skippedabeat | Round 3: Test Drive

Entry tags:

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

[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.]

[Glancing up from his work, Kit fixed the other boy with a wry expression.]

And we're more rule-breakers than followers, is that it?

[If the shoe fit and all that.

But, as he began carefully writing out the kanji for Hachiman (an altogether more complex name than the other two had been) he wondered, was he still someone who would rather break the rules than follow them? He'd been making great strides toward living honestly. Overlooking, of course, the frequent bids for "work" he sometimes received from people to "acquire" back something of theirs that had gone missing. He was helping people. Keeping up his grades. Staying out of trouble...

...making ofuda in the lobby of an aquarium wasn't trouble-making, was it? Ah, but starting a fight in the stairwell certainly was.

He sighed. Just thinking about this whole mess — his life, their situation, all of it — was inviting another headache. Nevertheless, as soon as he'd completed the name in as neat a fashion as Vincent's pen would allow, Kit turned the slip of paper around so that his companion could inspect it. He trusted his own work, but he was also tired and...not born in Japan as he was beginning to suspect the other teen might have been.]

If this is satisfactory, I'll need you to wield the lighter while I wave it through the fire. I think we'll need to burn some paper in place of incense, too.

[Lighting fires in the lobby... That was definitely breaking some rules, too.]

I'm not going to let other people box in my options.

[that's completely different from being a rulebreaker; people like that sought to disrupt established authority for no reason other than attention and a desperate need to see others upset. Vincent had no trouble crossing the law (delighted in it, many times) but there was always purpose behind it. he was ill-tempered, not mindless.

he leans forward slightly to pluck the paper out of Kit's hands, staring wordlessly at it for a moment with an expression that is altogether too judgemental for their current predicament. with a soft tilt of his head he hands it back with nothing more than a simple:]

It'll do.

[so encouraging, Vincent. I'm sure everyone you know remarks on how nice it is to receive praise from you.

but he's reaching for the lighter obediently all the same, as well as sliding the notebook over to tear out some pages to use for makeshift candles. the fact that they're dancing closer and closer to true delinquency with every new decision doesn't seem to bother him at all.]

How rebellious.

[There was another reason, one Kit knew all too well. Some people were inclined to break the rules simply because they could, because the established authorities weren't enough to stop them and the thrill of success was a far greater reward than the attention others sought, or the aggravation they wished to inspire.

How many times had Kit participated in various criminal operations only to feel that the excitement had gone? That was why he and those who followed him had branched out, their petty crimes becoming more serious felonies. He'd found his rush of pleasure again: nothing worthwhile was gained without taking risks.

Then again, the bigger the risk and its reward, the bigger the consequence if one failed. He'd learned the hard way...

Accepting the paper back from Vincent, he made no comment on the vague approval his handwriting had garnered, if one could even call it such. Kit wagered that, coming from Vincent, anything that didn't produce blatant criticism and verbal condemnation could be easily interpreted as a sign of his approval, however.

Capping the pen and setting it aside, he shifted around so that he could sit on the cement tiled floor and motioned for Vincent to join him. It wasn't very comfortable, but if they were going to burn anything, it was safest to go about burning it in a place that wouldn't also catch on fire, especially as they didn't exactly have anything to burn the paper in.

Half prepared was probably a gross overestimation, now that he really thought about it.]

Just waiting on you now.

[Vincent and his collection of makeshift paper-candles drop quietly to the floor, albeit a little slower than he would have liked. the energy of their situation has completely captured him, but with movements like this his body is swift to remind him that it's not even close to having completely recovered.

he takes a moment to settle himself as if he were sitting in an actual shrine, moving on instinct before he can really correct the mistake. well, whatever. might as well lend some semblance of reverence to this whole thing.

the lighter flicks on with a practiced motion, casting eerie shadows across both teens' faces. Vincent smiles, somewhere between ironic and challenging. time to take the last step in this bad idea.]

Whenever you're ready.

[Not only was Kit ready, but he didn't hesitate.

Even if their roles should have been reversed, Vincent the one between them who didn't appear to have mere textbook knowledge of the ritual they were performing, but real experience, Kit still proceeded with confidence. To do otherwise at this stage would be to subvert the entire ceremony and what steps they'd taken towards its completion. Moreover, it could even make the haunting worse.

Kit would have none of that, and so he concentrated instead...on Hachiman and their bid for protection, passing their makeshift ofuda through the flame and smoke three times as he did so. Infuse the talisman with his essence. Chase away the unseen evil entity that stalked them. Guard their minds, bodies, and spirits from harm. And ward off all other calamities that might befall them, regardless of what form they may take.

When he was finished, Kit laid the ofuda between the "candle" and "incense" where it would stay until they had both finished burning. In the meantime, those shadows continued to play across their faces, a fact Kit was clearly all too aware of when he finally spoke again.]

If all else fails, there's always human sacrifice.

[evil begone. dash my enemies at your feet. may only good fortune pass through this threshold from now on. Vincent had been half-joking when he'd suggested they lend their own spiritual energy to the ofuda to make up for its shortcomings, but as he watches the tag pass through the flame he finds himself attempting it in earnest.

it was simply nostalgia, or desperation. or maybe, just maybe...there was something exhilarating about this whole endeavor. it was like being suspended over an abyss and having the audacity to attempt a backflip.]

Mm, but where would we find one this late?

[the thoughtful question comes as he moves to carefully light up their other pieces of paper, allowing their unsettling glow to take the lighter's place in sprawling across their faces. his face is so innocent in this moment that it would be easy to forget the conversation he's currently participating in.]

[As the papers' edges charred and turned to ash, burning away little by little, Kit continued to focus on what it was they wanted and who they were asking to provide for them, but he didn't feel any differently. There was no indication that he and Vincent were any more or less protected than before, no way to confirm if attempting to cross the same lines would be permitted or if they would experience the same violent backlash.

He wasn't sure what he expected. For all that he believed in demons, ghosts, and other nonhuman entities, he was quite skeptical with regards to magic. It seemed that if bad things were going to happen, then they were going to happen regardless of the measures of protection someone tried to assemble around them. You could not reroute the storm, but you could weather it.]

A good question.

[Kit frowned at the ofuda. There was only one of it and two of them. Unless they stuck by one another, whatever "protection" it did offer would only benefit the one in possession of the talisman.

As the last of the paper finished burning, Kit's gaze settled on Vincent. He'd decided that, in the event they parted ways, he would leave the ofuda with his companion. But he would not tell him this lest the act be mistaken for pity.]

It's time to test it out. Unless you have any objections, I'll go first.

[while Kit's thoughts were full of the philosophical nature of misfortune and the supernatural, Vincent's were preoccupied with memories. inhaling the familiar smell of smoke and ash, he can't help but think of New Years past and the ceremonial burning of the darumas. he'd looked forward to it every year as a child, watching the dolls piled in gigantic red piles to return back to the heavens. they'd watched over them all those months, and now their shift was over.

would this little ofuda do the same diligent work as the talismans and charms of his past? as his eyes refocus back to the present and onto Kit, he can't be truly certain of the answer. but he's willing to believe, so long as it was a private faith.]

It's your turn anyway. There's no getting out of it.

[he'd taken the brunt of the last attempt, after all. it was only fair for Kit to take those precarious first steps this time around.]

[His turn, was it? Even after the episode that had reduced him to a figure folded against Vincent for support? Well, Kit wasn't about to argue. He'd intended to be the 'human sacrifice' all along.

With a nod and a smile that suggested he would be quite alright come what may, he sat up a little straighter and looked down into the wisps of smoke still trailing up in silvery tendrils from the ashes of the paper. Whether or not he believed it would work, he needed to feed this moment with positive energy. He took a breath and, emptying himself of partial opinions, he began to speak...]

I have reason to suspect—

[...and that was as far as he'd gotten before the pain returned, and with it the monstrous presence of an oblivion just waiting to seize them both. It was as if the very thing had taken hold of his heart this time, and he felt it jump painfully within his chest, such that the whites of his eyes bulged and his mouth worked silently for a moment.

Was this it? Was this how he'd die?

How miserable. He had so much more fight in him than this. Had survived much worse than some invisible ailment and...biting down sharply on the inside of his cheek, he snapped himself out of his shock so that he could continue.]

—this thing...! [Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.] It may be after our souls!

[In his vision it had been a human who had claimed one, but that was no memory of Kit's, no experience he'd ever lived through. That it felt so real could only mean that it was a warning of some kind. Being reckless would cost them the most valuable thing to anything living: its essence.]

[his eyes jump away from Kit to the empty room as he speaks, seeking out some sign of their stalker in the unchanged landscape. in the moment he couldn't say if it was trust or apathy that kept him from watching his companion's struggles more intently, although he knows which answer he'd choose if questioned on it.

had it really changed nothing? all that effort, the concentration of their spirits, had it really made as much of an impact as the tendrils of smoke still curling around them? Vincent had at least anticipated a more violent assault in anger at their attempts to thwart this thing, but even that seemed to have failed.]

Such that they are.

[his voice is distracted, irritation and anger high in his tone even as he continues to scour their surroundings. demons and apparitions would at least manifest in the stories, to gloat if nothing else. as he glances back at Kit briefly and catches sight of the blood running from his mouth, he feels his own blood begin to boil again.]

If that's what it wants, it's going to need more than a few measly headaches to take them!

[he's not even holding onto the ofuda as he raises his voice to challenge the void. their little talisman is temporarily forgotten in his rising urge to fight this goddamn thing once and for all. a hand braces against the floor in anticipation for the oncoming price of his words, but he has no intention of bowing or taking them back.

if it bothered this presence so much, let it come.]

[The fool, taunting their enemy like it would solve anything!]

Wait—!!

[There was a name on the tip of Kit's tongue, but try as he might to remember what it was, it would not come. He didn't know this boy, had never learned his name, but it felt like he knew what fate would befall him if he didn't intervene here and now.

As Vincent moved, so did Kit. One hand slammed down between them into the still hot pile of paper ashes, and the other shot out to cover Vincent's mouth. The pain had been much more severe this time, whether or not it had shown. If they kept going, it wouldn't be unreasonable to assume that one of these times the otherness would win. It might even kill them. They needed to step back and assess the situation again. They needed to learn from the mistakes they'd made!]

Sheer force won't work here. We can only win if we play by the rules.

[Vincent has more than a few choices words for his companion as well, but they're muffled into nothing more than an indignant noise thanks to the target's quick actions. he jerks back violently, reaching up with the hand not bracing himself to try and pry this makeshift gag off of him.

play by the rules. as if any of the established 'rules' had done something for them! there was no point in abiding by guidelines put in place solely to tie their hands. if they wanted to succeed, to survive, they had to -

"Fuck the rules."

a medical tent surrounded by a barrier of supernatural origin. a woman covered in chains, smiling with the placid contentment of someone who knows that she cannot be beaten. a fight raging just beyond their reach, vital and going poorly. and his arm, aflame in pain, but slowly regaining its power...

the grip on Kit's arm shifts in nature as Vincent's eyes unfocus due to the sheer the magnitude of pain circulating his body. if he wasn't braced properly already the force of the vision might have knocked him clear off his feet.]

[His head felt like it was caught in a vice grip, his cheek like it had been split wide open with a razor. The hand he'd thrown down to support his weight blistered and burned, and the arm that Vincent had captured seemed to pulse beneath the other teen's grip when it shifted in nature. He was not in a good state. Nevertheless, he didn't shake off his companion.

Something had taken hold of the other boy. Kit recognized that vacant-eyed look of alarm and pain. He knew what came with it, the unwelcome parade of visions and feelings, none of which belonged to them, but all of which seemed to belong to someone with their face. It was as awful as it was exhilarating.

But without a way to tell who was responsible, or what, Kit maintained their only chance was to play by the unspoken rules in place. By doing so, they could isolate loopholes and effectively outsmart their quarry and prevail. It was the only way.

The hand upon Vincent's mouth moved to his shoulder, and with his burned hand moving toward the opposite, he was better able to support his companion from taking any unplanned dives toward the scene of their little ritual.]

Take a deep breath.

[Cool your head.]

[it was like someone had shoved a rod straight through his forehead and was taking great delight in twisting it about as much as they possibly could. the seething pain, now almost familiar, was accompanied by a new hurt this time; his right arm felt like it was flame. if he had a little more awareness about him, he might even think to wonder if it hadn't slipped into the ashes along with Kit's.]

'll kill them all...

[the murmur is from someone other than himself, from some place far from the Leviathan Aquarium. Vincent is barely aware he's speaking at all, still struggling to come down from the rush of stimuli that had assaulted him so brutally. his body felt as if that fight on the stairs had lasted an eternity.

despite the half-formed threats of total destruction, he complies with the other boy's command for once. breathe in, breathe out. focus on that, not the anger in his heart or the storm in his mind. just breathe. just be.

slowly, the hand on Kit's begins to slacken.]

[Those words weren't unlike anything Vincent had said before, but he seemed so far removed from himself that another thought occurred to Kit.

Perhaps their souls weren't the sought after prize so much as their bodies? By prying the essence out of the host, a perfect container would be left behind. A vessel for...the people in those visions, maybe. Or some other sort of demonic force or spiritual being.

Recklessly taunting the power behind these attacks only opened them up to further assault. Perhaps even prepared them for possession.

It was a chilling thing to consider, but it was also that thought that returned some of Kit's own nerve to him. Despite his exhaustion, he remained steadfast. Despite the agonizing state of his body, he remained strong. It was one thing to fight a man head on, nobly and with everything you had, but another to cowardly suck out the very marrow of his being and transform him into something he was not before he even had a fighting chance. Such a thing was unforgivable.]

No one is going to die today.

[When he was certain Vincent could sit on his own again, Kit swiftly pulled away and began to tidy up their mess. The pen and ofuda were tucked neatly into the notebook and thrust against Vincent's chest to give him something else to think about, and the ashes on the floor were swept into a pile and then scooped into his hands. Against the open blisters of his palm it stung, but Kit rose to his feet and carried the little pile to the trash to dispose of it anyway. Any remaining traces left on the floor when he returned were smeared away with the sole of his shoe. It was almost like they'd never been here. Apart from the faint smell of charred paper in the air.

Now that he thought about it, they'd been fortunate in that the smoke hadn't set off any alarms...]

I'm going to find the bathroom. I'll be back.

[it's the sudden reappearance of his notebook rather than Kit's words that shake him out of the last dregs of his reverie. he clasps it instinctively, like a treasure or a weapon, and immediately begins attempting to get to his feet as his companion makes quick work of their failed experiment.

it's a poor idea and dizziness strikes him almost as soon as he begins moving, but he remains undaunted. now that he's back to clarity what galls him most is the overt show of vulnerability he'd just put on for his unwilling audience. he needs to pull himself together - and he absolutely needs to be standing for whatever comes next.

he's on his feet by the time Kit returns, albeit with a faintly unsteady air. everything hurts, his head in particular, but he does his best to appear disaffected.]

Fine.

[he'd still be here, the unspoken acknowledgement. no matter how body he became, there was absolutely no way Vincent was backing down from this fight.]

[Although he didn't require Vincent's permission, Kit waited for his acknowledgment before he left. In a way, that solitary word was the only confirmation that he could hope for of his companion's well-being, especially if he wished to spare the other boy's pride.

Choosing to avoid the stairwell, Kit started toward the other set of doors in the lobby and the hallway beyond. The bathroom wasn't difficult to find or very far away, but neither was he in any kind of rush to quickly utilize the facilities and return.

Instead, as soon as the door was closed behind him and he was certain he was alone, Kit proceeded toward the counter and removed his jacket and shirt along the way. In the mirror he was able to see clearly the bruises and welts that had risen up across his skin from his earlier altercation with Vincent. Patches of blue and purple spotted his shoulder blades and his ribs, but with some relief, he noted the lump on the back of his head had gone down in size. Still, there was the matter of his cheek, which he could see now had bled more than he'd realized, and his hand which seemed to hurt with an invigorated pain the moment he turned on the warm water and held it near.

It would be several more minutes before he joined Vincent back in the lobby, but by then he seemed refreshed, all traces of dust removed from his clothes and skin, and even his hair tidied and tied back into a more manageable ponytail. His hand, too, had been bound by what appeared to be a hastily washed and dried scrap of cloth. Possibly something from Kit's own shirt, judging by its color, though from where it was difficult to say. With his jacket in place over top, nothing appeared to have been cut.

But, sure enough, something had been. Or he wouldn't have had the spare scrap in hand to offer Vincent when he returned.

So much for sparing his pride...]

For your hand.

[It had been impossible not to notice the dried blood on his jacket where Vincent had grabbed him. He wasn't sure when, but at some point he must have injured his hand and, like the blood on his face, simply never taken care of it.]

[all the better that Kit takes his time; it gives Vincent more time of his own to recover in his own way. as soon as the other boy is out the door he's scrubbing tiredly at his face, ignoring the flakes of dried blood that catch beneath his nails as he does so. although his body screams for it, he refrains from returning to the bench even without watchful eyes. he still had something to prove here.

he does make the compromise of settling painfully against the nearby wall, a foot propped against it to further brace himself. it offered him a good view of both doorways, as well as a quiet perch with which to try and settle his mind. he was always quick to rile, but even he could acknowledge that right now a cool head was more important.

his fingers wander, digging through his jacket pockets once more for something to swap out his notebook for. they find it easily enough, and the trade is enacted - half a pack of cigarettes for the safety of his music. it's forbidden to smoke indoors, but Vincent honestly can't bring himself to care. he desperately needs the nicotine boost right now, and the aquarium smoke alarms have already proven themselves to be a bit lax. it was fine.

when Kit returns he'll find that his companion seems to also be rejuvenated despite having done nothing to improve his appearance. the cigarette dangles idly from his lips as he looks up at the sound of the other teen's return, casting a skeptical gaze across his new hairstyle. if the situation were a bit less chaotic there would undoubtedly have been a snide comment about that. as it is, he keeps it to himself.]

There's nothing wrong with my hand.

[his defensive tone is briefly colored with genuine bafflement as it takes Vincent several moments to recall what he might be talking about. ah, that was right. he'd broken the skin pretty deeply clenching his fist on the stairwell.

so he'd noticed even that, had he? it seemed that critical mind of his wasn't entirely posture.]

If you say so.

[The point was hardly one worth arguing. Instead, Kit folded up the small piece of cloth, cut free from one of his shirt sleeves, like the one wrapped around his own hand, and tossed it toward Vincent. He could use it if he wished, or throw it into the trash if that suited his preference instead. What mattered was that the courtesy had been extended. It was the least he could do since, he was sure, the wound on Vincent's hand had been incurred only after he had pointed out the other boy's piercing hanging off the back of his clothing.

Let it not be said he didn't repay his debts. Never mind that they'd been fighting at the time.

Settling next to Vincent against the wall, Kit gestured towards the cigarette in the other boy's hand. Not in a judgmental way, however. There was no disgust, no curling of his lip or turning up of his nose. But rather...the gently waving hand, as if asking for a stick of his own.

If his theory about possession was right, then perhaps what Vincent had said earlier also held true. Probably even more effective like that, considering what's in them. It was worth a shot. And, if nothing else, perhaps it would serve to at least take the edge off. He felt refreshed and looked better now, but there was still a knot in his shoulders that wouldn't go away.]

[he catches it reflexively, stowing it away in his jacket pocket. there's really no point in hanging onto it if he doesn't intend to use it as a bandage, but his hands have already moved on instinct before he can contemplate the error of their ways. a memento of their meeting, he supposed.

he watches Kit's gaze idly as he comes to rest next to him and inspects his cigarette. the lack of judgement isn't surprising, given his past, although he can't help letting out a small smoky puff of laughter when he realizes the only thing that gesture can mean.

he may be more put together, but it seems that Kit's nerves have been just as frayed.

rather than pull out another stick, Vincent removes the already lit one from his mouth and passes it over. it's quicker for the other teen this way, and given how little time has passed between his lighting up and the arrival of his companion it's barely any less burn time. as soon as the cigarette's taken from his hand he's moving to light up a new one for himself, remarking as he goes -]

Only the first one's on the house.

[Accepting the lit cigarette from the other boy, Kit stole a long and grateful drag from the filtered end. His anxiety didn't begin to ebb right away, but the promise of that bittersweet relief was enough. He inhaled deeply, held the ashen flavor of the cigarette in the back of his throat where at first it tingled and then it burned, and then he released his breath and sighed. A thick cloud of smoke spilled neatly into the air before him, a silver tsunami that danced violently before his eyes until he fanned it away with his free hand.

With the gesture, Kit's head swam momentarily, but it was a strangely pleasant sensation following all the ways he had been assaulted that night. To feel, even briefly, numb and far away from all that pain...it was something he could only be thankful for.

He could think of only one way to show his gratitude right that moment and, pulling the cigarette from in between his lips...

...Kit held it out between them so that the other boy could light his own.]

That won't be a problem.

[He would never make a habit of smoking, preferring to maintain peak mental and physical health. But for now...well, it was an acceptable distraction. Clearly one they both needed, which led him to believe that, if only for a little while, they might also be better off taking a break from occult discussions. It would be a shame to disturb the blanket of placidity that had fallen into place.]

So, how is it you came to attend the overnight stay here at the Habitat?

[Vincent makes a soft noise that might be construed as thankfulness on another planet, using the proffered cigarette to light up the new one. he takes a deep drag before answering, the embers from the other end glowing ethereally in the dim light of the lobby.

it's a terrible habit, to be sure. but it was hardly his worst vice.

he's hardly a person to whom peace with others comes easily, but the hardships of the night have been brutal enough to prompt even him into laying them aside for the moment. whatever was stalking them didn't seem to have any intentions of relenting. they had plenty of time.]

I won a voucher at a coffee shop. [he shrugs lopsidedly, mostly to preserve his careful arrangement of bruises] It's stupid to waste free things.

[The faint glow provided by the vending machines and dim perimeter lighting was welcome. Where they stood, with neither one looking directly at the other, backs to the wall, and the only two entrances and exits to the lobby in perfect view before them, they didn't have to worry if their composure was lacking. And even if they did happen to look at one another, the shadows were likely to hide their faces well.

Kit could scarcely muster the hardened and guarded look of earlier. Something about being around Vincent felt comfortable, even natural, and with that feeling came a more honest countenance. A heavy stare that rested upon the bench where they'd sat, then traveled back in the direction of the stairwell as if retracing their footsteps. So much of the day had seemed to whip on by, happening so quickly he didn't have much time to process anything. But here he was now, everything all caught up...and he didn't really know where to go next.

Taking another long drag from his cigarette, he thought about how he'd come to be here himself.

Two people, a man and a woman, had thought the excursion would be a good experience for him. An educational event such as this would likely be teeming with friendly faces from school. He would learn a lot, and more importantly, he would enjoy himself. What would they think if they knew the truth? He would never tell them, of course. They might not be his real family, but they were decent people and they tried hard. He didn't want them to worry. Not about him.]

I see. [There was a small sound, something like amusement, but the emotion didn't quite reach his face.] That's why you accepted my invitation?

[With a flick, blazing embers drifted from the end if his cigarette to the cement tiled floor.]

...or was it because I freely offered up my name?

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