I'm guessing no one liked that one much. Oh well. This is a pilot for a full-on crossover fic of Persona 3/ Air Gear. If people like this one, I'll start the story. If not, I'll leave it be. Hope you enjoy. I don't own Persona 3 or Air Gear.
Warnings: Cursing and violence
Title: Dark- Poisoned
Rating: T
Characters: Kaito, Akito, Orpheus, mention of Agito
Genre: General
Summary: The night is dark and full of terrors, until it turns green. Then it's terrifying and full of satire.
Fragmented
7. Dark- Poisoned
There was something ironic about the fact that he had just slashed through a boneless blob of goo. Well there was irony and amusement but he wasn't actively pursuing a goal of perfect description so who gave a damn? His trusty weapon spun in his fingertips, smooth and elegant. He looked up at the sky. Greener than grass, clouds blacker than those of the storm, and a moon pale yellow from some demonic sense of humor glaring down like they were God. Well, not like he could correct the sky. The last person who tried had died. He glanced sideways, carelessly taking in the coffins that littered the streets like trash. Whoever came up with this place decided to make Stephen King kid-friendly. As he took a step, the male glimpsed sticky red fluid on his sneaker. He scowled and swore.
"Just got these things too. Already got a fucking battle scar." He tugged on his sweater, hating the sweltering heat and scent of summer stained corpses that filled the air. But it was only for an hour, thankfully. It was almost quiet again, barring the low sounds of a cigarette being lit. As if it didn't smell bad enough. With no one walking around besides them, it could almost make him remember the reasons he was protecting humanity in the first place. Almost.
"Oi, -." He didn't turn, refusing to answer to his normal name. Not even he could make him do that here. The man repeated the call before sighing in either irritation or boredom. Or resisting the urge to maim his little toy, who knew? His mood swings were almost like PMS with a poker face. You learn to stop guessing after a while.
"Orpheus. Turn around you dumb shit." He did, resting the bladed staff against his shoulder.
"What?" he asked lazily, ice-blue eyes glittering with nothing less than contempt. The man walked up to him and coolly fired a bullet at the boy's head. Orpheus winced at the feeling of rubber against flesh before sighing. "You know you're not supposed to beat your subordinates." Another bullet. "You are one commander who I'm sure everyone loves."
"Don't "what" me, you insolent little fuck." To anyone else, that would have been the equivalent of screaming your lungs out, but Kaito didn't waste emotion on "shitty little whelps like him" as he put it. "Why aren't you gone? You're wasting time."
Orpheus snorted. How you can waste time that isn't supposed to be in the first place is beyond me. "As if you can tell. They will still be here long after the world wakes. But if you insist." He walked away, avoiding another puddle. Kaito snorted and watched him go.
In the alley, the child spun into action, the gems on the ends of his staff glowing red. "Agilao!" Everything was slipping away from his fingers, his control. He was falling, falling….
Yes, down deep into the battle, spinning and slashing as fire scorched the wind he fought alongside, turning the black red as their hands lunged to greet him, as the speared twins wrapped their spells of darkness and consciousness was fading to too many blurs and a want, a need for power, and…
"Persona!" Calling out himself, his own name, his own soul, and defying by nature the death he brought to others. "Maragi!" The song was playing, deep and strong, burning the words of his predecessors into his head. Blades jutted out of the gems and there was black blood, black blood everywhere, and all he could think about was how good it felt. As his body, heart, and soul reconnected, he glimpsed the backwards world he was walking through.
When corrupted by night, everything is different.
That's for damn sure. Here split personalities were normal, water was blood, electricity was a crapshoot, and people got by sleeping like a vampire. Oh, and he beat up goo with varying forms of annoying.
Damn Mayas.
He slashed again, allowing the gems to fade clear again, the mask disappearing into shards. As he did, he felt the world fade into normalcy, blue night, white moon (or crimson, depending on the level of asskickery in the area), normal puddles, and the sound of lightbulbs flickering and people wandering the streets, drunk or stupid. Or both.
Time flies when you're on a killing spree.
In his head, he heard his more hostile, wild side yawn. We done? I'm bored. He answered in the negative. They still lingered. Kaito didn't care anyway. The raid had long since been over. As he pulled up the hood of his orange sweatshirt, Akito sighed. He didn't want to go back just yet anyway. Orpheus was easier than Akito; he had no morals and little emotion. He cloaked his face in shadow and took off at a run, retracting the blades. His eyes glowed underneath the hood.
In the Dark Hour, everything changes.
He gave a quiet snicker. The irony of this was not lost on him now either.