GO IN PEACE.

 A VIVISECTION OF ME           

{{ *BREATHES DEEPLY* LISTEN AAAAUUUGH I'm being dragged out of my grave right now and I am waking Takaya up with me because--

OH my GOD Takaya with the demon patterns he hides under tattoos like he hides his experimentation scars??? He already has the eyes--

"I'm the only one who'll love your sins, feel the way my voice gets underneath your skin"

Preaching to the choir?? Thanks for the pain cause it's got me going viral?? LIKE.... you can just HEAR team Strega... and the way the song is darkness aligned of course, self destructive and about giving up on self improvement, just accepting that its all hopeless and celebrating the end... it is truly The Brand.

✞  ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ So much heartache, so much desperation... They don't have to say it-- he can see, with those piercing, unnatural eyes of his. A sixth sense. Call it a gift... Isn't it strange? The god of darkness finds its way into the cracks of even the purest of intent. Even in the people who actively seek to destroy him... A paradox, of sorts.

❝ Trying to find a cure for the human condition are we? Ambitious, if nothing else... ❞ So is he. His pill is harder to swallow but it is fast acting-- instant, if his aim is good. So he finds himself fascinated, almost a respect for how close they are to understanding the need for radical change. Even if he knows they are just a different kind of blind.

His lip tugs down on one side as he scowls. ❝ But, at this rate, you will never be whole. Not so long as you deny that the darkness IS you-- as is the darkness all of mankind... There is no separation, no "pure" you to find beneath. To destroy a shadow you can only destroy what casts it... ❞

This strange, tall, and pale man was a figure in white. Just a hooded cloak he wears nowadays, hiding his usual tatted, and gaunt appearance. And his beloved gun. You would never guess he was an agent of the black and terrible Erebus, if not for those tired, tired eyes. He steps slowly towards them, with an unflinching stare as if he was looking for something in the other, but offers a hand almost as if welcoming them.

✞  ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ " With those who share your experiences, and who truly accept the inevitable nature of your end... Where else could you possibly belong? "

Why did the would-be shepherd insist on wrangling his sheep? No one thinks to ask, it comes so naturally to all those who escaped the labs. Survival instincts, you might guess, a desire to move in packs. Empathy, even. Just the faintest opportunity for self-doubt is met with reassurance of the right ideals, the very ideals that survived them this long, dissuade losing hope-- getting hurt. Or perhaps it was something else, something gently, proudly, hopelessly unspoken.

The leader takes a few steps closer and cranes his head as if to catch their eyes in his. They were soft, as calm and utterly confident as always, but his subtle stare was steady and constant. " Do you think there is anyone else out there that could even resemble you and I? " His tone paint the very idea as funny. He gestures vaguely out into their surroundings with one hand, nearly waving them off-- dismissive, unimportant, unwanted. " Let us not forget how exceptional our existence is... these other people of the world-- they not only want those they connect with to have a tomorrow but expect it... they do not understand what we do-- and it will make them act ridiculously toward you... " Not to mention their propensity for ending lives tends to be frowned upon...

✞  ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ " ...Why? You have resisted us with this much conviction and you don't even know why? "

One last meeting. One last semi-friendly talk. He's turned the whole city against her, made a party of a funeral, and now they meet him here, with the very distant thump of a club beat, his cigarette crushed beneath his heel, his golden eyes flicking up in disbelief. He knows full well why he is doing this-- he is fighting to keep what little of his existence is actually his own after being at the mercy of others so long. His memories, his purpose-- the catharsis of seeing the world finally understand everything he and those like him have ever felt. A happy ending-- for everyone who suffers. The world they want is a fate worse than death for him and Jin.

What are they fighting for? To keep living? More of the same? Overrated. But... as he thinks deeper about exactly what it is he's being asked, he slowly smiles as he begins to laugh, a haggard and delirious sound before his long hand comes to pinch his brow.

" Or... are you asking me why it had to be us fighting to decide fate..? I imagine the great martyrs of the past asked themselves the very same thing... But they all had something in common. The truth is-- they had no choice. " He placidly shrugs.

" Our fate is always at the mercy of something beyond ourselves... and these gifts we wield are but fingers on the scale, given to us by something we cannot control. Be it a god... luck... or... affliction... " He gives a faint and bitter smile.

✞  ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ He blinks innocently, slow and languidly. " ... Do my eyes unnerve you? I apologize... I have been accused of having a... intense gaze. " To say the least.

His eyes could pierce the heart and pull something out of you on their way out. They're the eyes of one's truest self, after all, is it any surprise they invoke a feeling of unease? But he is giving them his attention for a reason-- passively, idly, he is not one to get his hopes up for anyone, but he is also not one to ignore opportunity... He's drawn to people with a certain potential, and those people, they're drawn to him. He doesn't know why-- an intuition he's born with. He has to trust when something hooks his gaze and holds his attention, have faith that there just might be a reason, even if he hasn't quite spotted it yet in the subtle expressions of their face.

✞  ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  ❝ In my defense-- you did say you were bored, did you not? ❞

It seems he's caused them both to enter into another shadow realm. That is what the society of nyx calls these other worlds-- these liminal spaces where the veil parts and the true self speaks. Playgrounds for the gods. But what game is this one for? At the start of things like this-- he doesn't question it, just jumps head first. He's been in search of this for too long to hesitate. And, of course, leaps of faith are easy when one doesn't fear death.

But, maybe he dragged along this… man in a suit… in his haste. Alas, it is not like he deliberately means to interfere with their clearly restful and indifferent existence. Interference is always unwelcome, especially as someone not a part of his beliefs. Were it up to him, of course, he would do everything completely and utterly alone. But, fate holds the cards. And he is never impersonable.

{{ i swear I will answer all those asks I got earlier, i am very happy to have them im just super busy, but listen ok i found two takaya songs-- }}