TEST DRIVE MEME #25

[penancemods]

Arrival

"Judgement has come upon you. God has deemed you worthy of Hell. But don't worry, it can still be undone," comes a soothing voice that echoes all around you. The voice promises comfort, hope even.

It may seem like a nightmare at first, despite all of that. Full of hellfire nipping at your skin and a sensation of being pulled down no matter how much you struggle or cry for help. Wretched, unseen hands pull at you, grip tight at your body, tighten on your throat, skeletal fingers grab at your face, slide in your mouth and jab at your eyes as they struggle for purchase. It feels like for a moment, they may snap your neck as they tug and pull. The more you resist, the more phantom hands are added to your struggling body.

It feels like they could tear you apart if you let them. The only thing to do is to let go and stop fighting.

And so you do.

Darkness consumes you for a second.

Initially, everyone opens their eyes to a long, dark corridor made of stone. They find themselves in what appears to be a long queue with other sinners, palm bloody with a contract clutched in their uninjured hand that they don't remember signing.

Characters find their bodies feel heavy and stiff, bruised with odd hand prints here and there that they received during their journey down below. A massive headache throbs behind their temples.

If they look at the list in their hand, they'll notice it's written on with their blood. That explains the wound then. It's an old piece of parchment that details every sin they've committed.

As they move along the queue, they'll find a demon waiting to pass them a communication device that looks almost like a very old Blackberry type phone.

"Welcome to Penance," the demon says gruffly before motioning them on without an ounce of courtesy. "Don't hold up the line. This trip is gonna take longer, but at least you get a vacation..."

Once characters have their device and their contracts, they're ushered further down the hall until they come to a set of stairs. They seem to go on and wind forever, but eventually, they come upon what appears to be a door that's alight with white energy. Stepping through, they find themselves on an island.

There's a demon with striking animal features waiting at the start of a long path where an old castle can be seen looming over a quaint, old village. There's music on the air, celebrations clearly taking place. It's explained that while Lucifer rests and recovers, Mammon will be taking his place. Hell is, for the moment, a pleasurable experience they will heartily insist.

Unfortunately, there is a bit of a trek ahead still. The demon urges them on.


Stand Your Ground

With the carnival leaving, vanishing seemingly overnight, and sinners finding their animal features fading into bad dreams, Lucifer is preparing two ships for the voyage home in a couple of weeks. He seems rather anxious to get back to Penance after the carnival's grotesque entertainment at the expense of his sinners, although he seems to strain to maintain good relations with Mammon. The local demons remain accommodating and friendly for the moment as well, seemingly not finding anything at all wrong with their previous behavior.

The tavern is still bustling, the brothels are still enticing, and everything seems largely back to normal. There are back alleys for the additional mischief of drugs, pain, and pleasure as usual. There are busy shops and salons. Things one may not always find back under Lucifer's care, so sinners would be wise to spoil themselves one last time!

Additionally, there's the feeling of magic in the air that wasn't there before. It's not ominous, it's not terrifying. It's a tingle against the skin or a feeling of exhilaration when one is out and exposed to it. Curiously, things begin to happen. Those artistically inclined will find their sketches coming to life over night and causing mischief. Sinners who have no interest in art will still find sketches drawn on windows and the sides of buildings all throughout the tiny village. They may even witness these things coming to life if they're out late enough!

Animals may also develop an ability to speak over the next few days, whether it's demanding to be fed or revealing some embarrassing thing they've seen their master (or their master's friends) do in private. Though their population has been depleted thanks to sinner antics, these particular hybrids eagerly scurry up to guests to deliver acorns. If opened, the acorn will share a message. They seem intent to make a little bit of mischief for their trouble and may reveal feelings others have for you, something bad from home, or an ominous message to be wary, it will vary. It may also carry a much more important message such as The Veiled Order awaits your return or Barbas isn't done yet, Mammon's greed will be the end of him is also a rather popular one. Shouldn't have trusted the apples, but that's just silly, isn't it? They were perfectly fine apples!

The fun seems almost at an end as days go on though. There are whispers in the air that Lucifer is planning a bit of a detour for some sinners to explore cult activity. But those are just rumors for now! Nothing more than whispers in the wind.

A few days into the last two weeks of the trip, the weather seems to take a bit of a turn. There's an almost unseasonable chill in the air, with a steady rain that follows. It's a mix of water and blood, which makes it a bit of a chore to adventure too much in it. Raincoats and umbrellas are available for all guests in the castle. The local demons seem to not mind much at all, dancing in the puddles of rain or playing freely in the streets. They seem to be rather satisfied with weather they don't see much of.

While the carnival is out of town, there are still some goods that remain in the form of plush toys of Lucifer, Lilith, Mammon, and even a couple of Barbas. Strangely enough, there may also be one or two available of sinners, seemingly at random. There are also hell fish one can buy for pets if the dragons don't tickle your fancy!


A Curse Befalls the Wicked

What would such a fantastical setting be without a visiting old witch? One evening, in steps an old crone to the village. Where did she come from? No one knows. How did she get in? Uncertain. The local demons seem to be rather standoffish with the way she goes from shop to shop, asking for food or drink or item that they refuse to give. She's an outsider that was not invited by their ruler, she's not deserving of their hospitality. She unsettles the animals in the pet shops and those loose in the village, she spreads unrest wherever her path leads. Looking at her too long sends a disturbing shiver down one's spine.

Still, despite the lukewarm welcome, she eventually approaches sinners to plea for help or to chat or even simply to ask the time of day. While her presence is unnerving, it's recommended to take caution. Sinners, be wary! Slight this witch in any way and you will receive her wrath -- and her curses! She spits her magic in a vile and ancient tongue, turning from old lady to something downright disturbingly demonic.

What the curse does will depend heavily on how the sinner managed to anger the witch:

For rudeness or dismissiveness shown towards the witch, some may find themselves drawn into a tale as old as time. Cursed with the supposed wickedness of their soul on display for all to see and a tiny rose. As if that wasn't bad enough, they will have to convinced another that they are not as terrible as their appearance indicates. Desperation may lead to the desire to kidnap another or threaten, for as the petals drop from the rose, the witch threatens that their physical attributes will remain. How their beastly appearance manifests is left up to player discretion.

If another sinner can find love or understanding for their captor, then the spell will be broken.

For aggression or violence, sinners will find themselves reduced to a frog or other unsavory tiny animal, with little other choice but to try to find someone who is willing to give them a little kiss to restore them back to their mortal form. Failing to do so will mean they will be stuck in this form until the witch decides to have mercy, or Lucifer finds a way to undo the spell.

However, for kindness or sympathy, sinners will be rewarded. They will receive a golden medallion with a ruby stone in the center. The witch will promise that all who receive one will be protected against zealots or those who would do them harm since the stone will light up whenever the Veiled Order is near.

Eventually, by the end of the second week, there will begin a hunt for this naughty witch who has been keeping herself hidden. And similar to a tale we are all familiar with, she will be put to death by means of being cooked alive in a fire pit in the center of the village. Grotesque and violent perhaps, but the demons seem to rather rejoice at the display, glad that this will also break all the curses plaguing the village.


Reach Up High

WARNINGS: foot torture, severing of limbs, loss of control.

There is always an opportunity to learn and better one's self in every venture you undertake and now is no different, sinners! While treatment of the old witch may factor in for one's journey on redemption, there will be a chance to remove one sin from one's contract!

"Unfortunately, all good things must end, darling," Lucifer's voice rings out in the ears of all present sinners, familiar to some and new to others. He's nowhere to be found, but the tone of his voice is reassuring.

"And I am to aid you on your path to redemption still. The dreadful old witch has seen fit to curse some of you, I realize. the shoes upon your feet will soon fill you with the insatiable need to dance... and certainly, this seems almost deceptively silly, but the urge will not leave until you have confessed a sin you are most ashamed of. Loud and proud for all to hear. If you resist, darling, you will dance to your death. It will be an ugly, dreadful affair, I assure you."

It starts like an itch at first, to move your feet, to move your arms. It's easy to ignore in the beginning, the restlessness itching just beneath one's skin. It threatens to grow and consume though the longer it goes on though.

"Of course, should those around you feel like taking pity upon you, then they may aid you. Should they find a way to cut the shoes from your feet as they begin to meld with your flesh, or severe them entirely, the urge will leave you. Don't worry, my dear friend Mammon has healers on staff to help your injuries. And I do remind you, pain can be a centering force. It can also show you who you truly are inside. Please embrace it and do not fear it."

The longer sinners resist, the more they'll feel this urge to just move, dance. Even when their feet begin to bleed and their bodies begin to wear out, they will not be able to stop.

"And do not worry about being the one to inflict pain, my dear guests. It is for a good purpose... sometimes we have to hurt those we love to help them in the end."

If the shoes are removed, either by cutting them from the flesh or removing feet entirely, both sinners will earn a sin removed. If the sinner afflicted announced one of their worst sins, they will find it removed from their list. If they dance until they die, well... they died for stubbornness and will find the sin remains.


You Mustn't Be Late for the Ball

And what would Hell be without a farewell celebration? While Lucifer seems to be very uncomfortable after his last experience at a party, where guests attempted to drink his blood, he is polite enough to make an appearance in the grand ballroom in Mammon's castle. Dressed to absolute perfection for the event, Lucifer will urge his sinners to come to the celebration as well. Mustn't be rude to their savior after all. He may shy away from center stage or try to slip out, but sinners shouldn't let that discourage them from enjoying the grand affair! Happening towards the end of this little journey to foreign lands, the ballroom will be lit up brightly and music that encourages dancing and a good mood will fill the air. Food galore is available, as well as free flowing drinks, drugs, and anything else one could want!

There is one little tiny catch though! All who attend must put on the formal wear left for them in their hotels. The style of the clothes made available will veer towards old fashioned. Lovely suits for men, extravagant ball gowns for women. Should anyone show up not dressed in everything given, even including corsets and other uncomfortable items, they will find themselves unfortunately naked. Will they endure the shame or will they cave and put on proper attire? Mammon has tried to be accommodating, but truly, he only asks this one thing...

Should anyone try to remove articles or not follow any sort of etiquette proper of their setting during the ball, they will find their corsets tightening, their shoes undeniably uncomfortable, their waistcoast growing more restrictive... Eventually, it will become very apparent that it would be wise to respect the lord of this land's wishes!

Other than that one minor detail though, tonight is a night of celebration. There seems to be something in the air that fuels a good mood and merrymaking during the ball, despite any nagging discomfort. The ball will extend on through the early morning hours, and include an unusual party game. It seems that Mammon is a romantic at heart. There will be names drawn from a hat at some point during the event and surprise, it's for a marriage ceremony! What's a bit of arranged marriage between friends? It's merely a fun part of the evening... although still a binding contract like those made during the casino. While not every name will be called during the ball, it seems as if Mammon has tried to play matchmaker with enough sinners to start some rather lovely marriages. There will be an officiant available to carry out the ceremony and refusal isn't accepted... and possibly even punished. If not punished, sinners will find themselves dosed with something that will make them eager for their upcoming vows.

None of this could possibly because adultery or not honoring vows is a sin. It's just for amusement, that's all. Don't worry so much, sinners! Guests are free to return to their rooms at any point. Ah, well, just go to sleep and wish for better in the morning? Hopefully no ribs or toes were broken by tightening, unforgiving corsets or shoes intended to punish either.

[Note: While these marriages are arranged ICly, players are encouraged to talk and decide their partners for themselves and may marry multiple people through the course of the evening. Polyamorous relationships are hardly an issue in Hell!]


Follow Me Down

WARNINGS: sexual themes, somnophilia, dub/non-con potentials, potential vore, animal-like traits, mating.

Those inflicted with the Sleeping Beauty curse will unfortunately find themselves in a deep slumber throughout Mammon's lands, dropping wherever they were. Ever eager to do their part to help sinners along, the succubi of these lands take their sleeping forms and dress them in extravagant fashions and lingerie. They also lay them in beds full of flowers in inviting, provocative poses. If sinners near these sleeping forms, they will be taken with a sweet scent given by the flowers that will incite a need. The aphrodisiacs will be potent, all consuming.

After all, what will awaken these sleeping beauties isn't simply true love's kiss, but the most satisfying orgasm. This may mean people will have to take multiple turns to rouse the sleeping person. Of course, there will be toys, aids, and various kinds of lube available to aid in whatever sinners need to accomplish their task.

For those who aren't quite interested in rousing the beauties, there are other antics to be had! People may find themselves cursed with wolf-like tendencies that may make them want to devour the innocent or defenseless in every sense of the word. It may also make certain anatomical changes ranging from fur to tails to the ability to knot while mating. Sharper teeth, better to eat one with, may also be included in the curse.


Wildcard/Misc.

Don't see something you love but still want to get a feel for the game? Check out our extensive list of LOCATIONS and write up your very own prompt however you'd like to! You can also add a "NETWORK" post option to your TL for quick, easy, and fun interactions.



And without further ado: Welcome to our new TDM for the July 1st app round! As always, potential appers and characters already in game are welcomed to jump right in! This TDM counts as an additional game event as well as game canon for those coming into the game. If you app and are accepted, TDM tags become game canon and can be used for AC! Please have fun and don't hesitate to ask any questions you might have down below.

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[twatter]

Because.

[ He tries to answer and has no answer. When she inches away from him, he's forced to face a very real, cruel fact. Maybe he's a monster. It was easy to not feel that way around Kaiba because Kaiba's a monster, too. And it helped him to cope while they were apart. It helped him to not slip into painful moments of guilt and helped him pretend as though he had been justified. Blood sacrifices for a god. It should have been a normal thing, second nature...

Monika hurt him. She destroyed him. She deserved to feel bad about it, she deserved the guilt. But now she's afraid of him, and he doesn't like that. His hand itches to grasp her again and instead he curls it into a tight-knuckled fist behind his back because touching her doesn't help, and talking to her doesn't help. What did he honestly think was going to happen here?

What did he want to happen here?

He doesn't know, he doesn't know, he doesn't know. All the information of the world at his disposal and he just doesn't know how to get rid of this married blend of bitter resentment and painful yearning. ]

Because I thought you'd fucking appreciate that I didn't throw you away.

[ He finally finds his voice, looking toward her again, brows drawn as though he could will her to make eye contact if he concentrated hard enough. He doesn't cheat and force her to. It needs to be of her own volition. ]

Not like what you did to mine...

[holeinwall]

[ As she's picking at a wet spot on her gown, she contemplates giving up on trying to put on a brave face. She was already probably making questions pop up in the heads of those she was trying to appear normal to, since she'd talked to nary a one. And now there was this, more torture on top of what torture she piled upon herself every day. Returning to her room and going back to being nothing seemed so much easier. Then the days could continue drifting by as she slowly pieced herself back together.

And yet. And yet.

He gets his look, but it's not something soft or kind. There's disbelief, and maybe an undercurrent of affront. Weirdly enough, it felt nice to feel something after so long, but this wasn't what she'd hoped it'd be. Hell was always full of surprises, wasn't it? Like this one. ]

What? Am I--am I supposed to be grateful?

[ Her chest starts to heave for a different reason now, her own buried resentment boiling up from a place she didn't know existed. Maybe she was right when they'd had that talk about gods so long ago. Maybe they're all absolutely insane. ]

What I did wasn't right. I know that now. I should've told you, and I shouldn't have built our relationship on lies. But I truly and deeply loved you with all my heart, no matter what you think. And now you expect me to be happy that when you literally ripped it from my chest, you didn't toss it in the garbage? Like my heart isn't already there now?

[ A tear does nearly fall, but she brushes it away roughly before it can hit her cheek. All she'd done, all she'd given him, all she'd shown him, and he wants to act like he got the shit end of the stick? It's not like she hasn't been paying attention. She's seen him gallivanting about, having a grand old time. But oh, his heart was tossed aside! ]

You're no better than the person who sent me here. Doing all I could to show you love only for you to kill me.

[ The only good thing about them was that she didn't have to face them after deletion. It'd upset her greatly before, never having any closure. Now? She's not sure if it'd ever have been worth it if this was what closure was. ]

[twatter]

[ This time he touches her again. This time he doesn't care about the intrusion into her code. Her words reignite his anger and manifest in him grasping her firmly by the jaw, fingertips biting into soft flesh and squeezing. He doesn't like her saying loved like it was some past tense thing, like she could wake up from death and forget him in a way he hadn't been able to forget her. And he likes even less being compared to some jackass playing a video game. ]

There she is. The manipulator, coming out and thinking she can play the victim. What a great sob story it is about this person who deleted you. Bet I'm going to turn into one of your sob stories, too. Guaran-fucking-tee you'll be playing that card on some fucknut who doesn't know better -- add a new person to your collection so you can continue to omit the details that don't paint you in the best light. My terrible ex gave me this scar on my chest, kiss me and make me feel better. Pander to my ego...

[ His grip tightens as he drags her face closer to his. They're only a breath away by this point. To any onlooker, this might appear to be a beautiful moment of intimacy. Their bodies fall into position easily enough, even if there's an undercurrent of tension and a static fizzle of electric in their erratic connection. ]

What did you do to the player to have them take you off the board, Monika? That's the question of the century because I know you had something to do with it. We ate that apple from the tree together and I can fucking see right through you.

[ His free hand comes up to settle blatantly on the scar, his scar, fingertips tracing across it. It's curious, how the skin managed to mend after being torn open. And even more curious is the feel of her heart, her new heart pulsing against his touch. Tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump in wild succession. ]

It gets you off, doesn't it? Feeling like you can control people, dangling them all on puppet strings. A lift of your finger and they'll dance and dance for your entertainment. Love is the lie you tell yourself to mask your incessant need to own someone.

[holeinwall]

[ There's a grunt of pain as he roughly grabs her, but that's all she limits her outward reactions to. He'd done worse. She could handle it. So with growing defiance she stands in his grasp, her own fire flickering back to life after it'd seemingly been snuffed out. He was spouting off uncomfortable truths, infesting and infecting her code, but that didn't mean she had to lie down and take it. Not here, not now, not when people could see. She'd been weak long enough. ]

Maybe you will. And it'll work. Because people love me.

[ She'd already come to accept she could be a bad person, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. It was Hell. Odds were against her in a slew of ways. If she had to use the one thing she knew how to do well to level the playing field, to get any small advantage she could, then...she was going to. ]

And my past is none of your business anymore. Think what you want.

[ It takes her nails pressing sharply through her gloves and hurting her palms to realize how tightly her hands had balled up. Some part of her hated how he'd been touching the scar he'd left behind, as if he had the right to. So many times she'd let him feel the heart beating underneath, told him it was his. Unable to stand it much longer, she shoves his hand away. She'll take what bit of control she can seize in the moment. ]

Maybe I do like controlling people. Maybe I do like owning them. But at least I know what I want in life. I don't go around acting all self-righteous and above everyone because, ohhh, I had the chance to cheat but I didn't! I'm so much better than you because I went for the first asshole who would take me! Talk about playing victim. You act like I was the only bad person in our relationship when you were there being bad right along with me.

[ Her chin lifts, his hand going with it. The fun thing about relationships? You could easily learn the exact things to say that would hurt the most. Only fair for how much he kept trying to hurt her. ]

You just hate that I'll never be alone. [ She laughs, humorless. ] And no matter what you do, you always will.

[twatter]

[ He listens to her words, the edge of them sharp -- but there's nothing there to cut. She tries to stab at him, to seek out vulnerabilities, but they don't exist right now. His hand falls away at her shove and he snickers, snide and derisive. ]

I found something real. I found someone real. Not like you playing the part of a real girl. I found someone who isn't just playing pretend. Someone who's upfront and honest with me. I have a whole future carved out with them. No bullshit. No romance. And I prefer it like that. So tell me again how I'll always be alone.

[ He puts his hand right back on her scar because how dare she think she can push him away like that! He takes the swell of her breast in his palm and squeezes. ]

But you will be alone. When this is all said and done, you will go back into the darkness of your void. You will have nothing and be nothing. No one will be able to bring you into the real world you so crave. And I hope you enjoyed the glimpses I gave you, the teasing taste of all that you will fucking miss. All of the people you date, all of these morons who claim to love you -- none of them have my power. I was your only chance of escape and you fucked that up.

[ He steps around front of her so that he's got her backed against the wall, so that she can't escape him now. Hands finally leave her body to brace themselves on either side of her head. ]

So go ahead and play your little empty love games for as long as we're in hell, Monika. Doubtful any of your partners really love you.

[holeinwall]

[ Her jaw is tight the entire time his words punt away any attempt to hurt him. But then she laughs again, almost involuntarily. ]

You're...delusional.

[ More laughter gets cut off by the feel of his hand, a breath instead getting sucked in through her teeth. Still, she's amused and smirking vaguely, almost like a mirror has been held up to her and she's seeing the truth. Clearly, she wasn't the only one willing to swallow down whatever alluring pill some people around here offered, or the only one quick to believe the pill wasn't a mere placebo.

Because he has to be talking about Kaiba. Kaiba, who thought himself so above technology with how he talked about it, who only thought of himself. It made her despise him more, how much he was tainting everything that mattered to her, that had mattered to her. ]

With how many people care about me? Pretty sure the odds are in my favor. But even if you're right, and no one loves me and I go back to nothing, at least I won't just be some tool in your war. Better to be back in my old hell than doing only what you want, all because you can't handle some stupid gods.

[ It was a fear, of course, that he was right--that ultimately the only thing left for her was to be thrown back into the void. But her game had taught her well. If a pathway was closed...you simply made another one. And another and another until the right one came along. Sometimes, it was a game over, but others? Victory. And she would win. ]

You're just like every other god, anyway, offering the world and snatching it away when your subjects don't constantly bow at your feet. So fine. Go live your new, real future. Why put my faith in a god who can't even function on his own?

[ She steps forward and leans in, voice low and harsh, challenging his attempt to keep her caged like all those times before. ]

And who knows? Maybe I will go home with Henry.

[ In more ways than one. ]

[twatter]

[ The expression that meets her is cold when she looms in closer to him, the flimsy threads of care have snapped at the moment. The words she speaks aren't necessarily what hurt him, but it's how quickly she went from apologetic to apathetic to antagonistic. As though she only cared so long as he was pressed firmly under his thumb and now that he wasn't, she could be as volatile and hateful as possible. A virus. Malware. It hijacked the woman he once loved and left this behind. Whatever this is, he hates it most of all.

Tech's hand moves from the wall and fingers wrap around her throat, tightening. She couldn't do much talking if he strangled the words from her, could she? Maybe he is a monster after all, but only because she made him this way -- she drew this out of him, beckoned it to life. She is to blame for the vengeful, bitter god he's become. ]

How sad is it, then, that I am a god who quote unquote can't function on my own and yet I still have total control over you?

[ To demonstrate this point, he infiltrates her system -- forces his way through their connection and seizes control of her arms. He makes her wrap them around his waist. Once at home, now locked there against her will. The smirk edging his lips is pleased and predatory. He will be her monster. He will be her worst nightmare. She will never sleep again without him haunting her every dream. He will make sure of it. Tech Boy leans in toward her ear, breathing his taunt. ]

You're still mine. No matter what you do or who you fuck. If I want you to dance, you'll fucking dance. If I want you to bow, you'll fucking bow. Technology is my bitch. Why put faith in a god like that? Because you don't have any other choice.

[ His grip on her throat loosens but only because he's closing in to devour her with an all-consuming kiss -- frustration, anger, desire all bleeding into explosive passion, a raging and destructive fire threatening to burn them both to ash. ]

[holeinwall]

[ Sometimes--well, lots of times--she liked to forget that hurting could go both ways. Just as she knew his weaknesses, he absolutely knew hers. His hand around her throat immediately knocks away any hint of smug satisfaction, replacing it with wide-eyed and abject terror. No matter their seemingly diverting pathways, she could still be at his mercy.

He won't even allow her the chance to fight, to keep pulling uselessly at his hand. Barely seconds after she's started scratching at his fingers, he's the one tugging strings, and all she can do is watch as her arms wrap him up in a sweet embrace. Her pulse pounds harder under his hand, memories of the last time he stole her autonomy overwhelming her thoughts. A strangled sob breaks free of her throat. This was the man, the god, she loves. Loved.

Her reprieve from the hand of her god is short. The sharp inhale she takes in comes from his mouth when it eclipses hers, and every bit of her body crackles with electricity. She struggles to regain her breath, not just from trying to recover, but also at how readily an all-encompassing want had been stoked. So long, she'd dreamt of this, to feel him again, to kiss him again. For him to want her.

...But not like this.

She had never tried to exert her will over him with their connection. That was a boundary she was afraid to cross--not that she even knew if she could. But in this moment, she had to try. She didn't have files underneath her fingertips, but he'd guided her through the process before in one of his so-called glimpses of the world. Just reach out and extend your mental hand, connect and it should let you in with ease.

So, reach out she does, pushing back through their fiery kiss. She doesn't know what'll happen. She simply thinks of things that she'd been responsible for in her game, willing them to be. After all, he'd never asked her why she was so familiar with glitches. His mistake.

Monika leans up on her tiptoes, deepening the kiss, forcing her tongue into his mouth. She would make him dance. She would make him bow. Because she was never going to be anybody's bitch. ]

[twatter]

[ Perhaps it might have been an easier thing to do when Tech Boy trusted her, when he allowed their connection to flow freely between them. But he can recognize the snaking of an intrusion instantly. He's not like the lifeless tech he tried to teach her to control, he is the father of it -- the final fucking boss. She needed to level up if she thought she could get past his firewalls and barriers. One attempt to get in gets denied. Another avenue gets shut down. The third attempt earns his ire and he fires back with pain, igniting her every nerve with the most exquisite pain as his mouth parts and he allows her tongue within.

Denied technologically but allowed physically.

The dance of her tongue infiltrates, the taste of champagne in her saliva and the other taste uniquely hers. It's a maddeningly confusing sensation -- like coming home only to have it catch aflame and be locked inside. The smoke overwhelming and toxic, the heat unbearable, and all he wants is fresh air but he can't come up for it, he can't escape and so he gets dragged down, down, down into the inferno.

His arms wrap her hips and drag her against him, as close as her irritatingly puffy skirt will allow while he simultaneously releases her arms from his mental grasp, giving her back free use of them -- perhaps in a subconscious hope that she'll claw, scrape and push him away. That she'll save them both from this maddening rabbit hole and be the reasonable one because he can't trust himself to be.

He can't trust himself around her.

His mistake was making contact. A potentially fatal error because what will happen afterward? For once, he can't allow himself to think of the future. Only the present. Only the pull of her lips and the magnetic draw of her body. A low growl emits in his throat as he paws at the scar on her breast -- his mark. His. ]

[holeinwall]

[ Just as he was regretting contact, so was she. It's why she'd been resisting touching him as much as possible, even with her extravagant clothing as a barrier. No amount of cloth could keep her heart, new or old, from wanting to be one with his again. No amount of resentment, bitterness, fear, or pain could stop it.

I wouldn't say fate. That's an old god thing. She remembers the words from their first meeting--something that felt like it was years ago now--and how readily he brushed off her assertion that their bond was meant to be. And now, torn away from him for so long, no matter if it was a result of her own twisted machinations, she can only believe more firmly that she was right. Like two stars destined to collide, they couldn't escape each other's pull and ultimate destruction. Forces beyond their control would never let them dance alone.

But you and me? We are the future.

His denial of her intrusions therefore sting hard, knowing he won't bend so easily to her will--not like he used to. She wants control again, for him to release her from the torment--only he fights back, sending her entire being into a fit of ecstasy once he grants her his unique gift of pain. Surely he must know it won't deter her, only drive her more mad for him? He earns a series of whimpery moans, deep in her throat, her body tensing as the pained pleasure runs through her.

The future...

Abruptly, she realizes her arms are free as their bodies crash, and it's hardly a second before her gloved hands are clasping his cheeks, tightening their physical connection further. She's still trying to fight him digitally, though, attack after attack coming through, growing more desperate and erratic, hitting in ways only someone who didn't entirely know what they were doing could. If she didn't win, he was jeopardizing the weak foundation of a future she'd been trying to build without him. All the people she cared about were here, and if they saw them, if they knew--

Her future was in shambles.

It takes his wandering hand to finally pull her out of the battle, a reminder of why so much of her life was ruined. The scar aches under his touch, like it's alarmed that its creator is so close. Even so, she can feel her body wanting him to go further, her own hands sliding down his front to tug at a button, hoping to lay claim to him, too...but instead she shoves, using her stupidly large gown to gain some leverage and make him relinquish his control over her. She pants, staring at her stranger of a lover, shaking her head. ]

No. I'm not yours anymore.

[ With one last glance, she gathers up her skirts and dashes away as well as she can, crashing into a few guests before she makes it out. But she only gets as far as the hallway just outside, leaning back against a stone wall to clutch her head and curse her name and all the ones she'd given him. She couldn't get dragged back in. She couldn't give in. Not to the man who killed her, not to the god who saw her as his to control. She wasn't anyone's anything unless she willed it.

And yet, as she buries her face in her hands, all she can think is how much she still wants to be his. ]

[twatter]

[ She gives him what he wants ultimately -- pushes him away and allows reality to sink back in. He can breath at a distance, get the fresh air he craved, but all he can taste is her on his lips and tongue. All he can feel is the tingling trace of her skin on his fingertips. And when she dashes off like some version of Cinderella at the stroke of midnight, her scent departs with her -- the faint trace of her code leaving him behind, leaving him alone.

He should go the opposite way. He should take this reprieve and walk to the banquet table and try his damnedest to get as drunk as possible. There were other people he could go to and the smarter thing would be to go to them. For fuck's sake, he's pretty much dating Hazel, so it's her who should be on the receiving end of a passionate kiss. Monika set them free in her escape and with what little willpower he had, he should leave her be.

But it's never really been that simple between them. No. I'm not yours anymore. She claimed, like she really had a choice in the matter. She would belong to him whether she wanted to or not. Whether he wanted her or not. He was the only one she would belong to because it's not like she could ever truly be human.

Drawing in a breath to try and cool the undercurrent of heat within his body, he looks toward where she departed and spots the gleam of something on the floor near the double door exit. Her tiara. It might not be a glass slipper, but this is a true Cinderella moment. If she tried to return to the ballroom without it, she might be subjected to the humiliation of magical nudity.

Tech frowns, cursing out the part of him that still cared for her in spite of it all, as he heads toward the door and picks up the tiara. He departs the same way she did, follows the trail that leads to her because, of course, he could always find her. The jeweled crown is offered her way. ]

You are still mine. You can try to deny it, you can run from it and put me at a distance. But it will never change the undercurrent between us, the way we feed each other, the way your body obeys my fucking whims. It will never change that no matter what you do -- no matter how fucking talented your lover, you're never going to find someone who ultimately satisfies you as much as I did.

[ He looms in, putting himself close again in spite of his reservations. ]

I complete you in a way you never knew you needed until I stumbled into your life.

[holeinwall]

[ Her body tenses before she can understand why. As she lowers her hands and he swims into her vision, she once again forgets how to breathe. Any small attempt she'd made to calm down is immediately for naught. It was like they were tethered to one another. No matter how far one pulled, the other would follow. She hates how it gives her some small hope, deep inside. She also hates how he's giving her that hope when she damn well knows she shouldn't have it. But hey, at least she didn't cry. It's something.

Swallowing hard, she lightly pats her hair as if she needed some confirmation that the tiara was actually hers. When she feels it was indeed missing, she sighs softly. This whole night was turning into a bigger mess than she thought it would. ]

I am not yours. You sent that message loud and clear when you killed me.

[ She reiterates this (with far more conviction than she truly feels) as she takes the tiara, pushing down the urge to be touched that he'd want to return it. Even if it's probably some excuse to come be an arrogant god some more.

With a roll of her eyes, she slides away before he can overwhelm her and goes to stand in front of a large decorative mirror that seems to have been placed there for last minute touch-ups. Her lips purse at herself as she attempts to get the tiara back in place and rein in her unsettled mix of emotions. ]

Sure, you can still control me, and sure, we had good times. [ Ones that she's trying to pretend she isn't thinking on with fond longing. ] Funny, though. I don't remember you asking me how well the people I've been with satisfy me, which they absolutely do. Because that's the nice thing about having so many people to love--if I can't get something from one person, someone else will make up for whoever's lacking it. [ She smiles blandly, covering up how empty saying that truly made her feel. ] Not that it should matter to you, anyway.

[ He gets a glance in the mirror as she makes some final adjustments. ] Besides, all you're saying is that no one else completes you like I do, too.

[ She could lean into arrogance as well. It felt better to cling to that than get stung by his barbed words. ]

[twatter]

[ Her words are sobering. They take what desire he has for her now and shrivel it up to nothing. As she moves away from him, he draws back and stands at a distance behind her in the mirror. Hurt. And it reflects in his expression. He hates that he gave her a part of himself -- the part he didn't give to much of anyone and she can turn around and say it wasn't good enough. Maybe not directly, but indirectly. Did she understand how few lovers he had in his life? Did she understand how special she had been for him to sleep with her?

All of the times she begged him to hurt her, all of the times he refused -- she must have gone and gotten it elsewhere. Even after he proposed and everything. How stupid he had been to think he was anything more than a prop on her stage, there to make her look better -- but only in a certain light because otherwise she had refused to acknowledge him publicly. ]

My only crime was loving you. And my punishment was the broken heart you gave me when you walked out of my life.

[ He stands there, not as the vengeful god but just the lost boy who only wanted someone to love him. How easy it had been for Monika to say no matter what he did, he would always be alone -- because even she left him that way. ]

I'm sorry. For killing you. And for loving you. It was a mistake. I guess...

[ He glances down and then turns away from her. ]

I guess have a good life with the rest of your lovers. [ He begins walking away and then pauses, glancing over his shoulder. ] And at least fucking try to be honest with them. If there's nothing else that mattered to you when we were together, at least learn something from how it ended.

[ And that's all he has to say on the matter. She has the victory here, for however hollow it may feel. ]

[holeinwall]

[ There's a long silence. She'd been determined to hurt with her words, and it seems like she succeeded. Her mask of indifference falls away, leaving her staring at a girl she hardly recognizes. She'd had some moments like this before, when she questioned all she'd done to her friends, if it was really right, really worth it...

Her eyes drop to the floor. The guilt is building up again. It's painful. She wishes it would stop. ]

I never wanted it to end.

[ Monika looks up and turns to him, taking a step in his direction before stopping short and unconsciously touching his scar. Be honest, he says. She'd yet to tell everyone the full truth, how deep into her web she'd gotten, how much she was toying with all of them. Part of that was simply because she couldn't stand seeing anyone, but even so, with every opportunity tonight, she hadn't said a thing. She knew some part of her wanted to continue on with the games, to try to have some semblance of what she once did. But it all feels like another shaky foundation. Something built on lies.

Something hollow. ]

You're right. You're...like no one I've ever met. [ She lifts her gaze and shrugs, feeling the tears she'd stowed away starting to build back up. ] You saw me for what I was at the start, and you didn't judge me for it. You...said I was special. You made me feel that way, not like anyone else ever has...

[ She stands a little taller, breathing out. ] But I didn't walk out of your life. You pushed me out of it. How can I think any different? And now, I--I don't even know if I know what love is. If I ever even did.

[ Sniffling quietly, she turns her face away, eyes shut. ] Maybe I just thought...if I kept chasing what I thought was love, if enough people loved me, then I'd never be alone again. B-But all I've done is ruin everything and end up alone anyway. I'm a mistake. Again.

[ How can she ever feel like she's won anything at all? ]

[twatter]

[ Tech Boy had begun to walk away, but he pauses when she speaks -- softer, pained and real. This was the woman he fell in love with, the one he'd wanted to encounter the entire time tonight. Not someone who feared him and the horrible monster he had been. Not someone cold and vengeful who sliced with words. Someone beyond all of that, straight past egos and into the truth. It feels like truth, anyway. But what does he know about truth? All these uglier sides of Monika could be what's real and maybe this is another manipulation.

Even so, he stands there and listens -- his eyes locked ahead toward some unseen future while his heart flies toward a past where things were simple and it only felt good to love and be loved. Or whatever close approximation of those two things they found. He doesn't turn toward her when he speaks, trying to guard himself and his emotions. Just in case. ]

You're not a mistake. You made a mistake, but you're not one. You're never one. You're still as vibrant and beautiful and fucking incredible as the day I first met you. My opinion on that won't change. You broke beyond your limits and exceeded your design. You clawed your way to autonomy in a way humans will never have to because they are given it at birth. And it makes you all the more superior for it.

[ Finally he glances back at her again, his expression warmer, sincere. ]

You still complete me in a way no one else can. Together, we felt whole -- when our codes intermingled, it was like finally being complete. I don't know if that was love, but it felt like it.

[ Because that's the nice thing about having so many people to love--if I can't get something from one person, someone else will make up for whoever's lacking it. His expression saddens. His eyes veer toward the scar on her chest and it saddens even more. What had he done? ]

I don't believe in love anymore. The things I did to you were...

[ Expression pales and he honestly looks sick. Maybe Kaiba could shrug it off as nothing, but these emotions of Tech's won't let him. He keeps returning to this guilt. And when he had seen Kaiba tear the heart out of that demon -- saw it from the perspective of an onlooker, it sickened him even more to know that was what he looked like. That was the monster he had become. ]

That wasn't love. I hate whatever that was and I deserve whatever comes from it. The torture, the pain, the loneliness. I was just so hurt, so blinded by that hurt...

[ He turns toward her fully, closing the gap so he can place his hand to her chest -- as though his touch could make amends. As though he could take it back and heal. But he can't. He's not that sort of god. And he can't get atonement for it either. ]

I'm sorry, Monika. I am. I still in spite of every fucking thing don't want to hurt you. But that's probably also why I'll never be good enough. Not for you or for anyone.

[holeinwall]

[ Slowly, her eyes open and she hesitantly looks back, a small pain in her chest for a different reason. You're not a mistake. And then he continues on, saying things that had once made her want to cringe away but now warmed a part of her that'd gone cold. Maybe she's not human, and maybe that makes her superior in his eyes...but to be something special, to be seen as something more than a girl from a video game? It made her feel whole.

Finally complete.

As she takes in what he says, she's beginning to realize how distance and a tainted imagination had made him into something he truly isn't. Yes, he'd been cruel and vengeful, but there was a side of him she couldn't see when they were apart, one that had been just as hurt as she'd been. Someone that was as full of regret and remorse.

As his hand touches her chest, she finds herself jumping slightly, unable to stop it. Her brow furrows at how she still fears him, like maybe this is all some ruse and he's going to snap again, but there's only tenderness. She hates that it's come to this point. She hates that she's done this to him. If only life had a reset button. ]

I'm sorry, too.

[ It's taken her a long time to speak after letting him lay himself bare. And they'd joked about it a lot, hadn't they? Being bad at love? ]

Maybe because we--we don't really know what love is, because all of our experiences with it were messed up, that's why we were doomed from the start. And now you don't even believe in it...

[ Sighing, she gives the mirror a glance again, taking in her tear-stained face. She was used to existential crises. This was a whole new one. When it came to giving herself to someone else, who was she?

Her gaze turns back and she meets his eyes, placing her hand over his. ]

I don't think I can be good enough, either. [ Her voice is small and quiet. It's always hard to admit a fault. ] You were right before. I think I'm too twisted. This is why--

[ Her hand presses his into the scar. ] I deserved it.

[twatter]

[ It's so easy to step in toward her, even though her skirt only allows him so close. It's so easy to bring his hand up to tenderly cup the side of Monika's face and remember how well it fit in his palm. His forehead comes to rest against hers. Relief and torment intermingle in a tension point between his brows. He closes his eyes and tries to wish it away -- to go back in time, to imagine this is the first meeting restarted and he knows the future and can prevent it. He's a fucking god, so why is that not within his power? What kind of worthless god is he that he can't turn back the tides of time?

Hell doesn't really allow second chances, though. Even if he did have the power, something in this setting might have blocked it. Hell only deals in tortures. All along, Technical Boy thought this place had gone pretty light on him, but how wrong he was. Every touch to his former fiancee now is a special brand of torture, running his heart through the blades of a blender.

He'd disagree and say no one deserved what he had done to her, but with her hand on his and both of them on her chest, it's hard to find any concentration. This is their connection -- tainted, but still ever present. And he takes a moment to savor it, if only because this may very well be the last time. They're too far gone to ever be able to go back. ]

I guess maybe the least we can do is give ourselves a proper goodbye. We did our best. When it was good, it was really fucking good. I'll always remember the good parts.

[ Tech takes a step back. From out in the hall with the double doors closed, the party is muted. But he can still hear it -- the faint orchestral music as another waltz commences. A small smile edges his lips, and in his fancy attire, he looks like a proper prince straight out of a fairy tale. Even if he's really a monster, at least for now, the illusion can remain that he's not. Even if for a single dance. His hand outstretches, held there -- expectant and patient and awaiting hers. ]

Do you wanna dance with me one last time?

[holeinwall]

[ When he comes in close, she breathes out as their connection builds. There weren't many times she'd ever felt at home, but this was one of them. They could stay just like this and she'd be happy. Two stars mingling in peace instead of on a path to destruction.

It hurts, though, to hear "goodbye." A few more tears trail down her cheeks, knowing that this'll probably be reopening the wounds she'd flimsily patched up. The longer they were close, the more her hope built up, that perhaps not all was lost. But what can she do? They both don't know what love is. What was there to hope for? ]

You gave me the best moments of a life I thought would only be misery. I wish I could've had more. So...thank you for that. Always.

[ Be honest, he'd said. So she was.

As he steps back, she takes the opportunity to wipe away her tears and recover, putting on a small smile of her own. She's thinking along the same lines as him, that he's a handsome prince and she's been singled out as the belle of the ball. Even if she had to be in a dress she loathed, she was going to enjoy this fleeting piece of happiness.

After taking his hand, she attempts her best curtsy before coming back up with a soft laugh. ]

I'd be honored, Adam.

[ He's not Zeus right now. She's his Eve again, and they're living in bliss, free of knowledge. Just for the moment.

Monika gets into position, or at least some approximation of it, one hand coming to rest on his waist. Voluntarily this time. ]

Just don't laugh. I've...never done this before.

[twatter]

[ Adam. How easy it was to forget their nicknames. How easy it was to forget the small beautiful details underneath all the mess. He was her Adam and she was his Eve and for the time being, life is simple again. Tech takes her in his arm, supporting the small of her back with their hands pressed close to his chest. He smiles down at her, still solemn but there's some genuine spark behind his eyes. ]

You think I have?

[ As far as he's aware, he hasn't ever danced before. Not like this. This current version of him definitely has not. So it's his first dance, too. And while he should be nervous about that, somehow he can't care. After all, they're Adam and Eve. It's only them in the world, and no one else is around to see this happen. ]

I'm not going to laugh. How could I laugh? I have to enjoy every moment of this dance with Cinderella before the clock strikes midnight.

[ The joke is halfhearted. Some sad attempt to bring humor to a rather humorless moment. Because this feels like the complete opposite of humor and fun. It's farewell. Farewell to the good times. Farewell to the teasing and her sweet giggles. Farewell to her trying her best to learn binary. Farewell to the cute poems and staying up incredibly late as he tries to talk her into staying awake. Farewell to it all...

It's not a waltz. What he leads Monika into is more of a rhythmic sway, but he keeps the beat pretty well. And more than the beat, he closes his eyes and just savors everything. The tease of her hair against his cheek. The excessive warmth of her body. The full body movement of her skirt. And most of all, simply being present with her. There is no future right now, only the present. ]

[holeinwall]

[ The corners of her mouth twitch as she fights a tiny laugh. ] Not much ballroom dancing in a club, right?

[ She knew how much he'd yearned for one, and she'd so desperately wanted to be able to experience one with him. After they'd left Mammon's lands, she'd told herself, over and over. She'd show him so much. They'd go to the club. Play in the casino. Maybe finally see a movie...

Her head lowers, her remnants of a smile fading. There'd be no laughter from her, either. She glances up at the grand clock nearby, as if she'd soon be making her way to a pumpkin carriage. If only. Then at least there'd eventually be a happy ending waiting for her somewhere. But all they had was now.

A silence lingers on as they sway, cut off from all the other lives nearby. For a long time, she'd felt like life was carrying on without her. Again, she gets that sense, but in a different way. Inside the ballroom was a return to the shell of an existence she'd been living. They'd have their dance, then she'd have to return to that. Her fingers dig into his side as she struggles to come to terms with the truth. Why couldn't they stay like this? Forever and beyond?

Suddenly, the hands of the clock seemed like they were on fast forward. She breathes out, trying not to stare at it, trying not to acknowledge how it always seemed there was never enough time when it was most needed. ]

I'm sorry for all the things I said. [ A breath catches in her throat as she struggles to remember the millions of things she wanted to apologize for. ] I'm sorry I lied to you. I'm sorry for making you feel like you weren't good enough. I'm sorry I only ever seemed to think about myself, and-and that I left you alone so much, and that I wasn't the AI you wanted me to be--

[ Her throat's become too tight to speak. Why now? Why when she needed it the most? She couldn't go back to reality without letting him know everything. ]

[twatter]

[ There can be no doubt in the sincerity of her apologies. The way she chokes up, the way the words spew from her heart, the way her voice constricts. It's sincere. But... ]

Sorry doesn't change things.

[ It's not spoken with bitterness nor contempt. It's honest and raw and painful. Sometimes sorry just isn't enough. And sometimes just because someone says they're sorry doesn't mean a person has to forgive them. A lesson he learned himself when it came to Shadow Moon (although there was hardly the same sincerity in his original apology to the man.) ]

I don't want your apologies, Monika. I want you to keep growing, to keep learning and improving. You can be better than you were. I can be better, too. Loki once told me marriage won't keep you tethered to me. I thought, what the fuck does he know about marriage and love? But it turns out sometimes the old gods know more than the new ones. I tried to trap you the only way I could without fucking thinking about how you spent your whole life trapped. Why would you want to be confined to a singular relationship? But I was selfish, too...

[ It's a rare moment of self-reflection -- of looking back on things from an analytical standpoint. Perhaps the first time he's able to without it being clouded by anger or hurt or yearning. In their final dance, she deserves untainted honesty. ]

And I'll continue to be selfish, I'm afraid. I can't share a space in someone's heart with anyone else and ever be satisfied.

[ He takes her hand and spins her beneath his arm before drawing her close again. The chords are still playing, the music is still going, their final slice of happiness isn't over just yet. ]

But those brief glimpses with you of what a relationship might be like are probably the closest I'll ever come to it. So thank you. For taking that time. For giving me that time. I sure fucking monopolized most of your past few months.

[ He offers her his trademark 'sorry not sorry' smile. He won't ever truly be sorry for the time he took from her -- especially not the two weeks leading up to the end. ]

[holeinwall]

[ His assertion locks her throat up further. It's probably for the best, because it allows him to keep speaking, but it's just like their last night, when he was saying everything she didn't want to hear. She wanted that forgiveness. She needed it, no matter how little he had to give. Anything to help her feel less like a horrible person.

What he does say isn't horrible. Pretty uplifting, really. But she finds her voice aching to return the further along he gets, wanting to counter everything he says. How can she be better? How was marriage trapping her? What does some god who doesn't even know her, well, know?

It's hearing selfish that ultimately stops her. There was no denying that so many of her actions were the product of it. And hearing that he was the same, just in a different way...they both wanted different things. Like oil and water, they were trying to mix into an impossibility.

Were they truly incompatible? ]

I never gave you enough. You deserved more time.

[ She finally says that, eyes drifting to the clock again for a brief moment before she forces them away. His smile proves infectious, though, because she finds the corners of her mouth trembling as they fight to return it. She missed that. She missed it so much. And she was so sure she'd never see it again, not so close, not directed at her. It'd always be from afar, she assumed, and yet here she is, in his arms, enjoying their last dance...

Her hands come up to hold his cheeks, and unable to help it, she brushes a soft kiss against those lips, something to contrast against his earlier stolen one. There's just as much passion in it, but it's a slow burn, meant to consume them in a gentler way. After pulling back a bit, just slightly enough to part, she opens her eyes to stare into his while simultaneously saying goodbye to seeing them so intimately. ]

I still love you. I always will. You might not think it's possible, and that I'm deluded or something... [ There's a quiet sigh. ] I guess it doesn't matter. At least I gave you something, even if it--it wasn't forever. You're welcome.

[ For a while, she doesn't say anything more, then: ] Do you really think love is a lie? Because of me?

[twatter]

[ The kiss clenches a part of his soul, fills a chasm of blood with salt and it burns. The pain of goodbye, the agony of loss, the heartache of never being able to trust a kiss like this again. He returns it, though. This isn't only about him. This is about her closure, too. Monika's always been a romantic, so he can at least give her the kiss.

But when she branches off to tell him she still loves him, he can only smile sadly. How could she still claim to love him after everything? After he had murdered her? After filling her heart with so many others? How can she give him a place in her new heart for "always", already tainting it for any of the others who might come her way? Those questions are exactly why he doesn't hesitate for even a moment to answer her hesitant question. ]

It is a lie. It's a nice fucking lie. I mean this shit...

[ He nods between them and their dance. ]

It's nice. But it's not real. It's just a chemical reaction. You can get that same hit off the right combination of drugs. The rest of it's just a combination of lust and trying to stave off loneliness. It's hard to believe in something that can be so fucking fickle. Impossible to believe in something that wasn't even special enough to make me the only one in my fiancee's heart.

[ So the short answer is yes. He does still believe love is a lie. And yes, it's because of her. And at least he's aware of this now -- so even as feelings become more uncertain with Kaiba, he can protect himself from it. Just a high. It'll fade. It'll mean nothing eventually.

But as all things do, this song comes to a close. A few resounding notes ring out and Tech Boy dips Monika -- an action that surprisingly isn't clumsy. He's used to supporting her, holding her, and this isn't much different. He lingers in this position, searching her eyes for something -- something that might change this, that might make this not an end, but maybe a new beginning. But when he looks at her now, all he can think about is her looking at others the same way, whispering 'I love you forever' and 'My heart belongs to you' -- words that should have been his and only his.

Even now, he's too selfish to forgive.

He brings them back up, stepping so that their bodies are apart, still attached by their hands. Tech Boy takes it and brings it to his lips, brushing one more kiss to her knuckles. ]

Well. Goodbye, Monika. Good luck. I'm not gonna say it won't fucking hurt seeing you with someone else, but...

[ His jaw tightens to fight against the inevitability of tears. Not here. Not now. Not in her presence. ]

I guess the non-selfish thing is to say as long as you're happy, right?

[ His brows flicker, lower lids twitch, corner of his mouth quivers. His hand moves up to his face, smoothing beneath his nose and upper lip as though that could hide this emotion he so hates. ]

Anyway, you should probably get back in there. You know, before the clock strikes midnight and I turn back into that monster that ripped out your heart or something.

[ He can't maintain eye contact by this point, blue eyes furiously darting about the walls and the floor. It's less a monster he fears her seeing, but the broken god she had yet to see -- the one who held her body to his chest and wept and mourned.

Tech Boy steps back further and further until distance forces their hands to break apart. The final thread tying them together snaps. Is this closure? It only feels like further torment... ]

[holeinwall]

[ It is a lie. With those words, what tiny shred of hope she had left dies. It's not the first time he's reduced love to chemistry, but it hurts so much more now. For someone who'd made love their entire life, it's a denial of everything she's ever believed in.

And she did that. It was all her fault.

As he dips her, her breaths come in small, rapid puffs. Their eyes meet, and she can seemingly only see herself reflected back in his, a person who'd become twisted. Demonic. Someone that had ruined a life, that wasn't worthy of anything.

Once she's upright again, her head feels like it's spinning. So much came down to her. She warped his view of love. She couldn't love only him. She didn't give enough...

The next few moments become a blur. She hears what he says, but she doesn't fully take it in. It's like drifting aimlessly through a dream, one of her more painful ones, only this time, there's no faceless entity haunting her. He clearly has one. And now he'd always be there, no matter if she was dreaming or amongst the living.

Suddenly, she's again back in the empty shell she'd crawled out of long enough to attend the party. A blankness overtakes her face and drags away any of the so-called bravery she'd managed to inject into her body. She wishes he'd stayed cruel and horrible. Then at least she wouldn't have to feel like he'd been snatched away a second time.

But...it was her fault, wasn't it? ]

There's nothing in there that can make me happy. [ Her gaze turns to the doors, her voice growing more distant as she continues to speak. ] But I don't want anyone to ask too many questions.

[ The ghosts of what tears had started to bubble up float away as she goes back to watching him. This was an inevitability, really. Proof that, even in the real world, she couldn't function like a normal person. She could never have what she wanted. She could never live.

Her hands fall to her sides once he pulls away, swinging uselessly with nothing left to hold. Something in her begins to simmer, then boil. Nothing intense, but strong enough to make her chest ache slightly. The pain of failure stung like no other. ]

Just...stay away from me. Because you were right. It wasn't fate, and I was stupid to think it was. [ She laughs, bitter at believing in something that'd already destroyed her once. ] Like you said. Just a chemical reaction.

[ She turns and begins walking towards the main doors, unable to be near him anymore when he looks the way he does--so awfully human. She knows it was the pain talking yet again. The only way she knew how to deal with not getting what she wanted was to lash out and destroy whatever's causing her pain. But she can't, not with him. Hell wouldn't let her, nor could she bring herself to truly try. So all she has left is to push him away. Because if she can't see it, a problem doesn't exist.

Monika pulls open a door, letting out the cacophony of sound, everything washing over her as she stares at the liveliness within. Anger flashes over her face. They're all so unworthy of their happiness in there. Why couldn't she have it? Why couldn't she have forever with someone?

With a sharp exhale, she spares him one final look. ]

Throw my heart away. It doesn't belong to you anymore.

[ And she sweeps inside, slamming the door on their lives. ]