Naixatloz. It's some kind of cult that's running itself in plain sight. I can't say I'm against coping mechanisms, if they work for you -- but only if they're not hurting you and everyone else around you.
No, because it's not real. They tried to infect people with a virus that made them act irratically and dangerously, which was their idea of "forcing people to act outside of their code."
[ she doesn't sound impressed by it. ]
Like I said -- having a coping mechanism is one thing. Using that as an excuse to hurt people is where it goes from harmless believe to something dangerous that needs to be stopped.
[Oh whoops they touched a comic page because they were distracted talking to Tama! You get this written out so you don't see what the canon is.]
---
You're on your back, staring up at the sky. Your breaths come quick, your blood pooling around you. It's fine, you say to yourself, your healing factor will take care of that shortly. But healing from the physical wounds won't help your soul pick itself up again.
That damn detective walks closer, somehow still on his feet. He's bleeding as badly as you are, and yet he can still keep moving. It's almost annoying.
"Kill me." It sounds wrong, you've always been so terrified of death, and yet the weight of your failures makes those fears seem distant. "There's no way I can keep my promise now."
You glance over to the small box that has fallen next to you, which also has your blood on it. You can't quite see it, but you know exactly what is in there. You can practically hear the ticks of the second hand now.
"At least let me atone with my life," you plead.
"Very well." The detective walks closer and steps on your chest, causing you to gasp out in surprise.
It hurts so bad, but the tears welling up at the corners of your eyes aren't from pain. Memories dance behind your eyes, except they're not really memories. They're more like images of what could have been, of you living a happy life at the orphanage, of you excelling at your studies and earning the praise of the orphanage's director. It's the life you had always wished for but could never have. People like you never get a happy ending.
'I'm sorry, Mr. Director. I'm sorry I couldn't be the kind of student worthy of your praise.'
But the man abruptly removes his foot from your chest and turns his back to you. "Forget it."
"Why...?"
The detective speaks with a calm voice. "Helping the suicidal along isn't my job at the Agency. Fleeing the past and being frightened of yourself is a battle of its own."
You can feel your body start to stitch itself back together. Your heart sinks as you feel it; death can't claim you now. You're going to heal and live this.
The detective stops walking away, and turns to look at you once more. His eyes are fierce, a stark contrast to his calm posture.
"Cough up your blood, Tiger. Cough it up and move on. And if, after fleeing your cowardice, you fall defeated..."
Suddenly there is a scary look in that detective's eyes. Like a monster on the hunt.
[ what do you say exactly? whoops, sorry for seeing the time you apparently almost gave up on life until some detective guy tells you to move on or he'll laugh. what a pep talk. ]
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That's...
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Naixatloz. It's some kind of cult that's running itself in plain sight. I can't say I'm against coping mechanisms, if they work for you -- but only if they're not hurting you and everyone else around you.
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[ she doesn't sound impressed by it. ]
Like I said -- having a coping mechanism is one thing. Using that as an excuse to hurt people is where it goes from harmless believe to something dangerous that needs to be stopped.
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It sounds awful. Did you and Ryuki stop them in the end?
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We're working on it. Like... seriously working on it. [ literally running out of time but it's fiiiine. ]
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CW: suicidal mentions
[Oh whoops they touched a comic page because they were distracted talking to Tama! You get this written out so you don't see what the canon is.]
---
You're on your back, staring up at the sky. Your breaths come quick, your blood pooling around you. It's fine, you say to yourself, your healing factor will take care of that shortly. But healing from the physical wounds won't help your soul pick itself up again.
That damn detective walks closer, somehow still on his feet. He's bleeding as badly as you are, and yet he can still keep moving. It's almost annoying.
"Kill me." It sounds wrong, you've always been so terrified of death, and yet the weight of your failures makes those fears seem distant. "There's no way I can keep my promise now."
You glance over to the small box that has fallen next to you, which also has your blood on it. You can't quite see it, but you know exactly what is in there. You can practically hear the ticks of the second hand now.
"At least let me atone with my life," you plead.
"Very well." The detective walks closer and steps on your chest, causing you to gasp out in surprise.
It hurts so bad, but the tears welling up at the corners of your eyes aren't from pain. Memories dance behind your eyes, except they're not really memories. They're more like images of what could have been, of you living a happy life at the orphanage, of you excelling at your studies and earning the praise of the orphanage's director. It's the life you had always wished for but could never have. People like you never get a happy ending.
'I'm sorry, Mr. Director. I'm sorry I couldn't be the kind of student worthy of your praise.'
But the man abruptly removes his foot from your chest and turns his back to you. "Forget it."
"Why...?"
The detective speaks with a calm voice. "Helping the suicidal along isn't my job at the Agency. Fleeing the past and being frightened of yourself is a battle of its own."
You can feel your body start to stitch itself back together. Your heart sinks as you feel it; death can't claim you now. You're going to heal and live this.
The detective stops walking away, and turns to look at you once more. His eyes are fierce, a stark contrast to his calm posture.
"Cough up your blood, Tiger. Cough it up and move on. And if, after fleeing your cowardice, you fall defeated..."
Suddenly there is a scary look in that detective's eyes. Like a monster on the hunt.
"...I will step over you and laugh."
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also yikes. ]
... Um.
[ what do you say exactly? whoops, sorry for seeing the time you apparently almost gave up on life until some detective guy tells you to move on or he'll laugh. what a pep talk. ]
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It's alright. I don't- it's not your fault. It just happened.
[They are aware of how HM that memory is.]
Fortunately it didn't include the 15 minutes right after that...that was even worse.
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Worse than that? That was already pretty bad, Tiger.
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[nyeh]
He was...it wasn't a good organization by any means, and he had a lot of enemies. Nakahara-san and I were the ones to look after him.
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ALSO MORE NYEH. ]
The only "not good" organisations I can think of that require bodyguards are shady and possibly linked to mafia. [ ... ] Nakahara-san?
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[It's definitely a mafia.]
That's one of my co-workers. He's like the right-hand-man to the boss.
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Well that's a yes if I ever heard one. A right hand of the mafia... that's something. You must be kinda high up yourself?
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I didn't have a lot of power. I was more like a personal bodyguard.
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