dramatispersonae

CORAL

You're standing together on what seems to be the main street of a small village, paved with cobblestones, with low buildings standing silent on either side. If you look in any of them, you'll find them dark and empty.

In contrast to the Ring, it's rather chilly. The sky is slate-grey, and it seems like there's snow falling, blanketing you and the village in pure white. On closer inspection, the snow turns out to be ash – but the bleaching is literal. Even when you brush it off, your skin, your hair, your clothes, and your keys remain ash-coloured.

A single, feeble light flickers further down the street.

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[Shrugging, smiling.]

I think it'd be safest.

But there are still more doors. They might be worse than this one.

It's possible. But is there anyone else who can handle the anger well? I can stay clear-headed, and I'd rather you and Nightingale be able to focus if there's worse ahead.

Maybe . . .

I mean, Nightingale's anger can't be that bad . . .

[jiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii]

....Maybe not. But I'd rather not ask her to. And I know mine won't be much of a distraction.

. . . who are you going to get mad at though?

Do we pick...?

I guess so . . .

...Do you mind if it's you?

Well, it can't be Spitfire since it isn't his team and definitely not Nightingale...

[MY LAST SUPPORT SYSTEM]

[I'm sorry bro.]

... [Hair ruffle and a big hug.] I love you okay. Sorry.

[Going to go put his hand in the box and wow that is. Fire. Not too different than taking Firebird's hand at least.]

You are now totally angry with someone of your choice to the point of wanting to attack them.

The box and rod shatter into powder after twenty seconds. A single match appears on the floor, with a paper tag attached. STRIKE ME, it says.

When you do, the wispy shape of a small, bedraggled, shivering girl appears. She has no shoes, and carries a basket of matches on her arm. It's two-thirds full. She's all made of orange flame, as chilly as the surrounding air at first, then growing warmer. Her trembling ceases.

She steps towards the back wall -- which crumbles, revealing a path deeper into the village – and walks outside, beckoning you to follow.

[Hissing, backing away a step, actual emotions on his face, goodness. That can't be good. Well sort of emotions. Kind of a cold, blank fury.]

[I haven't seen you make a face that wasn't smiley in so long]

[this is weird]

[I am making that face at you. You know. Just saying this is some really deep hate.]

[At least even with game emotions I am pretty fucking cold and collected.]

Shall we move on?

[As he. Stares at Hikaru. Like he wants to rearrange his face. Across the room.]