Catch-all/open prompts Dec 1-7

[pummelgranite]

A. December 3rd, 12 AM

Advertising her next show under the tagline "Winter is Coming" means that the posters could be her intimate nude image (shoulders up, let's keep it classy), a wreath of barbed holly on her head, and eyes rolled back in orgasmic ecstasy. It was a great pun and her entire PR staff was extremely proud of themselves.

The first night of Advent. The Christmas Season in full swing, the final countdown to midwinter. When better to test out her new psuedo-priesthood of well paid security imPorts? The show was almost-but-not-quite above ground. Which is to say: the venue was legal, but had little else going for it.

However, all in attendance were instructed to steal a candle from another faith of their choice as tribute. Her song is cold and beautiful. It does nothing to warm the heart, but rather somehow steels it against the cold. Those who can really hear her will find their candle burning with a little pink flame, cool to the touch, and reluctant to burn out.

B. A Living case of SADS walks into a cafe

Or perhaps it's a department store. Or over-priced bougie organic horse shit grocery store.

At first it seems like there's something wrong with the PA system. Like there's another song interfering with the regularly scheduled seasonal muzak- some strange, haunting melody. Or maybe the first thing they notice is the shadows growing too wide, and dark, and inviting.

Then comes the emotion. It feels like remembering something unpleasant: guilt and sorrow and worry bubbling back up after one has finally gotten one's mind off of it. It gets heavier, and unrelenting- free floating emotional dysphoria with no seeming cause. The feeling that one can never forgive oneself, without being able to say, exactly, what it is that one has done.

There may be tears. There may be a headache bad enough to knock the legs out from under you. There may be a whole lot of flower hallucinations.

And then into view comes Persephone, and there can be no doubt from whence this feeling came.

Comments

B aka DID YOU SAY FLOWER VISIONS????

[crueltobekind]

[Sudden and unexpected bouts of worry and sorrow are actually not that unusual for Kaoru these days. It's an unfortunate side effect of suddenly being separated from his brother for so long, and it probably isn't helping that he misses the rest of his friends and world too. The piercing headache and encroaching vines of rose and thorns at the edges of his vision, on the other hand, are strange enough to actually be concerning. He grimaces and clutches at the side of his head, just starting to stand up from the booth he'd sat at only minutes before when he notices Persephone stepping into view.

He's not sure what's more unsettling—the bizarro rose visions, or somehow understanding that she's the source of it.]

Uh... Can you...stop doing that?

[pummelgranite]

[ She turns a flat look at whoever this is. ]

Excuse me?

[crueltobekind]

[Some scrawny kid who looks like he stepped out of a classy fashion magazine.]

The...whatever it is you're doing. It's giving me a headache.

[pummelgranite]

You're really going to have to be more specific.

[crueltobekind]

Do you really not know you're doing it?

[He waves a hand at the rose vines that only he can see.]

All this flower stuff. The misery sucks too, but I'm used to that.

For Yusuke: a milder (but sloshed) case of SADS stumbles up to a Crime Boy

[pummelgranite]

[ Alright, so clubbing is a bust: too many people on too many substances too close together to tolerate her leak, even when she's in a good mood. It's not like it was a disaster, or that she struck out, exactly. Just sort of seemed like she was going to end the night with a stranger crying in her bed, and no fucking thank you.

So she cut herself lose. Went to wandering the city streets, see if there was any fun and/or trouble to be had out in the dark. ]

[lempereur]

[ Good thing(?) Yusuke is already filled with worry and guilt before Persephone comes stumbling by. The latest round of Porter nonsense has done a number on him - he's not hurt himself, just painfully sluggish without his enhanced speed - but it seems like everyone around him is. Injuries are reopening, things he caused inadvertently, and wounds he caused himself. The glint of steel and pour of crimson that haunts his dreams is made real again.

He bounces from the thick sweat of hot flashes (death by fire isn't quick enough, is still fresh in his mind, the taste of smoke and the stench of overcooked flesh flooding his senses uninvited) to the all but forgotten sensastion of freezing, chattering teeth and visible breath bringing him back to before this world, before Goemon.

Those were not happy times.

Her presence only amplifies this feeling of discomfort, but in Yusuke's case, that guilt has a very clear cause. It was weighing on him, but now it's clawing, has him huddled up in an anxious ball against a wall by the time he sees her. ]

Persephone.

[pummelgranite]

Rebel Rebel~

[ Persephone looks . . . well she looks drunk. There's a looseness to her posture and softness to her expression that you wouldn't see on her in the day time. She looks him over, takes in his own clearly telegraphed misery.

Ideal company located. ]


Ya look like warm shite. My fault, or you been like this all day?

[lempereur]

[ She does look drunk. Yusuke doesn't party very often, despite his pastimes of criminal activity and dismantling social structures, he's well-trained to behave himself where anyone but his inner circle can see, but tonight, he's feeling some envy over that.

(No, Luci's shows don't count.) ]

You're not even singing.

[ Just leaking out feelings that are supposed to be bottled up, thereby smashing everyone else's bottles. IT'S FINE. ]

A bit of both seems likely.

[pummelgranite]

Right? 's bollocks.

[ She agrees amiably. Obviously her literal leaking of chthonic misery is sub ideal. But many, many many many things in her life are sub ideal. She's sort of rolling with it.

She considers him a moment, then tips her head to the other side and considered him a moment longer. ]

Well, c'mon, we're getting you a drink.

B.

[axeboyfriend]

[ Guilt and sorrow are old friends of Shinjiro's, though the sudden onslaught in the middle of a café is something of a surprise. It burns in the back of his eyes like tears that he refuses to shed, weighing his heart heavier and heavier until it's a physical ache. Dark whispers of suicidal ideations lick through the back of his mind, louder than usual and pulsing with each stab of the headache beginning to throb. There's flowers on the edges of his vision—

Flowers?

He'd been unconsciously rubbing at the side of his head, but he looks up now and sees Persephone nearby. He grimaces— is she causing this? He'd thought only her music could affect him. He smooths out the pained expression on his face and gestures at her. ]

Want some cocoa? The stuff they have here's not bad.

[ And maybe she'll stop leaking pain with the taste on her lips. ]

[pummelgranite]

[ It takes her a moment to even realize he's speaking to her. She turns to look at him- Shinji. Her fan. Had wanted to be her staff. Death and sorrow and divinity echo off him, it's not surprising he follows her.

Little surprising that he's inviting her to have cocoa with him. ]

'scuse me?

[axeboyfriend]

[ It had been Shinjiro's experience that people steeped in guilt and sorrow didn't tend to want to talk about it. Whatever reason she's leaking it towards him— unconsciously, he's thinking— he won't do her the disservice of calling her out on it. Especially since he's little more than a fan. ]

Cocoa. [ He raised his cup. ] My treat.

[pummelgranite]

[ She looks at him a long time, like he just asked her if she'd like to try something exotic and intimidating. Mostly she's trying to work out his motivations. Finally she just shrugs and sits down. ]

Don't treat me.

[axeboyfriend]

[ If Shinjiro weren't so strapped for cash, he might argue with her on that. As it is, he has limited funds and has to make it last... So he just nods his head briefly once in acknowledgment. The flowers are still creeping along the edges of his vision, but he's trying to ignore those for the time being. ]

It's got cinnamon and cayenne pepper in it. It's a nice flavour.

B

[dun_moch]

[Dooku handles this onslaught of new feelings and shadowy influence around him in his usual manner, which is to say with an air of aloof coolness that is nonetheless dramatic as fuck. He closes his eyes for a moment, holding a hand to his head as though trying to clear his mind, muttering:]

What is this darkness? This power?

[Then he lowers his hand and opens his eyes, and sees the answer to his question standing in front of him.]

Ah, Persephone. I might have known.

[pummelgranite]

[ Once identified, the power is easier to parse. It's destruction and death, always great, but filtered through and amplified by all the pain and anger that a mentally ill teenager can manage.

But she looks over to him when she hears his name, seemingly unaware. ]

Dooku. Something I can help you with?

[dun_moch]

[The Count suppresses a wince, drawing on all his iron self-control to buffer himself against the waves of Persephone's storm. This is intense, even by the standards of someone who draws power from negative emotions.]

Well, an explanation for your current display would certainly be appreciated.

[pummelgranite]

My current-

[ It takes a moment for her to realize what he means, but when he does, she seems uncharacteristically chagrined. ]

Ah, shite.

[dun_moch]

[Dooku raises an eyebrow. This is possibly the first time he's seen Persephone unaware of what she's doing. It's certainly the first time he's seen her chagrined.]

You didn't know?

wildcarding u

[reexamined]

It's daytime, bright and still cold. He's sure Hoth is colder than this, but right now his skin is convinced otherwise. Skin is still a new thing to him, and on top of that, so is 'freezing sensation.' He's glad he agreed to meet Persephone in the cafe, because he can't imagine standing outside for any good reason, even if the reason is to meet up with a God and drink.

Once inside, Persephone isn't difficult to find. He's the one that looks different, after all. A foot shorter than he should be, and 'more punchable' looking.

When he spots her, he approaches, and blows on his hands to warm them up. It looks as stupid as it sounds, but it also means he gets a little more feeling back in the tips, so it's worth it.

"I hope the place we're drinking at is nearby, and I would appreciate if you kept comments about my appearance to yourself."

[pummelgranite]

Persephone looks up from her undoubtedly complicated drink order. It would be a great time not to stare. But of course stare she does. She can't help it. She likes K2, and she can only imagine how unpleasant this is for him.

Her eyes meet his. The shadows in the room seem to darken and grow and shift. It feels a little hopeless. This isn't fair.

Then she looks back at her drink and shrugs, and the lighting in the room is normal again.

"Sure, whatever. The place isn't far."

[reexamined]

"...Right," Kay responds slowly, and with a slight shake of his head. That was odd. Maybe he's getting too tired again. It's only been twenty-six hours since he slept, he shouldn't be this bad already.

He begins heading for the door, and maybe being outside for a little won't be so bad, might wake him up a bit more.

[pummelgranite]

She catches him by the elbow. "This way, Big Guy."

Damn but he's out of it, huh? She's a least familiar with suddenly being in a new form with new senses, and she's kind enough that she's not going to make him go outside again. Instead she nods to a barista and they head- into the back of the shop . . . ?

[reexamined]

"What?"

He allows himself to be lead, not that he'd be able to go up against a God's strength anyway, even if he wanted to.