paixaorpg | If we've met before, is it all a dream? [completed]

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If we've met before, is it all a dream? [completed]

Character(s): Vyers, Laharl, Gwen
Content: Laharl tries to knock some sense into his parents. ... Take your bets on how this will turn out folks! Bets please! Take your bets here! Cash only!
Setting: Vyers' apartment... around the bathroom.
Time: Week 26, nighttime
Warnings: Fog effects, Vyers getting punched some more, angst

A moment to think. That was all it had started out as. A moment to splash some cold water on his face and pull himself together before he went back out into the apartment and back to ignoring the delusions that had been plaguing him, since... Well, he really couldn't tell anymore now, could he? It had only been in the last few days that he'd finally come to see them for what they were. During the night, mostly, which made perfect sense. They were supposed to be creatures of darkness, were they not? Of course their true selves would be revealed then. They had tried so long to keep him from knowing... He had been fooled for so long! How had he never noticed the yellow eyes? They would attack him at any moment, he knew, especially now. They had to know that he knew, didn't they?

He had attempted to ignore all of them. Every single one. If he paid no attention to them, he wouldn't be fooled. He just needed to keep an eye out for any attack and make his own food--the food that was made by others really wasn't there, after all. He was alone in this place. Completely alone. Everyone else was either in his head or one of those things in disguise. And those who were the latter... He could not kill them as long as they wore those faces. At times he had thought about it, he had been close, but deep down there was doubt and fear and he had stayed his hand. It was good that she was currently out. She was the one who hurt the most. He couldn't do anything to her, and he feared that should that one ever attack, he would surely die.

Vyers' journal had been buried in a closet long ago, right when he had begun to have his suspicions. Who else would send those illusions? Who else would kidnap the people in this place and torment him so but those who were already capable of reading any of the journal entries? One of them had mentioned a tracker. No, best to keep it off and hide it. Leave it alone so they couldn't track him. Ah, but now he wondered if he should leave and toss it away, just to be safe, but even that was too difficult. He could barely stop shaking long enough to take a step as it was, much less leave the bathroom at the moment.

He couldn't explain this sudden fear. Was it because he knew they would attack? That right now he was cornered? She--it--wasn't there and that was good, but that still left him with plenty more. Plenty more glaring yellow eyes watching him with hungry, accusing eyes, and why did they have to be so accusing to begin with?! Must his mind torture him as well amongst all that was already happening around him?

He gripped the edge of the sink, suddenly needing to hold onto something, anything, to make sure at least one thing in this madness was real. Was it...?

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Ever since Flonne's post, Laharl had searched everywhere he could think of for his missing vassal. Eventually, exhausted and hungry, he'd returned to the apartment, hoping maybe she'd come back here or something. It was probably wishful thinking, but it's all he had at this point. He just had no idea what was wrong with her or where she could have hidden herself.

She'd been fine before... he still couldn't figure out what had gotten into her. Only thing he was certain of was, undoubtedly, the Organization had something to do with it.

Closing the door behind him, Laharl found the apartment to be quiet. There was definitely no sign of Flonne. Crossing through the rooms, he paused at the site of a note on the table.

Picking it up, he felt a fresh wave of worry. His mom had taken off? What? Why? How long had this note been sitting here?! Was she back now? Why had his old man let her just... just leave?! He supposed he'd have to go back out and look for her, if she wasn't here, although he was hardly in any shape to. Dropping the note back to the table, Laharl wondered where this old man was, anyways. Was he gone too?

Looking around the apartment, Laharl couldn't find any sign of his mother being here, nor was his old man, for that matter. That was... weird. Only place he hadn't checked was... the bathroom.

Going to the bathroom, he did realize the door was shut, but it sounded like someone was there...

Laharl didn't think twice about knocking loudly on the door. "Oi! ...Mid-boss!" He'd almost said old man, but it would have been hard to explain if it was his mother in there.

Vyers sucked in a breath, a new wave of panic washing over him. He shut his eyes and put his head in his hands, muttering to himself to just ignore whatever it was out there. It wasn't his son, that much he knew, and as long as he remembered that and made sure to keep his distance he would be fine. He just... had to ignore it. Maybe if he waited long enough it would just go away.

Still...

Vyers glanced at the door, gaze occasionally flicking over toward the doorknob.

There was a click as he locked the door, just in case.

Listening, Laharl heard no reply, just the click of the lock? Grabbing the door handle, he tried to turn it, but, sure enough, it was locked.

Unamused Laharl scowled.

"If that's you in there, get the HELL out! I need to talk to you!" he said, raising his voice. Who the heck was in here? If it wasn't his old man, wouldn't they say something?

...Something weird was going on here.

Vyers remained silent, returning to the sink, his grip tight on the edge as he shut his eyes and continued to do his best to ignore what was going on on the other side of the door.

And still... silence.

Laharl was losing his patience. He was far, far too grumpy, tired and hungry to possibly put up with this. "Dammit! If you don't answer me I'm going to break down the door!" he shouted, threateningly.

"Leave me be!" he finally snapped, unable to take it anymore. Why did they have to look like those he cared about? Why?! And why did he have to respond?! He growled, angry at himself for giving in.

It was his father! What the HELL?!

"Old Man? DAMMIT! What the HELL are you doing?!" Laharl snapped, not quite so loudly now that he knew it was his father in there. He couldn't fathom why on earth he was in there or why he was trying to avoid him.

"Flonne's still missing, Mom's GONE, and you're hiding in the DAMN BATHROOM!?" he cried, incredulously.

And now it wouldn't go. "Leave me be! Why will you all not leave me alone?!" he cried again, putting his head in his hands. "Leave or attack me and end this!"

Laharl stared at the door, baffled at first, before he put his hand to his forehead. Oh dammit! Had his old man ended up like Flonne? Unbelievable! This was the last thing he needed!

"Well, too bad! I'm not leaving you alone, you moron!"

He probably should just leave him in there, but he needed to find his mom AND Flonne. He... needed help.

With Laharl's strength, forcing the door open was hardly difficult. His father would have realized locking the door was moot. A strong blow from Laharl's foot easily broken the bolt through the frame of the door, sending the door bashing into the back wall.

Laharl stood in the doorway, tired and extremely unamused at this point.

Vyers barely managed to dodge the door as it went past and whipped around to face the doorway, barely restrained fear in his eyes. Yellow... Yellow, it was always yellow! Just like before and staring at him as though he were truly Laharl! Anger bubbled up inside him, blinding him to the significance of exactly where he was, and without thinking he screamed, tossing a ball of energy and charging toward the doorway.

"Stop wearing his face!" he shouted, eyes white with rage.

The last thing he was expecting was to be suddenly attacked by his own father. It took the Overlord by a bit of a surprise. Lifting his arm to block the energy ball, he was knocked back slightly by the energy attack, but for the most soaked the energy. He normally would have side-stepped it, but it wouldn't have done the apartment any good.

As for the charging Vyers, Laharl reached out as he came close, and grabbed him by the arm. Taking advantage of the demon's forward momentum, Laharl then stuck a foot out to trip his father over and slam his him down to the ground. Quickly Laharl grabbed his shoulder shoving it hard to the floor with one hand, his other tightly grasped his father's arm in a slightly awkward position, pinning it as well.

While Laharl had plenty of strength, he lacked much in the way of mass. He needed to rely on strength to keep his father down.

"W-what is WRONG with you?!"

Vyers twisted around in Laharl's hold, becoming more and more panicked and desperate as time went on. He was unresponsive to Laharl's questioning, instead continuing to thrash about like a trapped animal. Eventually however, he gave up, feelings of hopelessness and despair starting to come over him. He was going to die here. After all that... it was going to kill him. A part of him couldn't help but wonder why it hadn't yet.

He squeezed his eyes shut. "At least it is not her..." he whispered. If it was the one that looked like her...

He didn't know. He just didn't know.

Laharl held tight, doing everything he could to keep the demon pinned, though Vyers was definitely making this difficult. There was nothing much more Laharl could do, since it didn't seem like he was ever going to ANSWER him or anything.

Finally it seemed like his father had given up trying to struggle, but Laharl didn't let up. Not yet.

"Oi? Are you done now?"

More questions. Did it really matter if he answered now? He couldn't get free, unless... He attempted to jerk away one last time to no avail, only hurting his arm in the process.

No, he wasn't going to be going free anytime soon.

"So the image of my son is to my my executioner?" he asked the air distantly. "Ah... How cruel the mind is."

"Executioner?" Laharl echoed, bewildered.

Okay, there was something seriously wrong going on. His father did have whatever the heck Flonne had. Great, just... great. Was everyone ending up like this? Why wasn't he affected, if that was the case?

So... his father was lost in a delusion. A delusion that was, apparently, making Vyers think something was pretending to be him?

Laharl kept a hold on his father's arm and reached out for his father's head, planting his hand on the back of it, lightly bumping it back against the floor boards.

"You IDIOT! Snap out of it, already!" he snapped, feeling exasperated again. "I'm not some "image"! It's ME."

Edited 2010-11-23 06:18 (UTC)

Vyers glared at a wall. "Yes, you are. Just as it was her before? A convincing illusion, nothing more." He scoffed, stare moving to the floor. When he spoke again, he was more subdued. "And now it is that I have gone truly mad." Here he was speaking to something that only existed in his mind, was he not?

"If you are who you say, prove it to me."

Well, at least his father was now talking to him. It was something, at least, but Laharl wasn't sure how to prove it.

"Prove it? How the hell do you want me to do that?"

Vyers wasn't sure how to answer that. How could he know whether or not this Laharl was real? It would be stupid to assume that he was. That only invited his death. But even so... What if it was? What if it was really him? He would have somewhere to stand. Someone real in this sea of falsehood.

Ah, but that was desperation speaking! Had he fallen so low? Even then, he still didn't have an answer. He didn't have any way of telling. "I... do not know."

The young Overlord sighed. Great. That was real helpful.

Laharl mulled for a moment over what to do, and finally he rose to his feet. Then slowly and rather hesitantly, he released his father's arm.

"Well, I don't know..." he mumbled, stepping around his father and plopping back down, cross legged, where his father could see him. "Shouldn't you just be able to tell I'm really your son or something stupid like that?"

Vyers sat up, not looking at Laharl at first. "Tell...?" he echoed, brow furrowing. "I suppose, but..." This panic... Why did he feel like running as far as he could without looking back? Not like his usual want to avoid awkward situations, but pure panic. Fear. Perhaps... something was wrong. Perhaps Laharl had a point. Perhaps...

"Yellow--" It came out in a single gasp, and Vyers pressed himself to the wall, eyes wide. Yellow eyes. Still yellow. He had nearly been tricked! But why? Why did he still feel like something was wrong with all of this?!

"Yellow? Yellow what?" Laharl asked, confused and tense as Vyers was panicking once again. He didn't really want to have to pin the older demon down again, but he needed to figure out what was going on, and he couldn't do that if he let his father just run away.

"Eyes! Your eyes! Must I point it out?! You are not who you say you are!" The words were pouring out of the older demon's mouth at this point, and not even Vyers himself was sure exactly what he was doing anymore.

His eyes were yellow? The only time that happened was when he was pissed off, as far as he knew. Laharl was fairly certain they weren't glowing right now.

"No, you're just not looking hard enough! Look again. My eyes aren't yellow!" Laharl said, remaining where he was for now.

"I am looking!" he snapped back, beginning to lose his patience all over again. But he shook his head in an attempt to clear it and looked back over at Laharl. He swallowed and forced down another wave of panic that threatened to overtake him. Yellow. Still yellow. And...

No. There was a flick of red there, wasn't there? He relaxed a moment, blinking in disbelief. But was it real? He tensed again. He couldn't tell. He just couldn't tell. But he was still looking. He had to know.

He... really didn't believe it was him. Just as Flonne had been on the journals. This wasn't good. If his father was like this, what about his mom? Could she end up affected too? Or could she be already? Then again, she left a note... But that didn't mean anything, did it? If she wasn't then, she could be now.

Slowly, Laharl scooted a bit closer. "Come on, Old Man... My eyes are red," he encouraged, quietly.

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If we've met before, is it all a dream? [completed]

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