HEARTGAME DRESS REHEARSAL

[finalbows]

thank u rah u hero

tracking sheet
 

[ ..somewhere in the pasture, Angel Devil falls down.
His clothes have twisted away into bone-white rags, leaving a body covered over with only thick swathes of red fur, and downy feathers. His long tail is curled into a tense arc, banded fur standing on end.

The air wavers like he’s a heat mirage, not a man. He’s boiling away with absolutely stupid amounts of arcane power… and, most frighteningly, he does not seem in control of the fact that it is there and being brought to bear. It’s impossible to get any closer to him.


When he speaks, it’s quite timid. ]

Ah,
I thought… I had a little more time.

[ (and in a blinding flash of light, there is the sound of something breaking.) ]

~KRRSHHK~

[any observers will see, strangely see-through and superimposed on the scene, some kind of vast tree, illusionary roots twisting over and around to frame a door.  the door itself is wrought of opaque stained glass in blacks and whites and greys; a stylized rendition of Angie in that strangely ragged, feathered form, curled in on himself, eyes closed.  Angie himself is nowhere to be seen. ]

instead, a shadow . . . steps into view from behind the door.  for a moment it looks like nothing so much as a second genome – then it turns, gaining features and definition with the movement.  The monkey tail separates into three plumes; a ponytail unfurls into wings that lift up from the sides of the head.  

Teleute(?) is here, dressed in her customary black, but there is colour in her skin, and her hair and eyes are blue.  she’s frowning.]

. . . well.  This is the least I can do before I go, in exchange for the safe harbor.

[she lifts her head, nodding to any observers, and gestures at the door.]

You’ll want to head in there now if you don’t wish to lose your flockmate, I think.  Even the false-death of this place won’t be much help to him, if his soul is left to finish pulling itself apart.

My sisters and I can maintain the way into and out of it for you, but we were not made to knit such wounds by ourselves.  Have a care.

Comments

3/3

[finalbows]

[ did you know he has rough notes speculating on your sleep schedule, and they're not all that off the mark?

...that he has a dumb series of doodles of him pushing you into a mud puddle, only for you to find a snail in it and start making googly eyes at it?

did you know he has little drawings of your fully dragon body, hidden away in here? some sketches with especial detail of the way your jaw can unfold?

did you know he has an inked diagram of a labor caste zmeu's anatomy, with little red circles drawn in various spots with question marks beside them?

he's written down speculations, summaries on the dreams he reasonably believes the two of you have shared. a glaring question, underlined at the end of a recent one:
how long until someone notices a chip has lived too long?



...there are seven pages of him workshopping the fucking torture sonnet. ]

[wants_the_phd]

[okay, some of this is,

unnerving,

but also not that far off from what she expected. also she continues to be touched by that exquisitely crafted torture threat, truly one of the finest ones she's received.]

[Now that she's gotten to the section on her, she slows down her furious page-turning, paying closer attention.]

[What does he know about Pulmungt? Specifically, crimes.]

[finalbows]

murder: fine
cannibalism: part of a well-balanced diet
sex: ALSO part of a well-balanced diet???
magic: illegal, you die. """not real""". emperor does miracles, not you schlubs
sedition: illegal you die
defying class standards: death probably
deviation from assigned humanoid form: death
deviation, deformity, physical: culling
no little chippy thing: illegal you die?
HOPES AND DREAMS: illegal you die I don't think they can persecute you for thoughtcrimes quite yet because I know how she is under there

1/2

[wants_the_phd]

[She's grabbing whatever writing implements she can find on his desk and making some gentle revisions. It would be too obvious if she just struck it out completely, so:

magic: fine, but the knowledge of everything except basic human shape has been lost to time.

...Oh yeah and

sex: important for good mental and physical health

she'll give him that one for free.]

[wants_the_phd]

[she's sorely tempted to fill in the rest of the zmeu anatomical details like it's a fun quiz on the backside of a cereal box but he's making her work for the crystal stuff, so she'll let him have something to work on, too. Because she's thoughtful like that.]

[she puts the notebooks carefully back where she found them.]

[Important question: is azdaja wearing her messenger bag right now?]

[finalbows]

[ does azdaja personally feel like it is an integral part of her mental character design for herself?*


if so, yes, absolutely.
if not, angie does have that cute rose clutch purse.


_{*yes this does mean she could also have the machete} ]

[wants_the_phd]

[Yes. she never leaves home without her bag. it's where she keeps her notebook and her emotional support machete.]

[And also one dozen little blue crystals wrapped in paper.]

[what part of this room looks like the place where he keeps his most precious things?]

[finalbows]

[ AZDAJA I'M SO EMO????


...anyway.
she finds a very weathered box that's shoved up under the bed, hidden where he can ignore its existence as much as he wants.
inside...

scattered shreds of confetti,
a lock of green hair,
a pinch of yellow genome fur,
a tawny gryphon feather,
a piece of black antler,
a lock of blue hair, tied up along with a tuft of brown fur,
a smaller feather, black as pitch,
a pinch of a baby zmeu's scales.

and a music box, whose key starts turning and whose tune starts to play, when she brushes her hand over it.

plenty of room for little blue crystals. ]

1/2

[wants_the_phd]

[One by one, she tucks each crystal in the box, making sure they don't crowd any of these other beloved treasures. She does this all with great care, making sure not to even rumple any of the feathers.]

[She closes the lid, and replaces the box where she found it.]

[wants_the_phd]

[alright. those important things out of the way, is there anything in this room that otherwise seems amiss, broken, or smells of rot?]

[finalbows]

[ no. this room has managed to stay, for now, intact. there is safety here.
but when she takes that second look around, she might actually notice a little gryphon cube asleep on the bed, nested deep in the pillow pile. was he always there? ...shh. don't wake him.

...is that the corner of a mask, beside him? ]

[wants_the_phd]

[IS it a corner of a mask?]

[she's going to attempt some sleight of hand do see if she can gently pull it out without waking him.]

[finalbows]

[ it is.

with some fastidious jiggling and pausing, she manages to slide it free, though there's a couple of close calls and tiny sleepy peep-peeps.

Gained MASK OF TENDERNESS.


this mask is light as a feather.
...where'd you put that mask of cruelty, anyway? are those masks both going in the messenger bag? ]

[wants_the_phd]

[the mask of cruelty is going in the bag, yes, now that we have established that exists.]

[the mask of tenderness is going on her face to see if anything changes.]

[finalbows]

[ the light coming in through the window is softer, brighter.
the rainfall was nice before, but it's like... you can appreciate it even more now?

you just feel. nice.
it sort of hurts. "nice" also feels strangely like "despair."
but it's still nice, nonetheless. ]

[wants_the_phd]

[Hmm. Well, she's filing that info away. But for now, she's putting this one in her bag, too. She doesn't want to miss anything important due to wearing rose-colored glasses.]

[She leaves the room, shutting the door softly behind her, and goes to do a cursory lap around the barn to check for anything that seems broken or rotten.]

[finalbows]

[ well. let's see what we find, if we are contriving to dive as deep as we can.

the room akrinak never used has had every object in it smashed to smithereens.
the doorknob to what used to be shadow fiend's room breaks off in her hand, and cannot be cajoled open at all.

the kitchen is fine. spotlessly clean. there are bowls and sticks of ice cream out on the table, abandoned but not yet melted.

oh, and
the underground obstacle course is overrun with Mist, tree roots, and dark, stony thorns.


a red crystal once again hangs on a ribbon from azdaja's own doorknob. ]

[wants_the_phd]

[looks at underground obstacle course

s... sweats

...we're going to check out this crystal to see if it contains any hints on how to congeal mist into something less... harmful.]

[finalbows]

[ gonna be frank it WAS gonna be worse but luckily we just had a 100+ comment thread that removed Literally You as an unskippable miniboss of that segment. gg az

this version of the little red crystal doesn't have a 400+ word monologue in it,
but it does helpfully offer you knowledge of the spell Life in your time of need.

depressingly, it does not restore the dead back to life, but it does temporarily get the GRIEVOUSLY WOUNDED back on their feet enough to keep fighting through a moment of crisis so that they can be stabilized later.

which, y'know. is in fact exactly what you need right now...
...but you need to have a precise target for that to work.

_{also you've never cast a full mana-nomming spell on purpose outside of the confines of your own body before, are you ready???} ]

[wants_the_phd]

[Oh damn, she was almost a miniboss?! She would LOVE to know she crushed him that hard. Truly sublime.]

[But now that she has the crystal and the Life knowledge therein, we are plunging into the pool that marks the entrance of the obstacle course. we goin' in, bitches]

[finalbows]

[ splish splash!

without a mask on, the wails and moans and despair of the dense Mist begin to choke your throat once again.

...

remember how the obstacle course suppresses your magic (except for flock powers) while you're in it?
that seems to still be true inside of his heart.


maybe that's not surprising.
but there IS a part of the place where you CAN use magic, isn't there? very, very deep in. ]

[wants_the_phd]

[wait i just saw the edit. how much mana are we talking, exactly.]

[she's still going in, but. sweats.]

[finalbows]

[ "Life" is normally 8 MP, but...
You aren't... a naturally "giving" person, Azdaja...... and you're still a novice mage...



It's 24 MP a cast. ]

[wants_the_phd]

[wow. how dare you be correct about that]

[it's gross in here, for mysterious reasons we couldn't possibly be responsible for. what if she puts on the mask of tenderness?]

[finalbows]

[ well,
the music goes from this to

THIS,

and abruptly you can breathe again. you feel like gasping. the water goes from awfully cold to merely bracingly cold.

wearing this mask in this place makes you feel so, so vulnerable. weak. tender, as in raw and easy to harm.

but it also allows you to tolerate existing within it. ]