Night 67: M01-M10 Hallway

[ofthemotions]

Well, that... Wasn't creepy at all. Really. Mikado looked up at the intercom suspiciously, but it was more from a concern about sanity rather than safety. It didn't change anything, however. If there was some kind of infection going around, enough so that they would immunize (or fake immunize) people for it, it'd be something to gain information on. At least, that's what Mikado thought. The medical wing was on the other side of the building, by the stairs, and he thought to go there.

Never mind that Mikado had no ability at all to understand things like medical charts or that sort of thing. He was hoping mainly that there would be some kind of easily read notes there... But since when did doctors have easily read notes, or easily read anything... Ugh, there wasn't really any point to going there, was there?

He had no other ideas at the time being, though, so he finished dressing into his own clothes, and shouldered his bag across his chest. At least he'd have a direction to go.

[to here]

Comments

M1

[purgatio]

[from here]

There was a moment, there in the hall, that Albedo thought to turn around. Thought to not even attempt this, not even try-- Wasn't he the one to claim the villain role? Hadn't he decided to embrace that but a moment prior? It might be seen that he still was, but only for other creatures. Humans, by any other name, and worthless-- Unworthy of any regard.

He had meant it for his brothers, and he had done it but for days, and here, now, perhaps-- Not antagonistic, but separate all the same-- Wouldn't it be better to break and kill those parts of him? Become what he had been becoming and little more. Evolve past the constraints placed on him.

He had been about to open the door, his hand still on the knob. But suddenly, he couldn't open it. The message sent from his brain to his hand wasn't processing, and he simply remained there. After a moment, he rested his head against the door and closed his eyes.

M1

[atrabilis]

It was the first he'd noticed the new presence in the room, the tenth he worried for his dwindling perception. At least Nigredo could be grateful for the shift in fortune, or so the child assumed. Confirmation would not come until he could interact with the other boy face-to-face, of course, but he seemed all but homicidal. And even Sync, with his practiced manipulations, had his early warning signs.

Sadly, the thought came a beat late, days too early for true consumption. Nigredo was far too cold to harbor care, and he sat against the door as dinner passed and night began, covered head-to-toe with fabric. Regardless of the number of sweaters, the coat sleeves hanging off his hands, nothing would bring his temperature up; everything existed as a winter's night.

When a presence slid into the fringe, when a violet aura crept to the back of his mind, he stopped shaking long enough to give notice. {Albedo?}

[purgatio]

Give his brother the perfect prize; he was yet still observant, yet still acknowledging Albedo's presence. He felt sick, body in disarray and waveform erratic, and he still could not simply be. There was a hole in his head, a spear through his side, and never had he thought it before. Albedo hated martyrs. And here he was, playing the role of one with no thought otherwise. Ruining himself for his brother's sake without a moment's pause.

It was stabilizing enough, that thought, but in a different direction. In a way he hadn't acknowledged for days now, hadn't looked to at all. There was a thrumming beneath his skin, and Albedo gave himself to it gladly.

For his brother who called out, he would notice violet giving way to magenta, more and more. As for words or sendings, Albedo still gave none. Still remained where he was, and fortified.

[atrabilis]

Magenta swallowed violet, like a moth to the flame, and Nigredo thought it best to greet his sibling in person than in waveform. He rose from the floor, knees knocking once in the effort, before opening the door. Albedo seemed as anticipated, felt less than predicted, and the part of Nigredo who could not stand suffering nearly held the elder right there.

The rest took Albedo's hand into his own icy digits, the motion both fluid and speaking of alertness. "Hey... You okay?" asked Nigredo.

[purgatio]

"Not so much," he answered instantly, too quickly, and he gave an edged smile, then remembered to swallow it. "I think it's only--if and always-- That this place is getting to me. Finally."

There was another smile here, and it was held. No desperation present, but a simple and utter confession. Albedo was allowing weakness to be shared, and more-- He was explaining the straightforward fact that he was weakening from this as well.