Oratio Fatimae (The most well known Fatima Prayer)
Domine Iesu, dimitte nobis debita nostra, salva nos ab igne inferiori, perduc in caelum omnes animas, praesertim eas, quae misericordiae tuae maxime indigent.
Oh my Lord, forgive us our sins, save us from the fires of hell. Lead all souls to heaven, especially those in most need of Thy mercy.
Bolded Bubaigawara's other alter when he switches just to make life easier for everyone involved! The name Fatima is highly close to Fatum, or fate and it turned out the evocation's meaning fit the bill.
Chants decorated with saintly colorations of stained glass splatter a charlatan who is presumably alone in his blank cavern, tousled snow-white hair being besmirched by tainted hands, the staircase of sewn stitches on his forehead making way for another impostor in the midst. Wrongly assuming there was silence to be enjoyed was a sin in of itself, a bitter taste of languish dribbling off of the damned black steps in disconcerting globs, no Hail Mary to be sought in a feverish prayer of instinct. The Wheel of Fortune chortles in gluttonous spins ticking a pure white arrow of fate further in dizzying motions, blinding lucent lights flashing much how voracious hired escorts would slip through your hands as if they were see-through, just close enough to touch and reap the benefits but by then the gyrating circle has ceased to swivel on its tempting axis.
Soon enough the man in the mirror would reflect his true self and not deny nor wallow, shards multiplying in the distance collecting colossal glass fractals paving the way for a beacon of light, there was no need for Mary when there was Fatima.
It was as if a chime resonated within the oddball of a man that was stuck into a mind-numbing muttering spree, an apparent shiver ran down his spine and suddenly his semi-slouched back straightened with the ring, wordlessly fondling his baggy pockets for something that he struggled to reel in. Curses spat from Jin's throat, causing his Adam's apple to bob into a shark-infested barrel and swing itself back up, unadulterated fear seeping into his bones. His stony-blue eyes sank into the sea along with his dashed hopes, staring at the two of you blankly before abruptly erupting into a cacophony of noise.
"WHERE'S MY MASK? I KNOW WHERE IT IS!" he panicked and hurriedly searched the premises on the surface level, Dabi's own blue eyes darting from place to place in a trance, all the while you realized a faint burning sensation was swaddling your entire body in a red-hot mantle.
Surprisingly cool breaths rose out of the black-haired man's throat, a single lit flame acting as if it were a pert bud sitting atop of his index finger, the accomplice to the invigorating nicotine scent being a scuffed cigarette nabbed from his fall. "Chill, weirdo. I'm sure you left it on the roof," he expertly drawled as if the boys in blue hadn't been chasing them in the first place, unconcerned puffs flowing out of his leisurely drags.
"Gee, sure am regretting taking in a dude who's a necrophiliac's best wet dream," is accompanied by wayward thuds of countless items making peace with the floor and cabinets being thrust open in tandem. "Actually, more like a living blue waffle shitting all over the place, unlikely you'll piss nowhere around here anyways," house slippers pointedly turning to the human sexually transmitted disease who had merely met his hardened gaze and blown another kiss of smoke into his eyes.
Scarlet swept through the contours aching and pleading for some sort of respite, essentially rolling down your lower bicep until it was able to nosedive into shoddily cleaned carpet, drops plopping around each other and spreading in a sort of a macabre paint splatter.
You couldn't utter a word when whatever was sustaining the barrier between agony and complacence quivered into retirement to let it loose, as an orchestrated rallentando let its conductor chug with a wave of his arms and let the racket be off the rails, strums of nerves being filed down into blunt pains causing your teeth to chatter ever-so-slightly.
Your voice box was far too preoccupied coping with the amount of throbbing fire searing any words that had been stored in your frozen cords, knees threatening to buckle but whatever remained of your headstrong spirit had made its mind and made its last stand.
Pettily squabbling in the distraction of his own impending fear, incomprehensible lines were thrown at the violet-patched male fruitlessly in the looming shadow of anxiety taking root in his mind, neither paying much mind to the other person in the room until they raspily spoke, "Hey, maybe that closet'll have it..." A gust of exhalation afterwards, "Sure have lots of pins n' needles on the carpet," is nonsensically giggled with your subtly shaking form focusing on unusual glints concealed by an ajar door.
The contradictory man's head bobbled momentarily before he cartoonily locked onto the said door and rapidly swung it open, revealing that any hints of dread that used to cling onto him were washed away, a sewn mask with a split at the junction of the nose having anything below his eyebrows black and the other halve being a cool gray.
"Hey and what would ya'know!? I got my baby back! You lost it here, bub," twinkles appeared in the white holes for his mask like a million dollar smile was grooving behind it, his body twisting to meet your pale-faced form sweating missiles from your resting place oozing blood. "span style="font-style: oblique;"Ohhhh, shit. That's just fantastic!"
You couldn't gather much energy to do much else but keep your finger crackling into place as thunder would, quaking to and fro from its shaky position and wearily clamp your teeth in a horrifyingly saccharine open mouth smile, lines of tiny veins supplying your intensely bit lower lip with pooling red of lifeblood like a crude fountain.
It finally garnered the elder Todoroki's scatterbrained attention span thanks to the ever-piling effects of narcotics and stimulants, a Mevius One 100's cancer stick free-falling from the disquieting facial expression gluing him in place, limbs booting up from a complete shutdown to rush over by jumping above the couch through sheer muscle memory.
Light-peach fingers deftly gripped the white stitching connecting short sleeves on your shoulders, catching your out-of-character whimsical expression with dilated pupils and hardening his countenance. "This," gesturing his hand towards the wide array of burgundy blooming further into a dashing spider lily, "Is going to hurt like hell," was mumbled before he ripped the already ruined gag t-shirt and striking shrieks from your bustling innards. A hissing noise slipped from the gaps of the patchwork man's teeth, clicking his tongue, "Houston, we have a problem."
"Didn't expect to have someone die on my carpet ticked off the good ol' bucket list... totally knew about it! Man, they grow up fast these days!"
"Loving the commentary over here, genius, but could you actually help them instead of throwing more one-liners?" pearlescent cyan eyes rolling themselves in a show of mock composure, as his tick of biting his lower lip gave him away.
Instantaneously, Bubaigawara whipped out yellow-ochre measuring tape aged by slight wear and tear, moving about in a flurry of movements that made Dabi's spiked tufts swish in tune to the air. "Just a little bit of this, no more of that," copping a feel in what would otherwise be known as inappropriate dick move, hadn't he moved quickly and efficient after uttering a sorry, not sorry, completing whatever he had sought to do in the heat of the moment.
"Voila!" wisps of smoke began to arise out of nowhere along with sludge quickly rearranging itself into the exact features you had, plus a bullet wound that had seemingly halted in its ferocious endeavor to bleed your veins dry. "This fucking sucks!"
Without looking up from his shabby handiwork of attempting to tighten a bulky blanket, the goth slammed his now bloodied hands onto his ratty slacks in frustration. "Damn it, this won't do." As soon as he even saw the slightest motion grinding itself near the injury in your shoulder, he grit his teeth in a roundabout way and made his scorching presence known towards the other man, "And just what the hell do you think you're doin'?"
Zooming as fast as his legs could take him, he zanily waved his hands and mimed a bullet in a laughable attempt to get his point across, "Adoy, taking the bullet out, genius." Angling his fingers in a childish display of zig-zag lines, in a show of demonstrating the trajectory of the gun's fatal and cruel mistress, "It doesn't take Einstein to know that if we don't get it out, they're gonna live!"
An obviously irritated grunt later and the dual personality owning individual's body was held sky-high, an annoyed sneer held in place along with plum indentations and silver staples were the exhilarating vista that the unwilling passenger was greeted with, nimble yet surprisingly robust hand clutching the hem of Jin's shirt. "Are you dense? Life ain't what Hollywood makes it all to be little man, and if you take that bullet out they're as good as dead, capiche?"
Understanding dusting its motherly powder onto the other man's face, a rather silent agreement is made when the echo chamber is out of his mind's reach, no other double making its way to launch another quip, even if just for a moment.
The exact replica of you had rewound itself back into its gelatinous coagulation of goop on the sobbing carpet fibers, sudden depression soaring away from the formerly sky-borne man causing him to lift his spirits and make a mad dash towards the abnormal glint that had caught his eye, finding vital tubes coming from a deflated sac and more from where that came from in a white and red box that had a cherry plus sign printed on it.
"You're lucky your lover pointed out the goods! Not that lucky if you ask me," he announced jauntily, dropping the minimalistic case at the other man's feet, making himself comfortable in a criss-cross applesauce position and casting an expectant look at him.
"You know I can hear everything you're saying, right?"