A Wrong Turn...?

He was a creature of conflict. He was not merely split between Rudi and Rodolfo. He was split between what his instincts tell him and what he wants to view himself as. Rolf, or Rudi, or Rodolfo- these were all merely labels to an internal conflict centuries in the brewing, finally pulled up, screaming and pleading, to the surface to be viewed in all its horror and ugliness.

Mana, the Queen, the catalyst of all this madness within the boy, the man, the youth, must've enjoyed the sight of the creature she had wrought with her energy, her touch and her kisses. She was a loving mother, doting on a beloved child, encouraging it to walk- to walk towards its own falling and self-destruction, an endless spiral of it until there was hardly anything left to call a person.

Her lips against his skin felt warm, no, they felt searing. He let out helpless noises every time her lips met his soft flesh, like an animal slowly dying, like a child finding home, all at once. It was too much. It was the best thing he's ever had and the worst thing he's ever experienced all at once. Every spike of esctacy was swiftly chased on its heels as self-hatred and agony, again and again, until the two opposed feelings, rejection and acceptance, could hardly be told between each other.

It felt as if the Haruspex's every cell of his body was trying to part from itself, so strong was his reaction to her immense spiritual energy flowing through him. Even as he held her to himself, he tried to pull away, resulting in a strange movement that was essentially him pulling her into a close dance vaguely resembling some twisted idea of a waltz. Perhaps he was merely following the chaotic storms of energy he was experiencing in their bond, constantly on the move, running in circles and anti-circles (whatever those shapes were).

"What have I done to ya, sweetheart? Isn't it obvious? I've set ya' free~!"

..No...

She touched him, ran her finger down his chest, brushing past the hospital clothes to reveal pale, pale skin. From her touch, his skin cracked and fell in a false mimicry of surgery, like taking a chisel and running it down stone. Was it her, damaging him, or was it himself, damaging his own body from his confused emotions?

"I believe in a world where those who have chaos in their hearts can embrace n' find themselves open to finding the most precious gift of indulging in a world of chaos."

..Please don't...I don't want...

Why couldn't he fight back? Why didn't he want to fight back? The green mist surrounding them, affecting Mana just as it affected him, filling his heart and spirit with delight, and with it what scraps of his mind also responded with equally strong emotions of revulsion, of helpless self-hatred of his own inability to resist, his lack of strength and will to resist.

He had fought himself all this time and in the end ended up in the exact same place, with the same body, in the same life with all its past of betraying his friends, consuming them into himself, like a monster. Like a beast.

He had thought all these things in her arms, even as he pulled her into a dance, their bodies trailing mist and miasma. His lips upturned into a smile even as he was screaming inside, his jaw clenched tight to hold back his overwhelming despair and rage at himself, at her, at the entire world for placing him into this horrific situation.

""'Fer I admired ya' ability to stay ever so persistent in a reality where nothin' but hardship n' absurdism subdued yer existence to a miserable pit of woe within the confines of yer own mind."

And then she was touching him, pressing below his ribs, and he knew. And he knew.

...Stop...No!...

"n' I wish to free ya' from that enslavement ya were put under through the hands of rationality, logic n' order. I want ya' to feel that lovin' warmth, my honey~"

...No!....No!!...

Every nerve cell flashed in delight, and bliss, and euphoria. He could hear himself laughing, at some point. It was a frightened laugh, simultaneously courageous and meek, joyful and feverish. Like a sick, dying patient at the hospital laughing at the joke of a friend. Like a warlord watching the final barricades broken through to enter the enemy's final bastion.

He felt warm, and he felt human, and he felt as if he had finally gained everything he had lost. A family. A home. A place to feel as if he was with people who would have his back as he had theirs. And so long as he didn't pay attention as to what his family was, where this home was, he could be at peace. And he could be happy. And he could be happy.

But he could not look away from the truth of his allies any more than he could turn from himself- and he had tried so hard to do this, finding himself back here again, realizing his own helplessness against a chaotic, unpredictable, cruel and joyful world- but those were not his thoughts or. Perhaps they were? When had her words begun to make sense, echoing in the fragmented, screaming, delightfully clashing motivations in his mind?

When did he stop pulling away from her?

Mana was intoxicating. She was intoxication itself, flowing into him, and within him, becoming him- redefining who he was. And he tried to resist- but even his resistance was also embracing her view. His rejection of her, his acceptance of her, these were the one and the same. In fact, he had lost the moment Rudi agreed to talk to her, instead of running away like his instincts had told- but even before that, he was helpless. He had lost even before Rudi agreed. Perhaps when he caught her eye. Yes, the moment she held interest in him, he had lost.

And he still could not help but fight her words, her speech, her loving touches and soft, loud, motherly voice. They boomed through him like shockwaves through water, barely rippling his surface but instantly killing life caught in the invisible, inevitable waves of energy underneath. He was dying.

He held her close, and kissed her neck and jaw with his chapped lips, got his blood dripping on her as he breathed in her heady scent. She smelled like dissolution of all things- identity, stability, order, provenance. Mana smelled like home, and she smelled like the darkness that a home should protect onesself from. Her skin was soft under his own, a delight to touch and be touched. He could be with her forever. The thought made him want to puke, simultaneously.

"Tell me: how do ya' feel? Do ya' feel it? Do ya' feel that power n' release? It's what myself n' the family of Eris can offer ya, Rolf. All ya' have to do..."

...No!!...NO! Don't call me by that name!...

Yes, Rolf. His name, called by his mother in the past and the present. When Mana called him this, she changed something about his perception and his memory that he couldn't quite put his hand on in the moment, but he would realize to his horror and his disdain in the future. She had inserted herself into his past as well as his present, and the mother he knew was Mana, and the mother he remembered remained shrouded in a green mist, warm and sweet and comforting, and horrific on a whole new level all at once.

Mana was warm around him, he noted clinically. Her lips were on his neck and, yes, she was also biting him. Her teeth sank in easily, too easily, His flesh was disturbingly easy to tear, and parted within her mouth like a perfectly cooked steak, melted on her tongue like a cake freshly rested and ready to eat. In short, he tasted delicious to her, and he felt delight in her consumption of him- and he also hated his delight.

But it was his mother and what devoted, beloved son would refuse the affections of his very own mother. His hands moved, cracking and splintering with cracks so deep that the bone and tendon could be seen flashing white. The hand had dozens of bones within it, and every one of them could be seen moving in tandem as he moved to embrace her fully, one hand delicate in her hair as he held her to him as she held him in return. He was trembling, so full of euphoria, bliss, despair, and hatred all at once. It felt as if he had been tied to multiple horses pulling in different directions, and his flesh was being ripped apart.

"...is reach out n' leave ya self open to me. Ya' don't need to do anything else but give into yer' own desire that are so conflicted that even I can't help but laugh at its absurdity."

He moved to laugh, and nod, and kiss her forehead and nose. His name was Rolf and he was happy, and he was home, and he opened his mouth as if to giggle and what came out was a scream.


Rolf's hands, cracking, moved from her hair and her back. They slid up and down her skin, as if they could not bear to be too distant from her. As if he wanted to be part of her- and he did, in some delirious, self-hating part of him did want to as if meld their flesh together, to hide within her body away from the world and away from himself. His hands moved to her throat. Even as he was smiling to her, his hands squeezed down with all his immense strength.

He rejected her with everything he had, moving to strangle his own mother even as the Seal of Eris blossomed on his back like a martyr lifted up onto the cross. Rolf hated her, and hated everything she represented, and he despised her with every cell in his being. He did this as strongly as she loved her, as he wanted to kiss her feet and never be away from her side again, protect and cherish her.

Like a priest kneeling in the gore of an animal, examining the still-warm innards for pieces of truth, Rolf collapsed against her chest. He wept bitterly even as his hands remained locked around her neck, even as he smiled broadly and innocently. So confused was he, disoriented, bliss and rage intertwined.

The world around the two began to collapse in of itself, a representation of the chaos in Rolf's mind. Mana herself, being more powerful than him, was immune to his effects, but the rest of the world around him was less fortunate. The ground cracked and split, and began to flow like water. The air grew thin in some places, thick as morning fog in others, and others still coalesced into rain. The buildings around him began to waver and snap at their very foundation, and yet did not fall to gravity- except in places where they did, and even as they fell their solidity continued to break apart, as if concentrated dust hitting a breeze.

The land around him was tearing itself apart in every way, dissolving into nothing, into each other.

Rolf screamed no even a he knew he had already accepted the offer laid before him.

Coding By: [THEFROST]