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@h0ptimists / cont!

Mephiles watches her silently over his shoulder, a scornful look in his eyes as she tries to find some sort of answer. In actuality, there is none—Mephiles knows himself to be right, knows the jurisdiction in taking back what was taken from you. Mortals would be at loss, perhaps motivated to venture on even half the conquest that he does. So why does he ask her? He has to wonder if the answer changes, from a perspective of someone whose world hasn’t sullied. Of course, the trauma is fresh, and she hasn’t thought that far ahead yet, has she?

No, she’s still grieving what she could have lost. And all the while, he is past it.

“ I am not to be told what I can and cannot take, not after what was ripped from me, “ he snarls, facing away from her as fists tense by his sides. “ If you cannot answer that you would be complicit with full confidence, then what do your convictions matter? “

“ What does anything matter, if they’re gone? “

[shadowsceptered]

Oh, how he savours fear—there is nothing quite like a mortal realizing they are out of their depths, yet still caving to that innate sense of denial for the sake of their ill-gotten pride. Mephiles watches their reactions silently, not saying a word as he lets his own set in the air. Like most, the hedgehog chooses fight… even though it’s futile, but he has the respect that Mephiles lets him live longer out of amusement.

“ And you’re familiar, are you? “ he asks with glee, clearly taking enjoyment out of this interaction. He paces to Scourge’s side, tilting his head to peer closer at them. Sonic had thwarted gods… he had to wonder, how much had this one done? Does his own reflection sit at the other side? Or maybe it hasn’t happened yet… what fun! “ You give away your cards like that, you know. Insecurity festers from somewhere, and you are so full of it, aren’t you? “

There’s a cold laugh at the rebuttal, the demon’s eyes gleaming, maliciously.

“ I am more than a reflection. A reflection is left behind, a reflection follows. I transcend restriction, I transcend time and reality—death. My ‘nerve’ is a birthright. And I have to wonder, just what is yours? “

He's never ready for when someone else turns out to be on at least equal footing, is he? Scourge's quills practically shoot up straight as the sensation of pure cold soaks through the fabric of their gloves so quickly, it's like skin-to-skin contact. Their mind is split between practically threatening their body not to start shaking

They can feel nausea forming in their stomach like a heavy pit, breathing getting heavier and the pace of his heartbeat quickening as pure physiological responses to the words take over, treating the taunts with the same instinctive fight or flight as a knife held against his throat.

"He ain't jack shit." The tyrant hisses back as they jerk their hand away from this thing's grasp. Key word thing: this isn't a hedgehog, and while the usurper's head is practically a blunt object, he's not so dull that he can't tell when something isn't alive, or even natural.

"And you gotta lot of nerve talkin' about reflections there, faker."

[shadowsceptered]

Mephiles doesn’t react to the hedgehog’s words, unmoving as Shadow comes to terms with the evidence and observations laid out before him. Truthfully, it’s a double-edged blade—the day that Shadow remembers the wrong thing, is the day that Mephiles’ plans come tumbling, and he’s very much aware of that. For now, though, he’ll play devil’s advocate… in the same beat, lean on the side that favours the ultimate lifeform. When the demon’s eyes peer back at the hedgehog, they do not divert. They do not glance at the distant whirring and shenanigans of the Doctor’s machinery, laser-focused on his companion.

He would say he isn’t surprise by the hedgehog’s outburst, but when has he ever been surprised by Shadow’s destructive potential? Reptilian eyes widen as the hedgehog’s fist turns a segment in the wall to debris. It’s not so much the action, but more of its abrupt nature, that catches Mephiles off guard. And, quite obviously, what it might mean for him. For the moment, it’s best Shadow know nothing… at least until Mephiles has all handles on the situation and victory is imminent. He has to hope that nothing comes of this, that it’s just an emotional outburst that has no cause but for him to manipulate it.

Seconds pass and Shadow has disappeared up the corridor in a blur of red and black, Mephiles watching for a few seconds in contemplation. There’s a fleeting thought, a wonder of how this could have happened in the first place… trickery of the humans, no doubt? Well, it’s in his favour now.

Mephiles seeps into the ground, his liquid form briskly giving pursuit.

“ Focus on right now, not the why, “ his voice echoes. “ The rest will come. Eventually. “

The way Mephiles words it Shadow knows something is wrong and that it's bizarre that he can't remember such a salient moment in his life. The Ultimate isn't even surprised anymore, it turns into immediate disgust with himself. Frustration. Such an important thing, and I forgot. He breathes in and tastes recycled air and gunpowder. But that's it. Again, the memory leaves a second time. Shadow shakes his head and resettles on the topic of the bat. Rouge. "How dare she pretend to--help me." To be friendly with me.

He only makes it a little farther walking down the shrouded hallway before he stops in his tracks again to stare at his palm. Suddenly Shadow realizes that he's frightened of himself and his past and what any of it means; that it swims in darkness, like a fish skirting underneath the surface. A frightening looming thing he can't name. And yet his hand doesn't tremble. "I don't understand." A zap of Chaos runs against his fingers like trying to pull the memory out of redacted files and the haze of his amnesia. "I don't know why I can't remember anything!" Suddenly he slams his fist into the nearby wall, a shockwave of green racing through the brittle brick and dislodging a few pieces from the crumbling wall--and then he takes off, skating furiously, a red and black arc behind him, with only the Chaos Emerald in mind and without consideration for leaving Mephiles behind, delirious with energy and too angry to stand around waiting anymore, too quiet in personality to scream with anger. Mephiles will catch up anyway.

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@herogardn / cont!

Mephiles doesn’t know why he throws caution to the wind as he does something that’s almost instinctive, like an impulsive thought he can’t toss away. Nor does he know how to react when he feels the other’s claws take hold of his face, returning an enthusiastic affection not even the demon can process. Did he know what inciting this action would accomplish? Not really. In spite of his intelligence, he hadn’t really thought that far.

But… it’s not a incitement that he regrets, eyes closing as he feels himself slump into his accomplice. It’s strange. It stops him thinking for a moment, and it doesn’t necessarily feel like it’s a bad thing.

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@serialreporter / cont!

If there is one thing that Mephiles is good at, it’s picking up on the mannerisms on his fellow twisted—or virtuous, they all emote the same. The impending silence fascinates him just as it does surprise him, and the careless glance snatches itself back to see the masked murderer not looking very impressed with him. Or at least, not impressed enough to offer insightful commentary! To each their own, hm? Interesting… the trials did more than change the survivors. Muchso their killers, too.

“ You disagree? “ he asks, quirking an eye ridge. If he could smirk, and wryly, he would! But his face soon hardens, solidifies into a shadowed expression. “ The man beckons tragedy just as death beckons him. I had foolish survivors, pierced and purged—and found him amidst it all, unable to do anything but writhe in the palm of my hand. He is pathetic. “

He steps closer, head tilted so his eyes peer up at the shadow of the killer’s mask.

“ And you know differently? “

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@herogardn / cont!

“ Because you so dearly crave that attention, “ he replies coyly, quirking an eye ridge in response to the other’s questioning. Reptilian eyes watch the other’s movements warily, his hands soon clasped behind his back in sombre thought. A half-lidded gaze glances skyward, then back at Fleetway. “ You carry chaos and destruction wherever you go. You are nothing like the norm, for you break every fabric of it. “

He doesn’t flinch, moreso seems passive as the hedgehog circles him.

“ Something that those that come to know you become very… aware of. “

[shadowsceptered]

Cloth? Mephiles resists the urge to repeat, knowing it would move his pawn in the game—a game he is not taking part in, because this is HIS territory. There will be no negotiations, no nonsense! Perhaps if he weren’t so flustered, he’d consider the interesting trivia that someone share his same capability, but for now: no consideration is to be taken! This stranger is breaching his domain, and as he gives a forceful shove, he glowers in response.

“ There will be no settling, “ he huffs in response, a very rare moment where he is losing his patience. “ For someone who is preaching peace, you are provoking its end. Now be gone! “

❝ Oh come on. ❞ Drones out the monkey demon in an echo. If it weren't for the fact he was just a whisp of shadow right now, you could easily see that he was rolling his eyes. He can feel the other entity's presence all but shoving him out of the cozy pocket of shade he'd most definitely found first, to which Macaque resists against. It was purely coincidence there happened to be another shadow demon that would happen to have the same exact idea as him.

Macaque pokes his head out, clearly nonchalant.

❝ Violence never solved anything! ❞ Hypocrite. ❝ Can't we settle this like civilized demons? How about this; rock, scissors, cloth. Best of three on shoot? ❞

[shadowsceptered]

There’s a heavy and violent silence from the demon at the observation, any amusement he could have garnered from the situation evaporating into thin air. Admitting that fool had been capable of doing anything to his being is more than a slight on his honor, it’s a crime and a disappointment—and Mephiles can do neither. His contempt for the scenario becomes more than apparent now, melted body folding its arms in disgruntlement. To achieve PITY of all things, from someone like Sonic the Hedgehog? He almost wishes he were back in the scepter. A line of thinking that he dismisses because perish the thought it might happen. With his luck today…

“ Pretty good, “ he scoffs in mockery, looking away from the hedgehog. It’s something humbling if it isn’t completely annoying. “ I am fine. “

The most perfect truth with a million citations, in Mephiles’ eyes.

“ ...But— “ he recognizes when the board is at an impasse. “ If it had done anything… “

"Yeeeeeaaah, I'm not really a 'rotting' kinda guy." He shrugs like that says it all. If Mephiles doesn't want to trust him, that's fine, Sonic gets why the god isn't inclined to want to hang around him; Sonic doesn't want to either honestly, but hey, that's how the cookie crumbles so so be it. Gesturing to the aforementioned shambles that is Mephiles's body, he follows up with, "And didn't Eggman beat you up pretty good with his laser gun thingie? Look, I gotta stop it for my own reasons, and if that thing can do that much damage to a god, whatever Eggman's plannin' to do with it can't be good. That's my priority right now." Not a half-god wandering the time-space continuum. No offense Mephiles but you're not really worth Sonic's time right now (positive!!).

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n o n e x i s t e n t

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“ By all means, burst, “ the demon responds wryly from his perch, a resigned type of tired across his expression. He hadn’t fancied this being on his list of priorities today, but more than recently, Fleetway has cared little for that. It mostly seemed like his goal was causing Mephiles ire—and he’s lucky the demon has patience. Still, the demi-god has to wonder how literal a statement like that would be. Either way, all he can find himself thinking is: Can he put me down now? “ I’ve set the bar low enough. “

There’s a silence as he notices his companion’s change of expression. And he only gets a split second to react before he’s constricted tighter, swished side to side like some doll. Mephiles is fortunate he isn’t the type to get light-headed. Once wide eyes have found themselves once again, he sighs irritably.

“ Fair enough… but won’t this get boring? “

   "  well aren't you just THE SWEETEST !  "  other's gaze is met with a grin,  spirals alight with nothing short of pure amusement  (  the following set of cackles is sure to make it even more obvious  ) .  "  if i HAD A HEART it'd be READY TO BURST !  "  which would be an easy enough thing for fleetway to make actually happen of course,  but thankfully is the demonstration of such passed on.

   inquiry causes a pause,  expression faltering to that of curiosity for a mere second  —  grin reappearing with clear mischief in mind.

   "  isn't it OBVIOUS ?  i get to do THIS !  "  the this in question simply being that arms tighten around demonic companion in an affectionate squeeze  /  even swinging him side to side a bit  /  not dissimilar to what a child would do with a toy.

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@seaofserene SAID: " Have I ever told you.. " Delicate clawed fingertips reach to cup the demon's muzzle in her hands, gently tilting his head to meet her gaze. " ..That you have the prettiest eyes I've ever seen ? " ~ Serenity :3

The demi-deity is lost in his thoughts, watching the tide roll in and out of the coast. He doesn’t really feel like he’s there, but he never feels like he’s most places when he’s with her. Which is… a vast improvement, in his opinion. The thoughts are quieter, dulled. He can think without the plague of it all. He’s been settling for sitting in silence until the siren takes his muzzle in hold, blinking at her in response—not unlike a deer caught in headlights.

Reptilian eyes dart between claws and eyes, and for the first time, he’s wordless. Which is miraculous, for Mephiles the Dark never runs out of words to say. Then again, his face also doesn’t usually faintly flush in response to something said to him. Everything stops working.

“ ...no, “ he replies finally, his expression almost non-reactive but his eyes say everything. “ Y-you haven’t. “

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@somewhereinchaos / cont!

He’d mostly been talking to himself. Vulcan hadn’t expected anyone to really answer, moreso expecting a nonchalant shrug and someone to continue on their merry way. It’s not like anyone could understand the fundamentals of his mind like he could. He wishes… they could. He’s never really gotten far with wishing. He slumps back against the wall, slouched on the floor as his arms drape over his knees.

“ I’m not really… scared of anything, “ he replies, a stressed hand to his temple. A pause, and he seems to have second doubts. “ Except scorpions, enclosed spaces, and the dark. “

Did he really say that out loud? Did he really just admit his phobias to a STRANGER? He doesn’t know, he just felt like he could… trust this face. But it doesn’t matter now, he looks an absolute fool.

“ I don’t think I mean it? I just… sometimes I start talking, and then I zone out, and I feel… so, so angry for some reason, and by the time I’ve zoned back in… well... “ He stops, looking at his hand. Then he shakes his head. “ It’s not me. “

[shadowsceptered]

“ It is nothing, “ the demon hisses sharply, forcing himself to straighten. If he had insides, he’d say they were being crumpled like a piece of paper. He doesn’t, but it feels like a bizarre equivalent—his pain receptors had always been something non-existent, but this is different. He feels this, he feels the agony… almost akin to that of… He shakes it off, realizing where his train of thought is leading. No, he’s not about to tear himself open in front of the other. Eye roll in irritation at his lax behaviour, arms folding ( HUGGING HIMSELF, as if it helps the pain ). “ You can subside your jeering. “

There’s nothing amusing about it, he huffs in his thoughts.

   "  WHAT WAS THAT ?  "  golden brow raises,  sharp grin wide  /  ignorant to other's plight  (  or so he pretends to be  /  no move made to even try assisting the other  ) .  all too casual in the way he simply floats in his place like one would if they were laying on their side,  cheek rests on palm where elbow is propped up on air.  "  i thought you said it was NOTHING ?  "  tone borders mocking.

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had a mood drop bc of irl things. u-u so probably won't be writing tonight. if we're friends on discord feel free to plot dynamics w/ me

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@yourflame / cont!

Oh, how history does repeat itself and Mephiles is hardly surprised. Humanity catches wind of a powerhouse & jumps to its hasty conclusions. And with his existence blotted out of the memory of most, bar the odd exception, they haven’t the faintest idea of what they’re messing with. There are things not even Shadow knows he’s been capable of doing, retaining his power until he’s back to full capacity. ( AND EVEN THEN, his plans more assumed than concrete. Things are… changing. )

How fitting it is, that Shadow’s past is laid out before him, ready to be torn asunder. An outlet for his anguish, his SUFFERING—finally. But as he feels a hand reach for him, to halt whatever train of thought he’s on, the train stops. Reptilian eyes blink as they’re surrounded, peering down the barrels of guns and at the Ultimate Lifeform that has harboured him this long. They dart between his options: penultimate suffering, or salvation.

The former is so tempting, so beckoning. Mephiles has longed for violence the moment he’s been banished to the domestic life. It’s been amusing at first, but now, something is stirring, and he’s had enough of the peace. And he needs to remind himself what lies at the end of this. Things will not stay as they are. Things will not…

Shadow wakes up and Westopolis is gone. Mephiles sits at the mouth of a cave, overlooking the ruins of Kingdom Valley.

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@yourflame / cont!

It’s your choice, words that strike a chord in the demon as much as they send a sea of memories flooding back. He doesn’t remember when he was last conscious of it, bane of the Duke’s actions—or so he tells himself, vowing for a world that would know his suffering and see the light they had worshipped for so many years DIE. How long has he been doing this for…? ...he’s lost track. He doesn’t remember. All he knows is he’s kept going. And up until now, he’s not stopped.

Reptilian eyes dart to Shadow’s movement, flinching with the urge to bury himself away. There’s hesitance, a terrified but confused hesitance towards the hedgehog's openness. He doesn’t trust it, like he doesn’t trust most things; in the past, they’ve burned him. He’s burned. So he burns right back. And in spite of that, Shadow perseveres. Why? And then he speaks his apology. Mephiles shuts down. He feels his hatred, torn apart, invert violently—in a way he can’t understand.

You’re… sorry?

Lying. He has to be lying. Everyone else does. Mephiles does. He lies to himself, because it’s the only way he can keep going. It’s all a charade, a trick that Shadow is using to stop him from realizing what must be. Right? But as his hand sits in that of the Ultimate Life, the static in his mind quietens with little to no notice. Clarity… is that clarity…?

“ What if… I c-can’t understand? “ he asks, the stare vulnerable. “ Wasted… your time is wasted. And you’ll l-lock me away again. “