skippedabeat | Round 3: Test Drive

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test drive

Round 3: Test Drive

Welcome to the third test drive!

Please don't worry too much about using your Personas correctly or following the prompts exactly. They're meant to give you starting ideas, but by all means, go wild and add more options!

The objective here is to try out characters and see who you could have the most fun with in the game's setting. However, feel free to follow this link to request a Persona be generated for you as if you were part of the game. (Please try to limit this to only one of your test drive characters if you can as to not overwhelm us!)

If you have questions about the test drive itself, you can ask them here! If you want to play an AU don't forget this entire post can be used for you to get AU scenarios set up and see who your character might have been related too or know before Awakening.

Now then, let's begin...

Prompt 1 - The National Leviathan Habitat

Eddan's shimmering sapphire of an aquarium, the National Leviathan Habitat, is holding a series of special events at its location in Royal Mount. Students and family groups get half off, with certain events being completely free. This include a full night's stay at the aquarium sometime during the week for any person who checks in with their card. While spots are limited, it's such a large aquarium, and nights can be booked in advance, so it shouldn't be too much of a problem. So come, everyone! Enjoy whale spotting, aquarium strolling, educational shows, and a night surrounded by water. However, unknown to you, something else might be starting to beat in the deepest, darkest depths of your heart.

Similar to the flower festival that was used in the prior TDM, Unawakened characters can get a flash of memory sometime during this prompt and Awakened characters will be able to occasionally pick them out. For more information on the National Leviathan Habitat, which is a player introduced location, please check here.

Additionally, if both test drive player and game players agree, the aquarium test drive threads can also become game canon! As long as the test drive character is played as being completely unaware of what has happened in the game up to this point. Keep in mind that they would NOT have had a message on their phones. Two Test drive players can also make these game canon if they get accepted (and they keep the same requirements as above).

Prompt 2 - From Dawn to Dusk

The city has been abuzz for the past few weeks. A new string of murders is making front page news and serving as a grim reminder why the nightly curfew is so important. As families, perhaps even someone close to you, mourn, pressure continues to rise at the many police stations and at city hall. The people are afraid and they’re demanding answers.

There's not much time for you to dwell on this.. Like everyone else in the city, you have a lot to do, and a tight schedule to do it in, even on summer vacation. (Or maybe because of summer vacation for the local schools.) You don't even notice the application that has appeared on your phone's screen. The headache that follows, however, is strange and disorienting, and it brings with it an odd sensation that something is wrong today. You’re just not sure why.

The day passes by and soon, it's close to midnight. Your body, if you're not in bed by now, is completely exhausted. Despite your best efforts, you'll find yourself closing your eyes. Too bad it's quickly interrupted by a strange noise, and movement like something pulsating softly.

It's your phone, or at least you think it's your phone, but it's never glowed this orange before. There’s mist rising above it almost like fire...something's definitely bizarre about this. Despite your fears, you forces yourself to open it, and click on that strange snake-like icon.

It opens revealing a single statement and blank box;

To begin, please write your name.

Your fingers move on their own. Before you have time to really think about it, and as the pain inside your head becomes so terrible you start breathing rapidly and sweating, you've entered a series of letters and pressed enter. Now you're in a large chatroom with many others...but your 'name' you've never even heard of it...have you? It almost feels like you have...

Prompt 3 - Awakening

The last rays of the sun disappeared over the horizon almost an hour ago, yet here you are, walking through the apple orchards located behind one of the campus wings. The strange app that's been sending you strange clues the past seven days now says you're ready to face the truth. It told you to come here tonight, but never to travel alone. Repeatedly, it warns you to make sure to have someone close by if you're to survive…but besides some friends, what else did you bring with you? Did you pack for this, or did you figure you'd make it up as you go? Are you in a position to be able to bring weapons with you that no one would suspect?

Something is out there, and it's getting closer.

Before you can think, you see it: a large, blackish mass, almost like slime, slithering along the ground resembling a vaguely humanoid shape with glowing yellow eyes. When it roars again, it reveals rows and rows of teeth. This was a mistake your brain warns. The strange name from the chatroom, the days leading up to this...you're fairly certain even if you are prepared that you're going to die.

And yet, something inside you stirs. Even as they move closer, you find yourself charging instead of running, as your heartbeat increases. A voice inside is guiding you, each movement bringing forth a surge of memories of a past that you had lost. You’re angry and confused, but your pain, your fears, your rage for all of this… all of that needs to be taken out on those creatures.

All you need to do now is to tear out your heart.

Prompt 4 - A new, old life

Now that you have your memories back, the strange veil of this world has been somewhat lifted. Things that seemed simple now seem strange. You have so many questions, but not enough answers. Then there's the new weapons you wield and the strange creature inside of you...your Heart Persona.

During the day, you are encouraged to continue to live as you did before, but with old and new memories together, sometimes it is difficult to keep acting like you did. Will it cause issues in your job or school life? Will it change your reactions to whatever life you had here? Do you notice others like you who have awakened?

Maybe it would be a good time to send a chatroom message, just to ask others what they are planning to do. Maybe you should set up a meeting to fight shadows at night. Maybe you’ll organize a plan of attack or set up a club to escape the strange looks others have been giving you. Maybe you just want someone's opinion on the best place to have pizza. Hey, no one said you had to use the AppleNET just for serious things, after all.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

If I didn't know better, I'd think you were concerned.

[With good reason, Kit supposed. If there was nothing else between them, they still had their promise. Making good on that pact to fight one another seriously in the future would require them both to keep in good health. As such, bleeding internally would be unacceptable.

It was also not an issue. Kit might have been concerned if that haunting and otherworldly feeling he'd experienced after had only started after his fall and Vincent hadn't shown signs of being just as disturbed as him, but that wasn't the case. His speech was not slurred, he was not suffering from impaired vision, and he hadn't passed out yet or slipped into a coma. He was alright. As alright as anyone could expect to be after receiving a concussion.

Happily, Kit saw that Vincent was equally well. Despite the crusting of dried blood smeared across his face, a look that wasn't near as ghastly as Kit was sure Vincent might have liked, he seemed to be in fine condition. Or, as fine as sleeping on benches might have allowed anyone to feel.

Neither of them were at risk of blindly charging toward death. For the time being.]

In any case, I'm glad. But you're not going to be much use in a fight if this is how you treat yourself.

[He patted the arm of the bench for emphasis. How was Vincent going to be at his best if he refused to get proper rest?]

You don't know better.

[the correction is immediate and made without even really thinking. the most that Vincent feels towards people is interest or tolerance, in rare cases both. attachment of any sort was for people who cared to engage in their world more completely than he ever did. not pointless, but certainly not for him.

his gaze drops briefly at Kit's reference to his chosen sleeping location, eliciting a low chuckle from him. if I didn't know better, I'd think you were concerned.]

There's nothing wrong with how I treat myself. All you need to know are the angles that keep you comfortable.

[this is nowhere near a proper rest, but he's unable to admit to that in the face of the person who drove him to this point. besides, as he'd mused to himself, he'd slept in much worse conditions in the past. this was practically luxury in comparison.]

You mean to tell me you've perfected the art of sleeping on benches?

[Kit's tone suggested he didn't find this feat particularly impressive. On the contrary, he somehow seemed equal parts amused and curious. Just how often would one have to retire in public lounge areas in order to find the most comfortable angle for sleeping on any given surface? And why would someone take to sleeping there to begin with?

He still didn't know this boy's name, but the pieces of the puzzle surrounding him were slowly starting to come together. The details were still hazy, but Kit was beginning to understand little by little what sort of person his companion was.]

Well, at least you've found a valuable use for your time. The city of Eddan thanks you for being such a productive member of society. We'd be at a loss without your important contributions.

[Vincent scoffs, gingerly leaning back against the bench. it wasn't just benches that he'd refined this skill on, but that was clearly a detail whose sharing would be wasted on the current uncultured audience.]

Just wait until I master sleeping through assholes who don't know when to shut up. They'll be giving giving me a medal then.

[it's abundantly clear who the blabbermouth annoyance is supposed to be, but his tone is conversational enough that it's quite difficult to find reason to take any real offense. for someone as unpleasant as Vincent often tends to be, it's surprisingly easy to differentiate true insults and his own strange way of carrying on a talk.

it's not like he minds the distraction from his poor night's rest, anyway. there's something funny about the idea of Kit being plagued enough to return and check on him, of being interested in what his company might be able to offer enough to stay and trade barbs. on some hidden level he wants to see where it goes.]

[As Vincent leaned back, Kit tilted his head and regarded him. At first glance, he didn't look like much. He was presumably of an age with Kit, small, and could easily have passed for someone with an avid interest in the Visual Kei movement. In fact, his overall appearance seemed like it might have been carefully constructed to make up for what he lacked in stature, so many of his choices those that would have made him seem more threatening...

...if Kit wasn't himself someone who had mastered the use of erecting a visual pretense, too.

When he'd been younger, much of what he'd chosen to wear had been to allow for freedom of movement and to seem intimidating at the same time. But now, wishing to separate himself from that image and the person he'd been, he could easily pass for a well-intentioned and chic geek member of the community. Apart from the faint bruising of his chin and the scuffs his shoes and knees had sustained, he didn't appear to be an upstart. And next to Vincent, he looked entirely innocent. He was aware of this. And how to change it. Just as he was certain the other boy could do the same...if he wanted.

No one who put so much effort into looking one way would be incapable of looking the opposite if he needed. It wasn't just human nature, but the basic instinct all living beings were born with: adapt to survive.

Which brought him back around to considering that playful insult...

Had their exchange earlier really just been testing the waters? Had they discovered now the proper measure of push and pull? The thought amused Kit and, as Vincent had done, he leaned back against the bench and smiled.]

You don't want anything like that. It would clash terribly with what your wearing, and I'm afraid you don't have enough room left on your face to transform it into a viable piercing.

This really must be your first time. [encountering someone like him, he means.] I'm still pretty damn tame.

[it's the truth, even if he's aware how ironic that must sound given that he's saying it while covered in his own blood. even within the members of his own band Vincent was the most 'presentable', his ratio of hardware to face still trending towards the flesh side of things. looking out over the crowds at some of the clubs they've played in, one might easily mistake the audience for an overturned box of pincushions.

there was nothing stopping him from following suit these days. he'd surrounded himself with people who had no interest in dictating his choices - who would likely encourage him vigorously if they supplied an opinion at all. it would be all too easy to load himself up on piercings and tattoos alike.

but he didn't. it wasn't fear that stayed Vincent's hand, but a sense of dignity. he was still a relative newcomer to the scene with a great deal to prove; to smother himself in the trappings of his subculture would only broadcast insecurity, telegraph how little confidence he had in his ability to succeed on his own merits. the people he met who had weighed themselves down with mutilations weren't deserving of an inch of his respect - so why should he expect anything different for himself if he followed along?

there was no way to stop him from adorning himself as he saw fit. but Vincent was going to reach his goals with his own hands, not through empty posturing.]

All you'd need to do is slap a pentagram on it and you'd have a pretty hot accessory. It's not a very complicated style.

[not like the carefully cultivated harmlessness that Kit seemed to be peddling these days. he probably spent hours in the morning debating the aggression level of argyle.]

Hmm...

[With his own hands, was it? And not through empty posturing. And yet, here he was, still willing to parade around a symbol that didn't originate with or belong to his subculture just so that he could ensure an accessory was in vogue.

Truly, Vincent was still every bit a teenager. But they both were, weren't they?

Kit could have ridiculed his choice. As someone who believed in the occult, perhaps he should have. But he didn't. Instead, he took the topic to be an invitation and, more importantly, an opportunity. If he could just steer things back in the direction of one of their earlier conversations, he might yet acquire the information he'd been seeking.

Blast his unrelenting curiosity and determination to succeed.]

Upright or inverted?

[excuse you, Kit, but Satanism and other such grim occultism is very popular in the world of black metal. defacing a symbol of authoritarian approval with it is possibly the most metal thing that he could do in this hypothetical situation.]

Inverted, of course. Although I doubt half the people interested would know the difference to begin with.

[as long as there was a star in a circle most of the people wanting to look edgy and dark would be satisfied. he doubted they understood that having only a single point upright was open to many more benign interpretations; could they ever imagine that such a thing was once used by Christians themselves? unlikely.

there's no point in blindly following anything, even if you have a true passion for it. it rarely comes up (has almost never, before now) but Vincent has done his homework on the symbols and common beliefs of his niche. it's the least he can do to show some respect.]

[Totally the most metal, but not necessarily the most mindful or respectful use of the symbol itself. Except from the perspective of a Satanist. But was Vincent a Satanist?]

Man above God, then?

[And all his desires and material pursuits along with him raised to a level of importance far above established religious doctrine. The entirety of mankind deified, the realm of men held in the greatest esteem while Heaven and the promises of other faiths were openly rejected. Glory and immortality were theirs to take if they chose, not have lorded over them as the rewards for good behavior as judged by divine forces.

Kit could see the appeal. But it seemed such a silly thing to need to parade any of that. What would such an act accomplish? Besides attracting unnecessary, and perhaps very much unwanted attention, of course.]

That is perhaps the newest interpretation of the pentagram, despite there being instances of the inverted symbol seen throughout history before. Still, people see it as a sign of evil, of Satanic ritual that serves to attract demons rather than repel them like its upright counterpart. That wouldn't worry you?

Not when that's the point.

[the ugly and brutal side of every world, supernatural or not. that was what black metal glorified, throwing open the depravity of existence so wide that none could look away from it. there was nothing frightening about the possibility of bringing those hideous monsters to your doorstep - the odds were good that they were already there.

to wear such things around one's neck, to participate in such dark things, it wasn't meant to show off. it was a challenge hurled out into the universe, daring any creature that thought itself mighty to come and overturn their philosophy. boasts were only empty words without the willingness to stand behind them.]

If you're going to believe that you're above everything else, then there's nothing you should be afraid of. If they want to come, let them.

[he laughs again, lowly]

Maybe they'll learn a thing or two.

[The laughter Vincent's response elicited was soft, but true. It echoed through the empty lobby, a full-bodied sort of mirth that had risen from Kit's gut free of constructs like propriety or composure.

Let them come? Let the demons come?

As he regarded his companion and then the stairwell they sat across from, Kit nodded, shoulders still gently bouncing with laughter. This time, however, his humor wasn't at the expense of the boy sitting next to him. To challenge the world, one would be required to give their all or nothing. There were no half-measures when it came to survival, no easy way outs. No reward could be acquired if no risk was ever taken.

He felt that ideology to his very core. Let them come, indeed.]

They can't learn anything if they're dead.

[Implying that he believed Vincent would not be so lenient with demons as he'd been with him.]

But it sounds like there's still plenty for you to be taught. Do you fall farther from the peak of the mountain or its base? Fear reminds you to be sure-footed. It isn't a weakness.

It's for the next life.

[the implication that he'd murder any demon foolish enough to cross paths with him is left untouched, a tacit confirmation of its veracity. if one wished to slay gods, mercy could have no part in their actions.

let fools learn from their mistakes in another time, another world. there was much that the past could teach someone - a thought that is especially present in his mind tonight, when icy hands against talisman shields still whisper through his memories.

it's a bit silly, but being able to startle something a little less composed from Kit tugs his smile several inches wider. there's something deeply satisfying in being able to rattle masks like his askew.]

You're always going to hit the ground no matter how far you fall; fear only keeps you from climbing at all to avoid it. It's better to be good enough that slipping isn't even a possibility.

Arrogance can be even more crippling than fear.

[Not unlike laughing much too freely before one's body had fully recovered, Kit realized too late.

He could only hope that by wrapping his jacket more tightly around him, the fall of his long hair had concealed the momentary grimace that reached his face. Probably, his aches and pains would linger long into the morning. And, if they were gone at all before the week was up, he'd be very lucky.]

A man can control himself, not the mountain. Fear of consequence is how he learns to survive treacherous terrain and become good enough to reach the top.

You're overestimating people.

[he responds dryly, canting his head to the side lightly. if Vincent had seen the flash of regret on his companion's face, he's choosing not to comment on it. given his usual quickness to point out flaws it's more likely that he just barely missed it.

it's not like he really has much room to talk to begin with. the shifting of his head had been less to do with getting a better look at Kit while they're talking and more of an attempt to chase away that goddamned kink in his neck. this was always the problem with benches that had arms.]

I'm quite certain I'm not overestimating anyone who holds himself above even gods.

[His tone was teasing, but also seemed to suggest he believed his claim. Not that he had a choice. If he didn't embrace that philosophy, then he was admitting defeat in the face of all his past adversities. He liked this way better. He would not surrender. He would learn everything there was to know about his opponents or any obstacles that stood in his way. By doing so he would rise above them.

And this time he would succeed because he knew the price of failure.

That he should find such thoughts prevailing now, however... Kit help wondering if that was some other failing of his. Every time he thought he'd buried those skeletons, a grisly hand rose up from the grave again to seize him. Would he ever escape those mistakes? Would he never outrun his regrets?]

In any case, you're not going to be climbing any mountains if you're stiff as a board. Do you really intend to spend the rest of the night here when you could come back to the room?

[he doesn't argue the point further, as it's all hypothetical nonsense, but Vincent does allow himself a soft snort. in his experience most of the people who held themselves over gods were exactly the ones who'd back down at the slightest hint of something unpleasant. that was the way the world world, after all.

but Kit's back at harping on his choice of nighttime venue, as if this whole thing had been one elaborate setup to continue nagging him about it. if it weren't for sore memories, he'd mention that even his mother didn't ride his ass about trivial things this much.]

You're the only one who thinks that I'm uncomfortable. There's nothing in those rooms that I can't find here.

[honestly he'd kill for a proper bed right now. but pride is a powerful thing, and he still feels as if returning would be admitting defeat. it's a difficult situation to be in.]

[He only thought Vincent was uncomfortable, did he?

Then he wouldn't mind Kit leaning toward him and jabbing his side with a pointed finger!]

[uh, excuse you, but what the fuck.

Kit may have taken the brunt of their little scrap, but he's still pretty damn sore all over. some of the worst parts of that eternal ache happen to be his sides, which so helpfully had crashed into the railings several times before their trip down the stairs. without any sort of warning as to his companion's intentions he's got no chance to react and deflect the jab in time - and god, does that sting.

Vincent's head cracks painfully against the wall as he jerks upright and practically leaps several feet in the air in his painful alarm. he reacts on instinct, reaching out harshly to try and shove the culprit in the chest and knock him right off the bench. for once he's not looking to start another fight, but some form of retaliation in this case is necessary.]

[That sounded like it hurt. So much so that Kit almost felt badly about having startled the other boy. Perhaps he could have deigned to prove his point a little more gently?

But all thoughts of apology were dismissed the moment Vincent struck back, his hand crashing into the center of Kit's chest. His breath was forced from his lungs not solely from the force of Vincent's retaliation, but from the tender state of his own body being pushed again to its limits. Somehow, however, he managed to keep from toppling over the arm of the bench and spilling indignantly onto the floor.

Small mercies, right?]

You're a poor liar...

[the smallest of mercies. Kit may have not made his date with the lobby floor, but that's only left him within full range of a frighteningly sour look from his companion. the score's been settled even without him falling off the bench, but Vincent can't help but feel somewhat disappointed all the same.

he also can't help but wish it wouldn't look so undignified to rub his head right now. that definitely hurt.]

That makes two of us.

[how many times during this conversation had Kit insisted that he was perfectly fine? or that he'd only returned here because he couldn't sleep? there was certainly more than one hypocrite in the room.]

[He had a point. Kit couldn't argue otherwise. But how could he broach the topic of those visions again when he knew what would happen the moment he tried?

The emptiness of the lobby would vanish and it would feel very suddenly like they were both surrounded by something that could devour them with a single swallow.

Indeed, fear wasn't the enemy. Something much, much worse was.]

You're right.

[But what more could he say than that? Still massaging the soreness from his chest, his gaze wandered in the direction of those brightly lit stairs. They ought to have looked safe to him, but instead they reminded him of an angler fish. A bright spot in an otherwise dark setting, with a mouth wide open and waiting like a steel trap for its prey to waltz right in.]

I suppose that means neither of us is going anywhere.

Maybe.

[you hit the ground no matter the distance from which you fell. wherever they went, that unseen specter would constantly be at their side. the only way to escape it was through perpetual silence.

the thought of being cowed by something like this galls at him suddenly, pricking his smoldering temper into a white hot rage. how could he talk about vanquishing demons when he couldn't even overcome a threat as solid as the cardboard backgrounds of a haunted house? why should he ever let a mere illusion dictate his choices?

Kit must harbor the same frustrations, but was too careful in his footing to make any true progress. in that case, he would scale this mountain for the both of them.]

Live.

[the word sparks onto the scene suddenly, long after Vincent's silence had given the impression of an amiable lull in conversation. his gaze is trained on some random tile in the lobby floor, the picture of nonchalance; it's only upon closer inspection that one would see his stare is sharp enough to slice right through the stone.

demons were bound by rules. this was the core tenet in every story, every myth, no matter its origin. whatever their malicious intent, even they couldn't err from the restrictions which bound them. he knows this, and it's in this immutable fact that he sees an opportunity.

their ethereal opponent only closed in when they attempted to address the elephant in the room directly. so, then, if he spoke but didn't speak about it, stole words that would only be significant to a few...he should survive.]

Live, and when you return here, please kill me first.

[that's what the woman had said before throwing 'him' into the abyss.

the pain strikes Vincent as soon as the words leave his mouth. he'd expected it, but the feeling of a searing poker being shoved through the middle of his forehead is no easier to bear for the preparation. his eyes clamp shut and his body slumps slightly, leaning heavily against the arm of the bench.

it's almost intolerable - but 'almost' in the key word. he could withstand this. and, more importantly, he'd said everything he'd intended to. even the devils of this aquarium must live by their rules.]

[Live?

Kit recalled when, some hours ago, Vincent had spoken the same word to him in the stairwell. Had that not been the start of some ultimatum after all?

He knew now just by listening to what followed that the message being shared had not originally been intended for his ears. Whatever the other boy was saying had the sound of something that had been conveyed to him a long time ago, by someone full of regret, and obviously not alone. Or perhaps...they hadn't been speaking to him, but to someone who shared his face?

The visions! Like the one he'd had about the man with the mask.

Hours after he'd set out to discover the truth his companion had finally confirmed his suspicions, but following his subtle confession, Vincent slumped against the arm of the bench. And Kit knew why that was, too. Attempting to speak about certain things seemed to invite a most savage pain or, worse, the invisible shadow that had made him feel like his spine might liquefy on the spot.

Was there nothing he could do?

He hesitated. Fear reminding him to be sure-footed. One careless mistake and it wouldn't be just him who suffered...but why should he care? He'd gotten what he came for. That was all that mattered, wasn't it? The otherworldly something wouldn't bother him if he walked away right now and never spoke of this again.

...but could he live with himself if again he turned away from someone in very obvious need?

Much as he was tempted to stand and leave, his hand found Vincent's shoulder instead, his grip strong but careful, the sort that steadied and reassured at the same time.]

Don't say anything more.

[Demons might have been made to obey specific sets of rules, but in the northeast corner of Eddan, in the northeast corner of the Leviathan Habitat, both Vincent and he were in their domain. Clever risks reaped rewards, but for the foolish, the only prize was death.]

Don't tell me what to do.

[pain makes the reply raspy, but no less harsh. he speaks practically on instinct, barely aware of the words slipping out of his mouth until he hears them for himself. it's more petulance than pride right now.

even so, he doesn't make any actual attempts to continue speaking, nor does he bat Kit's hand away. the agony he's currently suffering through is a ready excuse, albeit one he's not coherent enough to even contemplate at the moment. it felt as if someone were attempting to drill a hole straight through his skull, throbbing hurt radiating out from its central location. always the same spot, even now.

he'd won, though. he'd bested whatever stupidity they'd unwittingly found themselves ensnared in. the promise of being able to revel in that victory alone was enough to make Vincent certain that he could (and would) ride this out.

in the meantime...it was good to know someone was with him.]

[If Kit were perturbed by Vincent's petulant display, he offered no indication. Instead, his hand remained in place upon the other teen's shoulder while, chin tilting upwards, he surveyed the lobby for any sign, any indication of where the threat might be coming from.

How could it come from all sides at once? Like they'd wandered unwittingly into some territory that...

Kaito sat confidently before them in his chair, the broken piece of Hiei's sword lying at his feet, an open book in his lap.

"In this space, physical violence won't work...against anything." There was no more question as to whether or not this human boy was bluffing. Whatever strange power he'd come into, he planned to use it to subdue each of them. They needed to exercise caution, of that Kurama was certain. But if he'd been fed information about them, then Kaito would know precisely how to trigger the reaction he— "Hiei, you may be a master of the sword and magic...but in my territory, you're like an ant."

Dammit!

Predictably, the other demon rose to the challenge just as Kurama was afraid, and just as Kaito had known he would. "Hiei, watch out, he's provoking you!" Under no circumstances should they disobey the established rules of this territory and say the word 'hot'. After all, it wasn't just their lives on the line, but Yusuke's. However, despite his warning, Kurama could already tell that Hiei had no intention of listening. He had never liked being told what to do by anyone else. "Hiei!!"

...but it was already too late. Hiei's mouth opened, and what emerged was a rebellious diatribe during which the taboo word had been uttered twice.

He'd never been one to show restraint, but now it had cost him and all Botan, Kuwabara, and him could do was look on in disbelief as one of the strongest among them was rendered completely incapacitated.

"In my space, the one who says the forbidden word has his soul stolen..."

...Kit gave a shudder, breath catching as he sagged involuntarily against Vincent's shoulder, his temples pulsing like a star on the verge of collapse: hot and with such a blinding brightness it was a wonder he could still see anything at all.]

...must stay vigilant.

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