Prologue: Mural (Theatre Pilot)

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Me and the boys on jaqqy's discord server
Wanted to read a Reaction fic on Rhodes Island's psychologist Fanfiction
But there's non so we make it ourselves
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The persepective now ascends and we'll change the view, a varied kind of sight with a wonderous hue.

The gathering present are the friends he made many, the answers you seek are the ones we give plenty.

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"Are you finished?", the figure sighed under its ornate robes.

"Give me a second dear, I'm almost done.", came from an eccentric woman in her mid 40's.

"I didn't build you up from scratch now."

"And we appreciate the effort you've done but I think we both agree that he is not your amusement.", she kept her tone but her words were a sneer. The figure chuckled.

"Now I'm plain out insulted, I don't just see him amusing for his woes. I cheer, I glee, and giggle when he's in his element.", the robed figure sighed longingly. "If only he'd give himself a chance."

"Well when hearing what you've done to my little reader I would thank you but my disdain is present.", as she pointed her finger at the figure, poise ready to strike.

"No words from our future host?.", the figure turned to the partner of the fiery writer.

"So you want them to know, see every tiny bit of my little listener.", the man didn't ask. It was a statement.

"They have the choice to act or ignore. We can only provide."

"Dear fix the venue, I'll be mural-making once again. I still can't believe the mishaps he had to go through. Pains me to know I can't scoop him off his feet and cradle him like I used to." the woman reminisced.

"Well now that you two are settled, let's bring in our guests slowly but surely. The last one might probably be agitated and awake sadly, workaholic that one."

The woman slowly put a finger to her lips, "Where to start, where to start. Ah, I have it." Inspiration and a sense of sorrow in her eyes.

Both knew what she would be making.

In a few moments, she finished one of three murals. 9 strays lay at the feet of their owners, the man on the left with his head held high and crowds and soldiers salute. The woman on the right made documents, paintings, books, and even some music sheets. The pair both held the hands of a small boy in nothing but a hospital gown with a small stature, a small smile, and a timer strapped to his heart.

She pressed on even under the flooding of tears in her eyes. She started on the second mural. A dragon pulling forth a sword with eyes above, watching its every move. A cloud concealing a veil to the heavens. With a princess clenching the dragon's hand dearly.

Onto the final act.

She started on the last mural, a blizzard struck forest. Leaves wilted and absent. Underneath the barren barks were three figures. A robed figure with one of its eyes staring at the pair and another staring at the soon-to-arrive audience. The pair in question, they looked the exact same. The only difference, one was laid flat being cradled by the other with a pair of scissors in his right hand. The passed had a smile on his face content with a sacrifice he made. The other had the hope die in his eyes, hope in himself, a black chain tied to the motionless body that represented guilt, as if it was his rightful sin to bear.

This was only one half of the last mural. On the right has the same blizzard-ridden forest but with a man carrying a woman with an orange band flowing harshly against the outburst of frost. Not noticing the marks of an infected and not caring whatsoever. A life was something worth saving but when the black chain of guilt holds against one's neck, are they doing good for the sake of it or are they doing good to atone?

Her works would bring these murals into memories, his memories. His burdens made into art. How cruel of a parent she is.

Her work done she looks onto the sleeping guests her loving partner brought with one noteworthy participant, a woman with Lynx like ears looked at her as if she was someone that looked familiar. On the ball as always.

----

Kal'tsit didn't understand what she was seeing at the moment. The pair she saw, they were complete opposites in terms of personalities. Yet they seemed to share one thing in common. That small smile. She gazed back at the murals and when she gazed at them, she saw flashes of memories and thoughts that doesn't belong to her. Emotions and ideas that were foreign and an ache in her heart that felt all too familiar to her arrival in that dreaded black void.

Ye

She realized in horror in what she's seen, felt, and thought. She saw everything laid bare. She felt the joys, the sorrows, the frustration, and the hopelessness. She felt her thoughts ripple with each piece of the murals she observed. The horror in her eyes when she felt each emotion. These were Ye's and her suspicions were confirmed.

He would let himself be a tool, a pawn, a Martyr.

"Dear, I think you should wake your fellow cohorts.", the middle-aged woman suggested.

She called out Mon3tr to do it for her even when it sneered in response, it would follow her orders.

She stared long and hard on the last mural and the pair seemingly hiding it away, vanishing it completely from her eyes and what remained was a full screen. Not so different to a movie screening. The hollow words rang in her thoughts.

"Am I okay?" she whispered. Yet, the question didn't belong to her.

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Nightingale thought it was strange.

Very, very strange.

What was strange, you might ask? Well, nothing other than the fact that she was woken up by a strange creature.

"...You look like a dragon."

The creature didn't seem to have an adverse reaction to her comment. She watched as it sped off into another area in this... room?

Looking around, she quickly realized that this was not where she had slept last night.

Though she did find three other familiar figures. Seemingly sat on chairs, with their breathing at an even pace and their forms completely relaxed.

She rushed over toward them, giving off a sigh of relief when she found that they were unharmed.

She didn't know where she was, but one thing was for sure.

She had to wake them up.

-x-

"Uhg... just five more minutes."

Ifrit felt something poke at her repeatedly. It wasn't anything harmful, but it was annoying.

"Close the drapes, will you? It's still early." Ifrit turned over and put her arms to cover her eyes.

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Prologue chapter done.
See you all soon on the next chapter

Goodbye

Goodbye

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