Perfect Insanity is back. Act 1 of Chapter 15.
Enjoy.
Chapter 15: Perfect Insanity, The Deceived and Chaos Creation
Act 1: A new though faint hope
"Let's go then." he comments neutral to his new mistress still standing next to him. That's how he sees her now. Ever since his eyes laid themselves on that note, she has become nothing more than a bitch on a leech. A thorn in his eye.
"Are you coming?" he adds slightly impatient while containing his temper.
She doesn't react to Dagon, simply taking a few steps forward and one to her right a few seconds after her dead silence. She puts her paws in her sides and overlooks over the slough; as if the slough couldn't be less important.
The enormous fire burns across the far horizon, making it look like the top of a sun as it rises. Her white face turns into a shining reflection with her blue eyes sparkling bright. Her whole front is covered in a divine sort of sunshine. Her back however is covered in black, as is Dagon standing in her shadow.
Annoyed at first, that she didn't even raised a finger when he asked for it, he subjects himself to the fact that he'll have to live with the crumbs she leaves for him. It simply sucks that she's his Gatekeeper now. Yet, it's nice that he's on Krystal's side. Closer to her than he'll ever get is better than not close at all.
A feeling that's pure gold in Krystal's revengeful paws. Everything he had her go through... she can now return the feeling. She's the one pulling the strings now and she´s not planning to let them go anytime soon.
Dagon turns his head away from Krystal and looks to the spot where Délarbé last stood, to see where he has gone. There is nothing but emptiness ahead. Dagon begins to get genuinely worried about Délarbé abnormal reaction and pain. He looked like someone who had a very fierce stomach ache when he left. Something that he's hasn't seen from Délarbé, even though they have known each other longer than any mortal person has ever lived.
The power consuming him from the inside... It must be horrendous. The inability to kill what he so dearly desires to be dead. I couldn't live with it.
His face turns to a smug looking Krystal, who has turned around. Then again... I know where it's coming from.
"Hey Le Penseur." calls Krystal out on a deceivingly sweet tone managing to mock Délarbé's preference for French words. "You wanted to go, didn't you?"
She graciously extends her right arm and gestures to a position Dagon has to stand. "After you then." she winks as a glimmering reflects in her eyes. She really enjoys this. "You wouldn't want to disappoint your master now, would you?"
Submissive but with a stormy temper expressed from his facials, he stomps over towards Krystal. Her impudent remark could mean that he's nothing more than Délarbé's pumpjack or that he would disappoint her. Either way, he hates it.
He grabs her left arm and pulls her towards him. Their noses nearly touch each other when Dagon grabs Krystal's chin and lifts it up in the air. His eyebrow sink closer to his eyes full of anger.
"Go to Hell..." he growls bottling up all the rage.
Krystal, a little startled at Dagon´s action at first, realizes that this is as far as Dagon can go. Her slightly shocked expression turns to a manipulatively lustful one. She decides to use her ability to control Dagon's strings and does that very successfully.
"Poor, poor Dagon. There is no beating me when I´m finding my Foxy." she says so close to his face that she almost kisses his nose. It´s a nasty tease, only allowing the rage to build within Dagon.
To prevent the rage from escaping and literally tearing Krystal to bite-sized chunks to consume, he pushes her arm and chin away.
"Watch your words Krystal. Délarbé would never backstab me." he states trustful to which Krystal answers with a gesture that he's nothing more than a crazy person. Dagon simply ignores it and slides down into the valley.
"He already did dearest." she dismisses merciless with a broad grin as she follows directly after him.
The soil beneath her boots is very gravel-like and easy to make a way through. It's a spectacle for her, an adrenaline rush only matched by the metal music-induced car ride back on Papetoon. The feeling of the wind blowing through her braided hair is simply fantastic.
Dagon is already down. Dusting himself off in a dark conduct, suggests that he had no fun in it. His expression says enough. He walks on ahead towards the thirteen pillars in search for Krystal's imprisoned and possibly not 'very glad to see her' boyfriend Fox. If he could kill himself to be free from this shame, he would. For the first time, being practically immortal feels like a curse.
Please tell why I must be the one to drag the spoiled, stubborn prom queen to the ball? Don't let this be in vain Dé. Don't let this be for nothing... he thinks with a clenched fist held up close to his face as doubt has stricken him.
What if Krystal is indeed right? Délarbé is pretty well known for backstabbing. It's one of his many signatures, aside from his whistled tune and uninterrupted good mood. He managed to talk Fox into turning against Krystal as if it was a piece of cake.
Meanwhile, Krystal has come down as well. She dusts herself off as well before getting her hair back in the way they were before. She sees from the corner of her eye that Dagon has already moved on ahead. Figurative thunder clouds surround his head as he stumbles on at a snail's pace.
"Hey grumpy." she calls out to him. Something that isn't well received by Dagon who stops in his tracks, nearly cracking his now ever clenching fist.
In the darkness of a casted shadow from a pillar next to him, only the bright white reflection of his vicious fangs are shown. The sides of his lips pull up and he utters a short, angered growl. He feels it coming up everywhere; the unstoppable urge to just slot this bitch!
Instead, he can restrain himself for the umpteenth time. He lowers the sides of his lips as the white fangs are hidden behind his lips. From Krystal's standpoint, there is no real reaction. He keeps on walking, towards one of the pillars. The meters high pillar towering up into the sky, the only one of its kind around here.
"You never told me why Délarbé used French that much." brings Krystal up as she casual walks around, not really knowing what else to do with her time here. "Seeing how agitated you were when I mentioned Le Penseur, it got me pretty interested."
Dagon places his right paw on a pillar that is a little closer by than the towering one and closes his eyes.
"You really intend to know why?" he verifies calm and darkened.
"Hmhm." she nods.
Dagon lifts his paw of the pillar and checks his palm. No sigil has appeared on it. He closes his paw and utters a barely audible grunt.
"This pillar isn't the place you're looking for." he concludes very sure of his case. He just wanders ahead for a few seconds until he stops. "As for your quest to know every little detail, I'll tell you."
"Pffff. About time." puffs Krystal, searching for something to lean against.
"His preference to use French comes from... partially because of me. But mainly from a medieval murderer."
"A medieval murderer? Yeah, and I'm Queen Elizabeth." she waves off a little bitchy.
With an attitude just screaming "Go f#ck yourself then", Dagon walks towards another pillar.
"Have it your way." he emphasizes vengeful on her feeling of guilt.
She sighs deep, knowing he has her now. A small, one-sided smile cracks on her face. He kinda reminds her of how Fox would react if he was in the same situation.
"Okay then Dagon. I'll stop. Promise." she promises as if she wants Dagon to agree to a pinky-promise.
Dagon stops in his tracks again. It's a poor man's version of an excuse anyone heard a hundred times before. But seeing how he'll never get anything better out of her, he takes it for granted.
"That pillar." points Dagon to his left. "Stand there and try to sense a symbol. Then, I'll continue my explanation."
He walks away from her as she focuses on the pillar he specified. She wanders towards it, often looking around.
She never took a good look at what the slough had to offer. It's at least not the prettiest of sights, though she somehow feels she has seen worse. The entire place is littered with bones, all sorts of rubbish/remains and a lot of that coal like soil. The slough itself is massive, reaching out several miles ahead. It's completely barren, with only this part is were any kind of construction has taken place.
In between her observing, she nearly bumps into the pillar. "Ooh! Didn't see that one." she excuses herself while shaming herself for being unobservant.
"You there yet?" calls Dagon who barely moved a meter.
"I' am. Now what?"
"Try to manifest your... Ack! Darn!" he groans in pain, pulling his face away and bags through his knees.
He directly covers the smoldering symbols around his right eye, that aren't there. He has none! His runic markings never did this. Because symbols and markings work different. Symbols can be controlled one by one whereas markings are given and kept.
Ignoring Krystal's calling, he lifts his paw from that side of his face. A small puddle of blood is in the palm of his hands. Unlike his blood however, it's pure red. A little dark but not littered with dark spots.
What is this nonsense? I never had any... ACK!
Again, the same feeling of something smoldering burning, this time against his right cheek. It's on the exact same spots as where Délarbé has his instable symbols. But the smoldering comes in some kind of code. The code is made up out of the frequency of the burning feeling and the intensity.
Dagon suddenly recovers from the pain as if nothing ever happened. His morale and trust in Délarbé seem to have increased. He turns towards Krystal, almost renewed.
"Nevermind. It was nothing more than a cheap laugh for me in case you actually did it." admits Dagon snickering shadowy with a slightly hung down head. He can already imagine it, playing it over and over again in his head.
With that pretty nerving snicker, he walks away from Krystal, leaving her somewhat cold and unsatisfied. This was not the Dagon she had control over. To prove that, she goes in against what Dagon told her not to. She places her paw on the pillar.
Now... manifest my what? My focus?
Krystal gives it a try as she feels all of her energy flow that one paw. Suddenly, a sharp feeling enters through her fingertips, seeping into her veins and nerves. She has connection with a presence within the pillar. Energy and spirits that are welled up within. One of these spirits seems very familiar feeling.
That energy... the bravery and loyalty. Playful yet serious. Childish, smug but nevertheless a great leader. Her eyes open wide. Fox!
She closes her eyes again and focuses all on finding contact with Fox. She so convinced of the fact that Fox is in that pillar. That Dagon and Délarbé have deceived her to think that Fox is locked up somewhere else.
Her stubbornness doesn't pay off; it backfires at her. Another sharp pain enters through her fingertips, flowing down through all her veins and nerves again. But they flow further into her. She can feel her paws getting tingly as her skin becomes red in between very little hair of her contrasting blue fur. Her veins start to swell while her skin thins out, becoming nothing more than an even thinner version of papyrus.
She tries to let go of the pillar, but all she does makes her cling to it even more. As if she was glued, no, welded to it. Her arm becomes warmer and warmer. Only a few minor seconds later, it feels like it's boiling.
Her teeth are clenched, locked into place. She doesn't want to scream. This is probably something of a test or just an act some sick figure around here would like to see her in this quarrel. To see her struggle. To see her whimper. To see her plead and beg until she's finally falls onto her knees to surrender her soul she held so close to her.
Yes. I know you are watching, freak. she says to herself, though more addressed to you-know-who.
Her free arm grabs her right wrist and begins to pull with might and main. She is so focused on getting her arm out, to get rid of the blistering pain that is flowing through her arm; she has no idea what happens around her. Behind her, a shadow dooms up.
She can feel its presence coming closer. At a tedious and nerve-wracking pace. The pressure becomes almost too much to handle for her. Conflicted, she begins to pull even harder. She doesn't care if something of her skin or even a finger has to rip off as all as she can get out of this position.
"Need some help?" is whispered in her ear with the coldest, most insane sounding voice. She shrieks and turns around to see Dagon with his arms up in the air and a surprised look on his face.
"Did I say something wrong love?" he asks with an awful grin returning to his face. "All I wanted was to help. However... I feel I'm too late for those inside that pillar."
With that said, snickering, he saunters away from her.
Creepy freak. No wait... I already used that insult.
She looks at her paws. They are free from the pillars latching grip. Her arm looks normal too. There is no blistering pain flowing through every vein, no boiling feeling throughout her nerves. Furthermore, her veins aren't swollen and her skin is just as before; a tad pale and strong again.
She was too quick into thinking that she had won. She might have been able to subdue Dagon as much as possible and made Délarbé flinch, flee and even end the tour he was so psyched about, but this remains his Hell. His domain. Danger lurks around every corner and everything isn't as it seems.
Don't be too impulsive Krystal. You're gonna get yourself killed. Remember that Fox is imprisoned somewhere, that Le Penseur would never lay a finger on him and that he wants me back. Yeah, that should do it. Nothing is more important than Fox.
Rubbing her paws together, clinging on to that positive thought, she follows Dagon who has picked up the pace.
"Suddenly running a marathon?" comments Krystal very sarcastically after a small sprint that took way more energy than she had imagined it would take.
"I'd like to refer it as... brisk walking. Of course, you wouldn't know about that unless you stamped it in your head." mocks Dagon only turning his head so far that his eye can give a demeaning look.
Krystal squints her eyes together a little and nurses a grievance. He's referring to her stubbornness that was well mocked all over Lylat after her break-up with Fox and her staying with Panther, she knows that very well. And she can't hear another word about it.
Her arms, hanging casually beside her body, tighten as her paws turn into clenched fists when she says what's on her heart.
"Who do you pretend to be?" she interrogates more than asking, adding a hissing tone at the end.
"Someone who knows his place." answers Dagon absent and unimpressed as he has more important business to attend to.
The message that Délarbé gave him is still surging through his brain. The words said are tingling him throughout every soul he's build up from and consumed over the years. He feels something tickle on his right cheek and in his neck...
He approaches the biggest of all the pillars with Krystal following. The fire on the horizon, that was already barely visible from this deep slough, is now completely obscured by the size of the pillar. The shadow it casts over Dagon feels warm and closer to a homecoming feeling.
For Krystal however, it's a bucket full of ice water thrown at her. With bucket and all. Without her realizing at this point, that this cold is the exact same cold she felt inside of her when the tour started. The urge to fold her arms and feel around the empty spot where her ring once was is suddenly close again...
"I-is this where Fox is imprisoned?" asks Krystal a little shaky. The breath that leaves her lips is visible for her and Dagon who turns around.
"Are you okay Krystal? You look quite cold." he says quasi-compassionate, just on the edge of being cynical. He places his paw on a specific spot on the pillar.
"Y-y-y... you pr-pr... oooh god..." she shivers as she turns around. The cold seems to fill her entire body up, leaving not one spec of heat left. Everything starts to become insensible as freezing temperatures surge within her. Her lips become bluer by every passing second. She has no goosebumps; that natural reflex doesn't work anymore.
"What have you done to me!?" she screams at the top of her voice, that is soon clogged by the upcoming frost that has managed to take hold in her body.
Dagon just stands there, one paw on the pillar and the other just next to his body. With a neutral, slowly turning to a slightly amused expression on his face, he observes as Krystal cringes into a ball, plumping down on the ground. What is happening to Krystal seems to getting only worse by the second.
Her breathing begins to stagnate at this and her sniveling begins to die out. It's turning into a sad sight, even for Dagon's eyes it seems. After he has taken a deep sigh, he decides to collect her. With a pulled up lip, unknown if he's determined to get her out or to
She suddenly feels something again; Dagon's shadow falling over her. It's somehow warmer than anything else around her. As if Dagon was that much of a warming personality to begin with. She doesn't dare to turn around, afraid of what that monstrosity might do to her.
That he has become a monstrosity again. Again, a threat to her. Like nothing but everything was already against her. The only thing that she had control over just slipped through her fingers. It feels like a reminder to a painful statement she herself brought up.
Nothing more than a stupid mistake.
Her whole life tended to follow that statement. It was her who thought she could be Princess Krystal of Cerinia forever. That the kingdom wouldn't fall, under any circumstance. That her parents wouldn't die at her times of need. That Fox wouldn't abandon her when times got very rocky with Star Fox. Panther who would be true and loyal to her when all else has failed.
A tear runs down her cheek. In a short period of time she lost almost all she once cared about. All she gained back, no matter how tough the challenge or how emotionally painful the struggle, it all went away or died only a while after. And now that she's getting one of them back, what guarantees that the same wouldn't happen?
Do I deserve redemption? Do I deserve Fox and yet another change?
She doesn't even care that her body warms up again. All she can think about is her inability to shake off the blues.
Dagon meanwhile has come a lot closer to Krystal than he was before. Only one subtle step is all that it takes to touch her back. He's not thinking with his arse; he knows what's bothering Krystal. He also knows that Krystal isn't gonna turn around if he stays like this.
He brings his left arm closer to his face. He whispers some enchantment into one of the runic symbols. A mere second later, a long brown robe falls down from the sky into his expecting paws.
Death's robe. Good thing I managed to snatch this along when Délarbé forced me to bow before him.
Now wearing the dead man's robe, there is only one thing he needs to do. He grabs his throat in between thumb and index finger. With a swift shift to his left, he hears a slight crack. He haggles a few times to get his new voice coming out nice. He gives it a few tries pronouncing a few letters whispering before turning to the blue vixen.
"Krystal." he says with Panther's voice.
The moment she hears that familiar voice, even if it was Panther's, reignites her completely. Just the fact that something so familiar is suddenly so close and ready to once more accept her is all she needed.
She lifts her head up and quickly turns around. Wide-eyed, she sees that Dagon is wearing Death's robe without the hood over his head. With his legs slightly spread and one foot a little more back than the other, he imitates the way Phantom is always standing.
Krystal doesn't really know what to think. Her confusion is only getting worse when Dagon's opens up the right jacket flap for Krystal to seek shelter in. Again, just like Phantom did for her.
"W-what am I supposed to think?" she whimpers desperate. "What do you want me to do?"
"Think what you want. Do what you want. I'm just offering a choice." replies Dagon very serious still in Panther's voice. "You have a lot of questions. I have the answers. You are searching for your true love. I know where he is. The choice is up to you."
Krystal looks behind her, the direction she was looking at before. The way ahead, if she chooses to turn her back on Dagon's offer, might lead her an uncertain but at least free existence from the two demons that have tormented her all the way through.
On the other hand, one of those demons is forbidden to actually do anything significant to her as he wishes. That demon has also offered her a safe place à la Phantom, the only person that seemed to be on her side of things. Not only that, but also where to find Fox.
Though something in the back of her head says that the whole idea of Dagon leading her to Fox is dangerously farfetched, she turns her back on the way back. With a straight face, somewhat hinting with concern and doubt at various points, she walks into Dagon's opened robe flap. He embraces Krystal in the robe and walks with her towards the pillar.
He can feel her shudder still as his right arm lies on her shoulder. She grabs the edge of the flap and pulls it closer to her, wrapping herself tighter into the robe. She takes a quick peek to her left, to Dagon's chest. He's close; a lot closer than she ever intended. The incident at the gates a while back is still fresh in her mind.
She feels his side and fur against hers. It tickles a bit, feeling warm and surprisingly cozy. One of the runic symbols touches her shoulder. It feels hardened like a scamp, but it also radiates warmth through its unique faint glow. Also, the view of one's abs isn't misplaced for sore eyes.
Unlike with Délarbé, she doesn't seem to be disgusted nor bothered by the fact that Dagon is actually as naked. Krystal never really gave it a good look and god bless she never had to.
"Hey Dagon." she suddenly brings up after a long period of silence. "Why did you suddenly help me? I thought you enjoyed watching me dig my own grave due to depression."
Dagon laughs up his sleeve, obscuring it from her as much as possible. "I have to admit that it was eye candy to begin with. But as time pressed on, I realized that we were not getting any closer. Besides... if you were to..."
Dagon tries to find the right words, making a circulating movement with his free paw.
"...if I were to bury myself?" finishes Krystal for him.
"Then I wouldn't be able to keep my promise to Délarbé; nothing from my part must overcome you. He cares about the safety and purity of your soul."
Krystal sniffs with a grunt-ish edge. "I don't really know about that 'purity' part of my soul. I'm not Miss pitch-perfect."
"You make a lot of mistakes. At times you face the consequence. At others you act stubborn, clinging on to the depraved fact of you being right. Everyone makes mistakes. Heck, that's the very reason why you are here."
Krystal stops, forcing Dagon to stop as well. With a raised eyebrow, Dagon wonders why she stopped.
"Are you saying you made a mistake... one that brought me here?" she asks with a split feeling of being agitated and a curious cat.
They pick up the pace again.
"I was the one who caused Délarbé to exist. If it wasn't for the Gatekeeper's distrust in me, Délarbé would have never been created."
Krystal remembers what Death told her when she entered this place for the first time. That the Gatekeeper had him punished and pushed to the edge. One he obviously fell over.
"Why did the Gatekeeper distrust you?" she asks trying to get the puzzle pieces together.
"He saw me getting stronger with every passing minute. A blessing for him… but a burden later on." He clenches his fist, bringing it a little closer to his face. "I became too powerful in his eyes and… he tried to destroy me."
Krystal can hear disappointment coming from Dagon. He never meant to pose a threat for the Gatekeeper. It must have felt like a backstab when The Gatekeeper tried to remove him by force.
"It was a lost cause for the both of us. But I knew that I would lose much more and I fled to the mortal world. Your world. There, I was forced to see how life had changed ever since."
"You mean you've been in Hell for a period of time already?"
Dagon nods and smiles a bit. "Around 400 years actually." he says with a proud sense.
"So... you were taken too?"
Dagon doesn't really want to empty his heart over this subject. It's still something that stings his mind more often than not.
"I was taken yes. I was mortally wounded after a family feud turned into violence. My own brother was the one who killed me, after I killed him." he explains very simplified.
"And how did Fox come into play in all of this?"
Fox is really a big thing in her head right now. After the cold went and the warmth came, nothing but Fox has come up in her mind. As if Délarbé never really existed.
"After I left, the Gatekeeper managed to imprison a child by the name of Loic. The child is who later became Délarbé. How Fox came into play, was more coincidental than on purpose. Délarbé was searching for an identity. As a lost soul he roamed everywhere, taking hosts and leaving empty shells behind. But when he indirectly met Fox, he kept tabs on his every move. Until finally, he opened up on Titania."
"And what exactly are you to him then? If he was searching for an identity, why not look at his predecessor?"
Dagon groans in himself. He didn't tell her that Loic's perverted uncle Gilles was actually Délarbé's predecessor. He haggles after a hard swallow, covering it up with a cough.
"Délarbé found me stuck on the streets. When he mentioned the Gatekeeper and revenge in the same sentence, I agreed to become the caretaker of his Hell. Back then, an identity wasn't really on his mind. He was mostly gripped by the Gatekeeper."
Krystal now has the whole picture. Why Dagon is helping her, how Fox came into play and even a flattened history of how Délarbé came to be. It gives her an unmatched certainty and the feeling of security around her. She wraps herself even further into the robe, her cheek touching the rather fluffy body of the robe.
Maybe it's because of the voice. Maybe because of the robe. Or it might even be his Phantom-like behavior and way of speaking.
She doesn't really know how to put it. She doesn't have time for that either. The pillar they were approaching is suddenly very close. It's sudden being startles her as she was completely immersed in being cuddled by the robe.
"Here we are Krystal." says Dagon as he lifts up his head, looking at the top of the pillar. "This is where Fox is locked up."
Krystal's eyes begin to radiate hope and for the first time, start to sparkle as well. With those eyes and a very emotionally thanking smile she looks at Dagon.
"Thanks for being so supportive Dagon. Even if it feels somewhat hopeless and desperate of me, I feel like you've at least given me the feeling that I matter." she says on a very relieved tone after a lengthy exhale. "What exactly drove you to this... I don't know. But I don't care either."
As if Dagon is looking into a mirror. To a memory, seen from his eyes, belong those lines. The words might have been switched up a little but the premise is the same. It was Délarbé plucked him off the street.
Struggling with himself in a dark alley, waiting for the cheap and homebrew booze to finally take effect. That's where Délarbé found him. He kneeled before him and began to talk to him. One moment they are just chatting, the other they have become what looks like inseparable friends.
Délarbé helps Dagon off the ground while Dagon says the same words Krystal said: "What exactly drove you to this... I don't know. But I don't care either."
"Hey Dagon!" shouts Krystal already standing in the opening of the pillar. It opened without Dagon noticing it. "Are you coming or do I need to start calling you Penseur as well?" she jokes.
Dagon laughs with a turned cheek as he approaches a much more cheered up Krystal. "Come on. Let's get your Fox out of here so that I can be freed from you."
Act 2 coming up.
Soon.