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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[ 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?

Darling... Thank you. Thank you for everything.

[ the wings finally close in around akira - the top pair first, then the bottom following suit. they're warm. they're soft. they're a hug from something beyond existence. the eyes beneath the feathers squint and shut as they get close to akira, careful to avoid any potential harm. beneath the shield of the devil's wings, one hand reaches up, gently stroking akira's hair. ]

Time means so little in this world. More than ever, now. You've seen it, haven't you? Some lose years, and others find them, but eventually all return to the way they were. As they must. As they should.

[ her voice is a whisper. this close, what was almost static begins to take form. there is a song there, beneath her words, older and more beautiful than anything she could give words to. and yet each word takes another feather from her, a fee plucked from the songbird's wings. ]

I am no different. Soon, I will be gone, and who I was will be all that remains.

[ the hand at his hair doesn't hesitate or pause, though. she seems... at peace with the idea, almost. ]

[The wings enclosing him, the hand stroking his hair, it's all so soothing that he wishes he could stay like this. But the feathers falling around them like petals, her own words, it all suggests that it's an impossibility.

He reaches up to touch her cheek.]

It's okay. Even if you're a little different, you'll still be you. No matter what.

[ he really is extraordinary. she smiles, fond and loving, and presses her cheek into his outstretched hand. ]

And you will, too.

[ the song beneath her words is growing louder - a symphony straining to be heard above each breath, above the background radiation of life on lunatia. encased in wings and eyes as he is, maybe akira will even hear it in the silence. who knows?

she stays there, perfectly content to let time pass once more. the feathers keep molting, falling by the fistful, and the light of her skin grows more and more intense. like she could burn out at any moment. like the last breaths of a dying star. ]

[Akira closes his eyes, listening. He's curious about the song, but asking about it would be the same as interrupting it. So he stays like this, a Devilman and a devil who appears as an angel holding one another, almost as though in a lover's embrace.

He simply wants to tell her: Whoever you are, you're fine as you are. I accept you.]

[ the words may not be spoken, but they reach her nonetheless.

when it comes, mere minutes later, there is no grand cataclysm to mark her passing. one moment, she is beside him, her wings holding him close as she memorizes every angle of the kind devilman; the next, the pressure eases up, and she is gone. the light that was once so bright fades, dimmer and dimmer until her glow is only faintly visible above the daylight outside. a thousand feathers fall at once, tumbling to the ground in messy piles. and just like that, all that's left is a nude, sleeping teenager with two wings and a hundred closed eyes, an awkward hatchling where something grand once stood.

her legs buckle. she sways, unsteady in her balance. it's only instinct that keeps her upright: the two wings, still reaching out to akira, hold onto his shoulders and prop her up by some miracle. ]

[Akira wishes he could beg her not to leave, but she's already accepted that this is something that cannot be changed. He supposes he must accept it, too. The thick, choked feeling in his throat and the tears threaten anew, yet soon give way to surprise when he sees someone close to his own age, a teenager, taking her place.

Asleep.

He keeps his grip on her so that she doesn't fall, and scoops up under her legs to carry her in his arms. Which is also when he realises he simply showed up at a stranger's apartment, unannounced. He moves through the rooms to find her bedroom, and lays her down to rest there, pulling the sheets over her to keep her warm.]

[ she makes no sound or protest as he tucks her in. her wings hold onto his shoulders for a moment longer once he's set her down, but only a moment; soon enough she curls into herself, wings wrapping around her like a feathery cocoon. her breathing is steady; her lips drift apart as she sinks into the mattress.

time passes. more than she knows; less than it might have been. and nearly three hours after everything, when dusk has finally hit the city, she finally wakes up.

it starts with one eye, on the back of a wing - cracking open, squinting, unfocused. then another. then a third, one facing directly towards akira, and suddenly the whole wing seems awake - dozens of tired eyes, swiveling in feathered sockets to look at the newcomer sitting by her bed. slowly, venus pushes herself upright, her hair falling over one eye and the sheets falling to her waist. she doesn't seem particularly concerned about the lack of clothes. ]

...mmh. Hey. [ her voice is still gentle - but so much younger, so much less steady and certain. she doesn't sound like someone who's watched millennia pass anymore, just a college kid with a hangover and a knack for apologizing too often. ] Sorry, I don't- really remember much of last night? But, I mean. You don't... have to sleep on a chair. Unless you really want to, I guess.

[ she doesn't really remember much of anything, honestly. for all she knows, it's been a week since anything's happened around here. but she can't shake the vague familiarity she feels when she looks at him, or the small smile that comes to her face when she tries to remember why. ]

[Akira's own wings have long since vanished from his back having served their purpose, and he curled up in a chair, intending to watch over her until she came to. The last thing he remembers is watching the beginnings of the sunset from the window, and he was beginning to doze off when he hears a voice from the bed.

He blinks, startled back awake, and looks over.]

Huh? There wasn't... I'm not... [Oh. He realises how this must look, and a faint tinge creeps into his cheeks.] Nothing happened last night. Uh-- how are you feeling?

Oh.

[ "nothing happened." that's... not the usual explanation for this kind of thing. she just sort of stares for a moment at akira, not quite comprehending what he's getting at, until- ]

Oh! [ she doesn't panic, exactly. but she does flush bright pink as she desperately grabs for the fallen sheet, one wing swooping down to give her some semblance of decency until she's got the cloth ready. ] Oh, jeez. Sorry, I- wow, okay. Um. Great! I'm doing great!

[ she looks like she's about to die of embarrassment. then again, that might just be normal for her. ]

[Akira just gives a sheepish but fond smile, rubbing the back of his neck and looking pointedly away while she regains her modesty. The older version of herself is certainly different from her now in many ways, it seems.]

Sorry for intruding. I guess you don't remember, but I came over because you were in trouble... I stayed to make sure you were okay.

[And since she seems fine, he gets to his feet as if to leave. He doesn't want to freak her out any more than he already has.]

[ it's less about modesty and more about first impressions. she doesn't have much shame left to her, but she does have enough sense to know that akira probably thinks she's a skank, insane, or both. ]

In trouble...? I. Guess I don't really remember. Um. Sorry.

[ the eyes on her face don't quite meet his, but there's plenty of other ones to keep him company - eyes gazing directly into his, eyes sweeping away, some eyes even squeezing shut in a mixture of embarrassment and exhaustion. still, when he stands up, all of their gazes snap to him at once. ]

Akira, wait-

[ one hand reaches out, as if to stop him, or to just grab hold of his shirt. but it stops after only a moment, falling back to her side. she tries to smile, and even if it's still awkward and faltering it's definitely a real smile. ]

Uh. I know this is probably really awkward? And, I mean. If you want to leave I definitely understand. [ a small, nervous laugh as she scratches the back of her head.. it's the kind of laugh you get when you've been bullied all your life and need to tell the teacher everything's fine. ] But- you seem really nice? And, I mean, I sort of owe you. So, I mean, I thought we could just... get to know each other, maybe?

[ her own use of his name completely flies over her head. she's not self-aware enough to catch that sort of thing. ]

Probably. After I put some clothes on.

[ also she's sort of got other pressing matters on her mind right now. ]

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