[It's hard to avoid all of these memory shards when they're all over the ground. Maybe it's a good week to stay indoors...
But for now a memory plays.
You're sitting on your broom, high, high above the gigantic Basilisk far below you. You're furious at this monster for gobbling up another witch. Bradley is next to you, and at your demand, his shotgun shifts into a pistol. He riddles you with bullets, but it doesn't feel like pain, it feels like a rush of power. It's been a long, long time since you've felt this much righteous anger, but it's well deserved.
You're faster than normal, easily evading the Basilisk's attacks. Snapping your fingers cutlery surrounds you and an endless hail of your weapons batters the creature.]
That's my human buddy. He's... [ Uhm. She pauses a moment.
And Nero can catch a reflection of the light in one of the glass shards, before they're transported into a memory.
It's Power, walking in the city, but the air is... wrong. A nervous tension binds her from head to toe, her feet bringing her forward step by step but her body doesn't feel like hers. She sweats, nervous and uncharacteristically quiet, as she stops in front of the cake shop and orders one, placing money on the counter and conveying exactly what she wants. The lady behind the counter, seeing that the girl is very obviously a devil, nervously complies, and Power leaves after accepting the box.
Tomorrow is Denji's birthday. She is to get a cake, and come to Makima's apartment. She is to walk up the stairs and come to that specific room, and she is to ring the doorbell.
She stops before the door, and unboxes the cake quietly, picking it up. 'Happy 17th Birthday', it says, merrily in somewhat shaky but professionally done frosting font. And she stands there and waits, heart thudding in her chest, that feeling of dread absolutely inescapable. The atmosphere of something terrible to come.
She stands there for a good while, actually, until the door opens. There's Denji, a blond boy who looks uncertain and uncomfortable, and a red-haired woman behind him. The air is off. Power stands there with the cake, timidly holding it a little bit higher.
'Denji...' she greets, a bead of sweat running down her neck. And the red-haired woman, with a smile, points towards her with a finger, hand shaped like a gun.
'Bang.'
And just like that -- her entire insides, crushed and gone, a massive bang and the wall behind her stained in red, her entire upper body absolutely demolished. Her head flies as her lower half hits the wall and slides to the ground, and her head rolls. The cake falls, forgotten, and everything goes black.
And then the scene lights up again, and Power is there, standing and staring blankly, as if they hadn't just had a memory where she'd just been murdered mercilessly. ]
[It's Power's memory. He knows it's not his, but in the moment of it, it feels exactly like he's the one there. Standing there, fear throttling through his throat approaching the door.
This red haired woman, whoever she is, Power was right to be afraid of her, she was right.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
w2: Monday
But for now a memory plays.
You're sitting on your broom, high, high above the gigantic Basilisk far below you. You're furious at this monster for gobbling up another witch. Bradley is next to you, and at your demand, his shotgun shifts into a pistol. He riddles you with bullets, but it doesn't feel like pain, it feels like a rush of power. It's been a long, long time since you've felt this much righteous anger, but it's well deserved.
You're faster than normal, easily evading the Basilisk's attacks. Snapping your fingers cutlery surrounds you and an endless hail of your weapons batters the creature.]
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...Ritty, did you see that? -- Oh! You there!
[ And like magic (haha), it's like Nero materialises from memory to reality... or really, she just walks right into him. ]
What were you doing?
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[Because he is really just assuming she means like. Right now? In the present? He was going to steal some clothes.]
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[Hellish. Why are his memories on display!?]
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Was that your magic in action, wizard?
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[He sighs and he nods, because he's absolutely sure he can't lie about this.]
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[ Simple as ever. ]
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It is?
[ That's surprising. ]
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[It's not stressful trying to talk to her.]
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I usually get yelled at.
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Teenagers get yelled at pretty often.
[Ahah, Shino.]
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And Nero can catch a reflection of the light in one of the glass shards, before they're transported into a memory.
It's Power, walking in the city, but the air is... wrong. A nervous tension binds her from head to toe, her feet bringing her forward step by step but her body doesn't feel like hers. She sweats, nervous and uncharacteristically quiet, as she stops in front of the cake shop and orders one, placing money on the counter and conveying exactly what she wants. The lady behind the counter, seeing that the girl is very obviously a devil, nervously complies, and Power leaves after accepting the box.
Tomorrow is Denji's birthday.
She is to get a cake, and come to Makima's apartment.
She is to walk up the stairs and come to that specific room,
and she is to ring the doorbell.
She stops before the door, and unboxes the cake quietly, picking it up. 'Happy 17th Birthday', it says, merrily in somewhat shaky but professionally done frosting font. And she stands there and waits, heart thudding in her chest, that feeling of dread absolutely inescapable. The atmosphere of something terrible to come.
She stands there for a good while, actually, until the door opens. There's Denji, a blond boy who looks uncertain and uncomfortable, and a red-haired woman behind him. The air is off. Power stands there with the cake, timidly holding it a little bit higher.
'Denji...' she greets, a bead of sweat running down her neck. And the red-haired woman, with a smile, points towards her with a finger, hand shaped like a gun.
'Bang.'
And just like that -- her entire insides, crushed and gone, a massive bang and the wall behind her stained in red, her entire upper body absolutely demolished. Her head flies as her lower half hits the wall and slides to the ground, and her head rolls. The cake falls, forgotten, and everything goes black.
And then the scene lights up again, and Power is there, standing and staring blankly, as if they hadn't just had a memory where she'd just been murdered mercilessly. ]
...seventeen.
[ Happy birthday, Denji. ]
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This red haired woman, whoever she is, Power was right to be afraid of her, she was right.
He lifts a hand to his own chest, slight panic-
No.
They're both fine right now.]
Power?
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Um.
[ Well, that's awkward. She's still feeling the remnant effects of that particular memory -- a dark spot, even for someone as unassailable as her. ]
Did you see that also?
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Yeah.
Are you okay?
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[ Makima's not here. She doesn't have control over her anymore. As for her death? Well, that's another story, isn't it. ]
I am Power! Such a thing won't keep me down!
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[Terrifying. Why did she have the same kind of eyes as the twins?]
Right. Devils don't have a real end.
[He still rubs his chest. Still solid. No holes.]
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She was my boss... at the Public Safety Commission.
[ She clearly doesn't like Makima, but she's also in clear trepidation about her. ]
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[Bad vibes, but maybe that's just left over from Power's own personal feelings.]
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