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

[wants_the_phd]

[yoink!]

[Going to try to resonate and cast in the same movement before Garland can break her other leg. wish her luck.]

[finalbows]

[ you heal it. it's like it never happened. your body is still brimming with mana.

Garland says one word. ]

"Time."

[ 47 seconds, you immediately know. Tell him? ]

[wants_the_phd]

42 seconds.

[finalbows]

"Incorrect."

[ a red glow surrounds your other leg.

it snaps like a twig. ]

"Heal it."

[wants_the_phd]

[Fuck's sake]

[HEALS IT]

[finalbows]

"Time."

[ you were faster. 40 seconds. ]

[wants_the_phd]

[WHY DID IT TAKE AN ENTIRE 40 SECONDS]

40 seconds.

[finalbows]

[ he shares your views, saying, ]

"Inadequate.
Again."

[ snap.
an arm. ]

[wants_the_phd]

[--FUCK!!]

[HEALS IT FASTER]

[finalbows]

"Time."

[ 28 seconds. turns out arms are either easier, or you're getting better at this due to the crash course. Or both? ]

"Again."

[ Snap. The other arm. ]

[wants_the_phd]

[Her eyes flash and the Mask of the Servant disintegrates off her face like it was burned up from the inside, leaving Mask of the Rose behind.]

—STOP.

[An explosion of green erupts from the floor everywhere within a 10-ft radius of garland as the thorniest possible vines grasp at his arms, his cloak, his face, and fly clean over his head in an effort to create a solid dome of thorns over him, to pull him to the ground, to CRUSH]

[(also she heals her arm)]

1/2

[finalbows]

[ x3 BOOSTED VINE CAGE CRUMPLES THE OLD MAN'S ARMOR, ONE GAUNTLETED HAND STICKING OUT-- ]

[finalbows]

[ that suddenly grips down on a handful of vines.

they start withering. curling up black and dead, falling through his fingers.



seems bad. ]

1/2

[wants_the_phd]

[Beside the first vine pile, another vine pile begins to shoot from the floor. Canes, each the thickness of a wrist, coil and twist around each other as they grow longer and taller, forming a tangled basketweave studded with thorns as sharp as claws.]

[The pile of writhing, twisting vines layers itself in deliberate ropes and coils, until it takes the shape of a massive dragon's head on a short length of neck, with clusters of wild roses for eyes and needle-sharp, foot-long thorns for teeth.]

[wants_the_phd]

[The dragon's head lunges in his direction, mouth agape, and the last remaining crumbles of vine holding Garland down suddenly yank away, leaving him off-balance and exposed —

- The jaws hit him like a train, crunching right into his middle, thorn teeth driving in around his exposed function ball.]

[finalbows]

[ yeah man. right in the massive exposed weak point.


she brings the jaws down around that precious red pearl,



the ruler of dead and dreaming Terra falls limp, an empty doll. The coils and coils of vines had damaged his mask. There's only half of it left, and the gold paint of what's left is peeling in patches.

Underneath, it's just another black mask of the servant, after all. ]

[wants_the_phd]

[The dragon lifts him right off the ground and shakes him violently like a dog with a toy.]

[The mask goes flying, clattering across the platform Azdaja's standing on.]

[She marches over to it and stomps on it with Angie's stupid huge foot. It cracks in half.]

[finalbows]

[ Gained(?) TWO 1/4TH CHUNKS of MASK OF THE KING. Nice. ]

[ feel better? gotten it out of your system?

ready to go back to that rainy meadow? ]

[wants_the_phd]

[yeah]

[she needs to kick angie]

[finalbows]

[ kind of hard to kick him immediately when he's practically in your lap holding a hand over your mouth to see if you're still breathing. ]

[wants_the_phd]

[that's true.]

[Punches him.]

[finalbows]

[ CRACK!



backwards he goes, hands clutching at his newly-cracked death mask. ]

[wants_the_phd]

[hisses and shakes out her hand. ow ow own.]

[normally she punches like an 8 year old so that mask must have been made out of potato chip at this point.]

[finalbows]

[ BASICALLY YEAH ]

Ow, ow, ow, ow, why does it feel like having cracks in the skin of your face...!

[wants_the_phd]

You're wearing the wrong mask, dummy!

[She reaches into her bag and pulls out the Mask of Rebellion, then presses it onto his face.]