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]

[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.]

[finalbows]

[ he stills, as the mask of rebellion is laid against his broken death mask.


it melts in her hands, bubbling away into a tar that seals over the blue, forming horns, a wicked grin.


...tentaively, he touches it. it leaves a smudge on his fingers. still a little sticky. ]

[wants_the_phd]

Don't you remember? The years you spent searching for Alexander? All those plans you laid? Booting that old fuck off a cliff?

[finalbows]

[ the mask cures before her eyes. looks more solid. gains a stable sheen. ]

"I... hid all of that. Didn't I. Still pretended like I was serving Terra, but really..."

[wants_the_phd]

Do you remember now?

When it was you made that decision?

[finalbows]

[ he holds his head liek the question makes him dizzy. murmurs, "It must have been the day that I--" ]

~ which mask to wear? ~

MASK WITH NO MEANING
"Looked into that beautiful pool of water."

MASK OF THE END
"Razed that settlement to the ground."


[ neither of these feel quite right. ]

[wants_the_phd]

[Why are you asking her? She doesn't fucking know. She already gave him the Rebellion mask. He's the only one between the two of them who knows this lore. Make him pick.]

[finalbows]

[ he presses both hands against his face, holding fast to the mask he's already wearing. looking like he's struggling to keep it from changing on him again. ]

"I-it was-- when--"


[ the rain stops.

the sun is warm and bright. the scent and vapor rising from the ground right after the rain is fresh, like life. mist, not Mist.

his voice is strangely meek. awed, at something. someone? ]


"Was it really... that early?
Was it really just as soon as... that first time... I saw the sky?"

[ the answer is obvious. ]

[wants_the_phd]

[Is another, more genuine mask trying to break through? Hmm.]

What's it like, reflecting on that fact?

[finalbows]

[ complaining, ]

It hurts. Obviously. Do I look relaxed, Miss Wild Rose? I'm... I'm not! I'm mad for how long I pretended to myself otherwise! I'm mad I never had a CHANCE, trying to please that man!

[ he's starting to literally have steam rise off of him. ]

I'm mad because of how much I really, really wanted to, and then, whoops, I see a pretty cloud overhead and suddenly I just knew, I couldn't! Ever! Live to serve him!



[ heavy breathing. pensive, ]
...Damn.

You turned around and won our game after all.

[ she, in fact, got it just right.]

[wants_the_phd]

Yeah? What do I win?

[finalbows]

"This, you smug bastard.".

[ he lunges on her, shadowy mien replaced by a pillar of flame--
it doesn't burn?

except for a spot where his hands find her neck, searing four tiny Terran letters into the skin, that if she reads them--

for some reason, her eyes shall simply refuse to read what they say.

"K̴̼̒͛͛̔̆́ù̵̮̰͎̝̣̼͑̒j̷̛̫̅̃̀͂͘͘͝a̶̡̡̦̱̲̓̃́́ͅ."]

_{"Certainty. And a challenge.
You may win, here and there. But I'll never let you rest on your laurels. We'll always know who, here, belongs to who, in the end."}

[ with that last hiss, he burns himself away, back where he should be. ]

1/3

[wants_the_phd]

[Congrats, that startles the SHIT out of her. Definitely wasn't expecting him to turn into literal fire and leap at her face. She flinches and yelps, trying to rip into his chest with the claws that have curled, unbidden, from her fingertips -- but they pass straight through, of course.]

[wants_the_phd]

[And then he's gone.]

[She rubs at the burn on her neck, still stinging, unaware yet of the mark it left.]

We'll see, you bastard... don't think I'm going to make things easy on you, either.

[wants_the_phd]

[Grumbling as she starts getting up to go.]

Don't even know why I'm trying to help you, you piece of shit. You better live a long life so you can spend all of it repaying me. Asshole.

[One last look around, and if nothing immediately obvious comes to her attention, she's going to head off toward the Sunset Coast.]