[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/h5xf31C.png[/img][/center][hr][i][b]//Day 1 | Location:[/b] Nameless Forest - Lakeside[/i]
[sub][@AThousandCurses][@baraquiel][@Nakushita][@Yankee][@Vertigo][/sub]
Whatever Masato had hoped to gather in that moment scattered when Duncan’s guts spilled open, floodgates parting to the sheer madness that seized everyone else. Ayana’s hands reached immediately to pull the grass out from his organs, finding much success in pulling the plantlife away. And yet, that same success wasn’t mirrored when she tried to use a part of her skirt to clot up the wound. The fabric didn’t absorb any of the blood at all as the liquid substance seemed to be [i]squeezed[/i] around it instead, coating Ayana’s fingers. Viscous, that’s what it was. It was a substance that flowed like a liquid, and yet was not so easily soaked up like one.

And though its taste may have stayed a perpetual unknown, Shun was drawn to that golden blood like a bear to a pot of honey. Shifting away Ayana’s pitiful attempts to clot up the wound, she poked a finger inside Duncan’s open wound, eliciting a sensation through his body that felt…less like someone stabbing into him and more like someone pushing something into his belly button. Mad as it was, the basketball star could only recognize it as ‘touch’ not ‘pain’. And before much else could be done, Shun took a taste.

It didn’t taste like blood.

It didn’t taste like honey either.

It had no taste at all, but left a numbing, near-electric sting upon her tongue, one that spread around her mouth, down her throat, and finally into her stomach, her core. And then, though it was nothing more than a slight jolt, she could indeed recognize that jolt. Like the feeling of a sugar rush, the feeling of a cleaned-out engine. It was meager, but Shun was just a little bit more energetic than before.

Perhaps then, that was what they needed. Asahi came to the conclusion, and Duncan acted upon that conclusion. His own blood pooled so freely in his hands, and yet none of the effects of blood loss seemed to actually affect him. There was no dizziness of his head, no pain in his abdomen, no weakness of his limbs as he allowed himself to bleed, the plantlife around him still crawling over his lap as he poured the weighty, viscous fluid into the half-parted lips of Sasuke.

[b]“Ah, that might be…”[/b] Only one person said it this time. Hiroshi. But whatever he said, he didn’t finish, because it was already too late. And who knows. Maybe it wasn’t even possible to choke on [i]this[/i] fluid.

And maybe, it was because whatever was happening to Sasuke was [i]immediate[/i].

His complexion recovered its color, deathly pale skin gaining a warmth once more. His breathing, thankfully unobstructed, became stronger. Stronger still was his heartbeat, thrumming with more strength every moment that passed. The warmth that emerged upon his skin, upon his cheeks, turned red. His breathing became deeper, more rapid, chest heaving up and down and up and down! Asahi could hear his heart audibly now, and everyone else could hear it too, the jackhammer roar that blended into a singular sound! His skin, from reds to purple, scant sweatdrops beading over skin that was feverish yet dehydrated! Lips parting in a scathing gasp, sucking in more and more and yet never getting enough! His heart, his heart!

Blood burst out from his orifices. Black blood, rotten blood, from his nose and his eyes and his ears, staining Asahi’s clothes, steaming upon the long-grass. The putrid purging caused Daisuke to gag and then stumble away, even as Sasuke’s own body continued to convulse, joints cracking and bones grinding in wretched restraint.

[i]Because hey, it wasn’t like it could make things any worse at this point, right?[/i]