Entry tags:
Angel | Heart Game (part 3)
It’s strange, isn’t it? You have fallen asleep, and yet your consciousness is awake. You’re simply floating, waiting to remember what it’s like to exist. However, as you wait, a growing fear clutches at your chest. What if you don’t remember? What if you will always be empty? What if you never find what it is that you are looking for? What if you die? W̛̮̩̰̫̝̫̱h̰a̪̦͖t̲̘̘̺̀ ͉̭̬͎̪̹͘i̺͍̭͙̹̪f̱̥̻͠ ͝t̼̘̬h̶̫̰̮̦͓̖̣e̳̖͔̜̮͢y͇̻͡ ̙̹͎̗͉͍̬d҉͓̮͓͉i̢e?̺̥͎̖̬̹͞ ͇̻W̺̠̫̤̖͈͉h͇͖̣ͅa̮͍t̛ ̛̙̰̻i͚̖f̡͓ y̴͍̥o̳̜͔͈u̴̥̻ w̰͍͕̥͢i̶̻̫l̬̥̖l͔͙ ̱̻͘ne͕̹͕͕̞̹v͢e̻̪̪͎͈͚͕ṛ̛ ̧̫̹b̘e̖̖̰̣ͅc̢͍om̨͍̘̻̫e̺̘͎͓̮ ̟͉͞w͏̟̖̠̩̜̟h̴̼͈̭̪o̸̹̬̣̳͉̠ ̼̠̯̖̫̜́t̫̘͠h͇̙ͅe̱͡y̭̥̱ͅ ͕̼̭̥̟͎w̜̖̞̲ͅḁ̩͙͚̤̟n̲̳̠̠t̛̲͔̲̜͔ ̟͍̼͖̼ͅy͎͇̘̲o̹̞̜u̻̫ ͙͓͓̲͈ͅț̷͔͎̩o̸̝̝̙͉ ̜͇͓̗̣̦͠b̰̠͡ḛ̛?̢̻̗̹̬͖͇̮ ̖̺̦̻͕̬͔W̨̺̝̰̝̲h͈̥̖̦͖a̴͓̼t ̺̤̪̻͔̯͞w̵i̮͕͜l̤̕l̞ ͞yo̴̯̝͔̜̝͍u̹͕̭̗͚ͅ ̸̟d̲̹̣͇͍̞o̶̼͍̠̦̩?̀Wh̼o ̮̼̱a̟̼r̫͎̘e͟ ͓̪̠͟y̷̫̲̖̱͕̤o̤̪̲̤̪̟͘u͏͈̞?̛͔͚͖̟͉ ̰͓͔W̜̯̗̻̼̥̦h̳̲a͏̘̗̜t̵̬̖̥̠̺͕̹ ̼̰̞͇̯͙̹c̛̝̬̙̱͖ͅa̩͟n͈͙ ̺y̞̰̳̹͈̙ͅo̭͈̭̥̱̱͜u̘̲̦͢ ̫̜ḍ̺͉̳̠̻̜͢o̢̦?̻̞̗̰̩͍͜ ̧͔͈͈͈̲̰͕̣̙͇
Ẁ͖̰͚̙̣̯͉̙̕h̺̻͕͕͈̥͖͜ͅa̟̮͕̬͞t̙̮͔̙̙̞̯ ̶̧̧͇̫̫͈͉̤i̯̫̕f̮̥̲͇ ̛̯͈̞̦̀͝y̫̩͉͈͙̻o͕͎͎̱̤̖ͅͅu̶̞͓̪͔͉̕͜ ̵̖͖͙̣̭̳f̗̪̜͎͎͇̩̟͜ͅa̲͔̘̮í̛̪͈͇̻͍̹̯̭l̗̖̝̪͞?̶̥͚͙̭̫̩̙͙̱͟ Ẁ͖̰͚̙̣̯͉̙̕h̺̻͕͕͈̥͖͜ͅa̟̮͕̬͞t̙̮͔̙̙̞̯ ̶̧̧͇̫̫͈͉̤i̯̫̕f̮̥̲͇ ̛̯͈̞̦̀͝y̫̩͉͈͙̻o͕͎͎̱̤̖ͅͅu̶̞͓̪͔͉̕͜ ̵̖͖͙̣̭̳f̗̪̜͎͎͇̩̟͜ͅa̲͔̘̮í̛̪͈͇̻͍̹̯̭l̗̖̝̪͞?̶̥͚͙̭̫̩̙͙̱͟ Ẁ͖̰͚̙̣̯͉̙̕h̺̻͕͕͈̥͖͜ͅa̟̮͕̬͞t̙̮͔̙̙̞̯ ̶̧̧͇̫̫͈͉̤i̯̫̕f̮̥̲͇ ̛̯͈̞̦̀͝y̫̩͉͈͙̻o͕͎͎̱̤̖ͅͅu̶̞͓̪͔͉̕͜ ̵̖͖͙̣̭̳f̗̪̜͎͎͇̩̟͜ͅa̲͔̘̮í̛̪͈͇̻͍̹̯̭l̗̖̝̪͞?̶̥͚͙̭̫̩̙͙̱͟
W̷̴̶̖͔͈̝̦̺̻̥̼̮̝̺̝̥͖̣͔̼͜͡h̖͉̘͉͉̖̟͚̜̬̫͙̼͖͉̯̤̦͕͠a̺͎̺̘͟͡t̶̸̺͙̰͙̻̗͔̹͍̯͚͠ͅ ̡͓͔̮̘͈̝̻͈̳͍͉̹̗͘͟͠í̬̟͎̻̬͓̦̪̘͟͜f̶̴̯͇̳͉̣͓͉͇̲̠͉̠͚̞͝ ̡͎͎̤͓͔͚̥̕͞y̴̵̢̧̨̱̭̯̤̘̞̩̻̲͙͔͞█̵̨̛̦͉̺̝͔͇͢͠ ̰͓̳͝͡█̴͉͈̝̲̝͕͖͙͔͙̰́́ͅ ̡̖̙̘̪̗̞̪͘͞█̴̶̵̛̩͕͚̣̥̺͡ ̶̢̢̛͙̟̮̯̥̹͎̼͔̻ͅ█̴̧̧͙͎̖̘̥̠̪͉̫͍̯̻̥̟͔̥͇̙ ̛̯͓̣͎̤̟̟̀█̴̵̧̣̮͓̻͍͔̱̘̣̜̞͙̰̟̬̠̩̀͠ͅ ̴̵̨͉̻͇̮̣̼͜͟█̵͉͔̝̺̗͔̯͓̪́ ̴̨͇̱̹̳͍͙̝͟█̢̙͕̞̭͇̣̼͔͟ ̡͕̼͙͙̗̥̱̭̪͙̥̹̮̱̬̥̪̗̹█̴̶̴̫̱̞͟ͅ ̷̧̡̻̭͉͖̻̲̰̦̮͓̜̹̩͎█̶̡̢̗͖͎̘̙͍̜͖̩͉̥̩̞̭̀͜ ̷̴̶̡̛̘̲̤͈̦̣̹̻█̸́͜҉̘̫̝͈̻̳͈̙̪͚̬̥̗̥̺̼̠ ̴̛͇͙̥̫̪̘̩̫͉̙́͜͠█̷̴̛̥̫̳̣͈̭͈̗̗̪̯̬̪̣̻̮̗͘͞ͅ ͏̷̜͇͉͕̯̫͎█͢͏̻͍̦̙̭̭̣̥͓͔
̴̵̨͉̻͇̮̣̼͜͟█̵͉͔̝̺̗͔̯͓̪́ ̴̨͇̱̹̳͍͙̝͟█̢̙͕̞̭͇̣̼͔͟ ̡͕̼͙͙̗̥̱̭̪͙̥̹̮̱̬̥̪̗̹█̴̶̴̫̱̞͟ͅ ̷̧̡̻̭͉͖̻̲̰̦̮͓̜̹̩͎█̶̡̢̗͖͎̘̙͍̜͖̩͉̥̩̞̭̀͜ ̷̴̶̡̛̘̲̤͈̦̣̹̻█̸́͜҉̘̫̝͈̻̳͈̙̪͚̬̥̗̥̺̼̠ ̴̛͇͙̥̫̪̘̩̫͉̙́͜͠█̷̴̛̥̫̳̣͈̭͈̗̗̪̯̬̪̣̻̮̗͘͞ͅ ͏̷̜͇͉͕̯̫͎█͢͏̻͍̦̙̭̭̣̥͓͔
█̴̶̴̫̱̞͟ͅ ̷̧̡̻̭͉͖̻̲̰̦̮͓̜̹̩͎█̶̡̢̗͖͎̘̙͍̜͖̩͉̥̩̞̭̀͜ ̷̴̶̡̛̘̲̤͈̦̣̹̻█̸́͜҉̘̫̝͈̻̳͈̙̪͚̬̥̗̥̺̼̠
█̶̡̢̗͖͎̘̙͍̜͖̩͉̥̩̞̭̀͜
. . . ♫ . . .
You aren’t sure, but you swear that you just heard someone singing . . . the words are incomprehensible, but it makes you feel something familiar . . . a feeling that makes you feel like you’ll find what you’re looking for . . . and that everything will be alright in the end . . .
What is that feeling?
. . .
HUUUH?!
You don’t know?? Wowee . . . well, don’t worry! Since we're friends, I’ll tell you!
It’s hope, of course! !
The Game Tower
When the elevator doors open, blood pools to your feet, oh boy. It's a very terrifying sight to see.
You can see tables filled with food and fun games, you can even find origami cranes even! There's a stage where people can perform and just all sorts of decorations that seem to be similar to all of the cute, fun things that happen in Imeeji.
But there are body parts lying about, a medical table that has straps all over it, a giant computer, a collar, flowers, a judges podium, a button that you can press. It's all covered in blood though, just like the rest of the room.
There's peppy music playing in the background, wow!]
1/2
[Give him a second, okay]
Re: The Game Tower
Calm. Breathe. Think.
There are two things he doesn't recognize - the table. And the button.
. . .
Goes over to examine the table]
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Oh - this isn't quite a pit, is it? It's soft, like a bed - or maybe it really is. You can't get comfortable, though; try to move and you'll find that you're strapped down, face first with your arms forced to your sides. No matter how much you struggle, you can't get out.
A bright light shines above you, abruptly; now you can see that you're in some sort of hospital room, with a tray containing surgical tools sitting close by. Of particular note is a syringe sitting on the table with needle exposed and the syringe itself filled to the brim with a dark, murky substance. That looks ominous.
If you try to struggle more, several metal hands come down to press against your shoulder blades to keep you down, and you can hear mechanical whirring as a robotic limb climbs down from above you to pick up the syringe. The hand disappears, and you can feel your lower back being bared, just above your hips; more hands move to press against your sides and legs - as if to keep you in place.
There's a pause.
Then, you feel it: the needle presses directly into your spine and it is painful enough, tapping directly into your nerves, but - then you can feel the fluid pushing in, working up throughout your nervous system in the form of intolerable burning. It's like lava's just been injected into your body, and it spreads beyond just your nervous system; when it touches your nerves, you can feel the burn, but when it reaches your heart, it feels like ice cold chill, like your body's dropping several degrees in temperature. Your chest constricts, the wind knocked out of you just from this experience, and to compensate for that, you try to breathe - only to choke and cough. The coming coughing fit is beyond what you'd expect, but the more you cough, the worse your lungs feel, and so - you cough more, perhaps hoping to get whatever it is inside of you out (or perhaps not - either way, this is an automatic reaction). The burningfreezing pain doesn't leave, though, and it only feels like your lungs are more constricted - the hands push you down more onto the bed, as if this constituted a struggle or maybe this was their genuine attempt to stop what probably looks like a seizure. The rest of your insides feel that way too, flopping every which way (it feels like) and shrinking and growing and clenching and unclenching as they please, until it feels like your insides are made of soup, or maybe loose parts to a machine clattering around inside the hardware. All the while, the mechanical hands keep you pinned and unable to move.
Perhaps out of sheer exhaustion, you finally black out.
Oh, the vision fades. You're fine though. The worst part is that even with all of those hands, being alone is the worst part of all.]
Re: The Game Tower
That was the tournament game, right?
The second punishment.
Angel just brushed that off. And Shogun. He had the first punishment. And Duality.
. . .
Why are all of you LIKE THIS?!]
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Pushing himself up to his feet and going to fucking slam the button down.
Full speed ahead on this fucking trauma train]
Re: The Game Tower
Instead, the walls suddenly light up like large giant tv screens.
And you can watch the entire scene of the House murders for yourself.]
1/2
Now Intensity just looks physically ill.
Thank god he didn't eat that plastic fruit because he would have just lost his lunch right about now]
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The body parts are all picked up and place in a box with the label "Day 8: Mukuro's Game - Mah Jongg".
The flowers are tied up with red ribbon and placed in a different box. "Day 16: Mukuro's Game - Prisoner's Dilemma".
The button gets a label on it's stand. "Day 25: Exael's Game - House of Betrayal and Mirth".
The medical table just gets the following label: "Day 60: Mukuro's Game - Tournament".
The computer gets stacked next to the podium and they both gets the label "Day 68: Bad End Dead End's Game - The Trial".
The collar gets put in a box. "Day 86: Exael's Game - Popularity Contest".
And then to the best of his ability, Intensity arranges the boxes and items neatly against the wall in chronological order, using strips of fabric to soak up and get rid of as much blood as he can.]
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. . .
He takes one last trek to the "nice" side of the room and folds one paper crane - this in Angel's unit color. He sets that on the podium with the button.]
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