Mana-sama (pretty_mana) wrote in maliciousmizery,

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-For an eternity he sat there, trying desperately to concentrate on anything but what had just occurred. It all seemed to blur together in his mind, he could barely remember what had happened anymore... just that his guitar was broken, his dress ripped, his creativity smashed, and that it had been the phone that sparked it all.

The phone, and Klaha.

Just had to happen, didn't it. He was already annoyed at the man. Couldn't quite remember why right now. Knew it was true, though.

And so he sat, not trusting himself even to open his eyes, knowing that he'd see the destruction again if he did so... let alone get up and move somewhere, even to change out of the torn dress that constantly reminded him of its presence by the draft it created.

And so he just sat there, wallowing in his own thoughts, as blurred and incoherent as they were, with no real hope for a change in sight...-
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-After sitting, looking rather dazed and frustrated on a park bench for a long long time, getting fed up of staring at the floor, Klaha sighed and lifted his head.-

*.. saa... I NEED to talk to Mana. I don't know what the hell's going on... but ... I have to find out...*

-And so, with his over curious nature compelling him, Klaha stood up and set off once again, this time in the direction of Mana's abode.-
-He was up, now, had been for a few seconds, because doing anything was just as bad as staying where he was. His eyes were blurred, pinched, and slightly smeared with excess makeup, giving him only a slitted and darkened view of the world, which thankfully didn't include his guitar. It was likely he wouldn't have processed it if he had seen it.

He stumbled around the house, his subconscious taking over the steering to avoid further accidents, occasionally noticing small things, moving a vase a few inches to one side, straightening a frame, making a vague attempt at cleaning cutlery out of the kitchen where he and the other two had dumped the plates and remains of their lunch hastily in favour of continued practise. No real work was done, just a rearrangement, and he wandered away from the kitchen forgetting that it had ever occurred.

Some still-functioning part of his mind decided that going to the bedroom might be wise so that he could collapse without injury. But he continued to wander through the house like a zombie, as much because he couldn't remember where his bedroom was anyway as anything else.
-Rubbing his eyes and face tentatively, Klaha was still headed towards Mana's on foot. His walk had already dragged him so far out of his home area, he thought he may as well continue to meander drearily towards Mana's on foot.-

-A while later, he eventually turned the corner onto Mana's road and steeling himself up for a shouting at, just like in the days of Malice Mizer, he strode powerfully towards Mana's gate, feeling indestructable.-

-Suddenly losing all confidence, he gave a squeak as he gingerely pushed the wrought iron construction aside to let himself pass.-

"Saa... Klaha, what are you doing..." -he murmured lightly, shuffling towards Mana's door once again- *...he obviously doesn't want to talk to you...* -He paused once more before gliding slowly up the black stone steps to Mana's doorway-

-Questioning his motives one more time, and delibating if his curiosity was worth the potential slap he was going to get, he reached out a gloved hand towards the doorbell-
-Doors were inconvenient. They looked like walls unless a handle was spotted and the right neuron fired at the right time, and one of them might lead to that bedroom that some part of his mind was so constantly nagging about. So when he found one, he opened it, and walked in, and arranged and dusted some more, and walked out again.

One by one he located more and more of these annoying portals, often one hidden behind another. One of these had a surprise behind it, however...

It was a tall, brown, ornately-carved frame that stood before him, but his mind took in nothing but the handle that symbolised that it was not a wall. He fumbled with it a couple of times, trying to remember how they worked, got it right and then pulled on the door hard, swinging it open very quickly.

A man stood on the doorstep, one hand reaching out next to the door. Even through his haze of vision and mind he recognised this man, though he had a sudden memory blank to put a name to him. It woke him up slightly, though, and two streams of thought immediately set up in his mind.

The first was that this man was evil, and needed to be attacked violently. The second ranted about clothes and appearances, saying that the dress was still torn and getting worse in his wandering, his face was caked with smudged, awful-looking makeup, and that he couldn't be seen like this.

The two trains of thought battled each other in the treacle of his mind, and eventually came to a compromise as Mana slammed the door again, as hard as he could. That area could wait until later. He tottered away from the door, his mind denying it had ever happened and returning to its previous state. He didn't feel the tug and tear at his dress, where the material had been caught in the slamming door, preventing it from shutting properly, and as he moved away had pulled the door a crack open again, as well as further damaging the dress.

He returned to the kitchen, and continued to shuffle the cutlery from place to place.
As the door swung open to reveal Mana, loking like something of the living dead, Klaha's confidence dropped to a new all time low, and it was all he could do to retain his balance and not to run away screaming.

As the door slammed in his face, he argued inwardly whether to run off home to Atra and pretend he had never been to this place, or to stay and comfort this damsel who was obviously looking in the utmost distress.

His gentlemanly side winning him over, he pushed softly at the door, unsure of what to say to Mana-sama, even if he had still been standing there.

Klaha stepped forward slowly; edging past the door nervously,and looking around for Mana in case some large blunt object was headed in his general direction. Hearing the clinking of cutlery in the kitchen, he padded softly towards it and peered inside.
He continued to shift the knives, forks, mugs and plates around, every movement leaving him more dissatisfied and frustrated. It wasn't working. The whole thing was wrong. Why wouldn't it work? Why couldn't he find the right way to move them?

His movements became more jerky with every movement, and eventually a particularly hard push had the plates flying into the glasses and the whole lot going down to the floor with an ear-shattering clash. He jumped suddenly, frightened at this noise where it had been only noises in his mind until now, and stared at the floor suspisciously, but he couldn't quite figure out what was wrong with it... so came to the conclusion that it must therefore be perfectly fine.

Looking back at the bench, it was still strewn with cutlery, some knocked aside by the plates and glasses as they fell to spread randomly across the bench. Working from experience, he swept his hand across the bench, sending most of them flying to the floor along with the shattered glass and china. A few more blind sweeps took some of the escapees onto the floor too, leaving only a few pieces of silverware on the bench. He found two, and put them next to each other in the middle of the bench, looked at it, giggled softly, and decided that all was well. Another task completed.

With that, he immediately set off towards the next room, staggering towards the sharp-edged mess covering the floor.
Klaha stared at Mana for a moment.

"Oh.. good.. lord.."

Almost fearing to move in case Mana decided his skull should be next to join the shattered mess on the kitchen floor, he called out softly.

"Mana-sama... Mana?"

Stepping slowly over the shards of glass and china littering the floor, and vowing to clear up later, he followed Mana into the next room with a feeling of deep unease.

"Mana...?" He spoke again, but louder this time, not wanting Mana to do any more harm to his posessions or even - Klaha thought dismally - Himself.
He looked around the room blankly. It looked familiar, really. He'd been here before. Had he tried to clean up here? Not sure. Looking for imperfections, he staggered around the room. Ahh, here was a problem. Stacks of paper littered the floor. Scrunched and torn-up. This wouldn't do at all... but the paper constantly slipped from his numb fingers, falling back onto the pile. As he felt it, he realised the pile wasn't as big as it looked in any case. There was something under it. Oh well, that could wait until after the paper was cleaned up...

He tried vainly to push the paper together into a stack, but it was very slow going... hints of blue decoration were beginning to show beneath the torn-up chunks, and a long section extended under the seat, a couple of wires curling up under it, but this wasn't taken in, he had eyes only for the paper, for now...
He followed Mana gingerly through the door and was watching him fumble vainly with the mess of strewn papers across the floor when something caught his eye.

Jeunne Fille. Laying under the paper. This instantly struck Klaha as odd, Mana's prized guitar under all that destroyed manuscript? It would never happen. So why was it here in front of him...?

A chilling realisation swept over him as Mana shifted some paper to one side for a split second, revealing the brilliant blu of Jeunne Fille marred by a white mark. Not knowing what the mark was, or what had caused it, more likely fearing for his own head, Klaha stepped towards Mana.


On hearing no reply, Klaha took in one last deep breath, before wrapping one arm gently around Mana, and slowly pulling the man closer to himself, trying to lead him away from this mess and what he might discover beneath it.
The papers began to come together, but suddenly he found them moving away from him, and scrabbled desperately to keep hold, managing to grab a large bundle of them, although they floated from his hands rapidly. He shuffled through the pages manically, trying to get all the mis-matched torn sizes into neat-stacking pile, now that the ground had fled and he could not rest them on it.

For some reason it seemed difficult to move one of his arms down past a certain angle, but he never actually felt the arm that wrapped around him, and ignored it entirely - as well as the blue device the paper had rested on, now mostly revealed, including the snapped section, broken strings, and more chipped sections throughout the body and neck.
Wincing as the broken guitar was revealed from under the paper, Klaha tried to turn Mana to face him. At least if Mana was trying to claw his eyes out, he woun't be looking at the beautiful Jeunne Fille laying broken on the floor.

Now, having both arms rather tightly around Mana, Klaha gazed calmly into Mana's face and whispered, notably loudly.

"Mana-sama?", because without anything better to say, at least getting Mana's attention seemed like a sensible course of action.
Mana shuffled through the papers, more and more frantically, not really noticing as more and more of them fell to the ground. Even as he did this, he felt the room spin around him, his feet moving on the ground.

He hadn't told them to move, or at least was fairly sure he hadn't. Something else was taking control. The part of his mind that had been struggling to stay clear enough to make his staggering possible decided that now someone else could do the dirty work, and surrendered into the fog. The last of the paper fell from his hands, and he heard a vague voice whisper something, something familiar... a comforting sound. Something had him safe now, controlling his movements, caring for him. He sighed and giggled a little, just staring down at where the paper had been. All sorted now. All fine...
He pulled Mana as close as possible, giving a vague sigh of relief as Mana allowed himself to be led away. Looking around for somewhere to sit Mana down away from the mess around Juenne Fille and finding nothing, he gently picked Mana up in his arms and carried him upstairs to Mana's bedroom.

"Mana.. can you hear me? It's going to be okay now..."

Feeling slightly nervous, he gently sat Mana down on the bed and positioned himself next to him, one arm still supporting him in case he fell over backwards.

This new sort of movement was fun, really... didn't even involve the legs moving at all as he shifted through the house. There was a comforting voice echoing from somewhere, though he couldn't make out the words...

He looked around vaguely as he was moved, not recognising this area. He must've missed it somehow. More places to check. Must remember that.

Finally he came to a place he recognised, after a little thought, as the 'bedroom' that something had been urging him to seek for some time now. This was a good sign. Everything was going to work out...

He heard the voice again, a little clearer this time. Looking up, he laid eyes for the first time on the man who had been with him, though he couldn't make out any features, just a tall, dark outline, seated next to him, one arm reaching out to him. Someone had been helping him. He smiled. "Hello there..." He mumbled vaguely. "Thank you..."
Smiling suddenly at this sign of recognition, he spoke again in a quiet calm voice. Feeling suddenly protective and concerned about Mana, he spoke softly and kept close to Mana on the bed.

"Are you alright now...?"
The voice spoke again... he almost recognised the words, knew them somehow, but every time he almost had it they slipped out of his mental grip. He stared at his helper... feeling safe and secure, it would all be alright now... perhaps this person could help him work out what was... wrong? Was something wrong? Everything was frustrating, yes, but... it wasn't something bad, was it? Or was it? Had this man saved him from something?

He just sat there, staring at the figure, trying to focus on the face, to bring it together and connect it with something in his memory... it was important, somehow... but it was difficult, he faded in and out, the face wrapped in darkness for some reason... Again, just to frustrate him, it seemed.

"Not fair..." He mumbled. "Can't see..." He tried to reach a hand out weakly, but it didn't have the energy. "Not fair..." He repeated dejectedly...
He moved closer to Mana.

"Don't worry, it's okay..."

Feeling that perhaps repeating the same words might help. Perhaps if his heart wasn't racing so fast, he might have been able to remember the words he had been using seconds ago.

Concern marred his fear that if Mana came to his senses he might lose his face to those talons, so he remained close to Mana, trying to look as strong as possible in the light of a crisis.
The other moved closer, held tighter, gave some more words... but it was no comfort now, he didn't want to be reassured, he wanted to see the man's face. It was slowly getting clearer, but still fading in and out, still too dark to see. Pulling together his energy, he made a concentrating expression and reached out to brush some of the long hair away from the face... but something within, a spark of memory, changed the direction of his hand and tried to push the hair the other way, collecting more of it until almost half the face was quite obscured by the hair.

He could see the hair, if not the face, and that style was very familiar. Something snapped together inside his mind, and the face blurred together into the visage he knew.

"You..." He blinked twice. His mind was a little clearer now, and the part that was clearer was telling him that this man was trouble, to back away, or to attack him... but most of it remained foggy and quite convinced that he was a protector and a helper, and had done - could do - nothing but good.

He just continued staring blankly at the face while the two parts of his mind filled him with emotion... How could he attack this man after he'd helped him? He shook his head, just a slight movement at first, but soon his eyes were screwed closed and he was shaking it violently. "No... No!" He said thickly, trying to resolve the struggle in his head, putting a hand to it...
Shocked by Mana's sudden outburst and confused now, he put a hand to Mana's head and pulled it firmly against his chest so Mana wouldn't do himself any more.

"Mana.. listen to me.. calm down, it's alright..."

Both arms now around Mana, holding him still...
He felt the arms come around him, and gripped them tightly, accidentally digging his nails in without noticing, fighting against both trains of thought as they tried to overwhelm his mind, shaking and struggling strongly.

Klaha's words took a little while to register, but they seemed to snap him out of it slightly, and he stopped struggling and opened his eyes, staring at the one hugging him. The eyes still looked pained, however, and his body still shook, but he recognised the words.

"Al... right?" He repeated, in a voice still heavy with shock, almost fear. "I'll... I... Klaha..." He closed his eyes again and shook his head gently, and seemed to just fade out, the shaking slowly stopping but taking with it his self-support, his thoughts, and his consciousness...
He felt Mana go and moved quickly to hold the unconscious man up.

"Ssh... it's going to be okay..."

Slowly, he lay Mana out on the bed on his side, reluctant to let him go, but feeling it would probably be best for him.

He sat awkwardly, looking around the room at the beautiful trinkets covering the surfaces of the room. He leaned over and stroked some hair back from Mana's face, before getting up and going to the window, peering through a gap in the curtain at the street below.
It was some hours later before Mana woke, but he obviously didn't know that... He stirred vaguely, in the glorious state of unfettered half-sleep. But soon discomfort intruded upon this quiet state, and pulled him dragging back into the real world.

His memory had yet to wake and remind him of recent events, but he felt strangely restricted, his face felt strange. He brought a hand up to his face and started, feeling the smeared, blurred, cracked makeup peel and shift uncomfortably on his face... before realising that it wasn't even his hand that touched it, but a black glove.

Panicking, imagining that he had fallen asleep before a concert or PV, he fretted for a second before seeing the rest of his outfit. His eyes were still not working particularly well, but he could see enough to know that it was blue, very blue, and none of the concerts he would perform in now would look anything like this.

So he had fallen asleep in full costume and makeup. Despite what many fans might believe, this was not a regular occurance.

He shifted uncomfortably, unwilling to move much yet. I hope nobody sees me like this... I must look awful...
Klaha turned as he felt Mana stir, and watched silently as Mana's gloved hand moved slowly to touch his face behind the mask of smudged makeup. Seeing Mana's eyes open slightly he moved closer.

"Mana.. you awake...?" He whispered softly, and stood, awaiting a response before moving closer.
The whisper floated across the room as if summoned by his wish against it. He didn't recognise it at first, too caught up in the thought that somebody had seen him.

With the energy that comes from fear and shock, he rose out of bed seemingly without actually levering himself up in any way, to stare at the concerned face leveled at him from near the window. However, this had the unfortunate side-effect of allowing him to see the mirror on one wall, and himself in it.

He almost screamed.

His face was far worse than he had first suspected, the smeared makeup cracking worse as his jaw dropped as he stared. He was amazed that his eyes were unclogged enough for him to see. This almost distracted him enough for him not to notice further down, but the unusual breeze pulled his attention soon enough and he saw the massive tear in his dress, showing his legs to the world.

He covered his face with a hand, not wanting to see himself like this, or be seen like this, and used the other to attempt to somehow hide the massive tear, but it was no use - it was far too large, and would not be concealed. After some frantic whimpering as he attempted to fix the unfixable, he stopped suddenly and rounded on Klaha, glaring out at him from between his fingers.

"Get out! Get OUT! Out out out! Get out of this room! Don't look at me, just... out! What are you even doing here? What's goi- OUT! DON'T JUST STAND THERE, GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"


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