GOD OF CHAOS.

The god’s attention is undivided upon this enigmatic being. Even with the growing sense of dread in his vessel’s mind, Grimm’s smile only grows. How unfortunate that he can’t yet learn what happens next.

“My apologies. I do not fear nightmare, dear child, nor much else. But nightmare in particular is intimately familiar with me.”

Testing the waters, it can tell to some extent that this isn’t a bluff-- that when it reaches out to feed upon whatever negative emotion it can tease forth, there is disappointingly little that it can tangibly sense. And for some reason... it fascinates them.

Midna was not an easily startled woman, and was certainly no stranger to things suddenly appearing from the shadows. More often than not, she was that thing! So while it might be disappointing for Majora, it should not be surprising that Midna was largely unreactive—more just amused, really.

“My, what’s this? Such a demand, from one little imp to another?” She tapped her chin, as if in thought. “And what if I said… no?”

They run around her in continual circles. “Bow! Bow! Bow!” They demand, despite her hesitance, but fortunately for her, they don’t expect her to follow their commands.

Yet.

They run until, before long, they dizzily flop onto the ground, laughing to themselves. Wooden mask turned to the sky-- and then shifting ever so slightly to look at Midna again as the laughter finally dies down.

the greeting stirs caution in vessel & occupant alike . the SOUL had never issued its commands with words , only formlessly urged kris’ body like an involuntary tick . to be intruded upon in the conceptual space the two of them share , no matter the ire kris may feel for the red thing pulsing inside them , is a mutual cause for concern ; yet the compulsion to forsake the mask as quickly as the SOUL had taken it in hand never comes . kris understands the reason implicitl : they know the its calculated interest , its fixation on objects of power , its willingness to turn them & their friends into the means by which it acquires them , always guiding them to victory in the end , but not before enough blood & dust alike had spilled & mixed into a sickening paste underfoot .

the SOUL wants this mask . but it does not want the mask within .

“ … ” the mask is greeted with silence — kris’ silence , for which neither pill nor physician had found a cure . it has melted into the space between kris & the red in their chest , its presence tangible , yet incorporeal ; they feel it press & pry but go no further . halted , by what , kris does not begin to know . only grateful they have only one other will to contend with .

( & yet , if the mask can invade their mind with ease , what could it do to the SOUL … ? )

the impulse to speak comes . it’s the SOUL’s doing .

“ what are you ? ” it asks gently aloud . kris is surprised by the question — the SOUL had never before asked that . it had always guided kris as if it knew what was to come .

It can’t quite gauge what is going on within this one’s head-- not simply for a sore lack of power, but also because there is something strange, something foreign sitting precisely in the psyche where Majora would usually settle itself with ease. Curious...

...and annoying.

clumsy even on the best of days, with her nose in her notebook, noelle doesn’t stand a chance. her knees buckle, arms flailing helplessly, and she screeches a terrified falsetto before crashing to the ground. the book and pen follow shortly after— and with them, an hour of research scatters to the winds.

                     "l-l-l-let go!“ she wails, shaking her head with panicked desperation to try and free her horns from their grasp. "my notes! no! let go!!”

Now this is the sort of chaos they’ve been craving. “I don’t want to!” They bark, clinging to the horns for dear life. Yanking back with zero regard for whether or not it might hurt.

Even though the creature’s lack of a head is shocking, Grimm’s expression does not change. In fact, one might even say the god of nightmare is even more captivated.

“Such an extravagant mask would not suit me, I’m afraid,” Grimm answers with a laugh. It’s not really why he declines, but it’s not wrong, either. “You must be one who appreciates the fine qualities of masks, no? All in my troupe wear them, yes… To change one’s face… Tell me, my friend. Who are you, that graces the presence of Grimm?”

“Ehehe.” The laugh Majora responds with in kind is flatter this time as, instead of placing the mask back upon the voided face, allows it to hover slightly above its palm. “No... I think it would suit you very much. Some faces are just that much better than others.”

“Who am I?” The voice begins to lose its childish edge, but doesn’t yet cross the line into menacing. “Who am I... you... don’t already know who I am?”

A dark energy radiates from the hovering mask. In the back of Grimm’s head comes a horrific scratching, nails against chalkboard-- and if one were to look, and not blink, tendrils of evil crawl forth from the back of the mask, spreading out like a mantis’ limbs, preparing to strike...

                carmine eyes trace the mask’s contours with dull regard , not for lack of interest but a deadening of emotions kris has known for as long as they’ve been called such . schizoid personality disorder , the phds declared to anxious mother & father alike , at a time when it was mother & , not mother or .

                the dealmaker , taken from spamton’s string-entangled corpse ( the second one , the true one ) rang with the same dark promise this mask does now . they deign to touch it — lured , perhaps , by the familiar vacancy of its gaze . the ordinary grain of painted wood beneath their fingertips does little to quell their distrust , but their hesitance is worth little — the SOUL which residents in their hollow chest allows for a single pulse of inaction before kris’ arms move of its will rather than their own . it places the mask upon their lap .

The touch is enough; the bait set and taken, and now instead of a simple allure to be resisted, there is a hook to wriggle free from, however shallow the entanglement. At once Majora reaches out to probe for weakness, to find the shadows of the soul within to exploit for its own gains. But any power it once had has been whisked away with the wind.

Grimm stops what he’s doing, slowly eyeing this thing he’s attracted with narrow scarlet. It’s as much of a ‘thing’ as he himself is. The only feature it seems to possess is the mask… but quite a mask it is. Hypnotizing. How very coincidental, considering how important masks were in the land from which he came.

To change a face… to conceal it fully within another. A new being arises.

“Indeed. A dancer of flame and a magician of dream, I am,” responds Grimm. The show of which they speak is awfully sinister sounding. “Is that so, however? Allow me to guess—you’ve been weakened by this realm… and we cannot play fully as we wish under such circumstances. But you have intrigued the Troupe Master, my friend. The mask you possess…”

…has a sinking, terrible sense of power.

“My mask?” They echo, with a delightfully sinister giggle. Reaching up without hesitation, they take it off, and the illusion of a face beneath is shattered. There is nothing beneath the wooden heart but a pitch black void, and yet they offer the mask to the other as though nothing is wrong.

Pyx blinks owlishly at the odd being, not even flinching at the sudden shriek. They’ve spent enough time around ghosts with a similar sense of humor that they’ve gained an immunity to such surprises, even if they do still wince ever so slightly at how loud the cry is.

They shake their head no. “…Good try?” they offer. The ghosts they knew seemed to like it when they said that, otherwise being disappointed that their scare attempt didn’t work.

Majora falls from the tree, flipping in the air with unnatural grace to land on their feet-- but their cloak remains draped over their face, caught on the pointed spikes of their mask. They don’t bother fixing it, scuttling closer to the strange being instead. Their walk is unsteady, but that’s not because of the fabric covering their supposed face.

things have been weird since showing up here, even this strange unexplainable sick feeling she’s been having to endure. when she was approached by, well she didn’t know what. nyx pulled away when the voice reached her ear, she turned to face the mystery. 

“ I didn’t really think anyone would notice so fast, no point in hiding it . You sure are a weird one though. ” monsters were a day to day experience, she wouldn’t scare that easily.  

They don’t make an attempt to breach her personal bubble again when she pulls away, but Majora does tilt their head to one side, a little farther than a normal human’s might go. “How could I not? You stink!”