[He had thought that killing that fake Seimei in such a public way would satisfy him, but in the end all it had done was to leave him feeling hollow.
Douman had left the square outside of City Hall where the questionnaire had been held almost as soon as he had erased the one daring to pretend to be his eternal enemy from existence, wafting away in like a shape made out of dark fog collapsing in the breeze. The Gnosia part of him had been very happy, rolling in the satisfaction of not only making a fresh kill, but it having been one of those pesky doctors as well. The rational part of his was. Well. He wasn't reliving the trauma of landing a hit on the original Abe no Seimei only to realize that their fight had already ended because the other was now dead. That there would be no more competitions, no more fights. That he would never get the public recognition he so craved. Needed even, if only to justify his raise in rank and keep holding it.
Because there had never been a trauma at all.
He hadn't felt anything as he had been covered in the mingling blood from the fresh wound on his face and that of his rival, he hadn't!]
That goddamn.... Can't have been it....
[But his right eye is still hurting. He can feel Seimei's curse digging into it like a root digging into a fresh corpse, it's magic tendrils trying to fight his gnosia infection for dominance as the part of him that's still himself stands by and watches with mute disinterest. Whatever happened, whatever won, he didn't care either way. Because there was nothing to look forward to, just an eternity of dissatisfaction.
He'd tried his whole life to fight against his youkai instincts and stay civilized, or at least for as long as the time he had spend after being killed and revived as a youkai had been. How long had that been again?]
One-thousand years.... and another half a life...
[One millenia he'd had spent trying to find it again. That feeling of going against somebody worthy, the heart-bounding of feeling truly alive... Disappointments, over and over and over again. In the end even the famed great youkai lords and many of the gods couldn't provide. But then, what should he do? Start catching souls and brew them into wine like the reoccurring nightmare of Shuten Doji did? No, that hadn't been the scary part of it. The true nightmare had been losing Suzaku and having to try and run with his own feeble, slow human legs; a desperate race to finish the magical grit and bind the monster in place to give Seimei the time he'd need to- ]
Seimei... Seimei...
[Always him. Why can't he get rid of it? The curse on his eye hurts. The gnosia part wants to him to hunt. So he does a bit, using his lack of a detectable presence and ability to move literally through walls and appear wherever he wants to pluck off humans whenever he spotted some. But it's not satisfying. Too easy kills. It's not long before his hunts get sloppy, last minute-thought swipes of a feline too fed to truly care if its attacks succeeded. They don't even register as proper humans or attacks to him with how 'glitchy' most of the people present have become.
He isn't trying to keep his appearance together anymore either - letting his youkai powers run wild has him leaking his spirit energy left, right and center, with the contours of his clothes, hair and sometimes even whole limbs deteriorating into particles of darkness and fog before pulling themselves together again. Curse. All that's left of him are curses.
When he finally notices that somebody has been following him, he just stops.]
[Fandaniel hangs in the air behind Douman, arms folded over his chest.
It hadn't been hard to notice the other man staggering down the streets of Aldrip, falling apart beneath his clothes.]
Me?
I am quite thoroughly cursed already.
[In more ways than just his Ascian embrace.
His very soul aches from exhaustion and has for as long as he can remember. He pushes those dark thoughts aside and quietly descends to the street. There is no time for wallowing in the idea of curses, there is work to do.]
Ashiya Douman, wasn't it?
Ah. Pardon me, I forget my manners.
[He steps a leg forward and dips into an elegant bow, one hand against the small of his back, the other against his breast.]
Lord Ashiya Douman, esteemed Onmyoji.
I, ever your humble jester, am here once again to serve.
[Fandaniel's lips curl back against impossibly white teeth as he rises from his bow. Deep within himself, he feels the part of him that has always been a scientist wriggle in excitement.]
You seem unwell. So I shall ask you the same question I asked when we first met... Do you require assistance?
[Even though it can't be seen beneath his mask, Douman's lips pull into a mirthless smirk at that claim.]
Then that makes two of us already.
[Seeing the other float in the air doesn't perturb him. It might have during their first meeting, but there are too many youkai that can fly or float in some way or another alone on his island to still bat an eye at it. Maybe if Fandaniel insisted on floating upside down, but let's not jinx it. Though, actually...
He eyes the Ascian with some mild interest, only to give a visible jolt and suddenly stand ram-rod straight at hearing his human name.]
How did- Ahhhhh. The theater fiend. [His memory of the time when he'd glitched is hazy at best. Trying to remember it is like trying to recall the exact details of a summer six decades ago -- or a whole lifetime and then some, as would be more appropriate in his case. It's annoying to remember it now, but the gnosia part of him outvotes it easily with its joy at getting to hunt again. Surely this one would be a better sport than some random citizens.]
Being called that sure brings back memories. [He relaxes once more, tone mellow in the ways of an old man.] But an old fool asking a jester for aid ....wouldn't that inevitably end in a fool's errand? I'd hate to waste your time.
[Fandaniel's smirk widens at the playful turn of phrase as he slowly sways across the street, closer to Douman.]
Perhaps not all fool's errands are a waste of time...
I can see plainly where you need help. Your soul is rotten, my friend! You hunt men to sate an alien appetite.
[He feels his ancient heart race in his chest, humming with curious excitement. A part of him that existed long before his Ascian embrace is enjoying this, can remember days in the distant past where he and his scalpal cut, searched, explored, cured, destroyed...
No, there is an even older part of him. A him who carried a staff to form and end lives. End suffering.
End his suffering, discordant memories of different lives cry out inside his mind.
End it.
He lifts a hand toward Douman and a scarlet glyph manifests in front of his face, casting a haunting glow around him.]
Not alien. [That is the only thing he will deny. The instinct to hunt is way too familiar, and has been for a long time. And his desire to kill Seimei has been even older. He can't blame any of those on being a youkai, or being gnosia. They're all his own.]
........
[He considers the man -- thing -- in front of him. Clearly no normal man, but also not a monster like himself. Normally Douman would be alerted, but all he can feel right now is tired. What does it matter which new and sure-of-himself enemy life is throwing at him again? It might be different colors and sizes, but in the end they're all the same. One flavor to describe them all. And it's coppery, salty, but also not carrying any life in it. Rust, rather than blood.
He's been bleeding out a long time.
So it's with a world-weary sigh that he kicks his eternally preserved body into gear again, drawing up the last dregs of reserves that he still has of his spirit energy. Was it being gnosia, the lack of spiritual energy in the atmosphere of this 'world' or just a simple lack of caring to rest and recharge that have left him so low on it? Doesn't matter. There is nothing to proof. Nobody to prove to.
It shall be enough.]
TRy iT.
[Reaching up, he fastens his mask properly on his face and gives one more push to fully provoke Seimei's curse. It flares to life in the shape of a burning pentagram that hovers over his right eye, burning and leaking dark energy and smaller versions of itself without doing any physical harm to the mask.
Triggering it doesn't do him any favors, though. All it does is hurt. But he wants Seimei to see this, in whatever twisted form that's still possible. Let him see the man whom he had once jokingly gotten stuck with the labe of Curse Master try to be exorcised. Douman is sure his old rival would have liked that sort of spectacle.]
[Fandaniel abruptly vanishes, withdrawing himself into the looming shadows of the nearby buildings.
A moment later he emerges with a swirl of darkness behind Douman and lashes out with one hand, trying to punch through the other man's being. He isn't reaching for anything within the physical body, he is reaching for the soul.]
[It seems like their fight will be over painfully quick. Fandaniel's hand connects and for a moment it is all within his grasp: the fabric of Douman's clothes, the firm warmth of the body beneath them, even the mystical feeling of his soul.
...and then it slips past Fandaniel's fingers like a piece of soap, leaving him with the unsatisfactory feeling of having had something just almost.
Douman tuts as the rest of his body disperses into wafts of black fog as well.]
How rash.
[The voice comes from a good distance behind Fandaniel as the place where Douman had just stood starts to glow in a magical grid.]
Tou!
[The grid explodes in a myriad of charged chains that seek to wind themselves around Fandaniel, each one charged with a different one of the five elements.]
[Fandaniel curls his fingers, ready to tear out the diseased fragment of soul he can feel in Douman but he grips only air.
He doesn't pause to look around, instead vanishing again in a swirl of shadows, narrowly avoiding the winding magical chains reaching up from below.]
My, what a boorish audience you are!
[He twirls in the air, facing in the direction of Douman's voice.]
What is that tired old phrase? One good turn deserves another?
[Fandaniel's robes flare and aetherial chains snake outward from within them. They wind rapidly through the air, dark as shadows but nowhere near as silent. With an audible, almost hungry rattle, they launch themselves at Douman.]
Mh? Isn't audience participation the big thing nowadays? You'll have to excuse an old man for mixing things up.
[The glowing chains of Douman's attack fizzle out of life alongside the grit they originated from, but he doesn't stop to hold still and let himself just be hit either.
A quick chant summons a spherical shield that stops Fandaniel's chains before they can wrap around him.]
Let's assume you got me. What now? The moment you appear in here, I'll strike.
[Fandaniel floats down to the ground and lands daintily in front of the sphere.]
Or have you been feeling a tad...confused in your memories of late?
[He curls his fingers next to his cheek and looks Douman over.]
I don't know if I can help you with that. But I can fix this relentless hunger of yours.
That is what I shall do if I do, indeed, "have" you at the end of my proverbial claws. I shall rip and cut until I've torn loose the Gnosia within you.
[Realizing how that sounds, he grins and his eyes flash mischievously.]
It is your soul and mind I shall cut into as I search for the corruption, not the body. You, the real you, will not be harmed! A bit rattled, perhaps, but no worse for wear.
Twenty? [he laughs mirthlessly at that] When was that?
[He doesn't confirm nor deny Fandaniel's suspicion. Douman has always been a shitty loser; if he doesn't admit to having made a mistake and letting slip something he shouldn't have during his glitch, then nobody can say that it really happened. Even if they both know that it did.]
....you realize that anybody with half a working brain would run if you told them something like that, right? Not just the gnosia. You're just missing the "Mwahaha" for a full-blown villain.
[Fandaniel winks and the hand curled against his cheek rises, index finger pointing at the sky.]
Ah. You are mistaken.
I cut not as some unfathomable monster but as a surgeon. With precision and purpose.
You are in good hands.
[A beat, then.]
And yes, you told me you were twenty. Hardly old, if you ask me. You were trying, and failing, to contain a spirit fox of some sort. If none of that was true, then I hope you share the real story with me...
After I've removed that pesky Gnosia corruption, of course!
[Pardon him the deadpan, but it's true. Both mentally and physically in that particular case, even.]
Huh. So it wasn't just a weird dream.
[He is still standing still, making a point of doing the opposite of Fandaniel and not emoting at all. At least their little banter is invigorating Douman a little, although the squirming gnosia sending invasive thoughts into his head about how he 'must not be caught, kill that person!' is implying that the break he's getting will be brief.]
[The answer comes from behind Fandaniel. Douman's defensive sphere hasn't moved or changed, but he is behind him now. More or less. His upper body raises from the ground as if it were a pool of water until he is standing with his guard down. Douman even goes so far as to lift and spread his arms in a mocking surrender.
This should be good.]
Maybe after you've succeeded in touching and "healing" me.
[It's a malicious prompt, considering that his youkai power is to be too slippery to be caught and that it's a passive trait. Even with him doing nothing Fandaniel will have a hard time just touching him as long as he has evil intentions. Let's see how his would be-surgeon will handle that one.]
[Fandaniel hears the voice speak behind him and slowly turns around, hands still behind his back. The sight of a man slowly rising up from the ground doesn't surprise him much, despite its strangeness.
His grin never falters.]
What an interesting ability.
[He slowly lifts a hand and stares thoughtfully at his fingers.]
It must have served you well these past twenty years.
[With the speed of a striking serpent he lashes out with his arm. Shadows lance from his gloved palm and surge toward Douman's chest. He's hoping to at least stun the other man, if not knock him unconscious.]
[Douman doesn't even flinch as the attack hits him and his body does the fog thing again. The only difference is that this time it'd feel like Fandaniel came even less close to touching than the last time.]
Thanks. I didn't have it back when I was a human, though.
[He wills his body to reshape itself right where it was before, looking unbothered.]
Once I grow bored of this I'll strike you back, alright? It's been almost a day since I killed that fake Seimei with my gnosia ability.
[He waits silently until Fandaniel is 'gone' before he tuts under his breath.]
Youth these days. ....no perseverance or patience. [Is that what you want me to say? His teeth bare into a sadistic smirk behind his mask as he looks around as if he were expecting his opponent to suddenly pop up right in front or behind him again before Douman walks to the next wall and sits down in front of it. Waiting calmly.
For a moment he considers sending out some very basic shikigami to scout the premise, but he quickly decides against it. Doing that would take too much energy for very little gain considering that those things would only work as glorified movement detectors. Douman needs to preserve what little reserves he still has to end this fight, no matter what the gosia in him says. Getting impatient and making mistakes is no option.
Only Seimei is allowed to defeat him.
No, not even Seimei....
What is the best way to get out of a trap realm again, if one can't find the caster and can't shatter it by force?]
[Fandaniel silently descends to the ground again and watches Douman. Slowly, he raises a glove and conjures his chains once more. As extensions of his aether, they, too, are invisible.
They snake through the air above Douman, pause almost thoughtfully, and then come down to wrap around him. This time Fandaniel attempts to trap not the body, but the spirit. The chains do not wrap tightly but curl to bind in a loose, shimmering circle.]
[Douman makes a surprised sound at being suddenly magically grabbed, but doesn't make any attempts to break free. He wants to see where this is going.]
[The quip is amused rather than annoyed as Douman takes a deep breath and relaxes into the magical hold. He will have to react quickly if the chains are dropped, but he isn't concerned about Fandaniel having any more luck at directly touching him than he did the last times.
But he will have to get close to and be corporal to do it. That's what Douman is gambling on.]
It has gotten to your head too, hasn't it? The opposite of the Gnosia.
[There is no malicious intent nor any to grab or hold, so Fandaniel doesn't trigger Douman's youkai power when he touches his mask's nose. Douman still rolls his eyes, though.]
Putting the dramatics on thick, are you?
[and then he goes and says that. Submit. As if Douman has ever submitted to anything! There is a palpable change of air and a crackle of power as his old rage and refusal to submit in any way possible rises its head, but Douman still doesn't act. Not yet. This arrogant brat if going to get what he's asking for so desperately, but Douman wants him to run into it face-first. Let's see who's the one laughing then.]
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expiationlogs2024-07-15 08:13 am
somewhen between day 5 and 6
Douman had left the square outside of City Hall where the questionnaire had been held almost as soon as he had erased the one daring to pretend to be his eternal enemy from existence, wafting away in like a shape made out of dark fog collapsing in the breeze. The Gnosia part of him had been very happy, rolling in the satisfaction of not only making a fresh kill, but it having been one of those pesky doctors as well. The rational part of his was. Well. He wasn't reliving the trauma of landing a hit on the original Abe no Seimei only to realize that their fight had already ended because the other was now dead. That there would be no more competitions, no more fights. That he would never get the public recognition he so craved. Needed even, if only to justify his raise in rank and keep holding it.
Because there had never been a trauma at all.
He hadn't felt anything as he had been covered in the mingling blood from the fresh wound on his face and that of his rival, he hadn't!]
That goddamn.... Can't have been it....
[But his right eye is still hurting. He can feel Seimei's curse digging into it like a root digging into a fresh corpse, it's magic tendrils trying to fight his gnosia infection for dominance as the part of him that's still himself stands by and watches with mute disinterest. Whatever happened, whatever won, he didn't care either way. Because there was nothing to look forward to, just an eternity of dissatisfaction.
He'd tried his whole life to fight against his youkai instincts and stay civilized, or at least for as long as the time he had spend after being killed and revived as a youkai had been. How long had that been again?]
One-thousand years.... and another half a life...
[One millenia he'd had spent trying to find it again. That feeling of going against somebody worthy, the heart-bounding of feeling truly alive... Disappointments, over and over and over again. In the end even the famed great youkai lords and many of the gods couldn't provide. But then, what should he do? Start catching souls and brew them into wine like the reoccurring nightmare of Shuten Doji did? No, that hadn't been the scary part of it. The true nightmare had been losing Suzaku and having to try and run with his own feeble, slow human legs; a desperate race to finish the magical grit and bind the monster in place to give Seimei the time he'd need to- ]
Seimei... Seimei...
[Always him. Why can't he get rid of it? The curse on his eye hurts. The gnosia part wants to him to hunt. So he does a bit, using his lack of a detectable presence and ability to move literally through walls and appear wherever he wants to pluck off humans whenever he spotted some. But it's not satisfying. Too easy kills. It's not long before his hunts get sloppy, last minute-thought swipes of a feline too fed to truly care if its attacks succeeded. They don't even register as proper humans or attacks to him with how 'glitchy' most of the people present have become.
He isn't trying to keep his appearance together anymore either - letting his youkai powers run wild has him leaking his spirit energy left, right and center, with the contours of his clothes, hair and sometimes even whole limbs deteriorating into particles of darkness and fog before pulling themselves together again. Curse. All that's left of him are curses.
When he finally notices that somebody has been following him, he just stops.]
Do you want to get cursed as well?
no subject
It hadn't been hard to notice the other man staggering down the streets of Aldrip, falling apart beneath his clothes.]
Me?
I am quite thoroughly cursed already.
[In more ways than just his Ascian embrace.
His very soul aches from exhaustion and has for as long as he can remember. He pushes those dark thoughts aside and quietly descends to the street. There is no time for wallowing in the idea of curses, there is work to do.]
Ashiya Douman, wasn't it?
Ah. Pardon me, I forget my manners.
[He steps a leg forward and dips into an elegant bow, one hand against the small of his back, the other against his breast.]
Lord Ashiya Douman, esteemed Onmyoji.
I, ever your humble jester, am here once again to serve.
[Fandaniel's lips curl back against impossibly white teeth as he rises from his bow. Deep within himself, he feels the part of him that has always been a scientist wriggle in excitement.]
You seem unwell. So I shall ask you the same question I asked when we first met... Do you require assistance?
no subject
Then that makes two of us already.
[Seeing the other float in the air doesn't perturb him. It might have during their first meeting, but there are too many youkai that can fly or float in some way or another alone on his island to still bat an eye at it. Maybe if Fandaniel insisted on floating upside down, but let's not jinx it. Though, actually...
He eyes the Ascian with some mild interest, only to give a visible jolt and suddenly stand ram-rod straight at hearing his human name.]
How did- Ahhhhh. The theater fiend. [His memory of the time when he'd glitched is hazy at best. Trying to remember it is like trying to recall the exact details of a summer six decades ago -- or a whole lifetime and then some, as would be more appropriate in his case. It's annoying to remember it now, but the gnosia part of him outvotes it easily with its joy at getting to hunt again. Surely this one would be a better sport than some random citizens.]
Being called that sure brings back memories. [He relaxes once more, tone mellow in the ways of an old man.] But an old fool asking a jester for aid ....wouldn't that inevitably end in a fool's errand? I'd hate to waste your time.
no subject
Perhaps not all fool's errands are a waste of time...
I can see plainly where you need help. Your soul is rotten, my friend! You hunt men to sate an alien appetite.
[He feels his ancient heart race in his chest, humming with curious excitement. A part of him that existed long before his Ascian embrace is enjoying this, can remember days in the distant past where he and his scalpal cut, searched, explored, cured, destroyed...
No, there is an even older part of him. A him who carried a staff to form and end lives. End suffering.
End his suffering, discordant memories of different lives cry out inside his mind.
End it.
He lifts a hand toward Douman and a scarlet glyph manifests in front of his face, casting a haunting glow around him.]
I can fix all that.
Come, show me everything inside of you!
no subject
........
[He considers the man -- thing -- in front of him. Clearly no normal man, but also not a monster like himself. Normally Douman would be alerted, but all he can feel right now is tired. What does it matter which new and sure-of-himself enemy life is throwing at him again? It might be different colors and sizes, but in the end they're all the same. One flavor to describe them all. And it's coppery, salty, but also not carrying any life in it. Rust, rather than blood.
He's been bleeding out a long time.
So it's with a world-weary sigh that he kicks his eternally preserved body into gear again, drawing up the last dregs of reserves that he still has of his spirit energy. Was it being gnosia, the lack of spiritual energy in the atmosphere of this 'world' or just a simple lack of caring to rest and recharge that have left him so low on it? Doesn't matter. There is nothing to proof. Nobody to prove to.
It shall be enough.]
TRy iT.
[Reaching up, he fastens his mask properly on his face and gives one more push to fully provoke Seimei's curse. It flares to life in the shape of a burning pentagram that hovers over his right eye, burning and leaking dark energy and smaller versions of itself without doing any physical harm to the mask.
Triggering it doesn't do him any favors, though. All it does is hurt. But he wants Seimei to see this, in whatever twisted form that's still possible. Let him see the man whom he had once jokingly gotten stuck with the labe of Curse Master try to be exorcised. Douman is sure his old rival would have liked that sort of spectacle.]
...If you can, that is.
no subject
A moment later he emerges with a swirl of darkness behind Douman and lashes out with one hand, trying to punch through the other man's being. He isn't reaching for anything within the physical body, he is reaching for the soul.]
Be still and this won't take but a moment!
no subject
...and then it slips past Fandaniel's fingers like a piece of soap, leaving him with the unsatisfactory feeling of having had something just almost.
Douman tuts as the rest of his body disperses into wafts of black fog as well.]
How rash.
[The voice comes from a good distance behind Fandaniel as the place where Douman had just stood starts to glow in a magical grid.]
Tou!
[The grid explodes in a myriad of charged chains that seek to wind themselves around Fandaniel, each one charged with a different one of the five elements.]
no subject
He doesn't pause to look around, instead vanishing again in a swirl of shadows, narrowly avoiding the winding magical chains reaching up from below.]
My, what a boorish audience you are!
[He twirls in the air, facing in the direction of Douman's voice.]
What is that tired old phrase? One good turn deserves another?
[Fandaniel's robes flare and aetherial chains snake outward from within them. They wind rapidly through the air, dark as shadows but nowhere near as silent. With an audible, almost hungry rattle, they launch themselves at Douman.]
no subject
[The glowing chains of Douman's attack fizzle out of life alongside the grit they originated from, but he doesn't stop to hold still and let himself just be hit either.
A quick chant summons a spherical shield that stops Fandaniel's chains before they can wrap around him.]
Let's assume you got me. What now? The moment you appear in here, I'll strike.
no subject
You said you were twenty...
[Fandaniel floats down to the ground and lands daintily in front of the sphere.]
Or have you been feeling a tad...confused in your memories of late?
[He curls his fingers next to his cheek and looks Douman over.]
I don't know if I can help you with that. But I can fix this relentless hunger of yours.
That is what I shall do if I do, indeed, "have" you at the end of my proverbial claws. I shall rip and cut until I've torn loose the Gnosia within you.
[Realizing how that sounds, he grins and his eyes flash mischievously.]
It is your soul and mind I shall cut into as I search for the corruption, not the body. You, the real you, will not be harmed! A bit rattled, perhaps, but no worse for wear.
no subject
[He doesn't confirm nor deny Fandaniel's suspicion. Douman has always been a shitty loser; if he doesn't admit to having made a mistake and letting slip something he shouldn't have during his glitch, then nobody can say that it really happened. Even if they both know that it did.]
....you realize that anybody with half a working brain would run if you told them something like that, right? Not just the gnosia. You're just missing the "Mwahaha" for a full-blown villain.
no subject
Ah. You are mistaken.
I cut not as some unfathomable monster but as a surgeon. With precision and purpose.
You are in good hands.
[A beat, then.]
And yes, you told me you were twenty. Hardly old, if you ask me. You were trying, and failing, to contain a spirit fox of some sort. If none of that was true, then I hope you share the real story with me...
After I've removed that pesky Gnosia corruption, of course!
no subject
[Pardon him the deadpan, but it's true. Both mentally and physically in that particular case, even.]
Huh. So it wasn't just a weird dream.
[He is still standing still, making a point of doing the opposite of Fandaniel and not emoting at all. At least their little banter is invigorating Douman a little, although the squirming gnosia sending invasive thoughts into his head about how he 'must not be caught, kill that person!' is implying that the break he's getting will be brief.]
Do you know what a Nurarihyon is?
no subject
[He clasps his hands behind him and walks a few steps closer to the sphere with a childlike sway of his hips.]
Mmm... no.
I cannot say I am familiar with that term. Care to enlighten me?
no subject
[The answer comes from behind Fandaniel. Douman's defensive sphere hasn't moved or changed, but he is behind him now. More or less. His upper body raises from the ground as if it were a pool of water until he is standing with his guard down. Douman even goes so far as to lift and spread his arms in a mocking surrender.
This should be good.]
Maybe after you've succeeded in touching and "healing" me.
[It's a malicious prompt, considering that his youkai power is to be too slippery to be caught and that it's a passive trait. Even with him doing nothing Fandaniel will have a hard time just touching him as long as he has evil intentions. Let's see how his would be-surgeon will handle that one.]
no subject
His grin never falters.]
What an interesting ability.
[He slowly lifts a hand and stares thoughtfully at his fingers.]
It must have served you well these past twenty years.
[With the speed of a striking serpent he lashes out with his arm. Shadows lance from his gloved palm and surge toward Douman's chest. He's hoping to at least stun the other man, if not knock him unconscious.]
no subject
Thanks. I didn't have it back when I was a human, though.
[He wills his body to reshape itself right where it was before, looking unbothered.]
Once I grow bored of this I'll strike you back, alright? It's been almost a day since I killed that fake Seimei with my gnosia ability.
no subject
Hah.
What nonsense. There are far too many Gnosia to cure for me to waste my time being toyed with by an infant!
May you enjoy the feeling of your soul rotting.
[He disappears in a swirl of shadows. This time he doesn't appear again.
But he hasn't gone anywhere.
He hangs over the street, cloaked in an invisibility spell, waiting to see what Douman does next.]
no subject
Youth these days. ....no perseverance or patience. [Is that what you want me to say? His teeth bare into a sadistic smirk behind his mask as he looks around as if he were expecting his opponent to suddenly pop up right in front or behind him again before Douman walks to the next wall and sits down in front of it. Waiting calmly.
For a moment he considers sending out some very basic shikigami to scout the premise, but he quickly decides against it. Doing that would take too much energy for very little gain considering that those things would only work as glorified movement detectors. Douman needs to preserve what little reserves he still has to end this fight, no matter what the gosia in him says. Getting impatient and making mistakes is no option.
Only Seimei is allowed to defeat him.
No, not even Seimei....
What is the best way to get out of a trap realm again, if one can't find the caster and can't shatter it by force?]
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They snake through the air above Douman, pause almost thoughtfully, and then come down to wrap around him. This time Fandaniel attempts to trap not the body, but the spirit. The chains do not wrap tightly but curl to bind in a loose, shimmering circle.]
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Ah. Back so soon?
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Play time is over.
Let us get that Gnosia out of you, hm?
You may thank me later.
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[The quip is amused rather than annoyed as Douman takes a deep breath and relaxes into the magical hold. He will have to react quickly if the chains are dropped, but he isn't concerned about Fandaniel having any more luck at directly touching him than he did the last times.
But he will have to get close to and be corporal to do it. That's what Douman is gambling on.]
It has gotten to your head too, hasn't it? The opposite of the Gnosia.
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Oh, it would seem so.
Gnosia and doctors alike, we have all been given our parts to play in this little comedy of errors. Who am I to resist?
...Now, the thing is...
[He reaches out a gloved hand and pokes Douman's nose. Boop.]
I'm not a fan of fighting I'm afraid. All this back-and-forth nonsense, trading blows... It grows so dreadfully tedious after a while.
My bag is full of tricks, and I have many more where my shackles came from but I'm hoping you'll be a good boy and let me off the hook.
[As he speaks, his eyes glitter manically beneath the shadows of his hood.]
Submit to me, then we can both be on our merry ways, hm?
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Putting the dramatics on thick, are you?
[and then he goes and says that. Submit. As if Douman has ever submitted to anything! There is a palpable change of air and a crackle of power as his old rage and refusal to submit in any way possible rises its head, but Douman still doesn't act. Not yet. This arrogant brat if going to get what he's asking for so desperately, but Douman wants him to run into it face-first. Let's see who's the one laughing then.]
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