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TDM #1
TDM #1
DREAMING
At first, there is nothing. You are nothing. Whatever existed before ceases to be if for a moment. Then, bit by bit, you start to become aware. Where there was not even darkness now is a dim haze, gentle and almost mist-like. You have limbs again and beneath your feet lays a path of light reaching out like limbs of a great tree beneath you, twisting and climbing out into the horizon.You take a step forward for what else is there to do? As you walk you begin to remember what it was you were doing before the nothingness; maybe something as simple as chatting with a loved one or close friend. Maybe you were just beginning a great journey or facing off against an old foe. Whatever it was, you get the distinct feeling that wherever and whenever that was, it is not here. Not now.
The path of light twists off into different directions. When you look up you can see that it is not a sky above you but the sky of everything, a grand cosmic tapestry littered with not mere stars but galaxies and clusters of galaxies that gleam like crystals against the velvety backdrop of space. Admire it for a moment, if you will. You don't know how long you will drift here, but you are not alone. Other wanderers will come and go as you bask together in the vastness of creation.
It seems to you that there are two paths to walk in this place, the light and dark beckoning in turn.
❖ THE LIGHT AT THE CENTER
One leads you to the center, splintered fragments folding together and colliding until only one thing remains: a light that speaks to you with the voice of all there is and has ever been. It greets you simultaneously as an old friend and as a lost child, both rejoicing in and mourning your arrival. You remember it too, somehow, with a feeling of complex nostalgia, as if returning to a place recalled from your distant childhood.
You’ll feel the same of the other wanderers that join you in the light; you know their faces, their voices, and as you reflect upon the world of your birth, you may witness fragments of theirs as well. You feel a comradery, then, a synchronicity of thought and emotion. Are the lives of others truly so different from your own? Or are you simply two hands of the same, greater being? Though some individualistic part of you may resist, the longer you spend in the light, the more you will find yourself becoming one with it.
Despite this welcoming call, no matter how eagerly your pursue its embrace, before you can fully submerge yourself in this oneness you will find yourself being torn away. As if seized by the impossibly long, cold arm of a creature unseen, you are plucked from the edge of fulfillment. The last thing you will remember is the sensation of your world, and all the others your experienced here, collapsing into nothingness.
❖ THE DARK OUTSIDE (CW: deep despair, ego death)
The other leads towards the outside, where the splintering becomes so great that the vestiges of reality can do nothing but collapse back into the abyss at the end of everything. As you wander to these barren outskirts, your thoughts will not be drawn to familiarity and oneness, but instead to memories of discontent and waste. The darker the path becomes, the more you find yourself dwelling on life’s disappointments and injustices, of the things about yourself and your world you find wanting.
If you see others here, at first they will feel frightening or contemptible, as if representing to you the worst experiences in your life. Even if they are someone you’re certain you know, that familiarity and affection will be stripped away in the face of the great emptiness before you. In the end, you were all the same. In the end, none of this was worth it. If you approach the end together, you may even form a kind of kinship around this acknowledgment, as the need for paranoia and hatred fades.
Slowly, the darkness encroaches, and you can see it devouring all the things you once knew. Memories of your home, of those you loved, dissolve into nothing, and you can only reflect on the barren emptiness in your heart as you see it happen. In your final moments, though, you feel peace with it all, knowing that there was no other way. You step from the edge of the last dwindling fragment of being and are greeted by silence.
❖ THE END
No matter which way you go, you are left with a single impression: you feel the world you came from die. It's a realization that transcends logic or sense; it weighs on your heart and leaves the vestiges of dark memories dancing in your thoughts like motes of ash. It's a memory of your home crumbling away into nothing as if consumed from within by rot. Returned to the void, all that's left to you is to be reborn.
REBIRTH
In a new time and place, you awaken. Stirring within a capsule of warmth and isolation your senses will slowly return, only to observe that you are trapped. Your body, as it wakes, is tangled in close, yours eyes unable to open, as if still within the womb. You are held tight in the embrace of something unyielding, so smothering that at first you only have the strength to struggle for moments at a time. Yet, as you persist, the pressure begins to relent in turn; it may take hours, but eventually you will find the purchase to push, to claw, to fight, and it will all give way.The chrysalis surrounding you bends like flesh and cracks like glass. It tears as you force your fingers through, finding liberation one inch at a time, until finally you have emerged. As if having undergone metamorphosis, you feel old and new all at once. You are weak, piteously so, but the markings and scars of your previous life remain. As you slump down upon the smooth cavern stone, you realize that you've just wrenched yourself free of gigantic crystal, though its hollow, shimmering form is now in pieces on account of your passing. Somewhere on your body, a shard of similar material remains embedded.
The cave itself looks almost like the inside of a geode, the walls and ceiling bedazzled with greyish crystal that shines with all the colors of the rainbow. While they vary wildly in size and shape, only a few have grown large enough to hold a form like yours, and you can see the one you just escaped isn't the only one bearing a passenger within. They may have already hatched, or they may still be lingering in stasis. Either way, there's enough time that you may have a chance to speak to yours unexpected peers, or to perhaps to struggle to find something to cover your naked body with. You feel the chill of the open air against your moisture laden skin, a distant light trickling in through the cavern's opening.
Make the most of this time. It won't be long before you're interrupted.
[Mod Note: If you don't want to deal with your character being naked in front of the others at that location, feel free to assume they emerge at a different time than the others of their legacy. Characters will be 'hatching' over a period of several hours.]
CAPTIVITY
It seems that someone was waiting for you to arrive, and not in the most friendly of ways. Though the specifics of who comes to get you will vary according to which legacy shrine your character awakens at, there are certain commonalities: most notably, how they are ostensibly here to capture and imprison you. It's easy for them, all considered. You can barely stand, so fresh out of your chrysalis, and whatever powers or special abilities you may have had will not answer your call. Even worse, your would be captors are well equipped for the job.
Each group arrives with several 'whips' made of unknown materials. What makes them so special only become obvious when one of them inevitable snakes its way around your body. Whether it be your ankle or your neck, being bound by these cords puts you under the influence of whoever is holding the other end of your leash. Your mind remains untouched, but you will find yourself physically incapable of performing physical actions that go against their will. While the possibilities are frightening, thankfully they all just seem to want one thing: for you to come along as a good little prisoner and to not cause any of them too much trouble.
The rest depends on your character's legacy:
❖ THE LOVER
The small island the shrine is built upon is approached by several modest boats with colorful sails. They carry what appears to be a collection of fearful fisherfolk and town guards. They are reluctant to speak with those being pulled out of the shrine or even look them in the eye. If they have their choice, the entire process will be done in silence. If you try too hard to upset them, the guards will sternly bring you to heel.
❖ THE CELEBRANT
The infrastructure of an entire festival ground seems to be built around this shrine, and as a result, there are an usual amount of people present. While most keep their distance, a few will engage with the local guards that arrive to capture the Aions, complaining that this is going to interfere with their preparations for the upcoming Lover’s Festival. They are pushed aside in short order, and the rest of the retrieval will be done in a stern but business-like manner.
❖ THE MARTYR
At first, those arriving to capture the Aions will be hesitant to even enter the barren crater this shrine is held within. Once the presence of the new arrivals becomes clear, however, they will run in as if crossing the no man’s land of a battlefield and complete their work with gusto. It appears to be mostly military folk and they seem to lack any patience or sympathy for those they capture.
❖ THE SOVEREIGN
The captors here seem to be a mixed bag, almost as if two separate squadrons have arrived at the same time. One is a gathering of people who give off the impression of mountain folk, while the others are well armored soldiers. Though it will be hard to make out the specifics, there seems to be some manner of disagreement between these two parties over what should be done, but the ones kitted out in full military attire win out in the end. By then, they are completely out of patience for further resistance.
❖ THE ARTISAN
The people here seem to have mixed feelings about your arrival. On one hand, it seems to be a moment of considerable trepidation, on the other, they seem unbearably curious about your nature. They will ask questions about any unusual features you have, or what your skills are, while others from the group try just as hard to shush them. Ultimately, they don’t seem that enthusiastic about having to capture you, but they also don’t seem to think they have much choice.
❖ THE INNOCENT
Among rolling hills of flowers, at first it seems as if this shrine may not be visited at all. Before the arriving Aions can escape it, though - naked and weakened as they are - a group of fairly normal looking townsfolk will arrive. They pause as they spot you near the shrine, almost like they are hesitating about coming at all. In the end, they will converge upon you and ask for you to please cooperate. They won’t hurt you, as long as you come with them.
❖ THE SEEKER
Armored soldiers are the ones to first pull you from the shrine, but as you arrive outside of it you'll see that it is situated at the edge of a great forest. An ancient observatory is build into the cliff face behind the shrine, and your captors are apparently in the process of negotiating with a series of robed individuals that have emerged from it. According to them, the soldiers kidnapping you are trespassing. Unfortunately, they are not the ones with weapons.
❖ THE WANDERER
When you first emerge from the shrine, it will appear as if you have just missed a skirmish. There are a few bodies scattered about, all wearing woodland armor made of leather and fur. The victors, it seems, come in the form of fully armored soldiers. Thoroughly irritated by the fight that just happened, they will not waste time on niceties. If you try to ask them what just happened, the best you may get is a sneer about ‘those damn forest people.’ You may spot a couple more bodies on the trail leading out of the forest as well.
❖ THE FIREBRAND
The first thing to be seen beyond the cavern entrance is a sheer drop into a raging canyon river far below you, with only a narrow path leading up the steep cliff face. It would be a difficult situation, even without black-cloaked warriors making their way down it to collect you. Struggle too much and you'll be at risk of being thrown into the chasm. These masked assailants are largely unmoved by your protests and will drag you the entire way up the cliff if you force them to. "Your soul will be claimed," they say.
❖ THE VISIONARY
The view from the mouth of the cavern is awe inspiring, revealing the foreign shapes of a world you've never seen before. Unfortunately, the altitude of this shrine means you will also be greeted with sharp wind and biting cold. Fortunately, or not, a party of mountaineers and three black-cloaked warriors will arrive to collect you. Despite their seeming inability to defy the orders of the warriors, the mountaineers will toss you some shoes and blankets for the trek down, even if they are taken away from you later. If the warriors speak at all, it's mostly in the form of ominous utterances.
❖ THE CHAMPION
Even if one were to stagger out of the shrine's cavern before being approached, the Aions arriving here will swiftly find themselves in a hopeless situation. Not only are there soldiers here to collect there is a moderately sized military barracks built around the shrine itself, and this particular squadron is not on your side. You will be swarmed before you can get far at all. There seems to be a mix of two squadrons here, some wearing heavy armor and red accents, while the others wear full face masks and dark cloaks.
Once you've been captured and pulled from the shrine, you will given a formless white gown made of moderately comfortable fabric, with sleeves reaching your elbows and its bottom reaching down past your knees. You will not be given pants or shoes. You're in for a journey, apparently - no matter who plucked you from the cave, most of the heavily armored soldiers in the prompts above will turn out to be 'Hylician soldiers', while the smaller number of black-robed warriors are referred to 'Achamites'. After the initial dealings with the shrines, all prisoners will be passed off to a squadron of Hylicians, though a few Achamites may follow along depending on the location.
Where are you all going? Back to Hylici, apparently.
Each group arrives with several 'whips' made of unknown materials. What makes them so special only become obvious when one of them inevitable snakes its way around your body. Whether it be your ankle or your neck, being bound by these cords puts you under the influence of whoever is holding the other end of your leash. Your mind remains untouched, but you will find yourself physically incapable of performing physical actions that go against their will. While the possibilities are frightening, thankfully they all just seem to want one thing: for you to come along as a good little prisoner and to not cause any of them too much trouble.
The rest depends on your character's legacy:
❖ THE LOVER
The small island the shrine is built upon is approached by several modest boats with colorful sails. They carry what appears to be a collection of fearful fisherfolk and town guards. They are reluctant to speak with those being pulled out of the shrine or even look them in the eye. If they have their choice, the entire process will be done in silence. If you try too hard to upset them, the guards will sternly bring you to heel.
❖ THE CELEBRANT
The infrastructure of an entire festival ground seems to be built around this shrine, and as a result, there are an usual amount of people present. While most keep their distance, a few will engage with the local guards that arrive to capture the Aions, complaining that this is going to interfere with their preparations for the upcoming Lover’s Festival. They are pushed aside in short order, and the rest of the retrieval will be done in a stern but business-like manner.
❖ THE MARTYR
At first, those arriving to capture the Aions will be hesitant to even enter the barren crater this shrine is held within. Once the presence of the new arrivals becomes clear, however, they will run in as if crossing the no man’s land of a battlefield and complete their work with gusto. It appears to be mostly military folk and they seem to lack any patience or sympathy for those they capture.
❖ THE SOVEREIGN
The captors here seem to be a mixed bag, almost as if two separate squadrons have arrived at the same time. One is a gathering of people who give off the impression of mountain folk, while the others are well armored soldiers. Though it will be hard to make out the specifics, there seems to be some manner of disagreement between these two parties over what should be done, but the ones kitted out in full military attire win out in the end. By then, they are completely out of patience for further resistance.
❖ THE ARTISAN
The people here seem to have mixed feelings about your arrival. On one hand, it seems to be a moment of considerable trepidation, on the other, they seem unbearably curious about your nature. They will ask questions about any unusual features you have, or what your skills are, while others from the group try just as hard to shush them. Ultimately, they don’t seem that enthusiastic about having to capture you, but they also don’t seem to think they have much choice.
❖ THE INNOCENT
Among rolling hills of flowers, at first it seems as if this shrine may not be visited at all. Before the arriving Aions can escape it, though - naked and weakened as they are - a group of fairly normal looking townsfolk will arrive. They pause as they spot you near the shrine, almost like they are hesitating about coming at all. In the end, they will converge upon you and ask for you to please cooperate. They won’t hurt you, as long as you come with them.
❖ THE SEEKER
Armored soldiers are the ones to first pull you from the shrine, but as you arrive outside of it you'll see that it is situated at the edge of a great forest. An ancient observatory is build into the cliff face behind the shrine, and your captors are apparently in the process of negotiating with a series of robed individuals that have emerged from it. According to them, the soldiers kidnapping you are trespassing. Unfortunately, they are not the ones with weapons.
❖ THE WANDERER
When you first emerge from the shrine, it will appear as if you have just missed a skirmish. There are a few bodies scattered about, all wearing woodland armor made of leather and fur. The victors, it seems, come in the form of fully armored soldiers. Thoroughly irritated by the fight that just happened, they will not waste time on niceties. If you try to ask them what just happened, the best you may get is a sneer about ‘those damn forest people.’ You may spot a couple more bodies on the trail leading out of the forest as well.
❖ THE FIREBRAND
The first thing to be seen beyond the cavern entrance is a sheer drop into a raging canyon river far below you, with only a narrow path leading up the steep cliff face. It would be a difficult situation, even without black-cloaked warriors making their way down it to collect you. Struggle too much and you'll be at risk of being thrown into the chasm. These masked assailants are largely unmoved by your protests and will drag you the entire way up the cliff if you force them to. "Your soul will be claimed," they say.
❖ THE VISIONARY
The view from the mouth of the cavern is awe inspiring, revealing the foreign shapes of a world you've never seen before. Unfortunately, the altitude of this shrine means you will also be greeted with sharp wind and biting cold. Fortunately, or not, a party of mountaineers and three black-cloaked warriors will arrive to collect you. Despite their seeming inability to defy the orders of the warriors, the mountaineers will toss you some shoes and blankets for the trek down, even if they are taken away from you later. If the warriors speak at all, it's mostly in the form of ominous utterances.
❖ THE CHAMPION
Even if one were to stagger out of the shrine's cavern before being approached, the Aions arriving here will swiftly find themselves in a hopeless situation. Not only are there soldiers here to collect there is a moderately sized military barracks built around the shrine itself, and this particular squadron is not on your side. You will be swarmed before you can get far at all. There seems to be a mix of two squadrons here, some wearing heavy armor and red accents, while the others wear full face masks and dark cloaks.
Once you've been captured and pulled from the shrine, you will given a formless white gown made of moderately comfortable fabric, with sleeves reaching your elbows and its bottom reaching down past your knees. You will not be given pants or shoes. You're in for a journey, apparently - no matter who plucked you from the cave, most of the heavily armored soldiers in the prompts above will turn out to be 'Hylician soldiers', while the smaller number of black-robed warriors are referred to 'Achamites'. After the initial dealings with the shrines, all prisoners will be passed off to a squadron of Hylicians, though a few Achamites may follow along depending on the location.
Where are you all going? Back to Hylici, apparently.
WAITING
After you've been handed off to the the Hylician military, you have a long road ahead of you. Loaded up onto carts, and then eventually onto river borne boats, the people collected at the shrines will all be brought to a forest in the center of Horos. Along the way, the squadron ferrying you will combine with others from neighboring shrines, more and more captives arriving in your group the closer to your destination you get. Along the way you will be fed and watered well enough (though only with military rations), and at night you will be given flimsy bedrolls to sleep around the fire with. Captives will be under constant watch by the Hylician guard, and anyone who shows any signs of resistance will be required to be bound by one of those magic whips, usually around the ankle or wrist. The rest of the trip is spent being pulled along in carts or the storage bays of boats. After the groups start converging, captives of the same legacy will not necessarily be kept together.
The final muster point of the Hylicians and their captives will be among forest ruins. For what purpose you have arrived they will not say, but the entire group will be camping there until preparations are complete. Sadly, you won't be allowed much space to explore - not without being bound and under watch. If you've behaved yourself it's possible to move about the central ruins, but only if the guards are confident they'll be able to wrangle you when necessary. It does allow for moderately private conversations along the pillars and walls of the ruins, but venturing out into the forest itself is definitely out of the question.
From beginning to end, characters will spent about two weeks in transit and waiting in the ruins. To what end is yet to be seen, but if you listen closely, you may hear whispers of a 'ritual space' being prepared.
QUESTIONS
Are everyone's homeworlds really gone?
That's a complicated issue, and while the fate of their world is not without hope, they may certainly get the impression its been destroyed from the dream they had. Alternatively, they may refuse to believe what they felt and attempt to dismiss it as only a vision. More about this situation will be revealed as the game goes on.
Can I only experience one end of the dream sequence prompt?
Characters may experience one ending, both endings, or neither. If they experience both they will struggle to recall which came first or which feels the most 'true' to them, as both will simultaneously be the thought they are reborn with. If your character refuses to pursue either path they can simply linger in the middle until the infinite worlds above them start being extinguished one by one, eventually expelling them into darkness in a similar style to the light prompt. Which dreams they experience will not dictate their intial sect affiliation.
Is it possible to pull another character back from the end of the light or darkness dreams?
Yes! If your character is able to resist the pull of either end, they will have the chance to try to pull another character back from the edge of the abyss or the edge of oneness. Whether or not they succeed is entirely up to the other character, though.
Do you come out of the chrysalis wet?
For most intents and purposes it's the same experience as hatching out of a real butterfly chrysalis, so yes, a bit.
Can my character resist the influence of the whips?
Those possessed of particularly strong wills may be able to struggle with the whip's control in brief spurts, but not long enough to make a full escape attempt. They may be able to take an impotent swing at one of the guards or fight against being pulled along, though. Naturally, doing this will indicate to the Hylicians that you are a problem, and their handling of you will become harsher the more it occurs.
How cruel will the Hylicians be to the player characters?
The Hylician military are not friendly people and come across as being a bit callous even at the best of times. However, unless you provoke them, they will be primarily focused on just getting the job done with as few interruption as possible. If your character makes a habit of pissing them off, either by constantly fighting back or just by being persistently obnoxious, their treatment will get worse. If driven to it, they may take the opportunity to take out their frustrations on particularly troublesome prisoners, via physical punishment, humiliation, or deprivation.
That's a complicated issue, and while the fate of their world is not without hope, they may certainly get the impression its been destroyed from the dream they had. Alternatively, they may refuse to believe what they felt and attempt to dismiss it as only a vision. More about this situation will be revealed as the game goes on.
Can I only experience one end of the dream sequence prompt?
Characters may experience one ending, both endings, or neither. If they experience both they will struggle to recall which came first or which feels the most 'true' to them, as both will simultaneously be the thought they are reborn with. If your character refuses to pursue either path they can simply linger in the middle until the infinite worlds above them start being extinguished one by one, eventually expelling them into darkness in a similar style to the light prompt. Which dreams they experience will not dictate their intial sect affiliation.
Is it possible to pull another character back from the end of the light or darkness dreams?
Yes! If your character is able to resist the pull of either end, they will have the chance to try to pull another character back from the edge of the abyss or the edge of oneness. Whether or not they succeed is entirely up to the other character, though.
Do you come out of the chrysalis wet?
For most intents and purposes it's the same experience as hatching out of a real butterfly chrysalis, so yes, a bit.
Can my character resist the influence of the whips?
Those possessed of particularly strong wills may be able to struggle with the whip's control in brief spurts, but not long enough to make a full escape attempt. They may be able to take an impotent swing at one of the guards or fight against being pulled along, though. Naturally, doing this will indicate to the Hylicians that you are a problem, and their handling of you will become harsher the more it occurs.
How cruel will the Hylicians be to the player characters?
The Hylician military are not friendly people and come across as being a bit callous even at the best of times. However, unless you provoke them, they will be primarily focused on just getting the job done with as few interruption as possible. If your character makes a habit of pissing them off, either by constantly fighting back or just by being persistently obnoxious, their treatment will get worse. If driven to it, they may take the opportunity to take out their frustrations on particularly troublesome prisoners, via physical punishment, humiliation, or deprivation.
no subject
still weak from emergence, dextera has lost a lot of value. what’s left in him is someone silently inclined to follow the guidance of others, even if that ends up taking them all to open ribs on a slab of stone. ]
…
[ or, losing their souls.
dextera briefly closes his eyes, surprisingly peaceful at the implication of their future; when he’s able to hide the constant nervous darting of his gaze, he looks a little more put together. his hand tightens over his heart then drops back into his lap. although it’s now been days since waking up, he can still remember the dream that welcomed him to this world and the sense of renewal that followed.
the slow answer that comes is revealed in the form of a lingering look; he lifts his head to look first at the soldiers in question, then at the white robes like a uniform they’ve been donned with. their souls, he thinks, are more metaphorical.
he presses his hands together like a loose prayer, a suggestion of devotion. ]
no subject
and what gold it might have been! his demon's senses might be dulled and addled now, but he's still good enough at reading both mortals and demons alike to sense a huge burden of guilt resting upon those shoulders, bowing them as if it were a physical weight — the pains and tribulations of life comprise the currency that demon's trade in, transmogrified as they were into precious metal, and those humans that sink to the lowest depths always pay out the most.
not that makoto really cares for that sort of thing. gold had only been useful in tempting the greed of demons for his own aims; here, it meant nothing to him at all.
he looks at dextera with an interest that is more pure than predatory for once, thinking it refreshing that this one, for once, isn't obviously panicked in the face of... perhaps having his soul reaped for the benefit of some foreign God. it's all conjecture, but the fear is real enough when the future is so perfectly obscured. he takes note of his gaze once his eyes open once more: the soldiers, the clothes they had been given, the clasping of his hands together, as if in prayer.
makoto is silent for a moment, pensive in a way that seems genuine rather than leading or mocking, for once. )
Maybe so.
( isn't that supposed to be the weight of a soul? to be glorified unto God or claimed for the selfish purposes of demons?
he could press further, of course, but he feels as though he's gotten a decent sense of this one, and without him having said a single word. but there is one more thing that seems paramount to ask: )
What's your name? ( he reaches out to the neutral ground between them, pressing the pad of one forefinger into the soft earth. ) Can you write it?
no subject
but since he doesn’t want it, he ignores it and lets the awareness of something wrong sink back under the surface. things are easier if he bears his own problems and nobody else’s. ]
…
[ he breathes slowly in the face of that not unkind consideration for his theory. his jaw is tense, as his whole body is, but he’s not any more nervous than usual with the civility of the conversation. then the question comes, and his brow furrows.
it’s not the first time he’s been asked his name here, and he’s sure it won’t be the last when his fellow captives are, if not friendly, curious. that doesn’t make the question less difficult for him to answer—he’s claimed an appellation that was given to him, but he knows it’s not his name. he’s aware it’s like a lab rat proclaiming itself by the mark on its ear.
still, it’s something, and so he drags his thumb through the dirt to spell it. the muscles in his face twitch with repression. he withdraws his hand from the ‘a’ in ‘dextera,’ and then looks at makoto for acknowledgment.
a little quirk of his head could be the same question, returned. ]
no subject
when it comes to all the questions that makoto could needle and pry at this stranger with, asking for his name is one of the easiest. not that it wasn't important — a demon from his version of hell learned in their first few days the huge power that a name could hold — but it was at least usually easy to answer. he watches the man's forehead crease, and one of his brows arches in response. at first he writes it off that it was just troublesome to write out instead of speak aloud, but it's in observing the storm cloud that settles over his expression as he scratches it into the dirt that makoto begins to get the feeling that's not the full truth.
interesting. )
That was supposed to be the easiest question I ask you, you know.
( he doesn't push him any more than that, but he does let him know he'd noticed, slipping it into his pocket for later puzzling.
he tilts his head so he can read the name. he tests it out, the syllables lilting on his stolen tongue: ) Dextera-san...
( he acknowledges the reflection of the question by reaching out and jabbing a forefinger into the dirt, slashing four sharp, connecting lines through the middle of where he had signed his name, forming a single letter. when he finishes, he looks up to fix dextera in a sharp-toothed smile. )
You may call me M.
no subject
but everyone has to be called something, and this is what he has to offer. his mouth twists like he’s going to say something to defend himself, but his voiceless throat tightens and he has no choice but to look down at the reply in the earth. the same method, mirrored back at him, placed like ownership.
he draws an unhappy breath and curls his fingers around the opposite wrist. ]
…
[ then, he fully turns his head to makoto, finally allowing himself to take in this mysterious stranger instead of observing him from the periphery with fleeting glances. his eyes, his smile, even his posture—it all indicates distortion, and dextera has his questions too about what it all amounts to.
he stares as long as he’s allowed, until some satisfactory answer comes to him and he looks back down at their names.
‘M.’ it carries its own implications. ]
no subject
makoto had already realized that those rules no longer apply here. if they did, he would have already been extinguished, given there was no one here that knew his name. he also hasn't told anyone, instead giving out his initial as he had to dextera — he isn't really sure why he does this, but in the end he feels that he chooses to still believe that there's importance in a name, and given it's the very last thing that's uniquely his that he even possesses... he's choosing to be jealous with it.
there's nothing sporting in provoking someone who cannot speak to defend themself; makoto, then, relents somewhat, though less out of mercy than just an acknowledgement that it simply wasn't fun enough to warrant the effort.
without his demon's innate ability to appraise the weight and contents of a soul, he has to try to divine it from other sources. he studies dextera just as the stranger steals a few sidelong glances at him, taking note of each minute instance of body language, puzzling at what it indicated and why. as for his now-companion's observations, he's not wrong in the slightest. the demon known as "M" is a canvas that has been painted over so many times it's almost impossible to see the original of the human that he'd once been. he is what he must be, at whatever costs.
it's after the sixth or the seventh failing-to-be-furtive look that makoto goes ahead and heads him off at the pass. )
If you have any questions for yourself, there's no need to be shy. Go ahead and ask.
( whether or not he'd be perfectly honest in his answers is another question altogether, but it's worth a shot. )
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…
[ people like to talk about themselves until they have to be honest. that’s the nature of a baroque. reality is warped around them until the only thing they can present is what they see, regardless of where they started or any objective truth. he can’t—at least shouldn’t—judge by the standards of his own world, but it’s the only map he has to use.
so, he’ll ask, and he can learn something. he looks down at his own hands, where his fingers occasionally twitch for reasons unbeknownst to him, and seems to settle on something suitably intelligible.
unable to couch it in any polite language, he’s aware that anything he says will come off direct; but he can’t help it any more than he can help anything else. without really meeting makoto’s gaze, he at least turns his face so his own eyes are visible, and he pokes one at the border between his lower lid and the sclera. only then does he make an instant of eye contact, like punctuating the question or offering an object. it’s simple enough—he just wants to know where makoto’s unusual eyes came from. ]
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and even if he did, it just went back to that selfsame question: could one really count on everything makoto saying as being the truth? sometimes having a duplicitous reputation can be useful. it's an effective smokescreen.
any concerns dextera might have about being too direct or impolite will probably go out the window when makoto actually answers. he follows along with wide eyes, raising one forefinger to mimic at pointing at one. ) Oh, my eyes? I'm not really sure why they changed to look like this myself, but it must've had something to do with when a demon pulled my head off of my body to claim my soul as his own.
( said as lightly and plainly as if he were talking about the weather, expression similarly nonchalant. )
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[ a soft gasp, as his voice is dredged up from his throat by surprise.
like any normal person’s might be, dextera’s first reaction is to withdraw with a flinch. not by a demon, but he’s had his head pulled off before and it’s not a pleasant sensation. he doesn’t like pain, despite recognizing the importance of it—and he never has been able to build up a physical tolerance quite as strong as his psychological one.
it’s a small testament to his own experiences that no part of him thinks makoto is lying. ]
…
[ inevitably, though, his curiosity gets the better of him. the brief look of empathy for pain gives way to a flicker of guilt, and then his expression once again falls into the slight anxiety that seems to be his neutral face. dextera slowly leans forward like an animal trying to sniff out something new, his eyes on makoto’s neck—looking for a scar or some other sign that he was once beheaded. ]
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empathy for that pain is something wholly new to him. it feels bizarre as he picks up on it in dextera's gaze; it seems to squirm in his chest like something unknowable and alien. he attempts to set that aside for the moment, instead focusing on the other young man's sudden piqued curiosity. usually the pronounced scar is not so difficult to pick up on, given that he typically wears his hair pulled back, but as it is he has to sweep the dark curtain of it over one shoulder to give dextera a better look.
it's not faint. the scar is apparent and doesn't seem to have done much healing — it would look more apt on a corpse than a living, breathing person. truly it seems the only thing keeping makoto's head attached to his shoulders is the series of intensive sutures that circle all the way around his neck. )
See?
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his mind then supplies the vivid image of how easy it would be to pry his thumb between the surgical ties. without asking for details, he imagines adding one more incident between makoto’s head and body, and there’s a visible tension in his wrist. a shuddering breath, a pressure between from his fingertips upon makoto’s neck that lasts only an instant. jolting, he hastily forces himself to pull his hand back before he unhelpfully attempts to strangle someone who has been kind to him until decapitation. it would be meaningless. the murderous instinct does no one any favors here, at least not for the moment. ]
…
[ he nods, once again glumly avoiding looking at makoto at all. he saw them. very nice. ]
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or...
he picks up on the tautness in the line of his wrist, the slight shake and wavering in his posture. makoto blinks, his bloody eyes opening to shift to dextera's, boring into him unblinking as the faintness of that touch builds to a near-alarming pressure for just a moment — and then it's gone.
there hadn't been any anger in makoto's gaze, or worry, or fear. if anything, there had just been... an appraising look of interest.
which next snaps to an affability that's stark in contrast to dextera's dejection. ) You know, I wouldn't have thought you had it in you! Well done. ( he almost wants to think it's all some sort of act, but... no, there's too much truth in the contradiction of his conflict. (what is he even praising him for, anyway??) makoto just smiles. ) You are an interesting one.
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…
[ more importantly, he wonders what type of person would notice that they were about to be strangled and be happy about it. even the people who have craved it in the past just seemed to be desperate, not intrigued, and dextera also followed through thoroughly enough that he could never get their reaction in the end anyway. picking at his nails, he hurriedly shakes his head. he’ll apologize, try to, as if that will make makoto realize that dextera has done something bad. ]
S…
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no, no, he doesn't want to die before he accomplishes his revenge against J. he's sticking to that, though the fact that it is seemingly once more a possibility is... intriguing. maybe that'd been it?
what was that? that almost sounds like an apology dying on his lips? is he not so mute as he appears? ) Don't you dare apologize, ( and his tone isn't exactly sharp but it does cut nonetheless, quick and concise in its delivery, even if it is disconcerting how lightly it is he discusses his own potential murder. ) You showing sign that you might throttle me is the most exciting thing you've done thus far. I'm more curious why you stopped.
( he had admitted he was a demon, after all. it's not unheard of for humans to want to kill them, unholy creatures that they are? )
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—so dextera thinks logically, at least, but a further probe into his own feelings finds that it’s not guilt, but a strange sense of acceptance, even relief, that someone has brushed off the murder attempt. of course he’s not quite grateful for it, nor does it motivate him to try again—but logical understanding that he is in the wrong and the presented fact that makoto doesn’t seem to hold it against him are in contest. dextera is inclined to take the less painful route when it comes to his feelings. ]
…
[ he still gives a cursory shake of the head, polite in a way that’s nearly comical considering the circumstances. he brushes away the place where they’ve written their names for a clean slate. for the sake of speed, he clips his thoughts to only the most important words, even at the risk of making himself look like an idiot. ]
No killing
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he breathes out in a short, quick sigh at the shake of dextera's head, beginning to wonder just how far he might have to push him before his back finally reached a wall. would that inspire him to bare his fangs? though a duplicitous creature himself, makoto found the trait taxing in others, though mostly when they lied to themselves.
he leans over to watch what the young man scratches in the dirt, then his colorless eyes slide back to watch his face; his expression is clearly contemptuous. )
What if I told you you couldn't kill me?
( he's not even sure that's true anymore, but it would have been previously. half a truth, the misleading words flow easefully from his tongue. )
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[ dextera lets his hand hover over the words he’s already written. the pause is heavy, weighed down by all the things that his lacking voice won’t let him say, but there’s only one real answer when he trims the fat away from hemming and hawing and attempting to be polite.
he looks up at makoto; his eyes are momentarily focused in a way they haven’t been, seeking something that he can’t explain. perhaps, doing it on someone else’s behalf.
then, his decision made, he sweeps away the words with a cool hand, and replaces the modest request with something new. ]
I can
[ he doesn’t consider it a threat. he isn’t even looking at makoto once he finishes writing it. it’s just a burden on his shoulders to think that he has this power—and although he hasn’t tried to use it here, preferring not to test that part of himself, he’s aware nonetheless of his role and what his body is for.
he stands and brushes away the dirt. ]
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there's an iron sort of resignation in makoto's eyes in this assertion, then, that clashes loudly against the focus he finds in dextera's. two disparate strangers, so perfectly convicted of truths that they might or might not have shed upon arriving here... an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object.
he reads the response. inexplicably, as many of makoto's responses are, he grins.
he stands a moment after dextera does, and for a moment he lingers there, head tilted ever-so-slightly to one side as he studies the other young man. it's evident enough to see that he carries the guarantee like a burdensome mantle instead of a blade; makoto has dealt with enough braggadocian demons so satisfied in the malice of their potential violence that he can spot the difference without trouble. as tantalizing as this fascination may be... makoto knows that you can only burn the candle as far as the wick can allow. overstaying would only push his luck. so, after a long and silent moment joins them as an unwelcome third, he simply says with overt geniality, ) Until next time, Dextera-san, ( before purposefully moving past him. it's with such proximity that one might almost expect a shoulder-check, but makoto seems to flow around him like water, and then he's gone. )