SKULLCAP ☠

"hot-blooded and hard-headed -- still, despite his emotional outbursts, he has a big heart. he's always ready to throw down and ollie into combat on his board, with rhyme right there beside him." rp journal for daisukenojo "beat" bito from the world ends with you. affiliated with the tumblr-rp, fabricated world. holder of the black rose, bk1.

[respectit-yo-blog]

ooc post! sorry sorry. ;;

yo guys -- if anyone drafted beat's event open, i just wanted to let you know i kind of edited it because i didn't like how it sounded as it was .. and i made it better mhmyup. ~ ;;

so if you don't mind drafting this kind of new but actually just edited post, that'd be swell, okay? thanks a bunch. c:

[respectit-yo-blog]

❝ ♔to return?↗ fw event&open!

He couldn't even remember falling asleep at any point, honestly. He'd been so hellbent on not falling asleep in the other world, because there were so many other things that needed to be done, and rest wasn't quite an option. But apparently he had -- and when he finally woke up, he was greeted by white walls, and a white floor. There was even the sound of people chattering to be heard if he strained his ears to listen long enough ..

A second more to piece everything together, and the teenager jumped up from where he was sitting -- he'd been leaning up against the wall right next to a painting that looked like a bunch of scribbles and paint-blotches. 

It was the "Fabricated World". He didn't even need to look over at the plaque beneath the painting to make sure. After what had happened to him the first time he looked at it, how could he forget what it looked like? The teenager shook his head, rubbed his eyes, even pinched himself -- just to make sure that this wasn't a dream, that it was real. And, he found after a minute or so, it was. It was all real.

Then .. everything was okay. He was back in the art gallery -- no, he was home, and a nap was all it took to bring him back here. How silly he'd been for not going to sleep sooner! Maybe that was why he was so tired in the first place -- his body was trying to tell him the way out of that other place. A laugh escaped his lips as he started down the hall, though, it sounded more exhausted than it did humored. How long had he spent in that other place, anyway? Minutes, hours? His sense of time felt like it had been warped back there, and it didn't help that he hadn't had a watch on him. So he couldn't quite recall how long it had been, but it didn't matter. He was back, and all he had to do now was find his sister and they could --

"Rhyme!"

No sooner had he thought of the younger blonde did he find her a few feet away -- and she was with company. Neku, Rhyme and Shiki were crowded around one of the smaller paintings on the wall ahead. They must not have heard Beat calling his sister's name, because they didn't stop what they were doing to turn around. It was a bit strange, because the skater had a pretty loud voice .. But it didn't matter; he would just surprise them while their backs were turned. It would be more fun that way, anyway .. At least, that was what Beat figured.

It was only when he got close enough to the trio that he saw what they were looking at. It was a painting. It was a painting .. of Beat. And if that wasn't enough, the title underneath the frame was no more reassuring than the image itself: It was titled, "The Forgotten Portrait". "What the --?"

The trio turned towards him then; they looked at him, but they didn't say a word. It was almost like .. they were looking through him. Like they were looking at something behind him.

The blonde turned around at that thought, and he found that he could not have been any more right about the situation. Because, standing there behind him was .. well, it was hard to believe, and Beat rubbed his eyes furiously before he actually believed what he was seeing. Standing a few feet away was a person that looked exactly like him, and could have been him, but it wasn't -- obviously not, he was standing right there! He was where he was, but that Beat still remained; it was no illusion of the eye, either .. rubbing his eyes had proved that much to him. Not only that, but the three standing behind him were acknowledging this other Beat as opposed to him -- the real Beat. "Yo, guys, what's all 'a this --?"

But they went on with what they were doing, as if he hadn't spoken to begin with. The blonde turned towards his friends, waving his hands, doing anything that might have caught their attention, but to no avail. They started to speak to one another; Shiki suggested that they head home, but this other Beat suggested that they stay a little longer. He wanted to look at all the paintings once more, from what it sounded like. Everyone had been in agreement with him, nodding their approval. Rhyme, in particular, looked especially excited -- she'd loved the gallery, and she was happy that Beat was enjoying it so. It .. Almost hurt Beat to see it, because it wasn't him she was happy about. It was this .. this imposter.

They then started to walk away, "fake Beat" following close behind the trio. However, as the other three teenagers went down the steps to the first floor, the imposter-Beat stopped walking. He stopped himself at the top of the staircase, and turned to look over his shoulder. He was looking at exactly where the real Beat stood, as if ..

As if he knew that Beat was standing there. As if he'd known this entire time that Beat was there. The smirk on this other Beat was sinister, and the teenager felt himself tense up. He advanced on the imposter, fists clenched tightly; whoever this guy was, he was going down.

"Yo -- Yo, You get the hell away from 'em! You touch one hair on any 'a their heads, and you're as good as dead! You hear me!? I ain't playin'!" 

There was no response from the imposter in words, but as Beat screamed at him, his smirk grew wider. A moment of silence fell between them before any words were spoken; they were from the imposter, and they made Beat feel a chill all down his spine.

"They don't need -- no, they don't want you anymore. They asked me to join them .. and so here I am."

It was then that Rhyme came back up the steps, grabbing the false-Beat's arm with both of her hands. She'd asked him why he was standing around, and she told him to hurry up, or else they'd both lose the others. His eyes still on the real Beat, he answered her with a "'Course, sis", and put an arm around her shoulder before starting down the steps with her. He wasn't smirking any longer, but the gleam in his eyes was vicious. His words floated through the air long after he'd left, and they made Beat weak.

It was for this reason that he'd hung back; he legs felt like jelly, and if he took a step, he felt that he might fall over.  He couldn't even find the proper words to speak; his throat felt constricted, his tongue felt ten times larger than it actually was, and it was getting hard to breathe. If it couldn't get any worse, he felt tears stinging his eyes, and he clenched his fists, forcing them back for as long as he could.

Feeling his legs starting to give out even more, to the point that he could no longer stand, Beat leaned up against the nearest wall and slowly sank down to the ground. He'd been replaced. They had replaced him. His sister had replaced him. All the "real" Beat was to them was a portrait hanging on the wall, and they had this "new Beat" to take care of them now. Rhyme would look up to him as his older brother, Neku and Shiki would look to him as a friend.

And him? Well, he was nothing. Just a shadow in the background, someone they used to know but no longer needed to.

It made no sense when he tried to think about it, but he couldn't be bothered to figure it out -- not in his current condition. His head pounded, and he couldn't think straight. Finally giving into the tears of frustration that he'd held up for so long, he leaned his head back against the wall and pulled his skull-cap down, so that his eyes were covered. "Neku, Shiki .. .."

".. .. Rhyme .."

[truth-hadgone-blog]

★❜〈 worst nightmare » // intro & open

[truth-hadgone-blog]

A few minutes of silence past after she yelled out towards the unknown, and she began to wonder if that was a good idea or not. Clover didn’t know exactly what she was dealing with in this situation, but she’s seen enough horror flicks to know that drawing attention to yourself in dark rooms is usually a one-way ticket to a game over.

Even still, she wasn’t sure if she should move from her spot. It seemed as though the area was safe — maybe a quick breather will do some good. Her mind wasn’t all that focused on the gallery, either. She could only think of her brother. Where was he? The last time this happened. .. The discarded memories bobbed at the surface, haunting her as her hand subconsciously came up to her lips, and her teeth on her nails. The corpse in the bathroom, the growing nervousness and fear she felt from his absence, the seemingly lack of concern by the others — ‘The others. .. What would they do?’

Junpei, Lotus, Seven. .. What would they do if they were here, trying to find their loved one? She figured Junpei would keep moving — he didn’t seem like the kind to sit still. Should she take his advice? Or Lotus’s — stay where you are until help arrives? What about that mountain of a man, Seven? He’d probably do something heroic, she figured to herself, try to find and help any others. Sighing restlessly, she gave up trying to decide. She wasn’t them. She would have to choose a plan on her own terms, with her own advice. She had to find Light, and she had to get them both out of here.

Clover played with the key in her pocket, figuring it had to lead her somewhere, but before she could take a step to try and find the keyhole for it, she heard a voice call back — a boy’s voice.

“Yo — hang tight, aight? I’ll be there in a sec!”

The voice had a moderately thick city accent laced between the words, but it didn’t sound threatening or coarse or anything bad at all. The boy spoke with a tiny mix of concern and excitement in his tone, if anything. “Ah, yeah, sure!”

Sure she was happy someone heard her, but at the same time, she was a little surprised. She didn’t think it would be this easy to get a companion in this weird place.

Clover could hear his footsteps coming closer, and closer — and the more the distance shortened between them, the tenser she could feel herself become. She was prepared to run if need be, but as his portrait came into view, she loosened up a bit. He looked to be around her age, with messy, blonde hair that was hidden beneath a black beanie that featured a skill. He seemed like the total opposite of her: tall, muscular, big, filled with a sense of childishness. The girl in the oversized jacket couldn’t sense any ill will towards her from him, so she managed to relax a little, for now at least. Still wary, though, she gave him a once-over while he bent over to catch his breath, nearly glaring at him with distrusting eyes until —

“Oh, good, so you are real. I was a little worried that you might be one of those creepy mannequins on wheels or something.”

She knew she didn’t trust him, but she could use the company (she absolutely hated being alone, especially in dark rooms like this one) — so she took whatever he said and did with a grain of salt. She couldn’t drop her guard just because another person was there. She couldn’t afford it.

She had to find Light, and nothing would get in her way of accomplishing that.

“Heh, that .. that might ‘a taken a little more than just a sec. But I’m here like I said!”

With a small smirk, she crossed her arms, shifting her weight to her left hip. “Yeah, more like 39 of those, but who’s counting?” She waved her hand slightly, dismissing her own words, as she continued. “But you’re right. Thanks for coming, .. uh.”

She then realized, she had no clue what to call him. After a thought or two, she spoke again, this time holding her hands on her hips. ”.. We should probably think of something to call each other. Like code names, you know? .. Just in case whoever’s running this is listening in. I don’t want him to go after like, my friends or family next. ..”

“So .. you get sucked into th’ weirdo-fish painting, too? ‘Cause that’s how I got here. ‘s probably good we found each other, y’know? This don’t seem like the kinda place you wanna walk ‘round in on your own.”

She nodded, a little perplexed at the similarity. Seven’s words echoed through her head, of finding a point of commonality that leads straight to the perp, though she didn’t bring it up, thinking it to be of less important.  “Yeah, it was that dark fangly-toothed fish painting! But it didn’t really start until after I saw that other painting. .. What was it called —” She paused, before perking at the sudden remembrance. “Oh! ‘Fabricated World’! Yeah, that was when the lights flickered, and I lost my —”

Her brother! How could she forget?! Her eyes widened, and in a fit of both hope and impatience, she grabbed his shirt with both of her tiny hands, and completely dropped the last conversation.

“My brother! Hey, have you seen him? He’s like,” She let one of her hands go, and got on her tippy toes to try to reach what she remembered Light’s height to be at, “this tall, maybe, and has silver hair, and he’s blind.” Desperate for any information, she waited for a response from the other, not even caring that she was probably breaking around 4 social rules. “It’s really, really important that I find him!”

[respectit-yo-blog]

Creepy .. mannequins? Thinking back, he could vaguely remember statues that might have fit that description .. but those were back in the gallery, and he was pretty sure they weren't there anymore. The skater reached underneath his knit skull-cap to scratch at his head, mulling it over. "Uh .. 'm pretty sure mannequins or whatever can't walk, yo. So what'chu mean by that?" He hadn't had the pleasure of bumping into anything or anyone yet, besides for this encounter with Clover. "You tryin' to say there's .. monsters an' junk running 'round this place?"

If that was what she was trying to say, well .. he hadn't thought this place could get any worse, but that might just put the icing on the cake. "'Cause if that's what you're gettin' at, we shouldn't be standin' around talkin'. You feel me?" Safety was the boy's first concern -- for now, at least. Until he had a real plan of action.

He hadn't really known what to expect when he'd said what he had about it being a "little over a second" before he'd bumped into her .. But her following suit and teasing him about it was the last thing he would have expected. "Whaa --?" The blonde took a step back, a bit flustered by it. Sure, it was just one remark, but Beat had a tendency to over-react to things -- especially the most minute, insignificant things. "Yo, well .. I was jus' .. Ah, nevermind, man! Anyway --"

He decided to wave away the subject as quickly as he could manage to. Not only because there were obviously more important things to be discussing and worrying about, but because Beat didn't want to look like some kind of idiot when they'd only been talking a few minutes. He had a way of making bad first impressions -- or so he'd been told by Neku. So he was going to make sure it didn't turn out that way this time, and try as hard as he could to prevent it.

.. Silly as it sounded.

”.. We should probably think of something to call each other. Like code names, you know? .. Just in case whoever’s running this is listening in. I don’t want him to go after like, my friends or family next. ..”

"Code names." Beat repeated the suggestion, nodding his approval all the while. She was smart -- the thought of someone listening in on all of this hadn't even occurred to the skater. It probably wouldn't ever have, either, if she hadn't mentioned it. Either way, he already knew what he was going to tell her to call him; it was the same thing everyone else did. "Aight, then; you can call me Beat from here on in." It was dangerously close to his last name, Bito, but who else knew that besides for him? A select few was the answer, and as far as he knew, none of those people were here. "So what should I call you?"

“Yeah, it was that dark fangly-toothed fish painting! But it didn’t really start until after I saw that other painting. .. What was it called —Oh! ‘Fabricated World’! Yeah, that was when the lights flickered, and I lost my —”

So they had gotten here the same way -- that couldn't just be some kind of freaky coincidence. He'd opened his mouth to respond but was abruptly cut off -- Clover had grabbed hold of the front of his shirt, and had moved on to a completely different topic. She seemed distraught over it, too, and Beat didn't understand exactly why until what she'd said to him clicked in his head.

“My brother! Hey, have you seen him? He’s like, this tall, maybe, and has silver hair, and he’s blind. It’s really, really important that I find him!”

She'd lost someone, too. A sibling. She'd lost her brother just like he'd lost Rhyme.

"Nah, I .. I ain't never seen any guy lookin' like that. 'm sorry, yo." There was something different in Beat, and it was obvious. His shoulders slouched slightly. His eyes lowered to the ground for what seemed like forever, before he finally raised them to look back at the girl before him. ".. 've been lookin' for my li'l sis ever since I got here. Lost her in the gallery, 'round the same time you said you lost your bro." There's a pause, and he finishes, "She ain't nowhere to be found, either."

[ofthedragons-deactivated2012082]

`` white petals. [ intro, open ]

An art gallery wasn’t something she often went to. … In fact, she’s never truly been to one. Back home, before the Dothraki, the only paintings she’d seen were the ones hanging from the walls of her “castle”. They were nothing important, really. Just some of flowers, others of villages … a few of her family — so on and so forth. Nothing like this, however. Qarth was a brilliant city, she would admit. Beauties could be found on almost every single corner — but she wasn’t exactly too interested in them, she did appreciate them to an extent, though. And so she found herself in this gallery out of curiosity, and perhaps a bit of boredom. It was nice to have some time alone, once in a while. Away from Ser Jorah, Doreah, and the Thirteen. Her people were in good hands, well fed and rested. The only thing she really had to worry about was keeping them from taking things from the city … it was, however, in their nature and so she would have to deal with that later.

The only company she wouldn’t mind at the moment, though, was the company of her children — her dragons. After a long session of training and then feeding them, Deanerys had decided to let them rest, leaving them with Doreah. Oh, but she missed them, anyways. She would often wonder if this is what being a mother was like. Never wanting to leave your children behind, always worrying when you knew they were in safe hands. That right was stripped from her once, and it was given back to her when her dragons had hatched. 

Arms folded loosely over her stomach she made her way through the art gallery, sparing a few seconds to view some of the art work before making her way to the next. Every once in a while, she would come across a few of the inhabitants of Qath and they would bow their head. With a light smile, and a nod of her head she would dismiss them before continuing on her way. Once she had gone around the bottom floor of the gallery, she decided to make her way to the top floor, where there weren’t too many people. In fact, there weren’t too many paintings up here now that she noticed. Only a few smaller ones adorning the walls next to a large one in the far corner.

Slowly walking towards the painting, the silver haired female eyed the odd looking portrait. “Fabricated World.” There was something so … dark, about it. The palette was one she had never seen before — compared to the others, it was a bit out of place and —

BANG!

The sudden loud thud had caused her to jump lightly, green eyes widening for a split second before she regained her composure. Maybe something had fallen in the lower floor. Turning her head back to the paintings, a slender brow raised upward at the odd sight. Was there paint leaking from the image? Lifting her hand up, Deanerys hesitantly reached for the blue substance coming from behind the painting, before snatching her hand back when a quick series of bangs reached her ears. Spinning around, she dropped her hand to her side as she eyed the red letters that marked the ground.

COME, DANY

What?

Turning back to the painting, the blue liquid had now turned into letters. Inhaling deeply but quietly, she slowly crouched down to level as she leaned in to read what it said.

come down below dany i’ll show you someplace secret

Was this some kind of joke? If this was some kind of invitation to a gathering, then Jorah would have came to get her, right? Her lips thinned and she stood. She was a Khaleesi … she wouldn’t be scared this way, she wouldn’t allow anyone to try and scare her. She was the Mother of Dragons. The rightful heir to the Iron Throne. She would make sure to speak to he or she who was deciding to play this trick on her. The gallery had darkened considerably since she had last noticed — which she found odd, since it wasn’t that long ago when light shun through the windows. Had she decided to pay this gallery a visit much later in the day than she had imagined? It didn’t matter now as she made her way back down below … noticing that there was no one else in the gallery anymore. Where had everybody gone to? Was this part of their little game? No matter, she’d escort her way out of here as soon as she spoke to he who was in charge. 

Slowly walking through the empty galls of the gallery, she came across one of the paintings she looked over before. There was something about it that made her uneasy … perhaps it was the odd looking fish which was depicted in the image … or maybe it was just those blue footprints, the same shade as the substance from the room above, which was leading into the painting. Biting the inside of her cheek, Dany cautiously made her way around the painting to where the footprints were, leaning down to reach for the painting —

With a small yelp, she found herself being pushed towards the painting by what felt like someone SHOVING her in. Expecting to fall onto the floor, she was rather surprised that she fell right INTO it.

—-

With a loud thud, Dany fell onto the cold, hard floor. Sucking in a large amount of air through her teeth, she tensed at the pain that was currently running through her body. What in the name of the Gods had happened? Where was she? Once she pain had dulled, she slowly got up and dusted herself down. Placing her hand on the wall she made her way down the steps she had landed on before taking a left. Sliding her hand across the wall, she quickly brought it back when something cold and slimy had touched her fingers. Green eyes looked over the wall as her stomach churned just a bit.

     O        E           O                  C                 M C        M          C         M                     O                  E                                             E 

This wasn’t right. None of this felt right. Swallowing thickly, she followed the letters without much of a hurry, trying to get herself to calm down before anyone saw her this way. She was a Dragon. Dragon’s were fierce, powerful creatures. Dany will not allow herself to seem meek and controllable once again. If this continued, whoever was doing this would meet her wrath. Reaching a door, she notice a small vase atop a table blocking it’s entrance — a single white rose inside of it. It had been wilting, it’s remaining petals turning a light brown color. Slender fingers wrapped lightly around it’s stem as she picked the rose from it’s vase. She wasn’t sure why, but something in her gut had told her to pick it up before deciding to move the table. Once that was out of the way, she entered the room in hopes of finding someone who would clear up what was going on.

Instead, another painting. Wonderful. … However, this time, there was a blue key on the ground. She was beginning to get sick of the color blue. Never mind that, though. She picked up the key without a seconds hesitation before looking back up at the painting … more so, it’s description.

“When the rose wilts, so too will you wilt away.”

Her fingers wrapped a little tighter around the wilted rose in her hand. Those words had unsettled her more than she already was. She would brush it off as some coincidence, it didn’t mean anything, right? Shaking her head, Dany made her way out of the room, ignoring the words on the wall, quickly making her way down the hallway before coming to a halt.

T H I E    F 

Worded in front of her in red letters. Her brows narrowed as she stepped over the red letters without paying much attention. This was beginning to become insulting. How dare they call her a thief. She had taken nothing of importance, a wilted rose and a key were nothing to get upset about. She would return the key to it’s rightful owner if she ever found her way out of her. As for the rose … it was already dying, what was there to do with it? Coming to the end of the hall, she reached another door. This must have been the way out. Quickly reaching for the door knob, she wrapped her hand around it before turning.

Nothing. 

STEP …. STEP.

Becoming rigid, she pulled her hand away from the door and glanced to her left. Someone was coming down the stairs. … … There was nothing to fear. She could take care of herself, no one would do her harm in this city. They had promised her that much. Tucking the rose into a pocket, she slowly took a step back from the door and turned to the dark hall.

“Who goes there …?”

Hopefully, it was a friend and not a foe.

[respectit-yo-blog]

The skater had been walking for what felt like ages before he finally had to stop and take a short break. It was now that the exhaustion started to kick in, and he realized how tired he was becoming. He tried to will himself to move that much further, just to see where this hallway would end, but he couldn't. After a few more steps, he found that he absolutely had to take some kind of a break. Turning to his left, he saw the stairs that he'd tumbled down to get here in the first place and figured it'd be alright if he sat there -- for a minute, at the most.

Besides, if he had come down these steps to get here, who was to say that another wouldn't show up by coming down these same steps? It might not have been the best or most well thought-out plan of action, but he really didn't have any other options right now. There was a whole other stretch of hallway that he'd have to cover if he wanted to find the keyhole that the blue key fit into, and he wasn't quite up to walking down there now, even if he really wanted to. He had to sit down; he felt like if he didn't, his legs would give out, and he'd wind up passed out and on the floor.

A loud sigh escaped Beat's lips as he sat on the last step of the staircase, putting his head in his hands. Just a minute. Just a minute, and then he'd get right back to finding the exit to this place; he couldn't afford to waste any more time than that.

"Damn it .." .. .. He'd definitely wound up spending more than "just a minute" sitting on those steps. Once he sat down, he found himself drowning in his own thoughts. What of his sister -- what about Rhyme? Where was she? He told himself over and over that he'd find her and that she was okay, but .. what if the reality of the situation was that she wasn't? What if something happened to her? What if whatever had gotten him and brought him here .. what if it took her, too? She wouldn't be alright, if she was wandering this place on her own; she was strong, but not in the way that Beat was. She always had Beat there to protect her, to watch over her. It wasn't to say that she couldn't handle her own, but he had been hearing weird noses all the time that he was here. What if there were monsters akin to Noise here? She wouldn't be able to handle it on her own, and he knew it --

Finally, thankfully, a voice cut through his thoughts and snapped him out of whatever "trance" he was in; it took him by surprise, and he jumped up, letting out something of a yelp.

"Who goes there ..?"

It took a second for him to recover from the initial shock, but when he did, he managed to stand up straight and peer around the corner and down the dark hallway, in the direction from which the voice came. He was probably being silly; if there was someone calling out, they must have heard him either walking around or muttering to himself. The idea of the latter being the case embarrassed him for a second, but he shook it off and decided to answer back to .. whoever it turned out to be. "Uh .. jus' .. jus' stay there a minute, yeah? 'm comin'." With that, he took his first step around the corner and then down the dark hallway.

It felt like forever before he saw the person that the voice belonged to -- it was a woman, with long hair that was either white or an extremely light blonde. Without realizing, Beat let out a loud sigh of relief; part of him was expecting this to be some kind of a ruse, cooked up by whoever was running this place. Thankfully, though, she looked real, and right now, that was more than enough for him.

When he got close enough, he stopped and raised a hand to give the woman before him a slight wave. "Ain't no one else around, so I'm guessin' you're the one that was callin' out, right?" She looked well enough -- at least, from what he could see from where he was standing. Whatever was crawling around this place and making all the weird noises, she hadn't had the misfortune of bumping into it. Still (and though it was probably a silly question), he had to ask. "You aight, miss?"

[truth-hadgone-blog]

★❜〈 worst nightmare » // intro & open

It wasn’t very often that Light wanted to go out into the world — in fact, it was even rarer that he should suggest it himself — so when he asked her if she would like to go to an art gallery with him, she jumped at the first word.

She didn’t, however, jump at the chance to be the tour guide to her blind big brother. But she is first and foremost his little sister. As much as the historical and cultural significance of this or that piece bored her, she had a responsibility. She promised to care for him, through thick and thin. She would be his eyes. She would be there for him. It was her fault, after all, that he was handicapped. ‘My fault’, she reminded herself. ‘It’s my fault.’

Was there anything worse than knowing you put the person you love the most into such an awful state of being? Not that she could think of. Regardless, it was time to put pessimism aside. This was supposed to be a day to put all those things behind them, to start fresh! There was no need to be gloomy! With a quick turn of the shoulder and neck, and a bright smile, “Hey, Light, Let’s go t —! … Huh?”

She saw nothing, no one. Weird, but it wasn’t too unusual for him to go wandering off deep in thought. Still, she swore he was standing right next to her a moment ago. She knew he wasn’t lost, except maybe lost in thought, but .. an unsettling, familiar feeling in the pit of her stomach grew with each passing second. Anxiety grew, and grew, and grew as Clover searched for him to no avail. “Light! Where are you?! If .. If this is some kind’a sick joke, it’s not funny! Light!”

Her feet lead her astray, passing the strangers that congregated around all different kinds of paintings and sculptures, into a room that featured the largest painting she has ever laid eyes on: “Fabricated World,” it read on the plaque. It didn’t look like a worthy monument — to her, all she could see were miscellaneous scribbles and colors that seemed endless. Not only that, but the feeling in the pit of her stomach seemed to have worsened with just one glance at the painting. Something didn’t feel right, not at all. 

That’s when it started: this nightmare. The lights flickered rapidly, sending her body into fight or flight. Panicked, she threw her head around, checking her surrounding with a distrusting glare. “BANG!” — a loud noise came from what seemed to be the lower level of the art gallery, and she found herself involuntarily throwing her head in that direction. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she gulped loudly. It felt too .. planned. Clover looked around once again, more calmly, to see if any of her surroundings changed. Nothing. Sighing in (somewhat of a) relief, she continued her search. She walked lightly, her tiny heels making a click, click, clicking sound against the empty tiles and a thump, thump, thump in her chest. Both sounds echoed throughout the place, but she wasn’t about to give up. She had to find him. She just had to.

She made her way downstairs, but was stopped completely by a second flickering of the lights, then .. blackout. She could barely see in front of her. With deep breaths, she continued down the stairs, to the left. ‘Maybe he went outside?’  The doors were locked, but there was always the window. .. Trying to keep calm, she walked towards it. Slowly. Walking. Towards. The. — ! Oh god. That was blood. No. Get out. Getoutgetoutgetout. Her mind flew into a frenzy of fear as she made a dash for the stairs. Nothing good came from blood. She knew that much. It was safe upstairs, she checked. At least, safer than here. ..

She ran as fast as her little legs could carry her, past the mannequins, past the wired couch, and back to the painting that started it all: “Fabricated World”. She caught her breath, bending over as her petite chest rose and fell rapidly. It was just too much. Where was he? She couldn’t have lost him. .. She has to find him. .. Where is he?

A blue splotch of paint dripped from the piece, catching her eye. Curiously, she found herself drawn to it, and touched it ever-so-lightly with the tips of her fingers, when —

A thump, and letters in red soon scribbled onto the floor, almost angrily.

COME CLOVER

Come where? Skeptically, though shaken, she stared at the sprawled words on the ground, refusing to believe it might be blood. She turned her head back towards the mysterious painting, to find writings where the blue splotch used to be.

come down below clover ill show you someplace secret

A huff, though a frail one, “That’s just creepy and gross.” She couldn’t afford to lose it now. She had to keep going. She had to find her brother. Plus, it really did take on a new meaning if you added .. well, scandalous conotations. Regardless, she marched on to her own beat, figuring that there was only one ‘down’ at this point in location — downstairs. She really didn’t want to go back down there, but it was the only lead she had. She wandered a few steps until she found herself at the center piece of the first floor gallery, the work Light had pondered a great deal over — “Abyss of the Deep”. She had described it to her brother not all that long ago as a “dark fangly-toothed sea monster thing that was in serious need of a flashlight”. The mere memory of 20 minutes ago brought paleness back to her face, as she bit her bottom lip. She didn’t notice herself being subconsciously pulled into the painting, little by little, step by step.

Dazed and confused at this point, she found herself in a long hallway of blue unlike the white walls she had just gotten accustomed to. The pit in her stomach came back, as she took her first look around. Nothing worth noting, except an unprecedented feeling of dread and fear. Wanting to keep moving, she began her march to the right, walking with churchmouse steps and darting eyes.

Not a second later, another message scribbled its way onto the wall. Clover began to suspect the suspect was broken in some way, as it only spelt one word over and over again: “COME.” She gave it as little mind as she humanely could, thinking it best to ignore it for now. It was then that Clover noticed it: a black rose, wilting, sitting longingly in a vase. Drawn by its lonely beauty, she took it without thinking, and stared at it for a few good minutes. Paying next to no mind to the end-table, she made her way to the door, staring at the rose, only to have her smack into it like a blundering fool. “Ugh, stupid table — !” With a hard kick, she knocked the end-table over, muttering under her breath as she opened the door carelessly.

Inside was a painting of a woman, with hair so long that it .. came out of the frame? Clover cocked an eyebrow, more skeptical than ever, until a glint caught her eye. She made her way over, to find a key in the center of the room, which she soon stored in her oversized jacket pocket. Before leaving, she turned to see the paper underneath the portrait, and to read whatever it had to say.

When the rose withers, so too will you wither away.

This was becoming more and more ridiculous, and nerve-wracking at the same time. The dark rose still in her left hand, she left the room, pretending she didn’t hear a thud come from behind the door she just left through. That’s right, everything would be okay. She would find Light, and this whole nightmare would be over. Everything would be okay.

Everything was not okay. One step, and even more words sprawled out onto the floor and walls, spelling only one word over and over again: “THIEF”.

What? How could they have known she took the key and rose — The rose! She looked at her left hand, but it was gone. Did she drop it? She turned around, and lo’ and behold, there it was, lying motionless on the ground. With a sigh of relief, she picked it back up, and decided to store it safely this time in her other pocket.

“That could have ended badly. ..” Mentally kicking herself for being so careless, she then realized, what was she doing? Why did she panic over a stupid rose? Still unsure about her own motives, but deciding that it was pointless to think too hard over that, she looked around. Time’s ticking, and she was tired of wandering around in silence.

“Hey! Is anyone out there? C’mon, say something!”

[respectit-yo-blog]

Beat had waited some time for some kind of response to his question before he decided it was time to start moving again. Part of him -- probably the part that coincided with the sinking feeling in his gut -- knew that he wasn't going to find anyone in this place that could help. At least, not right away. The other part, however, still clung to the idea that someone would come help him. As he waited, the skater tried to keep himself calm with the idea that this was all some kind of a joke. "Yeah! Why else would Rhyme've been so set on bringin' me to some cheesy art gallery? This is pro'lly just her idea of a joke .. And y'know what else? Phones an' Shiki are probably in on it, too."

He was likely in denial, he knew it deep down .. but these thoughts kept him calm for the time being, how far fetched they were. He absolutely could not lose his cool, no matter how bad things seemed at the moment. Usually Beat was prone to such things, to "freaking out", but he couldn't afford it right now. He would get out of here and he'd find his sister, he was sure of it. And if it turned out that all of this wasn't just a prank that his friends and Rhyme were playing on him, maybe it was a dream. The teenager closed his eyes tightly, with the idea, "maybe if I shut my eyes real tight, and then open them up, I'll be back in the living room at home with my sister".

.. Of course, it wasn't that easy. When he opened his eyes and was greeted by the blue walls and the blood-red messages on said walls and the floor, he knew that much. ".. Gotta keep movin'." Those were the last words he spoke before he actually started to head off, away from the crudely-written message on the floor calling him a thief. He was tired of looking at it -- what had he really stolen in the long run, anyway? A half-dead rose, which was probably forgotten and of no use to anyone, considering the vase was bone-dry. There was also a key that was lying on the floor in the previous room, but .. if it wasn't meant to be taken, why would it be sitting there? A loud sigh escaped the blonde's lips as he reached the place he'd first found himself, after he'd been sucked into the sea-creature painting. He'd just come from the right side of the hallway and found all that there was to be found, so he figured the left side of the hallway would be his best bet. "'s gotta be a keyhole for this key, an' I'm gonna find it."

However, he never actually got the chance to find the keyhole he was bent on finding. It wasn't too long after he'd actually started down the left side of the hall that he heard the voice. It sounded like a girl's voice .. what's more, it sounded like it was close.

"Hey! Is anyone out there? C'mon, say something!"

It took him completely by surprise, especially because of where it sounded like it was coming from: the right side of the hallway. Hadn't he just been there a moment ago? He didn't see anyone .. well, save for the weird lady in that painting, but he doubted that she would even count. He did a full turn, so that he could look back in the direction that he'd just come from.

If there was someone down that hallway .. He had to find them. Not only to have someone beside him to help him out, but to make sure they were okay.

If he did get there and it turned out this was just another one of this place's tricks .. Well, he'd deal with that when he got there.

"Yo -- hang tight, aight? I'll be there in a sec!" With that, he charged down the hallway. It didn't take him too long to reach the spot he was standing at before and see that there was, in fact, someone standing there. She was a fairly average height, and had almost-bushy pink hair, tied up into a set of pigtails. The sweater she was wearing looked a little baggy, like it might've been a size too big. And, for the most part, she looked okay -- she didn't look hurt. Overall .. she looked real.

A wave of relief washed over him as he slowed his "charge" and stopped a few feet before her. She was real. He was sure of it. Bending over to catch his breath, he looked up at her from beneath his skull-cap and gave (or tried to, it proved to be pretty hard while he was out of breath) a short laugh. "Heh, that .. that might 'a taken a little more than just a sec. But I'm here like I said!" He took just one more second to catch his breath before straightening up, giving the girl before him a quick once-over. He was sure he'd never seen her before, but her style kind of reminded him of the girls in Shibuya; maybe she came from there and he just .. hadn't known? Or .. maybe not. Either way, standing around gawking wouldn't get him anywhere. He'd actually have to ask, but that subject would probably have to wait until later on.

"So .. you get sucked into th' weirdo-fish painting, too? 'Cause that's how I got here." Beat pauses a second, then goes on. "'s probably good we found each other, y'know? This don't seem like the kinda place you wanna walk 'round in on your own."

[respectit-yo-blog]

*♔ :long "dream" // fw intro&open!

As a way to spend their first official day of summer, Rhyme suggested that she and Beat go to an art gallery -- and that suggestion led them to where they were now, standing before a row of paintings on the wall. While it was hardly Beat's activity of choice, this was his younger sister, and he would do absolutely anything to make her happy. If Rhyme being happy meant he'd have to sit in a stuffy art gallery for a couple of hours, looking at paintings and sculptures that didn't much interest him (and, admittedly, creeped him out a bit) .. Well, then, so be it. He owed her that much, after the things that happened to them in the Reapers' Game ..

The teenager shook his head. No, those days were over with. He and Rhyme were back home, safe and sound -- there was no reason to think about that anymore. He started to speak, turning to look at his younger sibling as he did ..

"Aight, let's move on to the next couple 'a paintings, Rhyme. -- .. Rhyme?" .. But she wasn't standing next to him. Strange, considering he was positive that she was there only a few moments ago. He looked to his other side, behind him, and all around the room that he was in, but to no avail. Rhyme was gone.

"Yo, Rhyme! Where you at?"

It was possible that she'd went ahead without him, but .. Wouldn't she have told him before she left? There was an odd feeling in the pit of Beat's stomach, but he tried to brush it off. They were in an art gallery, for crying out loud -- what was the worst that could possibly happen? She just went a little further ahead, and he'd just have to go find her; that was all. His mind set, Beat nodded to himself and started off to find his sister, choosing to go down a hall that led to a rather odd-looking painting.

He knew he didn't have the time to be wasting right now, but when he saw this painting, he felt almost compelled to walk over and look at it .. and so he did. It looked like a mess of scribbles in all different colors. A quick glance to the description beneath the painting told him the title: "Fabricated World". It looked nothing like the other paintings he'd seen so far, and for a minute, he questioned why it was put there in the first place. ".. Don't look like no world I ever  --"

The teen wasn't able to finish his sentence, because it was then that the lights began to flicker; they were followed by a loud "BANG!" that seemed to have come from the lower level of the gallery. Beat turned to look over at the hallway from which he'd just came. He couldn't be 100-percent sure due to the flickering lights, but it didn't seem like anything had changed. Even so, it didn't seem like he'd just imagined the sound, either. Frowning, he turned to look over to the other hallway when something caught his eye. There was blue paint on the wall beneath the painting, and .. it looked like it was coming from the painting.

He took a step forward, inspecting it closely and then tentatively reaching a hand out towards it. That was when he heard the loud, consecutive thumping noises coming from behind him. He pulled his hand back and turned, instinctively putting his fists up and preparing to fight something. However, he was faced with nothing but letters scrawled out on the floor.

COME BEAT

He took a step back from the "message" -- whether it was written in blood or in paint, he couldn't tell, and he honestly did not want to find out. Turning back to the "Fabricated World", he saw that there was now something written in the blue paint on the wall.

come down below beat ill show you someplace secret

Was this supposed to be some kind of clue? Frustrated, the teenager let out a groan. He wasn't good with these kinds of things; even the simplest of problems proved to be tough for him .. which was why he always had Rhyme with him. But she wasn't here now, and for all he knew, the thing that was leaving these messages took her and that was why she was missing -- "No -- No way! I gotta keep my head up. I gotta think. Down below. Down below .." As he repeated those words to himself, his feet took him down the stairs to the lower level. He wasn't quite sure what he was looking for, but if it was "down below", he figured the first floor was the best place to look. He wandered for a bit before he found the first thing that he and Rhyme saw when they entered the gallery. The title was "Abyss of the Deep", and it depicted some kind of sea-creature. There was a closed gate around it when they'd first seen it, but this time, the gate was open. Not only that, but there were blue footprints leading into the painting itself. He followed the prints to the opening in the gate, and then he walked in towards the painting. But, before he could register what was happening or even inspect the "Abyss", he felt as though he was being pulled into the painting itself.

Though slightly dazed, the next place he found himself was a long hallway of blue, much unlike the white walls he'd seen in the gallery itself. Was he no longer there? It felt like the same place, but at the same time, it didn't; this hallway had a much creepier atmosphere. A shudder ran through the blonde, and he decided that standing around would do him no good; he instead turned to his right and walked in that direction, down the seemingly-endless hallway.

Immediately, he found another message written on the wall. This one was just the same word over and over: "COME". It made him tense, and he found himself staring at it rather than looking ahead of him as he walked. This caused him to slam into the small end-table that lay ahead. Luckily, all the force did to the table itself was push it aside, out of the way of the door behind it. However, the same could not be said for the vase sitting on top of the table. It was tilting over, about to fall --

"Crap --!" Beat lunged and managed to grab it and place it back on the table before it could fall and break entirely. It was now that he took note of the black rose sitting in the vase; it looked as though it was wilting. Something told him to take it along with him, and so he did indeed decide to. He took it out of the vase carefully, and then placed it into one of the deep pockets of his shorts. With all of that done with, he looked at the door ahead of him and decided to open it, since he'd managed to un-block the way to it when he fell into the table.

Inside was a painting of a woman whose hair seemed to come out of the frame. There was also a message scrawled on a piece of paper beneath it, and finally, there lay a key on the floor in the center of the room, which Beat grabbed up and placed in the pocket opposite the rose before actually going up to read the message.

When the rose withers, so too will you wither away.

The blonde reached underneath his skull-cap to scratch at his head before he heard more thudding noises, coming from the hallway outside. He exited the room, not noticing that the previously-empty vase on the table was now filled with water, and walked towards the noise he'd heard. On the floor not too far away, there lay another message written in the same red liquid as all the others. This one was just one word: "THIEF".

Did this have to do with the key? Or with the rose? He didn't have the time to mull it over; about as soon as he read the message, he heard footsteps. Footsteps, and, if he strained his ears, the faint sound of voices. He braces himself before calling out to whoever might be listening.

"Yo -- there anyone out there?"

Hopefully, someone would hear him and come to help him out.