4765/The Morningstar

The Morningstar
Date of Scene:	08 November 2016
Location:	The Realm of Gensokyo
Synopsis:	Drowned Ophelia has woken once more - and looks to begin anew, planting the seeds of the next Season of Pain. Also involves children's toys.
Cast of Characters:	975, 807

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Drowned Ophelia (975) has posed:
It began with a sound; The sorrowful strands of guitar that roll outwards across the magical forest, a buzzing sound that curls about the tree trunks, disturbing the peaceful silence within. And upon its dark fingers comes the whisper of the unnatural; DEATH METAL. The source is a dark figure who slowly glides along the forest path, the Six Stringed Sorrow grasped loosely in hands. Clawed fingers pluck and slide along the strings, while accompanying sound shivers the air about. Summoning the haunting affects of her music, even as her face is hidden beneath the downward tip of her chin and the long tresses of ebon hair. The Black Tears twisting about her like broken spiderwebs, forming a restrictive dress, somewhere between smoke and liquid as they curl and reform over and over.

The Queen of Tears.

And beside her? Her right hand, The Flesh Doll. Who looks -exactly- like Kotone, save for the frankenstein stitching that covers nearly every inch of her body. She walks with chin held high, a massive pike held in fist. And why a pike? Because it's more METAL, bitches. "My queen..?" Begins the Flesh Doll, glancing aside. The broken creature's black lips twist into a smirk, but she does not respond to the query. Who knew for what reason Drowned Ophelia wandered, save to heed the call of Sorrow?

THEMESONG: Draconian - 'The Morningstar'
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iP1K0znscaw

Alice Margatroid (807) has posed:
    There's bustling and humming coming from the Western-like cottage out in the Forest of Magic. Dolls wandering around, cleaning up for their Mistress and doing other various chores.. it is the fall season so the trees are starting to get bare with the leaves turning a beautiful shade of orange and falling to the ground. Alice, however, is sitting upon the roof of her cottage, fingers twisting here and there as her 'puppets' do all the work... or was it her doing all the work?

    It didn't matter, the echo of another noise in the forest snaps the Dollmaker out of her 'fall cleaning' daze, a frown coming to her face. "Are the Kappa working in my forest?" she questions to no one, Shanghai and Hourai, the dollmaker's best dolls, look to each other with a shrug... "We don't know..." Hourai mutters, "Let's go check it out!" Shanghai replies.. a nod of acceptance is given to the two and Alice kicks off the house and into the air, following that unnatural noise...

Drowned Ophelia (975) has posed:
Unnatural?! Why, METAL was the culmination of all the elements of the world! At least, the BRUTAL ONES. Still, as the Dollmaker flits through the forest towards the noise, she may find fingers of cold and chilled fog curling over and about the lower branches. Slithering and almost seeming alive as it quests blindly outwards. And at the epicenter stands the Queen of Tears herself, chin lowered, swaying slowly despite the quick fretting of her clawed fingers upon the narrow guitar's neck. The blue glow of the wake candles, flickering in time to the heavy strum, casts curious and sharp shadows across her pale blue skin. The slow trickle of ichor from her hidden eyes, dripping away to patter and sizzle upon the ground. Where it strikes, small blades of grass wither and turn ashy gray.

But most important of all is Flesh Doll herself. Shifting from foot to foot, trying to hide her impatience as she watches for -things- in the forest. There was no fear in the valley of death - for they were the scariest bitches IN the valley - but she had no intentions of having to get sewn together again. And risk being sewn together wrong. "Ophelia, what are we-"
A claw is raised to black lips. "Shhh. Can you hear it..?" A soft, broken giggle as that hand drops once more to the guitar. At last, the broken creature begins to glide forward once more, heading in the Dollmaker's direction..

Alice Margatroid (807) has posed:
    Yep, unnatural compared to the stuff Alice likes. She flits through the forest quickly, weaving around trees as she looks at the strange, unnatural fog thats rolling through the forest. "Mmm. Kappa? Or are those Fairies playing tricks again?" she questions to herself as Hourai and Shanghai fall behind, the three in an arrow like formation in direct path towards the 'intruders' to her sanctum. That strumming gets louder and louder as she approaches, floating right into a clearing in the forest...

    Alice lands and walks into the clearing slowly, her grimoire on her side as she looks around cautiously, "Sunny Milk... Luna Child... Star Sapphire... are you three playing tricks again?" she openly questions to the empty area, that fog running around her feet... she steps forward a few more steps. "Whomever it is, come out now and stop this, you are disturbing my research and my time..." the frown gets bigger and she holds out her hand, Hourai taking point. "Get ready to danmaku..."

Drowned Ophelia (975) has posed:
"Beware the stare of Mary Shaw.."
Comes the voice from the fog, as the guitar hums itself into silence - but the slow trickle of hammers and music presses on, seeming to shudder from the very air itself. Alice had her bullet hell; Ophelia had her DEATH METAL. The singsong voice continues, shifting somewhere to the left.
"She had no children, only her dolls.."
To the right. "If you see her in your dreams.."
In front? ".. Be sure you never, ever scream." A sillouette moves forward, resolving itself into - FLESH DOLL. Her stitches up features blinking down at Alice, before her face screws up into a frown. But she doesn't speak, looking past the Dollmaker as the pitter patter of droplets striking the ground comes from behind. The fog dulling the big sounds - voices and bird calls - while somehow enhancing the snap of twigs or the drip of waters.
"..Or she'll rip your tongue out at the seam." Finishes Drowned Ophelia, the Six Stringed Sorrow held loosely at an angle. Her eyes bright white compared to the dark ichor that stains her cheeks, black lips twisting into a sardonic little smile.
"Hello there~"

Alice Margatroid (807) has posed:
    A rhyme that Alice herself didn't know... the guitar finally subsides and she steps forward once more. She stays silent during this entire exchange, a quick eye look towards her two dolls... Shanghai and Hourai quickly equip... a sword in Shanghai's hand and a Lance and Shield combo for Hourai. Flesh Doll, however, gets Alice's attention more than the Death Mistress of Death Metal.. which to say isn't TOO much. The sounds set her on edge, a shiver.

    "Hello." she replies in kind, eyeing that smile. "You're not one of the three Fairies... so I assume you're here for what reason?" she questions, "If it's passing through... head left until you get to the next clearing, then a right and you'll be out of the forest before nightfall." Alice clutches her Grimoire tightly, something about this unsettled the Dollmaker... "Or was it something you needed from me...?"

Drowned Ophelia (975) has posed:
There's nothing happy in the toothy smile that Ophelia displays; More like a crocodile baring its teeth, to be honest. "No.. I'm not a fairy at all." Clawed fingers come up, curling about half of her own face - only to draw slowly downward. "I heard there was a babe lost in the woods; I've come to eat her all up." A pause, before a broken giggle. "I also heard there was a dollmaker too - the greatest dollmaker of all - and my toy is broken. I sewed her together wrong, you see."
"I'm not broken." Hisses Flesh Doll, glaring at Ophelia. "I'm just.. ****'ing unfinished. If that tin-can bitch wou-" She snaps her lips shut at a raised finger from the Queen of Tears, and a pointed glance. But that cruel, cold little smile never fades as Ophelia glides around Alice and her dolls. The miasma of Black Tears leaving a strange, greasy streak in the air as it follows her path to the other side of Flesh Doll.
Pale blue arms drape around the mockery, claws bumping along the stitching. The soft patter of tears falling from Ophelia's chin, quite in contrast to the brittle little smile.
"Are you the little babe - or are you the dollmaker?" She questions softly.

Alice Margatroid (807) has posed:
    Alice nods, "I see that." she whispers... looking between Ophelia and the Flesh Doll. "Hourai... Shanghai..." The two dolls slowly retreat to the dollmaker's side, keeping their weapons drawn... and ready to spew danmaku at a moments notice. "I'm afraid you may see no 'babe' in the Forest of Magic, for there are no children in here aside from my dolls." and maybe Marisa if you count some things... "However, I am the Dollmaker of Gensokyo. Alice Margatroid."

    She looks towards Flesh Doll she speaks, Alice tilts her head a bit and she stares. "A... A living doll?" she questions, "Made of flesh? And I've been trying to achieve similar with my own dolls..." she looks between the two, watching Ophelia as she encircles her... the 'wolf' encircling the 'lamb' as prey. "Unfinished? What are you missing?" she questions, the Dollmaker seems a bit uncomfortable, untrusting of the situation, but she waits, looking between them... "Perhaps... it's something I can assist with. For a price."

Drowned Ophelia (975) has posed:
The Queen of Tears continues to slowly stroke her claws down Flesh Doll's stitched features; Much to the Kotone Mockery's discomfort. But the thing doesn't speak or argue, even as Ophelia tilts its chin up with the tip of a claw; A small bead of black ichor leaking from the tiny wound.
"I stole her heart; I stole the rest of her too. Stitched and sewn together with my own hair, and bathed her in.. well." The clawed finger curls away, Flesh Doll looking pissed off. But that's nothing new. She spits aside, wiping the ichor that trickles from beneath her chin with a stitched fist. ".. My brain and my spine. That -bitch- still has them, has -my- life, and -my- friends, and -my- .. my -everything-. Every ****'ing thing she stole from me. Ophelia put together what she could find, but." Flesh Doll shrugs, uncomfortable.

"The Dollmaker of Gensokyo? Hmm.." Ophelia's finger touches against her lip thoughtfully, that cruel and cold gaze narrowed in vicious humor. "And you live out here all on your own? It must get lonely.." Eyes flick to the dolls, and black lips curl. ".. Or not." Claws flick and the creature's chin rises as hands lower back to her sides.
"My first offer: Eternity." A soft, mad chuckle. "You want the secrets to her construction? .. Then fix her. And you'll find what you need."

Alice Margatroid (807) has posed:
    Alice watches the interactions between Ophelia and the Flesh Doll, watching the discomfort happen and the black ichor.. She hmms a bit, looking back towards her dolls... but when Ophelia speaks again /and/ the Flesh Doll speaks, she slowly approaches the two. "Let me... examine you." she whispers, doing a 'push away' motion with her hands towards Ophelia to get a better look at the Flesh Doll. "Such construction... living flesh, brought to life... walking, talking."

    "And a mouth upon her, but..." she gives a light shrug, "Missing ... brain and spine? How is she upright and capable of cognitive thought and speech?" she taps her foot, looking at Ophelia some. "I do live out here on my own, in my cottage. There's one other in this forest... Marisa Kirisame." those eyes follow to her dolls then back... and when the offer is made...

    "I'm a youkai, I have a longer lifespan than most humans out there. My mother is a demon, queen of Makai." a pause, "I can try to fix her... and remove those unsightly scars left with that haphazard sewing. You aren't allergic to magic, are you?"

Drowned Ophelia (975) has posed:
"Oh .. I wasn't talking about lifespan.."

Begins the creature, black lips pressed together in a strange, cruel smile. She unravels herself from the shadow of Kotone when Alice approaches, clawed fingers trailing as she slips aside. Flesh Doll, for her part, just looks annoyed. ".. I'm right ****'ing here. I'm the real one. Why the **** do you two keep referring to me in third person? I'm -real-" Fingers curl into fists; The creak of skin and stitching, even as a small trickle of ichor slides down the side of her nose - a mimic of that black weeping that continually falls and stains Ophelia's own pale blue features.

"A demon queen?" States the Queen of Tears, gliding behind Alice. But, in a poised mockery of innocence, her claws are behind her back, arms pinioned behind her waist. See how innocent and harmless she is? Bright eyes narrow slowly, and her head tilts - tresses of black hair falling across half her face. "Maybe you're lonelier than I thought. Where are you friends..?" Eyes slide aside to the dolls, and that smirk grows a bit wider. ".. your real friends. The people who care for you, and visit you? The people who love you and check on you to make sure you're okay..?"
And then a slow shrug of her shoulders. "The flesh remembers; It sweats at the thought of heat, prickles at memories of cold. This was the flesh, abandoned." An upnod to Flesh Doll, who turns her head aside. Before Ophelia's white teeth flash behind black lips. "Allergic to magic? Not that I know of.."

Alice Margatroid (807) has posed:
    "A demon queen." she repeats, watching the Queen of Tears glide behind her... her words peirce like ice... where was Marisa and Reimu? She hasn't heard from Tomoyo in a long time either... or anyone else she considered a friend. "I don't know where they are..." she whispered, "Everyone has... probably been busy." she tries to justify them not coming... "And my cat miko... has... " she chokes... and sighs, looking towards the Flesh Doll. "All my friends... I have most of them at home, my dolls."

    She walks forward, towards the Flesh Doll, and with a direct address... "Who are you, so I can make you whole again. Or try to make you whole again, I've not worked with flesh." a turn towards Ophelia, something set her off edge, a twinge of uncomfortability... but there was a living, breathing doll.. that moved and thought upon its own right in front of her... something she wanted to do for years... "Eternity, huh?"

    "I accept."

Drowned Ophelia (975) has posed:
"It's funny how that happens, isn't it?"

Whispers Ophelia, lifting her chin up as she stares down at the smaller Dollmaker; The smile fading from her lips as she lifts a clawed hand to study it. "Friends only so long as you're needed - useful, wanted, spoken too. And then one day .. well.. you're alone in the woods with your toys. Alone." Eyes flick back down, her face somber and serene. "Friendship's just another word for 'useful'. But don't worry; I'm sure you were very useful to them. And when they need you to be useful again, they'll come around. It's not like you're going anywhere, is it? You'll always be there... -when they need you-."
No smile. No teeth. Rather, the quiet patter of tears that falls from her chin once more, as she lets those words hang.

Flesh Doll, for her part, lowers her head. Glowering at her own fists, as she chews on her lip. ".. My name is Kotone Yamakawa. I was born in New Port, Japan. And my life.. my -spine- .. has been stolen by a tincan cyborg bitch who pretends to be me." She hiccups, the fury disappearing briefly as she presses the palm of her hand to her eye. ".. All my friends, my family. My -life-, goddammit! She has them all. And none of them believe me. I'm right -here-." Teeth clench, and then she relaxes, drawing in a deep breath and staring down at Alice, her features riddled with stitches. ".. Can you do it? Can you fix me? Can you make me whole again?"

Ophelia, meanwhile, has lifted her whole arm - and slides a claw along the inside, from elbow to wrist. Ichor bubbles and splashes downwards, curling and evaporating like smoke before it hits the ground. "Down the lane, not across the street; That's how we slice the meat." She glances to Alice, winking once, before turning her bleeding arm over. The ichor coallesces between her claws, something between liquid and smoke, before it droops downwards. A stem. The bubbling sphere solidifies, glosses, spouts leaves; A black apple. With the words 'Eat Me' carved into the side.
"The power of a broken heart." Murmurs Ophelia, her eyes moving to it. Tilting her head slowly as she cups it with her other hand. "No more fear. No more loneliness. Nothing can hurt, nothing can touch the soft, bruised spots. No more betrayals - no more abandonments. An eternity without fear of death."

Alice Margatroid (807) has posed:
    Alice is looking quite sternly, studying the Flesh Doll. "Kotone Yamakawa..." she blinks a bit, "I know that name." though Ophelia's words peirce like a dagger, maybe it's true... she's only useful as a friend to them when it's convinent... and she can make things quite convinent with her dolls... she stares at 'Kotone' and gives a brief nod. "I've not worked with the flesh, but the knowledge I get working on you will help me. I cannot give you a yes, but I shall at least be able to remove those unsightly scars from you."

    Alice rests a hand upon the Flesh Doll giving a light smile, "YOu shall be whole. I will do what I can for your sake and mine." she turns towards Ophelia, looing at the apple that wasn't there before. "And this... this apple will help?" she questions, the opportunity probably wouldn't present itself again... she looks at Ophelia, "How do I know that you won't do the same... just use me when the time is right?" she snatches that apple and looks at it... then back at the Flesh Doll. "Ah, you'll just need me for keeping Kotone proper, won't you?"

Drowned Ophelia (975) has posed:
Flesh Doll nods a few times, the hurt in her as obvious as the stitches that layer her body together; As Elizabeth stated, paraphrased: 'Evil is just simple pain'. When she stops scowling, when she stops looking so full of -hate-, it's easy to see just how young she is. Barely older than Ophelia herself, when the black hearted bitch isn't being a super moody emo. ".. It's better than nothing, and that's all I've got." She murmurs.

The Queen of Tears, meanwhile, slowly leans forward. The black apple held in both hands, proffered outwards. Bright eyes and a serene smile on her face as she speaks, words hushed and somehow amplified by the fog that rises. "This is power; Power to break your old bindings, whatever was holding you back before. Power to shrug off your weaknesses and float." Her gaze does not flicker, but remains, strong and purposeful. Her chin lowering slightly, even as her voice softens.
".. It will hurt, at first. Change always does. But I am always honest. I am going to use you - for Kotone and for myself - but I am never going to lie to you and say that you are my friend only so that you will help me. I will never leave you here alone, with only the trees and dolls to speak too. I will never abandon you like they have; Come with me, Alice. Follow me down the rabbit hole and see what secrets it holds."

Alice Margatroid (807) has posed:
    Alice knows this hurt quite well, seeing the young looking Kotone in front of her, then back to Ophelia. She takes a few deep breaths, drinking in the current foggyness of the area. She stares at the apple, the words look almost like a command... "Power to break my old bindings.."

    "Very well." Hourai and Shanghai look between each other, "We will always be here for you Alice." this gets a smile from the dollmaker... "Down the rabbit hole." she whispers, bringing the apple up to her lips....

    And she eats the offered power.

Drowned Ophelia (975) has posed:
The bite melts in Alice's mouth, bitter and salty at first - and then, somehow, melding to something sweet and cloying as it passes tongue and slips down throat. And somewhere half way down her throat it halts, lodges. Stuck. The Queen of Tears straightening out, spreading her arms wide even as her smile fades away; Chin dropping, a soft giggle breaking from her black lips, even as black tears leak from her eyes - pitter pattering against the ground. The Death Metal shivering as it grows, expands, the fog rising higher and higher as another is drawn towards Sorrow..

The lump in Alice's throat grows thicker, hotter - keeping all air away from screaming lungs. Ever had a wailing weep? Not simple tears, but that sensation of absolute and total loss. The death of a parent. The messy end of friendship. The sense, the absolute acknowledgement, that nothing can or will ever be the same again. How it curls in the chest like a lead viper, crushes ribs, squeezes the heart, growing hotter and tighter, a hysterical sob that never breaks even as you choke on it; Now imagine that rather than breaking at last, rather than the relief that washes with letting go, that pressure never stops. It grows tighter, it grows hotter, down and down in an endless spiral until something just-
Snaps.
Imagine it. Feel it. Alice, who had done everything in her power to stop the witch and Shrine Maiden - and failed. Failed her adopted mother, her adopted world, her adopted people. And when she joined them? They used her, left her, alone and timid among her dolls and her forest and her monsters. Let it twist the lens of perspective, let the grip of fire take hold, and for someone as timid and withdrawn as Alice - let it break loose. Let the dam wash away beneath misery's squall. For as much as it hurts, as much as it'll hurt forever, at least it's -hers-.
Nothing outside will ever hurt as much as what's inside. She can be untouchable, beyond piss-poor things like 'morality'. What is there to fear when all that frightens has been unleashed? When the worse has come and gone, then what's left to hold her back anymore? There is power in her heart, restrained by 'friends', by childish loves, by rules and nature. Broken, nothing can stop her from simply doing as she wishes. Nothing to keep her from just ... floating away from it all. Lost in Sorrow, stronger and crueller and -empty- of all that could hurt her.

Above, blue skies boil to black, crackling lightning turning what little light there was aside. And the rain falls, cold and wet. But what does that matter either?

Alice Margatroid (807) has posed:
    Bittersweet is the taste of this 'bad apple', taking a swallow of the first bite, trying to savor what she had, but the adamant refusal to go down... the lump of apple growing in her throat, Alice's eyes grow wide as ahe gasps for air, falling to her knees as it suffocates her. She was had, wasn't she... she agreed too a deal from the 'devil' and the bite of the forbidden apple rings true.

    The time during the Mystic Square incident... Then the Lotus Land Story incident... she failed, many times she failed to stop the witch and miko from getting to mom... and just failing the world after she made that last stand.. and most recently the Scarlet Wing Expansion incident, failed so many times to bring her mother what she wanted... not to mention the times she has been left alone... only to be called to briefly help. The pain of the lump in her throat, coupled with that emotionally draining realization has the dollmaker's eyes flood with tears and to slump forward, letting the Sorrow overtake her.

    Who needed friends who only came by when they needed something. Who needed a parent that might not do much for her for her failures. Only her dolls mattered at this point, her dolls, Ophelia and this Kotone. The rain drenches the Dollmaker, Hourai and Shanghai droop and float towards their Mistress... and Alice looks up... at the Queen of Tears...

Drowned Ophelia (975) has posed:
The beat of Alice's heart is matched by the sudden strumming in the air; Somewhere in her fall - somewhere in her sinking - the Six Stringed Sorrow has found its way back to Ophelia's claws. Her face upwards, eyes closed as the rain pours upon her pale blue features. It washes along her eyes, the Black Tears running in a continuous stream along her chin, curling along her neck. Water does not appear to bother the blue wake candles that flicker and dancer along the machine head. And when Alice looks up, her own eyes roll open.

And her chin lowers once more, black lips a thin line. There was nothing joyous in Sorrow - simply the acknowledgement of the inevitable. That nothing, nothing, meant anything anymore - so why not do whatever the **** you wanted? It wouldn't change the end. Her chin lifts at last, and she speaks, her voice proud and bright as lightning crackles in the sky above.

"No Gods. No priests. No Kings. Topple their thrones, and crack their temples."
"I dub thee M'Alice - The Princess of Tears." A sob breaks her words, chin dipping once more. But where her sobs hiccup in her throat, a mad, broken giggle bubbles upwards. Power. Madness. The essence of grief incarnate, black fingers humming in the veins.

"There's so much to be done, M'Alice. So many little lights to put out." Eyes flick open, and refocus. "So many dolls to make. Can you see the end?"