![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Basement Bonanza Log
The House
The house is much like the rest of the housing around it. Victorian style with some side yards, an outside that's desperately in need of paint, and wild, fancy architecture. Along the side is a fenced yard containing a small kitchen garden, complete with a recently added chicken coop in the back.
The front door leads to a small foyer, whereas the side door by the garden goes straight into the kitchen. In the kitchen, there will be a number of foods available for anyone chipping in to snack on, with options for vegetarians and meat-eaters alike. (No blood, sorry vampires, but if you get peckish you might find someone willing to let you have a bite.) Shinjiro will aggressively shoo away anyone who shows up just to get food without actually contributing. It's for people who help only!!
The interior is weird, as to be expected. They've made it mostly liveable, most of the furniture in the living spaces in new, but there's still Victorian Classics such as too many patterns and portraits of strangers on the wall, and bad wallpaper in surprisingly cozy places. There's even a restroom on the ground floor, complete with fireplace by the tub. People taking a break are welcome to tool around on the ground floor, where things are markedly more normal. Any attempts to go upstairs, where the residents bedrooms are, will be dissuaded.
There's a dog to pet (Koromaru, an incredibly intelligent white shiba inu) or a Petal Wolf (Bela) or, if you want to risk a few fingers, Fie's hyena (Alfin). The hyena occasionally breaks out into mad giggles in other people's voices, occasionally parroting contextless statements in perfect mimicry of the people who live there. Scrounging around somewhere will be Louis's cat, Juniper, and then there's the coop full of chickens outside, a snapping turtle in the pond...
But you people aren't here for the relatively normal living space.
THE BASEMENT.
The air is cooler in the basement, and with that soft scent of wet stone. It's not disgusting or overwhelming, despite how locked up and sealed the area had been, and for who knows how long. More than anything else, it's just dark. They've carried a few magitech lanterns down to the foot of the stairs, at least, in initially scoping it out to try and see what's down there: and even from just stepping off the stairs, it's clear to see that this is some sort of wild magical hoarder situation.
Walls are packed with everything from displays of oddities and curiosities to books and containers of liquids, the labels long since faded and peeled, to even rusted lockboxes, worryingly rectangular and human-lengthed, each with stiff, sturdy locks. In another corner, there's more shelves cluttered and overflowing with wet specimens preserved in jars. Many are completely unidentifiable. Many are absolutely identifiable, and it's unclear which is worse. There's everything from animals to plants to fish to even pieces of monsters or humans/witches alike.
Scattered throughout, there's lumpy sheets covering what can only be assumed to be furniture, as well as household items, baubles, trinkets, books, scrolls, and just general things crammed in any and every nook and cranny that can be found. If there was any sort of organization, it was lost well before the prior owner stopped their collecting.
In one corner, there's an iron spiral staircase that just leads into the ceiling, going nowhere. A few iron Maidens and sarcophagi can be found stored away, some of them haphazardly fallen over.
It's absolute chaos of junk layered on top of junk, pinned down by even more junk. And it's clearly going to take a lot of trips up and down those stone stairs to even begin to unearth some of the wild things stashed away.
Maybe if you're lucky, you'll unearth a friend to help light your way.
The Stuff.
I've gone ahead and written up some examples for people to run wild with-- and for anything else, feel free to either make things up, OR request something in the top thread!
Some of the Major Attractions of the Basement include:
An Iron Maiden. - Unlike many others, there's no spikes visible within. In fact, it looks almost welcoming. There's a faint enchantment to it, gently pulling at the senses of whomever gets too close. It's plush, and soft inside. Doesn't it look warm? The rest of the basement is so musty and damp and cold. Surely taking a rest would be fine.
Once someone steps into it, however, the doors close shut, and the victim is forced to rewatch their most embarrassing memory. When said memory has played out, however, they are released, no worse for the wear, and immune to the Maiden's Seduction for the next several days. Good thing you're the only one who saw that memory..... right??
A helpful (if creepy) teapot. - This teapot has one job, and it will perform it. It will serve you tea. It will not stop until it has served you tea. No, it doesn't even know what tea is. It also doesn't seem to care if you have a container to hold a beverage or not. It. Will. Serve. You. Tea.
...However, who knows what liquid is actually within it. Feel free to use this skittering, crawling friend for anything. It could be as benign as incessantly following your character like an annoying and needy dog. It could be as horrifying as using force and chitinous claws to make your character ingest something. (Which could be delicious tea. Or could be anything else. Up to you!)
A speaker of secrets. - A jarringly hideous piece of taxidermy, the ravens screech the secrets of whomever touches it. Sometimes they're wrong, though. It's anyone's guess if they're yelling your deepest secrets, or if they're just making things up. Anyway, here's hoping whoever you're with doesn't just think you're using it as an excuse. (Or, if what they speak is true, hopefully people believe your excuse. Good luck carrying this thing all the way up and through the house.)
Vaguely Insulting Dishware. - What it says on the tin. The text seems to shift and change to insult you, specifically, and often times very passive aggressively.
A beautiful, floral chair - Like a flower in full bloom, this is another object that anyone nearby could find themselves magically drawn towards. It even smells soft and sweet- almost like fresh rain and honeysuckle. It's pristine looking, in comparison to all the objects around it, covered with dust and debris, and looks soft and pillowy and inviting. It's wide enough that someone could crawl onto and drape themselves across it.
At which point the petals will pull closed, enveloping them in a sweet cocoon of which they come out.... different. The effects are, as always, up to the player, as is the duration of them. (Transmutation spells are finite, of course, and the effects aren't strong enough to last more than a few days.)
A giant crystal. - It'll take a team to move this humongous chunk of rock-- Or maybe just a duo of dragon or chimera. The first person to touch it, however, will find that it is not only reflective, but it projects. The light hitting it is projected in prisms, and all take a form based on the person who touches it. This could be a warped, twisted reflection showing how one thinks of themself. It could be a projection of deepest fantasies. It could just be whatever you're thinking at the moment. Or maybe it's a mockery. Play around at your hearts content!
Potions of any and all type! - You're not the type to just drink mysterious liquids in someone's basement (Unless you are, in which case, go for it!) but so many of these are cracked and worn. It's entirely possible some of them work on contact or inhalation. The effects can be almost anything, from Alice in Wonderland style shrinking and growing, to floating or glowing or transmuting. Perhaps one is a mood enhancer! Another could be poison. And a third could make the tips of your fingers grow hair. It's a mixed bag.
Cursed jewelry of any and all types - Same thing as the potions, these can be enchanted to have effects as minor as making your hair always look perfect (though there's a smell of cod liver that won't go away--) to as major as clamping in and biting through the skin, drinking your blood to fuel its dark powers. (Said dark powers could be anything from animatronic taxidermy coming alive to mimic your every move, to a spell to charm everyone around you, to the ability to speak with termites.) Again, go wild! And if you have trouble getting that jewelry off, there's gotta be some bolt cutters somewhere around here.... right?
There is MUCH MUCH ELSE that can be found! If you would like to be assigned a random Thing, feel free to give me the general vibe of what you're wanting, and I'll come up with something crazy for you! If you would like more than one thing, THAT IS FINE TOO!
FINAL OOC NOTES
In a list format because i'm lazy:
--NO EFFECT IN THE BASEMENT CAN BE GAMEBREAKING. Mind control, dreamwalking, and memory alteration are no-go.
--The contents of the unenchanted books in the basement are mostly nonsense or boring, but you can absolutely find some sort of burn book with hot deets on (non-plot) NPCs
--Any effect will eventually wear off. The process can be expedited with a witch. It's your choice how skilled that witch needs to be.
--"But susan someone else in a previous thread already took care of the item i was gonna use!" it's magic there can be two of them. or it can teleport itself repeatedly back into the basement. i'm not going to keep track and time isn't real.
--Mark any explicit content, plzkthx.
--Let me know if your character is enough of a jerk to try going to the second floor of the house. because a witch lives here and nearly all of them are mistrustful as hell so you know that's not gonna work out. (I'll let you know exactly how, if your character would try it.)
--If you're gonna die, talk to the mods about it first. if you're gonna kill anyone then double talk to the mods about it first.
--Go wild like you graduated from crazy go nuts university
And most importantly:
--FEEL FREE TO ASK ME ANY QUESTIONS! I'm available in the top comments here, though you are welcome to PM me, or shoot me a DM on discord (Soozaphone#3966), or shoot me a private plurk (
Momo | IDOLiSH7 (spoilers for i7 second beat onwards b/c momo memories/fantasies)
(i. the perception edition)
[When Momo first comes across the strange crystal in the cleanup, he knows he's not going to be able to do much about it himself, but there is quite a lot of stuff around it that needs moving. Boxes of old potions, shattered remains of gems that were used as magic ingredients...it's quite a time. Of course, it's hard to get to some of it without touching the gem on the way, too, so it's maybe five seconds into getting at the surrounding junk that he first does it.
The faint light the gem emits when it "projects" something out is probably enough to attract attention, but by the time anyone else comes to help, Momo has his head firmly focused the direction of the junk cleanup. About ten feet behind him, sitting in the light of the crystal, is a shadowy wolf about the size a person would be if crouched in that position, that could almost be mistaken for a Shade at first glance besides its lack of aggression. Its eyes aren't quite white, either, though they are glowing - it's difficult to tell what the actual base colour is as a result.
Regardless, when Momo hears someone nearby, he calls without turning his head.] Could you give me a hand over here? Make sure you don't get close to that little guy.
[He sounds cheery as ever, but there doesn't appear to be much reason to avoid the wolf. Unless it's not as calm as it appears to be right now, maybe?
It seems to be pretty much entirely focused on Momo for the moment, though. Almost disturbingly so.]
(ii. fantasies, the less spicy version)
[Soon enough, Momo gets used to just bumping the crystal working around it and kind of stops caring what it's throwing out when he does, because so far it's mostly either been silly or something easily ignored. So he is incredibly not paying attention when it switches tack and decides to flip over to throwing a fantasy against the nearest clear patch of wall instead of parodies or current thoughts or the wolf.
Anyone who's met Yuki or seen him in Momo's memories previously will recognise the silver-haired subject of this particular fantasy, but the broader scene is a bit...questionable. There's what looks like birdcage bars in the background, surrounding what would otherwise be a plush and lavish bedroom and ruining the soft image. Also ruining the soft image is the pretty golden chain that in this case is binding Yuki's wrists together, and the dull eyes and obedient smile that speaks of probably some kind of mind control.
And then there's Momo, unbound and unaffected with his arms wrapped gently around the other man as if handling glass, a protective and encompassing motion. The smile on his face is more contented than anything else, as if satisfied something has been accomplished like this, like it's not for himself but for something else. Nonetheless, it probably looks Extremely Weird to any onlookers and Momo appears blissfully unaware of its broadcast as he turns his head only far enough to peek at who's come by.]
What's up? [He largely seems concerned with whether they're looking for a new spot to clean.]
(iii. fantasies, the version with spicy implications)
[The other fantasy that might be run across here is...kind of better, kind of worse. There's a bed in the projected image, with three men on it. Nothing is happening except sleeping, though there's a distinct lack of clothes on shoulders left uncovered by the blanket that has some Implications.
The middle person is obviously Momo. On one side of him is Yuki's delicate, long-haired form. On the other...is a blue-haired man most won't recognise unless they chanced upon Momo's long-ago memory of fighting on stage, of the bandmate whose hair had been much shorter back then. This man and Yuki are kind of hugging each other in their sleep, intentionally collecting Momo in the middle of it, and Momo is both the single one awake and the single one who looks so bright red he might just combust on the spot. His red-nailed hands are curled against his lower face in an uncharacteristically shy and demure manner, absolutely nothing like the energetic, bombastic air he tends to carry himself with here.
He is, in fact, unlucky enough to spot this one when greeting a new helper, initially glancing over as he offers,] I could use an extra pair of ha--
[And then he realises what he's seeing and literally shrieks in embarrassment, eyes wide as he leaps away from contact with the crystal like he's been burnt in the hopes it'll dispel the image.
Spoilers: it does not.]
[[*Since this is all caused by the one object, more than one of these prompts may be wrapped into one thread if so desired!]]
--
[b: radio killed the video star, a.k.a. you thought you'd escaped memshare but it was i, DI...scount memshare*]
[Once Momo decides to get the hell away from that crystal lest he be embarrassed further, he ends up in an entirely different part of the room clearing some shelves. There's a surprisingly compact for its time (but still heavy as all hell if someone tries to get it down) radio sitting up just barely out of reasonable reach, giving the occasional crackle but otherwise seeming relatively benign. Once someone besides Momo gets near enough to it as well, though, it spits out a mix of seemingly gibberish fragments that might be snatches of speech - pieces of conversations that took place in memory, strong thoughts someone has had now or in the past - it's taken some and mixed them together initially, but once it's had a moment to adjust it will begin spitting clear fragments of conversation from the memories of one or other party near the radio. It seems to go back and forth between each party, sometimes only after one conversation but sometimes after a few at a time, and while it doesn't seem able to be programmed in any way if someone tries, if someone directs a question to the other party, the radio may tune into something that answers or relates to the question.
While it's just crackling through that initial round of gibberish, though, Momo glances up at it with a faintly concerned look.]
...Is it just me, or did some of that sound familiar?
[[*If tagging this prompt, please let me know if you prefer silly, serious, or mixed/whatever the hell in terms of mood! Also feel free to pull the radio into your own TLs if you want.]]
--
[c: feed me--wait wrong cursed flower]
(i. take one, towards the end of the cleanup)
[Momo does technically have a ward against mind-whammying type things, but the freaky flower chair is just tempting enough on its own merits to get him to make a choice he knows he will probably regret later.
Or immediately. Because once the chair has done its thing, it opens up again and he rolls off it...five inches tall and fuzzy and yes he's literally just turned into a nubby chibi stuffed toy version of himself. He bounces off the ground a bit when he hits it, wiggling his little legs around in a way that should be cute but is moderately disturbing in the context of just having been turned into a living toy.]
...I knew this was a bad idea! [Amazingly, he still sounds exactly like himself despite it coming from a tiny fuzz creature, and flails a bit to get the attention of anyone nearby.] Can you put me back on the chair, please? Or at least put me on my feet...I don't know how to move properly like this...
(ii. take two, when things are wrapping up)
[Once he gets back on the chair, either through being put there or by Sheer Determination, he comes out shaped like himself again! Almost. Kind of.
Shaped like himself except the fact that he's now bearing fluffy wolf ears and tail, canines even longer than his are usually, and his red nails extended into just as painted claws. He basically looks like the kind of carefully unmonstrous werewolf that just walked out of a werewolf romance novel as opposed to the ones that exist here, and while he bites his lip a bit when he reaches up to feel his ears, it is undoubtedly better than the last attempt.]
...You know what, this is fine. I'll just embrace my inner sexy werewolf for a while, I guess. [He laughs like that's a joke and not almost entirely literal.]
--
[d: wildcard]
[[If you want to play around with anything else, feel free to hit me up at
b
"I don't want to die."]
Ah...? [He's still not used to magical artifacts like this.]
[ooc: Something serious?]
serious it is!
"This is how your life is going to end, Momo. What do you think?"
And the reply, that is indeed Momo's voice in surprising confidence, crackles out before the radio falls out of tune again. "I want to know what you think. Adding to your trail of sour grapes...is it fun?"
Momo lets out a sharp breath through his teeth, as if resigned.] Not again. I guess if it happened once, there was no reason something else couldn't do it.
[He'll take the memories not including visuals this time, or being the whole entire memory, for that matter.]
no subject
Sorry... Should I go? If this isn't something you want to share, I'll go.
no subject
[Sieg's end sounds a bit more...personal, almost. When the radio drops out of tune and comes back to Momo's side, it begins with the same unpleasant voice as last time.
"Although, if you have a change of heart and start begging for your life..."
It's hard to tell how separate it might be from the last snatch of conversation until Momo's reply, badly slurred and snarled as if he's extremely drunk, making it clear a bit of time had passed. "Shove it, shithead..."
Momo kind of ignores his own end of things to tilt his head towards Sieg. It's easier to talk about others than himself.] Three years?
[He would've assumed three more years in any other situation, but given where he is he's not going to discount the possibility that it was just three years full stop.]
no subject
Who's that guy? [It slips out before he can really stop himself, and he frowns to himself.] Of course, you don't need to answer.
My... body wasn't constructed for durability.
no subject
As for the identity question, Momo lets out a huff as if he's extremely over the person being discussed.] Ryou-san. Used to be a really powerful figure in the industry I work in back home, until my partner and I got him ousted from his position and arrested super recently. [As soon as he's no longer talking about Ryou, his expression settles back to something more neutral.] So you're an artificial person or something? What kind?
[He knows of a lot - he's acted as a few, honestly - so it feels like a reasonable question to him.]
no subject
[This guy seems threatening. He wonders if it's one of those two-faced cases. Where he seems fine in public, but is terrible to the people he employs...]
I'm a homunculus.
["Your body was made solely for the sake of supplying mana to servants." The radio chimes in, that same calm voice once again.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
i sure thought i tagged this.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
b [whatever mood pans out is fine with me!]
So when she hears the beginnings of a certain song coming over the static, her attention is instantly captured. She's heard that music before, somewhere in the depths of Emet's recreation of Amaurot...]
That thing... is from this world, right? What is it picking up on?
no subject
Oh, that's one of ours! Maybe it's songs from our worlds, then? I could see something like that happening with that weird memory stuff from a few months ago...
[Clearly this place has some capacity to reflect things from their homes through magic here and there. The radio starts to wane and borderline drop out, but not quite before reaching the first two lines of singing, which despite the slight distortion is recognisably Momo for the initial line of "I’ll always believe, I’ll promise over and over", followed by another man's voice on the follow-up of "I tuck these unceasing feelings inside my heart". The radio knocks back into static after that much, though.]
no subject
Ah. You sing? Well, at least it's playing music instead of encore performances of our memories again.
[A pause of trepidation.]
...It might start any second now, though. Hope you don't have anything humiliating to hide.
no subject
As it stands, "humiliating" isn't what he's worried about at the moment, and Momo gives the radio a cheeky grin as it continues trying to "tune" to something else. There's one or two more snatches of music, but it doesn't stop on those.]
Doesn't everyone? But I guess it depends on what it's looking for. Sounds like it's gotten past wanting music pretty quickly.
c:i
in all of his years, aziraphale had never seen anything at all quite like what had just unfolded in front of him. he hardly knows how to react at first, suddenly stuck in place as he watches momo get, well, transformed and roll off onto the ground. he would have liked to reach out to catch him before he bounced against the floor, but unfortunately he had been so surprised that he hadn't been able to react at all.
it takes a good solid moment before he can get his wits about himself again, then all at once he's rapidly moving to scoop this tiny version of the young man up into his hands. )
I—
( it comes out strangely, so he clears his throat and tries again. )
I don't believe you should walking at all in this condition! You could get stepped on!
no subject
That said, he still clings onto whichever one of Aziraphale's fingers is in best reach when he's picked up. It's kind of like having a finger claimed by a small fluffy animal, and Momo leans over a little bit to look at how far the ground looks when he's this small.
He makes a small, drawn-out sort of groan, though it's a bit exaggerated as is usual for him.] You're right...but either I get back on the chair to try and switch back or I have to leave like this...
[He doesn't seem to like that second idea, judging by the tiny frown that creeps onto his tiny face.] I'm sure my darling would take good care of me, but I can't show my face to him like this! We'll both die!
[He hides his face, that and the ham in his tone at least making it clear that he doesn't mean literally die, he just means die of embarrassment. Or die laughing on Yuki's part, probably.]
no subject
aziraphale still feels like he's in a daze. it doesn't help that it feels like momo is talking far too quickly and saying too many things that he doesn't really understand. as a result, he ends up blankly staring at momo for far too long to be still within the realm of politeness. it's just that he can barely reconcile with momo's current appearance.
sure, he was getting used to all the beastfolk and the way his own body looked as one of them, but this was. . . this was a bit much! )
I'm sorry?
( he says just as things start to catch up to him. something about a significant other and the chair. oh! oh! yes! he needed to probably put momo on the chair and see if he couldn't get him back to fighting form. )
Ah, alright. So, the chair then?
( he turns then abruptly stops. )
Or do you think it might have a different. . . effect?
no subject
Even if it turns me into something else that's not just my usual form, almost anything would be better than this. I kind of wish I had some salt to throw over my shoulder after saying that, though. I don't even have fingers to cross, either...
[Faux woe enters his tone again at his apparent realisation that he is sans many bodily things he would've taken for granted normally. Being a weird nub creature is a wild ride, as he's learning.]
But either way, I'd rather try my luck than wait and see how long it takes to wear off. [He knows from his own limited experiences with transformation magic that it is finite, he just doesn't want to find out exactly what the limit on this transformation is.]
no subject
there weren't many other options available to them. it pretty much had to be this or to leave momo like this and see if there was anyone who knew the right magic to manage to reverse this. somehow, he didn't feel like that would be an easy task. nothing has been easy here thus far.
he nods. )
Alright.
( then he's closing the distance between them and the cursed chair. he moves his hand downward, close enough to the seat for momo to step off, but not close to actually come in contact with the thing.
he wasn't willing to purposefully test his luck. )
Here's to hoping, my dear boy.
no subject
Can't I at least be a man? [He's pretty sure it's just a habitual thing in this case, hence his faux pouting instead of an actual correction, but he's been mistaken for under 20 by so many people here it's starting to become a running joke and he's rolling it into comedy accordingly.
Almost as soon as he says that, though, he marches nubbily towards the middle of the flower chair, seemingly very determined to set it off again. It takes a bit of a jump into the heart of it when he doesn't have much in the way of weight in this form, but the flower finally takes the bait feeling something on its middle and closes again.
When it opens...well. Momo is Momo-shaped, but he's acquired a few wolfish features. He's also minus a shirt, but he didn't come down to the cursed mysterious basement in anything he cared about having ruined.
Initially, Momo seems quite pleased with the result, almost bounding out of the chair.] Did it work? I feel way better--!
[And then he feels that his already long canines are a good inch or so longer than normal in his mouth, and spots his still painted but now clawlike nails when he hasn't done that with his own magic...and hesitantly reaches up to his head. His wolf ears twitch a bit when he touches them, and while his expression is fairly unreadable, he seems to take it in stride enough.]
Okay, you know what, I can live with this for a couple days. Transformation magic isn't permanent, I remember that much from class. [He almost sounds like he's reminding himself of that to a degree, but the wolfy tail he's also acquired waves ponderously from side to side, so he's at least not upset enough to affect that.]
"nubbily". *please*.
it's less dramatic than the first, but he supposes that nothing could quite be as dramatic as the strange form that he had afflicted with earlier. in fact, he still hardly knows how to describe it. it was a bit like a child's doll, wasn't it? which wasn't a very comfortable thought. )
Oh—! Well, I cannot deny that's an improvement.
( he agrees, nodding towards him. the most important part was that he was back to his original size. whatever opinions he might have about either appearance, the fact of the matter was that it was incredibly dangerous for anyone to be that small. he could only imagine disaster.
the only problem now was that momo was improperly dressed. without hesitation, aziraphale is already pulling off his cardigan and extending it to him. it was going to be rather oversized on him, but it would at least keep him warm and comfortable. )
Here. It's best not to leave you without a shirt.
( he glances over momo once more. )
But I am surprised. You seem to take to being transformed rather good-naturedly?
it's a perfectly cromulent word
(no subject)
(no subject)
b - serious
Did you do something to it?
cw for. uh. mental description of a panic attack?
[He trails off when the radio speaks something clearly, finally - and then immediately pulls away, looking extremely uncomfortable, at the words.
"You said you were glad I'm here!"
It's recognisably Momo, but...strangely warped, and desperate in tone, as if having a last thread he was sorely relying on ripped away. A disturbing background noise almost like something screaming drowns out the sound of running and a door slamming, another voice that tries to shout something inaudibly on the way but doesn't make it through the chaff. The voices that follow are a mess with no real context, mixed between people and tangled up in the screaming noise that runs beneath the whole thing.
"This is the same as her, on that day..." Momo, still recognisable but this time sounding utterly miserable.
"--I envied you!" A young woman's tearful, furious shriek, as if in the midst of pouring out something that had been building up for years.
"I can't believe myself. I--" This time, Momo's part is cut off by a calm, kind man's voice.
"How kind of her." And then a sound like something being ripped at by claws, that shreds at the ends of those words, before Momo's comes back again and by now, it sounds close to tears.
"No, no. I know. I know that I'm a replacement--"
There's a knock that breaks through the cacophony to some degree, but the voices that come after it sound barely audible compared to the sharpness of before. It's just recognisable as Momo stammering out a "Yes?" that manages to sound okay-ish, Yuki's muffled voice asking if he's okay or if he's sick through the door, and Momo giving a quick affirmation that he's fine. The last words are drowned out by the cacophonous sound again, though, as it starts to sink and pitch like something's trying to force it down but failing. It warps the voice that tries to shout through it, too, at times sounding like some shapeless and bestial thing that shouldn't be listened to and at times slipping back into recognisably Momo again, just sounding upset and desperate to be heard.
"Don't tell me I'm a replacement. Tell me you want to keep singing with me--!"
The radio itself screeches as it finally tunes out of whatever the hell that was, though Momo probably knows. Considering he turned his back on the radio about two seconds in and clamped his hands over his ears about a second after that. He looks pale and unsettled, eyes on the floor, but besides that he's rather uncannily still until he realises the radio feedback has stopped. He does drop his hands from his ears at that point, turning his head slightly with a readily forced grin.]
I guess it's broken. I wouldn't worry about it too much. [The lie comes easily enough despite how visible his adverse reaction was, but hey, he has to at least try to bullshit his way out of talking about it.]
no subject
She remains backed away from the machine as it runs, turning her head to look at Momo. Watching him cover his ears and hide away. Even once the playback stops, she's staring with her big black eyes at him. Ears giving a flick at his words.]
...Are you alright?
[She wouldn't pry or press for details. Not if he really didn't want to. But he looked sick even with the smile, though even with her lack of people skills it seemed fake.]
no subject
[The radio, apparently picking up on Mikasa's question too, tunes into something again. Momo immediately looks to it like he's half considering trying to blow it off the shelf if it's something as bad as the first, but in this case, it's supporting his answer. The voice is Momo again, but this time it's calm. Shy and gentle, but determined, as if still unsure of his worth but ready to see it through anyway.
"I want my words to ride on your music, Yuki. I want you to create a song for me. Without looking at the past anymore. I will only pester you about the future. I want to sing a song of the future, about my and Yuki's Re:vale, that will go on forever."
Momo lets out a breath through his teeth, as if still caught out by something.] ...That was recent. The first thing was a couple years ago now. I guess it tunes into people's memories or something. But it's okay now.
[He obviously doesn't really want to admit it was actually a thing that happened, considering his tone sounds a bit like he's dragging the truth out of himself, but he doesn't want Mikasa to worry.]
no subject
Unfortunately, her silence gave the radio more than enough time to start up again. It's words ringing out clearly without anyone speaking over it. The fae turned to stare.
Yeah, still not sure what to say to that. Her open mouth closing for a moment. Wanting to think about the future? He'd sounded pretty desperate to stay with Yuki there...But she had no words that'd help much. There's a small unsure noise, then she takes a step closer to it.]
...Do you want me to smash it?
[If it broke then it can't do anything else. Right? Either way she was rolling her shoulders. Something like this would probably be delicate.]
no subject
[While this place did get a bit of a jump on radio technology, they did not pass the key phase of "radios you could kill a man with without all that much trouble". Which does make some sense considering what the anachronic technology here tends to be like.
The radio, blessedly, isn't tuning back into anything yet, though with Mikasa so close to it it may well start picking up some things that sound familiar.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)