deercountry | july catch-all (open + closed prompts in comments)

[ the anticipation is probably what weighs in the most. all she needs now is a green light, and that's all on falco. he closes his eyes and settles in the middle of the circle, taking a deep, calming breath in. his heart still batters, but he quells the nervousness that would be there either way. suddenly, his mouth feels dry. he trusts her. she's just going to talk. she's got this— ]

—Ready.

[ it feels like he's about to tip off the first hill on a rollercoaster, just hanging there at the apex after the nerve-wracking climb. ]

[ Ange is fairly calm in comparison. She's not too worried about actually talking to the entity, after all. Even if it seemed unsettling the previous time they spoke, she can handle unsettling.

All she has to do is shove down the worry about Falco for now. She's just going to keep him safe here. She will keep him safe, she tells herself, letting fake confidence seal the worry away so she can instead focus on her task.

For a moment she closes her eyes, focusing her magic as she touches the circle on the ground again. Sending it flowing through the drawn blood, lighting the circle up more as it gains more power.

Falco may feel a mental jolt, like a car stopping very suddenly, and then the force of the magic basically kicks the entity within him, forcing it to the front of Falco's mind, and pushing Falco himself back in there, being thrown to the mental backseat. As for his physical body - it seems to be frozen to the spot he sat down on, unable to move without experiencing great difficulty doing so.

Ange opens her eyes to see if it worked, but doesn't say anything yet, waiting to see any reaction first. Just to determine whether it's still Falco, or if she really did manage to get back in touch with the being inside him. ]

[ falco is snapped away from his mental seating, tossed into a pit in a matter of seconds. he breathed in, and then fell. he’d keep falling, endlessly and sluggishly as he could only peer so far up at the little window of consciousness beyond his reach. it was blurry, the sound is null. he’s deaf, he tastes blood in his mouth, and inhales what felt like puffs of sulfur.

it vaguely burns, but it feels at home for the silence. the boy’s body slides limp where it is, like a ragdoll’s strings had been cleanly snipped— and immediately replaced. first came the pop of his shoulder back, then the other. the lolled neck snaps to the side, the upright. from his eyes came tears, until they were too thick, black and viscous to be tears at all. they slip from the nose, probe the mouth and spill through lips and teeth, until it becomes a fluidly dribbling mass that doesn’t cease to drip.

it has yet to say something, but its presence is grim. its aura is contained, but its image—

ange won’t know what she’s looking at. every blink, every exhale and every angle brings a different look. tentacles. hands. oozing rot. too many eyes (a single eye). you are safe (you are in danger—). warmth that coaxes in and a crippling fear that wished for one’s vision to bleed. which was it?

it was all of these things. ]

[ Some things are incredibly familiar. She's been around Paimon a lot, after all, and a lot around Peter as well, giving her an even better idea of just what can make a demon a demon out there in other worlds than her own. She's seen the way Paimon tends to move Peter's body so awkwardly, in a way that seems inhuman, just like when Falco's body seems to snap back to life here.

.. the ooze though. The ooze is very new in comparison, and also very gross. And something about this presence also feels more weirdly overwhelming than Paimon - though she figures she could chalk that up to the fact that the demon is friendly towards her, or maybe Peter is a muting factor in the entire thing.

There's no time to question it though. Just looking at the being feels like an influx of overwhelming shifting images, and it's only through Ange's firm mental core that she manages to not flinch in the face of it, keeping her pokerface on. Just thinking about some dumb deadpan thing in her head like 'wow, could've warned me to bring a towel.' Just breathing steadily. She's a witch. She's got coping methods.

It's just another entity. Facing them is natural to her now, she tells herself. ]

You.

[ .. maybe not the most respectful way of refering to someone. But Ange still isn't fully sure what to call this thing, and then there's also the fact she's trying to at least somewhat establish dominance here, even in the face of whatever the hell it is that she's looking at.

Maybe because of what she's looking at. Most of these entities don't even bother listening to you otherwise, in her experience. ]

I was the one who summoned you here. I want to talk.

[ words are spoken— these, this time, are not words. they are sounds, like the high shrieking of gaggles of children, of wailing men, of groaning floorboards too old to do anything smoothly; they are ideas that respond to her, and repeat, repeat, repeat in so many different ways—

but it, for some reason, is not hostile, not compared to its last slip up: ]

t̟̞͓a̢̼͙l̝̫k̡͉̦?
t̾͐͆a̽̒̈́l͑͠͠k͐͛̐?
t̴̡̼͑̿̒͜a̴̢̦̼̾͋̈́l̵̺̙̈́͊͌k̵̼̺͉̾͑͘?

[ the slime inspects the limits of its enclosure and hisses, like snake and cat, when its advances ahead toward the girl bare nothing but blockades. it comes in chitters: hundreds of tweets, a single croak, and an ugly, wet sloshing: ]

S͛РⷬEͤAͣᴋⷦ

[ Ange pours a little bit more magic into the circle. Just in case. Even if it's not quite as hostile as she expected the entity to be, she'd still rather have the reassurance that it can't touch her until she's absolutely clear on where they stand.

Especially in the face of everything she's seeing and hearing right now. Stuck with it in this dark underground room, it feels even more like she's been disconnected from reality, thrown right into the realm of witches once more. ]

I'm here to speak about Falco.

[ There's a beat, and then Ange seems to realise maybe.. the entity doesn't know his name.. So she adds: ]

The boy you reside in.

[ Surely it will have to realise what she means by that. She speaks on, in turn, trying to keep her voice steady and clear. ]

He has been trying to speak with you. Why do you not speak to him?

[ the head tips back. he chokes, gags on the ooze. the neck bends and rolls to the side to accommodate. eyes and teeth surge and dissipate. it wants to warp her reality, her senses, it wants to break her mind. that was its essence. that was its purpose, its nature, and it knows nothing else. then why does it hold back? ]

ᵥₑₛₛₑₗ [ it pushes through ange's head like an invading thought, but it has no barbs to leave in its wake and tear her from within. it can only press itself against the metaphorical glass of the magic enclosure, moving the boy's body like something boneless. ] ƎꓤISƎᗡ.

[ and then, suddenly, it is talkative, too talkative, like a short-circuiting program encountering an error, too many voices, too many whispers and screams and laughs and cries: ]

Oͦ ВⷡEͤIͥNG OͦF ᴋⷦNOͦWLEͤDͩGEͤ РⷬAͣIͥMⷨOͦN
IͥS͛ Aͣ FOͦOͦL OͦF CͨOͦNFUͧS͛IͥOͦN
CͨOͦNFUͧS͛Eͤ c̴͎̻͒͐̒o̴͚͉̪̒̓͒n̴͙̝̻͛̽͆f̵̺͚̪̓͒͐ǘ̵̪̻̠̈́s̸̡͓͕͆͐̈́è̸̡̼͉͛́ CͨOͦNFUͧS͛Eͤ
w̸̞͓̻̿͘͝h̸̡̼̪̒͊͛ỳ̸̦̞͚̾͠ WнⷩY w̸̞͓̻̿͘͝h̸̡̼̪̒͊͛ỳ̸̦̞͚̾͠
? ? ?
█░▀█▀▀ ▀ █░░
▀▀ ▄█▄ █▄▄
MⷨAͣᴋⷦEͤ CͨнⷩOͦCͨOͦLAͣᴛⷮEͤ m̅i̅l̅k̅
DͩOͦ n̷o̷t̷ d̷e̷s̷t̷r̷o̷y̷ WIͥᴛⷮнⷩ CͨнⷩOͦCͨOͦLAͣᴛⷮEͤ ВⷡOͦMⷨВⷡS͛
ᴛⷮнⷩIͥS͛ РⷬLEͤAͣS͛EͤS͛ VͮEͤS͛S͛EͤL
𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙘𝙝
WнⷩAͣᴛⷮ IͥS͛ 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 ?
WнⷩAͣᴛⷮ 𝗶𝘀 CͨAͣRͬEͤ ?

[ Ange feels very grateful for two things in this moment.

First of all that Falco showed her those texts - because without that context, Ange sure would be the fool of confusion herself in this moment - and secondly that her barrier is actually holding. Maybe it's a good thing that this exact sort of thing has always been her magical expertise, even before she started trying to strengthen and extend her magic. She doesn't want to know what that being could do if it could actually reach her, even aside from making Falco turn into a giant and kill her.

There are much worse fates than death. ]

Paimon and his vessel work together.

[ It doesn't feel great to call Peter a 'vessel', but she figures this entity won't recognize any other term. She mentally apologizes to Peter.

She leans forward, though making sure to stay clear of the edge of the magic circle, keeping up the barrier. The movement is mostly to show interest, even in the face of the ever-shifting mass of images in front of her. This is the point she most wanted to convey to the entity, after all. ]

Have you noticed? Paimon can do a lot of things he wants to. It's since him and his vessel communicate. They work together. You could work together with yours too. [ This feels like the best angle, especially when the entity doesn't even seem to know the concept of care.

But surely any being out there knows productivity. Knows when something is for their own benefit. ]

That is what care is for. If you care for your vessel, he will grow closer to you. Then you can cooperate.

[ paimon can do a lot of things he wants to. this is what sticks out the most. they do this . . . thing that the silence still has trouble grasping. it is a hungry entity, it's only ever fed off what is worst in existence and made it theirs. it has only ever swallowed up worlds at its grand prime.

it has never wanted, considered, or even fathomed allowing a fracture of its age-old existence to bond with a thirteen-year-old human, altruistic child. it was impossible and laughable, considering its infection through him in the first place had been wholly parasitic and one-sided. falco was a train ride from point a to b. was he, still? it croaks out, each word a choke: ]

W̅I̅L̅L̅
рⷬrͬoͦvͮiͥdͩeͤ
SͥUⷮSTEͥNANCEͥ?ͮᴱ?̅

[ it hasn't eaten correctly since march. every other blip of corruption was short-lived. ]

[ Ange's eyebrows rise a little.

Sustenance. Is that what the entity is out for? She didn't have any idea yet about its desires, after all, not to any specific extent like this. Even during their previous meeting she didn't learn much about that, though that could easily be chalked up to the fact that said meeting was.. well, a lot more unhinged.

At least this time it's a controlled kind of unhinged, with actual communication going on, even if she had to throw up a magical barrier for it. She just hopes Falco's body is alright, despite everything going on in front of her eyes. ]

What kind of sustenance do you need?

[ Considering the odd, odd nature of this entity, it could be a whole lot of things. With some options certainly being worse than others. ]

.. I'm a witch, you know. [ She adds, just to help the entity see some more appeal here too. It's seemed to work so far. ] I've helped a lot of beings like you before.

[ Maybe not.. exactly like it, but still. ]

The more you tell me, the more I could be able to help you. [ Depending on what exactly it needs. And depending on how beneficial it would be to Falco in the long run. That's her main goal here, after all. To make this entire situation more bearable for the poor kid. ]

Edited 2022-07-29 06:24 (UTC)

[ is she— bargaining with it? a squeaky blip sounds, so close to a child's high-pitched giggling that rebounds into a violin's one-note wail. it crawls to the very edges of its boundaries, and holds falco's little hands up to press against the barriers. it just wants to press, like feeling the coolness of glass on such a hot day . . . ]

Saͣdͩneͤs͛s͛ i̓̈́͠r͋͌͆ë́̀͠ ǝƃɐɹ s̸̡͍͕̀͠͠u̵͉͔͉͋̔̈́f̸̡̺̞̔̒͠f̴̦̺̈́̓͛͜é̸̦͙̦͛̒r̴̢̦̺͐͆͌i̸͔̞̿͊̐n̴͎͎̺͑͆̿g̵̫͓͓̓͒̈́ f̦͚̪e͚͖̪a̢͕͜r̡͔͙
ʰᵒʳʳᵒʳ mͫiͥs͛eͤrͬy █ █▀ ₙᵢgₕₜₘₐᵣₑ d̷e̷s̷p̷e̷r̷a̷t̷i̷o̷n̷
𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑟
we want everything

[ it has given her a shopping list. ]

ℎ𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑦
WIͥᴛⷮCͨнⷩ

[ In Ange's credit - even when it comes closer like that, Ange doesn't move backwards. She doesn't even flinch in the slightest. One might say it's just faith in her barrier continuing to work, but more than anything, Ange has always been recklessly brave in the face of such things. Dealing with a weird conversation with a strange entity is so, so much easier than your average social interaction, if you'd ask her. ]

.. you live off negative energy?

[ That's what she's assuming. It feels like the only way to sum up all those things the being is mentioning here. Is it siphoning that stuff off Falco, or does it absorb it from the people around them? Ange assumes it can't be the latter, since there's so much of that negative stuff in this place that the being would be stuffed otherwise.. ]

You sure picked the wrong host then. That kid is super friendly. [ And even that feels like an understatement to Ange. Falco is so young and sweet and hopeful in that way only kids can still be, she thinks.. ] Is that why you're so hungry? Doesn't he have enough of any of that for you?

[ the only time the silence's words come out in a horrible, layered scream of thousands is one: ]

▛N █ O

Wₑ Wₐₙₜ

EᵥₑᵣYₜₕᵢₙG

[ the screams still shrill like hell, but it also whispers like temptation, like the rattling of leaves and the lips of a devil. ]

let us out
vessel won't let us out

[ It's only now that she does actually lean back.

Mostly because of the sound, though. It shows in the way Ange moves a hand up towards her ear, rubbing at her temple there. Note to herself - please don't cause that again, because it could get real annoying really quick to endure those shrieks. ]

I won't.

[ That's a firm line she's drawing in the sand here. She's not going to set this kind of being free upon the people in this place. Falco must have felt the same way, if he actively tried to keep it within him. ]

I'm here to help you, but there are limits. You have to stay in Falco, just like Paimon has to stay inside Peter. Things get super messed up otherwise. [ Especially since she's pretty sure Paimon can't just exist by himself outside Paimon at this point. Maybe the same thing goes for this entity, and it just isn't aware. ]

Get it? I want to help you communicate with your host. If you won't talk to him yourself, then let me know what I should tell him.

[ .. even if she isn't sure she will get a very productive answer here. But she can at least say she tried. ]

[ if ange has never heard an eldritch horror whine, she possibly does so now. it's a wet, gnarling sound. a bit of a drowning hiss and a grumpy bah that would come from a bitter old man. from the sludge that falls from falco's face, an eye opens. another. many do, and all blink at uneven times to focus on the witch.

they make the stomach and got churn. looking straight into them might make one sick, or garner them a massive headache. ]

ᶠᴱᴱᴰ ᵁᔆ‧
a̞̼̼n͎̺̦d̢͙̙ w̢̦̻e̪̺̝ w̪͎i͖͇͔l͎͎͜l̝͇̝ c̺̻o͍̦͜n̢͙͇s̪̙͙i̼͓͖d̡͍͇e͓͙r͓̘͚
ǝsᴉɯoɹdɯoɔ.

That word is doing a lot of heavy lifting there. Consider.

[ Still, even as Ange is staying strong in the face of all this, carefully keeping her voice deadpan, she averts her eyes for a moment. If even just a glimpse of what she just saw is enough to make her woozy, then she knows better than to keep looking. She isn't sure she wants to know what would happen to her magic barrier if she were to pass out, and the last thing she wants to have to explain to Falco is why she set this possessed version of him loose upon the city.

She's thinking though. Even as she's looking away, and despite her deadpan answer, she's thinking. It could be a trap, since it's just saying consider. On the other hand, she knows how much more cooperative Paimon usually gets when his needs are being met as well.

It's at least something worth considering on her end as well. ]

How would one feed you?

[ Not what with, mind you, they kind of went over that. But she's not too sure if Falco knows either how said feeding would work, so she's trying to make sure to get all the details straight here first. If it can even feast on negative emotions, then it's not like you can just pull those out of someone's head to feed this entity. ]

[ what the silence responds with first doesn't actually sound like words or even a response at all— but it is deliberate, and it is loud after the shortest of pauses. it is a wet, croaking, dribbling sound, sloshing and popping and crackling like bone being mixed with thick ooze.

it finally puts together something coherent, stringing the slime against the shrouded face it uses against a messy, oozing palm: ]

Cͨoͦnᴛⷮaͣcͨᴛⷮ
ᵒᵘᵗˢⁱᵈᵉ, i̘͎n̢͙͉s̢̞̞i͇͇̝d͉̻e̡̦̠
𝑠𝑙𝑢𝑟𝑝

[ Ange definitely makes A Face here.

Not one that's directly aimed at the entity, since she's still trying to make sure to not look too close at something that might make her want to throw up, but the facial expression is definitely there. ]

Please don't say 'slurp'.

[ Please! Let's not make this grosser than it already is.

(And yes. Yes, Ange is totally the type to say this in the face of the eldritch being she's communicating with.) ]

.. but.. fine. I can tell him that.

[ Even though she's pretty sure Falco won't like it. But if it's the only way to get the entity to communicate with him, then.. maybe they ought to try and see if they can find some harmless way to do it. ]

This is a two way street though. Don't do anything bad to that boy in return, or I'll lock you down here forever if I have to. [ .. not that she would, given that Falco's body is still attached to it and all, but..

It's not like the entity has to know that, right. ]

Without anything to feed on.

[ !!! it would cackle once more at getting something out of her. it hisses and grumbles, but with one more (purposeful) slurp-pop from its bubbling slime: ]

yₒᵤᵣ dᵢₛgᵤₛₜ
ᵢₛ ₒᵤᵣ ₚₗₑₐₛᵤᵣₑ

[ they seem to be done here, the silence has both an understanding that there is nothing else to give and take, and there is nothing else to gain bubbling up from this already trembling, fragile container. the slime falls off of falco more, thinning into viscous strings that pile onto the floor and leave his face, his mouth, his nose, and his eyes. the last of its words are high pitched whispers, ]

weͤ s͛hͪaͣll feͤaͣs͛ᴛⷮ oͦn iͥᴛⷮ s͛ᴛⷮiͥll,

[ followed by a hollow, graceful, welcoming and tempting: ]

𝑤𝑖𝑡𝑐ℎ.

[ Lovely.

This time Ange doesn't bother saying it out loud in her deadpan sort of way, but she sure is thinking it as - of course - the thing has to part with such ominous words. Like this is a scene straight out of a horror movie, and she's the butt of the joke going on here.

Ange tries to shrug the thought off, especially as the slime has now stopped covering the boy. Unsure whether his consciousness is being pushed back to the front by the entity, Ange makes sure to give it a magical kickstart all the same, dragging Falco's mind back to the front, just as she had pushed it back with her magic before. ]

.. Falco.

[ That's better to focus on than the afterthought of the entity, lingering in her mind like the sticky slime it consisted of. ]

Falco, can you hear me?

[ She still has the magical seal activated, still pinning him to the spot, just in case. Ange isn't dumb enough to let the entity catch her off guard now. ]

[ it leaves behind the dazed look of a boy that wasn't all there— until he was chucked at the forefront of commandeering the body. falco gasps when his world begins to spin and when the view of it broadens . . .

way too quickly. his expression contorts into an uneasy scowl. he manages a fumbling, slow set of words as he begins to hold himself up with his arms and resting on top of his folded legs: ]

—I feel really sick.

[ again, but it doesn't look like he's going to hurl immediately?? points for the team! ]

[ .. oh, god. Even if he doesn't look like he's about to hurl at a disastrous rate, Ange still can't help but worry about it, especially with how woozy the boy is looking at the moment. She quickly deactivates the magic circle so he can move around a bit more freely, and then starts to quickly think of how to help his current state.

Except said thinking might be happening with a bit more panic than Ange would ever like to admit to. It doesn't show up a whole ton on her face, but Ange is definitely worried, and doesn't have a lot of ideas.

Until she holds out her hands in front of her. Golden butterflies gather there, before they change into a paper bag.

You know, the kind you may see on airplanes.

She holds it out towards Falco. ]

Here, use this if you need to..! [ A brilliant plan. So smooth. So elegant.

Look, you try conjuring up something to help a friend when you're panicked about the woozy state you forcefully put them in, okay!! ]

Just make sure to keep breathing slowly..! [ PLEASE DON'T DIE, FALCO... A-Ange's concerned!! Facing an eldritch monster? That's nothing. But having a friend in front of you who might be about to hurl is clearly the end of the world. ]

[ oh, no, he's—?! he's never seen ange that way. for a second, falco thinks it's worse than he imagines, touching his face and minding the remaining bits of ooze scattered around him while reaching for the offered bag. she must mean to hurl into it— ]

I-Is everything okay with me, Miss Ange—?!

[ IS HE A MUTATED ELDRITCH FIEND NOW— ]

[ She's just setting off a panic feedback loop here, isn't she..

It's a fact that Ange herself may also slowly be realising as she sees how Falco reacts. It makes her blush a little when she realises she may have been overly fussing here, seeming to slow down and - more importantly - calm down as she shakes her head. ]

No, I.. I just think you're feeling a little sick in the aftermath. [ It's a lot, getting your consciousness thrown back and forth like that.

She reaches out, trying to gently wipe some of the remaining goop off his face. ]

All this stuff is just because of that thing making a mess, don't worry.

[ Says the girl who was being way too worried only a moment ago... ]

I just.. [ She pauses. Being very emotionally honest is hard for Ange, at all times, but she's definitely trying here. Even if she has to force it out, judging by that hesitant pause before she speaks on. ] I was worried I screwed up something, and I wouldn't forgive myself if I did something bad to you.

[ But thankfully Falco seems alright, wooziness aside. ]

O-Oh, [ and she's—! she's taking care of him . . . 🥺 falco keeps still for the wiping, hoping that no rough stomach tumbles would cause him to jerk away. it doesn't happen beyond him needs to breathe steadily and swallow a lot. the taste in his mouth was as gross as the smell the slime still gave off. sulfur. rotten eggs. ] No, everything's . . . Everything's okay. It looks like— It worked, Miss Ange?

[ did it work? was the implication. ]

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cw for slime body horror, eldritch entity

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cw: eldritch eyes

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