The sky overhead is dark, practically black. It's not quite night, though - instead it's as if something is making the sky look that way, blocking out all sunlight. All normalcy.
Because the city is no longer normal. As Madoka runs through the streets, rushing towards her goal, it's hard to even call it much of a city anymore at all. Buildings are ruined all around. There's wreckage everywhere, and debris is freely floating around in the air, as if the laws of gravity don't apply anymore. There is not a single person out there on the street, as if it's a ghost town. A town that's going through the apocalypse, but hasn't quite come out on the other side yet.
There's the constant sound of eerie inhuman laughter, and at the corner of Madoka's eyes she can notice odd figures slipping behind the buildings right as she wants to take a good look at them. But much more prominent and attention grabbing than those figures is the much larger figure hanging over the city. It's impossibly big, and it's hard to even discern what it is. It's like a figure hanging upside down, but lacking a face and much too big to be an actual human. And more than anything, it feels incredibly dangerous. It's like its presence is pressing down upon the city, making everything feel so much more terrifying as Madoka runs through the streets.
But she keeps running all the same, dodging debris along the way as best as she can. She's scared - of course she's scared - but she's also determined to keep going, no matter what, until she reaches the spot where that figure, the witch, Walpurgisnight, is hovering. Because she knows she's the only one who can do something about this. And if she doesn't...
A huge chunk of a building slams down right behind her, and Madoka lets out a shriek before running even faster, frowning in concentration.
For Madoka it's a regular evening at home. Which means her whole family is present at the dinner table. Her father still putting dishes down on the table, her mother rapidly chatting away about something at work or another, and her baby brother sitting in his high chair, prattling inconsistently while banging his plastic cutlery against the still empty plate in front of him.
She looks out of the window. It's late spring, which means the sky still hasn't darkened yet outside by dinnertime. The sky is blue outside, and on the TV that's still on in the distance in the living room the weatherman predicts clear skies and soft temperatures for the rest of the week. Some birds built a nest in the tree right outside the window, and the mother bird is still sitting on the eggs, though her dad has reassured Madoka that they could hatch anytime now.
Once food is served, Madoka patiently waits to take her food until the others have, earning her a laugh and a headpat from her mother. "Madoka, you've grown to be such a good kid! You really need to eat more though, so come on, come on!" Before Madoka can even do as much as protest, her mother is already piling more food onto her plate - probably more than she could finish, she figures.
Once everyone has gotten their share of food, they all - or, well, aside from Madoka's baby brother, who is currently busy trying to turn the vegetables on his plate into some kind of smashed up mush - put their hands together and thank for the food.
As they start eating, there's nothing but smiles and happy chatter all around.
Madoka is sitting on her bed. Even her room doesn't feel like a safe place anymore though as she's staring at the white creature on her bed that looks almost like a cat, yet not quite - something about the two sets of ears might throw anyone off the cat idea, at least. She has a pillow firmly clutched to her chest, almost as if to keep it as a barrier between her and the creature as she speaks up to it.
"You made contracts with everyone.. so that you could turn them all into witches?"
"Please don't get the wrong idea. It's not like we hold a grudge against you humans or anything. Everything is done in order to extend the universe's lifespan. Our civilization developed the technology to convert the emotions of intelligent life forms into energy. Unfortunately we don't have any of those so-called emotions. We examined various species throughout the universe, and found you humans. Your souls can generate enough energy to counteract entropy."
Even though it's hard for Madoka to follow, the girl still listens, though she's shrinking in on herself more with each word. She really doesn't like where this is going.
"Girls in their second growing period who transition between hope and despair are the most effective sources of energy. When your soul burns out, magical girls turn into a witch and your Soul Gem becomes a Grief Seed, releasing a tremendous amount of energy. The collection of that energy is the job of us Incubators."
When Madoka speaks up, it's like her voice is oddly choked. Like it's hard for her to even speak in the face of hearing something being said so incredibly callously by the creature. "Are we just.. disposable goods to you? Are you telling us to die for you..?" Her voice is soft, almost more a squeak.
"Eventually you humans will leave this planet and join us. In the long run, this should also benefit you," the creature explains, its tone so even. Completely devoid of any emotion.
"Stop.. Stop saying such stupid things!" Madoka's voice suddenly grows louder, obviously more desperate. There are tears in her eyes, but there's some anger in her voice. "Are you saying Mami-san and Sayaka-chan died for that ridiculous of a reason?! That's just.. just too cruel! You tricked us all..!"
The creature just slightly tilts its head sideways. "We have a hard time understanding the value standards of humans. Your population is currently 6,8 billion, and it is increasing by 100 every four seconds, so why do you get upset over whether a single one of you lives or dies?"
Madoka doesn't reply - only a choked sob manages to leave her as she buries her face into the pillow she's clutching.
The creature just turns at that, jumping up onto the windowsill behind the girl.
"I came here to explain everything to you, but I guess it's useless." The creature almost seems to sigh, but just as it's about to leave, it turns back around. ".. Madoka. You will one day become the most powerful magical girl, as well as the most evil witch. At that time, we will be able to obtain an amount of energy greate than we ever have before."
Madoka drops sideways onto the bed, still holding onto the pillow - but making sure to not look in the creature's direction as it speaks up again.
"So.. if you ever feel like dying for the sake of the universe, just let me know! I'll be waiting."
With that the creature jumps out of the window, leaving behind Madoka as she sobs into her bed.
With the sun setting at the horizon at the end of a long day, Inigo is wandering away from what seems like the obvious scene of a battlefield, judging by the scorchmarks left behind in the grass by magic and broken weapons lying discarded in the field. He's walking with some slight difficulty, perhaps the tiniest hint of a limp, as he rubs his leg and mumbles, "Ow! This one's pretty bad. I can't go back to camp like this..."
A man approaches him - not too much older than Inigo, but it's clear that they're related. They look way too much like each other for there to not be some connection. The man puts a hand on Inigo's shoulder. "Something wrong, Inigo? Everyone else has already headed back."
Inigo's jaw drops, momentarily overtaken by surprise, before he quickly tries to smile. "F-Father?! Er, I just... thought I saw a cute milkmaid at the edge of the battlefield!"
"... You're a worse liar than your mother. It's obvious your leg is wounded." The man frowns, reaching out to touch the leg Inigo was rubbing.
Inigo shrieks in pain. "It's fine, it's—GYAAAH! Ow! Ow, ow ow! No, don't touch it! Don't touch it!"
The frown on the man's face lingers, though his gaze shifts up from Inigo's leg to Inigo's face. "This is a serious injury, Inigo! Why didn't you say something?"
"What, and ruin my reputation?" Inigo bites his tongue, trying to shove the pain down far enough to be able to smile. "The ladies want Inigo the Invincible."
Suddenly the man pulls his hands off Inigo, taking a step back, the frown growing even more intense.
"Gods, ENOUGH, Inigo!"
"... Father?" The smile instantly fades off Inigo's face. There's something like a lost child about his facial expression - which is very much what he feels like right now in the face of the volume of his father's voice rising.
"You can barely walk, and you're still thinking about girls?! Be serious for once! Really, why did you travel back from the future? Lucina fights so hard, but you... Honestly, I'm disappointed. You have no idea what it means to be at war."
For a moment Inigo can't say anything. He just feels the light breeze drifting through his hair and the stinging pain of the wound on his leg as an awkward silence lingers. It would be so easy to just dismiss all this, play it off, make a joke, but before he can do any of that, different words flow out of his mouth: "You don't know a damned thing! You're the one who's clueless, Father!"
Now it's the other man looking speechless in the face of the outburst.
"Do you think I'd be out here if I were ONLY after girls? Out here fighting every day, wondering if this is the time I don't make it home?!"
Inigo's father says anything, but in Inigo's memory it's unintelligible, fading into the background compared to the feeling creeping under his skin, making him continue.
"You may think me a dandy and a fool, but a lot of people depended on me in the future. Every day, I was out there fighting Risen and risking my life. With everyone looking to me to be strong, I had no choice. I HAD to be invincible. I couldn't complain or show any weakness. Not with everyone else struggling in that damn war-torn wasteland... Even with you and Mother gone, I had to pretend I was fine. That I wasn't hurting. I had to fight every day of my sorry life and wear a smile while I did it!" He stops for a moment, his voice sounding like he's choking up, but then Inigo continues. "You said I looked like I didn't have a care in the world? Well, I'm sorry to tell you, but that's not the case at all. I smile and joke around because I don't want to show the world any weakness... If that disappoints you... then I guess you just have to be disappointed."
Inigo's father opens his mouth, but Inigo shakes his head. He doesn't want to hear it. Even though he said his father would just have to be disappointed in him, and surely he is.. he still doesn't want to hear it even more and further break his heart.
So Inigo turns away before anything else. "That said, I do appreciate the concern.. I'll get the leg looked at." Before the other can get a word in, Inigo is already walking away. He doesn't want to hear it. He knows he won't be able to stop himself from crying if he hears even further how much of a disappointment he is.
The Inigo who's running through a field of flowers can't be much older than four years old. It makes the field of flowers look even more massive, considering he's so small. From his height he doesn't quite look down on the flowers as much as most adults would - instead he stands among them, almost as one of them with his deep dark blue hair.
Or, well, there's not much standing about it. Inigo runs back and forth, jogging yet another slight distance as he spots a particularly interesting or pretty flower in the distance. In the background he can spot the palace where he lives, but the young boy has absolutely no interest in it. He's much too distracted by the rainbow of colours and all the interesting scents he's surrounded by.
A voice calls out to him, soft but bright, and apparently that is enough to make the boy's head turn. He looks to see the source of the noise - a woman with long, pink hair like cotton candy, and a wonderfully sweet smile on her face.
Inigo's face lights up.
"Mommy!" Instantly the boy seems to have forgotten all the flowers. Instead he starts running directly in the woman's direction - though right before he reaches her, he manages to trip over his own feet, landing face-first in the flowers and the dirt. There's a surprised yelp as he falls, but once he's lying on the ground, there's only a soft "ow."
The woman takes a few quick worried steps towards the boy, dropping herself to a squatting position and gently lifting him back up on both feet. Inigo's eyes are watery, the first hint of tears, though they don't quite spill as the woman smiles at him.
"Sweetie, did you hurt yourself? Are you okay?"
Inigo stares for a moment, a slight pout on his face. It's like the boy is thinking, but then he slowly nods. "Uh-huh. But.. I'll be okay.."
There's something slightly reluctant about the tone, but the woman just smiles and ruffles his hair slightly.
"You're such a big boy already, Inigo. Even though you're too cute for this world." She leans back on her heels. "Now, why don't we do something to cheer you up? Would you like to dance?"
The mention of that makes the boy's eyes light up instantly. He nods eagerly, and it makes the woman giggle as she stands up. Even though there's no music, she starts dancing on the spot between the flowers. It's as if her movements don't even need music - they just happen naturally, gracefully. Her long pink hair trails behind her as she moves her legs and arms.
And though he's still so young and clearly hasn't developed a fine sense of motoric skills yet, Inigo moves right along, trying to copy her every move as the two of them dance among the flowers with smiles on their faces.
Inigo's heels dig deeper into the dirt as another body falls to the ground after a swing from his sword. The sky overhead is dark, but cloudy - not a single star in sight. How long has he already been fighting today? At some point the day had changed into night without him doing as much as noticing it. There's no time for it. Not when their enemies just keep coming and coming, over and over, infinite waves of them. Every single time it feels like he's cut down the last few, more pop up.
His body aches. He's tired, but he keeps moving, almost automatically. Because he knows there's no choice. It's either force himself to keep going or die. Or worse - let his friends die. He can hear them fighting just as much as him, swords and lances and axes clashing, arrows flying across the battlefield, the telltale sounds of magic being flung around.
Inigo swings his sword. Left, right, two more bodies fall to the ground. Despite the fact that his enemies look human, they don't say a thing. They just mindlessly and quietly attack, at best letting out nothing more than a wordless roar. Their skin is already unnaturally pale, the look in their eyes empty. Like there's no soul left in there.
After what feels like an eternity the waves finally start slowing down. Less and less of the Risen show up, though the ground is now littered with bodies everywhere, making Inigo have to make sure to watch out where he's moving as he fights so he won't trip over them.
The last remaining Risen stands in front of him, a man only slightly older than him holding an axe. Inigo pulls back his sword and plunges it straight through his heart.
But he doesn't go down like the others. Not instantly. The look in the eyes of the Risen - the man - changes, some actual emotion slipping in, some soul, as the man smiles and faintly manages to mumble "Thank you" before collapsing to the ground.
Inigo freezes. The night air suddenly feels so much colder. Don't think about it, he tells himself. Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it.
He pulls his sword out of the corpse with a sickening sound and turns to walk. Someone calls out to him, one of his friends, looking as tired as Inigo feels his very bones are right now, asking him if he needs some healing from Brady. Inigo forces a smile on his face and shakes his head, saying he's fine, even though he can feel an open wound stinging at the back of his shoulders. Inigo tells him to check up on Nah first, he's pretty sure she got hurt pretty bad this time around-- and while the guy's back is turned, he quietly slips away, over to the nearby river.
He dips his sword into the water, attempting to rinse off all of the blood. Then he tugs off his shirt - the wound underneath stinging only more now it's exposed to the air - and holds it into the river. It's so red that its original colour only starts to appear as some of the blood washes out, though there are a few spots that he just can't seem to get rid of, no matter how much he tries to rub them out.
He thinks of the man whose eyes returned back to normal, who thanked him, and starts rubbing even more furiously. Tears appear in his eyes. Why won't the blood come out? Why won't it--
Without realising it, he's leaned forwards enough to catch a glimpse of himself in the water. Dirt and blood are smeared in streaks on his face, his hair so matted in blood that the usual dark blue has started to turn purple. Reflexively, as if burned by the sight, Inigo raises his hands up to his hair, trying to wipe out the blood. But considering his hands are covered in blood as well, it only makes worse of a mess. His arms feel so tired and heavy, but he keeps pushing himself, moving them more-- he has to get it out.
Everything in London has always been like this - dark, dirty, left to waste away - but as Alice heads down the trains of the train station, it somehow feels like things are extra dirty down there. Even her own outfit is covered in grime, and these dusty steps sure aren't doing much to make her shoes look any better, but she doesn't care. She's heading down the steps with purpose, and anger makes her blood boil as she sees the person standing there once she's done descending the stairs.
It's a somewhat older man. Definitely an adult, at least, and the way he's dressed up to the nines is a stark contrast with everything else in the train station.
He turns as he hears the sound of someone coming down the stairs, but Alice hardly waits until he's done turning to already start talking. "You oozing sore of depravity... children wearing their names around their necks, as if they're breeding livestock!"
The man seems completely unbothered by Alice's anger, no matter how obvious it is on display here. Instead he just laughs. "A declaration of their pedigree. You could use one, they're proud to display their provenance."
"You brute! They can't remember who they are or where they're from. How many minds have you twisted into forgetfulness?"
"Not enough. Yours would have been a triumph. Still, you're an insane wreck. The damage is done. The old Alice and her Wonderland retreat are demolished. You can't even recognize what's happened, and you're powerless to change it or move against me. I've made certain of that."
It's as if Alice can't even bear to listen. His words are like poison, crawling under her skin, and as she speaks up, she stomps her foot onto the ground in frustration at how useless this all feels. Because he's right. In this society, where he is seen as an important doctor and she's little more than a loonie, she is powerless.
But she can't give up.
"I'll see you charged. In prison, some half-wit bruiser will make you his sweetheart... and then you'll hang!"
The man turns his head slightly, his gaze half-amused, half-curious. "Indeed? A hysterical woman, former lunatic, roaring outrageous accusations against a respectable social architect and scientist. My god, Alice, who would believe you? I scarcely believe it myself."
Alice bristles. "You monstrous creature! Such evil will be punished!"
"By whom? By what? Psychotic, silly bitch. Your madness will be punished. Now leave. I'm expecting your replacement."
He turns away from her, obviously done with this conversation.
But Alice doesn't turn. She doesn't leave. Instead she slowly takes a step towards him, and then another, and then another, each step growing more certain. In the distance there's the recognizable sound of a train growing closer and closer.
She reaches out and shoves the man onto the tracks, right as the train passes the station. The sound of the train almost drowns out the loud crack.
In a much younger time Alice, still a young girl, is sitting on the shore. It doesn't quite seem to be a normal shore though - something is off about it. The fish that jump out from the waves every now and then sure don't look like any fish anyone has seen in any world, and the sky is an incredibly odd shade of green and pink mixed together.
Her company looks just as odd. As Alice is sitting in the cool sand there is a creature next to her that some might recognize as a gryphon - with the bottom half of a lion and the top half of an eagle - and the creature standing in front of the both of them is even more odd, looking like a turtle but with the head, hooves and tail of a cow.
Alice doesn't seem startled by any of it in the slightest though. Instead she stares between the two creatures with a mix of curiosity and eagerness in her eyes as the sea breeze moves her hair.
The Mock Turtle, the half-cow, half-turtle-like creature, has tears running down its face as it speaks. "You may not have lived much under the sea—" ("I haven’t," says Alice)—"and perhaps you were never even introduced to a lobster—" (Alice begins to say "I once tasted—" but checks herself hastily, and says "No, never") "—so you can have no idea what a delightful thing a Lobster Quadrille is!"
"No, indeed," Alice says. "What sort of a dance is it?"
"Why," the Gryphon says, "you first form into a line along the sea-shore—"
"Two lines!" cries the Mock Turtle. "Seals, turtles, salmon, and so on; then, when you’ve cleared all the jelly-fish out of the way—"
"That generally takes some time," interrupts the Gryphon.
"—you advance twice—"
"Each with a lobster as a partner!" cries the Gryphon.
"Of course," the Mock Turtle says: "advance twice, set to partners—"
"—change lobsters, and retire in same order," continues the Gryphon.
"Then, you know," the Mock Turtle goes on, "you throw the—"
"The lobsters!" shouts the Gryphon, with a bound into the air.
"—as far out to sea as you can—"
"Swim after them!" screams the Gryphon.
"Turn a somersault in the sea!" cries the Mock Turtle, capering wildly about.
"Change lobsters again!" yells the Gryphon at the top of its voice.
"Back to land again, and that’s all the first figure," said the Mock Turtle, suddenly dropping his voice; and the two creatures, who had been jumping about like mad things all this time, sat down again and looked at Alice.
But Alice just laughs. Not in a mean or mocking way, no - she just seems genuinely delighted by the way these two strange, strange animals were jumping around and talking about nonsensical things. The wind picks up her laughter, carrying it out over the sea.
Alice is lying in a room on a bed. The room isn't exactly inviting - it's cold, clinical. The door has a small window with bars in front of it and a heavy lock. The floor is dirty, and the walls perhaps even moreso, to not even start about the putrid smell that hangs in the air.
And yet, even as Alice is lying there in a bed with sheets that looks like they haven't seen a proper wash in weeks, she doesn't try to get up. She doesn't sit or move. She just lies there, silently, her only company a plush rabbit tucked away under her arm.
For a moment, that is, until two men - or boys, it's hard to tell - enter the room. One is small, the other is tall, but they're both wide and big, almost grotesquely so. Their facial expressions are set in cruel grins as they stare at Alice while she lies there.
"Well, look who we have here! The doctor's favourite lunatic!"
The big one reaches out to grab the plush rabbit from Alice's side. The smaller one holds a pan of-- something, most likely some sort of porridge judging by the consistency, even though the colour is awful. He reaches into it with a spoon, pretending to "feed" it to the rabbit by smudging the porridge all over the plush animal's fur as both of the men laugh, happily chattering away to each other.
"Why, if she can't feed the rabbit herself, we ought to, huh?"
"The doctor says she hasn't been up in years. Won't even move. A complete lost cause!"
"Maybe they ought to try some more of what they've done before! Some more shock therapy, or-- oh, oh, maybe some more leeches! I'll do it! I can make them hurt!"
And while Alice may not move from her position on the bed, she notices. She's well aware of everything happening around her. And as the men proceed to dirty the rabbit further and further, Alice suddenly springs up from the bed with a feral shriek. She grabs the spoon from one of the men's hands, starting to chase him around the room with it as he tries to get away from her. She swings it like it's a knife, driving the spoon into his cheek, starting to draw blood as a gash forms on his skin--
But it doesn't last. The next moment Alice can feel hands seizing her wrists, her waist, her legs. Multiple people storm into the room, shouting too many things for her to grasp any of them, dragging her back to the bed. Alice struggles, knowing she can't have this happen, she's got to get her rabbit back-- but as she opens her mouth, no sound comes out. She couldn't even plead for it if she wanted to.
Instead she just tries to resist to the last moment, but the force is too overwhelming. She's brought back to the bed and strapped in tight this time, unable to escape from it.
Everyone leaves until the room is entirely empty this time.
Aside from the poor, dirty plush rabbit sitting on the floor.
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madoka - memory one (48 hours before arrival)
Because the city is no longer normal. As Madoka runs through the streets, rushing towards her goal, it's hard to even call it much of a city anymore at all. Buildings are ruined all around. There's wreckage everywhere, and debris is freely floating around in the air, as if the laws of gravity don't apply anymore. There is not a single person out there on the street, as if it's a ghost town. A town that's going through the apocalypse, but hasn't quite come out on the other side yet.
There's the constant sound of eerie inhuman laughter, and at the corner of Madoka's eyes she can notice odd figures slipping behind the buildings right as she wants to take a good look at them. But much more prominent and attention grabbing than those figures is the much larger figure hanging over the city. It's impossibly big, and it's hard to even discern what it is. It's like a figure hanging upside down, but lacking a face and much too big to be an actual human. And more than anything, it feels incredibly dangerous. It's like its presence is pressing down upon the city, making everything feel so much more terrifying as Madoka runs through the streets.
But she keeps running all the same, dodging debris along the way as best as she can. She's scared - of course she's scared - but she's also determined to keep going, no matter what, until she reaches the spot where that figure, the witch, Walpurgisnight, is hovering. Because she knows she's the only one who can do something about this. And if she doesn't...
A huge chunk of a building slams down right behind her, and Madoka lets out a shriek before running even faster, frowning in concentration.
madoka - memory two (positive)
She looks out of the window. It's late spring, which means the sky still hasn't darkened yet outside by dinnertime. The sky is blue outside, and on the TV that's still on in the distance in the living room the weatherman predicts clear skies and soft temperatures for the rest of the week. Some birds built a nest in the tree right outside the window, and the mother bird is still sitting on the eggs, though her dad has reassured Madoka that they could hatch anytime now.
Once food is served, Madoka patiently waits to take her food until the others have, earning her a laugh and a headpat from her mother. "Madoka, you've grown to be such a good kid! You really need to eat more though, so come on, come on!" Before Madoka can even do as much as protest, her mother is already piling more food onto her plate - probably more than she could finish, she figures.
Once everyone has gotten their share of food, they all - or, well, aside from Madoka's baby brother, who is currently busy trying to turn the vegetables on his plate into some kind of smashed up mush - put their hands together and thank for the food.
As they start eating, there's nothing but smiles and happy chatter all around.
madoka - memory three (negative)
"You made contracts with everyone.. so that you could turn them all into witches?"
"Please don't get the wrong idea. It's not like we hold a grudge against you humans or anything. Everything is done in order to extend the universe's lifespan. Our civilization developed the technology to convert the emotions of intelligent life forms into energy. Unfortunately we don't have any of those so-called emotions. We examined various species throughout the universe, and found you humans. Your souls can generate enough energy to counteract entropy."
Even though it's hard for Madoka to follow, the girl still listens, though she's shrinking in on herself more with each word. She really doesn't like where this is going.
"Girls in their second growing period who transition between hope and despair are the most effective sources of energy. When your soul burns out, magical girls turn into a witch and your Soul Gem becomes a Grief Seed, releasing a tremendous amount of energy. The collection of that energy is the job of us Incubators."
When Madoka speaks up, it's like her voice is oddly choked. Like it's hard for her to even speak in the face of hearing something being said so incredibly callously by the creature. "Are we just.. disposable goods to you? Are you telling us to die for you..?" Her voice is soft, almost more a squeak.
"Eventually you humans will leave this planet and join us. In the long run, this should also benefit you," the creature explains, its tone so even. Completely devoid of any emotion.
"Stop.. Stop saying such stupid things!" Madoka's voice suddenly grows louder, obviously more desperate. There are tears in her eyes, but there's some anger in her voice. "Are you saying Mami-san and Sayaka-chan died for that ridiculous of a reason?! That's just.. just too cruel! You tricked us all..!"
The creature just slightly tilts its head sideways. "We have a hard time understanding the value standards of humans. Your population is currently 6,8 billion, and it is increasing by 100 every four seconds, so why do you get upset over whether a single one of you lives or dies?"
Madoka doesn't reply - only a choked sob manages to leave her as she buries her face into the pillow she's clutching.
The creature just turns at that, jumping up onto the windowsill behind the girl.
"I came here to explain everything to you, but I guess it's useless." The creature almost seems to sigh, but just as it's about to leave, it turns back around. ".. Madoka. You will one day become the most powerful magical girl, as well as the most evil witch. At that time, we will be able to obtain an amount of energy greate than we ever have before."
Madoka drops sideways onto the bed, still holding onto the pillow - but making sure to not look in the creature's direction as it speaks up again.
"So.. if you ever feel like dying for the sake of the universe, just let me know! I'll be waiting."
With that the creature jumps out of the window, leaving behind Madoka as she sobs into her bed.
inigo - memory one (48 hours before arrival)
A man approaches him - not too much older than Inigo, but it's clear that they're related. They look way too much like each other for there to not be some connection. The man puts a hand on Inigo's shoulder. "Something wrong, Inigo? Everyone else has already headed back."
Inigo's jaw drops, momentarily overtaken by surprise, before he quickly tries to smile. "F-Father?! Er, I just... thought I saw a cute milkmaid at the edge of the battlefield!"
"... You're a worse liar than your mother. It's obvious your leg is wounded." The man frowns, reaching out to touch the leg Inigo was rubbing.
Inigo shrieks in pain. "It's fine, it's—GYAAAH! Ow! Ow, ow ow! No, don't touch it! Don't touch it!"
The frown on the man's face lingers, though his gaze shifts up from Inigo's leg to Inigo's face. "This is a serious injury, Inigo! Why didn't you say something?"
"What, and ruin my reputation?" Inigo bites his tongue, trying to shove the pain down far enough to be able to smile. "The ladies want Inigo the Invincible."
Suddenly the man pulls his hands off Inigo, taking a step back, the frown growing even more intense.
"Gods, ENOUGH, Inigo!"
"... Father?" The smile instantly fades off Inigo's face. There's something like a lost child about his facial expression - which is very much what he feels like right now in the face of the volume of his father's voice rising.
"You can barely walk, and you're still thinking about girls?! Be serious for once! Really, why did you travel back from the future? Lucina fights so hard, but you... Honestly, I'm disappointed. You have no idea what it means to be at war."
For a moment Inigo can't say anything. He just feels the light breeze drifting through his hair and the stinging pain of the wound on his leg as an awkward silence lingers. It would be so easy to just dismiss all this, play it off, make a joke, but before he can do any of that, different words flow out of his mouth: "You don't know a damned thing! You're the one who's clueless, Father!"
Now it's the other man looking speechless in the face of the outburst.
"Do you think I'd be out here if I were ONLY after girls? Out here fighting every day, wondering if this is the time I don't make it home?!"
Inigo's father says anything, but in Inigo's memory it's unintelligible, fading into the background compared to the feeling creeping under his skin, making him continue.
"You may think me a dandy and a fool, but a lot of people depended on me in the future. Every day, I was out there fighting Risen and risking my life. With everyone looking to me to be strong, I had no choice. I HAD to be invincible. I couldn't complain or show any weakness. Not with everyone else struggling in that damn war-torn wasteland... Even with you and Mother gone, I had to pretend I was fine. That I wasn't hurting. I had to fight every day of my sorry life and wear a smile while I did it!" He stops for a moment, his voice sounding like he's choking up, but then Inigo continues. "You said I looked like I didn't have a care in the world? Well, I'm sorry to tell you, but that's not the case at all. I smile and joke around because I don't want to show the world any weakness... If that disappoints you... then I guess you just have to be disappointed."
Inigo's father opens his mouth, but Inigo shakes his head. He doesn't want to hear it. Even though he said his father would just have to be disappointed in him, and surely he is.. he still doesn't want to hear it even more and further break his heart.
So Inigo turns away before anything else. "That said, I do appreciate the concern.. I'll get the leg looked at." Before the other can get a word in, Inigo is already walking away. He doesn't want to hear it. He knows he won't be able to stop himself from crying if he hears even further how much of a disappointment he is.
inigo - memory two (positive)
Or, well, there's not much standing about it. Inigo runs back and forth, jogging yet another slight distance as he spots a particularly interesting or pretty flower in the distance. In the background he can spot the palace where he lives, but the young boy has absolutely no interest in it. He's much too distracted by the rainbow of colours and all the interesting scents he's surrounded by.
A voice calls out to him, soft but bright, and apparently that is enough to make the boy's head turn. He looks to see the source of the noise - a woman with long, pink hair like cotton candy, and a wonderfully sweet smile on her face.
Inigo's face lights up.
"Mommy!" Instantly the boy seems to have forgotten all the flowers. Instead he starts running directly in the woman's direction - though right before he reaches her, he manages to trip over his own feet, landing face-first in the flowers and the dirt. There's a surprised yelp as he falls, but once he's lying on the ground, there's only a soft "ow."
The woman takes a few quick worried steps towards the boy, dropping herself to a squatting position and gently lifting him back up on both feet. Inigo's eyes are watery, the first hint of tears, though they don't quite spill as the woman smiles at him.
"Sweetie, did you hurt yourself? Are you okay?"
Inigo stares for a moment, a slight pout on his face. It's like the boy is thinking, but then he slowly nods. "Uh-huh. But.. I'll be okay.."
There's something slightly reluctant about the tone, but the woman just smiles and ruffles his hair slightly.
"You're such a big boy already, Inigo. Even though you're too cute for this world." She leans back on her heels. "Now, why don't we do something to cheer you up? Would you like to dance?"
The mention of that makes the boy's eyes light up instantly. He nods eagerly, and it makes the woman giggle as she stands up. Even though there's no music, she starts dancing on the spot between the flowers. It's as if her movements don't even need music - they just happen naturally, gracefully. Her long pink hair trails behind her as she moves her legs and arms.
And though he's still so young and clearly hasn't developed a fine sense of motoric skills yet, Inigo moves right along, trying to copy her every move as the two of them dance among the flowers with smiles on their faces.
inigo - memory three (negative)
His body aches. He's tired, but he keeps moving, almost automatically. Because he knows there's no choice. It's either force himself to keep going or die. Or worse - let his friends die. He can hear them fighting just as much as him, swords and lances and axes clashing, arrows flying across the battlefield, the telltale sounds of magic being flung around.
Inigo swings his sword. Left, right, two more bodies fall to the ground. Despite the fact that his enemies look human, they don't say a thing. They just mindlessly and quietly attack, at best letting out nothing more than a wordless roar. Their skin is already unnaturally pale, the look in their eyes empty. Like there's no soul left in there.
After what feels like an eternity the waves finally start slowing down. Less and less of the Risen show up, though the ground is now littered with bodies everywhere, making Inigo have to make sure to watch out where he's moving as he fights so he won't trip over them.
The last remaining Risen stands in front of him, a man only slightly older than him holding an axe. Inigo pulls back his sword and plunges it straight through his heart.
But he doesn't go down like the others. Not instantly. The look in the eyes of the Risen - the man - changes, some actual emotion slipping in, some soul, as the man smiles and faintly manages to mumble "Thank you" before collapsing to the ground.
Inigo freezes. The night air suddenly feels so much colder. Don't think about it, he tells himself. Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it.
He pulls his sword out of the corpse with a sickening sound and turns to walk. Someone calls out to him, one of his friends, looking as tired as Inigo feels his very bones are right now, asking him if he needs some healing from Brady. Inigo forces a smile on his face and shakes his head, saying he's fine, even though he can feel an open wound stinging at the back of his shoulders. Inigo tells him to check up on Nah first, he's pretty sure she got hurt pretty bad this time around-- and while the guy's back is turned, he quietly slips away, over to the nearby river.
He dips his sword into the water, attempting to rinse off all of the blood. Then he tugs off his shirt - the wound underneath stinging only more now it's exposed to the air - and holds it into the river. It's so red that its original colour only starts to appear as some of the blood washes out, though there are a few spots that he just can't seem to get rid of, no matter how much he tries to rub them out.
He thinks of the man whose eyes returned back to normal, who thanked him, and starts rubbing even more furiously. Tears appear in his eyes. Why won't the blood come out? Why won't it--
Without realising it, he's leaned forwards enough to catch a glimpse of himself in the water. Dirt and blood are smeared in streaks on his face, his hair so matted in blood that the usual dark blue has started to turn purple. Reflexively, as if burned by the sight, Inigo raises his hands up to his hair, trying to wipe out the blood. But considering his hands are covered in blood as well, it only makes worse of a mess. His arms feel so tired and heavy, but he keeps pushing himself, moving them more-- he has to get it out.
It won't come out.
alice - memory one (48 hours before arrival)
It's a somewhat older man. Definitely an adult, at least, and the way he's dressed up to the nines is a stark contrast with everything else in the train station.
He turns as he hears the sound of someone coming down the stairs, but Alice hardly waits until he's done turning to already start talking. "You oozing sore of depravity... children wearing their names around their necks, as if they're breeding livestock!"
The man seems completely unbothered by Alice's anger, no matter how obvious it is on display here. Instead he just laughs. "A declaration of their pedigree. You could use one, they're proud to display their provenance."
"You brute! They can't remember who they are or where they're from. How many minds have you twisted into forgetfulness?"
"Not enough. Yours would have been a triumph. Still, you're an insane wreck. The damage is done. The old Alice and her Wonderland retreat are demolished. You can't even recognize what's happened, and you're powerless to change it or move against me. I've made certain of that."
It's as if Alice can't even bear to listen. His words are like poison, crawling under her skin, and as she speaks up, she stomps her foot onto the ground in frustration at how useless this all feels. Because he's right. In this society, where he is seen as an important doctor and she's little more than a loonie, she is powerless.
But she can't give up.
"I'll see you charged. In prison, some half-wit bruiser will make you his sweetheart... and then you'll hang!"
The man turns his head slightly, his gaze half-amused, half-curious. "Indeed? A hysterical woman, former lunatic, roaring outrageous accusations against a respectable social architect and scientist. My god, Alice, who would believe you? I scarcely believe it myself."
Alice bristles. "You monstrous creature! Such evil will be punished!"
"By whom? By what? Psychotic, silly bitch. Your madness will be punished. Now leave. I'm expecting your replacement."
He turns away from her, obviously done with this conversation.
But Alice doesn't turn. She doesn't leave. Instead she slowly takes a step towards him, and then another, and then another, each step growing more certain. In the distance there's the recognizable sound of a train growing closer and closer.
She reaches out and shoves the man onto the tracks, right as the train passes the station. The sound of the train almost drowns out the loud crack.
alice - memory two (positive)
Her company looks just as odd. As Alice is sitting in the cool sand there is a creature next to her that some might recognize as a gryphon - with the bottom half of a lion and the top half of an eagle - and the creature standing in front of the both of them is even more odd, looking like a turtle but with the head, hooves and tail of a cow.
Alice doesn't seem startled by any of it in the slightest though. Instead she stares between the two creatures with a mix of curiosity and eagerness in her eyes as the sea breeze moves her hair.
The Mock Turtle, the half-cow, half-turtle-like creature, has tears running down its face as it speaks. "You may not have lived much under the sea—" ("I haven’t," says Alice)—"and perhaps you were never even introduced to a lobster—" (Alice begins to say "I once tasted—" but checks herself hastily, and says "No, never") "—so you can have no idea what a delightful thing a Lobster Quadrille is!"
"No, indeed," Alice says. "What sort of a dance is it?"
"Why," the Gryphon says, "you first form into a line along the sea-shore—"
"Two lines!" cries the Mock Turtle. "Seals, turtles, salmon, and so on; then, when you’ve cleared all the jelly-fish out of the way—"
"That generally takes some time," interrupts the Gryphon.
"—you advance twice—"
"Each with a lobster as a partner!" cries the Gryphon.
"Of course," the Mock Turtle says: "advance twice, set to partners—"
"—change lobsters, and retire in same order," continues the Gryphon.
"Then, you know," the Mock Turtle goes on, "you throw the—"
"The lobsters!" shouts the Gryphon, with a bound into the air.
"—as far out to sea as you can—"
"Swim after them!" screams the Gryphon.
"Turn a somersault in the sea!" cries the Mock Turtle, capering wildly about.
"Change lobsters again!" yells the Gryphon at the top of its voice.
"Back to land again, and that’s all the first figure," said the Mock Turtle, suddenly dropping his voice; and the two creatures, who had been jumping about like mad things all this time, sat down again and looked at Alice.
But Alice just laughs. Not in a mean or mocking way, no - she just seems genuinely delighted by the way these two strange, strange animals were jumping around and talking about nonsensical things. The wind picks up her laughter, carrying it out over the sea.
alice - memory three (negative)
And yet, even as Alice is lying there in a bed with sheets that looks like they haven't seen a proper wash in weeks, she doesn't try to get up. She doesn't sit or move. She just lies there, silently, her only company a plush rabbit tucked away under her arm.
For a moment, that is, until two men - or boys, it's hard to tell - enter the room. One is small, the other is tall, but they're both wide and big, almost grotesquely so. Their facial expressions are set in cruel grins as they stare at Alice while she lies there.
"Well, look who we have here! The doctor's favourite lunatic!"
The big one reaches out to grab the plush rabbit from Alice's side. The smaller one holds a pan of-- something, most likely some sort of porridge judging by the consistency, even though the colour is awful. He reaches into it with a spoon, pretending to "feed" it to the rabbit by smudging the porridge all over the plush animal's fur as both of the men laugh, happily chattering away to each other.
"Why, if she can't feed the rabbit herself, we ought to, huh?"
"The doctor says she hasn't been up in years. Won't even move. A complete lost cause!"
"Maybe they ought to try some more of what they've done before! Some more shock therapy, or-- oh, oh, maybe some more leeches! I'll do it! I can make them hurt!"
And while Alice may not move from her position on the bed, she notices. She's well aware of everything happening around her. And as the men proceed to dirty the rabbit further and further, Alice suddenly springs up from the bed with a feral shriek. She grabs the spoon from one of the men's hands, starting to chase him around the room with it as he tries to get away from her. She swings it like it's a knife, driving the spoon into his cheek, starting to draw blood as a gash forms on his skin--
But it doesn't last. The next moment Alice can feel hands seizing her wrists, her waist, her legs. Multiple people storm into the room, shouting too many things for her to grasp any of them, dragging her back to the bed. Alice struggles, knowing she can't have this happen, she's got to get her rabbit back-- but as she opens her mouth, no sound comes out. She couldn't even plead for it if she wanted to.
Instead she just tries to resist to the last moment, but the force is too overwhelming. She's brought back to the bed and strapped in tight this time, unable to escape from it.
Everyone leaves until the room is entirely empty this time.
Aside from the poor, dirty plush rabbit sitting on the floor.