( closed ) the only ones who need love are the ones who don't receive enough

[gradenine]

WHO: roland and certain people
WHAT: roland came back after disappearing mysterious and realized some really bad things. plotting comment for reference.
WHERE: the garden
WHEN: around the middle of the month, before the event
WARNINGS: body horror, violence, talks about murder and other nihilistic shit. also major project moon spoilers. see his opt-out for more info.


[ roland emerged out of the darkness like a dream.

or rather, he stumbles into the relatively new location as if he woke up from a horrible nightmare, clutching at his head as he makes his way towards the tea-party setup. this was the last place he'd remembered before vanishing, but the details were foggy. he wasn't even aware how long it's been. all he knew was that he met someone terrible who gave him equally terrible news, but he's used to disappointments -- even more so in this desolate imitation of a city.

someone had left green tea on the table, still hot. binah had told him that green tea is good for him, so he may as well take the load off and hope that the drink will clear his mind, and make him forget the bad news he'd received from argalia.

ah, yes. argalia is here, angelica's own flesh and blood. angelica had come back wrong, he gleefully. right. totally normal.

...

luckily, this isn't the first time this abnormality has taken over roland. he's used to the way the muscular sinews bloom across his body like a second skin (or even a flesh wound), the multitude of eyes blinking themselves open and roving their pupils around to scan the area. a gnarled leg of a bird sprouts from the top of his head, flexing its digits. his own left arm, meanwhile, has morphed into a bulbous club made of muscle and claw, which he is using to thrash at a nearby flowerbed for speaking out of line. ]

Why is he here... Why. Why. Tell me...

[ "i know why he's here," the half-dead flowers insist. "nothing ever goes my way. this city is out to get me, too."

but just because he's too engrossed in destroying the flowers within reach, it doesn't mean that the bulging eyes won't notice whoever comes into the garden, their unblinking gazes boring into anyone's eyes should anyone stumbles this sorry sight. he is making quite the ruckus, after all. ]

Comments

[gradenine]

[ midnight's enhanced sense of smell would also catch the scent of countless other people, reduced into this coagulated mess of flesh and blood that roland is covered in. the giant green eye on roland's shoulder blinks and seems to tug at roland's side to get his attention. so roland looks up and --

oh. it's that guy, and if the multitude of eyes zoom in a little closer, they can see that he's probably contacting the others for help. hah, not on his watch. the multitude of ears on roland's person has caught on to the flowers that echo midnight's inner thoughts too, and roland's only reaction to that is a wide, lopsided smile. ]

Mid... night.

[ he then starts stomping his way over to the taller man, his club-like arm raised to strike him down. ]

It's just you and me now...!! [ "i won't let your precious friends interfere." ]

[unrequite]

[ He lifts his eyes from the phone at the increased whispering, the drag of heavy feet, and without thinking, scrambles back and out of the way, phone still clutched in his hand, but message unsent. Midnight is not too proud for a tactical retreat. That voice is worrisomely familiar, as is the implication that he is known, but he's not particularly worried about anything except creating space.

If his precious friends are not allowed to interfere, that's fine. Midnight's used to going it alone.

You were never meant to survive for long.
Not your heart, anyway.
But it's a nice narrative bookend now that the rest of you will follow, isn't it?

He ducks behind some shrubs, trying to find cover. He just came in from the door, he should be able to get out again... Or at least make enough space to get the rest of his message out.

(He knows that voice. Who is that...? There are too many eyes to tell where a possible face might begin and end, but the shape of those shoulders was familiar...) ]

[gradenine]

[ there are indeed too many voices, and some of them don't even come from the flowers that echo both their thoughts. roland shuffles down the path, multiple eyes scanning the shrubberies and potted plants at the side, and when he opens his mouth, he doesn't sound like himself. he sounds like a man first, a woman second -- just an entire crowd of people begging for help a long time ago. ]

"Mon… ster. That… mons… ter… That monster… why is it here…"
"Help…me… Hel… HELP ME!!!"
…er!!! …ger!!! Save… me!

[ that was midnight he just saw, right? why else would he be here, trying to contact anybody for help?

"for an intimidating looking guy, he sure has a bleeding heart," the nearby flowers say. "and that's going to be his undoing." ]

[unrequite]

[ At the very least, he doesn't recognize the rest of those voices. He shuffles back, looking at the creature, then his position in relation to the door. It's not too far off... But there's no cover between where he's hiding and the creature's many eyes. He needs to create a distraction somehow...

He really does need to think of something quick. The ripple of gossiping flowers is starting to catch up with him.

Didn't you know? The bleeding heart is the least of his problems. He's already dead, and cowardice is what killed him.

Midnight picks up a stick from the dirt at his feet, aims, and throws it high and far, down the path toward the door. It's probably not an ideal move, but Midnight needs to find a new hiding place, somewhere where the flowers won't announce his presence... Maybe down the other path? ]

[gradenine]

[ that's a pretty good move, all things considered. but nothing there is a pretty smart creature thanks to the brains it had absorbed into its system, and instead of going for the stick, roland changes gears and goes for the source of the stick instead, rounding up the corner until he's face to face with the man the legend himself. ]

Mid... night.

[ he grins widely, the eyes on his body blinking. ]

If you're dead... that makes two of us. [ "i could've been dead so many times before, yet here i am, still standing." ] So it should be okay if I kill you right here, right?

[unrequite]

It's not.

[ The flowers titter in response, call out arguments in the contrary, yes, it doesn't matter, you shameful, cowardly demon, but Midnight is very used to ignoring these things and isn't the sort to let others shame him into thinking about anything he doesn't want to. He's a pragmatist. He's looking for weapons. He's intimidated, highly outmatched, and is perhaps afraid, but what he isn't is a quitter.

So, that's definitely Roland, or something that may have Roland in its clutches. Simple. (Does he really feel this victimized? That's a little sad... He never thought he felt this alone.) Midnight backs up, looking around for tactical advantages, keeping track of his exits. He needs... a space that he can fit in, but this thing can't. He also needs to move, but he can't let on that he knows what he's looking for, even if he hasn't found it yet...

Talking and moving at the same time it is. At least Midnight's good at that.

You can talk your way out of anything, can't you? Even the blood on your hands. ]

Don't know what you mean by that, anyway. We're both still breathing, aren't we?

[gradenine]

[ the garden, thankfully, has plenty of tools that are perfect as weapons in a pinch. roland would know, what with how he had almost killed someone here before. the memories are hazy, but there's no forgetting the spike of adrenaline whenever the urge overwhelms him. but in this form, roland couldn't care less about the pitchfork nearby or the shovel right around the corner, or the shed full of other tools used for gardening...

but never mind that now. roland's got midnight right where he wants him, and with just one swing of his club he could end the other man's life right here. but the flowers around them are too noisy, and it's only midnight's sheer luck that the monster he's facing right now is not as strong as it originally is. ]

You're still breathing. I've been suffocating this entire time... just watching you enjoy yourself.

[ "there's no use trying to wash off blood with no blood." "monsters like us... we don't deserve peace and quiet." ]

[unrequite]

[ Midnight's hands are feeling around for weapons, sure, but eye-contact is key here, so he keeps his eyes on Roland. Follow the hands, not the eyes...

Give in.
Grant him peace.
Coward.

He shakes his head slightly. ]

Ah... then we're opposites. Have been the whole time... I'm sorry for not noticing earlier. I'm the sort to fall for the happiness of others, you know.

[ Then what's so wrong with putting him out of his misery?
Judge his soul, demon. That's what you did last time, isn't it?
Ah, no. That was envy.

His hands brush against a shovel handle. He ignores it for now, but slows. If he's not going to pick it up, he doesn't want Roland grabbing it either. ]

I'll make it up to you, love. How about drinks? The doctor's been teaching me about mimosas, you know... Lovely things.

oh yeah you can also just poke its many monster eyes out to KO him whenever you wanna end this

[gradenine]

[ happiness, that actually gives in to envy. the very thought of it makes roland laugh, the distorted voices of the people that nothing there had absorbed joining in. ]

Are you really... that satisfied? Being here. With nothing to do.

[ he doesn't need a weapon. it's not the same as all the other weapons he used to have on him, and his enlarged arm is more than enough to take the other man down.

"i was never happy. i don't think anyone from that city can truly be happy." "no... i was happy once. but everything was stripped away from me in just a blink of an eye." ]

You're the same... aren't you? Also hiding what you truly feel. [ he takes a step forward. ] You just wanted to belong. But too bad you won't get it here--

[ and he swings his clubbed head again, seemingly out of other moves as a monster. ]

my guy that is happening right now immediately 🫠 sorry i just got like 5 angela tags in a row....

[unrequite]

[ Midnight's hand grabs at the shovel, swings at the head, hits it with a clang that vibrates up his hands, up to his elbows. Because at the end of the day, he's a vampire who works out. Who trains. Who won't be caught offguard again.

So much for being an expert in happiness, huh? ]

I never just get what I want, love.

[ Midnight rears back, swings again. And again. It's a different swing from his sword, but his aim is just fine. He aims for an eye every time.

Kill him. Watch him bleed. Don't you miss it?
The pleasure of the hunt... The kill...
The pleasure of knowing that your prey is dead. ]

That's why I always have something to do.

[ And with one last almighty heave, he aims the shovel at the monster who was once Roland. He knows that if he doesn't aim to kill, he doesn't stand a chance of harming him enough to get away. So he does. He aims for Roland's neck, or whatever's left of it. He swings so hard that either Roland's neck or the shovel will break. He aims to take his head off. This is something that is completely possible 20% of a vampire's strength, with the amount of training he does. This is precisely why he trains so much.

At the end of the day, he knows that he would kill to save his own life.

You're afraid of how easy it is.

Whether he does or doesn't manage to separate Roland's head from his shoulders, he will take advantage of whatever opening he's just made and run. He doesn't intend to kill anyone. Or hurt anyone. All he ever wanted was to run... ]

roland like WHY ARE YOU RIZZING UP MY BOSS 💀 also ill be in his inbox in a hot second hehe

[gradenine]

[ the onslaught caught roland off guard. it would've been fine if midnight had attacked him anywhere else but the eyes, but at the end of the day, the abnormality needed them to see. roland roars, whimpers, whines with every hit, sounding like a different person every time, until he collapses onto the ground in a meaty, sinewy mess -- much like a crime scene had taken place inside the premises.

although, upon further inspection, the abnormality covering his body also acted like a meatshield. thus, there is a chance that roland is still alive, albeit terribly battered from that literal shovel talk he'd just received from the taller man. but before midnight can book it, he might be able to hear roland's last words from a yonder flower as the vampire makes his way out:

"i knew you had it in you."

later, at the stroke of midnight, roland will revert to normal with only bruises and large scrapes on his person to show for it like some fucked-up fairytale. he will stagger back to his place, think about what had just taken place that day while recuperating. in other words, it's going to be business as usual once he's finally mended.

midnight, though? it sure seemed like he was coping in his own way too. but that's that, and this is this. ]