You can only buy used mirrors.
[ It takes a little while for Ange to respond, since she isn't up all night, but when something does wake her up in the middle of the night and she sees that message, she just..
.. kind of feels like she's dreaming. Is she dreaming? ]
Are you okay? Did something hijack this?
.. kind of feels like she's dreaming. Is she dreaming? ]
Are you okay? Did something hijack this?
[Guess whose paranoia has lifted? This guy! And he's feeling pretty embarrassed that he dragged Ange around looking for a giant monster hand. Yeesh.]
heyyy
thanks for humouring me about the Lich stuff
i'm feeling a lot better now
he might be around here, but there's a good chance he isn't
i'm not gonna drag you all over the city again looking for him
heyyy
thanks for humouring me about the Lich stuff
i'm feeling a lot better now
he might be around here, but there's a good chance he isn't
i'm not gonna drag you all over the city again looking for him
I wasn't really humouring you, you know. You seemed so genuinely concerned, so of course I was worried too!
[ Ange isn't too sure why that feels so important to her to clarify, but it just does. She doesn't ever want him to feel like she's just humouring him, or anything like that.
Especially not when it seemed like he was expressing a pretty serious concern to her back there. ]
Are you sure you're feeling alright about it now?
[ Ange isn't too sure why that feels so important to her to clarify, but it just does. She doesn't ever want him to feel like she's just humouring him, or anything like that.
Especially not when it seemed like he was expressing a pretty serious concern to her back there. ]
Are you sure you're feeling alright about it now?
[Hey. Hey Ange.
It might feel like there's a sight of eyes following her around today and that's because there is. A crow stalks to the skyies or rooftoops, alley ways or windows as she goes about her daily routine.
A crow with a knife.
This is fine.]
It might feel like there's a sight of eyes following her around today and that's because there is. A crow stalks to the skyies or rooftoops, alley ways or windows as she goes about her daily routine.
A crow with a knife.
This is fine.]
[ This is apparently just her life now.
Not that Ange has noticed yet that this is her life now, mind you. She's just going about her day, trying to avoid any annoying ghosts. And maybe at one point in the day she spots the crow, thinking it's.. a little weird that it's holding a knife.. but just deciding that maybe this is just one of those things that she shouldn't involve herself in.
But then she sees the crow again, later in the day.
And then even later she spots the same knife-wielding crow sitting on a windowsill. What is this. Can't she just ignore weird things in peace? ]
.. Are you following me?
[ Does Ange expect a crow to actually be able to talk back to her?
Who knows. ]
Not that Ange has noticed yet that this is her life now, mind you. She's just going about her day, trying to avoid any annoying ghosts. And maybe at one point in the day she spots the crow, thinking it's.. a little weird that it's holding a knife.. but just deciding that maybe this is just one of those things that she shouldn't involve herself in.
But then she sees the crow again, later in the day.
And then even later she spots the same knife-wielding crow sitting on a windowsill. What is this. Can't she just ignore weird things in peace? ]
.. Are you following me?
[ Does Ange expect a crow to actually be able to talk back to her?
Who knows. ]
Ange, hey!
Is right now a good time for a little walk with a friend?
[It's kind of important. Probably something better in-person than over a phone, anyway.]
Is right now a good time for a little walk with a friend?
[It's kind of important. Probably something better in-person than over a phone, anyway.]
[One morning Ange will awaken to find herself alone in the bedroom that she shares with Ruby Rose.
...Or is she. Slowly creeping up over the edge of the bed is this monstrosity of a mascot. Once the grinning face is in full view it'll Ange a little wave.
...She didn't just get this suit to torment Lysithea.]
...Or is she. Slowly creeping up over the edge of the bed is this monstrosity of a mascot. Once the grinning face is in full view it'll Ange a little wave.
...She didn't just get this suit to torment Lysithea.]
[ There's something, either about living in Trench, or perhaps just living with the constant presence of a certain Ruby Rose in your life, that desensitizes you to a lot of stuff.
Like this, for example. Under regular circumstances, or to regular people, this sort of thing might be terrifying considering the timing.
But with Ange knowing Ruby so well that she can tell from the thing's sheer body language who's inside of it, Ange just blinks once, then twice, as if her eyes are having some trouble adjusting to this sight..
.. and then she just lets out a very genuine laugh. It's half-sleepy, but it's real. ]
Ruby. What are you even doing?
Like this, for example. Under regular circumstances, or to regular people, this sort of thing might be terrifying considering the timing.
But with Ange knowing Ruby so well that she can tell from the thing's sheer body language who's inside of it, Ange just blinks once, then twice, as if her eyes are having some trouble adjusting to this sight..
.. and then she just lets out a very genuine laugh. It's half-sleepy, but it's real. ]
Ruby. What are you even doing?
[Wrapped up in a bright red and white box is a plate of bought snowflake cookies and a a hair piece with Ange's coloring in mind.
Attached is a note with a little rabbit doodle:]
Happy Holidays!
Love,
Usagi
Attached is a note with a little rabbit doodle:]
Happy Holidays!
Love,
Usagi
[Ange will find a small bag sitting on her window sill - one with a small note.
"Ange!
By the time you're reading this, I'm probably already off on my next adventure, huh? Sorry for making you have to deal with a second goodbye, but I wanted to give you something. Consider it a way I can still protect you sometimes, if you need it.
Or you can use it as a nice decoration on the mantle.
It should have enough cartridges to last you a few months or so, as long as you're not using it to swing everywhere. Emergency only! I also included the instructions to replicate it, if you find a way to get your hands on the materials and have a good chemistry set going.
Don't break any bones!
Love,
- Peter 🤟"
Inside the bag is, in fact, one of his webshooters, with a bundle of web cartridges and a set of instructions on how to use them — including big web blasts and taser-webbing.]
"Ange!
By the time you're reading this, I'm probably already off on my next adventure, huh? Sorry for making you have to deal with a second goodbye, but I wanted to give you something. Consider it a way I can still protect you sometimes, if you need it.
Or you can use it as a nice decoration on the mantle.
It should have enough cartridges to last you a few months or so, as long as you're not using it to swing everywhere. Emergency only! I also included the instructions to replicate it, if you find a way to get your hands on the materials and have a good chemistry set going.
Don't break any bones!
Love,
- Peter 🤟"
Inside the bag is, in fact, one of his webshooters, with a bundle of web cartridges and a set of instructions on how to use them — including big web blasts and taser-webbing.]
;(
Edited 2022-01-21 03:44 (UTC)
I have.
[ She just knows better than to dignify that kind of fit with any sort of reply, especially when she is fairly sure by now that Maul is an idiot who won't change his mind, no matter what you say.
But what's much more important here, is-- ]
Are you okay?
[ She just knows better than to dignify that kind of fit with any sort of reply, especially when she is fairly sure by now that Maul is an idiot who won't change his mind, no matter what you say.
But what's much more important here, is-- ]
Are you okay?
[Once Sayo is packed, she leaves without a word to Ange.
But she leaves behind a single glass bottle on a desk inside her room while she isn't looking.
Inside is a sheaf of papers entitled,
Confession of the Golden Witch.
That's all.]
But she leaves behind a single glass bottle on a desk inside her room while she isn't looking.
Inside is a sheaf of papers entitled,
Confession of the Golden Witch.
That's all.]
[Varian tries his best not to get too involved with his friends' lives. He always gives them their space and doesn't feel the need to push himself on them every day. But if enough time passes without any sign from them...well, he just wants to check in. He knows this world is horribly dangerous, after all. ]
Hey, Ange. Just checking in on you. Haven't heard from you for a while and I'm getting a little worried.
Is everything okay?
Hey, Ange. Just checking in on you. Haven't heard from you for a while and I'm getting a little worried.
Is everything okay?
[ It takes a while for an answer to arrive as well. Though it's the sort of while where it could still be reasonably assumed that Ange was just busy with something, really. ]
Not really.
[ Her mood and energy levels really want her to leave it at just that, but she feels like it'd be unfair to do so. If a friend gave her that answer, she knows she'd worry too. ]
Turns out that the person who caused my family's deaths is in this place as well.
Not really.
[ Her mood and energy levels really want her to leave it at just that, but she feels like it'd be unfair to do so. If a friend gave her that answer, she knows she'd worry too. ]
Turns out that the person who caused my family's deaths is in this place as well.
[It doesn't take very long for Fern to notice the severe lack of Ange in daily life, and it worries him. His first thoughts are that she's hurt somewhere, or that she headed back into the ocean as people sometimes do. Either way, he doesn't hesitate to try her omni, see if she'll respond.]
Ange!! dude i haven't heard from you lately
so consider this a check in
you alright?
Ange!! dude i haven't heard from you lately
so consider this a check in
you alright?
[ Sorry, Fern, there's definitely a delay before Ange replies to the message. Thankfully it's not a day-long delay or anything, but it definitely takes at least an hour or two before he'll find a message in return on his Omni. ]
Sorry.
A lot has happened. Or rather one big thing. I didn't really feel like being out there.
Sorry.
A lot has happened. Or rather one big thing. I didn't really feel like being out there.
[ It seems that Luna's Omni has now fallen to the recent... issue going on, and begins broadcasting from where it rests in her room. The memory flickers in to a rich, grand house — a study of sorts. The room is gloomy; pristine dark wood floors that look almost black, wooden panelling heavily decorated with fine tapestries and huge paintings with figures who move silently within them. A fire roars on one side, a woman stood before it, wand in hand. She's dressed in dark colours, hair unkempt, wild. Her heavy-lidded eyes look vexed as she stares into the flames, twitching at the sound of approaching footsteps. She smiles also manically, but it doesn't reach her eyes.
Luna's manhandled into the room, bedraggled, but not fighting too hard. She's no older than sixteen, small in the wizard's grasp and shoved hard into the center of the room before the dark-haired witch. Luna raises her head to look at Bellatrix Lestrange, unafraid but wary.
"Well, what do we have? Potter's little friend!" Bellatrix coos in sing-song as she sidles up close to Luna, thinly-veiled attempts to be disarming. "I thought maybe you and I could have a nice little chat, hm? Maybe you've had a nice long think in the dungeon, and you might choose to do the right thing here."
Luna doesn't say anything, Bellatrix continues: "Now your dear, darling Daddy's been writing some very unhelpful things about your lovely friend Harry Potter, and that—" She taps Luna's shoulder with her wand playfully punctuate each word, as if admonishing her. "just— won't— do—!"
Bellatrix makes a face before spinning on her heel to move away again, she's quiet for a few moments, as if deciding something. Luna remains silent, watching her carefully.
"Now it would be a shame if we had to go and punish him for it. But supporting Harry Potter instead of the Dark Lord is... a very serious thing." She hums. "So I have a wonderful idea—! How about you tell us where your friend is, and what he's up to and maybe we can forgive your father—? That sounds fair, doesn't it—?"
Luna inhales softly, a shuddering little breath. After a long moment, her eyes flick to the floor. She remains silent. And suddenly, it's as if a switch has been flicked — the fake-niceties are gone and Bellatrix's breathing grows rapid, enraged. She storms back over, raising her wand and flicking it up to Luna's face, screaming at her—
"TELL ME WHERE POTTER IS OR YOU WILL NEVER SEE YOUR BLOOD TRAITOR FATHER AGAIN—! WE KNOW HE'S CONSPIRING AGAINST THE DARK LORD SOMEHOW—!" Luna tenses up, her eyes huge and glossy, but her lips purse — refusing to speak. Bellatrix tilts her head to one side, her own eyes widening as if to mock her before she scoffs. "Fine. Have it your way, girl."
Bellatrix backs off and with a grin which melts into something ice-cold, she whips her wand in a harsh, striking motion — a jet of red light cracking loudly in the air as she yells "CRUCIO—!"
Luna crumples to her knees like a rag-doll with a shriek of agony, it's as if her body doesn't know what to do. She then falls backwards as Bellatrix holds the curse firm, twisting and tense as she goes into spasm — screaming so loudly it echoes, consumed with blinding pain. It seems to go on for an age until Bellatrix stops, standing over her as Luna trembles on the floor: "WHERE'S POTTER—?!"
But Luna still doesn't answer, even despite the gasping sobs. She scrambles uselessly against the floor, nails digging into the floorboards. And it begins again, another jolt of red light and the air fills with screaming. Each time Bellatrix stops after a while, screeching at her the same questions, and each time Luna doesn't respond.
"TELL ME, GIRL—! WE KNOW YOU'RE POTTER'S FRIEND. HE ONLY HANGS AROUND WITH FILTHY, DIRTY MUDBLOODS AND DISGUSTING BLOOD TRAITORS!"
And still Luna doesn't answer.
The screen glitches, half-static jumping from the scene to more idyllic scene of Luna's bedroom as she's rushing for her Omni from where she'd left it on her desk. The screen continues to glitch out, her face a strange blur of pixels as she fumbles with the device — hurrying to shut it down. But it's clear there's absolute horror and fear in her eyes.
He can't see this, Peter can't see this. She doesn't know who's receiving this, or even if it might be public, all over the network. As she scrambles, she's yelling as loud as she can: ]
Dormiens vas—!
[ The feed promptly shuts off. ]
Luna's manhandled into the room, bedraggled, but not fighting too hard. She's no older than sixteen, small in the wizard's grasp and shoved hard into the center of the room before the dark-haired witch. Luna raises her head to look at Bellatrix Lestrange, unafraid but wary.
"Well, what do we have? Potter's little friend!" Bellatrix coos in sing-song as she sidles up close to Luna, thinly-veiled attempts to be disarming. "I thought maybe you and I could have a nice little chat, hm? Maybe you've had a nice long think in the dungeon, and you might choose to do the right thing here."
Luna doesn't say anything, Bellatrix continues: "Now your dear, darling Daddy's been writing some very unhelpful things about your lovely friend Harry Potter, and that—" She taps Luna's shoulder with her wand playfully punctuate each word, as if admonishing her. "just— won't— do—!"
Bellatrix makes a face before spinning on her heel to move away again, she's quiet for a few moments, as if deciding something. Luna remains silent, watching her carefully.
"Now it would be a shame if we had to go and punish him for it. But supporting Harry Potter instead of the Dark Lord is... a very serious thing." She hums. "So I have a wonderful idea—! How about you tell us where your friend is, and what he's up to and maybe we can forgive your father—? That sounds fair, doesn't it—?"
Luna inhales softly, a shuddering little breath. After a long moment, her eyes flick to the floor. She remains silent. And suddenly, it's as if a switch has been flicked — the fake-niceties are gone and Bellatrix's breathing grows rapid, enraged. She storms back over, raising her wand and flicking it up to Luna's face, screaming at her—
"TELL ME WHERE POTTER IS OR YOU WILL NEVER SEE YOUR BLOOD TRAITOR FATHER AGAIN—! WE KNOW HE'S CONSPIRING AGAINST THE DARK LORD SOMEHOW—!" Luna tenses up, her eyes huge and glossy, but her lips purse — refusing to speak. Bellatrix tilts her head to one side, her own eyes widening as if to mock her before she scoffs. "Fine. Have it your way, girl."
Bellatrix backs off and with a grin which melts into something ice-cold, she whips her wand in a harsh, striking motion — a jet of red light cracking loudly in the air as she yells "CRUCIO—!"
Luna crumples to her knees like a rag-doll with a shriek of agony, it's as if her body doesn't know what to do. She then falls backwards as Bellatrix holds the curse firm, twisting and tense as she goes into spasm — screaming so loudly it echoes, consumed with blinding pain. It seems to go on for an age until Bellatrix stops, standing over her as Luna trembles on the floor: "WHERE'S POTTER—?!"
But Luna still doesn't answer, even despite the gasping sobs. She scrambles uselessly against the floor, nails digging into the floorboards. And it begins again, another jolt of red light and the air fills with screaming. Each time Bellatrix stops after a while, screeching at her the same questions, and each time Luna doesn't respond.
"TELL ME, GIRL—! WE KNOW YOU'RE POTTER'S FRIEND. HE ONLY HANGS AROUND WITH FILTHY, DIRTY MUDBLOODS AND DISGUSTING BLOOD TRAITORS!"
And still Luna doesn't answer.
The screen glitches, half-static jumping from the scene to more idyllic scene of Luna's bedroom as she's rushing for her Omni from where she'd left it on her desk. The screen continues to glitch out, her face a strange blur of pixels as she fumbles with the device — hurrying to shut it down. But it's clear there's absolute horror and fear in her eyes.
He can't see this, Peter can't see this. She doesn't know who's receiving this, or even if it might be public, all over the network. As she scrambles, she's yelling as loud as she can: ]
Dormiens vas—!
[ The feed promptly shuts off. ]
[ It's not the first memory Ange has seen - which helps in one sense, because suddenly seeing this out of context would have been a lot.
Not that it isn't still a lot. Ange has seen so much death and pain and torture that this really isn't anything new to her. It's not the act itself that gets to her, especially when the way Bellatrix acts is exactly what Ange expects from witches. Compared to the ones she's been meeting here from other worlds, Bellatrix is basically the perfect example of what Ange would expect from those awful witches she's used to.
No - what gets to her is the person involved in it, of course. The person this memory belongs to. Ange can feel her blood running almost cold in her veins when she watches it. Luna doesn't deserve this. Not any of this awful stuff. She's much too kind for it. And even though Ange knows those awful witches never care how kind the person they're hurting is, it still feels so wrong, so unfair. It feels even worse to see Luna holding so strong throughout it, refusing to give in, despite the obvious pain the other is in. It's just another sign of how good Luna is, and how little she deserves any of that.
Ange slowly swallows as she witnesses Luna - the actual one - doing what seems like damage repair and prevention at the end there. It makes her wonder about what to do here. Would it be kinder to pretend she never saw it? She doubts Luna wants to talk about such an awful memory.
.. on the other hand, it doesn't feel right to keep mum either, when it means that her friend might not know that Ange saw such a memory in the first place. It'd feel like lying.
So after thinking for a few moments, Ange sends a message. ]
Luna.
I saw the memory. I'm sorry. [ For seeing it, she means. Even though Ange is well aware it's no fault of her own that she got sent that, she still wants to apologize, because it's utterly crappy on this place's end to just send those memories out to other people. To involuntarily share them.
And even more so since Luna didn't seem like she wanted anyone to see that. ]
We can talk about it, if you want. Or not, if you prefer that. I'd get it. [ Given the nature of the memory. More than anything, it just makes her want to respect the other girl's wishes regarding any of it. ] But I do want to say I'm sorry you had to even go through that.
She's exactly what I've experienced witches to be like.
[ Hence her initial awkwardness - way back - about Luna being a witch, though that proved to be an unfounded fear. ]
Not that it isn't still a lot. Ange has seen so much death and pain and torture that this really isn't anything new to her. It's not the act itself that gets to her, especially when the way Bellatrix acts is exactly what Ange expects from witches. Compared to the ones she's been meeting here from other worlds, Bellatrix is basically the perfect example of what Ange would expect from those awful witches she's used to.
No - what gets to her is the person involved in it, of course. The person this memory belongs to. Ange can feel her blood running almost cold in her veins when she watches it. Luna doesn't deserve this. Not any of this awful stuff. She's much too kind for it. And even though Ange knows those awful witches never care how kind the person they're hurting is, it still feels so wrong, so unfair. It feels even worse to see Luna holding so strong throughout it, refusing to give in, despite the obvious pain the other is in. It's just another sign of how good Luna is, and how little she deserves any of that.
Ange slowly swallows as she witnesses Luna - the actual one - doing what seems like damage repair and prevention at the end there. It makes her wonder about what to do here. Would it be kinder to pretend she never saw it? She doubts Luna wants to talk about such an awful memory.
.. on the other hand, it doesn't feel right to keep mum either, when it means that her friend might not know that Ange saw such a memory in the first place. It'd feel like lying.
So after thinking for a few moments, Ange sends a message. ]
Luna.
I saw the memory. I'm sorry. [ For seeing it, she means. Even though Ange is well aware it's no fault of her own that she got sent that, she still wants to apologize, because it's utterly crappy on this place's end to just send those memories out to other people. To involuntarily share them.
And even more so since Luna didn't seem like she wanted anyone to see that. ]
We can talk about it, if you want. Or not, if you prefer that. I'd get it. [ Given the nature of the memory. More than anything, it just makes her want to respect the other girl's wishes regarding any of it. ] But I do want to say I'm sorry you had to even go through that.
She's exactly what I've experienced witches to be like.
[ Hence her initial awkwardness - way back - about Luna being a witch, though that proved to be an unfounded fear. ]
[ falco had a lot of free time in south sister— and the video pans to show just where he is, walking along a trail of trees with a backpack in tow. he’d been approaching generators and whirling machinery, stopping to jot it down on an amateur attempt at a map (but still very detailed). he stops, double takes in his writing when he sees a smudge on the ground: streaks of red in the middle of the street, leading into a building. it looks as if someone has been dragged—
falco’s boots hit the ground fast as the shatter of glass from the rooftop had urged him to yank at the railing and even skip steps to further climb. he’d simply hoped that he wasn’t too late to help anyone. he comes bursting through the rooftop’s door left ajar, heaving steady but with harder breaths, scanning erratically for the rest of the trail—
until he froze, right there, the color seeping from his face when he’s pinpointed the body closest with its chest left agape, synthetic skin pulled back and blue, blue fluid splattered like blood would, and— he can’t feel himself. rationality doesn’t help him to realize what he was looking at was a machine, not when he’d been one of the most human things to him. it had a man's face, well kept and pristine. something at the back of his mind tells him to look for more, the true blood belonged to someone else. there was a man up ahead, standing tall, alive and armed, with someone slumped there beside him.
but all the boy could do as his eyes glazed with a watery sheen was falter, bend to his knees, and quickly look for something that can turn connor on or fill the hole in his chest: ]
Mister Connor—? [ he calls out already pleading to hear a return and it wouldn’t come. he takes the android’s hand, lifts his sleeve— and when the braids of a red and blue paracord bracelet peek out from underneath the cuff, identical to the one falco wears, the boy’s lips squeeze together, hazel eyes wide and lost and again, he begs as his chest burns and his throat strains. ] Connor . . . ? No . . .
[ he’s lost someone, important, again, and with everything he had . . . He couldn’t do a thing his predecessor could do. "...i'm sorry," the priest with silver hair and glasses finally forces the words out past the lump in his throat. "it was... too late, by the time I found them. this man here is still alive, but he's barely holding on."
he's breathing hard. the last in-control action he takes is to lift his hand to his lips, wondering vaguely if he'd taken a hit whilst running still with his adrenaline, which wanders close to his eyes. it tasted like iron. the vessels webbing his sclera seep into sudden darkness that's nearly black, purple. tears stain his cheeks and dribble to the floor, as he stands and makes an immediate walk towards the priest and downed man. ]
Why . . . Didn't you come faster . . . ? [ the inquiry is irrational, broken, and then comes a yell, hot and hostile, prying his hands into his own hair and dragging down his temple, past his neck with uncomfortably stiffened fingers: ][ despite the priest's apologies and attempts at shifting focus to the injured man, falco doesn’t bat a lash, he doesn’t blink, he only storms forward and comes upon him with both hands, shoving the adult's midsection back with a surprising amount of strength— enough that even he stumbles back from his own momentum. ]
Sorry isn’t going to take back what he felt!! What can you do?! [ He charges, once more, this time with his head low and his arms swinging. ] You and Hank! You didn’t do anything for him! You both should’ve died instead!
[ the words are seethed, spat, sobbed— everything that would never be falco as he attempts to slam his forehead into the man’s gut and grips so tightly with his hands, his straining little fingers that almost seem to spasm from how much they curl. if he gets anywhere near skin, his nails could leave burning streaks in the wake of his frenzy.
the priest is stumbling backwards at the ferocity of the child's onslaught; it almost looked like he was retreating in fear. he lifts his hands in some effort to placate him, but all he can manage to do is hesitate just short of touching him as if terrified he would hurt him if he tried to offer comfort. instead, he gently seizes the wrists of violently shaking hands where they've balled into the fabric of the priest's cassock, and though he knows the gesture isn't coming from the person he needs it from, the priest, abel, pulls the shaking child into a tight hug as much to keep him from hurting himself as to try and calm him. but The Silence shrieks with falco's voice, thrashes in the arms of the priest to be released as if he were getting burned. ]
Let go! Let go of me!
[ the boy kicks, throws his head sideways, bends and contorts uncomfortably and with complete disregard for what hurt and what didn’t. he struggles and screams, pours an unbelievable amount of ire from his center and garbles something harsh and unnatural, alien: p͑ͥû̧̋͌̏ņi̫̲͍sḧ̵̹́ ̨͛̒͆h͖ḭm̫̠̎̒. he kicks the priest's shins. he spits on his face. he tosses his head forward and sinks his teeth through the clothes of the man’s shoulders, biting his god damn hardest whilst screaming, screaming, screaming—
"falco?" the android that was once dead on the roof before them is standing by the doorway, reborn, alive. "falco, please stop. what's gotten into you?"
his name is said but he can't hear it, not when he's yowling through the spaces of his teeth, hoping for a draw of blood, or maybe even taking something the more his jaws sank and he pulled. he inhaled deeply from his nostrils, prepared to scream and bite again through hysterical sobbing until he saw movement. it flickered, it sounded like connor—
wide eyes stained with the gunk of purple veins lift, as does his mouth release with streams of dense saliva to swerve his attention to the android. ]
Connor . . . ? [ his resistance and fighting cease, his body slumps in the arms of the priest at the same time abel decides to best loosen his hold. the timing was right. he sees the bracelet. falco shoves himself off the other's chest and dashes into the midsection of his housemate, tackling into him, but shuddering into an embrace so tight he didn't want to let go for who knew how long. muffled into fabric which would probably come up wet after (the tears don't stop and his face is an absolute, snotty-tear mess), the boy turns his cheek to press in. the behavior is quelled, out of the blue and so suddenly it's almost bizarre. ] Connor, who did that to you—?
[ "it— it doesn't matter. i'm back now. what happened to your eyes?" it doesn’t matter? the silence hones in on that with a shaking head, no, no, no, nothing else mattered except that— ]
Of course it matters. They, they need to be . . .
[ falco begins to mutter and uncomfortably scrape his nails at his arm. what was he doing again? he fidgets his fingers, or wills them to, and to his face comes a creeping horror that choked the air he breathed into a little squeak. all of that, just now, the priest, hank—
he wants to cry. he wants to cry all over again but sucks it in deep. the disbelief for what has happened is tucked away, and quietly, falco covers his mouth as he takes a small half step back. he did all that. hazel eyes dart from connor to abel, to somewhere just beyond them as his vision glazes.
he couldn’t bring himself to say what had happened, or what was wrong. he only points, and wants to leave before something else happened but he’s still frozen cold. the palpable shake in his voice comes, but it’s measured. it’s controlled and forced out from the thick curtains of the fright he felt: ]
I-I think . . . Mister Hank needs help.
[ they tend quickly to the man, losing so much blood until now. horrified, falco only watches them— he leaves a first aid kit by the priest's feet, and runs away. with a hushed sob through hiccuping words, falco stops by the base of a tree and squeezes a hand against his chest: why did i do that—? the feed clicks to an end after that. ]
falco’s boots hit the ground fast as the shatter of glass from the rooftop had urged him to yank at the railing and even skip steps to further climb. he’d simply hoped that he wasn’t too late to help anyone. he comes bursting through the rooftop’s door left ajar, heaving steady but with harder breaths, scanning erratically for the rest of the trail—
until he froze, right there, the color seeping from his face when he’s pinpointed the body closest with its chest left agape, synthetic skin pulled back and blue, blue fluid splattered like blood would, and— he can’t feel himself. rationality doesn’t help him to realize what he was looking at was a machine, not when he’d been one of the most human things to him. it had a man's face, well kept and pristine. something at the back of his mind tells him to look for more, the true blood belonged to someone else. there was a man up ahead, standing tall, alive and armed, with someone slumped there beside him.
but all the boy could do as his eyes glazed with a watery sheen was falter, bend to his knees, and quickly look for something that can turn connor on or fill the hole in his chest: ]
Mister Connor—? [ he calls out already pleading to hear a return and it wouldn’t come. he takes the android’s hand, lifts his sleeve— and when the braids of a red and blue paracord bracelet peek out from underneath the cuff, identical to the one falco wears, the boy’s lips squeeze together, hazel eyes wide and lost and again, he begs as his chest burns and his throat strains. ] Connor . . . ? No . . .
[ he’s lost someone, important, again, and with everything he had . . . He couldn’t do a thing his predecessor could do. "...i'm sorry," the priest with silver hair and glasses finally forces the words out past the lump in his throat. "it was... too late, by the time I found them. this man here is still alive, but he's barely holding on."
he's breathing hard. the last in-control action he takes is to lift his hand to his lips, wondering vaguely if he'd taken a hit whilst running still with his adrenaline, which wanders close to his eyes. it tasted like iron. the vessels webbing his sclera seep into sudden darkness that's nearly black, purple. tears stain his cheeks and dribble to the floor, as he stands and makes an immediate walk towards the priest and downed man. ]
Why . . . Didn't you come faster . . . ? [ the inquiry is irrational, broken, and then comes a yell, hot and hostile, prying his hands into his own hair and dragging down his temple, past his neck with uncomfortably stiffened fingers: ][ despite the priest's apologies and attempts at shifting focus to the injured man, falco doesn’t bat a lash, he doesn’t blink, he only storms forward and comes upon him with both hands, shoving the adult's midsection back with a surprising amount of strength— enough that even he stumbles back from his own momentum. ]
Sorry isn’t going to take back what he felt!! What can you do?! [ He charges, once more, this time with his head low and his arms swinging. ] You and Hank! You didn’t do anything for him! You both should’ve died instead!
[ the words are seethed, spat, sobbed— everything that would never be falco as he attempts to slam his forehead into the man’s gut and grips so tightly with his hands, his straining little fingers that almost seem to spasm from how much they curl. if he gets anywhere near skin, his nails could leave burning streaks in the wake of his frenzy.
the priest is stumbling backwards at the ferocity of the child's onslaught; it almost looked like he was retreating in fear. he lifts his hands in some effort to placate him, but all he can manage to do is hesitate just short of touching him as if terrified he would hurt him if he tried to offer comfort. instead, he gently seizes the wrists of violently shaking hands where they've balled into the fabric of the priest's cassock, and though he knows the gesture isn't coming from the person he needs it from, the priest, abel, pulls the shaking child into a tight hug as much to keep him from hurting himself as to try and calm him. but The Silence shrieks with falco's voice, thrashes in the arms of the priest to be released as if he were getting burned. ]
Let go! Let go of me!
[ the boy kicks, throws his head sideways, bends and contorts uncomfortably and with complete disregard for what hurt and what didn’t. he struggles and screams, pours an unbelievable amount of ire from his center and garbles something harsh and unnatural, alien: p͑ͥû̧̋͌̏ņi̫̲͍sḧ̵̹́ ̨͛̒͆h͖ḭm̫̠̎̒. he kicks the priest's shins. he spits on his face. he tosses his head forward and sinks his teeth through the clothes of the man’s shoulders, biting his god damn hardest whilst screaming, screaming, screaming—
"falco?" the android that was once dead on the roof before them is standing by the doorway, reborn, alive. "falco, please stop. what's gotten into you?"
his name is said but he can't hear it, not when he's yowling through the spaces of his teeth, hoping for a draw of blood, or maybe even taking something the more his jaws sank and he pulled. he inhaled deeply from his nostrils, prepared to scream and bite again through hysterical sobbing until he saw movement. it flickered, it sounded like connor—
wide eyes stained with the gunk of purple veins lift, as does his mouth release with streams of dense saliva to swerve his attention to the android. ]
Connor . . . ? [ his resistance and fighting cease, his body slumps in the arms of the priest at the same time abel decides to best loosen his hold. the timing was right. he sees the bracelet. falco shoves himself off the other's chest and dashes into the midsection of his housemate, tackling into him, but shuddering into an embrace so tight he didn't want to let go for who knew how long. muffled into fabric which would probably come up wet after (the tears don't stop and his face is an absolute, snotty-tear mess), the boy turns his cheek to press in. the behavior is quelled, out of the blue and so suddenly it's almost bizarre. ] Connor, who did that to you—?
[ "it— it doesn't matter. i'm back now. what happened to your eyes?" it doesn’t matter? the silence hones in on that with a shaking head, no, no, no, nothing else mattered except that— ]
Of course it matters. They, they need to be . . .
[ falco begins to mutter and uncomfortably scrape his nails at his arm. what was he doing again? he fidgets his fingers, or wills them to, and to his face comes a creeping horror that choked the air he breathed into a little squeak. all of that, just now, the priest, hank—
he wants to cry. he wants to cry all over again but sucks it in deep. the disbelief for what has happened is tucked away, and quietly, falco covers his mouth as he takes a small half step back. he did all that. hazel eyes dart from connor to abel, to somewhere just beyond them as his vision glazes.
he couldn’t bring himself to say what had happened, or what was wrong. he only points, and wants to leave before something else happened but he’s still frozen cold. the palpable shake in his voice comes, but it’s measured. it’s controlled and forced out from the thick curtains of the fright he felt: ]
I-I think . . . Mister Hank needs help.
[ they tend quickly to the man, losing so much blood until now. horrified, falco only watches them— he leaves a first aid kit by the priest's feet, and runs away. with a hushed sob through hiccuping words, falco stops by the base of a tree and squeezes a hand against his chest: why did i do that—? the feed clicks to an end after that. ]
Edited 2022-05-30 21:34 (UTC)
[ It's certainly not the first memory Ange has seen - but it's sure an intense one. It does seem to be a pattern between all these various memories, making it a good thing that the girl has a pretty strong stomach and lots of experience with screwed up things.
And she can't help but watch this entire memory. It's a little on the long side, but she keeps watching. Maybe exactly because it's Falco, and maybe exactly because of what she knows about the boy. He always seems like he's been through a lot, and she's still interested in the nature of the entity possessing him, and what can be done about it to make things easier for him.
At first she assumes this memory has nothing to do with the latter though. It just seems to be Falco going through something emotionally distressing - which also sucks, but in a bit more of a mundane way. An awful mundane way.
But then there's the priest, and the boy lashing out in a way that a young man like him certainly shouldn't be capable of. Especially not when, as far as Ange knows, Falco seems relatively mild-mannered. Certainly not the type of boy to just leap right onto someone and start attacking them for his entire life's worth.
(Then again, those eyes, the other signs--
It's about that entity after all.)
Ange ponders for a moment after the memory is over whether or not to message Falco. But it's not like she can just pretend she never saw this, right? Not when this moment is probably something he wouldn't have wanted anyone else to see.
It's better to be honest.
So Ange decides to just call the other. ]
Falco. [ Her tone sounds fairly serious already.. So ominous.. ] Do you have a moment to talk?
And she can't help but watch this entire memory. It's a little on the long side, but she keeps watching. Maybe exactly because it's Falco, and maybe exactly because of what she knows about the boy. He always seems like he's been through a lot, and she's still interested in the nature of the entity possessing him, and what can be done about it to make things easier for him.
At first she assumes this memory has nothing to do with the latter though. It just seems to be Falco going through something emotionally distressing - which also sucks, but in a bit more of a mundane way. An awful mundane way.
But then there's the priest, and the boy lashing out in a way that a young man like him certainly shouldn't be capable of. Especially not when, as far as Ange knows, Falco seems relatively mild-mannered. Certainly not the type of boy to just leap right onto someone and start attacking them for his entire life's worth.
(Then again, those eyes, the other signs--
It's about that entity after all.)
Ange ponders for a moment after the memory is over whether or not to message Falco. But it's not like she can just pretend she never saw this, right? Not when this moment is probably something he wouldn't have wanted anyone else to see.
It's better to be honest.
So Ange decides to just call the other. ]
Falco. [ Her tone sounds fairly serious already.. So ominous.. ] Do you have a moment to talk?
[ Jessica had spent over a month and a half training every day for that tournament, seeking in it not just the thrill of accomplishment and pride in her growing skill, but also, she hoped, a kind of emotional resolution. A new perspective and a new relationship with the past. She received that, sure enough. The pieces of that resolution were already there, within reach all along, but that fight with Sayo had been the catalyst to put them together, look at them from a new angle. And in that picture, after all the sorrow, was peace. And love.
All of that is to say, leaving aside the more psychological changes, she made the decision to reconnect with Sayo. She doesn't regret that. She'd never regret that. But she knows that it won't make Ange happy, learning that the family that had finally returned to her after twelve torturous, lonely years, was reconciling with the one who had plunged her into that hell, had lied to her face and betrayed her trust, afterwards.
Jessica has historically been pretty bad about having the important, weighty conversations that needed to be had, but that's why it's all the more important that she tell Ange directly. That cowardice had indirectly played a part on causing Ange's loneliness, and after Sayo had wounded her again with treachery, Jessica flatly refused to idea of hiding from Ange.
I need to talk to you about something later.
There's no comforting way to say that, and she was never very good at subtlety, so that's the message that she sends. No emojis, none of Jessica's usual playful energy. Just those words, cold and unadorned.
The meeting ends up taking place in her room, in the late morning after breakfast. She'd wanted to do it later, but she's not sure she could bear sitting down to dinner with Ange while she held that secret. It would chew a hole through her chest. Jessica is sitting crosslegged on her bed when Ange comes in, holding a pillow protectively against her chest. The color had long returned to her face after the spell of corruption she'd suffered during her training, but nevertheless she looks dour enough that one could almost think it had returned.
She sucks in a deep breath. ]
...Hey, Ange-chan. Sorry to spring this on you so suddenly. Um... go ahead and sit down.
All of that is to say, leaving aside the more psychological changes, she made the decision to reconnect with Sayo. She doesn't regret that. She'd never regret that. But she knows that it won't make Ange happy, learning that the family that had finally returned to her after twelve torturous, lonely years, was reconciling with the one who had plunged her into that hell, had lied to her face and betrayed her trust, afterwards.
Jessica has historically been pretty bad about having the important, weighty conversations that needed to be had, but that's why it's all the more important that she tell Ange directly. That cowardice had indirectly played a part on causing Ange's loneliness, and after Sayo had wounded her again with treachery, Jessica flatly refused to idea of hiding from Ange.
I need to talk to you about something later.
There's no comforting way to say that, and she was never very good at subtlety, so that's the message that she sends. No emojis, none of Jessica's usual playful energy. Just those words, cold and unadorned.
The meeting ends up taking place in her room, in the late morning after breakfast. She'd wanted to do it later, but she's not sure she could bear sitting down to dinner with Ange while she held that secret. It would chew a hole through her chest. Jessica is sitting crosslegged on her bed when Ange comes in, holding a pillow protectively against her chest. The color had long returned to her face after the spell of corruption she'd suffered during her training, but nevertheless she looks dour enough that one could almost think it had returned.
She sucks in a deep breath. ]
...Hey, Ange-chan. Sorry to spring this on you so suddenly. Um... go ahead and sit down.
[ .. well.
Ange is pretty sure that even less observant people than her would easily be able to tell that something about this is bad news. Even the text by itself easily suggests as much, since she knows Jessica would have sent a way airier text if it wasn't about something serious. And then there's the way the other girl looks from the very moment Ange enters her room..
The other definitely always wears her feelings on her sleeve. Every single thing about Jessica, from her facial expression to her body language to her tone, screams that something is wrong.
Ange, on the other hand, feels an instant wave of anxiety coming up but opts to not show it. Even though she's definitely worried about what the bad news could be, considering Jessica is so important to her, Ange knows it's not going to do any good when both of them would just start to look worried here.
It means she impressively managed to hide any and all anxiety behind her usual pokerface when she moves to sit down on the bed - though not right next to the other girl, instead at the very end of the bed, closer towards the door. Ange folds her hands into her lap, careful not to fidget, though she feels the urge. ]
It's fine. It's not like I didn't tell you to talk about difficult stuff. [ Rather than avoiding people. That had been their conclusion to that talk the other month, when Jessica had seemed to be doing so bad..
She even manages to keep her tone very carefully neutral. ]
Go ahead and tell me. What's wrong?
Ange is pretty sure that even less observant people than her would easily be able to tell that something about this is bad news. Even the text by itself easily suggests as much, since she knows Jessica would have sent a way airier text if it wasn't about something serious. And then there's the way the other girl looks from the very moment Ange enters her room..
The other definitely always wears her feelings on her sleeve. Every single thing about Jessica, from her facial expression to her body language to her tone, screams that something is wrong.
Ange, on the other hand, feels an instant wave of anxiety coming up but opts to not show it. Even though she's definitely worried about what the bad news could be, considering Jessica is so important to her, Ange knows it's not going to do any good when both of them would just start to look worried here.
It means she impressively managed to hide any and all anxiety behind her usual pokerface when she moves to sit down on the bed - though not right next to the other girl, instead at the very end of the bed, closer towards the door. Ange folds her hands into her lap, careful not to fidget, though she feels the urge. ]
It's fine. It's not like I didn't tell you to talk about difficult stuff. [ Rather than avoiding people. That had been their conclusion to that talk the other month, when Jessica had seemed to be doing so bad..
She even manages to keep her tone very carefully neutral. ]
Go ahead and tell me. What's wrong?
cw: attempted child murder. attempted immolation / death (including murder and suicide) by fire. involuntary actions / sleepwalking. themes of mercy killing involved.
The memory begins with the sound of a match being struck.
Suddenly, the darkness is illuminated by a small orange flame. A bedroom is revealed, still and quiet.
Two bodies sleep side by side in a single bed. A young boy (fourteen, dark-haired), and a younger girl (eleven, hair strawberry blonde, just like the woman).
The woman stands next to the boy's side of the bed. She is completely still, and her eyes are staring straight ahead. In one hand, a box of matches. In the other, the single, lit stick.
The sound of it wakes the boy, and his eyes open — at first confused, glossy with the haze of sleep, then abruptly widening. They lock onto the match and he's quickly sitting up in bed. Confusion turns to horror. Horror turns to fear. Every nerve in his body tightens, locks; it's painful for seconds, then it's numb.
There's a smell in the room. An odd smell, pungent. Chemical.
The woman is covered in something wet, slick. It shines in her hair, plasters it to her head. It glistens over her face. It's on her lips and neck, and her night clothes are soaked through with it. Down, down, where a pool of the fluid collects beneath the soles of her feet.
The young boy is covered in wet, too. And beside him, the sleeping little girl's hair shines with the same wetness.
The boy begins to scream. The sound tears out of his throat, cracks wide open with a cry; his fear sounds more animal than human.
He knows what the chemical smell is. Mom uses it in her work. Mom, it's Mom. Mom is standing right next to the bed. He and Charlie are soaking wet, and the smell's so strong it hurts, and Mom is holding a match in her hand—
The woman wakes as soon as the boy starts screaming; she blinks widely, stunned, confused. Then horrified — she's putting out the match with trembling hands, dropping the box of them; they hit the empty can of paint thinner that sits near her feet. The boy is looking up at her like she's a monster. Her hands are flying to her wet face, sticky against her mouth; she's moaning. She, too, sounds like an animal.
But for a moment, she looks afraid of him. For a moment, something slips through; her eyes are wild in her fear towards her son. The boy and the woman exist as a mirror of each other. They've never been more afraid of anything than what they're both seeing.
(Is she more afraid of what she's almost done, or more afraid that she didn't finish it?)
Peter, oh, Peter no— I didn't mean— I was sleepwalking! I was asleep!
The boy is screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming.
The memory abruptly ends, with the sharp smell of paint thinner and the lingering sulfur of a quickly-snuffed match.
[ The memories just keep arriving on these devices lately, don't they. Every time Ange thinks it may be the last time, she happens to pick up her device only for it to start playing something like that to her again.
It's always people she recognizes too. Here, as well, she sees the children in the bed, and while she doesn't recognize one of them, the other one is clearly recognizable to her. Maybe different from the Peter she knows, years younger, yet visibly the same person.
And then the scene plays out. And - by god, does it tighten up some feeling in Ange's chest. Tighter and tighter, like something is going to burst. It's not even the horrifying scene by itself, two children almost burnt alive right there, but it's the implications. It's the mess of the intersection between family and murder that lies at the root of every single one of Ange's own traumas, and she has to breathe very deeply a few times to not let it break her down.
She can't. It can't, not right now.
There's something else she has to do, after all. Quickly.
Ange immediately looks up Peter on her device, calling him. He has to know what's going on here - especially since Ange can only imagine how much the guy would freak out knowing that this is being sent to other people. Maybe it's not even just her, after all. ]
Peter. [ There's something tight in Ange's voice. She's managed to thankfully mask most of her emotion by the time he picks up, but she can't fully erase all trace of the fact that there's definitely something urgent on her mind here as she speaks. ] The Omnis. They're-- They're showing your memories. I thought you'd want to know.
It's always people she recognizes too. Here, as well, she sees the children in the bed, and while she doesn't recognize one of them, the other one is clearly recognizable to her. Maybe different from the Peter she knows, years younger, yet visibly the same person.
And then the scene plays out. And - by god, does it tighten up some feeling in Ange's chest. Tighter and tighter, like something is going to burst. It's not even the horrifying scene by itself, two children almost burnt alive right there, but it's the implications. It's the mess of the intersection between family and murder that lies at the root of every single one of Ange's own traumas, and she has to breathe very deeply a few times to not let it break her down.
She can't. It can't, not right now.
There's something else she has to do, after all. Quickly.
Ange immediately looks up Peter on her device, calling him. He has to know what's going on here - especially since Ange can only imagine how much the guy would freak out knowing that this is being sent to other people. Maybe it's not even just her, after all. ]
Peter. [ There's something tight in Ange's voice. She's managed to thankfully mask most of her emotion by the time he picks up, but she can't fully erase all trace of the fact that there's definitely something urgent on her mind here as she speaks. ] The Omnis. They're-- They're showing your memories. I thought you'd want to know.
SHOWS UP OVER A MONTH LATE WITH STARBUCKS but it's rotten by now.... (cw: abuse things)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
possessum
- 2022-09-04 02:28 (UTC) - Expanddo you want some side of tl;dr with that rotten starbucks... cw: more abuse talk
entreats
- 2022-09-04 19:03 (UTC) - ExpandAAAAAAANGGEEEEE-CHAAAAAAN!!!! HAAAAAPPPYYY BIIIIIRRRTTHHHHDDAAAAAYYYYY!!!!!!!!! I HOPE YOU HAVE AN AMAZING BIRTHDAY! If Ruru doesn't kidnap you for the day I'm gonna take you out to lunch, okay?
[And, should Ange go to check her doorstep, in a small but BRIGHT pink box with a black ribbon is a card that has all sorts of doodles of Usagi and Ange together wishing the redhead a happy birthday and explaining how much she loves her.
While the box is not really Ange's style, worry not, for inside the box are two sets of earrings more to Ange's taste (though it's very clear Usagi's personality influenced the whole design.)]
[And, should Ange go to check her doorstep, in a small but BRIGHT pink box with a black ribbon is a card that has all sorts of doodles of Usagi and Ange together wishing the redhead a happy birthday and explaining how much she loves her.
While the box is not really Ange's style, worry not, for inside the box are two sets of earrings more to Ange's taste (though it's very clear Usagi's personality influenced the whole design.)]
[ Oh god, this is.. so much. So loud. It's something Ange has trouble handling even under perfect circumstances, but when she's been so relatively tired this month, it's.. a lot.
Still, she gets the sentiment. And everything about it is very Usagi. And the fact that the other thought about her birthday and actually remembered it is.. very sweet, so it's not like she can just ignore it.
So Usagi will at least get a message back from Ange. ]
Thank you. Both for the birthday wishes [ THOUGH THEY WERE SO LOUD.... ] and the gift. Those moon earrings are really cool.
[ And she actually means that! Usagi did really take Ange's own style into account as well.
Which is why it's so much easier to address the earrings compared to the sappy, sappy card. ]
I'll make sure to wear them.
Still, she gets the sentiment. And everything about it is very Usagi. And the fact that the other thought about her birthday and actually remembered it is.. very sweet, so it's not like she can just ignore it.
So Usagi will at least get a message back from Ange. ]
Thank you. Both for the birthday wishes [ THOUGH THEY WERE SO LOUD.... ] and the gift. Those moon earrings are really cool.
[ And she actually means that! Usagi did really take Ange's own style into account as well.
Which is why it's so much easier to address the earrings compared to the sappy, sappy card. ]
I'll make sure to wear them.
( Perks of having a connection with an ancient demon of Secrets and Knowledge....?
He knows the important date associated with Ange's spirit. With her birth — not her rebirth into Trench, but before that... when she came to be.
And so... for the Golden Witch... an item will be left outside her home. Wrapped up in a few big leaves is a little doll, clearly crafted from various odds and ends. The head appears to be a pincushion; the legs are pieces of wood... there's a key, part of a spoon, a tin cup, a wooden knob, a beaded bracelet... It looks like something that came from a magpie's nest.
If there were any doubts about who this odd gift is from (and which witchly resident it's meant for), Paimon's sigil has been etched onto one of the leaves... in bright blue crayon. Happy Birthday, Ange! )
He knows the important date associated with Ange's spirit. With her birth — not her rebirth into Trench, but before that... when she came to be.
And so... for the Golden Witch... an item will be left outside her home. Wrapped up in a few big leaves is a little doll, clearly crafted from various odds and ends. The head appears to be a pincushion; the legs are pieces of wood... there's a key, part of a spoon, a tin cup, a wooden knob, a beaded bracelet... It looks like something that came from a magpie's nest.
If there were any doubts about who this odd gift is from (and which witchly resident it's meant for), Paimon's sigil has been etched onto one of the leaves... in bright blue crayon. Happy Birthday, Ange! )
Edited 2022-06-17 13:19 (UTC)
[ At first Ange isn't sure how to feel about this tiny little thing she's found outside. It could be something this place was starting to spawn during this particular month, after all..
But as the girl holds the tiny doll in her hands and turns it over, she notices the sigil on it - and that instantly explains everything to her. It makes Paimon's involvement clear, after all, and Ange doesn't think the demon would be dropping off tiny dolls randomly..
.. and probably less so when today is her birthday, huh.
It makes all suspicion about the doll disappear. Instead Ange turns it right side up again, and it's so.. weirdly cute. The kind of weird Ange can appreciate, and she immediately takes it inside to put it up for display.
She kind of wants to send a message of thanks, but feels like it'd be pretty weird for Peter to just receive messages meant for the demon on his Omni.. So Ange goes with something a little different.
It means a very stoic eagle - Ange's Omen - will drop by Peter and Luna's house later in the day, tapping on a window until said window is opened so it can leave a letter behind. There's a fancy wax seal on it with Ange's family's symbol, and she's written 'For Paimon' on the envelope, just so Peter knows he can leave it for the demon to read sometime..
The simple message inside the letter is: ]
Dear Paimon,
Thank you for the thoughtful gift. It's really cute, so I will make sure to treasure it. I'm very glad to see that you're picking up such nice hobbies in this place too. You have some real talent!
- Ange
[ Look, it's not even empty flattery.. She means it, okay. Ange is into this vaguely creepy yet cute doll aesthetic, apparently. And she always wants to encourage her favourite otherworldly demon pal. ]
But as the girl holds the tiny doll in her hands and turns it over, she notices the sigil on it - and that instantly explains everything to her. It makes Paimon's involvement clear, after all, and Ange doesn't think the demon would be dropping off tiny dolls randomly..
.. and probably less so when today is her birthday, huh.
It makes all suspicion about the doll disappear. Instead Ange turns it right side up again, and it's so.. weirdly cute. The kind of weird Ange can appreciate, and she immediately takes it inside to put it up for display.
She kind of wants to send a message of thanks, but feels like it'd be pretty weird for Peter to just receive messages meant for the demon on his Omni.. So Ange goes with something a little different.
It means a very stoic eagle - Ange's Omen - will drop by Peter and Luna's house later in the day, tapping on a window until said window is opened so it can leave a letter behind. There's a fancy wax seal on it with Ange's family's symbol, and she's written 'For Paimon' on the envelope, just so Peter knows he can leave it for the demon to read sometime..
The simple message inside the letter is: ]
Dear Paimon,
Thank you for the thoughtful gift. It's really cute, so I will make sure to treasure it. I'm very glad to see that you're picking up such nice hobbies in this place too. You have some real talent!
- Ange
[ Look, it's not even empty flattery.. She means it, okay. Ange is into this vaguely creepy yet cute doll aesthetic, apparently. And she always wants to encourage her favourite otherworldly demon pal. ]
[on the morning of the sixth, ange receives a note taped to her door.]
Ange,
Running up a hill to make a deal with a god. I'm sorry that I couldn't keep my promise. See you in a week. Love you.
-a.a
[there is a similar note addressed to ruby rose beneath this one.]
Ange,
Running up a hill to make a deal with a god. I'm sorry that I couldn't keep my promise. See you in a week. Love you.
-a.a
[there is a similar note addressed to ruby rose beneath this one.]
Edited 2022-07-05 16:04 (UTC)
[ There are no words for how much reading the note makes Ange's heart absolutely sink. Because of the implications of what will happen to Anna for one, which hurts so bad, but then there's also the extra pain about the part in the middle, where Anna says she's sorry she couldn't keep her promise.
It hurts to know that Anna is probably going to die and there's not a single thing Ange can do about it. But the side of abandonment that comes with it feels even worse, like sticking a knife right into her trauma and twisting it, especially so soon after making that promise in the first place. And even more so by not having the guts to tell it to her face, instead just leaving a note like this about it. They could've talked. They could've at least said a temporary goodbye, rather than Ange having to hear about the death of a loved one through a cold announcement all over again.
It's such a casual and painful betrayal, and Ange finds herself reeling to not give in to the wild corruption that threatens to take control of her heart.
By the time Anna is in any state again to check her Omni, there will only be one message from Ange waiting for her, sent days after the initial incident. ]
i can't believe you left me alone just like everyone else has
[ There's nothing else. ]
It hurts to know that Anna is probably going to die and there's not a single thing Ange can do about it. But the side of abandonment that comes with it feels even worse, like sticking a knife right into her trauma and twisting it, especially so soon after making that promise in the first place. And even more so by not having the guts to tell it to her face, instead just leaving a note like this about it. They could've talked. They could've at least said a temporary goodbye, rather than Ange having to hear about the death of a loved one through a cold announcement all over again.
It's such a casual and painful betrayal, and Ange finds herself reeling to not give in to the wild corruption that threatens to take control of her heart.
By the time Anna is in any state again to check her Omni, there will only be one message from Ange waiting for her, sent days after the initial incident. ]
i can't believe you left me alone just like everyone else has
[ There's nothing else. ]
if you and Ruby need a place to stay, my door's open
even if you don't it still is
even if you don't it still is
[ There's definitely a full day of just.. no answer. Nothing. There's not even a 'read' checkmark on the message or anything along those lines.
But the next day, there's finally: ]
Richie
Sorry
[ Not exactly Ange's usual typing style, but she's still out of it. ]
You heard about the house??
But the next day, there's finally: ]
Richie
Sorry
[ Not exactly Ange's usual typing style, but she's still out of it. ]
You heard about the house??
Text UN: ClickClickBloom After the House Burns down while still kidnapped
onekindsoul
2022-07-20 08:51 pm (UTC)(link)
Hey girl, it's your girl.
Just letting you know that I'm okay.
And I'm really super worried about you.
I'm not feeling a whole lot through our bond but I felt some really weird monstery things earlier.
I'm unfortunately not going to be able to check in on your right now.
I'm a little uh- tied up at the moment? Kinda sorta figuratively and literally.
But I made a deal with the person holding me that they wouldn't cause any trouble to the people I cared for if they didn't try to come get me.
So I'm going to try and escape here.
I will hopefully see you soon.
Probably wont be allowed to send a response so hugs and kisses!
XOXOXOXO
You're Pal
Ruby Rose.
Just letting you know that I'm okay.
And I'm really super worried about you.
I'm not feeling a whole lot through our bond but I felt some really weird monstery things earlier.
I'm unfortunately not going to be able to check in on your right now.
I'm a little uh- tied up at the moment? Kinda sorta figuratively and literally.
But I made a deal with the person holding me that they wouldn't cause any trouble to the people I cared for if they didn't try to come get me.
So I'm going to try and escape here.
I will hopefully see you soon.
Probably wont be allowed to send a response so hugs and kisses!
XOXOXOXO
You're Pal
Ruby Rose.
[ Somewhere in the middle of the haze that is the period between beasting out and Ruby ending up at the house with Break and his kids, Ange does read this message - even if she doesn't respond, partially since it does say there likely wouldn't be a response even if Ange did reply, and partially since her head is currently very little more than a pile of goo.
It means the worry is still there in her heart. At least this message means that it is true that Ruby is still alive, rather than the worse alternative that Ange feared so much back during that chaos, but even in her current state Ange can still parse that the situation on Ruby's end doesn't exactly sound good from what the girl wrote.
Still.. even with the worry raging in her heart, Ange is still much too tired and overwhelmed from the chaos, especially since it's so soon after.
It means that, rather than a reply over the Omni, Ruby may just hear a faint 'Ruby..' in her head, the sense of Ange calling her name across their bond, before things go quiet again.
She definitely fell back asleep from the sheer exhaustion. ]
It means the worry is still there in her heart. At least this message means that it is true that Ruby is still alive, rather than the worse alternative that Ange feared so much back during that chaos, but even in her current state Ange can still parse that the situation on Ruby's end doesn't exactly sound good from what the girl wrote.
Still.. even with the worry raging in her heart, Ange is still much too tired and overwhelmed from the chaos, especially since it's so soon after.
It means that, rather than a reply over the Omni, Ruby may just hear a faint 'Ruby..' in her head, the sense of Ange calling her name across their bond, before things go quiet again.
She definitely fell back asleep from the sheer exhaustion. ]
EXTREMELY backdated to early july, before clockhouse burns down
commediadellarte
2022-07-26 01:53 pm (UTC)(link)
[When Ange enters the room where she's to meet with Sayo for the first time in months, the first thing she's greeted by is the smell of tea. Black tea, of course, but... creamy. Sugary, almost. Not remotely as bitter as the kind she may be familiar with from her time as Featherine's miko.
Sayo herself is sitting on the couch, shifting uncomfortably and hunching her shoulders. Her eyes briefly meet Ange's, then flit away, looking for anything else to focus on.]
Hello, Ange-san. [Her voice is just as exhausted as it sounded the day she moved out, but it's... quieter now. Not as harsh, not as bitter. Just like the tea.] I, um. Made some tea, if you'd like.
Sayo herself is sitting on the couch, shifting uncomfortably and hunching her shoulders. Her eyes briefly meet Ange's, then flit away, looking for anything else to focus on.]
Hello, Ange-san. [Her voice is just as exhausted as it sounded the day she moved out, but it's... quieter now. Not as harsh, not as bitter. Just like the tea.] I, um. Made some tea, if you'd like.
[ Honestly, this meeting did take some preparation on Ange's end as well. Not quite the same way as on Sayo's end, since Ange hasn't been making any tea or anything of the sort. No - instead the problem lies entirely within the fact that the hot and humid weather has made it very, very easy for people to get irritable, and Ange is no exception to the rule. If anything, she's even more likely to get irritable than just your average person.
It's why she has been purposefully trying to calm down and keep herself calm for this meeting. The last thing she wants to do is snap over something dumb - something that's very likely due to a combination of the weather, the atmosphere in the air in town right now, and the fact that she's about to speak with Sayo.
It's why something about her might seem similarly uncomfortable as Sayo when she enters the room and moves to sit down. She's not entirely sure whether she's feeling calm, but she's at least making an attempt.
An awkward attempt.
There's a hum of acknowledgement, but no 'thank you.' Still, Ange does at least move to grab one of the cups of tea, which is probably her trying to make an attempt to meet in the middle here on her end.
There's a moment of quiet, but then Ange slowly speaks up. ]
Ruby said you wanted to talk to me.
It's why she has been purposefully trying to calm down and keep herself calm for this meeting. The last thing she wants to do is snap over something dumb - something that's very likely due to a combination of the weather, the atmosphere in the air in town right now, and the fact that she's about to speak with Sayo.
It's why something about her might seem similarly uncomfortable as Sayo when she enters the room and moves to sit down. She's not entirely sure whether she's feeling calm, but she's at least making an attempt.
An awkward attempt.
There's a hum of acknowledgement, but no 'thank you.' Still, Ange does at least move to grab one of the cups of tea, which is probably her trying to make an attempt to meet in the middle here on her end.
There's a moment of quiet, but then Ange slowly speaks up. ]
Ruby said you wanted to talk to me.
CRAWLS BACK IN we need to keep making this happen
commediadellarte
- 2022-08-25 18:53 (UTC) - Expand [The last couple days had certainly been an experience. ...Between the house going down and being forcibly trapped in Neo's house for a few days. Ruby had to say she was absolutely exhausted- But there was someone who needed to know she was safe first and foremost. She knew they had a safe spot to stay at Break's house when things got dicey and she knew that's where Ange would be.
Without a care for any of the people living in the house Ruby arrived outside of the guest room window and held her Omni up high like a boom box. This song wasn't exactly familiar in her own world but she liked it. ...And she certainly hoped Ange would too.]
Without a care for any of the people living in the house Ruby arrived outside of the guest room window and held her Omni up high like a boom box. This song wasn't exactly familiar in her own world but she liked it. ...And she certainly hoped Ange would too.]
[ Maybe it's a dumb instinct, but the moment Ange suddenly hears music and realises it's coming from the outside, she already knows what's going on. There's only one person who would do this sort of thing - and that's exactly the person she's been longing to see for days now. Even when Break reassured her that he put Qrow on Ruby's trail and that it would all end up alright, and even with having received that message from Ruby, Ange still couldn't help but worry about the other. Especially when there was so very little she herself could do, as exhausted and basically trapped in bed as she has been for the past few days.
Ange can feel it, too. Even before she sees Ruby, it's like she can tell the other's proximity through their bond. Like a warmth filling up her chest that she had missed for days already.
Despite the fact that she's still on the tired side, Ange still forces herself up and out of guest room bed, and over to the window. She's conscious of the way she looks right now, the beast traits not having faded, and it makes her squat down underneath the window, only peering right over the lower edge of the window with the top of her head and her eyes. Just enough to look outside.
(Granted - even that much already shows some of her beast traits, with the laurel wreath of golden feathers growing out of her hair, and with the way her entire eyes are glowing golden without any iris or pupils or eyewhites, but she has to see Ruby. She has to know this is real. She has to.) ]
.. Ruby..?
[ Even between the music and the fact the window is still closed, it's not hard to hear Ange's voice calling out to the other. ]
Ange can feel it, too. Even before she sees Ruby, it's like she can tell the other's proximity through their bond. Like a warmth filling up her chest that she had missed for days already.
Despite the fact that she's still on the tired side, Ange still forces herself up and out of guest room bed, and over to the window. She's conscious of the way she looks right now, the beast traits not having faded, and it makes her squat down underneath the window, only peering right over the lower edge of the window with the top of her head and her eyes. Just enough to look outside.
(Granted - even that much already shows some of her beast traits, with the laurel wreath of golden feathers growing out of her hair, and with the way her entire eyes are glowing golden without any iris or pupils or eyewhites, but she has to see Ruby. She has to know this is real. She has to.) ]
.. Ruby..?
[ Even between the music and the fact the window is still closed, it's not hard to hear Ange's voice calling out to the other. ]
[ falco delivers his gifts personally, and ange's happens to be on the receiving end of a neatly packed antler decorated with feathers, paint, bloodstones and intricate strings to ward off the nibbling of corruption and nightmares. serving as a winter mourning, it glows a dull blue from being blessed, but has yet to really bring up any memories— lucky them? although it doesn't stop the rest of the happenings coming to life around trench.
ange's home, while falco is there, receives three knocks on the grand front door of her new manor, and behind it rasps a voice of song:
It's the Mari Lwyd—!
ange's home, while falco is there, receives three knocks on the grand front door of her new manor, and behind it rasps a voice of song:
“The Mari Lwyd stands at your door!falco has been quiet and a touch uneasy, but not as much as he had been. corruption seems to stray away enough for him to interact, smile when he feels like it and so on. there's color on his face, despite the usual green color. it's better than looking like a sheet of paper, clammy and slimy. he was dry and interactive, and with the voice, it brings a memory so distant and yet, so very warm. he cracks up a neat smile and points to the door from the inside while rising to his feet. ]
The Mari Lwyd is poor no more!
Won’t you come and answer
Before we freeze forever more?”
It's the Mari Lwyd—!
.. the Mari Lwyd?
[ Ange sounds so much more sceptical in comparison to Falco's own tone. He's smiling, after all - and Ange even feels like it's a genuine smile on Falco's end, despite the fact that the other is still dealing with corruption.
But even his smiling face isn't enough to soothe her own nerves. Maybe it's since Ange has been feeling so much on edge all month already. No - it's been this way since last month, hasn't it? That constant paranoia, the worry that something might happen to any of the people she cares about.
And there's no way she's just going to trust some random voice at the door when she's this distrustful of everything right now. ]
Falco. [ Her voice is a little sharper than necessarily intended, since she wants to be softer around the poor boy while he's dealing with corruption..
But sometimes you have to be a little strict to protect someone. Cruel to be kind. ]
Tell me. What's the Mari Lwyd?
[ Ange looks at him, but occasionally she glances over at the door, like she's paranoid it may just be burst down by whatever is waiting outside, making those sounds. ]
[ Ange sounds so much more sceptical in comparison to Falco's own tone. He's smiling, after all - and Ange even feels like it's a genuine smile on Falco's end, despite the fact that the other is still dealing with corruption.
But even his smiling face isn't enough to soothe her own nerves. Maybe it's since Ange has been feeling so much on edge all month already. No - it's been this way since last month, hasn't it? That constant paranoia, the worry that something might happen to any of the people she cares about.
And there's no way she's just going to trust some random voice at the door when she's this distrustful of everything right now. ]
Falco. [ Her voice is a little sharper than necessarily intended, since she wants to be softer around the poor boy while he's dealing with corruption..
But sometimes you have to be a little strict to protect someone. Cruel to be kind. ]
Tell me. What's the Mari Lwyd?
[ Ange looks at him, but occasionally she glances over at the door, like she's paranoid it may just be burst down by whatever is waiting outside, making those sounds. ]
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