[The furnace is a horrible place to take a nap, haven't you read the locations page? There is nothing here but the scent of chemicals and ash.
The music room has a bunch of weird faces taped to the pipes of the organ in the back, but they look like they've been there a while. Wonder who did that. You think, for a moment, that you can hear the chime of a music box. Your gut tightens.
Somehow, your guilt deepens.
...
The chapel bathes the room in the light of the early day, coating the pews in color. It's so quiet. Maybe a good place to collect your thoughts.
...
There is someone on the ground, crumpled between the altar and the front pews, a flash of white and orange in the reflection of the windows.]
She's face down against the floor, her hair loose and in a wavy, splayed mess, fanned across the floor. From how the white fabric of her dress and the motion of her hair sit, it looks as though she may have been on the raised steps to the pulpit before falling.
Perhaps a better person would rush to her side. Someone kind, filled with empathy would worry for her wellbeing immediately. Someone with a soft heart might even be concerned that she's dead.
But Akechi is none of those things, so he maintains the same pace until he reaches her side. He won't even crouch down once he gets there, instead watching her with an utterly blank expression on his face.]
You're not dead. [Despite the fact that she clearly isn't breathing.] Can you hear me?
Her eyes are open but completely unfocused, clouded and glassy. She looks more like a doll toppled off the highest shelf, discarded.
If one did not know better, she might look the part of a corpse. But the color of the skin, the size of the pupils, the lack of rigidity... it absolutely won't fool Akechi.]
[Anyone who hasn't spent a week in this hellish mansion, perhaps. But even without all of this, there's still the fact that the sisters would have retrieved her corpse by now if she was truly dead.
So, he stares at her. Stares at her some more. Snaps his fingers in front of her face.
And if nothing happens, then he will sigh and scoop her up so he can sit her down on one of the pews.]
There's a fatigued flash of confusion as Luna's eyes finally blink. Where...
...
If Akechi thought that guilt was going to go away
well
it hasn't
As Luna slowly rights herself and tries to move loose strands of hair out of her face, a crushing need for forgiveness starts to grow in her chest, her breathing coming slow and shallow. The sins at the cost of the world now pile themselves on her shoulders, judgmental and unforgiving.
Her arms slowly close in to clutch herself, nails digging into her arms as she leans forward against her knees, face drawing up tight with a sorrow she can't contain.
[There's a flutter of surprise, of fear at the sound of his voice. But she doesn't turn to look at him, inhaling slowly as she tries to straighten herself back up. Her voice stays quiet.]
[... Fear, huh? Well, he can't say he's surprised after his outburst. But he doesn't relish it when he recognizes the emotion for what it is. If anything, there's a flicker of hurt — and then numbness.]
A while. [She's not looking at him, but he gestures at the spot where he found her.] I don't know what you did to yourself, but you were on the floor.
...I'm sorry. I wasn't feeling well this morning. I hope I...
[She turns to take a glance, to dare and see what kind of expression he has on his face--
And her eyes instantly widen. It's a completely different flavor of fear that clenches down, one that she can't fight. Why should she? His face.... what happened to his face?
She's instantly on her feet, backing away from him carefully until her legs hit the pew in the row adjacent, her eyes never leaving him.]
[Succinct. No need to offer a complicated answer for a simple question. Though... He lifts a hand to his face, touching one of the bruises. It hurts, but it feels normal, so... Huh.]
You fell asleep here, and now you see something strange on my face. Something that terrifies you. Am I right so far?
[She won't stop him from leaving, unfortunately, as glued to the spot as she is, hands gripping that pew like it's the only thing keeping her on her feet. It feels like the chapel is the only safe place...
I thought about leaving. You woke up before I could.
[A blatant lie and a clear contradiction of what he said earlier. Is he even trying? Oh, well.]
I'll see you tomorrow.
[If she's not stopping him, then he will do as he said and leave. He... doesn't want to be around her if she's like this, anyway. Especially not when they're still connected to each other.]
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The chapel, music room and furnace will be his next stop.]
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The music room has a bunch of weird faces taped to the pipes of the organ in the back, but they look like they've been there a while. Wonder who did that. You think, for a moment, that you can hear the chime of a music box. Your gut tightens.
Somehow, your guilt deepens.
...
The chapel bathes the room in the light of the early day, coating the pews in color. It's so quiet. Maybe a good place to collect your thoughts.
...
There is someone on the ground, crumpled between the altar and the front pews, a flash of white and orange in the reflection of the windows.]
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Calmly, he approaches the person crumpled on the ground.]
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She's face down against the floor, her hair loose and in a wavy, splayed mess, fanned across the floor. From how the white fabric of her dress and the motion of her hair sit, it looks as though she may have been on the raised steps to the pulpit before falling.
She isn't moving.
She isn't breathing.]
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Perhaps a better person would rush to her side. Someone kind, filled with empathy would worry for her wellbeing immediately. Someone with a soft heart might even be concerned that she's dead.
But Akechi is none of those things, so he maintains the same pace until he reaches her side. He won't even crouch down once he gets there, instead watching her with an utterly blank expression on his face.]
You're not dead. [Despite the fact that she clearly isn't breathing.] Can you hear me?
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God, what should you do? What can be done? Can you even hear from wherever you are?
Is this punishment for sins?
...
Would you like to stare at the back of her head some more, Akechi?]
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And no.
He can only stare at the back of her head for so long. A moment passes, and he crouches down next to her, reaching forward to flip her over.]
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Her eyes are open but completely unfocused, clouded and glassy. She looks more like a doll toppled off the highest shelf, discarded.
If one did not know better, she might look the part of a corpse. But the color of the skin, the size of the pupils, the lack of rigidity... it absolutely won't fool Akechi.]
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So, he stares at her. Stares at her some more. Snaps his fingers in front of her face.
And if nothing happens, then he will sigh and scoop her up so he can sit her down on one of the pews.]
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With her picked up properly in his arms, Akechi may hear an incredibly faint hum and click, hum and click, like a damaged harddrive on a computer.]
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The faint noise doesn't go unnoticed. Though, he's unsure what to do about that. If he should, could, and wants to do anything about that.
...
Hm. Well, guess he's depositing her in one of the pews... and staring.]
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He'll feel it before he sees any movement, that spark in the back of his head. It's clouded, but finally present.]
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He's tempted to leave before that spark transforms into full fledged consciousness.
But in the end, he walks to the other end of the pew and sits down. Watching. Waiting.]
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There's a fatigued flash of confusion as Luna's eyes finally blink. Where...
...
If Akechi thought that guilt was going to go away
well
it hasn't
As Luna slowly rights herself and tries to move loose strands of hair out of her face, a crushing need for forgiveness starts to grow in her chest, her breathing coming slow and shallow. The sins at the cost of the world now pile themselves on her shoulders, judgmental and unforgiving.
Her arms slowly close in to clutch herself, nails digging into her arms as she leans forward against her knees, face drawing up tight with a sorrow she can't contain.
God, forgive her.
God, please forgive her.]
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He watches her for a moment longer and then, if she hasn't taken notice of him:]
Is guilt the only thing you're capable of feeling?
[He's tired of it.
But at least he no longer has to pretend he's a good person. Luna already knows what a disgrace he is.]
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Akechi...
...How long have you been sitting there?
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A while. [She's not looking at him, but he gestures at the spot where he found her.] I don't know what you did to yourself, but you were on the floor.
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...I'm sorry. I wasn't feeling well this morning. I hope I...
[She turns to take a glance, to dare and see what kind of expression he has on his face--
And her eyes instantly widen. It's a completely different flavor of fear that clenches down, one that she can't fight. Why should she? His face.... what happened to his face?
She's instantly on her feet, backing away from him carefully until her legs hit the pew in the row adjacent, her eyes never leaving him.]
W.... W-what do you want??
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Hm.
He remains seated right where he is, calm despite her obvious fear. Something... isn't right here. That didn't feel... normal?]
Nothing. [A pause. He tilts his head, studying her.] What's wrong with you?
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...
She braces a hand on the pew behind her, letting out a shaking breath.]
You... you are Akechi, aren't you?
Your face is... different...
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[Succinct. No need to offer a complicated answer for a simple question. Though... He lifts a hand to his face, touching one of the bruises. It hurts, but it feels normal, so... Huh.]
You fell asleep here, and now you see something strange on my face. Something that terrifies you. Am I right so far?
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[There's a strong pull back towards that guilt, though it's so intense that it seems a little too out of place.
She looks toward the confessional booth as her arms fold in front of her, hugging herself as though it might make her transgressions feel lighter.]
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[Like pieces slotting into place, realization dawns on him.]
You're experiencing one of those strange effects. Your perception of things will return to normal by tomorrow.
[And with that, he stands up, taking a step in the opposite direction.]
Well, then... I'll take my leave. I'm sure you don't want to be around my "demonic" self any longer.
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[She won't stop him from leaving, unfortunately, as glued to the spot as she is, hands gripping that pew like it's the only thing keeping her on her feet. It feels like the chapel is the only safe place...
But she will call out after him.]
W-why did you wait for me?
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I thought about leaving. You woke up before I could.
[A blatant lie and a clear contradiction of what he said earlier. Is he even trying? Oh, well.]
I'll see you tomorrow.
[If she's not stopping him, then he will do as he said and leave. He... doesn't want to be around her if she's like this, anyway. Especially not when they're still connected to each other.]
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