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

[finalbows]

[ rolls over to look at her better. ]

"How 'bout you tell me which one you think you're working on right now? Here. I'll even give you a hint."

[ he snaps his fingers.

above him, a see-through version of all 19 18 masks appear. ]

[wants_the_phd]

[the fuck is a Mask of Pudding]

Resignation.

[finalbows]

[ the joke weapon that instantly solves the heartgame, obviously ]

"Wrong~☆. But warm. Two more chances. If you win, I'll give you something fun. Just for you. Not for your little scavenger hunt."

[wants_the_phd]

[ooh fun. it's a game now.]

No Meaning?

[finalbows]

[ shifts to sit on his knees. ]

"Waaaarrmer.
If you get it wrong when you're this close, I'm gonna give you a penalty game to get you to figure it out."

[wants_the_phd]

The End.

1/2

[finalbows]

"I told you. I'm not the one that yearns to die.

Well, you agreed to the terms. So it's punishment time, naughty pet."

[ everything goes black, as she's abruptly hit with the lurching feeling of being displaced into a memory. ]

2/2

[finalbows]

[ this time, instead of being a third party observer, she's directly in Angie's weird sci-fi shoes.

she's on a platform that's rimmed with fangs.

Garland stands before her, in the golden "mask of the king."


Her leg is broken.
Her Master's command is simple. Concise. ]

"Heal it."

[wants_the_phd]

[Ah.

Mask of the Servant.]

[She's going to try and tap into angie's big juicy magic brains and try to access the method of casting Cure.]

[finalbows]

[ something glitters on the weird, squishy ground.

crystal, with what she needs. better grab it fast. that man doesn't seem to have much tolerance for frivolity. ]

[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.]