chimes: (self)
The doors creaked open, light streaking through them, and the traveler peered around its surroundings one more time, the chorus of the creatures moving through the mist echoing in the space around.

But its journey was not yet over. There was still more it had yet to travel. It took a step forward, one, and then two, and then the traveler was running, running towards the light emancipating from the huge doorway--

And then it was through. Cold and damp soaked through its cloak and pressed into its form, its legs sinking down like it had into the sand. Frost began to edge along its scarf, and in the distance...

In the distance, the traveler saw another form.
moonlitmirror: (subtly prompted)
In the span of breath there was a girl whose hair rivaled dust and eyes that spoke of the core of soft sunsets. Neither, in the end, would suit. She was a thing of quiet nights and empty alleys; leaking pipes and storefront apartments. But still, it remained.

Yin remained.

Even after that night.

So, in the breath taken inward, she sits on the bench in the park, feet trailing dirt and eyes trickling after. It is dusk, gloom and shadow, and still she is out, without orders and without motive--

A choice made. A choice of her own.
hakai: (judge)
[ The bullet leaves the Contender, the pillar absorbs it effortlessly, and a beat only is enough for the process to perfect itself and hold. Kiritsugu witnesses the perfect absolution of a magi's final magecraft, and--

And suddenly, there is darkness, whole and complete.

His hands drop to his guns--he takes a step back, casting his eyes around for sources of light. It is the moment before he starts the process of adding nighttime sight to his eyes that the scenery rushes towards him, like a train speeding past, and Kiritsugu--

Kiritsugu is standing before a Japanese house, silent and still. It's not one he recognizes-- It is, however, a magi's residence, and he realizes this a moment after. On guard, there is a second longer, further, that he realizes--

...It's his prana on the security webbing. It's his own spellcraft circling this house.

The unfinished crest on his back throbs, and the hand with the Contender presses against it. This is--

This is a different time. ]
diamondstorm: (Default)
There was something strange in waking to an empty city, an unfortified vessel. Renamon wasn't sure how much time had passed, how long her mind had frozen in its movements, but this, at least, was not familiar. To her last recall, she had faced Tear in a pit of sand, pressed to combat for a madman's pleasure, but there was a lag behind that memory--A moment's beat that pressed her for more recall.

None came. She was here, in an unknown area, and apparently alone. Even silent as she was, her steps echoed lightly within the city's limits, and Renamon's senses stretched to take in any sensation that came.
sorrowsunset: (for)
[[from this: ⑰ Rescue! → One of you was in trouble, but you came to the rescue!]]



[ Maybe she shouldn't have strayed too far from her coterie. Home was but a memory, but family remained, even created--especially when that was all that was left. But this was a hunt, like any other, and Ari had been hunting for a long time now.

Except here, she would seem outmatched by the demonic bear rising up over her small frame, its long shadow adding to the ones already cast by the woods around her. She took a step back, watching it intently with dark green eyes.

This would take a little more effort than usual.... ]
purgatio: ([z] soft shallow signs)
There was a kind of affability attached to a brother's request that wouldn't be seen otherwise.

"Sorry, Albedo, but can you go check it out by yourself? I have to handle our landlord today."

By handle, Nigredo had meant hypnotize, of course, but that was how they had gained the ability to do much by themselves in this place. The pair of them were both more than capable of living in this low-risk (to their standards) environment. The problem came with society viewing two twelve-year-olds to be wards of the state and needing guidance.

They had already done that song and dance, thank you. And they would rather pass.

And at any rate, it was more Albedo's hobby than Nigredo's--to seek out rumors of budding technology and see if there was any use to any of it. Mainly it had been piles of useless scrap that Albedo had torn apart in verbal details as to why exactly.... But there was always that hope that there would be something more than an updated computer system.

Nigredo's agent had set up an appointment with the company (business? person? Perhaps Albedo should have actually listened to the explanation...), and the boy made his way there at the given time, moving through the door quietly on habit. The clothes worn was more of the current style than the URTV's-- A button-down striped shirt, light in color, and a pair of dress-casual slacks. Even so, he'd learned that it was the age more than the clothes that people cared about. It had become almost amusing by this point.

Stopping a few feet inside, he peered around the settings, taking in the scene.
nonsumqualiseram: (charm (your pants off))
[ In the nine rings of hell, there exists a store. A store whose only function is to trap the souls of the unwilling, and torment those unlucky enough to claim a paycheck with that company's logo. Its name is... Mattie's Super Mini-Mart--For all your life's needs.

The most evilest of evil places.

...Or maybe that was just Sarah, once again, "relishing" her perfect citizen job--an escape from the tedium of a life that required her to do nothing. A life little more than morning, noon, and night.

So she could say, in poetics and scars. So she could say, if she ever deigned to speak of herself at all.

At any rate, she was off in five minutes, and only had one more customer to ring out before she could escape. ]
repeatingfate: ([x] don't speak of tearing)
[ She had been in the library. That is what she remembers last. In the library, talking to Will and petting Diana. And then--

Nothing.

An abyss of absolute nothing. Dark and shine in tandem, and if she thinks about it, it's almost like....

Almost like a sea. A sea of worlds she knows too well.

A "reset" back to "start."

Emotions pummel her, and her mind blanks to nothing. Yes, she knows this... but something is different. There's no connection to her surroundings, even as the lowest participant. It's as if she's been reduced to an observer, and she doesn't know what that means.

She doesn't know what's going on at all. ]
purgatio: ([oblivion])
[Scorched network post, Max's broadcast mind--specifically:]

"Look--I have an expiration date. We all do."

We.

"What do you mean, we all do?" you ask.

"All of us experiments have built-in expiration dates. When someone's time is close, it shows up on the back of their neck."

So you're going to die. No matter how hard you fight, they're going to murder you. They've sabotaged you from the inside, killed you before you could even start living, and now… You wonder how soon. Recombinants don't typically last long.

Even then, you hardly feel any concern for yourself. Rather, you make a mental note to check the necks of your Flock once you get back to them.

God, you hate this place.
repeatingfate: ([m] crumbled little wings)
[ Not real. Oh, god, it's funny at this point. So funny. Because every time things fell into place, things were ruined-- A perfect world demolished by Takano's machinations, and one last chance, one last time, and when everything reset, she was--

Here. A mental institute that said none of that was real. Oh, god, it was so funny. So funny that she screamed in their face outright, and despite being "such a little girl," she was sedated off the bat.

Yeah. So funny. ]
emptysky: (:))
[ There's only darkness. Darkness, and the simple fact of falling--like in a dream, staggered and slow as if through water. Eventually when feet touch down onto something firm, light floods upward to reveal a platform, circular and colorful.

It's not all it shows.

Only for a moment, does the one already there look like Roxas, and then he's clothed in something dark, and then he's someone else altogether.

Shadows touch the edge of the platform and move around it, and the boy makes a brief face of annoyance; mutters a remembrance. ]


...Aqua. No, not....
purgatio: ([z] soft shallow signs)
The great doors of the ballroom opened at a touch, and Albedo stared into the grey light, unimpressed. A fine mist diluted sight and form, and it was all too obvious that the ones who brought forth the unlocking were supposed to step forward for the sight of what laid behind the dust and thickened air--too obvious a setup, and too trite the design.

...But, just as well, there was no point in not continuing. After a glance at his brother, Albedo stepped through the doors. Nigredo moved with him, and not two feet in, there came the sound of a slam, of heavy doors shutting. The white-haired Variant gave a sigh--just as expected--and glanced backwards. Only to tilt his head, eyebrows raising lightly. Well, now. The doors had vanished entirely, leaving nothing, so that at least broke the pattern if but slightly.

His gaze angled towards his brother. "I take it we're continuing?"
deathofdespair: (working through it)
There was an Ushiromiya that did not exist. One would think that Lion, being surrounded by family and friends that no longer recognized the successor, would be the epitome of depressed. However, much to her role within her family, she took it with dignity and grace. She greeted them warmly, said the least amount needed in order to not confuse them more than necessary, and moved on. Only with Natsuhi did Lion pause, and only before Kinzo did Lion stop altogether. Only for a moment, though. Only that.

Eventually, the niceties were out of the way, and Lion found herself alone for a moment; the crowds of happy relatives seemingly a distance away. It was appropriate, that thought. It was how it was in all worlds but Lion's own, and she had already come to terms with that. It was not as if she needed to lean on them for strength or support. She was perfectly capable of existing on her own.

Still being alive now proved as much.

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insomnis_veritas: (Default)
in dreams there is truth

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