#velvetempress

Blindingly bright bursts of light makes him flinch and in a moment he’s no longer in darkness. His guard is up and Jin mentally questions where he is. The irregularity of it all has him on his toes, hair standing on its ends. The clicking of heels against expansive white causes his body to turn towards the source. Lips purse into a thin line as confusion gnaws at his nerves. He doesn’t recognize this woman and yet she seems to be making a beeline directly towards him, hips swaying with each step.

And as though the puzzle pieces have fallen together, the realization strikes him like a bolt lightning.

Oh god.

Slender fingers run through dark locks as Jin sighs. He remembers that he once read several articles on this subject and believes himself able simulate the desired outcome. How did it even come to this? Surely, it isn’t stress. No, stress doesn’t do this to him, nothing does. His free hand comes out before him, signaling for the woman to stop in her tacks.

“I am not sure how this has happened, but I do not wish for this kind of dream. I have no need for this so please go back to whatever subconscious of mine you came from.” Jin remembers that the faces of those you see in a dream are of people one has passed in their daily lives. But Jin is pretty sure he would remember someone this… different.

“I do not need this right now.” Or ever. This supposed ‘pleasure dream’ already seems more stressful than it needs be.

@velvetempress

     “Oh-- Margaret, hello,” Naoto states, surprised to see the woman again. She shouldn’t be, really (plenty of much stranger things have happened in Inaba over the last several months), but considering the context in which the two originally met--

     --Well, Naoto cannot fault herself for being startled, really.

     Goodness, what does one say upon seeing a woman such as Margaret again, though? Naoto searches her mind, frantically trying to think of something that doesn’t immediately come off as an interrogation about any number of things related to the other world and shadows and all other sorts of magical things.

And there, in the form of but two scant words—a request, brief in the extreme—was what he had been anticipating. An opportunity, an opening, created by presenting a certain key knowledge at the correct moment.

Circumstance and perception, it seemed, could be a powerful combination.

The woman clearly remained on guard, perhaps to an even greater extent now in the face of his questioning; small wonder that she answered one of his queries with a bare minimum, and outright refused to respond to the other. The retort that she had opted to give, however, was worthy of note; if she was to be believed, and this enigmatic third Denizen remained faithful to his role, then something yet unknown was occurring...that is, if the woman was indeed to be believed.

No matter; the truth would be unearthed in due time.

Silence held for several moments as the Reaper carefully weighed his next step. He could not wholly deny her request, yet neither was he disposed to comply with her bidding; to forfeit his advantage so freely would be unthinkable. Unfamiliar as he was amid such convoluted discourse, it was clear that a careful and less direct approach was required. Far removed as such a tactic was from his preferred methods, however, he would readily employ it under the current circumstances. For all the woman’s aloof and measured conduct, she was now the one in an unfavorable position, and he intended to keep it that way.

“…Theodore.”

A name…a slip of the tongue, perhaps? How very uncharacteristic of her.

Widened eyes, followed by faintly crossed brows...subtle signs, to be certain, but enough to appease the Reaper’s hungering eye. It was evident that his description had, if only briefly, caught her off guard.

A scattered memory came to bear within the Shadow’s mind, from when the woman had first informed him of, and requested his aid regarding, her renegade sister’s disappearance. On that occasion, upon being made to clarify her sibling’s misdeeds, her composure had momentarily faltered in nearly the exact same manner, the mask of reserved calm pierced to expose the hesitation and uncertainty hiding beneath.

Curious—had this ‘Theodore’ committed an offense similar to that of the woman’s sister...or was there something else at play in order to provoke such an identical reaction?

Doubtless, the woman knew the truth—it was simply a matter of uncovering it for himself.

The crossed chains clattered suddenly as the Reaper rapidly descended several feet, halting when the ends of his ragged robes brushed against the floor. His stare was hollow and dispassionate as he regarded the woman, his revolvers lowered in an unusually passive stance.

“Why...do you...wish to...know?”

The Reaper’s tone had abruptly taken on a bizarre intonation—spoken in a human’s voice, it might have been described as bland.

Incentive...? A...token of...acknowledgement?

The Reaper turned his head towards the woman with a cautious, uncomprehending stare as she circled around him, making no attempt to hide the strong skepticism and doubt that he felt. He knew, more or less, what the words ‘incentive’ and ‘acknowledgement’ meant- but the possibility that she would earnestly provide him with either at that point was unimaginable. She was either distorting the truth to hide an ulterior motive- as if such an act was even necessary- or merely taunting him, and giving him a measure of false hope before revealing her true intentions. And when the thick, gold-lined book manifested in her hands, he was absolutely certain that he had assumed correctly. As the ethereal card appeared between the book’s open pages, the Reaper used his last reserves of strength to raise his weapons and face his almost certain destruction.

What happened next, however, disturbed him infinitely more than any amount of agony and defeat could have.

Rather than a pulse of almighty light, a blast of purging flame, or anything that he might have expected, what assaulted him was a wave of pure invigoration and strength that coursed through his mangled form, restoring full strength and function wherever it touched. The Reaper’s grip on his guns, previously slack and weak, regained its vise-like strength, and his chains sprang back up into a floating position around his shoulders with a series of metallic clinks. His hideously slouched posture almost immediately straightened to its regular state, and he subconsciously rose up into a stable, imposing float.

But though the woman’s spell fully repaired his body, it could not mend his thoughts, which regressed into a chaotic, confused mess even as his wounds knitted themselves back together. Such an all-consuming rush of power and healing....it was so utterly, shockingly foreign to him. His own powers were meant to bring about destruction and death...a mighty force of restoration like this one was far beyond anything he could call upon. Nor had anyone or anything inflicted it upon him before...until now...

The woman had chosen to do so...she had deigned to heal him...but why? What could have driven her towards such a thing? Practicality could not have been her motivation- she had known that his only option was to continue assisting her, and no grudge he held would have driven him to break his vow...yet she had still utilized her power to repair the damage done to him by the humans. The things that the Reaper had experienced, the perspectives that he had held throughout his existence- none of it enabled him to name or understand the nature of the woman’s choice.

As soon as the last of his wounds had sealed itself and he felt fully revived, the Reaper momentarily tensed, then propelled himself forwards as quickly as he could, darting above and past the woman’s head with great speed and flying down the nearest hallway, an unhinged look in his eyes. So anxious was he to get away that the woman’s parting words went unheard.

【 Let’s continue it! ♡ ; @velvetempress 】

F a s t , nervous steps accompanied the petite high schooler as she attempted to reach the Iwatodai dormitory as soon as she could. She was well aware that the night time was dangerous and deadly, and yet, there she was: walking by herself in the darkest hour of the day, when inhuman creatures left their obscure hideouts in order to prey on the weak and defenseless beings who were foolish enough to challenge the night and its inhabitants. In all honesty, she wasn’t that brave nor was her intention to meet anyone who could not be described with the adjective ‘human’: unfortunately, she had fallen asleep at the Cafe, thus spending all the afternoon snoring and dreaming of charming princes until a gentle waitress finally woke her up and pretty much kicked her out of the local. Was she afraid? No, not at all - She didn’t believe in spirits or demons, yet, she didn’t feel safe either.

A loud, frightened squeak of panic slithered in-between roseate lips once something touched her shoulder, freezing the crimson liquid inside of her veins until Minako finally turned around, fixating her vermilion optics upon a young looking woman who seemed to be quite concerned and dazzled. What was happening? Frowning at the other’s words, she wasn’t sure on what was the best thing to do: she felt the need to help this unknown woman but at the same time, she couldn’t help but wonder if following her was actually something clever to do. Oh well, someone needed her help and she wasn’t going to back off!

          ❝ A-Ah, please, calm down! Take deep breathes and explain me what happened!              Where have you seen this person? Were they hurt? Shall we call the police?              Just bring me there! I’ll see if I can do something! ❞

trust me, the problem goes both ways~ I want to interact with everyone but coming up with situations where they would meet is so haaard

// cricket noises