Deer Country Network

[He debates for a while if he wants to post this anonymously or not. He very nearly does, for fear of making people worried.]

[But he's trying to be better about his mental health, and if he can put his face to this then others can feel more comfortable talking about their problems, too.]

I was just wondering...

A lot of us are 'heroes' in our home worlds, or maybe 'chosen ones' or... basically we're expected to save the world or do something amazing.

How do you change from that to going to an everyday life? I've been trying to for months, but I can't shake the habit if expecting to solve every problem by myself - or nearly by myself, at least. ... It's nice to be regarded as a 'normal' person, but it's difficult to stop trying to be a 'hero'.

It's getting to be a problem, not knowing how to not take on too much. Does anyone have any tips?

[Now to hope Gaia misses this post...]

[it's black. a single inverted conical light hangs overhead, casting a yellowing glow down onto the wooden table below. maybe a few stains of liquid here and there on the surface, maybe that's wood pattern, who knows. a man's sitting in the darkness at the table, gnarled purple burn scars attached to the healthy flesh of his hands via surgical staples just around the base of his palm and past his wrists. the same burns travel all the way up his arms and vanish beneath metallic cuffs above his elbows, clasped to his dark coat. similar burn scars cover his entire throat and the lower half of his face, as well as his lower eyelids, all stapled to his flesh the same way, which gives him a skeletal rictus grin of sorts. it even spreads down to his upper chest, before his white shirt hides it from view.

dabi really doesn't make a lot of posts or responses on the network, but sometimes, hey, you gotta reach out and ask a question or two. he leans forward, spiky black hair brushing just under the light above, probably giving indication he's in some booth somewhere, but no other clues beyond that.]

Ain't much for this kinda thing, but anyone out there got a computer? Somethin from a "modern" time that'd take a USB cable. Maybe with some good media editing software. These Omni things can download and store media from the network, but hell if I can find a port on this rock.

[the image shifts a few times as he gives the omni a few turns around, as if doing one last double check for proof. then settles it again. dabi sets a small button camera used for covert recording operations down on the table.]

Or if ya know how to jack somethin from home into the Omni, lemme know. I got a few things I wanna upload to the network.

[the camera itself isn't capable of connecting to any kind of network, so transfers of the media recorded has to be manual.]

Might be fun to watch 'em later.

[Shigaraki looks pretty pleased with himself, his dry lips and proud scar on the left of them making no shy concern where smirking is considered.]

Sometimes I wish popcorn was more readily available here. I've seen a lot of people talk. A lot of people talk virtuously and when it comes down to it? I've seen a lot of people turn against one another, turn against their morals and their preachy speeches when they can't fight the deep dark they denied anymore. I don't even know if I think it's funny. I just think sometimes people think they're so much better.

[There's a shrug of both his shoulders, exaggerated along with a very pronounced and exaggerated pout that brings up his brow well into the mess of white hair that he's clearly leaned up against a building with.]

Look really, really deep into yourselves once you all... Get a hold of yourself again. Ask yourself what you're capable of and then think back to here.

[His head tilts and he sighs, relaxing and slouching back on the building looking still pleased by the whole thing.]

But let's play devil's advocate. What if I saw someone attacking someone else? Help them?

[Crimson red eyes look upward and he mulls very obviously over the question as he tilts his head back and forth in the consideration of what he's thinking.]

That sounds like fun. In fact, if you're in trouble. Message me. I'll come take care of it personally. I just don't want to hear bitching about whatever method I choose, that's all the payment I need. Don't feel safe walking out on your own? Ask, maybe I won't be too busy to escort you. This seems like a fun experiment.

[ The video starts out with a stoic looking Shouto staring at the camera. His omen isn't exactly the type to sit still these days thanks to a recent setback involving a nightmare demon, so he gets straight to the point while she's in one of her rare moods. ]

My name is Todoroki Shouto. I can generate ice. 

[ To demonstrate, he raises his right hand and - CHINK! - a pillar of ice bursts forth rising beyond the recording's view. Shaking off the frost from his hand, he continues. ]

Heatwaves in my country lead to many hospitalizations every summer. They're especially difficult for the elderly, so I'm offering ice to anyone who needs it, and ice shelters for those who can't get to a Cooling Center in Trench. 

[ The camera angle abruptly turns 90 degrees when his omen turns on her back, head tilting sideways, watching him curiously. ]

I'll be patrolling through the city during peak hours offering ice to local homes and businesses, and emergency aid to anyone who needs it. You can contact me through my Omni. 

[ He's ready to end the call there when a thought strikes him and he continues.  ] 

Any public centers offering a Cooling Center should advertise their hours of operation. A posted list in a public space would be best. 

[  Behind him a blue butterfly flutters by and the recording hones in on it. A few seconds later, his camera runs off, chasing after it. ] 


( Action )

[ Deep breath, come on, you've got this. ]

...just because someone becomes a beast, it doesn't mean they stop being human.

[ The video comes on and it's an older, slender teenager with stark white hair; pale grey eyes and a strangely delicate bright red mark slashed across the left side of his face. He seems to be in a courtyard of sorts, one of Amaterasu's guardian saplings is behind him in full bloom. He's only visible from the chest up, but the chair he's sitting in has handles behind it-- looks like a wheelchair. Whatever is taking the video also appears to be a flying sort of thing that bobs slightly. It's trying to hold this video still, but really... ]

Most of you probably already know this. [ His head cants to the side with a lightly apologetic smile. ] Some of you might even be able to still hear or reach them despite that form.

But not everyone does, and it's still too easy to say "oh, it's safer and quicker to just kill them. You don't save monsters." [ The official creed of the Hunters... but he's diplomatic enough to not say that aloud. ] Or "oh, a Sleeper can just come back." Except it isn't just us. Someone else who isn't... most of them who were human... they aren't like us. [ He smiles softly, but in a way that doesn't reach his eyes. They hood, bittersweet. ]

They're just dead then. The soul suffers until the end. Maybe beyond.

It doesn't have to be like that though. [ He seems a soft-spoken sort with a lilted voice, but his tone shifts then and becomes more certain. ] They aren't just a monster, and they don't have to stay one. Even with what they've become -- the soul is still human. Some part of them still wants to be saved; to be themselves once again. And they can. [ Mostly. At least so far in his experience. ]

Some of us have abilities that can let us purify or reverse what corrupted them and bring them back. Some of us-- [ he pauses, looking for a moment just a touch overwhelmed as his eyes drift to the side, the smallest curl of a touched sort of smile at the corner of his mouth ] ... a number of us, we're trying to do something to change things. At one of the old monasteries in Crenshaw.

[ But he closes his eyes. Deep breath, you can do this.

He lifts his eyes back up to the "camera", his expression schooled now with a quiet sort of determination. Chin up, eyes forward. ]

My name is Allen Walker. I'm an Exorcist. [ Clearer, more certain: steady. Rung like a quiet bell. ]

Who's been able to save someone who became a beast?

[ More importantly: ] Who wants to?

[ It's more determined and clearer still. ]

[it's a video, but it's dark. either someone on the other end still hasn't gotten the complete grasp of how a magical chunk of crystal is supposed to work compared to a smartphone (the unlikely cause) or they're simply not wanting to be seen right now (the likely cause). not that he cares which of the two people want to assume.

there's a faint "fwooph" and a blue glow momentarily illuminates the surrounding area. dusty wall, dark-colored cushions, an old curtain drifting lazily against the side of a dark boot, and the reflection of that blinding blue flared up in the glass of a three-sided bay window. gone, and it plunges back into the shadows. takes a few more moments for the image to adjust, ultimately revealing the hovering orange end of a cigarette caught in the glass's image.

he'll be keeping the rest of himself in the shadows for the time being.]

I'm lookin for some things.

[this place is a dichotomy, looks old but somehow isn't? since plenty of people here apparently come from different places and worlds, best take a quick shot in the dark for familiarity sake. an exhale sends a jet of smoke into the glass, wisps curling in licks over the surface.]

What do ya know about the Lumenarium? I need some medical shit, but ain't interested in havin some random doctor pokin around.

[he'll get into the details if needed.]

This place got cigarettes? Gonna run out of mine soon enough.

[cause obviously this is an important request and "fuck you" to anyone who tells him to light up an incense stick in lieu. another drag on the cigarette and the rest comes out with the smoke.]

Since money's not a thing here, we can trade.

[leave that vague offer for reasons. seems he's taking pains to not give away features or location on purpose. deal with it.]