Week 1 Day 1 [Dream Post]
Nyarlathotep had over fifteen arms. They emerged from the center of his blackness, myriad dreadlocks each topped with a hand, and inside each hand a staring, unflinching eye. The creature could see their every move, and jostled with their panic, grew stronger with their fear. It would take seconds for it to reach across the room and choke you. It would take less for the nothing to spread about and take the world. It would take less still for him to quit. Katsuya held his breath and hated himself for doing it.
The room itself pulsated. The heat of the floors and the ceiling combined with the emptiness that comprised the walls - true emptiness, black emptiness, that stretched on for no where, so that only Nyarlathotep's ominous moving indicated he were separate from the continuous nothing. Occasionally, a team member would slide behind him while the group surrounded him, and that would provide more contrast for his presence.
"Suou-nii," Maya called from the other side of Nyarlathotep. "You missed it! The fusion!"
He exhaled sharply, brought from the staring eyes to Maya's violet irises through the mess of arms. Strands of mussed black hair split her frustrated and panicked stare as he felt the color rise in his cheeks. He'd missed a cue. A big cue. I missed the cue the first time, too.
"Amae-chan, you get me killed Imma kill you so dead when I'm a Persona --" The man in gold to his left snarled. Baofu's hair, straight to his lower back, spun about him as a sharp-edged pinwheel as he spun a chakra-laden coin towards Nyarlathotep's middle. Don't die yet -! Katsuya pressed a hand over his mouth. Why so inactive? Why watch? Why hope that Baofu failed? The yen disappeared into his belly, swallowed and forgotten. The gold of his suit turned blood red as the floor pulsed bright in time with Nyarlathotep's wail.
"Persona!" Ulala, clothed in her green spider-web dress, cried from the floor. Her ankle was already starting to puss. Her body convulsed and her breath heaved out of her, and from her shoulders a transparent spirit began to spur. Asteria rose from her form, and Ulala dropped her eyes - now red, focused on Nyarlathotep, and began the Twinkle Nebula. The celestial attack drove spikes of light through the creature. The floor pulsed again.
Tatsuya whonevermissed a cuenot with Mayanot with anyoneright?fuck began the fusion spell again -- lighter, quicker, stronger, sleeker - he drew his sword into the air and was mirrored by Apollo.
He had the Old Maid.
His throat tightened. "Suou-nii! Suou-nii, again! I need your back-up! Suou-nii, pay attention!" Maya's voice shouted through the winding arms. He focused on her lips and the world began to fizzle out. It was time to call on Hyperion, but Hyperion wouldn't come.
Temporarily, Katsuya was not himself, and when one is temporarily not even their most base spiritual component, there is nothing at all.
He stumbled to the left and collapsed to the pulsating floor, the spirit of the Old Maid bursting through his left arm instead of Hyperion's metal-plated form.
"Shit!" Baofu managed to avoid the blast of electricity, leaping three feet back, but Ulala was hit again - she passed out, body flat on the floor.
Katsuya watched Maya's lips break open for a scream and shuddered.
"Fuck, you fucked us! You fucked us! Fucking fuck..." Baofu drove about Nyarlathotep, raining a series of coins into the creature's side.
Maya bit upon her lower lip. It broke, and her lipstick was joined by a layer of blood.
Katsuya flattened his palm against the floor and forced himself upright, gathering his feet underneath him. So what. The Old Maid. They'd seen it before. The arm got stitched back together. The Soul got put back in place.
But every-time it left there was a bit of empty, a bit of blank and quiet, as if he hadn't been in his body and the bones had caved inside and his heart had forgotten it served a function. When the Old Maid took the Persona, it took the inside mirror, and feeling nothing, though Buddhist in intention, would have been terrifying if terror could be felt. Instead, it was a mystifying wall. There's nothing left to do but shoot. Without Hyperion, and figuratively, without his goals in mind, the world became a void, a vacant thing.
Tatsuya slid to assist Maya after the blast from the Old Maid.
He wished the Old Maid would stay, and he'd never return at all.
He aimed his gun and shot.
Maya's lips broke into a sudden, alarmed shout. Good? Bad? He hadn't focused on her eyes, and just now saw the rest of her come into focus. The trendy leather shirt - the long leather skirt -
Ah -- was it done?
Had he killed him?
His head pounding; his arm screaming;
had he killed him? Was it really done?
Saved the world? Done it? Really? All together? Complete? Ready? Would she be proud?
Maya's flying hug was met with a cry of pain, but Katsuya caught her regardless. It only lasted comparitively short - she slipped from him to his brother in an embrace twice as long - but he couldn't help it.
He'd forgotten it hurt.
[Katsuya woke, but only fluttered his eyes open -- waking to a headache again, but he'd be damned if he'd bake muffins to fix this. The dirt bed he'd found stuck to his sweat-coated skin, but his breath was still, blank. He felt as if he'd been meditating. The blankness, serenity and empty terror of the Old Maid still lingered with him as he drew one of his last cigarettes and lit it in the gloom. When it was done, he muttered to himself about most likely having a long day, and lay back down to try and sleep through something else.]
The room itself pulsated. The heat of the floors and the ceiling combined with the emptiness that comprised the walls - true emptiness, black emptiness, that stretched on for no where, so that only Nyarlathotep's ominous moving indicated he were separate from the continuous nothing. Occasionally, a team member would slide behind him while the group surrounded him, and that would provide more contrast for his presence.
"Suou-nii," Maya called from the other side of Nyarlathotep. "You missed it! The fusion!"
He exhaled sharply, brought from the staring eyes to Maya's violet irises through the mess of arms. Strands of mussed black hair split her frustrated and panicked stare as he felt the color rise in his cheeks. He'd missed a cue. A big cue. I missed the cue the first time, too.
"Amae-chan, you get me killed Imma kill you so dead when I'm a Persona --" The man in gold to his left snarled. Baofu's hair, straight to his lower back, spun about him as a sharp-edged pinwheel as he spun a chakra-laden coin towards Nyarlathotep's middle. Don't die yet -! Katsuya pressed a hand over his mouth. Why so inactive? Why watch? Why hope that Baofu failed? The yen disappeared into his belly, swallowed and forgotten. The gold of his suit turned blood red as the floor pulsed bright in time with Nyarlathotep's wail.
"Persona!" Ulala, clothed in her green spider-web dress, cried from the floor. Her ankle was already starting to puss. Her body convulsed and her breath heaved out of her, and from her shoulders a transparent spirit began to spur. Asteria rose from her form, and Ulala dropped her eyes - now red, focused on Nyarlathotep, and began the Twinkle Nebula. The celestial attack drove spikes of light through the creature. The floor pulsed again.
Tatsuya whonevermissed a cuenot with Mayanot with anyoneright?fuck began the fusion spell again -- lighter, quicker, stronger, sleeker - he drew his sword into the air and was mirrored by Apollo.
He had the Old Maid.
His throat tightened. "Suou-nii! Suou-nii, again! I need your back-up! Suou-nii, pay attention!" Maya's voice shouted through the winding arms. He focused on her lips and the world began to fizzle out. It was time to call on Hyperion, but Hyperion wouldn't come.
Temporarily, Katsuya was not himself, and when one is temporarily not even their most base spiritual component, there is nothing at all.
He stumbled to the left and collapsed to the pulsating floor, the spirit of the Old Maid bursting through his left arm instead of Hyperion's metal-plated form.
"Shit!" Baofu managed to avoid the blast of electricity, leaping three feet back, but Ulala was hit again - she passed out, body flat on the floor.
Katsuya watched Maya's lips break open for a scream and shuddered.
"Fuck, you fucked us! You fucked us! Fucking fuck..." Baofu drove about Nyarlathotep, raining a series of coins into the creature's side.
Maya bit upon her lower lip. It broke, and her lipstick was joined by a layer of blood.
Katsuya flattened his palm against the floor and forced himself upright, gathering his feet underneath him. So what. The Old Maid. They'd seen it before. The arm got stitched back together. The Soul got put back in place.
But every-time it left there was a bit of empty, a bit of blank and quiet, as if he hadn't been in his body and the bones had caved inside and his heart had forgotten it served a function. When the Old Maid took the Persona, it took the inside mirror, and feeling nothing, though Buddhist in intention, would have been terrifying if terror could be felt. Instead, it was a mystifying wall. There's nothing left to do but shoot. Without Hyperion, and figuratively, without his goals in mind, the world became a void, a vacant thing.
Tatsuya slid to assist Maya after the blast from the Old Maid.
He wished the Old Maid would stay, and he'd never return at all.
He aimed his gun and shot.
Maya's lips broke into a sudden, alarmed shout. Good? Bad? He hadn't focused on her eyes, and just now saw the rest of her come into focus. The trendy leather shirt - the long leather skirt -
Ah -- was it done?
Had he killed him?
His head pounding; his arm screaming;
had he killed him? Was it really done?
Saved the world? Done it? Really? All together? Complete? Ready? Would she be proud?
Maya's flying hug was met with a cry of pain, but Katsuya caught her regardless. It only lasted comparitively short - she slipped from him to his brother in an embrace twice as long - but he couldn't help it.
He'd forgotten it hurt.
[Katsuya woke, but only fluttered his eyes open -- waking to a headache again, but he'd be damned if he'd bake muffins to fix this. The dirt bed he'd found stuck to his sweat-coated skin, but his breath was still, blank. He felt as if he'd been meditating. The blankness, serenity and empty terror of the Old Maid still lingered with him as he drew one of his last cigarettes and lit it in the gloom. When it was done, he muttered to himself about most likely having a long day, and lay back down to try and sleep through something else.]