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

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.

[how ironic that Kit's words before collapsing was a warning to stay vigilant. the sudden weight against his shoulder completely surprises him, eliciting a sharp turn of his head that he almost immediately regrets.]

...dammit.

[it doesn't take a genius to figure out the cause of his companion's sudden attack, but Vincent can't quite follow the reasoning. he had been the one prying open this secret world, not Kit. the other boy shouldn't be paying the price for another's imprudent challenge.

had something else happened..? was it possible that his own words had triggered some unknown effect in his listener's mind? it's the only conclusion that he can draw without pressing for details, and even then only barely. the fireworks in his own skull still hadn't subsided.]

And a great job you're doing, too.

[even if it still didn't contain overtures of strained hurt, Vincent's words would be completely lacking in teeth. he just needs to say something to make it clear that he was still here, that he was dutifully taking his place as a guard against whatever malevolence was lurking unseen around them. his companion didn't need to tax himself in that regard, at least.

it's all so contrary to his nature, but that too he imagines can be blamed on the headache. nothing else could possibly explain why he goes against every instinct he possesses and shifts so that Kit can rest more comfortable on his shoulder rather than shove him off.]

[Kit could scarcely recall having uttered anything after his vision, so real was the anger and concern he'd felt for the well-being of his imaginary friend. A boy named Hiei, like the mountain in Japan. It was strange that Kit couldn't seem to remember what that boy looked like now, but he couldn't forget the consequences of his bold posturing.

A soul sucked from his body as easily as liquid passes through a straw, there one moment and then...just like that it had come to rest in Kaito's hand. It was a little frightening the way one's entire essence and everything that made him who he was could fit so compactly into a human-sized palm. How fragile must such a thing be, pulled from the shell that protected it?

A few moments longer, that was all Kit allowed himself, and then he leaned away from Vincent, the hand upon his shoulder drawing back into his own lap. Were these visions a warning, perhaps? But this one was nothing at all like the first had been, and seemed to have nothing in common with what little he'd heard of Vincent's.

Still, the way he'd felt on the stairwell earlier wasn't too unlike how he'd felt in the 'territory' of that vision. The rules had been altered suddenly, and it was up to them to obey if they wished to survive. Their chances of survival would be at their greatest if they didn't speak carelessly. And they wouldn't be able to speak carelessly if they were not in each other's company...

Not for the first time, and probably not for the last, he considered standing up and walking away. He was good at that, after all. So very good at putting distance between himself and others. But he remained where he was, staring through bleary, black-and-white spotted eyes in the direction of the stairwell.

He was certain of two things. First, that they were alive still because, however it may have seemed, the thing that had stalked them did not truly want them dead. And second...]

...we must be more careful.

[It was said that one could not fight an enemy they couldn't see, but Kit didn't believe that at all. Caution and preparation were a warrior's greatest tools for survival. If he was ready, smart, and more importantly, if he was patient, he could learn all he needed to know about his enemy. He could isolate them and restrict their means of survival, force them into the open, and then dismantle them. But it wouldn't be easy.

And it shouldn't be exhilarating...but it was.]

Take your own advice first.

[he's glad that the additional weight on him only lasts for a brief time. even supporting someone else in such a meager way was taxing in the face of his headache, and its welcomed absence allows for the worst of it to finally begin subsiding.

despite the official end of his 'watch', Vincent's eyes remained trained on the lobby doors all the same, body tensed in preparation for an ugly brawl. it seemed that the more energy this entity drained from him, the more it incited his burning desire to fight the damn thing.]

We're going to need a better strategy.

[when had they started referring to themselves as a connected pair? the thought idly passes through Vincent's mind as he looks back on his own words, but not long enough for him to really dwell on it. it just didn't seem as important as the mystery confronting them now. in some ways it almost felt...natural.

even though it would severely hamper his disaffected facade, he brings a hand up to rub at that singular spot on his forehead. something about the specificity with which the headaches have struck him leaves him particularly irritated, like they're trying to challenge something that should exist but doesn't. the fact he has no way to explain any of this chafes more than it should.]

[His own advice? Kit chuckled at that.

It wasn't like he'd given up trying to devise a plan. Quite the opposite, really. But everything he knew about fighting opponents more powerful than him did not apply to this situation. To make matters worse, consulting his companion would no doubt result in more mind-splitting headaches.

So, what could they do?

Knowing what was off limits was a good start. They couldn't speak directly about the symptoms or the cause. They couldn't pinpoint its location, either. Without being able to see it, striking it would be difficult, and that was even assuming it had a corporeal form.

Any ordinary person might think their situation hopeless, but not Kit. He saw something more.

The first step was acknowledging that something else was there with them, and Vincent conceding that their current strategy wasn't enough proved they were on the same page. They couldn't fight what they didn't believe existed, but here they both knew whatever was threatening them was a very real problem. Next, if its form wasn't solid, they would need to assume that it was everywhere and nowhere at once, requiring they learn to strike back in less obvious ways. Revising the way that they communicated would be a good place to begin...although it was guaranteed to require a little trial and error on their part. And an ability to withstand pain was also necessary.

Of course, that was something they both seemed to possess in spades.]

We could go our separates ways and forget this happened.

[Kit's smile was tired...but completely unwilling to surrender.]

Or we can try protective rituals or talismans. I've read black tourmaline is effective, as well as iron and salt. [He then glanced sidelong at Vincent but, more specifically, at his piercings.] Perhaps a silver pentacle isn't a bad idea at all.

[Though neither of them had anything at the moment resembling such.]

They're stainless steel.

[almost as if reading the other boy's mind, Vincent's response comes tinged with faint amusement. he must have some earrings and ear cuffs that were precious metals, he thinks, but the majority of his jewelry trended towards steel. it was a little less expensive, and a hell of a lot more durable. that little incident with his eyebrow piercing earlier wasn't the first time he'd treated his hardware roughly.

as he allows his hand to drop back into his lap, he can't help but think about what else he may own in silver. the ring he'd received as one of the many gifts from his parents for starting high school comes to mind, albeit reluctantly. he hadn't pawned that away, had he? even if the answer was no, he isn't sure if warding off the supernatural was a strong enough reason to overpower his distaste for wearing it in public.

perhaps a shopping trip to further expand his wardrobe was in the near future...]

If we get a manifestation we can try striking a deal, but that's not reliable.

[not because he has no confidence in their ability to overcome a spirit that may be inclined to lie and cheat, but because said spirit doesn't seem to feel the need to makes its presence known in a more substantial way. that would only be a maybe.]

How's your handwriting? We could at least make some ofuda here.

[would someone like Kit even know the proper characters to write on such a talisman? it's hard to say, given his prior reference of ayakashi. if not they'd simply have to rely on Vincent's rusty memories.]

[Every last one of his piercings were stainless steel. Of course. Kit had hoped for something among all of the hardware Vincent wore to be at least a little more pure, but it seemed they wouldn't be so fortunate today. Not with that, and not with anything else.]

My handwriting is very good, but... [He offered an apologetic smile and shook his head.] ...what would we even write on?

Even if you feel inclined to sacrifice some of your notebook paper, we don't have everything else we need. The right ink, incense, candles, or fire.

[And what would they write upon the ofuda? Which kami's name would be inscribed? What Vincent proposed wasn't a simple procedure that could be done anywhere or with any materials, not if it was to be effective. A scrap of clothing made of natural fibers could be substituted in place of cheap paper, but it was doubtful the other boy was carrying a brush on his person, or the appropriate ink. A lighter, perhaps. But they had no candle or incense. At best, they were half prepared. And that was being generous.

It was almost as if the something that had stalked them earlier knew that. They could think of all the long-term and short-term means of protection they wanted, but what would truly help them this instant?]

...let's try it with what we have. I can't think of anything else that might work here except evil-eye rituals, anyway.

If shit really hits the fan we can always light up some cigarettes.

[tobacco was used to dispel evil and purify areas in some cultures, after all. Vincent's careful to offer this up as strictly the last of all resorts, however - mostly because he's absolutely certain that after this stupidity is over he's going to need to inhale whatever's left of the carton himself. never in his life has he regretted taking advantage of a free opportunity as much as now.

he's already digging through his pockets for the appropriate items, even as Kit systematically destroys the possibility of this gambit actually succeeding. the notebook, a pen, and his lighter, just in case they decided that a little fire might be necessary. they didn't have candle or incense, but they could substitute some more notebook paper or items from the trash for that.

it's been so long since he even thought about these rituals. so many of the details have just passed straight from his mind into the lost parts of his memory. the thought strikes him with a surprising pang of bitterness.]

We'll just have to infuse it with especially strong energy to make up for what we don't have.

[it's a sardonic sort of comment as he hands his contributions over, but there's some genuine merit in the idea. tools were only as effective as the ones wielding them. even with a broken means of defense, they could still pull out a victory.]

[Even as Kit accepted the items from Vincent, he found himself musing aloud.]

I wonder how effective contaminated tobacco would be in warding off evil?

[Or perhaps the other boy meant for them to smoke the cigarettes themselves. A sort of last hurrah in the face of whatever was haunting them. Kit couldn't say the idea lacked appeal, but it wasn't his style. Admitting defeat? He would rather win at all costs and take the enemy kicking and screaming down with him. If that's what it took.

After shifting off the bench so that he could kneel before it, the items were displayed before him where he'd previously been sitting. From his pocket he produced a small butterfly knife that was used to precisely cut an appropriate sized strip of paper from Vincent's notebook, and after the knife was put away again and the notebook set aside, he lifted up the pen.]

In any case, which kami's name should I write? Komokuten punishes evil, but Bishamonten is said to be chief of the Shitenno and a god of war.

[There were countless other deities whose names they could invoke, but required here was the one best suited to the task at hand: protection. Kit couldn't claim to know them all, even with how much he'd absorbed from all his reading, but those two were prominent and well-known figures in the culture for their representation of two of four cardinal directions: west and north, respectively.

Then there was the matter of writing the either name correctly. He hadn't lied when he said his handwriting was good, but that didn't mean he was well-versed in the regular use of kanji, and it didn't help that Bishamonten was called by many other names in just Japanese alone. If he made even one mistake, the entire message could read something completely different.]

[contaminated? Vincent lets out an amused snort as he finally decides to be somewhat thoughtful and shifts so that his tiny bulk isn't taking up the majority of the bench. might as well at least give him a chance to properly write all this out.]

Probably even more effective like that, considering what's in them.

[tar, nicotine, radioactive waste...in his opinion, all of that just made the 'weapon' even more frightening for any prospective demon.

but the matter of gods is a bit more tricky, and he lapses into thoughtful silence for several moments after the question is posed to him. this is his childhood, once again, but it's just as hazy as his own recollection of writing out ofuda properly. there's a great deal of nuance to be considered, and when he does answer the words still come slowly.]

Probably better to go with Hachiman. Bishamonten's only interested in people who follow the rules.

[Hachiman, on the other hand, was not only a god of war but the divine protector of Japan and its people, no matter how far from home they may have traveled. if there was any god morally obligated to stand at their side regardless of their own personal natures, it was him.]

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