Riful's Heart.

[dramatispersonae]

[everything goes away.]

[sight, sound, taste, touch, smell - you lose yourself to the nothing that waits through the doorway. do you have a body? a mind? what is such a thing? for a dizzying moment, you might not even be sure you have a "you" to identify these concepts with.]

[then, wrenching and violent, the confusion of the senses pummels itself back inside you like seasoning pounded into raw meat, and you're left, painfully sensate, on an open plain.]

Comments

[madasahero]

[Approaching her and taking a look at what she is doing.]

[amivoringyou]

[there is nothing for her hand to be pointing to. it's just a statue, caught in the act.]

[madasahero]

[Touching the statue's cheek]

[amivoringyou]

[it's warm to the touch.]

[madasahero]

[Pressing his fingertips slightly to it. Is it still stone?]

[amivoringyou]

[your fingertips touch only rock.]

[madasahero]

[Alright, patting her head gently and checking if he can enter the tower]

[amivoringyou]

[the doors open easily, and you step into the library ... the first thing you notice are the bloodstains, most likely, because they're everywhere.]

[the next thing you may notice is that all the books have been tossed off the shelves, and some have been ripped to shreds as well. their spines are blank, and of the ones that have fallen open, their pages are blank too.]

[the smell of rotten food (rotten flesh ...?) drifts out from under the doorway leading to the rest of the tower.]

[madasahero]

Well, I think we should start our classes as soon as possible, don't you think?

[Going to the doorway and opening it very carefully if possible]

[amivoringyou]

[it opens easily at your touch, into the Onyx sitting room. the bloodstains continue apace; there doesn't seem to be any logic to them.]

[you'll notice something ... different about this sitting room from how it should be: where the normal Onyx spiral staircase stops at ground level, this one continues down, and down ...]

[the smell of rottenness drifts from the kitchen ... and from above.]

[madasahero]

[:(

He is ignoring the secret lower level for the time being and taking the stairs towards his room.]

[amivoringyou]

[the bloodstains continue along the stairs ... on the way, you pass Chariot's room. the door is ajar.]

[madasahero]

[Pushing it slightly open, just enough to look inside]

[amivoringyou]

[Chariot and Yuri can be seen in a naked embrace, artfully (but not tastefully) positioned, split down the middle and their guts entangled in each other.]

[madasahero]

[SIGHS.

Pulling the door back, respectfully, until it's ajar again, and taking the stairs to his room.]

[amivoringyou]

[behind Sion's desk in his room sits someone of uncertain identity, wearing two worlds: hir long hair tied back like Sion's, but with pale skin and hair and slitted silver eyes like a claymore; the exaggerated flamboyance to hir posture of Sion, but the practical armoring of someone else entirely. xe is hard at work recording something in a notebook when you enter, seemingly oblivious to the signs of murder that reach even into this room; xe looks up, and leans back in hir chair.]

... huh. It's you.

[madasahero]

[Approaching]

...And you are?

[amivoringyou]

Sion - [rubs at hir head] ... no, that's not right. But I'm - you're - close enough.

[touches hir head with a palm] This makes my head hurt. I wish I could've killed her when I had the chance.

[madasahero]

[Sion, huh? That makes three of us?]

Well, it's pointless to cry over spilled milk, isn't it. Can you explain what is going on here?

[vague gesture towards the bloodstains]

[amivoringyou]

[resting hir cheek on one palm]

Isn't it obvious? She's trapped and doesn't want to admit it.

[madasahero]

[Nods]

I was aware of the trapped part, but not so much that she didn't wish to admit it. May I take a look at what you are writing?

[Approaches a little more, more intrigued than anything.]

[amivoringyou]

[... sighs]

[shows the notebook to him. it's blank]

It's very hard to keep my thoughts organized when I can't read anything I write.

[madasahero]

I can both read and write, though. Would you like me to give it a try? I can take notes of everything you say. Or if that's not possible, memorize it.

[extends his hand out, palm up]

[amivoringyou]

[... considers, briefly, perhaps unexpectedly, suspicious ...]

[then hands the notebook over.]

You'll need something. To fill up the pen with.

[madasahero]

[I'm looking for INK, of course. There should be some on the desk.]