?

[jumpie]

[ with that message, sending one last ok, the kelpie quickly fumbles around to fix his little hangout space the same way he would tidy his room up with the urgency of those times back home, where he’d be told for the third time that weekend to clean before he went to practice by someone he no longer remembers. shoyo spreads his folded seating towel into a space for two, leaving objects such as a massive galon-water bottle, his backpack, laptop and hoofboots on each corner to keep them grounded from the ocean winds. he’s got shorts and a hoodie on himself (which isn’t really differentiating in his own colors but just as eyecatching); he’s not that chilly around the legs, thankfully, all thanks to either the fur on them or a horse’s endurance when it came to the seasons.

shoyo almost always hears things before seeing them. it’s not any different especially with how vast the beach is, unsure where miles would pop out from, so alert to every gargle of engines in the distance. he’d wait much like a dog and even droop his ears when a bus or car hadn’t harbored his friend, but when it did, when he came running, just as the evening sun makes the sky a pink-purple—

shoyo waves his arms high over his head, giving one hop, two before his legs charge into a run as well. if miles was close to falling forward, he won’t be anymore. not when shoyo chest slams into the lich, with his back and neck being encircled in a big, tight hug— loses footing, and falls.

it’s only after shoyo replies that his sharp inhale for it gives way: that he’s crying. ]

Yu-huh, [ exaggerated, like a joke, because he’s trying to joke even if he’s getting all soggy and gross as he smacks his hands over the other’s shoulders. ] like, weeks, man— [ too long. he might’ve not even had seen him, ever again. shoyo makes to pull back, not entirely disengaging his arms, kind of helping in lifting the poor boy back up from his storm of a greeting, but enough to take the steps to, biting his lips so that maybe it’d stop more streams from staining his green freckles. it never does, for the record. ]

B-but that’s none of our faults, justsoyouknow, I’m just—!

[ he missed him, and worried about him— he’d even saved him a slice of pizza from the fourth’s domain, but he’d gotten so hungry at the end that . . . he had to eat it. shoyo sniffs and snorts away whatever mucus is making his voice all nasally, before adding with a dribbling crack in his voice: ]

Glad.

[beatemall]

[Being tackled to the ground by a sobbing, sniffling Shoyo should've been expected, but he still isn't prepared for it. Shoyo's athletic, full of energy—the exact opposite of Miles—and in that excitement of reuniting again after weeks, all of his foalish weight is thrown around in pure earnestness. They fall down in a tangle of limbs and a flurry of damp, late-autumn sand...

And it's the best feeling ever. To have that weight against him, something solid and heavy and real in a way that makes him feel a little bit less like a ghost. Shoyo's eagerness has always lightened his moods, but now it fills his chest with sunshine—sets his stomach aflutter. Miles can't help the smile that pulls across his face even if there's snot and tears staining the front of his hoodie. He can't help but laugh and let Shoyo pull him back up (which isn't hard, considering how light he feels), his own limbs an uncoordinated jumble that doesn't yet desire to disentangle.

Instead, Miles' free-floating hands come up to cup Shoyo's cheeks—much in the way his own mother would always cup his in moments of reassurance—and he swipes a thumb across one of those dark-staining tear streaks.]

I missed you, too, Shoyo!

[And it's true—he did. This sort of buoying energy was sorely needed after the darkness Miles enshrouded himself in for weeks. He'd been so preoccupied with what he was missing from home, that he forgot to appreciate what he had here.]

I... You know, when I get into a mood it's different now. Like something in my core won't let it go until I go through all the motions. Lich obsession, or whatever. [He tries to explain, though he barely knows much about it himself—just how it feels in the moment.] I should've said something sooner, I'm sorry for worrying you.

[jumpie]

[ suddenly his face is encircled. miles' floating, disengaged hands are cold against shoyo's face, like being outside in the snow for too long, and how your nose and ears would freeze and feel so sharp against something so warm. clammy, maybe, but shoyo was warm like the summer.

and damn doesn't that all just make him cry harder. miles has rid them of a single teardrop but gets blipped with two to four more streams. the kelpie's hands grip the other boy's arms from the sides, and with it— he is trying so much harder to set his lips straight enough to talk. ]

I-It's sho fine, I, I lost my laptop, in the earthquakes, so I, I— I couldn't find everyone, and after I— [ he couldn't talk to anyone he wasn't seeing face to face, or through max's radio, and even then there had been a few days of silence on his end when the water had run out for him for nearly three days. ] M-Making me, cry, cry, more—

[ because he was just— so sweet, gestures so comforting, things that shoyo misses and craves from others that he doesn't always recieve, because they were all so different and that's okay, but this? it makes him dive into miles' chest again, with his arms tight around his back, on his knees and in the stand, a knotted mess into miles, but.

it's the kind of mess that feels under control. there's no panic after all, nothing painful— shoyo's just an emotional guy, prone to cry because of a bench, or a loss, or being taller than someone . . . this has and deserves a lot of extra heart in the middle. ]

You're gonna, get all s-sandy.

[ it doesn't look like he's doing anything to remedy that. because that would require withdrawing. he can still feel palms on his cheeks, even when they're not there anymore. god damn it.

his stomach is so fluttery, the hiccups make it worse. ]

[beatemall]

[Somehow, seeing Shoyo cry is almost a relief. Like some sort of weird, vicarious catharsis, Miles' feels the emotional weight that floods his own chest, that weighs his own shoulders, lift. The nosedive back into his chest will surely leave the front of his hoodie soaking wet, but he can't quite find it in him to care about that.

Instead, as if countering Shoyo's sobbing, Miles wraps his arms all the tighter around his friend and laughs—deep, and full of unbridled cheer. Between this and petting animals at the shelter with Robin, how could he stay upset? Just as uncle Aaron promised, even in Ryslig, he still manages to find his way.]

I wouldn't have come to the beach if I was gonna get all twisted about sand, [Miles chides, although he does worry marginally about the idea of it getting, well, inside of his chest cavity. His exposed organs are just tacky enough to make cleaning it out near-impossible.] I'll worry about the mess later, I'm sure my stupid lich brain will get some sort of sick enjoyment out of the clean up.

[As Shoyo's sobs sputter to shallow breaths and hiccups, Miles will again try to wipe away his tears.]

How long have you been out here, dude? Don't you get cold at all?

[jumpie]

[ when miles interrupts the flow of tears, he’ll find hot, deepened hued cheeks he’s wiping drier and staying that way. the bulk of shoyo’s sobbing has come to simmering halt that only shivers his shoulders up and down, or gives him quiet gasps for hiccups as he readjusts to better calm. if anything, the kelpie let’s put a wet little breath of the start of a laugh. rather than the sad, contorted crunch his brows would make when he cries, they have become slightly more slanted to tighten up the waterworks. the only thing that wards away an angry look is his smile, and a insistent nodding that pries shoyo away only for him to take miles by the elbows, rise and pull him to his own feet. ]

Not— not when I’m moving around, that much, but, I’ve been ‘ere since a little after lunch, uh— here, c’mere, [ he motions and guides in a soft and eager way. he only lacks his explosive excitement because he’s trying to actively cam down and recover. miles is here. so— he’s going to take advantage of the present, and treat it like the last. ] I-I have a towel, we can sit on.

[ the sky is getting a little more pale purple, less yellows and oranges. if you look hard enough, the night’s first star might start blinking. ]

the worms demand boys, as a treat

[beatemall]

[Though Miles knows them to be good sobs, he's still relieved when they slow—and he makes a mental note to make sure to keep Shoyo in the loop, for both of their sake, the next time some real chaos goes down. His hands will continue to follow, cupping Shoyo's cheeks until he pulls back just enough to be considered the current maximum range they can have, and only then will they slip away from those algae-bloom cheeks.]

Yeah, figures... Did you have this much energy before becoming a pony, too?

[He's curious if this is just natural for Shoyo, or if maybe being such a high-energy animal, his need to constantly run around developed. Maybe it was just a bit of luck—the train of thought Miles assumes most plausible—and Shoyo just managed to land a monster type that fit him so well.

The question is also a bit for the sake of filling the air between them. There's a noticeable flutter in Miles' belly still, caught somewhere between guilty for worrying Shoyo so much, and happy to not be alone or feel like no one would care if he disappeared. Rather, it's plainly the opposite, when he looks down at the neatly splayed blanket (or, as neat as it can be with wind-turned sand dusting it). No doubt he'd brought the blanket for himself, but it's been transformed into the perfect little space for two. It makes him feel oddly... Special.]

All this for little old me? We're just missing some tunes and some burgers, [Miles chuckles as he folds forward and maneuvers on his hands and knees, until he's half-turned towards Shoyo, and half-turned towards the painted sunset. The sounds of the crashing waves coalesce with the howling wind, and though sand is being whipped up against his autumn-chilled skin, it's just so... Peaceful.] You know...

It's been a really long time since I went to the beach... I stopped going when I was a kid and, man, I was never the strongest swimmer but I loved it. Would've been nice to go one last time with my family.

worms have given blessing

[jumpie]

[ miles will be happy to know that there is only one answer to that. with a heavy snort and the need to make the bottom of his nose feel as dried as his cheeks do, he adds, casually and with the growth of a smile: uh-huh. just built this way. always been energetic, always been active— kelpie just so happened to match. and now that they sit, in shoyo’s case, rump to the towel first and legs out comfortably in the sand, now he could feel this just—

elated, floating feeling from the gut and only rising. his face was a little raw, but it made smiling feel crisp and fortunate to still be sitting here, with miles. he didn’t have tunes, or burgers . . . but a hand into his bag would reveal the toss of a cylinder between them filled with dried, smoked salmon strips. now, these aren’t juicy and tender, but they’re flavorful, and a pretty good stand alone snack. popping the lid off that? i gotchu bro. ]

Brooklyn’s close to the beach, isn’t it? [ if his memory for geography didn’t fail him now, that particular state was surrounded by water. when miles says family, all he could think about . . . was only one person. there was something missing when he came back to it. his sister wasn’t his only family and yet— that’s all he could remember.

it makes the corners of his lips twitch down, tensely, but he manages to keep his smile tender. ] My district’s an hour and something away from it? But I’d go as a kid, too. With my sister.

[ he didn’t have a father growing up. he’s forgotten his mother. natsu was all he had. ]

What’s your family like?

the blessing is pain

[beatemall]

Yeah, not where I lived, but... We could get on the subway pretty easily and get there.

[Which is to say, he and Shoyo's experiences with getting to the beach might've actually been pretty similar. The subways might've been a little faster than Japan's trains just by distance alone, but the feeling of a packed car, surrounded by strangers, as the giddiness of heading to the beach overcomes you... That feeling is probably still the same.]

You got a little sister? [Miles says, head turning to look at Shoyo fully.] I cannot imagine you as a big bro, dude.

[He laughs, the sound swallowed by the ocean winds and crashing waves, and as the sound of it trails off with his breath, he looks back towards the horizon again. He pictures his family in his mind's eye—warm and smiling—and feels his chest tighten with a sensation of loneliness that's become so intimately familiar to him.]

My family... I'm an only child. My mami's a nurse, and my dad's a cop. He's actually captain, but... [Miles trails, just as he's reminded of the danger his father is currently in. It's been months, now. Has Spot succeeded in killing his dad? Or is time still moving slowly there?] I have an uncle too, or had. He passed away... But I have another uncle, kinda like a mentor I guess? He's got a kid. Mayday. She's hella cute.

And my community- they're my family too.

[Miles' gaze drops from the horizon, to his lap, and then slowly side-eyes until the splotchiness of Shoyo's knee is in his periphery.]

What's your family like, Shoyo?

oh i felt that

[jumpie]

[ can't. imagine. big bro? as miles laughs, shoyo returns the comedic favor with rapid fire blinking and wide eyes. what's that supposed to mean he murmurs, gobbled up by sounds he's content with allowing the sea to take, but not without the lich boy's elbow getting knocked. miles beginning to speak of his family as shoyo settles back into his towel takes the spotlight, and, while it's bittersweet— it sounds nice. a mother, a father, and extended family. what was his family like? shoyo tries to pedal through memory, but . . . the more he does, the more his quirking lips seem to fall flat. ]

. . . Natsu, she's ten, and, [ there was someone there, but— he'd always come up blank. it felt like a blur. a tangent thing just within his reach, right at the tip of his tongue, but. he'd never see it. the building silence goes on long enough before shoyo has to busy his hands with a fistfull of sand, letting the grains slip between his fingers and pour into a small pile between his legs. ] I don't know.

cw: sacrifice mention, memloss

[beatemall]

[The feeling very quickly shifts, like atmospheric pressure before a thunderstorm. One second Shoyo is elbowing him in the side, and the next Miles can feel the electricity in the air, palpable and prickling at his skin. Like stuttering to a halt, his smile drops, his own shoulders tense, and Miles meets the profile of his friend as those brown eyes gaze long and hard into the sand as if it would tell him what he's searching for.

He gets it.

Ever since he succumbed to those vines, Miles hasn't been able to remember how Aaron died. He knows he lost his uncle, he remembers the mural he and his father threw up together—but everything else is a blur, and not even a decent one. It's smudged like someone lost interest halfway through erasing something. It's blatant, the way his mind fogs up when he thinks about it too hard. And it's horrifying. Fuck, is it horrifying.

Are they already losing pieces of themselves, here?]

Tell me more about Natsu, [Miles urges, reaches out with his hand before he can even think about it, and sets it on Shoyo's knee imploringly. He wants to keep Shoyo here, grounded, with him. Not wandering through a forgotten wood.] What's she like?

cw: memloss

[jumpie]

[ it was getting darker. the sky was more a deepening purple and losing the lighter pinks that only edged the farthest from where the sun sets. it would've felt a little darker too, colder, he was feeling it creep up his hooves and into his chest the more his lost eyes wandered the sand. it's weight, a hand, cold as a corpse was undeniably warm in intention that his skin jolts. he jolts from going down that path, brings his attention to cool, pleading eyes and—

he's here. if there was something worth thinking about, it's what he still had rather than not. (it's not completely dark, either. shoyo supplies his own supple glow of glowstick-greens and kindling oranges where his tendrils rest.) ]

First in everything in P.E. [ a jock in the making, just ready to blossom and follow her brother. he kind of— gestures offhandedly at his hair, at his face before he uses his palm to rub the sting in his eyes away. they're the same striking orange, the same spice. ] She's tough, and wants to try everything— like, she isn't afraid to. I might've even gotten her into volleyball. [ he doesn't complain about that— it was cute, the way she'd try her hand at the softer, lighter ball for beginners. the way he'd encourage her, but also tease her when she'd fall— but only because that sort of confidence to be good at something just because you're good at everything could be dangerous. ] She keeps . . . Wanting to do what I do.

[ did he look cool, doing his drills in the backyard? he obviously acted like it, in front of her, because maybe that's just what big brothers do— but now that they're apart? damn, he hopes he was cool enough. his lips are spreading, not frowning. he misses her. he doesn't want to forget her like he did the others. ]

And she's got this, big, big smile that looks like the sun, [ peeking out and recovering, his own seems to spread, wide and soft across his face, and warm from the green glow of his cheeks. ] y'know?

cw: small suicide mention but not Miles' or the event stuff

[beatemall]

[As the sun sets over them, Shoyo's luminescence catches against Miles' dull tone, highlighting the gauntness of his cheeks, the sallow depth of his eyesockets. But his own eyes glow, ghostly pale and unblinking and fixed wholly on his friend who he's trying desperately to bring back to this moment in the best way he knows how.

How many times did he do this, for civilians who were stuck atop collapsing bridges, runaway subway cars or just trying to talk them out of leaping from a building? Sometimes it's not about swooping in and catching someone physically—sometimes you have to meet them on the human level, get control of the situation by talking them down first. Whether it's a hand on a shoulder or on a glowstick-green knee, Miles eases into the role like a comfortable, worn shoe.

And when Shoyo's smile broadens at pleasant memories, Miles' follows. The recesses of his mouth emit a subtle ghostly flame, and beneath his sweatshirt, the glow continues through the hole in his chest—but right now, he feels the most human he has in awhile.]

Yeah, I get it... [Miles answers, voice soft, admiring. It's the first thing he thought, when he met this guy. All stars shine so bright.] It runs in the family, I think.

[Miles' touch shifts and he pulls his hand away, now that Shoyo's grounded in the moment again.]

I was joking, by the way. About you bein' a big brother. I can see it... You love her a lot, huh? Sounds like she loves you a lot, too, man.

[jumpie]

[ runs in the familymdash;? before he could catch it, shoyo's cheeks feel heated and his smile goes lopsided— it's not like he looks any greener, not when he's glowing, but. maybe he does. maybe the space between his cheeks and nose briefly bridge into one silly green blotch. miles just called him the sun, man. the inside of his chest gives a little kick, and he only really realizes how big of a skip it was when miles' hand returns to where he sits. to think with everything that happened here so far, he still shines.

it was nice to know, even if he felt a bit cloudy sometimes. it made his sweater sleeves and cupped torso feel warmer in the middle of the chilly breeze they sat in. ]

—I do. [ he loves her, and he should make that a strength. he has to see her again, somehow. somewhere— he'd never wish her presence here, but sometimes . . . he wished he could just look through a mirror and see her for a bit, since he can't just leave if that really were the case. perhaps . . . no, he already knew. he just needed to see it again. ] Thanks, for— Reminding me. Thank you.

[ sherlock. jon. max. basil. miles— ]

—That I'm not alone.

[beatemall]

We need reminders, I think. [That they may be changing, that they may be forgetting pieces of themselves but...There's still more to them. It's said as much for Shoyo as it is for himself.] This place will change us, but we're still ourselves. And we got our families in our hearts.

[His uncle, his mami, his dad—no matter what, he won't let Ryslig take his love for them. And he won't ever let this place make him forget how much they love him, too.

But Shoyo's right. This place is easier with people who make it feel a little less lonely. Miles doesn't know how much worse he would've gotten if it hadn't been for Robin and Shoyo reaching out to him. How much longer would he have spiraled? Would he have gone until hunger overcame him, until he was driven to attack people like he had in those endless hallways?

It scares him—but worse than that, is the thought that despite the love he has in his heart for his family and friends, he'll still go against everything he stands for as a hero.]

I'm gonna do my best to protect you, Shoyo. If you're ever feeling scared, or lonely... You let me know, alright? I'll come flying to wherever you're at, and... [Miles eyes Shoyo from his periphery,] will you do the same for me, too?

[jumpie]

[ shoyo was no hero, but . . . he'd count himself as a good friend. and as a friend, he'd do just about anything to back them up. it's when miles asks that shoyo can't help but to snort (more half a chortle) with a bearing smile. ]

You don't even have to ask, dude. [ he can still hear it in his dreams, some days. when he's awake. if something cracks and it reminds him of the sound: hooves into bones, breaking open a rotting cavity and— he swallows before his mind could bring home the splatter. it's a moment thing. he knows he wouldn't think twice anymore if it was miles who needed him, and he'd have to race or kick again. the way ochako had planted an act of selflessness into the forefront of his thoughts and inspired it to bloom when things got bad, when he stood up to the hugeass rat from within a hidden pit to keep a mom and kid safe, one he was walking around with as things had gone from bad to worse— maybe he was capable. he'd do anything. he doesn't fade into the backrooms again because of it. breathe in, breathe out (take it easy). now it's his hand that finds the other's shoulder to give a clap to, settling with his fingers squeezing the curvature. ] 'Course I will.

[ once his hand retreats, it's to haul his bag over, to eventually unzip and rummage through. ]

I'm not, like . . . A superhero [ like ochako ], or a ninja-pirate, or a pirate [ like fucking monkey d luffy, who he met ], but I'm your friend. And a Kelpie.

[ he's "from the concrete", like ushijima had once implied, but that didn't mean he couldn't grow. that didn't mean he couldn't be self sufficient, and through the worst of it— he is growing. ]

[beatemall]

[Miles softens a bit more, his shoulders slumping, his own hands finding a way into the sand in front of him and between his outstretched legs. He should've taken his jordans off before this but, he can stand to wait a few moments.]

Anyone can be a hero, [he insists, as he draws shapes in the surface of the sand that blow away nearly instantly.] Someone once told me that- being a hero, it's a state of mind, a decision.

[He didn't choose the hero life, but he surely would've fallen into it some way or another with his parents' influence. But more than than a nurse, or a cop, or an actual super-powered being, Miles knows that the hero he needs right now—the one that messaged him to check in, to make sure he was okay, who hugged him so hard they fell into the sand in a mess of limbs—that's what Shoyo is.]

...A good friend is the best kind of hero a guy can be... Even if that guy is also a horse. [He adds with a smile coloring his words warmly, before turning and facing Shoyo fully.] Hey...

Can I tell you something, man?

[jumpie]

[ a state of mind— you were my hero. is that what that means? even shoyo felt just a little too humble to accept something so big like that as if pouncing on a wagon, but, it did make his chest tickle and warm up. he's only ever grown up with heroes being super. just as shoyo's glow colors the sand and miles speaks up again, the kelpie halts what he's doing to meet him in an equal half-turn of his torso to him. ]

Sure. [ he wonders what it is—? but he stops his hands from moving around, keeping them stretched in front of the bag he's put between his legs. it's a quiet, almost rare moment of calm for him, reassured even, but he's learned that with the crash and lick of waves for background noise. his attention, the direction his ears are pointing, it's all undividedly on miles. ] What's up?

[beatemall]

[The moment Shoyo turns to him, Miles immediately feels as if his tongue is too big for his mouth. He'd resolved to tell the kelpie, just as he'd confided in Robin, about who—or what—he is... But now that he's here, that he's a few words away from it, he feels a crushing nervousness overcome him.

In reality, Miles knows he's not the Spider-Man of Ryslig, he doubts there even is one; but old habits die hard, and the desperation to keep his hero identity and personal identity secret still pervades him. He feels every deadened nerve within his body screaming as the thought of exposing himself but, no... Even Peter's revealed to a trusted few—and Miles needs a couple of people he can talk to about his past, so that he can finally unload the emotional weight that's been suffocating him for months, now.

Miles swallows, not even realizing that his drawing silence has likely taken up minutes now, before he scoots a little closer to Shoyo on the towel and lowers his voice. Maybe if he's quiet enough, only those satellite horse-ears will be able to hear him, and not any unsuspecting beach goer that could be potentially sneaking up on them.]

Actually... [his voice cracks as he starts, which he clears, and then pitches his tone down, the nerves making his detached hands scoop and pile sand off to the side without him really thinking about it.] I— I'm a hero.

Like, back in my own dimension, I was the protector of my city and... I dunno why it matters, I don't have my powers anymore but, I just wanted to tell you that...?

[jumpie]

[ if he's moving in this close? oh, it must be confidential, something important, or as shoyo would say: super ultra mega important. the kelpie follows suit with a sideways tilt to facilitate words whispered into the direction of a cone-shaped, furry burgundy ear held right toward him, and what is heard causes an immediate change to shoyo's expression. if he hadn't been turned as is, he would've done a double take. with his mouth agape and with an inhale to prepare his voice—

he remembers, briefly clamps his gaping lips together, and hushes with ecstatic urgency: ]

Bwu—?! No way, you too—?! [ he says, clearly thrilled, and not only that . . . ! ] What's your hero name? You gotta have one, right?

[beatemall]

[Watching Shoyo desperately try to contain his excitement is, frankly, enough to bring a full smile back to Miles' face. It spreads wide across his features, wrinkling his eyes and pulling an airy little laugh from his throat. Seems that the kelpie has already met other heroes but, it's not like they're exceedingly rare in Ryslig, by the looks of it.]

Well, my powers were like... mutated abilities a spider would have, so...

[He pauses, and then he grabs at the hem of his hoodie and lifts it—exposing the hole in his chest, with eerie mist belching out around the ribs of his rib cage. The shape of the hole is uncannily spider-like, and what he exposes isn't skin either... It's his suit, albeit fused with his torso.]

I was— am— Spider-man.

[jumpie]

[ maybe miles wasn't expecting silence. maybe that silence was . . . worrying, but not when a good look on shoyo's face is given. he's attempting to process it, glimpsing into the open chest cavity only to realize— the placement. the shape. his features may stay that way, for a bit: his mouth was extending, and his brows furrowed now with each passing second he's left speechless. ]

You're . . . !! You're—?!

[ look, it's just between them, like literally between them. no one is watching when shoyo turns halfway toward miles only to signal with both hands— and make a weird noise. poor guy. he's trying to word. can he not say it anymore?? he can't say it. this is a secret! not even mj knows and now just lil' ol' him, rando volleyball player from japan up and befirends spider-man—?! ]

[beatemall]

Yeah, I'm...

[Miles mimics the motion with his hands, although nothing happens with it because he doesn't actually have his web-shooters. It's actually kind of upsetting, considering how much he misses them but...]

It's actually kinda against secret-identity code to tell anyone but, I trust you... Also, my spider suit has been like, fused with my body for months now, and I need to tell someone about it because now it's basically like my skin and that's weird.

[jumpie]

[ it takes a grandiose amount of effort on shoyo’s part to contain his voice and the jittering under his skin like rolling drums. but, he manages, channeling it through a spreading grin that flashes his teeth and even some of his blue, glowing gums, along with pumping fists at his sides. ]

My friend, [ spider-man he hushes just short of a squeal, and now? now miles deserves his shoulders being shook. ] and you’re trusting me, I—

[ he’s speechless, and what he’s feeling is some ways beyond words. ]

Thank you?! Just— Man, this is— beyond awesome and I’m trying really hard not to jump all over the place—!

[ he really is! his fidgeting is off the charts. ]

You were amazing before that, and now you’re just— woosh!