The Fifteen Strangers Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
strangerpeople) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
15strangers2020-02-20 06:27 pm
strangerpeople) wrote in 15strangers2020-02-20 06:27 pm
Entry tags:
T̵H̵̛̕E̵̴ ͘҉͟T͠HÍ̛RD ̨͢I̛͞N̵͏V̡EŚ̡T҉̶̕I͟͞ĢA̵͞T̸I͟ÒN̶
[Good morning again. It's Friday, and you know what that means.
Maybe people should start looking to see if anyone's taken Kyuubey at face value.]
no subject
She was willing to die...if it meant seeing him live...and she knew this would happen...
He bites his lip to keep from saying anything. He doesn't what to say, to make this better.]
no subject
But she knew enough to leave him a message. He'll keep fighting. She told her killer to do it properly, to get away with it, but he won't allow that......or at least, right now he doesn't want to allow that.
At least it was quick.]
....Ready for round two?
no subject
Yeah. Let's get it over with.
[Higgledy Hurder, Show Them Murder 2: Electric Boogaloo]
no subject
Castlevania: Portrait of Ruin spoilers & canon-typical violence
He is going to die here. The Alucard Spear is no weapon for a man who cannot even stand up any longer, and in any case it lies outside his reach. The vampire he'd hoped to dispose of has fallen back again, now that he can't move. It makes no sense.
Precious little about this does make sense. That the castle of legends should return is reasonable, this war has been a bloody sacrifice even greater than the one "Countess Bartley" pulled shadowed strings to spark when he was young, but that its master is a mad artist, a man who he might well have known in Paris in years gone - that is unprecedented. It is no possessed hunter that holds the reins of Dracula's Castle, it is a creature that was once a man who loved the arts and his family, someone who might well have called Eric Lecarde his friend in a different world. Instead, though, he is dying, and Brauner has apparently opted to let him set his own pace for it.
It hurts to breathe - broken ribs will do that. He can almost hear Johnny's voice saying it, laconic as his father had been yet warm as the Texan sunshine he seemed to carry with him everywhere. If the life he's led has been redemption enough for all his sins, he will be seeing his dearest friend again soon. It is the waiting that hurts, he tells himself, the waiting, not the myriad ways his body has been broken. He can't even feel his legs, now.
There is a sound - someone has come into the painting.
No, two someones -
Two familiar someones -
His heart feels as though it rips itself to shreds at Loretta's cry of "Papa!" Stella only makes a little horrified sound, and then she's running to his side.
"S-stay back!" he stammers, desperately struggling to push himself up from the floor. He has to warn them, has to send them away from here, quickly, quickly -
"But Papa, you're hurt so badly!"
His beautiful girls, the joy of his life… they shouldn't be here. He has no idea where the vampire is, it could return at any moment. The sorrow he feels now hurts more than any of his injuries, even outstrips the agony of forcing himself as close to upright as his broken body can manage. He can barely draw breath enough to speak, cannot make his thoughts cohere and leave as words - but he has to warn them, has to send them away - he manages to spit out the vampire's name, and that barely. "Brauner!"
There is motion, behind Stella. She has not even time to draw her sword; he is broken and bleeding, for all that she is scarcely a meter from his hands he can not protect his bright star. One more failure. Then she, too, is bleeding on the floor, trembling and then still, too still even as he can hear her gasping desperately for breath -
Loretta doesn't scream. She collapses like a puppet with strings cut, and then the beast is upon her, too. One clawed hand raises her up as though she weighs nothing at all, and then - when Brauner's teeth meet her flesh, she is trying, too late, to form some spell. His brilliant little witch looks to him, and with their eyes locked he can only watch as she slips away.
"Stop it! Stop it, PLEASE!!" He knows his words are useless, knows there is no bargaining with monsters but he is helpless, he has no options but to scream, to reach out as though it would do any good.
Everyone I have ever loved has died before me -
And the vision ends, throwing Arthur and King back to the present.]
no subject
He has to take some deep breathes to stabilize himself. He's close to falling, but he can't stop. He doesn't know who they were, but that wasn't what happened last night, that much he's sure of.]
I...let's get Jonathan now?
[He's whispering. He's not sure if he can speak without something going wrong, and they need to get that now, not focus on other things.]
no subject
Yeah... You okay? You don't have to keep going.
no subject
[It comes a little too quickly, and he rubs at his mouth to get rid of the blood. It might be a problem later, but that's when they can deal with it; later.]
I'll ask later about that.
Now...now Jonathan?
no subject
[Then yeah. Now Jonathan.]
no subject
The time's up; the him beside her vanishes. He hopes he didn't drop her body but he can't be completely sure. There are tears blurring his vision, and he doesn't bother wiping them from his eyes. He doesn't bother to touch his face at all, never mind that he's sobbing raggedly like he hasn't in years.
"Where are you, you son of a bitch?!"
Never mind that his face is a mess, Vita is dead, again, and he could have stopped it, again, and he didn't, yet again, because he wasn't there.
He can't see very well, but he can lash out with the whip, blindly. Maybe it'll catch something. Tick, crack, tick, crack - does it count as being in IT's rhythm if he's on the offbeat? He can hear the footsteps retreating, can see a figure - but not clearly, not with his vision blurred, not with wrenching, heaving, grief-stricken sobs shaking his whole frame, almost knocking him off his feet even as his blindly runs after Vita's killer.
She's dead and it's his fault, again again again she's dead she's dead she's dead -
"Hold still, you bastard!"
His vision is blurry, but he can focus well enough to aim -
- he can strike there -
- he rubs a hand across his eyes, skidding to a halt, he needs to be able to see -
- and, abruptly, Arthur and King are right back where they started.]
no subject
You think that's enough?
[He's asking Arthur, holding his paws up to his face, ready to take the glasses off if he needs to. There's not much else to see, is there?]
no subject
[So much more detail, than he got from the others. It's a double-edged sword. It's a worse experience, but more useful. Well....good to know his power isn't weakening.
He'll wait for King to put him down before he changes back.]
no subject
[He takes off the glasses and, glancing around to make sure the goose is gone, puts him down when he sees it's not there.]
Think you'll be okay?
no subject
Yeah...that was nowhere close to the worst I've had. I just need a few minutes.
CW: Emeto
[And he's running out of the room. Arthur, being the one facing him, was likely able to see the expression on his face, the slight green hue that appeared on his face, and if he was paying enough attention, that he's running to the nearest bathroom with a toilet.
He was here too long.]