What the hell was that? No, calm. Relax. Breathe. Okay, better? Good. You’ve undergone some…changes. Apparently good ones. Weird, to be sure, but good. Likely from that last soul you took. Your soul. Took back. It’s not wrong to take your things back when they were robbed from you. Sure, someone else was using it and you taking it back snuffed him out of existing, even the ghostly spirit that he was. But he never had permission to take your soul in the first place. Besides, he was a snob clan. The head snob of the snob clan from what you’ve been told of him. No one can blame you for removing that stain from the world. So, some weird stuff is going on. Cool. Learn it, use it, and improve.
Maki needed a break from his own thoughts. It was getting to be too much. Words, images, fragrances, sensations. His mind was on fire. His vision was twisting and pulling, his hearing at once dull but sensitive, his body on fire and ice cold. His sense of self, proprioception and direction, was also being tampered with. Maki began to stumble, then flat out run through the streets of the city. He could hear some gasps or shouts of indignation as he pushes past people, but pays it little mind.
The man stops at an intersection, looking around wildly. Gold eyes look to the right, green eyes to the left, blue eyes back to the right, brown eyes forward. Everywhere he saw the giant in white armor, the man with blue-flecked black hair, then golden skinned shell he’d left behind. Maki hadn’t done anything wrong. He’s simply taken back what was his. But he doubted they would see it that way. For all he knew, they were hunting him down even now. And what the hell was up with that purple dude who jumped in and got wrecked?
Someone grabs his shoulder from behind. The man spins around screaming and shoves them away. Then he sprints once more in a direction, any direction. He had to get away.
Maki needed a break from his own thoughts. It was getting to be too much. Words, images, fragrances, sensations. His mind was on fire. His vision was twisting and pulling, his hearing at once dull but sensitive, his body on fire and ice cold. His sense of self, proprioception and direction, was also being tampered with. Maki began to stumble, then flat out run through the streets of the city. He could hear some gasps or shouts of indignation as he pushes past people, but pays it little mind.
The man stops at an intersection, looking around wildly. Gold eyes look to the right, green eyes to the left, blue eyes back to the right, brown eyes forward. Everywhere he saw the giant in white armor, the man with blue-flecked black hair, then golden skinned shell he’d left behind. Maki hadn’t done anything wrong. He’s simply taken back what was his. But he doubted they would see it that way. For all he knew, they were hunting him down even now. And what the hell was up with that purple dude who jumped in and got wrecked?
Someone grabs his shoulder from behind. The man spins around screaming and shoves them away. Then he sprints once more in a direction, any direction. He had to get away.