⬣//ILLNESS BEYOND CONTAINMENT, DEATH WITHOUT LIMIT

[cccorp]

>>My Mouth // >>Comes and Takes // >>Your Tongue // >>Tempting // >>For Repentance

⬣//FOR MY MOUTH WILL SPEAK TRUTH

You wake to the sound of silence— no early morning birdsong, no rustling leaves, not even the sound of your own breathing reaches your ears. For a single moment, you feel as if time has frozen, your mind held in stasis, until a familiar boyish lilt hits your ears. A beat later and he's standing before you, a smile stretching from cheek to cheek, but that smile doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Good morning, sleepyhead! I was wondering when you'd wake up. Are you well? Does anything hurt?

Mm, not that it makes much difference to me. If you're in pain, know that it's only temporary. If you're unhappy, you won't stay that way forever. This world is a world of miracles, one where everything that hurts you can be forgotten and destroyed!

Ah, but some of you don't believe me when I say that. Some of you still think the world that's hurt you oh so much is better than one where you can make all that pain go away. Don't you want to be happy? Why are humans so addicted to their own suffering?

I think it's time to find out!"

The boy vanishes before you can get a word in edgewise. Try to reach out and touch him and your hand will pass straight through. You now have, at least, a solid idea of what Lily looks like. It's only a shame that there is little you can do to stop him.

⬣//THE SWORD COMES AND TAKES HIM AWAY

On the same day Lily made his presence known to all of Fragment, another equally sweet young boy has mysteriously vanished.

In the monster-laden streets of Mac Anu, shreds of bloodied white fabric can be found scattered about. A single golden horn can be found in the canal, roughly shorn and badly scuffed.

It's unclear who or what injured Zelkova, but no matter where you search or how hard you try to find him, no further clues will turn up.

When attempting to message Zelkova, who appears online as he always does, you'll always receive the same response—

"Hi! I'm Zelkova!"

⬣//WICKED WORDS ON THE TIP OF YOUR TONGUE

In the wake of Zelkova's absence is a feeling of unease. You may feel anxious, scared, perhaps even angry over the perpetual downturn of events. In fact, you'll find that it's gotten very difficult to manage your own emotions.

Throughout the next two weeks, you'll steadily get more and more emotional. Small inconveniences will throw you into a rage. Stubbing your toe will make you lapse into hysterics. A smile from a friend may fill your heart with longing and your loins with lust.

No matter how you might try to quell the tempest of emotion inside of you, nothing seems to work. Every feeling is magnified, every feeling is intense, and all you can do is allow yourself to be taken by emotion.

It's a shame Zelkova isn't here to assure you that everything will be fine, just fine. Fine, fine, fine…

⬣//GRACEFUL TEMPTING FALLEN ANGEL

You may hear stirrings amongst the NPCs in various Root Towns that something unusual is occurring at Twilight Shoreline. Some claim that the sky itself has been ripped and torn while others make mention of an unusual figure lingering in the waves.

It may be tempting to gate in and investigate these unusual rumors yourself, but be warned: you may not leave in the same condition you arrived.

⬣//LAST CALL FOR REPENTANCE

Do you remember what it was like to be a real human being? To have a life, a purpose, a meaning outside of the digital world? That must be nice. Memories are such lovely, precious things.

Unfortunately, what little remains to you will be taken away with the loss of your third and final core memory. Several other memories from your time in the outside world will disappear as the days roll by, slowly but surely erasing who you were and making room for who you have become: a swordsman, an adventurer, a catgirl, a being who has never known anything beyond the boundaries of Fragment.

Still, some pieces of your old identity remain, desperately clinging onto your old concept of self. Those with the drive to escape Fragment and return to the real world will still feel that flame burning deep within even if they no longer remember what sparked it. Not all hope is lost, but the worst has yet to come.

A foul wind blows, billowing through Root Towns and Recreational Areas alike. On the wind, you hear the whispers of forgotten memories, both your own and those of the people trapped with you. Though you may no longer recognize those memories as your own or those of your friends, you can't help but feel as if some part of you has been clawed out and torn to shreds. It's a sad, lonely, isolating feeling, b̵͓̘͎͍̅̄͛́ú̷̹͕̒̀͝t̴̟̥̮͖̗̆̃̾͋̋̎̄̉͐̋͆̇̕͘ ̴̢̥̬̼͚̰̬̰͍̥͉̝̦͕̥̰̎̈́̃̅͆̉̈́̀̏̏̇̀͜í̵̧̧̥͓͇̠̗̤̺̖̼̬̪́̓̐̽̿̽͗͜t̴̨̲͎̼̦̱̪̬̭͖̓̾̈̄̈́̒̎͆̇̕͠ ̸̢̣̰͈̝͈̫̦͉͕̋͂̐͗̓̽́̈͛̃͑̓̚͜͝ẁ̷̙͛̍̑̈́̅͂͊̓̽̈̌̋͘͝ó̷̢̮̟͙̹̤̭̬̬̰͓̣͑͆̂̈́̎͂̒̌̊̽͘̚̚͜͠͠ņ̵̢̛̦̖̆͆͂̽̑̊'̷̢̮̫͚̜̭̰̙̭͚͓̭͙̺͑͜ţ̸̛̛̘͚̘̯̲̖̰̝̖͙̥͊̉̑̄̽̀̆̎̈́̅͘͜͝ ̶̩́̈̈́̌͑̿̆̾̈́͊̀̈́͘̚͝͝l̴̲͕̩̊́a̶̫̪̽̒̌̀̑̍̿̕s̶̱͉̩̣̒͆̽͗̽̊͂̚̕͠͝t̸̢̧̨̹̬̹͈̣̮͈̣͚̰̳̲̤͌͗̊͗̎͂̎͗̏̆̀̀͑̽̑̿͠ ̴̩̺͕̳̝̘̳̣͎͚̰̇̈́̈́͑͐̈̈̏̀͂̈́̍̽̑ͅf̷̛̙̖̲́͒͐̏̒̿̆͆̑̎͐̄̉o̷̱̭̙͗̌͆͗́̆̌́͗̚͘ȓ̷̡̢̦̠̖̟̻̬͚͈͔̥͓̟̤̋̿̃̎̌͗̂̽̐͛͆͠e̵̼̻͓̺̖͓̞̘̤͎̤͓͚͔͚͔̓̈́͘v̵̡̖̳̗̼͉̻͓̗̠̝̭͍̆͒ͅê̷̱̄̀ͅr̴̤̠̜̞͉̘̙̠̙̩̣̫̮̘͖͉̿͋̈͊̓̓͜.̷͓̯̒͐̏̋̓͗̄̉̓̎̒̾̚͝͝ͅ ̸͖̘̞̼͓͚̝̘̙͓͔̱̗͍̏̑̐̔̋̉͂̈̿̆͂̋̋̈S̵̢̫̭̠̩̻̩̈́̔̅̾͛͛̌̃̑͐̈̕͝o̵̡͖̙̘̟͕̗̲̒͋̇̿̔̍͒̈́̏͑͆̉̀͒́̕̕ö̸̜́̽̈́̀̆̐̂̉̔́̅̔̆ň̵̛̥͍̘͕̫̝͔̼̮̝̤̎̀̉̔̍̊͜,̸̨̛͇͙̺̱͎͙͖͎́̈̈̀̂͜͝ ̵̩̯̯̟̂̒͊̌̆̆y̵̢̜̘̘͗͂̎̓͒̿͑̇̆̉̋͘͠͠o̷̢̨̜̹̣̗̤͍͇̅́ŭ̷̞̇̈̑̂͊͂̓͋̅̌͐͘'̴̡̨̡̰̘̠͉͈̥̓͜l̴̡̡̰̖͙͕̹̹̝̖͉̓̿l̸̢̧̞̜̻̝͈̙̫̈́̒̈́̐̀̄̿̈́̀̄̚͘͘̕͜ ̵̛̗̗̙̩̙̝̩̟͎̗͉̠̉̋̒́̐̐̀̄̃̐́̎͒̕͝b̵̨̡̢͖̺̼͔͓̬̟̭͕̈̈̓̒̓͌ȩ̷̥̟̳̲̝̩̝̱͎̲͆̔̕͜͠ ̷̧͈̠͈͓͉̭͔̪͕͖̫͇̼̩͓̣̔̆̈́̋̓́̂̉̔̎͂̒̈́͂͂̈́̚ḥ̷̛͍͇͈̼̺̣̦͕̪̹̘̝̅̂̌͗̾̋͌̈́̾̂͠͝͝a̶̢̛̝͔͚̠̻̗̞̿̊̆͒̐̅̉͗͒̉͘̕͠ͅp̵̓̍̾̓͊̌̑̈͋̾͒͜͝p̶̳͎͙̹̎͆̿͠ͅy̸̨̧̡̩͚̯̪͕̽̓̅̀̇̕͜.̷͍͙̹̓͛͐̀͐́͝ ̷̺̼͖̔͐̏̈̾̈́̆̿̅͝͠͠Y̷̢̛͗̀͛o̵̢͖͖͈̙͒̄̆̉̀̆͌̉͜u̵̫̩͓͖̲̝͔̲̎̏̐̈̓̚͘'̵̡̨̻͍̲͚͔̤̼̬̪̠́͌́́̒̕͠l̷̫͔̜̍͆̍͋̔͆͒̾̑͑̐͒̈l̴̡̩̳̟̩͕̗̠͗̓̆̚͝ ̶̯͈͕̜̤̗͚̙̗̝͒̃̎́̒̂̔͑́͊̈́̓͒͌̅͝k̶͕̬̳̰̝̮͈͉̰͊́̃͘͜ṋ̵̎̃͛̾̃͐̂̔̿̔͐̓̍ő̴̫͔̐̂͑͛͋̈́̂̈́̈̚ẅ̵̛̮̪̝̖̰͖́̃̇̃̇̅̓̇̕̚͠ ̴̢̫͕̻̜͇̝̺̣̟̥̥͉̖̗̱̙̇͑͆̿̓͑̕ņ̷̨̢̩̳̱̝̩͖̼̰̩͙̫͆̄͐ơ̶̢̧̢̡̰̜̰̞̭͓̹͔̲̱̄͋̄͐̆̏́͗̏̀͂̓͗͋͊͘ ̷̘͈̰͖̰͂͛͌̑̿̀͗͑́̽̊͂̒̚͝ͅp̸̯̤̀̄̀a̵͇̖̖̹͗͑̈͐̉̽͂̚͝ḭ̴̫̫͚̻̥̮̲̫͈̹̮̞̲̘̩̪̄͐͐̄̈́̒͌̇̇̽̓̆͗̒͝n̷͓̥̬̠͔̗̯̬͈̪̞̪̗̘̩̲̭͗̏.̷͙̹̥̗̼̉̽̆̈́͘̕͠͝ ̸̞͔̱͙̑̄̈́̂̔̎̃̓̐̚H̷̨̲̗̲͙̗̱̠̗̹͔̥̦̋͒̈́̆͑̚͜á̵̧̛̛̟͎͈̲̼̣̊̆̇̐͆̌͒̀̚͠ͅp̶͎̠̫͖̗͋͑̏͑͛̈́̏͋̈̇͘p̸͈̟̦̠̮͚̫̥̅̍̐̏͆̂̀̒̇̂́͌̐́̕i̵̡̡̘͔͍̭̱̜̯̞͎̬͈̗̎̀̈͒̆̀̓̈͜͝n̵̜̑̃̔͠e̴̡̢̦̩͙͚̦̥͎̩̰̓̈́̿̎̔͌s̸̥͓̱̗͙̥̺͖̥͉̱̹̟̀́̀̆̑͂̌͜ͅś̵͚̮̝̤̭̘͎͔̝͔̤͙̤̮͓̘̒͋̂͗̍̓̔ ̵̦͖̩̠͉̹̘͎̮͓͙̙̣̜̘͋͊̏͊̋̊̈̓́͆̌̚͝c̷̨͕͕͕̖͉̹͔͎̦̠̱̍ǎ̷̫̬̪̘̠͔͍͍̹̞͉̈́̃̓̊͆͘͠ń̸̢͆͒̀̀͂̊̆̚̕̕ ̶̙̺͇̬̼̪̩̮͗͌̍̈̀̀͝b̸̡̺̞̳̗̳̙̗̯̠̦̼̻̭̑͗̋̔͒̀̾̅̄̊̾̾͘e̴̢̢̘̜̟̯͎̜̭̞̼͚̟̾́̓͊̊̃̄͌̃̓͆̽̕ͅ ̵͔̝̖̖͚̓͂f̷̡̛̝̳͎̼̼̱̪͈͙̣͖͙̘̞̺̮̉͑͘͝͝ő̷̧̹̦͓̰̦̯̝̣̱̲̠̩̟̺́̋̅́͒̈̏͘͝u̸͍͍͇̟̲̟̟̺̓̌̍͑͒͌́̌̽̐͊̚̚͝n̴͓̺͕̜͚̲͍͍̰̙̖̘̪͓̙̘͇̍͑͛͊͂̄̾̿̍͋͊̂̈́̕͝d̴̺̟̞̙͍͓̪͈͋̓̇͌̚͜ͅ ̵̛̮̯̪̤̫͖̠͔̫̥̬̰͈͍͚̇̀͗̐͗̈̚͝͝͝ę̶̡̦̜͙͔̜̩̽̇̀v̵̢̡̗̥̬͉͍̱̲̻̘̝̮́̅̍̈́͑̌̏̚̕ͅͅͅë̶̝̳̤́͋̈͗͋̍̊̽͋̕͝n̵̪͓̠͖̫̫̩̻͚͍̬̤͆͗͊̉̾̌͐̾͑̑̍̈́̕ͅ ̷̙͍͓̂̔̓̃̄̚͝i̵̧̨̮͕̱͓͕̦͇̲̹̋̐̈́̆͜ͅn̷̝͈͇̹͚̝̏̄ ̴͇̪̬̈́̏͗̃̄͌̐̊͝ͅd̵͔̖̠͈̮̃̍͗̀̋͛͗̈́̏͂̇̇̕ę̴̪̟̰͍̱̘͇̼̻̤͎̇͊̐ą̷̧̪̭̖̣̖͎̪͌̒̐̄̑͊̐͑̕t̵̡̧̡̯̬̗̞̰̪͇͉͎͍̝̰̄̓͌̈́͆̿̔͐̇̈́h̷̥̖͔̆͑͊͛͂͠.̵̛̹̃̒́̋̾̒̔̓̒͛͆̓̃̕͠

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[gluttoning]

[The figure that prowls the streets the evening of Mithrun's disappearance looks different. Perhaps close to a player, the same height, the same hair color, the same general structure. But his horns now wrap into his face like teeth near the jaw, wings far firmer and elongated in their sections. Though his footsteps can be heard like any normal boot, looking at them makes them seem too firm, too unmovable, just like his horns. His eyes are dark, his complexion paler, skin going ashen towards his fingers as he grips his lance in his prowling. Every budge of his expression cracks, crumbles, a dry and spidering texture against the skin at its most movable points, as though he's being encased in something else entirely. Every design of metal against his chest, every brightly colored warning mark on his wings -- they all seem to stare if one looks too hard. But blink, and it will stop, like the illusion of a moth to scare a predator.

He doesn't seem to mind. He doesn't seem to be in pain.

But he does seem angry as hell.]

VINDICATION)))
[Throughout the streets of Mac Anu he prowls like an animal. While he focuses mainly on the swarms and swarms of enemies that still pour into the cities as the days go by, he doesn't seem to discriminate. A moving target is a moving target.

If rounding a corner and startling the Lord Partizan, one might find that he instantly grows aggressive, weapon drawn and stance pushing forward to initiate combat (better think of some way to ease the tension, quick!)

Alternatively, one might find him among the stronger of the monsters, reaching his hand out with a flash of blue and green to shatter the shields in as aggressive a manner as possible, not minding any damage he takes in the process. If another character is nearby, he'll regard them only for a moment, looking more irritated than relived, spitting blood onto the ground as he wipes at his mouth and repivots his combat stance.]

Are you just gonna stare? Get out of the way if you're not going to fight.

INDULGENCE)))

[Though he can no longer be found at the guild he just called home last week, the local redhead can be reasonably found in two separate places: the bowling alley and the mall. He's not enjoying the recreation, nor is he there to socialize.

He is there to eat.

The quantities are almost ridiculous, and once he's finished, people can observe him getting up and going straight for more, as though he's become bottomless. He hasn't. The astutely observant will notice how unbelievably sick he looks, how hard it is to keep getting up and coming back as time passes. But he doesn't seem too determined to slow, as though it's a last ditch effort to satiate himself.

Approaching him while at his table will lead to his wings instantly lifting and spreading, eyes glaring like a starving dog over a corpse of bones. But for those that don't want to go straight into an argument, he might be slightly more approachable when caught on his feet, in line for yet another pizza or jumbo order of soft pretzels and soda pop.]

REFLECTION)))
[The canals are quieter now. Emptier.

He's not sure why.

At least once every day this week, he can be found right where he'd been the week prior - seated at the edge of one of the Mac Anu canals, feet swung over the side, lance laid across his lap, staring out into the water. In his hand is one of the Tiger Lilies that now dot the city in less and less frequencies. He looks unsure what to do with it, staring down at it, held like a fragile, fragile thing - looking out to the water as though he means to toss it, but unable to commit.

He stays frozen like that for a long time, head drooped, shoulders slumped, anger watered down to something else entirely.

Sorrow.

Whispers echo. Laughter and firm words and tears shed. Many voices loved. Many unfamiliar. Some of fellow players. The happy laughter of a little girl. The sounds of her crying in pain. One voice that speaks with harshness. Over and over.

"Will you ever realize that it was all YOUR fault, Barrett?"

"We'll be together forever. Right, Barrett?"

"....Barrett... I like the way my name sounds on your lips."

"BB!"

"Bear-kun?"

...

It all is hollow.]

WILDCARD)))
[Check his toplevel for more areas that ?????? can be found. If you want to avoid a physical altercation, just let me know upfront either in your meta, in your subject line or a message to me somewhere and we'll work around it! He's a little bit hairtrigger right now but we can always just keep it to him bein Bitchy.]

Indulgence

[justonezero]

[He can get roughed up a bit if that's where things lead just try to avoid full breaks or death if that's ok!

He's similarly heading to grab pizza when he spots Misteaks and... ah. Hm.]

Misteaks?

roger roger, don't worry we will keep bunbun in one piece

[gluttoning]

[He doesn't respond to the name, looking impatient at the counter as an enormous order is slowly piled up in front of him.

A glance to the side, and his eyes narrow.]

It's not for you. What do you want?

[justonezero]

It's okay, I can wait until your order's done. I was just going to get some pizza for myself.

[Folding his hands behind him as he waits.]

[gluttoning]

Mn.

[Someone patient and understanding? Wow. He can't learn much from this one.

...Not without some work, anyway.]

And if I take everything they have?

[justonezero]

I'll just get something else.

[Simple as that.]

[gluttoning]

Hm.

[He piles the plates in his arms.]

Something like you will be useless to me.

Reflection

[threatmewted]

[Hhhholy shit, Barrett...

There's whispers around her, too. A kindly voice discussing a tarot spread and what it means for her past, present, and future. A voice that can be found here even - discussing some online game, not Fragment, but one of the past.

She moves to sit next to him. Gives him space, but still There.]

...Barrett?

[gluttoning]

[He doesn't respond to the name. But the multiple pairs of eye-like patterns on his wings seem to stare towards her at the sudden break in quiet. Good thing it's an illusion.

A beat, and his own face turns, slow, solid, fine cracks that ripple against the sides of his skin. Eyes that are far, far too dark.]

Swallow.

[Mm. He returns his gaze to the flower in his hands.]

What are you doing here?

[threatmewted]

[...?]

Checking in on a friend, obviously. You don't look so hot.

[gluttoning]

Mn. Your friend is lucky.

[There's something slightly sullen to the statement, detached. Because of course he can't be the friend she mentions. That isn't for him anymore.]

Realizing some things. It's... hard. There are feelings that... I don't know if I know how to feel.

I want to be angry. But I don't know what to do when the anger is at myself.

[threatmewted]

...What are you talking about? You're my friend.

[Even looking like... all this.]

...Why are you angry with yourself?

[gluttoning]

[He has to think about it for a moment. Are they friends? He doesn't remember with clarity any more, but... he supposes he doesn't fill with the same sort of irritation when he glances at Swallow. He feels he's been angered at her in different ways than some of the others.]

I got angry with you. A different me. Are you sure you're friends?

[As far as the question to him... he goes quiet a bit longer, posture tensing.]

...I got a gift. A special one.

I broke her.

...

I wonder how humans deal with this. When you get hungry for vengeance. But your target is yourself.

I wonder what you'd do.

reflection

[tinged]

[ a person watches him from above, sat at the edge of a very familiar bridge - well, perhaps not familiar to him anymore? what a shame then.

unlike the last time they were here, they aren't full of nothing. they're just... cold. settled at the heart of a storm and accepting of it.

they, too, hear the whispers on the wind. when they aren't watching him, they're speaking to the voices. calm, low murmurs that don't catch on anything at all. words for them and lily alone. should he meet their gaze, they will stare back, lips curved and eyes like steel. hello, there, stranger.

(what they carry for bear, they've locked away safe in their heart. always safe.) ]

[gluttoning]

[While the redhead's attention stays fully drawn to the flower in his lap, it doesn't mean Hani goes unwatched. The new patterns against the Lord Partizan's wings seem to shift, the dark red centers of illusionary pupils seeming to drift with a hungry intent. Seeing. Watching back, like a vulture.

Or perhaps it was an illusion after all, as they're back to normal after only a few moments.

But the young man does seem to turn his attention slowly. Looking over. Looking up. Black eyes narrowing carefully, but not cautiously. Recognition, if only slight.]

Tabibito. [His voice is like gravel.] I have an answer to one of your questions. Only one.

[He doesn't know if this is enough to stir their anger. But they were an odd one. An anomaly to be watched.]

[tinged]

[ tabibito - one who travels, nameless. touched by wanderlust. so then - it should be easy to leave, yet they stay and watch him. it should be easy to go, yet… they hold out their hand, empty and waiting for his answer. ]

[gluttoning]

[It's as good an answer as any.]

I know your Spider Lily will have his paradise. Not without pain. But when everything's been reborn, it will be somewhere worth living.

[A beat, another, and his expression tightens with an almost sullen undertone to his words.]

He will always be the favorite. Lily won't abandon him.

[tinged]

And he won’t abandon Lily.

[ their expression softens, full blue and dark purple. affection for spider lily.

(but does spider lily want to be reborn? that’s not a question he can answer for them, so they don’t ask.) ]

…And the names?

[gluttoning]

...I ruined my chance to ask. So he did not get to hear.

[There's something final about the statement, very delicately apologetic in its far reaches, as though he does not expect to be able to ask the question ever again.]

I don't think he would have told me. It's not my purpose anymore.

vindication

[secondthoughts]

[ It was only a matter of time before this happened.

For one, Hector has been actively keeping an eye out for Misteaks since his encounter with Mithrun. Things make sense now—the anger, the aggression, things make him so unlike himself. Not the kid he knows, at least. But he knows how defensive of Lily he's been. That he named her after—someone important to him. Someone that's no longer with him. The details are fuzzy, but that hardly matters at this point. The effects are much more important. The harm. Everything else.

And, there's that Hector's been doing a lot to help clear the streets of monsters, usually by himself. His joints ache, he feels like he's coming down with something, but he keeps pressing onward despite that. There aren't many who can data drain the most dangerous ones, and so he has to do his part.

So it's really no surprise when Hector rounds the corner and sees Misteaks fending off a horde of monsters, much in the same way he would be. Except his eyes are not on the monsters—they rest squarely on Misteaks, and he whips his beautiful silver staff to the side, dog tags at the very end clinking quietly. ]

Misteaks! [ He calls, loud over the sounds of battle. That isn't his name but he can't remember what it's supposed to be— ] We need to talk!

[gluttoning]

[There's no response to the given name - only a slight glance, an acknowledgment of irritating noise admist the chaos. His nostrils flare as he tosses an enemy over his shoulder, pinning it to the ground and skewering it, before using its body in a full swing like a clubbed head of its own to knock two more back, letting the corpse go flying with them.]

Are you trying to irritate me, Hector??

[It's spat out between breaths. Had anyone else attempted it as a distraction? Maybe he could spare it. An SP item is produced, knocked back, and then the empty bottle thrown at the face of another monster right behind a brutal punch to its jaw.]

[secondthoughts]

[ Hector doesn't stop in his march towards Misteaks. God, what happened to him? Is he already changing? ...Changed?

He sees that SP potion, and who cares if it fills up his bar most of the way. Hector casts LaRig Gaem anyway, letting it continually tick up for a while after he goes back to using skills. ]

No, I'm here to talk! [ In battle? Yeah. Sitting down at the table didn't seem to help, so maybe with their weapons out, this'll go better. ]

You saw what happened to Mithrun, didn't you?!

[gluttoning]

[Ah. SP regen. Good. He doesn't have to hold back now.

Heavenly Rage immediately triggers with an AOE volley of earth damage to several enemies at once, damage counters going wild in the process.]

Why would I? I don't know who that is.

[secondthoughts]

[ Jesus christ.

Hector's a little shocked at the sheer carnage at first, but it doesn't scare him. He comes to stand in Misteaks's circle. Misteaks himself doesn't scare him, either. ]

Little guy? Weird eye? You were carrying him around last time I saw you two!

[ A monster escapes the fray and comes barreling towards Hector; he meets it with his staff and sends it flying back. ]

Aren't you friends?!

[gluttoning]

[...]

You mean Macha.

[Did he give Hector that same love schpiel? Tch. His irritation climbs, not bothering to wait for the mess of scattered monsters to right themselves before he plows right in, Thorns Dance piercing one against a building wall.]

Drop it. Macha and I are strangers. I've never met him before. We only work together now because of our purpose.