And we'll eat their dreams until they die inside

[falkeditupagain]

Staring in the cracked mirror that morning, Hanna had felt a sense of accomplishment he never really had before. It had been months, and the longest time, he hadn't felt as good as he did now, each deep breath he took, he did so with new lungs, and it reminded him of what he had done to get here. Weeks of sickness, bedridden and miserable. Pushing his body to its limits to find where his true threshold of power was. And, with his shirt off, the absence of the runes on his body, keeping him alive were a sign that maybe he could move on from hiding his problems from the world. That sewing him up wasn't an impossible idea any more, and that the cool metal of his staples could maybe be removed one last time and be replaced with a needle and thread to make a much cleaner line.

This wasn't quite so important though, no. Not right now, early morning, mid June he had a job that needed doing that was at least six months in the making. So, pulling on a shirt to go over the scars, he put his supplies in his pocket, the rest outside and waiting for him, and he quietly heads towards the door. Both Lea and Vriska are aware of his plan, but at the same time he didn't want interference. He wanted to do this alone, and the text's he's left them both are easily written off as Hanna just being Hanna, going and doing shit. He can face the heat later when they get angry that he didn't mention that today was the day, but...this is something he wants to do for himself. It's what he's suffered for the past few months and just like back home, he's got this, all on his lonesome.

Slipping on his shoes, he gives one last glance at the house, the cool summer air still warm and keeping the house a nice temperature, before he shuts the door. The weeder he had found would do the job he was intending it to do just fine, even if it would take quite a while, and he smiled at the little hand tool, ready to set out, his spot all figured out. And the walk in the mid-summer sun was a nice one, feeling like a good omen for the battle that he was sure would come. It was far enough from home and close enough to Pitch's hole in the ground that he wouldn't have to worry about interference but wouldn't have to wait long for his enemy either. And, arriving, he sighed, looking up at the morning sky, void of clouds, before setting to work.

Using the hand tool to carve the lines into the ground had taken a while. The dirt was hard, almost rock like, but it served it's purpose to not fall away or be broken easily at all. It was like carving his work in stone, and the piece was truly large. At least ten feet in diameter, the middle of the rune was the start of the barrier, having started working on the construction of it a few months ago, little by little. The cage was sufficient, he was sure, strong enough that it would hold for a few days while the seal worked to trap the prey and its powers to prevent any sort of attempt at escape. It was hard work, the lines needing to be precise, and there was no real room for error, but he'd been doing this for years and the perfect curves of his circles, the straight lines he dug into the ground were perfect. And when he finished, well...his hands were a mess, but it was worth it.

Having wasted the whole day, and ready to go home to take a few hours of rest before calling Pitch out, he gently scuffed his shoe on the ground at the center of the piece, admiring his handy work before heading back home, tired and accomplished.

But hours later, Hanna was back, luring the nightmare that had tried to tried to invade his dreams like all the past nights previous, and when he got close enough, the horse exploded in a shower of sand and magenta light. Hanna's signal had been sent. He was ready, and with his runes laid out in a circle, ready to alert him of which way the man was coming? Well. He hoped his plan would be fail safe and not let his lack of awareness be a handicap in this fight, even if it cost him a little pain to do so. He had sacrificed too many hours to let a little pain get in the way of completing months of work.

And now all he had left to do was wait in dim light of night, only an hour or two away from the dawn, and Hanna's revenge was near.

Comments

[closetshark]

Pitch came swiftly, the death of one of his Nightmares enough to draw him to the location.

"You really shouldn't have done that Hanna." he sighed from the shadows, stepping from the east. "You don't even have your little army to fight me for you, you're a bit too pathetic to do much of anything on your own."

He was sardonic, teasing. The boy wasn't a real threat to him, few humans ever had been and those that were had quickly become something else. Immortal, legendary, Guardian.

"Not that I'm not amused that you're trying. It's rather like a little pomeranian thinking it can hunt with wolves."

[falkeditupagain]

The moment Pitch appears, a light flashes under where he's stepped, a large radius of the battle ground covered in little tiny runes painstakingly carved into the ground. a similar one, drawn on Hanna's arm lights up and he winces, the sharp prick of pain having him turn to see that yes indeed, there is Pitch, and his plan is set into motion. "I'd like to see you fight this little pomeranian, Pitch. I'm sure I can surprise you, even just a little."

His fingers clench, eyes narrowing with determination. "You know, you stand for everything that i've been trying to prevent my entire life. Someone's got to bring you down a notch." He's sure that's his task, at least today.

[closetshark]

Pitch chuckled, dancing away from the flash of light as shadows swarmed around his feet. "I'm a bit old to be surprised but I'm sure you're going to try."

He spread his arms, mocking a bow towards the boy. "You can't prevent Fear, boy. It has existed since the first star was born and will survive until the last one falls to darkness, I'm simply a facet of it."

[falkeditupagain]

At the moment, Hanna isn't sure if his 'know where Pitch is' plan is worth it as another few tiny bursts of pain dance up his arm. They're like needle pricks and it makes his stomach turn, but he'd rather be aware than not when dealing with the man. He can't fight the wince as more light follows Pitch where ever he goes, fingering the marker in his pocket a moment to then start forward with purpose. "I am going to, and you're going to get the shock of your life, I promise you that."

And with this, he runs forward, armed with his runes and dangerous. He's got his hammer in his back pocket as well, but he isn't sure he will actually use it. It all depends, he supposes. Still, even if he can't prevent fear, he can still create hope, and preserve dreams, and that's what he's doing today. "Well I'm turning the faucet off, at least for a little while, it'll do the world a whole lot of good without you in it!"

[closetshark]

Pitch laughs, dancing aside to drop and melded in to the shadows on the ground, "Suck it up, Child. The world doesn't change how it works because you want to stamp your feet and throw a fit over it not being the way you want. You're just an insignificant human, you don't matter."

His voice echoed faintly, coming from both everywhere and nowhere at once. "But you want to play with the big kids then fine. I'll be happy to throw you around a bit at this point, you've been a thorn in my side for a bit too long."

Pitch rose slowly from the shadows not far from behind Hanna, scythe raised to swing and knock him aside the moment he fully materialized.

[falkeditupagain]

"I am not throwing a fit, you're fucking with people and they don't appreciate it. I don't appreciate it, so you can take your meddling and go somewhere else." And he doesn't mind being thrown around, so long as he can get a swing at Pitch. He's going to get him in that seal and leave him there. See how it feels to be helpless for a little bit, and living in fear of your every moment. His fingers curl up into fists, glaring as he tries to spot the shadow, not feeling the slightest prick from his warning runes.

But suddenly a sharp pain comes up his arm, Hanna swirling around to see him there, behind him. Except, instead of running, he charges forward, that same rune that he had used to punch Pitch in the face before on his palm, ready. He doesn't care if he gets hurt at this moment. An eye for an eye in this situation is good enough for him. And then, after that, they can just play a game of cat and mouse until he finally gets him into the seal in the middle of their playing field and wait.

[closetshark]

Pitch staggered back a few feet when Hanna hit him, reeling from the force of the blow. "Fine." He spat, gold eyes glinting as his hands clawed. "You want to play... let's play."

The shadows boiled, Pitch's clothing and hair shifting inhumanly as darkness rose up his skin to obscure everything short of his eyes which morphed in to glowing pits as a dark maw with jagged edges that resembled teeth cracked across his face.

He grew taller, a pillar of darkness that dripped shadowy wisps.

"Going to run little morsel?" He said, more of the eyes opening along his back. It was certainly Pitch speaking, but there was a perfectly in sync crowd speaking as well. "Do you know how long it's been since I've eaten someone?"

[falkeditupagain]

"I'm not playing. I'm kicking your ass. There is a fucking difference." There is some satisfaction leaking into Hanna's tone. It felt good to punch him, and he's kind of wanting to do it again. But before he gets the chance to, the figure before him starts to shift and Hanna takes a few good steps back. There is that moment where the fear starts to sink in, but stupidity, pride and the will to prove his point, to stop the nightmares make it easier to swallow it down, ignoring the fast beating of his heart.

The words, loud, made him swallow, hard and his fingers clenched into fists. He wouldn't run. "I don't care to know."

But how was he even going to reach him when he was this height? He looks back, towards the middle of the large array and thinks a moment. He could just lure him in, finish this right now. But he's not sure he wants it to end just like this. There isn't enough satisfaction in it. Not enough skill shown to create that fear inside Pitch's heart too. He may be just a human, but when cornered, they show their worth.

"Eat this, mother fucker." And, reaching behind him to grab his hammer from the back of his belt, he hurls it straight up towards the now hideously dark figure above him, aiming at his face.

[closetshark]

The hammer hits dead on, Pitch reeling back with the force of the blow with a howl before twisting unnaturally and surging forward all claws and teeth ready to sink them in to Hanna and rip in to him.

Every aggravation about this place, every frustration since the day he'd woken in this hellpit was screaming at him to rip and devour the boy and there was little reason Pitch saw not to do it at this point. People needed to be reminded of what he was, how dangerous he could be if his ire raised and making a dripping half eaten example of one of them was the most blatant way of doing it.

He would string the boy up from somewhere high and leave the idiot's PCD to record him. Death may not be permanent here but Pitch would be sure to make it horrible enough to send a message.

[falkeditupagain]

The scream tugs at Hanna's mouth in the worst way, a smile that doesn't really fit on his face of sick satisfaction before it suddenly drops and his eyes get wide. "Oh shit..." And that was when Hanna finally decided that turning and running towards his circle is his best bet for survival. Lea had warned him that if he needed to save himself from death, killing Pitch was the only other option. Kill or be killed, and at this point in time he's realizing very quickly that in this stage of the conflict, That's how it's going to go down. There is no other option.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" And each movement from the dark figure bursts on his skin and it's distracting enough that he falls just short of the middle of the circle. He can feel the presence of the darkness drawing nearer and he swallows, turning around to try and scramble backwards before he can be touched. It's a little too far though and it's going to be a painful, he knows, but Hanna grits his teeth as Pitch draws closer, eyes closing as his fingers curl around the marker in his pocket and he waits for the suffering because it's bound to be there, any second now.

But the closer he gets the better it is. Even if he gets beaten to hell. Even if he loses something. He's gained so much and this fight is everything he's worked for. No pain, no gain. "C-come at me, Spooky fucker. I'm ready for you."