selfpreservationist | [RAVEN'S HEART GAME

Entry tags:

ic,
imeeji

[RAVEN'S HEART GAME - SESSION FOUR]

The first thing you hear is the sound of rain faintly hitting the exterior of the house. The soft pitter-patter is almost soothing, in a way, but it’s quickly followed up by rumbling thunder in the distance. You open your eyes, and for a second all you see is a flash of light--at first it seems like it’s lightning, but then you see something. A vision of a man dressed in rags, hunched over, waves of demonic power rolling over him. He howls, and something terrible starts to grow out of him: the bloody roots of a massive tree. An immense wave of panic hits you, and you can’t move, you can’t speak, you can’t breathe--

And then it’s over. It’s over. You’re fine.

The sound of rain returns. (This time it’s definitely soothing, compared to what you just saw.) You’re standing in the foyer of a mansion, a wide open living room in front of you. The door behind you is faintly ajar, leading outside.

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[ ...considering how she feels all of a sudden, climbing into a bed and curling up sounds ideal, but she'll do that later. in private. heads to the chest to check out the epigraph. ]

The epigraph carved on top of the chest reads:

“I love you as certain dark things are to be loved
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.”

The wooden chest appears to be locked, somehow. There is no keyhole anywhere to be found, but there is an indentation where something could be placed. It’s shaped vaguely like an oval, about the size of a child’s fist.

[ ...so she can't drag the kid inside, so she's going to assume the amulet might go in there, but she'll hold off and take a look around to see if there's something else. ]

[ time to check out the framed picture and diaries. ]

The photograph is of a woman with long blonde hair. It must be the same woman from the portrait in the foyer, though her face is much clearer now. Actually, there is something of a resemblance between her and Raven, don’t you think? As you stare at her, you feel--for just a brief moment--a sensation like being embraced, held warmly in a pair of arms. By the time you realize it, it’s gone… but it was nice while it lasted.

The diaries all bear labels in gold-leaf print:

Dante
Dva (Hana)
Glory
Nero
Noah (G’raha)
Shrike
Vergil

Each book is fairly small, like a pocketbook, but have all clearly been written in.

[ the names on the diaries don't surprise her. she'll start off with noah's, since he's no longer here. ]

The book reads:

I’ll never forget the moment he told me. That his heart belonged to another, one from his world he’d always love and be beholden to, and yet he yearned for me anyway. He wanted me, wanted to cherish me, wanted to love me despite everything. I can think of no higher honor, especially not from someone as devoted as Raha. My Raha. It was a playful thing at first, making claim to him, but as time carried on I went from casually possessive to wanting to be by his side--not just as a lover, but as someone who could help him shoulder whatever burdens he possessed. His kindness, his generosity felt boundless at times, but I saw what the weight of sorrow did to him. For the first time since I awoke in this place, I felt the need to do something for someone else: not for my own sake, but for theirs. I consider myself a selfish, greedy man, but for Raha I learned what it was to be someone’s solace… and for that I can’t thank him enough. I want to be the kind of person he feels he never needs put on airs for. I want to be the kind of man he can confess his feelings to, even the ugly ones. That I’ve succeeded occasionally and seen glimpses of his heart, the parts of himself he’s held in check for so long, is immensely gratifying. Every day I am not with him feels like an ache that’s slowly growing, until it will carve out a hollow core inside me. But perhaps the next time we meet, I’ll have become someone he won’t even hesitate to lean on. Whoever his true love is, I hope they know what fortune they have. I know I certainly do.

...heh. [ a small smile turns up her lips. it's nice to get some insight on their relationship, since she didn't know *too* much about it... but the time spent with the both of them had certainly been something special. perhaps he'll return. ]

[ onto dante, vergil, & nero. might as well get the other spardas out of the way. perhaps she's just avoiding reading her own for as long as she can manage. ]

Dante's book reads: Originally, it was just a game. Even when I learned of what I am, where I came from, my feelings for Dante were like the shallow depths of a much greater sea I refused to wade further into. Oh, I’ve hated him, resented him, wanted to kill him, just as much as Vergil does, but I’m not as attached to those feelings anymore. How easy was it to bring him low, down to my level, when I saw how he looked at me? And he said it himself--I was everything about Vergil that he liked. So things took a different turn; I craved his attention, his affections, and somewhere along the line it became less of a game… it became something else. Something real. When did I start just enjoying myself around him? When did I start thinking of him as another half of my soul, the way twins should be? When did Dante become someone to seek solace in? I know it’s foolish. I know he shies from that kind of vulnerability just as much as Vergil, even moreso, and yet he comforts me. When I was dying, in my quiet moments of grief, I daydreamed of crawling inside his heart and resting there, safe and protected. If Vergil wouldn’t take back this frail human heart, perhaps Dante would.

Vergil's book reads: Ah, Vergil. My Heaven in Hell’s Despair. More of my tears have been shed over him than anyone else. On my worst days, I look at him and feel bitterness rise in the back of my throat. “You rejected me. You abandoned me.” I can think of nothing else, try as I might. On my best days, he is a joy. Sometimes I am filled with the overwhelming urge to hold him in my arms, weak as I may be, and kiss him. I want to tell him that I love him and that I will always love him. Pathetic, isn’t it? But that’s what I am, after all. I am my own man, but nothing will sever my connection to Vergil’s heart. I don’t want to be severed from Vergil’s heart, honestly. As painful as it can be, it is who I am. How I came to be. I don’t want to throw that away, even as I resent him and I cherish him in equal measure. Sometimes I hate that he wants me to be my own person, as it feels like just another way to push me out of his life, like he pushed me out of his body with Yamato. And yet, without that separation, I would never have come to know the man he is now. I would never have come to love him the way I do, if he did not push me. The more he grows, the further away from him I feel… and the deeper I fall for him. What kind of man am I, if not Vergil’s?

Nero's book reads: There is something very romantic about the idea of nursing an unrequited love for the rest of one’s days, and if I live long enough to pine for the days of my youth, I’m certain the one thread of lost love I’ll still be clinging onto is Nero’s. I have never been so proud and so ashamed as when I am with Nero. Proud that I could be a part of his life, proud that I could be someone he trusts, proud that I could call such a man my son, proud that I can support him, proud of who he has become and the strength he carries. And ashamed that I have hurt him, ashamed that I cannot banish my desires, ashamed that I cannot push them aside and want what is best for him, ashamed that I prefer to call him my brother instead of my son in the vain, selfish hopes that one day that could be a boundary he would be willing to cross. But these are feelings I’ve accepted, more or less, because more than anything else I want to be there to watch him grow and thrive and live a long, healthy life. If there is one Sparda who deserves everything the world has to offer, it must be Nero. I’ll never forgive anyone who tries to rob him of that right. On my deathbed, if the last thing I saw was Nero’s smile, I could die happily… or I could push myself to live just a little longer. Just to see it for a few seconds more.

[ ...oof. ok, so this is a lot more than she had been expecting. ] Note to self, if Dante shows his face here again... be sure to punch it. Immediately. [ 8|. ] ... [ the vergil thing... she's not as surprised as she should be. she can only imagine how these feelings have been festering, especially given that vergil cut him out to start. but it's nice to know that things are developing. perhaps she should punch him too. these boys are shit with their words, like, 90% of the time, so... ]

[ she just closes the nero one after reading it and returns it, with the others, back to the shelf. going to grab her own now. ]

I knew Hana was going to be someone special to me not long after we met. It was not the eccentricity, the bubbly personality, or even the gentle way she coaxed me out of my shell. It was the pain I saw beneath her smile. I recognized it as soon as I saw it: someone with a broken heart, just like mine. I think it only natural that I would gravitate towards that, towards someone who had suffered the kind of pain I’ve always held within me. But neither of us know how to heal our own wounds, and so I think we have both unintentionally caused the other even more pain. For that, I would beg her forgiveness. We both argue that the other one is the sun to our moon, but if she thinks of me as her sun, then I confess I am honored. I just hope I can live up to it, and help her shine the way she’s meant to. And despite our ups and downs, no one makes me laugh quite like she does. No one shatters my glumness like her. I come back to the question she asked me again and again… would I marry her, if I could? Maybe, if we can both find a way to heal. Once, she was my wife in all but name; the queen alongside whom I would reign in the Underworld. But that was a fantasy used as a tourniquet--something to stop the flow of pain coursing through both of us. Now, she doesn’t have to resign herself to ruling Hell, and I don’t have to resign myself to dying. It was uncomfortable to realize that I was using my own resignation as a crutch, and how it soured my feelings towards her. She deserves better than that. I deserve better than that. I don’t want us to rule over the Underworld anymore; I want us to rule as humans, side by side, in a human world that we can thrive and flourish in. She may not be my wife, but she will always be my queen.

[ snaps the book shut as soon as she's finished reading and just stares down at its cover. ] ... [ shuts her eyes and takes a deep and shuddering breath in an attempt to force her wayward emotions into place, though as the minutes pass it's getting harder - her mind having more time to process all the stuff she looked through. ]

...fuck. [ swallows, replacing the book on the shelf and stumbling into it to rest against for another few seconds. well, this has sure given her a lot of stuff to think about. murmurs something encouraging to herself in korean and eventually takes a step back. ]

I think that's enough of that... [ no more reading diaries. instead, she'll turn to the wardrobe and peer inside. ]

The wardrobe is partially opened, with clothing haphazardly strewn about on the bottom, spilling out onto the floor of the room. They’re all fine clothes, Zrael-esque with lots of ruffles and lace and tight pants, but there are a few that look ragged and worn. There’s a set of lacy, risque-looking panties and at least one set of lingerie in here. (hey, you recognize that lingerie!)

[ ...can she steal them hot pants ;3. one of the best things about having a goth twink lover is being able to steal some of his clothes, and she does love the zrael aesthetic~ ]

[ but also! she did get in a fight earlier. ]

[ can't ignore that lingerie though! so assuming she can thief she'll stoop down to pick up the lingerie she recognizes afterward. ]

You hear the sound of someone chuckling from behind you--low and husky and familiar. Raven is lounging on the bed, hair black, wearing nothing but a pair of black silk pants that hang low and loose on his hips, and a grin. It feels like the temperature in the room is rising…

"You have plans for those?"

[ she doesn't turn around and instead just smirks; lifting both the lingerie and the tight ass pants, one one each side. ] I did, actually. Which would you like to see me in?

"Hard to choose... especially when I like the way you look with nothing on at all." You can practically hear the grin in his voice.

If that's what you'd prefer ♥ [ she drops the lingerie she's holding on the floor and turns around as her tentacles burst out of her back; all wriggling around and starting to tear at whatever she's got on as she moves towards the bed. ]

I'm ready to get that SSStylish rank~ [ how about using those leather pants to tie his wrists to the bed ♥ ] But I do want to check on one more thing, first, if you don't mind giving me a few minutes.

He will not object to being tied up.

"Going to work me up and then leave me cold? How cruel of you."

...oh, nae salang, I don't plan on leaving you high and dry. Do you really think I could say no to you, ..? [ licks her lips. ] I just want to see if I can get somebody else to join in the fun~ [ but for that comment of his one of her tentacles is going to drag over his front to tease him. ]

I'll be back~

[ time to go bother snoozing raven. ]

He licks his lips at her. "Don't take too long."

[ ♥ ]

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[RAVEN'S HEART GAME - SESSION FOUR]

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