towerofanimus | Glamour Failure

[His senses fail him. Or is it the other way round.
Kariya. No, the shape moving towards him is familiar in some ways, but its movement is alien to him.

How can it be his Master? But he has no Master. For he is not a Servant any longer.

He slumps against the wall, watching the figure approach through the nest of wires fallen about his face.
A Blue-white light comes from it. As the sun is seen from underwater.

He does not answer to his own name, but repeats the name the figure speaks.]

Kariya...

Because I'm trying to figure out which festering shithole is the bigger joke, and I'm talking to the obvious expert here.

[He holds out his hands, both of which are still carrying weapons.]

So which is it?

Yeah, it's me. [And that humor can only be made by-] Nice to see a friendly face, John. Well, glow.

[Slow clap for the comedy only not really.]

A bit of the same, I've been looking for my team so we can regroup. They... never were very good at keeping their heads when separated.

[He rubs the back of his glowing neck, secretly amused. What will they ever do with them...]

How're you holding up?

[Because let's face it; he's part of an extended team now, too.]

[The mere presence of someone else was enough to get Morty to stop screaming, just because oh god, he didn't want anyone else seeing him like this. But it's pretty clear that he was the only one around who could have been screaming, and Morty could only hope that the person who'd heard him wasn't someone he knew...]

[...whoops. It was John.]

[ ... ]

[Suddenly very ashamed of himself, Morty straightened his spine again and looked away.]

[The scream is terrifying. Something even a knight like Diarmuid will never get used to hearing. It is even more so considering he recognizes the voice. As he grows closer, he can hear her words and they tear at his soul painfully. To see her reduced to this is so terrible he can hardly stand it. Especially since he is so used to her being so strong.

Especially since he is partially responsible for all of this if the cause is what he thinks it is.

Once he reaches her, Diarmuid wraps his arms around her, not even stopping to think she might react badly. Hopefully, his words will be enough so she will realize who he is and not be frightened.

If she is far enough gone that she doesn't recognize his name or his voice, he might have a problem.]

It's Diarmuid, Mami. Go on and let it out. Scream if you need to. Keeping it in won't help any.

[Not really, but... he knows that frame well by now. They were identical in size and build, after all. The collar color was similar, too. However, there was one thing visibly different not including the voice troubles. The hair-film.

Darn brat still needs to get attacked by a comb, dangit.]

Hello, Asch.

[At least he doesn't seem to be flipping a lid...currently.]

[At that, Jasmine sighed and shook her head. While her first reaction had been to get Morty to calm down, even she knew that screaming was a normal reaction to this.]

No..it wasn't. It's okay..I was..just spooked.

Well, so had Yotsuba, but..even she wasn't going to rule it out as they were now. However, at the hug and the spinning, Yotsuba couldn't help but laugh a little.

"That's great! You missed him, and he missed you, so that's good!"

Hmmm. [John strokes his chin, seeming to really consider the question though he actually isn't thinking about it that hard. It's actually pretty facetious on his part because he already knows the answer.] See, there's just one problem with that question Karkat.

It implies that both options are funny at least to a mild degree. And they aren't. But as far as festering shitholes go, I would say that this one is the more putrid pile of excrement. I don't know how it all went down in your parallel universe, but my SBURB at least had some redeeming qualities.

The only thing this place has going for it is the fact that there are some pretty cool people from other worlds here. But to be honest, these are quite possibly the shittiest possible circumstances to meet somebody under.

[No, he isn't Berserker. He can't be Berserker, like this, but it's hard not to think of him that way--at least until he slumps over, and then Kariya thinks he just looks sad, and lost.

He comes to stand beside him.]

That's right.

It's me. Your-- [Not his Master. There's nothing binding them now, but at the same time, there's nothing separating them into different roles. Whatever they are--these things that are their true forms--they're the same.] Your friend.

It's coming out...

[Despite being sedated and collected by the nerf chip now clearly visible in his forehead, Gamzee was still a little out of it from both the recent glamour meltdown, and from meeting what he thought was the ghost (ressurrection? clone?) of his (former?) moirail. Gamzee was referring to said chip, in a somewhat shameful tone. It might not have even been what Karkat was referring to with that statement, but it's what Gamzee immediately assumed. If this was a moirail ghost, it would know everything, and it would prod at the most important parts.]

[The tightening of Karkat's grip in his hand was the catalyst for a tightening in Gamzee's nonexistent jaw. Why the fuck was he wasting time diddling around in this hallway like a fucking grub!? He needed to hurry. He was anxious, though some of it was abating because of this encounter, much to his great dismay. He wasn't sedated enough to be incapable of letting out a sharp growl.]

Don't motherfuckin' discount in me so much fucking easily, brother. At least I all got you up standin' on your shaky-ass feet. And don't go bein' gravity's bitch on a motherfucker no more!

[He tugged at Karkat's hand a little, urging him forward.]

Come on, we gotta move.

"Oh! What kind? The type that can make cake dis..disappear?!"

[Kariya sighs.]

I must not have learned my lesson yet, because I think you should have run away. A little girl shouldn't have to live in pain.

[It doesn't matter if it's God or Zouken who's responsible. Of course, he doesn't believe in God, but this isn't the time to bring that up, if he ever does.]

I did run away. I ran away from everything. Until the War. I guess I was a coward.

Everything does get more complicated, when you're older. I never would have dreamed of the things that would happen, when I was young.

[They'd all been awful things. Maybe he shouldn't have run away, or maybe he should have run farther. No--it was right to come back and help Sakura. He can't stop believing that.]

[Tear blinked a bit, trying to figure that out.] You... you're happy that you're now like the rest of the residents of the tower? Is that what you're talking about?

[The sight of England's frame moving around when he talks nearly scares France to death. The voice is there, the tone is there, but the body is like something out of a Hollywood sci-fi movie. It's artificial and downright absurd, and were France not so sure who he was talking to, he'd swear up and down that this... thing was not England. But there's his soul, glowing plain as day, and France can't bring himself to doubt the validity of it.

He winces when England's grip tightens over his wrist (no, not his wrist, something else's wrist that he's just using for a while), but he doesn't back off. If anything, he tightens his own, almost out of instinct, always trying to one-up England even in times like these.]

Fils de pute, do they think I am cheap?

[He's in no mood for trying to put up an air of physical superiority when he's just a 3D model, but the words come out before he can stop himself. He's already broken down too much. He won't let himself fall any farther in front of England.

Against his will, though, his chest rises and falls with the quickness of a man who's just flown down two flights of stairs, dodging screaming, sobbing people in almost every color of the rainbow as he went.]

This is impossible. Improbable. I can't- [He draws in a breath, puffing out his chest to make himself look bigger than he feels.] I do not know how I can believe this.

[Just words, of course. There's no more room for plausible deniability here.]

[Hey, he tried once. Doesn't feel like trying again at the moment, and who can blame him.

Asch can't flip his lid. The lip he might flip over this is long since gone. It's back on Auldrant somewhere, probably in Daath's barracks.]

Hell of a job we did.

You will! I like stories! And Yotsbua likes to read books about animals! Daddy got them for me back when Earth wasn't destroyed! And you're right. We won't!

[As Yotsuba spoke, she happily followed Kariya down the hall, one hand holding his, the other holding her 'teddy bear'.]

H-Huh...?

[She didn't quite-- get it at first. Do anything? But she couldn't really do anything anymore, what with... the system failure, however that worked. Had they ever actually done anything?]

Y-You mean all that bullshit they've done? It's not..real?

"Stop it. You are better than that!" The words are orders. There is no mistaking that or the stiffness in Diarmuid's posture even with his new odd body. He's not sure why he feels the need to say those words exactly or why he delivers them in a way that makes them almost like a verbal slap, but he does.

It's just another one of those odd feelings from deep inside of that part of him that is still true, and he is listening to it. There is precious little else to use in the way of guidance in this place now.

Which also means that he will follow the urge to make the verbal slap a physical one if the person does not follow the order he has given.

[When Arthur does find him, Lancelot has fallen to his knees. His hands hanging at his sides, his head hanging down as the nest of wires that was his hair hides his face-- he looks a man awaiting his own execution.

The senses he has belong to the man he once was, not the Servant he is no longer, and he cannot Feel Arthur's approach-- but he does hear approaching steps. If he but could, he would disappear-- for he feels already insubstantial enough, a broken man once more.

His voice when he speaks sounds hollow to his ears. The distant croaking of carrion crows.

Leave me.

I won't, I promise.

[Not that he needed to. He wouldn't have dreamed of letting her go, especially not now after everything that had happened. Ion squeezes her hand in return, and finds his balance as the two of them head toward the stairs.

The strangest thing happens, then. Well, Ion supposed it was something that had already happened but was only just starting to notice: he wasn't tired anymore. It was as if his physical limitations had melted away with every other part of him.

In a way, it almost hurt more. He should have been happy to finally be able to walk easily and lightly on his feet. To not feel as if he'll collapse at any given moment. To feel perfectly clear-headed and strong. But it was just another piece of his identity that had been stripped from him.

Ion is silent as they make descend the stairs, passing the rest of the dorm levels. ]

[While wandering the tower, searching for his friends, he's seen so many people - wired shapes of those he's seen around the tower, static silhouettes of who they'd always been - either panicking or crumbling. There is little he can do but try and offer something stable to those who'd listen as he passes by.

But this time he stops, because those 'horns' and fin-like film and color...]

Are you alright?

[The blue-colored figure bends down, film shaped like a bus stop sign and a sword lightly brushing against the floor.]

That's what it looks like. They played us all for suckers. [Just like the game. Just like their whole lives had been laid out by some unseen all knowing asshole.]

Even if they have some measure of control. It's just.

[Nothing matters anymore.] Bullshit.

[damnit Dave you were a Lalonde you were supposed to have at least some kind of answer even if it wasn't a particularly good one.]

I wanna go home.

[That, and it would call to attention that he had a different name at one point. It was best to not dig holes for questions about his past to go if he could help it.]

I am sorry. I have not seen them, but if you wish, I will help you find them.

Glamour Failure

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B]

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Except, of course, for the other poor soul who gets thrown into the worm pit.

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Warning for possible violence? Suzaku might be getting slapped if he doesn't settle!

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do we ever have regrets

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