just when i thought i could not be stopped
Characters: Tatsuya Suou (vrooooooooom and OPEN.
Setting/Location: The lobby on Level II.
Date & Time: Day 10, evening.
Warnings: ...uh, warning for tl;dr, I guess? If only he spoke as much as he inner-monologued, sob.
Summary: There is a guy in the corner thinking Deep Thoughts and staring at his arm. What do?
To say that Tatsuya was having a bad couple of days would be a massive understatement.
-- which wasn't to say that things had been too great before that, either. Really, it had been bad all around since he'd remembered the Other Side in the first place. But despite everything that had come his way since then, at least he'd had a clear goal and was in a position to keep pushing for it. Things hadn't always been crystal clear, but it had never been too hard to pick up a trail back to the source, either, almost as if Nyarlathotep wanted to be tracked down. Like he was daring Tatsuya to come after him.
Which he probably had been. Why would he be afraid of humans -- and why would he think I had any chance at stopping him, after what happened last time?
Tatsuya hadn't minded getting what might as well have been an engraved invitation to come get his ass kicked, though, because at least it let him do something. Here, in some other world with no clues save the claim that he'd (eventually) be sent home if he sat down, shut up, and waited it out...it was enough to drive him crazy.
And it wasn't even the only problem. He'd tried to use his Persona against the monsters in the forest, and while it had worked, it hadn't been nearly as effective as it should've; it had felt more like those early run-ins with the Joker, when the power was still new to him (mostly -- that time when he was a child didn't really count) and he wasn't able to tap into it as well. That might as well have been a lifetime ago; to come back to it now was worrying.
He pushed back his right sleeve for a moment, staring at Nyarlathotep's mark on his arm. Maybe it was his imagination, but that almost felt weaker, too, the bad vibes he usually got from it seemingly toned down somehow. Like we're almost too far out of their range of influence, maybe. He frowned. That idea felt stupid as soon as he came up with it. How did you get out of reach of the powers governing the collective unconscious?
He almost wished Philemon were here so he could ask him what the hell was going on. Or punch him in the face for not explaining it. Whatever.
Setting/Location: The lobby on Level II.
Date & Time: Day 10, evening.
Warnings: ...uh, warning for tl;dr, I guess? If only he spoke as much as he inner-monologued, sob.
Summary: There is a guy in the corner thinking Deep Thoughts and staring at his arm. What do?
To say that Tatsuya was having a bad couple of days would be a massive understatement.
-- which wasn't to say that things had been too great before that, either. Really, it had been bad all around since he'd remembered the Other Side in the first place. But despite everything that had come his way since then, at least he'd had a clear goal and was in a position to keep pushing for it. Things hadn't always been crystal clear, but it had never been too hard to pick up a trail back to the source, either, almost as if Nyarlathotep wanted to be tracked down. Like he was daring Tatsuya to come after him.
Which he probably had been. Why would he be afraid of humans -- and why would he think I had any chance at stopping him, after what happened last time?
Tatsuya hadn't minded getting what might as well have been an engraved invitation to come get his ass kicked, though, because at least it let him do something. Here, in some other world with no clues save the claim that he'd (eventually) be sent home if he sat down, shut up, and waited it out...it was enough to drive him crazy.
And it wasn't even the only problem. He'd tried to use his Persona against the monsters in the forest, and while it had worked, it hadn't been nearly as effective as it should've; it had felt more like those early run-ins with the Joker, when the power was still new to him (mostly -- that time when he was a child didn't really count) and he wasn't able to tap into it as well. That might as well have been a lifetime ago; to come back to it now was worrying.
He pushed back his right sleeve for a moment, staring at Nyarlathotep's mark on his arm. Maybe it was his imagination, but that almost felt weaker, too, the bad vibes he usually got from it seemingly toned down somehow. Like we're almost too far out of their range of influence, maybe. He frowned. That idea felt stupid as soon as he came up with it. How did you get out of reach of the powers governing the collective unconscious?
He almost wished Philemon were here so he could ask him what the hell was going on. Or punch him in the face for not explaining it. Whatever.