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[!
...!!
quickly pulls his bluebell sweater off and tosses it away in a rush before he can second-guess himself. he's got a tanktop underneath and the rest of his outfit still, but THAT'S GONE]
...!!
quickly pulls his bluebell sweater off and tosses it away in a rush before he can second-guess himself. he's got a tanktop underneath and the rest of his outfit still, but THAT'S GONE]
[ his tail flicks, amused ]
You want me to spend a coin on a ritual we won anyway?
You want me to spend a coin on a ritual we won anyway?
[ muffin you are so cute he was encouraging you to show him the memory but he ain't saying no to a live showing
he rests a hand right at Muffin's fluttering heart. ]
Now that's much better. Don't go anywhere, anytime soon.
[ ...with that command, he brings the sphere of water close, to float in the space between their chests. He strokes the top of it, like it already contains something precious, by merit that it soon will. ]
This way, I can keep an eye on both of you...
he rests a hand right at Muffin's fluttering heart. ]
Now that's much better. Don't go anywhere, anytime soon.
[ ...with that command, he brings the sphere of water close, to float in the space between their chests. He strokes the top of it, like it already contains something precious, by merit that it soon will. ]
This way, I can keep an eye on both of you...
There are two.
[ no comment on the dark past part. ]
[ no comment on the dark past part. ]
How generous.
[ he considers for a moment, twirling his festive coin between his fingers ]
I suppose there's-
[ he considers for a moment, twirling his festive coin between his fingers ]
I suppose there's-
[ perhaps he's getting old. perhaps there's just a lot on his mind; perhaps the whole Pandora ordeal shook him up more than he's admitted to even Angie.
or perhaps the sheep really are learning to be little shits.
either way, while he's contemplating, a green sheep deftly yanks his remaining Clover-themed memory coin out of his pocket, and tosses it into the fountain. ]
or perhaps the sheep really are learning to be little shits.
either way, while he's contemplating, a green sheep deftly yanks his remaining Clover-themed memory coin out of his pocket, and tosses it into the fountain. ]
[ it's just... white? ]
[ Angel Devil's no fool, though. it's quite clearly a second person memory. ]
...
[ Akrinak stares, transfixed. he doesn't remember this. ]
[ Angel Devil's no fool, though. it's quite clearly a second person memory. ]
...
[ Akrinak stares, transfixed. he doesn't remember this. ]
[ it continues. remember what he said during the secrets game, about not giving a shit about his Workshop memories? Akrinak's a fucking liar. his face stays carefully blank, but his tail's taut with agitation, held a little too far from his body to not betray him.
very dryly: ]
And then we talked, solved the misunderstanding, and everyone lived happily ever after.
[ the memory's still going, though. he doesn't seem to want to intervene. ]
very dryly: ]
And then we talked, solved the misunderstanding, and everyone lived happily ever after.
[ the memory's still going, though. he doesn't seem to want to intervene. ]
[ Akrinak steals a tiny glance at his former teammate, just in case there's something. (does he want there to be something?) when there isn't, his eyes travel back to the fountain. for the grand finale. ]
...
[ he doesn't bother saying anything when the memory ends. there's nothing to say. is there? ]
...
[ he doesn't bother saying anything when the memory ends. there's nothing to say. is there? ]
[ well, there is one thing. ]
I killed him. Before I left.
[ there. ]
I killed him. Before I left.
[ there. ]
Tell me it was satisfying.
[ carefully, he picks the offending coin up out of the fountain, as if contained within it is the fact of that past torture. maybe it is.
has anyone ever tried destroying a memory coin, before?
he thinks about it. the way he holds it, now, Akrinak could easily reach over and pluck it back from his fingertips. ]
[ carefully, he picks the offending coin up out of the fountain, as if contained within it is the fact of that past torture. maybe it is.
has anyone ever tried destroying a memory coin, before?
he thinks about it. the way he holds it, now, Akrinak could easily reach over and pluck it back from his fingertips. ]
[ he just stares, pointedly ignoring the question. or... maybe he didn't even register it. he does have a slightly dazed look about him, the kind you wear when you've just been hit over the head with a brick. ]
What are you doing?
What are you doing?
[ his eyes follow its path, lips parted in a half-formed protest.
it's not about satisfaction.
it's not about how he'd felt after the fact, because it had happened anyway.
it had happened, it could never unhappen, and despite the gaping hole in his mind, despite him truly believing that he hadn't needed to remember, part of him had still wondered.
wondered if he had always been a prisoner of his own bloodlust.
wondered if he'd killed that Disciple simply because he could.
it's true, in a way.
his tale is one of twin lives: one that covets, one that spurns.
only one survives, every time.
he destroys the other.
he just can't help himself. ]
it's not about satisfaction.
it's not about how he'd felt after the fact, because it had happened anyway.
it had happened, it could never unhappen, and despite the gaping hole in his mind, despite him truly believing that he hadn't needed to remember, part of him had still wondered.
wondered if he had always been a prisoner of his own bloodlust.
wondered if he'd killed that Disciple simply because he could.
it's true, in a way.
his tale is one of twin lives: one that covets, one that spurns.
only one survives, every time.
he destroys the other.
he just can't help himself. ]
[ he blinks, shaking away the invisible droplets of his delayed stupor. ]
[ and starts laughing. there's a manic edge to it, soft, cold -- yet still fond, somehow -- an inverse reflection of yesterday's theatrics. ]
Fire really is your go-to, huh?
Fire really is your go-to, huh?
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