snip snip
Who: Adachi Tohru (implausibility) and, in no particular order: Jan, Godot, Malik, Isamu, Nagi, Ikutsuki
When: Hours after sirens, forward-dated to Friday evening.
Where: Outskirts of downtown Siren's Port.
Summary: You don't snip the strings of a puppet without it crashing to the ground.
Warnings: I guess it's a little late to say spoilers for Persona 4... Also, chances are, there'll be a lot of backtagging even though I've forward-dated this because I am SO SLOW I'M SORRY. ;;;
No.
Adachi kicked away the small monster's limp body, his foot making a sickening crunch as it made contact with its ribs, and the sound sent a shudder down his spine. Just monsters, he reminded himself, steadying his breath. They weren't even Shadows, who were strangely human in some sense. These were just wild animals, this was just self-defense. He couldn't be blamed for it; he wasn't at fault.
Maybe it was a sort of masochism, but then again, he had never quite seen the appeal of pain. No, it was more like...having a loose tooth when you were a child, and it was wiggling just enough that it was bothersome, but it was held into your gum by just enough veins that it was still painful when you tried to pull it out, so slowly, you nudged it this way and that, enduring that lesser, bearable ache, so that finally you could snap it out and you'd be done with that. You'd be free. Exactly - that was it exactly - he was trying to wean it out of him, whatever 'it' was, whatever it had been that Yaha had felt inside and couldn't even touch for all his conniving, wily ways.
Every time he summoned his persona, the Thing gave a little lurch, like it was going to pop out, but it never did. If he did it enough, then he was sure, it would - it'd have to, because it was probably sick of being yanked at like that by now, surely. Anytime now, it'd snap loose; he'd be able to pry it out.
"C-c'mon," he said, hearing the low-pitched growling coming from his left. He laughed under his breath, from underneath the hand clawed into the right half of his face, and sometimes, when the light hit just right from the stray beam of a distant streetlight, or perhaps from the moon, his eye seemed to flash yellow.
So like the rest of them, you wanted to be free?
When: Hours after sirens, forward-dated to Friday evening.
Where: Outskirts of downtown Siren's Port.
Summary: You don't snip the strings of a puppet without it crashing to the ground.
Warnings: I guess it's a little late to say spoilers for Persona 4... Also, chances are, there'll be a lot of backtagging even though I've forward-dated this because I am SO SLOW I'M SORRY. ;;;
No.
Adachi kicked away the small monster's limp body, his foot making a sickening crunch as it made contact with its ribs, and the sound sent a shudder down his spine. Just monsters, he reminded himself, steadying his breath. They weren't even Shadows, who were strangely human in some sense. These were just wild animals, this was just self-defense. He couldn't be blamed for it; he wasn't at fault.
Maybe it was a sort of masochism, but then again, he had never quite seen the appeal of pain. No, it was more like...having a loose tooth when you were a child, and it was wiggling just enough that it was bothersome, but it was held into your gum by just enough veins that it was still painful when you tried to pull it out, so slowly, you nudged it this way and that, enduring that lesser, bearable ache, so that finally you could snap it out and you'd be done with that. You'd be free. Exactly - that was it exactly - he was trying to wean it out of him, whatever 'it' was, whatever it had been that Yaha had felt inside and couldn't even touch for all his conniving, wily ways.
Every time he summoned his persona, the Thing gave a little lurch, like it was going to pop out, but it never did. If he did it enough, then he was sure, it would - it'd have to, because it was probably sick of being yanked at like that by now, surely. Anytime now, it'd snap loose; he'd be able to pry it out.
"C-c'mon," he said, hearing the low-pitched growling coming from his left. He laughed under his breath, from underneath the hand clawed into the right half of his face, and sometimes, when the light hit just right from the stray beam of a distant streetlight, or perhaps from the moon, his eye seemed to flash yellow.
So like the rest of them, you wanted to be free?