( OPEN ) you believed in all your lies, didn't you

[godcards]

WHO: Malik Ishtar and Others (You!)
WHERE: Around, mostly in Freshens
WHEN: Mid to late April
WHAT: Malik is suffering the effects of the dreaded Magatus Mark
WARNINGS: Malik’s dubious mental health, teen angst, mentions of self injury in first prompt.


Magatus was disorienting in its newness. The blacking out that came after was more familiar to Malik than should be considered normal, but when he awoke and discovered that he hadn’t gone on another attempted murder spree and that things were relatively okay, he had ventured forth with a kinda-familiar person to see about getting rid of the new glowy mark on his skin.

He didn’t find the answer.

So he had left, huffing and pouting as he does, only to find that in the following days in returning to the city, the mark had started to spread. And sting. Like it wanted to remind him that it existed, and about the faint voices from the forest, whispering to him. He handled that the way he handled most other things: by ignoring it and hoping it went away. Like most other things, it didn’t go away, and it got worse.

ONE.
The mark had started on his forearm and had spread down towards his wrist. The glow was obnoxious, but not quite as bad as the sting. Malik had taken to picking at it, scrubbing it, and rubbed the skin red and raw. Still, the mark persisted. Even after wrapping it in bandaging (mostly to keep from ruining himself further), it still glowed.

He felt like people stared at him. Like they knew. Doesn’t matter where he was going or what he was doing, he couldn’t shake the feeling of silent persecution. It was really only a matter of time until he snapped at an unfortunate passerby:

“Stop looking at me!”


TWO.
Things continued to get worse. Malik found himself feeling ill and groggy. As completely wrong, delusional, and irrational he could be, he didn’t actually attribute this directly to the mark. More than he was getting sick in conjunction with being cursed. Being kicked while he was down, because that was definitely par for the course as far as he was concerned.

A simple illness requires a simple fix. Except with how tired and disconnected Malik felt, something as simple as getting cold medicine from the pharmacy inside of Freshens seemed a lot more arduous than it should be.

In fact, he doesn’t even know if he’s in the right aisle. Or the right store. Or the right plane of existence, as he stares blearily at children’s gummy vitamins.

Some of the store patrons plainly ignore him. Some get a bit unnerved. Because he just continues to stand there, unresponsive.


THREE.
The nightmare wasn’t over yet; in fact, you could say it was just beginning. A long, long series of nightmares. Everything Malik has been trying to push away, trying to ignore, hoping that it’ll solve itself and disappear on its own following him all hours of the day, beyond wakefulness and into his dreams. Everytime he drifted off, he had a nightmare. His cold was getting worse. The mark had spread further still. He was at rock bottom again, emotionally, despite making feeble attempts to put himself on the right path. However, he’s too exhausted, mentally and emotionally, to scream and tantrum about how unfair that is. He’s tired, he looks tired, as he zombie shuffles through Freshens, again, to get… something? Maybe? Out of his room, at least, so he doesn’t fall asleep again.

“Stupid… trees, stupid curse, stupid cold, stupid everything.” He repeats, several times as he goes up and down the grocery aisles. “They always want to make it my fault… I didn’t curse myself, it’s their fault.”

He picks a package of cheap, offbrand cookies from a nearby shelf and starts to tamper with the packaging. He’s unaware of anyone watching or scrutinizing his behavior. He keeps going, eating cookies as he does so: “Anytime I do anything, something goes wrong, that’s not my fault.”

In a stunning twist, he seems to recognize that people - at least one person - is watching him. This does not stop his cookie thievery, and instead he glowers, “The hell do you want?”


FOUR.
( choose your own adventure, or I’ll write something for you.)

Comments

[godcards]

[ He stares at Minato. In part due to being feverish and unfocused, but also because what. ]

I'm not sleeping that long. I might as well be dead at that rate.

[compendiem]

It's not that long...

[ Says somebody who's been "asleep" for two weeks, but that was also unconscious in a hospital and maybe that doesn't count. ]

You'll wake up at the end of it. Happy and healthy and stuff.

[godcards]

I really doubt that. [ He huffs. The mark on his arm starts stinging again, and he winces. ]
I’m not putting myself in a coma, I’m not… doing anything… I don’t know what to do, except not sleep that long, because I’m skeptical it’ll even work.

[ He’s starting to lose his train of thought. ]

I’ve never slept that long before and a nap isn’t going to make me happy… If sleep is supposed to cure me I’d be better by now, but I’ve just been getting worse, just like always, everything always gets worse.

[compendiem]

[ Not everything gets worse before it gets better, and something like an illness often gets worse and worse, especially the longer it goes on. Minato isn't a doctor by any means, but if it's sickness, he knows first hand how much it sucks and interferes with life. ]

If you want a more definitive answer, you should go to a doctor. If you want just a temporary bandaid, I could probably do something. Are you done shopping around?

[godcards]

[ If only it was a normal sickness and not a supernatural one; not that Malik knows that, but it sure would make him less weird and difficult about it, maybe.

He shakes his head in response, and it almost looks like he starts shaking like a leaf too, although it's minute. ] I don't like doctors. I don't like... hospitals or anything like that. I just want to get medicine.

[ He's trying to sort things through his frazzled brain. Minato just said he could help, didn't he? Can he be trusted? ]

Anything to make me feel better would help though, I suppose...

[compendiem]

[ Sucks that you have to go to a hospital in order to get a prescription- that's the only way to get medication that actually works. Desperate measures tilts things towards Minato's favor, though, and he taps at something under his shirt, strapped onto his belt. ]

I think it's worth a try. Let's find a bathroom or somewhere private.

[godcards]

[ The motion goes unnoticed, as Malik is much more hung up on what Minato says. ]

I don't like where this is going already.

[compendiem]

Or a deserted alleyway, or a private home. Bathroom's closer.

[godcards]

It doesn't sound any less suspicious when you put it like that.

[ But I'm sure there's a bathroom in Freshens, so like, there you go. ]

[compendiem]

Mm... [ "I have a gun" is probably even more suspicious, and extremely alarming in context of wanting to find someplace out of the way and private, so Minato bites that back for now. ]

I honestly think it'll help. Promise I'll explain more fully in the bathroom. It's just something I don't want people to see.

[godcards]

[ Honestly if Minato wanted to offer death that would be like, not nearly as alarming as it sounds. Still, context is important here, and Malik is missing it. ]

I... don't know if I like the sound of this plan. You can't tell me here?

[compendiem]

[ Malik so willingly accepting death is a concern Minato does not want to know, thanks. He will dodge this question by admitting to a half-truth. ]

It involves summoning a giant bird and I don't want to mess up all the product displays around here. There's no room here.

[godcards]

[ Look. He is deeply cursed and suffering from it, just let him have this. ]

A giant bird...? It's not a big yellow one, is it?

[ This seems to get him to perk up a little. ]

Wait-- if there's no room in here, then how would the bathroom be big enough?

[compendiem]

Big, bright, yellow one. His name is Horus. And bathrooms don't have things that can fall and break and require me to pay for the damages.

[ It's honestly... yeah. The stupid "you break it you buy it" rule, and medication can get expensive so long as they're hanging around a pharmacy and not the bathroom that Minato edges encouragingly towards. ]

[godcards]

[ Malik is kinda awkwardly trudging along with him, but the mention of Horus seems to breath some semblance of life into him-- he still looks like shit, but now he's a more spirited pile of shit. ]

Horus? Like the god? Does he look anything like-- [ He's checking his hoodie and pants pockets, give him a minute. ]

This?

[ He holds up a card, which he was nerdy enough to buy a protective sleeve for. ]

[compendiem]

[ Minato blinks, unsure, for a moment, what he's looking at. There's the reluctance to immediately dash all of Malik's hopes and dreams to the ground, so he stalls, stringing him along with a contemplative hum as he continues trailing towards the bathroom. ]

Like the god, but... It's like staring directly into the sun, really hard to get a close look at him. He might be like that, under all the light?

[godcards]

[ The non-answer doesn't exactly help, but it doesn't really upset Malik as much as it would normally, either. ]

Well, I have Ra, so I don't expect Horus to be above him... but I just thought, if you had one too, that maybe...

[ Maybe, what? Minato has no idea about Malik's bone to pick with Retrospec, given all the "teehee Egyptian" things they've sent him over the course of a year. ]

Nevermind, forget I said anything.

[compendiem]

[ It's hard to forget about all of that when every other word piques Minato's interest and raises more questions. Malik has a card, but so does Souji and that's what the latter uses to summon. Is Ra another Persona? A more powerful one than Horus, who is admittedly one of Minato's stronger ones?

Maybe Malik would be more willing to talk about it after he sees Minato's Horus with his own eyes, so Minato shrugs his acceptance of the terms and pushes the door of the bathroom open, stooping down to check for feet underneath each stall like it's the most casual thing in the world. ]

Coast is clear. Anyways... Um... [ How to do this. ] The way I summon is kind of scary and messed up, so if you want to close your eyes or turn around...

[godcards]

[ Malik is back to staring blearily, his temporary burst of energy fizzled out and gone. ]

Can't be any worse than the things I've already seen.

[ So, no. He won't turn around. ]

[compendiem]

[ If he says so. Minato silently lifts the hem of his shirt to reveal the gun there, and takes it out of the holster. ]

I'm going to shoot myself in the head, okay?

[godcards]

What.

[ Give that a moment to sink in. ]

Wh-- No! I'll go to jail!

[compendiem]

No you won't. I'm the one pulling the trigger, so even if somebody walks in, it'll be fine.

[ It's fine, Malik, all the fingerprints will be Minato's and there is no way to implicate you. ]

[godcards]

The police hate me! [ He throws his arms up. There's still some bandages on his left, under his sleeve, from earlier in the month when he scratched himself up. ]

You're going to kill yourself and I'm going to get the blame for it, like I always do when it comes to-- messy situations like this!

[ He's torn between full blown anger and distress. This is A Lot. ]

[compendiem]

[ It's a lot, but it's actually going much better than the other dozens of times Minato's tried explaining the summoning process, altering his words slightly each time with little success in getting people to believe in him. This can still be salvageable.

Instead of engaging Malik in trying to assure him that he isn't trying to kill himself, he tries to show him: Minato points the gun at the ground and pulls the trigger. There's a click, but no gunshot. He pulls the trigger again- nothing. The same happens a third time, for good measure. ]

...It's not a real gun. There are no bullets to kill me.

[godcards]

[ That puts a stop in the wheel, so to speak. Now Malik is wound up with nowhere to go, like a freight train trying to stop; there's still momentum driving him forward, despite his best efforts. ]

Then why they hell are you saying you're going to shoot yourself for!