hello (heart)gamers. im here w some special guest stars

[finalbows]

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.) ]

~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.  

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.

Comments

[electricflock]

[WAH]

Thank you~!

[sticking the pieces together!! he’s going to wear this AND the mask of love, one on his face and the other on top of his head]

[finalbows]

[ DUAL-WIELDING ACHIEVED

the bloom filter doesn't go away. this is just part of how your run looks now. ]

[ anything else you want to get done in quetzal's soul bedroom before we move along? ]

[electricflock]

[he’s gonna explore a LITTLE, nosing around the room for anything that looks out-of-place and tidying as he goes. any cobwebs left in the four-poster? gone now. fluffs the pillows on the bed. puts his make-up away. pockets some of quetzal’s fur like the bird he is.

he’ll rap curiously on the box under the bed. something hidden in an already locked room?]

[finalbows]

[ when he taps on it,

it gives a single note, as if from a music box. ]

[electricflock]

[chirp?

chimes the note back at it]

[finalbows]

[ no answer.
perhaps the motion of touching it jostled the note free? ]

[electricflock]

Huh.

[pulling it out from underneath the bed]

[finalbows]

[ it's a very weathered box. humble. shy. a bit dusty, from its position up under the bed.
inside...

scattered shreds of confetti,
one dozen little blue crystals carefully wrapped in paper,
a lock of green hair,
a pinch of yellow genome fur,
a tawny gryphon feather,
a piece of black antler,
a lock of blue hair, tied up with thread along with a tuft of brown fur,
a smaller feather, black as pitch,
a pinch of a baby dragon's scales,
a small length of a pale white braided cord,

and the music box he'd heard, whose key starts turning and whose tune starts to play, when he brushes his hand over it. ]

[electricflock]

[pips]

I know this song…

[takes the box to the desk to look at the contents in better light and to dust the lid. he knows who some of these are from.]

Is mine… Fifi, Teleute, Zidane…

[but he doesn’t know some of the others.]

[finalbows]

[ on a closer look, and because you legit Just saw her, the antler looks a lot like shadow fiend's.

the green hair smells like. Very Magic. a total stranger. not human, but not completely inhuman, either.

the crystals...

A familiar temple, bound in by snow, a shimmering island visible across the sea.

A palace with a spiraling stair, full of statues of angels and demons, the path draining leading down, down to an awful set of dungeons.

Sunset. Off a coast that looks remarkably like what the beach he'd flown over had turned into.

...are memories of Gaia.

[electricflock]

[WOULD Angel Devil “I want to hurt people” the Angel of Death live in a palace with angel and devil statues and private dungeons, WOULD he

pokes the crystal]

Your house?

[finalbows]

[ ...the crystal makes a small, affirmative chiming sound.

it seems slightly embarrassed at getting called out so fast. ]

[electricflock]

[sir this barn itself is literally a goth mansion]

Fancy.

[wraps the crystals back up, being especially delicate with the temple one. he remembers that place.]

[finalbows]

[ bedtime for irreplaceable memories. ]

[ ...as you finish doing that,
for some reason
you can't help but feel a prickle on the back of your neck. you feel the urge to look at the door to the room. ]

[electricflock]

[...? glances over his shoulder. shouldn't that door be locked,]

[finalbows]

[ it's locked!

...but the Mist has started trailing in through all the gapes between the door and frame.]

[electricflock]

Hey! No!?

[—closes the keepsake box aaaaaa ducks into the closet to hide it up on the top shelf. put that somewhere SAFE and high up before trying to deal with the mist.

back into the room and shooting off a light at the mist]

Pew pew! Go away!

[finalbows]

[ where the sunshine hits, it's driven back. you've bought a little time. the dregs still slipping in are slow... but insistent. sand in the hourglass, rather than an invader you can scare off. ]

[electricflock]

[turns his own glow up high and bangs on the door]

Rose!? Is anyone out there? What's going on!