Kuja (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
finalbows) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sheep_game2024-04-14 08:11 pm
finalbows) wrote in sheep_game2024-04-14 08:11 pm
Entry tags:
hello (heart)gamers. im here w some special guest stars
WHO: all who dare enter angie's literal mind palace. it's OPEN HOUSE! no invites needed!
WHERE: in front of miku's salad (and yours)
WHEN: evening 73.
[ in the middle of running a perfectly innocuous miniquest, Angel Devil falls down.
His clothes have twisted away into bone-white rags, leaving a body covered over with only thick swathes of red fur, and downy feathers. His long tail is curled into a tense arc, banded fur standing on end.
The air wavers like he’s a heat mirage, not a man. He’s boiling away with absolutely stupid amounts of arcane power… and, most frighteningly, he does not seem in control of the fact that it is there and being brought to bear. It’s impossible to get any closer to him.
When he speaks, it’s quite timid. ]
Oh.
Oops.
...Thought I had... a little more time.
[ (and in a blinding flash of light, there is the sound of something breaking.) ]
WHERE: in front of miku's salad (and yours)
WHEN: evening 73.
[ in the middle of running a perfectly innocuous miniquest, Angel Devil falls down.
His clothes have twisted away into bone-white rags, leaving a body covered over with only thick swathes of red fur, and downy feathers. His long tail is curled into a tense arc, banded fur standing on end.
The air wavers like he’s a heat mirage, not a man. He’s boiling away with absolutely stupid amounts of arcane power… and, most frighteningly, he does not seem in control of the fact that it is there and being brought to bear. It’s impossible to get any closer to him.
When he speaks, it’s quite timid. ]
Oh.
Oops.
...Thought I had... a little more time.
[ (and in a blinding flash of light, there is the sound of something breaking.) ]
~KRRSHHK~
[any observers will see, strangely see-through and superimposed on the scene, some kind of vast tree, illusionary roots twisting over and around to frame a door. the door itself is wrought of opaque stained glass in blacks and whites and greys; a stylized rendition of Angie in that strangely ragged, feathered form, curled in on himself, eyes closed. Angie himself is nowhere to be seen. ]
instead, a shadow . . . steps into view from behind the door. for a moment it looks like nothing so much as a second genome – then it turns, gaining features and definition with the movement. The monkey tail separates into three plumes; a ponytail unfurls into wings that lift up from the sides of the head.
. . . well. This is the least I can do before I go, in exchange for the safe harbor.
[she lifts her head, nodding to any observers, and gestures at the door.]
You’ll want to head in there now if you don’t wish to lose your flockmate, I think. Even the false-death of this place won’t be much help to him, if his soul is left to finish pulling itself apart.
My sisters and I can maintain the way into and out of it for you, but we were not made to knit such wounds by ourselves. Have a care.
instead, a shadow . . . steps into view from behind the door. for a moment it looks like nothing so much as a second genome – then it turns, gaining features and definition with the movement. The monkey tail separates into three plumes; a ponytail unfurls into wings that lift up from the sides of the head.
Teleute(?) is here, dressed in her customary black, but there is colour in her skin, and her hair and eyes are blue. she’s frowning.]
. . . well. This is the least I can do before I go, in exchange for the safe harbor.
[she lifts her head, nodding to any observers, and gestures at the door.]
You’ll want to head in there now if you don’t wish to lose your flockmate, I think. Even the false-death of this place won’t be much help to him, if his soul is left to finish pulling itself apart.
My sisters and I can maintain the way into and out of it for you, but we were not made to knit such wounds by ourselves. Have a care.
Re: ONWARD
her hook catches, and she soon reels something in.
it seems... this man's heart inexorably links "tenderness," even at its most pure, with a matching sensation of "pain." ]
Re: ONWARD
reaches into the memory for him. she does not have time to ask to hear his words, share his feelings, and know his thoughts.]
Wake up.
1/2
as a blue mask riddled with holes coalesces to cover his face.
the little gryphon is frozen in the past, rolling in the grass, as are the parade of attendant rose sheep.
he grips his middle. fuck, fuck, it hurts. why does it hurt so damn BAD? ]
Tel--
Teleute. What?
..No, hold on...
2/2
he knows where they are. ]
...You... came. I haven't felt you there... in a while.
Re: 2/2
[though she cannot make expressions with her bird's face, there is a distinct impression that she's frowning in her psychic voice]
Though we considered it. But you refused our offer of an ending already; so we'll help you fan the rage back to brightness in your soul.
Show us the wound.
Re: 2/2
[ as the red pours forth unstifled, the scene around them shifts, ]
[ days ago. "It's not that I don't want to." a little dove, hunched in on itself in the palm of a man's hand. "My master's killed me, Muffin. Long ago. It just, it's taken this whole long while to take."
no. that's not it yet. ]
[ shifts, ]
"A mortal...? ...I'm finished? I don't believe you! Why would I
believe such a silly story! You're telling me that I'll die soon, now that I'm more powerful than anyone? I'm gonna...die! Lose my soul...? Ha... HAHAHAHAHAHA! What comedy! Zidane, isn't it hilarious!? I'll die just like the black mages I so despise! I single-handedly brought chaos unto Gaia, but in the end, I'm nothing but a worthless doll!" ]
[ shifts, ]
[ something in him, not quite a part of his body, begins to hurt like it's been stabbed. he falls forward, steadying himself with his palms on the rim of the fountain, staring wide eyed into his own face. outwardly, nothing's changed about 'Redsoul.' inwardly... he's gained a fresh, one-day-to-be-fatal wound,
[ shifts, ]closer. achingly closer. ]
[ collapsed in a boneless slump sat upon a strange and foreboding throne, voice groggy with pain. "It's over? You've fixed me?" ]
[ there.found it. ]
Re: 2/2
(the wound in his body)
(into that last memory)
she pours herself into it. greetings, he hears, implacable, the programming she could not and cannot ever shake. she fights her way into that throne room, doing her best not to rip him any wider open.
her rationale is this: she has spoken to and welcomed people and souls for a very, very long time, communions across the stars. she knows that the soul and the body register memory even when consciousness goes.
she is trying to rewind to before he woke up.
what was done to him?
how was he 'fixed'?
what did it look like at that critical moment?]
no subject
until a firm, pitiless lord demands, ]
"Time."
[ 2,078,043 minutes since his creation, the part of him that never needed to learn any lessons supplies.
and then he'd woken up in the chair. ]
[ before he fell into the darkness, that soul felt: trepidation. it had already learned its creator had no hesitation in causing it pain. cold stone. that chair, underneath him. a terrible sinking, cold feeling climbing up his spine.
"After this alteration, you will at last be ready to serve as Gaia's Angel of Death."
the "alteration" is a one, exact, expertly placed incision, a pain so great in a place that's not meant to feel it that his conscious minds quits the scene, casting him down into the black-- ]
no subject
what happens then, if he were simply...to stay awake in this recollection of himself, seeing the wound made fresh, without agony removing all faculties he has to deal with it?]
no subject
and the man in the chair, indeed, doesn't fall down in that darkness.
he feels the shape of what's been cut into his soul, feels confusion, panic-- without pain--
and his blue mask, riddled with holes, falls off. and cracks down the middle. ]
[ at the fore of the room, the golden mask on Charon's face cracks down the middle, too, and falls off. ]
no subject
(who she thinks of a little like a brother)]
Fight. You know best how to fix yourself, do you not? When it comes down to it.
no subject
Fight. or it's going to go the same way, the same conclusion, after all. ]
"I need...
To excise... the scar...
Or it can't heal... back together."
no subject
We are used to these things.
no subject
I can't tell you how many pieces I'm in already... I feel like I'm tens of places at once... but there are already some coming back together. Stronger. I feel the echoes of all their words...
Sisters of the dark,
I don't think you can depart like you wish if you give forth a cord to sew me back together. We shouldn't make you another string."
no subject
Still, someone else would have to sew.
[she’s not jumping to sacrifice herself, mind. but it is indeed an offer.]
1/2
2/? Hold on .sorry . Hamster wheel
> okay but all the desire pieces are not actually h--
> why did a red mask of desire just clatter out of midair onto the floor. Hey. Hey. Did that bit of him REALLY remember who and what it is from the abyss of oncoming death because his self worth issues were offered (ANOTHER!!!!) tithe of "someone permanently breaks off a shard of themselves to give him" ]
3/4
4/5
changed his mind . let Her Grace sweep him away to his most final rest]
5/5
"There's only so noble I can pretend to act. Of course I'd like to jump to accept that. I'm the one who caroused about for months carrying a shard of you because it made me feel more secure, am I not.
Don't offer me such a thing until the absolute moment you're ready for me to take it, without hesitation. I tend to relish leaving permanent marks on people."
Re: 5/5
she picks up both masks. can she feel anything in particular from them?]
It wasn't made lightly. Perhaps it would be interesting to be part of someone who struggles so, instead of only watching from within them.
Re: 5/5
~ masks to share, know, and hear. ~
MASK OF DESIRE
"To become a greater sum, than what you were."
MASK OF CRUELTY
"To make another a lesser sum, than what they were."
[ these masks mean very, very many things, to angel devil. they are, put together, the root of the curse that binds him.
red the seed of curiosity, that nourished his soul. white the shield of thorns, that sought to zealously protect it.
they are what makes him such a living, struggling, covetous thing. ]
Re: 5/5
if this incubated sister were not more Hope than Teleute in this moment, she might crush them right now, just to see what he would do. would he find another rope out of the depths, or would he finally accept her offer of oblivion?]
Do you want these?
1/2
2/3
I'd be rather easier to get along with, without that white one.
Yet,
I'd also be rather easier to get along with, without a soul.
...How about this, Singer?
An exchange.
Take with you a portion, of the red.
3/3
Re: 3/3