antreegonist | [a heart.]

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Entry tags:

hearts,
ic

[a heart.]

There's a moment of nothing but light and sensation. Someone's looking you over and the scrutiny prickles and burns – it's nearly a physical pain, like fine little hooks digging past your skin, into the very meat of you. I know who you are, it says, and I know what you are, and that you don't have any business here --

“But you do,” says Mithos behind you. He's a tired, steady voice in your ear, a light hand on your shoulder. “I don't know what Dream's thinking, but everyone is welcome here in my heart; just keep in mind it's a real mess right now.”

Your vision clears.

((assume your characters wandered in here through a dream. also join #ihateyouihateyouiwanttocuddle on irc if you can!))

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No, the rest are just corpses.

[ looking around, spinning in a circle ]

Where are you?

[shakes his head] I'm not sure. But it sounds like something went wrong. If there's anything I can do...

[well fine then. mouthing a little prayer briefly, and heading for the trees instead]

--Mithos was charging you here; he completes a lunge, sword aimed to run you through.

But he goes . . . right through you.

You can do that! You might have to parry a couple more slashes -- you're both Tales of speed stats -- but you reach the box.

[oh god that was, mildly terrifying. Just... kind of falls back...]

M-Mithos...

I--... I really am sorry...

It's just a flash. The lid sets with a click; this Mithos is suddenly insubstantial.

"No -- no!"

"Humans who hate even themselves . . . how pathetic."

He's growing more and more insubstantial.

"It's none of your business leave it alone!"

He lunges at you sword-first.

*blinks a bit*

...you're the part of him that's mad, right? The part that's stuck in what just happened?

"There's nothing anyone can do!"

He sounds very strained, very tired.

"I'm at the end of the road . . ."

Ah… I'm sorry. It's not very constructive.

[WHUP flame on and jumping backwards, looking alarmed]

— I won't- I won't touch it if you don't want me to. Do you want to talk instead—?

[s-scree, parries backwards, watching for the box and reaching to grab it and turn it up as soon as he's close enough]

What happened?

I'm coming. But...these people. Did you really hurt them?

"What did you do!? Why did you do that!? I hate you! I hate you!"

[kkkkkind of shrugging a little, his voice is still pretty hoarse and raspy]

Not my idea.

There's a flash of pure unadulterated rage when you touch the box. You want to destroy it -- you want to destroy everything --

"What did you do to me?!"

"What does that even mean . . ."

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