prismatica | text; un: adversary

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text; un: adversary

Oh. Hey there.

[ the voice that drifts through the communicators defies description. it is venus's voice, and it is not; like a young tenor, barrel-aged since the beginning of time and only just coming into its own. it sounds like fresh hookah and tastes like music. it's like static and honey, gently sifting out of electronic speakers. ]

This place... [ a sigh. ] It's beautiful, isn't it? A thousand thousands, living their own truths. It's flawed, and uncut, and cracked down the edges. It's the most beautiful, wonderful gem I've seen.

[ for a few seconds, the recording stays silent. all that remains is the background noise of lunatia: voices trickling up from the streets. the whirr of machinery and the hum of crystals. ]

There are hundreds of you, and I know so few. [ there's something ancient in her words. deep, old, sad. ] So while there's still time... Tell me. Remind me of your name. Let me see your face so I never forget it again.

[ an exhale, long and smooth. ]

And if you're hurting, or lonely, or you've forgotten too... Find me. I'm waiting. I'll always wait for you.

[ there's a soft laugh, barely audible - a fond exhalation more than anything voiced. ]

Until then, my darling.

[ the recording clicks off. ]

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[The voice isn't one Akira recognises, but he's intrigued. Whoever it belongs to can't possibly be human, he thinks.]

Are you lonely?

[ a name she doesn't know. a voice she hasn't heard. she wants to hear more - his name, his hopes, his fears. but more than that, she wants... ]

Of course. How could I not be?

[ she's not one to hide from those who seek her. so she reaches forward, and she flicks the video feed on, and just like that any doubt is gone. six feathered wings spread from her back, a hundred eyes watching from within the feathers. her skin is luminescent, white radiating off every exposed inch of her body. she is, in every sense of the word, radiant.

she reaches out, gently drawing her finger across the communicator's screen. ]

Are you, too?

[She's beautiful. That's his initial thought as the feed turns on, and for a moment he wonders if an angel (or something very much like one) should really be talking to someone like him.

But she's asking him a question, so he'll stop gawking long enough to answer.]

...Yeah, maybe. [He can't lie, not to an apparently celestial being. With so many eyes she'd see right through it anyway, he supposes.] There are people I miss.

[ if she notices his stare, she doesn't call him out on it. she just nods, a soft frown marring her face. ]

I understand, [ she says, and her voice is soft as silk. ] And... do you want to return to them? Would you bring them here, if you could?

[He takes a second to mull that question over. He doesn't have an easy answer to it.]

It's dangerous at home... but then, it's dangerous here, too. Maybe they'd be safer here, but I don't know for sure.

We never can.

[ simple, blunt, and true. ]

Oh, darling... How I wish I could offer that to you. You wouldn't have to be lonely. The ones you miss would be safe. But the stories I tell are impossible, and I have so little time left here. How can I offer you a world of dreams when the one around us is so very real?

[ there is a kindness in her voice, tempered by a deep, ancient sadness. there is a pity as old as the universe, a sympathy for ones who are nothing like her and yet could have been her all the same. ]

All I can offer are my ears, to listen. My eyes, to see and acknowledge you. And my arms and wings, to hold you and shield you for as long as I draw breath. I am here for you, if you need me.

[Her words are very kind, perhaps more than he deserves. But as he listens he can think of only one pressing question:]

Who are you?

I am the devil.

[ it's the simplest truth of the matter. there is no way around it. ]

I had other names, once. So, so long ago. Venus, and Satan, and Nachash. And I do miss hearing them... but you can call me whatever you like.

[The devil... Satan...

Akira's expression becomes more guarded, though he won't jump to conclusions right away. Her words had been kind, and seemed sincere, too.]

What do you want? [It's a broad question that could be answered any number of ways, but the vagueness is part of the point.]

I want the same thing you do. [ she doesn't know this boy yet. perhaps she never will. and yet... she feels as though she can say that much. ] There are so many people, so many, weighed down by that world that hates them. I want to lift their burden, with what little power I have. I want to hold them to my chest and whisper to them, "I am here, I have always been here. You have never been alone. You were never made wrong."

[ her voice wavers and threatens to crack, a single imperfection marring its pristine wave. her gaze drops down, hair moving to cover her eyes. ]

I want to see their faces. The ones I have always known, the ones I have waited for since before their birth... I want to know they are safe. I want to see their smiles.

[Akira says nothing in response. Instead, his bottom lip trembles, and tears begin to slide down his cheeks. Not for himself or anything he feels, though -- but for her, and those she cares so deeply about.]

[ maybe if she weren't in this body, in this world, she would be fine. she knows these feelings. she feels them every day, every hour, every second of static behind the radio's waves. but she is real now, real and tangible and grounded by gravity in a way she hasn't been since she was venus. like this, every action, every movement carries a terrible and immense weight behind it.

even so, it is not her own sorrows that break her. it is when she sees akira crying - not for himself, but for her, for the shadow cast by god's light upon mankind and all the castaways hiding within it - that something snaps within her. the unsteadiness in her voice takes form upon her cheek; one tear broaches the dam, and as she reaches up to touch its path another falls on the other side.

these are tears. she is crying. how long has it been? decades? millennia? eons?

she is rendered speechless. and so all she does is weep with akira, choking in ragged breaths and letting her shoulders shake with each sob. ]

[He has no idea what she's been through to make her feel that way, not really. Stories are one thing, but whether this angelic figure calling herself Satan -- Venus? or another name entirely? -- can vouch for any truth to them is unclear. And right now, it doesn't really matter to him either.

He's crying too much to speak, so the camera tips away from him briefly to show the wall of an apartment as he quickly types a message:]

where are you?

[She shouldn't have to be alone.]

[ it's been so long since she cried - truly cried, even, with heaving shoulders and her breath catching in her throat. even if she wanted to speak right now, she couldn't. she would simply lose the words.

so instead, she responds with a single line of text: the address to a lunatian apartment. and, after a moment, she shuts off the feed entirely. ]

[Akira can't just leave someone crying alone, no matter how seemingly ancient and wise they are. So, after figuring out the apartment's location, he takes a "shortcut" there.

...Which is right around the time a teenager with huge, leathery bat wings will arrive outside the window of her apartment, banging on the glass twice to be let in.]

[ the tears are beginning to slow by the time akira lands at her window. it's strange. as long as it has been for her, she still knows this place. she still knows that the people here straddle the line between human and devil and animal freely and without concern. and yet, there still is a jolt of surprise when she finally realizes that, yes, this is the boy from earlier.

of course he wouldn't be human. of course he'd defy god's perfect image. how else could he understand?

he doesn't have to wait long. she unlocks the window with a single motion, gently pulling up until the way is clear for akira. there is a pause, a silent hesitation - and then she offers a hand in invitation. ]

[Akira's shirtless-- he still hasn't found clothes here that can work around a body that can grow wings at will-- and as he climbs through the open window and takes her hand, the wings fold against his back. There's still the drying remnants of tears on his face, though he's less concerned with that and more with the person (deity, supernatural being, whatever) that he's come to help.

Without warning, he simply takes a step toward her and pulls her into a hug.]

... It'll be okay.

[ the mere touch of akira's hand to hers is already weighty beyond comprehension. the sudden feeling of arms around her, threading between her wings and holding her close... it's unimaginable. touch brings chroma, and chroma brings warmth, and warmth brings feelings of its own. stability. safety. reassurance.

it'll be okay.

slowly, she brings her hands up, her own arms draping over his as she pulls him closer to her chest. her breathing is ragged; her shoulders still shake with the weight of holding back each sob. but with each passing second, her composure returns, and it isn't long before she is able to form her own words for him. ]

Oh, darling... [ even now, her voice is unsteady. she breathes in; she breathes out. ] I should have been the one to console you. And here you are, worrying for me. Caring for me.

[ she is used to acceptance. she isn't used to... well. this. ]

[She's tall, and he wonders a little too late whether he should have transformed all the way to be able to match her height. But this feels nice all the same, holding her, one hand rubbing the bare skin of her back to soothe her.]

You needed it. [A lot more than he does, he's sure, especially given how quickly she broke down when he cried. When was the last time someone had done something like this for her?]

I did.

[ she offers no rebuttal. what would the point be? he's right. here, like this, embodied and physical as she is... she needs contact as much as anyone else might. more, perhaps.

there is the beginning of a feeling, starting within her chest and spiraling through every vein and artery within her. it isn't the heat of moonlacing, or the strangely acute awareness that comes with a sudden influx of chroma. it's... stability, maybe. like she is being drawn to reality from the very center of her being.

a single feather falls from one of her wings, and she finally understands. ]

...such kindness for the devil. [ her own hand reaches up, mirroring akira's in its motions - fingertips gently tracing circles on his back. ] And I don't even know your name.

[ she shouldn't be here. her time is limited, more than ever. but... that's fine, too. as long as this world has people like him in it. ]

[Akira looks up at her. Her radiance is almost blinding, this close, but it only serves to make her more beautiful, too. He didn't introduce himself before, come to think of it, considering how quickly she'd moved him to tears, did he?]

It's Akira. Akira Fudo.

I'm not a devil... I'm a Devilman. My body is a demon's, but my heart is human. [Maybe she could already tell that part for herself, but not every world has Devilmen as a concept, so he figures he should explain.]

Akira Fudo... Devilman.

[ she says it almost reverently. she lets the words hang in the air; she wants to emblazon them into her mind, remember his face and wings and heat for as many eons as it takes.

she almost doesn't ask - after all, who would know his own heart better than akira? - but she feels like she has to: ]

...is it really? [ she is the devil, after all. and the humans she has known are among the first to throw that sympathy away. still, if he wishes to call himself human, then human he is. she smiles and shakes her head, the blinding light washing out the tears on her cheeks. ] You'd cry for someone you barely knew. Devil or not, you are someone dear to me.

[ another feather falls. she doesn't bother to acknowledge it. she just stays there, in his arms. after another pause, another feather slowly drifting to the ground, she quietly speaks. ]

Akira, can I ask something of you?

[He's surprised but also strangely happy, that she's another person who finds comfort in how easily moved he is, rather than teasing him for it or finding him strange.

Still embracing her, Akira watches another stray feather drift down, and he wonders if he should be concerne. But she speaks up without acknowledging it, so his gaze moves back up to her.]

Sure. What is it?

Will you stay with me?

[ the wings at her shoulders reach forward, gentle and curious. they hover, as if they intend to hug akira closer - but they don't quite close the distance. she needs permission, to reach out and touch. of course she does. why else would the devil always resort to temptation in tales? ]

It's been so long since I have held another. So, so long since I've been gathered someone into my arms. And I have such little time left here. [ the devil is lonely. humans kicked out the devil, and she misses them. she keeps begging to be let back, to see their faces again. and now, here is someone to listen. ] Will you hold me, just for a little while longer?

[Akira nods, giving his permission, and holding her a little tighter. Even as he does so he can feel his eyes welling up once again. How lonely must she have been, to be so desperate for affection from a stranger?

He swallows, trying not to cry this time as he asks:]

Why are you running out of time? Are you going somewhere?

video; un: runner_boy

video; un: adversary, I'M SHITTING I DIDN'T REALIZE WE GOT AN AKIRA DFSDFJ

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