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The Doctor's feet twitched lightly, his eyes hurting. Physical pain reached into his skull from his eye sockets from staring into the light. Must be my diet... seems I've been too lax lately... He thought, licking his lips lightly as he let himself lean back in his chair...
His eyes drifted up and along behind his computer. The imagery, the colors began to swirl with one another. They began to reach deeper, slide about before the Doctor's eyes. I've not been resting nearly enough... even using contractions within my own thoughts... He thought to himself, twitching as his mouth curved upwards and then down again. Staring at the blank white walls, he continued to watch the pretty colors begin to move about.
Was it simply his eyes playing tricks, a result of looking at electronic screens for too long every day? Was it from his own work ethic, pushing forwards? Was it because he could not help but continue his research, digging deeper, exploring further, like a man possessed. He was possessed. But that's what I am... He thought to himself, his fingertips reaching within the cloth.
The material slid along his fingers, reminding him of reality as he brought it up and along the skin of his chin. His nose pressed down into the tiny golden flecks within his collar, and he gently allowed for himself to breathe in. As he did so, the colors began to vibrate and fade, his mind relaxing. Along the white walls, dark shadows began to fade in, glistening as he watched. Unbidden, he began to chuckle.
Is it not beautiful...? He wondered, his arms locking behind his back in his chair as he looked at the shadows. He could feel the smooth cloth of his cloak becoming rougher, stricter... tightening along his form, holding him in place. "Ahaha..." He laughed, his body slowly drifting to the side before impacting against the ground with a thud.
"Ahahahaha..." He laughed, watching the shadows drift about and play with one another. "Insanity... is it not beautiful...?" He asked again, his right arm moving to the side. The feeling of the tightness disappeared, replaced by the feeling of cool fabric....
The Doctor's hand reached against the ground, the shadows beginning to drift from his sight as he finally shut his eyes. "Beauty is that which we do not own, which we do not control..." He continued, his knees sliding along the laboratory floor as he pressed his hands against the cool linoleum.
"It is the pursuit of 'beauty'... of this kind... that is what leads to worth, to value..." He continued, breathing a bit hard as he gripped the back of his cowl with one hand, moving it away from his greasy gray hair. Strands slid along his brow, his forehead moving down. "Why can I not lay here, like this...? Is not the difference of sensation... beautiful...?" He asked the still white walls, his right hand moving to his head and moving his hair back as he straightened himself out.
"Yes, that is... that... is... who I am. The Doctor." He told himself, rising up. Moving over to the computer screen, he hit the off switch, glancing at the notes that had appeared before his eyes on his left arm. He had been writing them the entire time that he had been sitting in that chair. "Insanity. To harm what one protects. But if you cannot enjoy... that insanity... then you will truly be mad. You will break, and fall... Will he fall...?" The Doctor wondered aloud, reaching into the folds of his cloak before opening it.
"But to do that, one must have things they protect..."
* * *
A system has been constructed here. The gray haired male thought to himself, walking into the gambling area of the massive hotel. It was a good thing that this was one of the areas of the world that it was legal for him to show his face. What an unfortunate thing that is. He contemplated, noting his peculiar scenario. A large screw was sticking out of the side of his head, though he did not seem to be especially dangerous otherwise. He was wearing a black suit, held together with light stitches. Stitches were also strewn about his body, and for all the world he looked a man insane... from the neck down.
From above it, glasses glinted in the light, a small content smile on his lips. His eyes were calm behind those glasses, and a small cigarette was in his mouth... glowing. Nuts to these things. He thought to himself, chuckling a bit as his fingers removed the electronic thing. It felt weird not to bump off the ashes from the end, but his wife had insisted. She claimed it would help him blend in when he was indoors. I definitely see what she means... He concluded, looking over the other men, some of whom were breathing in cigars, and the others had tools similar to himself.
Despite his eccentric appearance, it was exactly that eccentricity that he was counting on. This was the appearance of Yin and Yang, the appearance that the Doctor would have possessed had he been born an Angel Iramasha instead of the abomination he had become. It was a form that very few were aware of, unless they had been one of those who had attended his wedding. The black suit that he wore underneath it was a testament to his ability to clean himself up for events like this.
The Doctor had been growing restless as of late, so he decided to carry out this investigation himself. It seemed that within this place, humans were mysteriously disappearing, and the information that he had managed to gather outside of it seemed to suggest that work similar to his own was being done here. And that means I should evaluate it myself... perhaps I can have a bit of fun as well. He thought with a smile, letting out another wave of vapor from his lips, its sapphire blue color sliding around the heads of those around him.
Those who watched the entrance of this building had attempted to give him a hard time, but after a good look into his eyes, they could not find any problems with him entering. So it was that he had done so, the scythe charm at his hip jingling lightly as he moved along the tables of the establishment.
For weeks, the establishment had been affected as if it were haunted. Clogged toilets, guests mysteriously vanishing... but yet, some of the actions of this 'poltergeist' did not line up with one another. It made the Doctor smile. If whoever was here was sloppy enough to leave tracks he could find, then the least he could do was clean them up a bit to prevent any... unfortunate interruptions. Or perhaps they intended for him to find them...
Either way, as he stepped into the men's restroom, walking into a stall and sitting down...
Everything went haywire.
Patrons began to experience giggling fits, and any individuals without a spiritual connection would feel their sanity... pricking... away. Light purple pulsations emanated through the air, and while none had yet become violent, people were beginning to twitch. A table was knocked over, and people were trying to figure out what was so funny, and why standing seemed to be such a ridiculous notion.
The Doctor merely closed his hands under his chin, unable to hide the tiniest self satisfied grin. All the other individuals in the bathroom had evacuated, leaving only the gray haired man with a screw in his head, his stall door wide open.
"Doo doo doo..." He whispered under his breath, as he waited for the attention of whoever would be intelligent enough to discover the source of their problem, as the nearer one got to this bathroom, the harder thinking logically became...
Subject Post 2Subject: Re: Sanity is Overrated. Thu May 04, 2017 8:46 pm
"Watch closely, ladies and gents. Nothing up my sleeves, and..."
Yaksha's hand slowly, carefully, slipped across his face. It was a fan favorite by now, a trick he never tired of, if only because they never tired of it. People always attempted to guess which face he was about to create, as he's slip it up inch by inch, allowing everyone present to guess what form he was about to take. He had no clear image in his mind just yet; sometimes he'd know exactly what he was going for, other times he'd just let their jeers and guesses and whims decide for him. This time, he was simply waiting for the right comment.
Inch by inch, his hand slipped up. It started simply, with laughter and excitement and countless jeers as each person would begin making more and more absurd guesses; Yaksha was very certain he even heard someone shout 'The Hamburgler' at one point, which led to a very healthy bout of laughter from everyone present. Finally, the crowning moment, the final reveal, as Yaksha's hand slipped up. And then, the miasma of cloying, incredible, mind-wrenching madness slipped into the room, quiet as pervasive as a poisonous gas. Yaksha's face seemed to lose all cohesion whatsoever, turning into something that laughed at bilateral symmetry itself. It was a painful-looking face, something that was there for only a scant few seconds, but was still far longer than anyone should've been. It was a thing with too many eyes, none of them quite the same shape, and absolutely none of them symmetrical. There was a mouth, but it was jagged and twisted, at a cant that left the stomach roiling, filled with things that weren't teeth, but could be given no other designation due to being in his mouth and, presumably, anchored. His nose was some deformed, multi-holed thing that resembled a tripod moreso than an olfactory organ, and his fingers had grown too thin by far, too long, looking like something that could strangle a man.
In short, it was an absolute nightmare to behold. Everyone present began to shoot to their feet, scrambling away, shrieking and bowling, as they tried to get away from this thing. Their already tenuous sanity shredded, a few of them simply curled up on the floor, and began to blubber. Yaksha sighed ever so slightly, touching a hand to his forehead, and inhaling slowly. With each breath, one could see veins and muscles twitching and pulsing beneath the surfaces, as he attempted to tap into some deep ancestral memory, to bring back a face that would be fitting an ape ascendant. He came so very close, but there was...something about this miasma that just left his brain slipping gears. When he opened his eyes, they were elliptical, his face and snout oddly melded into a single, protruding shape. He had a face that resembled nothing so much as a hairless wolf, with a long, pronged tongue that brought to mind reptiles. He sighed ever so slightly; the long-suffering, patient sigh of one who knew whatever was going on was simply the new state of affairs, and not worth raging over.
And so it took him nearly ten minutes to track down the corresponding source of the miasma. It was...oddly familiar, but not quite the same. It was a clinging, cloying feeling, like having a coat draped around you, one that you didn't quite enjoy, but couldn't find a way to get off. He stepped inside, walking into one of the stalls, inhaling, and then speaking in a tone of crisp, precise, exact tones. Anyone who hadn't heard him speak before could easily be convinced that nothing at all had changed.
"I was told people used public bathrooms in Vegas for illicit transactions. I dismissed it as one of those urban legends. I guess that was my mistake."
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Subject Post 3Subject: Re: Sanity is Overrated. Thu May 04, 2017 11:26 pm
"Now, now… if I was going to pin down your overall failure on a single mistake… it would be letting things get this far…" The voice released from the stall next to where Yaksha had walked into. "Really…That visage you gave off will make moving whatever research you're doing much more difficult, especially if you cannot… control it." The gaseous, wispy voice informed Yaksha, before the stall door slowly unlatched. The suited male stepped out, turning to the stall with the open door.
Gray hair laid out around the top of his head, a small smile on his face. The eyes that he was wearing would indicate his identity faster than anything else, if this man knew of him to begin with. The Rinnegan, black ringed eyes surrounded with purple, seeming to peer into his very soul. "But really, this obliges me to ask… what exactly are you hoping to accomplish?" The Doctor inquired, turning away from the hollow and moving to the sink.
Wrapping his fingers around the faucet, he let the hot water pour into the basin. Moving his hand and feet, he turned on the water for each of the other faucets, the steam filling the bathroom as the mirrors fogged up. "And from there, I'll let you ask three questions of me myself… because I've got two more for you." He informed the hollow, lifting up his hand and idly writing the characters for 'One', 'Two', and 'Three' on the mirrors in Japanese. Letting his hand fall to his side, he turned back around.
"First… what can you do?" He inquired, the Rinnegan fading and returning to his regular eyes. Which were still monstrous compared to a human's. "And second… Are you going somewhere great?" The Doctor concluded, lifting his right hand up to straighten his tie. On his index finger was a ring, without a gemstone. A wedding ring, clearly.
"I have no real interest in harming you. It is even possible you already know who I am. But I have an intent in the people of this world, what they want, what makes them who they are… and that is why I need to make sure that whatever else seeks to break or change the peoples of this realm…. That I can visit them and study their new creations." The snake-like man finished with a smile that didn't show his teeth…
Subject Post 4Subject: Re: Sanity is Overrated. Wed May 17, 2017 4:34 pm
"You can't be serious."
Yaksha's expression was amused, pleased, and filled with infinite patience, though his tone was incredulous, almost frustrated. There was an odd juxtaposition to his entire being now, a sense that he was trying to determine what sort of reaction was the appropriate one. It was as if, even now, he was trying to prune and whittle away at his own mind, to find the right self to present.
He stared at the doctor, not saying anything for a few moments as he walked towards the mirror, smudging out each number, and then raising a brow. Why was it that people always went about their interrogations so...sloppily? Or was this some manner of test; a way to tell whether or not Yaksha was the man he was seeking? He had asked questions that could be so easily ducked, so incredibly sidestepped.
"You aren't hoping for some equivalent exchange, are you? Because you've picked some of the most bland questions I can imagine. And your lack of followthrough is...distressing."
He inhaled slowly, staring at the doctor, meeting his eyes without much expression. He didn't hesitate, didn't pause, didn't flinch, looking at those swirling purple eyes, things that likely would've made lesser men feel like their very being was being stripped. His own eyes, slitted just like a cat's, seemed to burn with a queer inner fire, as he leaned against the sink.
"I am old. I spent a long chunk of my life just remembering what it was like to be alive. I've watched people make the same mistake, over and over. And it feels like it's just about time for me to start showing people the fruits of my labors. Paying it forward, so to speak."
He twirled a hand lazily through the air, staring at it rather than the doctor's face, his voice a bit airier, more laconic now. He looked amused by all of this now, casually dismissive of the entire circumstance. It seemed, in some odd way, that he was picking up steam, growing more comfortable in his own skin as he continued to speak.
"I can speak a few dozen languages, I can create cuisine of such spectacular talent and depth that you would be brought to tears. I can sew seeds in the stoniest of hearts, and lead men to question everything they've ever known. And as for the last...? Straight to the top. I'm building momentum with each passing day, and soon I'll simply be impossible to stop."
He glanced over his shoulder at the mirror, and the smudged handprints he had left behind, then chuckled, ever so slightly, and drummed a hand against his forehead.
"If it's all the same to you, I'll save my questions for a bit. After all, there exists some men who are satisfied with data. But I seek...information."
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Subject Post 5Subject: Re: Sanity is Overrated. Tue Jun 13, 2017 12:40 pm
The Doctor gave the hollow a big grin, a wolfish grin, one bellying and kind of sick, depraved pleasure. "I'm always serious." The Doctor replied, his hands folding in front of his body. The Doctor then gave him a kind of quizzical stare in response to what he said, before the smile rested back on his face again. His eyes looked at Yaksha's, without a single hint of fear, and almost… pity.
"Not a bit, Drytongue." He replied, calling him some form of weird nickname. "Maybe I should ask a fourth question… How are you supposed to manipulate anyone with such a dry tone?" The Doctor asked him, leaning back on the sink. The way that his cloak worked, the marble pressed right into his back. "Pretty ruthless, don't you think…" He continued to inquire, looking at him with those swirling eyes.
"Old? How old?" It was a pretty straightforward follow up question, but the Doctor seemed to have… changed a bit. Perhaps he had gotten bored of dealing with Yaksha, just a bit. That dry tone just made it so difficult for him to interact with him… so he ducked back inside of his own head. Before the creature's eyes, the red cloak that the Doctor wore was slowly replaced, the red color flowing along his exposed skin before dispersing. This left a white lab jacket adorning the Doctor's body, and the one standing in front of Yaksha now shook his head gently.
"A few dozen isn't really enough, is it?" The man asked him, taking off his glasses and beginning to rub them with his lab jacket. Along his body, the snake-like scales he appeared to have changed. Lines appeared along his skin, as if he were covered entirely in stitches. Out of the side of his head, a large screw grew, the male's hand reaching up and lightly touching it. "The Doctor can speak every known language, and one more. But if you really have only reached the point where you can realize what it's like to be alive, it's understandable." The coy individual informed him, before tilting his head lightly to the side.
"And besides, you're not really being very specific with us. Of course, you don't have to be." The man that was before Yaksha now appeared to be a completely different person, taking charge of the situation with an almost charismatic flair. "You know, it really is a shame we're speaking English."
The Doctor's Better Half, as he was called, touched a finger against his chin, before lightly rubbing it. "After all, in Spanish, for example, I would be able to refer to myself as 'we'… and refer to you as a being as 'you guys'." The being before Yaksha was known as Yin, and he was the first personality that had managed to reach the top of the Doctor's consciousness after his years being alive.
"Then I guess go on and ask your questions. You've managed to answer all of our questions with some of the most vague nonsense I can imagine, and believe you me…" He told the creature, leaning forwards and looking at him past his glasses. "We've got a pretty active imagination."
Subject Post 6Subject: Re: Sanity is Overrated. Thu Jun 15, 2017 1:39 pm
Yaksha tilted his own head to the side, running fingers through his hair slowly, cautiously. There was something inherently soothing about tactile sensation, he found. Each of those hairs was like a tiny anchor, giving him a reminder of what he was supposed to be working towards, and thinking about. He paused, focusing on one spot in particular that felt a bit...knotted, almost tangled. He grunted, just a bit, seeming fixated more on his body than the man in front of him, as he tangled and primped and preened for a good five or six seconds, and then finally let his hands drop to his side.
"I am always and only ever what the situation calls for. Dry, moist, whimsical, meticulous. My methods bring results, in the fullness of time. Don't waste my time with insults and insinuations. You're better than me, and we both know it. That isn't at all relevant."
He narrowed his eyes, hand sliding over his cheeks, and his chin, as he let out a faint, almost angered growl that almost felt reflexive. Spanish. Was that meant to be a reference to his race? To the secret he'd spent a -very- long time trying to keep under wraps? Was this man honestly saying he'd been able to see through his disguise that easily? That he knew what lay just beneath the surface? He wanted to lash and spit, to scream and bite, and all at once he could feel something deep inside of him snapping, threatening to come unhinged entirely. There was something, or someone, pushing him towards a very unpleasant breaking point, towards the edge of a cliff, and he had no intention of falling over without preparation.
"You asked bad questions. I said as much. If you'd like to start over, and pick your questions one at a time, I'll allow it. I'd encourage it, in fact. Rapid fire questions like that do no good for anyone. What's needed is...conversation. Communication. After all, we learned all these languages for a reason, didn't we? So we could better understand one another. So please, oh royal 'We'. Let's start over from scratch. It won't help in the slightest, I don't think. But there's never any shame in giving a handicap, now is there?"
His lips creaked open wider and wider, his hands lacing together before his chest. But one could see tiny twitches along his body, over and over; a shoulder that couldn't quite hold back a shrug, a shiver that was stopped a split second too late, an ever so slight jerking of his head. It was clear that, despite all the supposed calm, there was the whip-like tension of a coiled spring, ready to lash out at the right moment.
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Subject Post 7Subject: Re: Sanity is Overrated. Sun Jun 18, 2017 11:00 pm
"Doo, doo doo doo…" Yin leaned against the marble, waiting for the being before him to reanchor himself. He was humming and lightly singing to himself while he waited, not willing to wait contently for this man's response. "See, but that's not how it works, friend." Yin shook his head, walking over to Yaksha and draping an arm over his side in an extremely friendly manner. Yin was very outgoing like that.
"Strength doesn't matter to a man like the Doctor, or to me, for that matter. What matters is whether that brain of yours can see past the present situation, or even imagine the present situation's relevancies in other contexts. If you are able to do that, then you are worth the time and energy put into this little vacation." Yin informed him, his tone a bit… cold. He was being perfectly friendly, but the words he was speaking were not extremely flattering.
Honestly, Yin had no idea about any of Yaksha's secrets. He brought up the whole idea of Spanish simply as a reference for something he thought was missing from their language. It had not been his intention to trigger Yaksha in any way, and he then proceeded to let the other being go. "And it's your position to decide that? Sounds like someone's a bit egotistical." Yin commented, moving back and forth from one foot to the other, thinking about what the man said.
"I suppose that could work. After all, unlike the Doctor, I don't mind spending my time on someone who could only possibly be worth the time it's taking to have this conversation." Yin told Yaksha, before glancing around. "But hey, could we talk somewhere more comfortable than this? As much as I dig your décor, I can only stare at bathroom doors while standing up for so long." The request was a bit coy, but it was honest. Yin honestly did not care if Yaksha lost control of himself or not. He believed that either way, the Doctor would get what he wanted out of the creature. Unless the creature was going to stubbornly refuse the Doctor's inquiries. If that was the case… then at least things would get a bit fun for the man leaning against the sink.
Subject Post 8Subject: Re: Sanity is Overrated. Thu Jun 22, 2017 11:14 pm
Yaksha's own lip twitched upwards, his eyes rolling at the comment; oddly enough, Yin's lewd joke seemed to strike him at a level he hadn't expected to be hit. He knew all too well this man was simply messing with him, that this was another tactic to get him to open up, and yet...he had to appreciate the finesse of it. Sometimes the light touch was the most effective. Oddly touching for its absolutely unexpected nature. He tilted his head to the side, and began to adjust his tie.
"Are you a gambling man, by chance? You wouldn't be the first one I've proposed to wager information against. Unfortunately, the last one was...somewhat lackluster. It hardly even felt like a challenge, leading her around by the neck. And I guarantee you, -she- knew how to have quite a bit of fun standing up."
He cleared his throat, eyelids batting slowly, in an almost coy manner. One could almost be led to believe the man before him was trying to flirt, or act enticing; it was, of course, massively offset by the teeth that looked sharp enough to slice through a bone and reach the marrow beneath without ever stopping, and the forked tongue. Or perhaps not. After all, it takes all types to make the world work.
Did it, really, though? Now that Yaksha thought about it, that phrase was...so very strange. It was something he'd never bothered to consider up to now. Perhaps he'd given it a passing thought, but never quite in those words. Was variety -really- the spice of life? Or was it best to find those like yourself, and stick close to them? He began to drum fingers against his hip, suddenly silent, absolutely pensive, as he spoke in a slow, ruminative voice.
"My first question, if you don't mind. Organic, or mechanical?"
His mouth widened, ever so slowly, a hideously smug rictus of delight, eyes glittering with delight as he canted his head to the side just a bit, fingers slowly reaching up to smooth through his hair once more, as he spoke in a slightly calmer, stronger tone. For a moment or two, he'd given away -far- more than he'd intended.
"I should hope the teachings of the Holy Trinity haven't died off in a mere few centuries. If you need a crash course...well, then let us walk and talk."