| Full Empty for 200 Flat; [Medved, Takeshi, Takeru, Closed] | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 19 2014, 07:15 AM (87 Views) | |
| Sumitomo | Jan 19 2014, 07:15 AM Post #1 |
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Idi ko mne. Medved blinked. His mother tongue. His mind translated it automatically. Was it just a dream? Come to me. Apparently not. He rose from his bed, really more of a cot, and rubbed his eyes. He looked out his only window, rubbing the stubble on his face, wondering where the voice had come from. No, not the window. The voice had come from... His hand froze in mid-rub. He stopped blinking. Thevoice had come from inside his own head. He giggled, an insane sounding titter. It had finally happened. He'd gone insane. The shit and filth that had attached to his soul had finally contaminated his being, and overcame him. He was now more shit that man. A golden butterfly flit past his window, and all thought ceased. He dragged on his clothes, quickly, slipped his knuckles into his pocket, took little else. The butterfly called him with a voice that wasn't, urged him to come, to follow, with whispers that didn't exist. Idi ko mne. Come to me. ____________________________________________________ An idyllic picnic. Medved sits on a blanket with his wife, eating a meal she'd prepared in their dacha, their vacation home. His daughter flew a kite near the lake, laughing. Young, carefree. He took another sandwich from the basket, biting into it with relish. His wife laughed, a soft, feminine noise. "Your favorite, yes?" "Yes sweetheart. Good." He said it through cheekfulls of sandwich, grinning a grin obstructed by masticated meat and bread. He looked over at her, and she met his gaze, and she smiled. His daughter laughed in the distance - she'd finally found out the trick to flying a kite, and it soared triumphantly through the air. A flicker, a warp in reality. Medved blinked. The idyllic field had changed. Where there was a blue sky, there was nothing but overcast, grey. Shelled out buildings replaced the mountains in the distance. A chatter, off to his right, somewhere. The inexperienced ear may think it was fireworks, but he knew better. AK's. 47's and a few 74's, chattering, hammering away. His wife was still there but she was screaming, and pointing. Chechen resistance fighters had begun to advance on them. One of them clubbed his daughter with the butt of his gun, then dashed her brains onto the pavement. Her said corpse lay in the mud (where did the grass go) her skull cracked open, drooling gray glop, her eyes rolled into the back of her head. He recoiled. Why, why was this happening? His wife screamed. He looked over. Another partisan had bayonetted her through her stomach, and was twisting the knife, twisting screams out of her as the rusty blade worked and squeezed more bright red jets of blood from her abdomen. Her limbs flailed as her scream grew higher and higher in pitch. The sound a mortally wounded woman makes when she's dying and knows she can't stop it, a death wail. Her murderer's face was locked in a rictus grin of glee, manic, insane. Medved was on his feet in seconds. He charged the man, his brass knuckles on, seeing nothing but berserk fury. He swung, aiming for the man's jaw - - and sailed right through him, immaterial. _____________________________________________________ His eyes snapped open. That dream again? He knew he'd had it again. He'd broken out into a sweat. He knew he hadn't gone to bed with his knuckles on, but, yet, there they were, on his fist. That same dream. It just... it seemed to roll up all the parts of his life he wanted to forget and shove deep down, made him confront all of what he didn't want to see, all at once, a feast, a banquet, of personal horrors. He ran his hand down his face. Froze. Just where in the hell was he? He looked around in mute horror. Hallway. Flickering light, dangling from chain. Corpse. It looked right at him with one eye. It had only had one eye, because the other half of his head had been bitten off or cut away. The sight was disgusting, horrifying, but... He'd seen so many like it. He pushed it from his mind, attempted to forget. Stash that folder somewhere in his mental library, but... His mind ran into another presence, in his own head. Immutable. Implacable. Round and hard. In his mind's eye, he pictured a burnished copper ball. An object of great intelligence and power. A Wish Granter. The name came to him with no provocation - as if the ball had put it there. It didn't speak, but apparently, it could suggest - suggest directly, it seemed. "Wish... Granter?" Medved questioned aloud. "Are you... part of me?" The ball seemed to suggest that yes, it was. "Am I dreaming?" No. That time it was clearly a no. He ran his hand over his face a second time, massaging his temples. Jesus christ. He really was going insane now. Giant burnished copper balls in his head not-talking to him. Fucking hell. His priorities were clear, now. Every other thought in his head, even this recent weirdness could take a backseat. He knew he was somewhere he shouldn't be. That much was obvious. His goal now was to get out. Get out, then he could make sense of it. He rose, uneasily, to his feet. His mind was awash with other presences now. He felt as if it were a radar display, constantly emitting a signal and receiving. With a little effort, he could... almost bounce it off walls, map out where he was standing. It was... strange, but not unnatural, like when you first figure out how to whistle. He stretched his new power, allowing his mental signal to stretch further. It bounced off of something strange - well, all of it was strange. He'd established what wall, what inanimate object felt like, but what he just sensed... Warmth. Intelligence. Something living. Something else alive was down here. He couldn't see them, but he knew. Strange, he thought. Was that you Wish Granter? That time... a yes. The hallways had only two entrances, one by the corpse, one at the end. He bounced his thought-radar off the door. Locked. They would have to be coming from the corpse end. He pressed himself flat against the wall, opposite in the direction the presences came from. With luck, they'd walk past. With less luck, he could get the drop on them. He slipped his knuckles onto his hand, grimacing, the old ways, the old killing ways, coming back to his body. He'd left that life, left it far behind. He was sure of it. |
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| Natscookie | Jan 19 2014, 03:22 PM Post #2 |
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Shitpost Senpai
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Why was it that Takeshi felt at peace? His father was long gone, his mother kicked him out of his own home, his wife thought he was cheating, and now he lived above a bar with a guy that was probably a gang member. Yet, why was Takeshi entirely at peace? Shameful. Zagreus regularly threw comments regarding the cop's conduct, claiming he was putting his father's name to shame. However, ever since Takeshi awakened and got to go to the Ruins regularly, stress had left his body mostly. He got to vent by pummeling shadows to submission, and let his instincts take over completely for once. And so, he decided to go that day again. It was his habit not to call any of his co-workers to go to the place; from what he was told, there were plenty who had access to a Persona. He'd still rather go alone, due to wanting to keep a composed facade without flaws. After packing his knives discreetly without the thug's mother realizing it back at home, he departed to the wicked place. At the entrance, he ran into a kid that seemed to still be in high school. That irked him somewhat. According to Bedlam, Philemon had quite the bias towards teenagers, placing them in unnecessary danger. Chances were people his age were not capable of handling a life or death battle by themselves at all, nor recognized the full scope of the situation. Thus, Takeshi brought the kid along in his trip, after both introduced themselves. Takeru Yamamoto, he said. The cop was quick to memorize it. "What are your abilities, so we can better coordinate as a team?" The adult asked as they ventured into the labyrinth that he now knew so well, unaware of another person present. His right hand seemed to be tightly gripping a combat knife as he kept his attention on the path they took. Despite his normal MO, he had the feeling that he should have called someone, anyone. Something bad was about to happen, he could feel it in his bones. |
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| Exodin | Jan 20 2014, 08:14 AM Post #3 |
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MAHHA
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Well at least he'd found an adult to go with right? Takeru had finally decided to give in to Yamato's relentless screaming in his head to go back to the ruins and actually kill more shadows. He'd even thought about going in alone! Logic had won out over his persona telling him what to do though. So he'd waited at the entrance for someone to show up. Just so happened that it was this...Takeshi Nakamura dude. He'd even been a cop, so that was something right? "Hama, Mudo and....whatever the hell Rakukaja is. What about you?" It was a good thing Takeru had a knife of his own this time. Going in without some sort of physical weapon seemed like literally the dumbest thing anyone could do... "Holy fuck!" That was a dead body. That was a dead body. It was Takeru's first time actually seeing something like this. He nearly felt like he was going to be sick. |
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| Sumitomo | Jan 22 2014, 04:25 PM Post #4 |
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Two people. Human people, one old, one much younger. Like actual radar, Medved guessed they'd been standing too close together for him to make them out individually with his power. Who were they? Where was he? Two questions that couldn't be easily answered from his vulnerable position. Simple logic, (Spetsnaz logic, he chided himself) stated these two were hostiles. You wake up in an unfamiliar, clearly dangerous place, anyone there is clearly out to get you until proven other wise. The solutions to this were simple - avoid, or kill. Except... Avoidance was impossible, unless they both lost interest and moved on. Killing them? He shook his head. Maybe in his prime he could take on two people and kill them essentially bare-handed. He'd stayed fit, thanks to his work, but he's beaten so many of his swords into plowshares he just didn't think he could do it. Well, did the old rules really apply here? Did the old rules apply when your mind suddenly had more than one occupant? He thought back to when he detected them. He could clearly remember... Yes, he could clearly remember detecting an emotional state. They were cautious. Cautious and on-edge. Didn't rule out they were baddies - maybe they were newbies on patrol for the first time or something. That was one part of his brain. Well, then, by that logic, you're a baddie too. Caution huh? Wouldn't you be cautious if you were exploring something or somewhere unknown and dangerous? That was the smarter part of his brain. He decided to hedge his bets. Approach them, but make sure you stayed near the door, where, if they decided to fight, they could only come at you one at a time. The killer part of his mind didn't like the compromise, but his need for survival was now balanced with a strangeness that had never been there before, a new set of rules. He wasn't a trained killer anymore, and these weren't terrorists. He hoped. To both. He stepped from his hiding place and assumed his best, most intimidating fighting stance. His face was a cold snarl, a predator's look. Combined with the corpse, he knew what their first impression might be, but he needed to look dangerous, look hostile, to see how they would react. If bad, they'd attack. If good, they'd attempt to parley. Not a flawless plan, not even a little. But something was better than nothing. "Hold it there!" Medved spoke, lowly, dangerously, almost a growl. "Who are you two?" He hoped they weren't hostile. |
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| Natscookie | Jan 23 2014, 03:00 AM Post #5 |
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Shitpost Senpai
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"Fire and healing spells. I can't be harmed by the first, either." As the pair crossed paths with the dead body, Takeshi didn't seem much affected - he had seen quite a few with his career of choice. Heck, he was working on a case where the body had been entirely skinned and left hanging at the local park. If he could stomach that, he could stomach this much. "Calm down. This is a common sight in this place." He informed Takeru. Takeshi had ran into a couple body parts here and there before, thus gotten used to it. It was a shame that those crimes of nature would go forever unsolved, and the families would not be put to rest. As Medved came into view, Takeshi's mind went haywire with possibilities. The cop didn't seem much intimidated by the man wanting to hold it under his thumb, but decided against being hostile at all. He stopped walking, and reached for Takeru's shoulder to make him stop also. In any occasion, Takeshi would think the man just killed that person; but, the wounds definitely looked like it was a Shadow's handiwork. Coupled with that, he didn't seem to know where he was at all, and them being fellow Persona users was an easy assumption to make. If he wandered in, he probably would've made his way back out with the first brush of Shadows; that far in, it was nigh impossible to avoid them. His conclusion was that he obviously had to be brought in against his will... By a certain golden butterfly. Right or wrong, that was the strongest possibility. "We're not here to harm you." Takeshi very carefully placed his combat knife in a small sheath hanging from his belt, and slowly raised his hands, as if to display his good intentions. "I'm Takeshi Nakamura, a criminal investigator to the Nagashima Police Department." He seemed like he had quite the experience with interrogation anyway. Instead of info-dumping a man on edge, Takeshi decided to let him ask the questions. |
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| Exodin | Jan 26 2014, 10:18 AM Post #6 |
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MAHHA
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Were the people that came down here even more jaded to crazy stuff like this than him? Wait...Takeshi had been a cop. A cop in Nagashima of all places. Man...he didn't even want to think about the sort of stuff they actually had to see on a regular basis. Much less actually think about what had made the man jaded to corpses. That was one thing Takeru hoped he never got used too. At the sight of a man emerging out of the shadows, Takeru couldn't help but take a step back. Shadows were just sorts of creatures. People, they could be the true danger down here. He didn't have a sheathe for his knife, so instead he made a slow deliberate motion to raise his hands upward. Hopefully this would be taken as a sign of non-hostility. "Look, we can help get you out of here. The exit is back from where we came, so just...follow us alright?" Takeru still made no sudden movements. Who knew what sort of things this stranger was capable of? |
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