[ ] The blue angel. One who will strive.
Your dream is a dream of chaos. Unnamed things reach out to you with unnamed appendages, defiling you, penetrating you, seeping into you and eating you from the inside out. You scream, but your voice dies before the sound is even born. You reach out, but your limbs are non-existent and do not respond. You listen, but hear nothing except a constant din of insanity. You see…
…and view something completely different.
The air is thick with the darkness of midnight, barely illuminated by a weak half-moon and a few pitiful stars. Around you is a grey beach receding into a black sea, the waves lapping against the shore, bothering no one. Your vision bobs up and down hurriedly, like you’re running from something, or perhaps someone. Sand suddenly explodes all around you as an object impacts into the ground before your eyes, knocking your feet out from off the ground. You expect your eyes to rattle with the force of your back impacting upon the ground, but they never do. You view glides backwards sharply, as if you’re flying.
A dark humanoid shape rushes at you from the sandy crater, it’s features impossible to determine in the poor light. Before it gets more than five meters, it trips and flies forwards into the sand, it’s legs completely encased in ice. Ice? Wait, did you do that?
Rather than face-planting into the ground, the shape uses its momentum to tuck into a roll, breaks the ice around it like tissue paper, and rockets towards you with a powerful kick. You dodge out of the way, a miniature hailstorm emanating from your hands—no, they can’t possibly be your hands!—and blinding your foe. You suddenly find yourself…standing on water? This can’t be, no, it isn’t you! But then who is it?
A giant boulder of ice rises out of the sea around you and hurtles towards the shape on the shore. It doesn’t shatter, and two seconds later you find the same chunk being thrown right back at you! It stops mid-flight mere centimeters before your eyes and dissolves into powdery snow…just in time for you to be blown backwards by an unforeseen punch from your adversary. The world becomes a swirl of black sky and black water as you pirouette lamely through the air. Somehow you find your feet and stand up, resting on a flat bed of ice that wasn’t in the water a second ago. A hand goes to your mouth against your will and brings back blood.
You speak, in a voice not your own. It’s male, full of confidence, happiness, and ego, three things you know you lack generous amounts of right now. The voice speaks to himself, or perhaps to you, or perhaps even to someone else, but you hear it all the same.
“Hold on, Cirno…I’m coming for you.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Dawn of the Fourth Day
You flicker back into reality as the memories of your strange dream fade from your mind. Your pen and journal lie carelessly on the floor; they must have slipped out of your hands while you were asleep. At least the ink didn’t stain the pages. Fumbling around in the dim light of the morning, you find your watch and check the time. 8:38?! Nathaniel wanted you down in the library by nine! You’re much more awake now, too busy getting dressed and getting your possessions together to think about that strange dream. Your good jacket hangs back in the armoire, perfectly clean. Sakuya again, most likely. You throw on some comfortable clothes and load your pockets up with pretty much all of your odds and ends, minus the books Remilia gave you. Nathaniel said to be prepared for anything, so prepared you shall be.
You now carry with you:
+A compass. It’s crudely made, but very trustworthy.
+A coin pouch. Contains all the money you own…plus a strange Yankee coin.
+A fountain pen. Discovered earlier in a pare of spare pants. Writes with a deep red ink.
+A blank page from your diary. You’ve sketched a map of the basement on this.
+A ring holding three keys. They unlock several secrets in the basement.
+A silvery gleaming key. It’s the master key to the mansion!
+A small silver pocket-watch. Tick tick tick. It reads 8:47.
+Three mystical cards. Perhaps they hold some hidden power.
+A letter opener. Long and thin, almost like a knife.
+A comb. Smooth and polished, good for looking like a gentleman.
+A thick diary. Already it’s pages begin to fill with adventures.
+A vial of pearly liquid. “Batch 3, 698-072441-H, 50 mL. Yagokoro, Eirin.”
+A compact lockpick set. Too bad you don’t know how to use them…
+A shiny automatic lighter. Lights the way in darkness.
+A stick of dynamite. Easy to use: light fuse, run away.
+A throwing knife. The blade shines with a silver hue.
+A strange angular pistol. There’s a single bullet in the chamber.
+Three danmaku spell cards:
1) Wood Sign, 「Sprout’s Awakening」
2) Moon Sign, 「Silver Sickle」
3) Harvest Sign, 「First Harvest」
You gaze over at Cirno on the bed and smile. She’s still sound asleep, the covers all bunched up around her wings, and a little satisfied grin on her face. You watch her for just a minute or so, her simple innocence soothing to your troubled soul. Realizing that you’re going to be late if you stay too much longer, you rub her shoulder, trying to wake her up. She moans quietly, but does not rouse. You wonder if fairies might require more sleep than humans, or something to that effect.
You ponder your situation carefully. You and Nathaniel are about to descend into the proverbial lion’s den, face two mentally-unstable “monsters”, attempt to bargain
with them of all things, and come out none the worse for wear. Any one of those four things could be an adventure in itself, and you wonder if perhaps Cirno should even be involved with it. She made it through the night just fine, and if you’re lucky this shouldn’t take very long at all...though at the same time, would she feel slighted if you left without her?
[ ] Wake her up more forcibly, then tell her the both of you need to get down to the library fast.
[ ] Wake her up more forcibly, but tell her you’d rather she sit this one out.
[ ] Don’t wake her; go down to the library alone. This is your mission, not hers.
[ ] Don’t wake her, but remain here and let her wake up by herself. She’s more important than Nathaniel.
[ ] A different idea? (Write-in)
I seem to have caught a most troublesome seasonal cold, and copious amounts of bodily fluids leak out of my skull like water, not to mention a quite annoying headache. Hopefully this will not affect my writing in the least, but as the illness has made my mind fuzzy right now, I am a poor judge of such a fact. >>24245
Well now you’re just reaching for things that aren’t there. >>24252 >Watch as this turns out to be, I dunno, Keine or something.
At least you kept an open mind. Points for that. >See, while everyone's busy playing the deadly intricate chess game, Cirno is playing Checkers…
I approve of this way of thinking. This is how people create good write-ins: by going beyond the impossible and kicking reason to the curb. >You are now imagining mini-Koakuma and mini maid-Cirno standing on opposite shoulders as his bad and good consciences, respectively.
This image stated here! I cannot remove this image from my mind!