imaginemeandyuu | Alma Heart Game

You find yourselves in cylindrical room. It is short, so anyone over five and a half feet definitely has to stoop, as if it was designed for a child, but it's still maybe twenty feet wide. There are no visible doors or windows, but everything is mirrors.

Literally.

The ceiling is made of mirrors -- largely rectangular ones, though in the dead center is a circular one. The floor matches it, made of mostly rectangular mirrors with a circular one in the center. All the walls, ringing the room, are covered from floor to ceiling in mirrors. You reflect into infinity in every direction and it has the unnerving feeling like one of your hundreds of reflections might suddenly do something different from the others.

The mirrors aren't all in the same condition, however. The tops of the walls, and the mirrors on the ceiling, are tarnished and gross, showing age spots, discoloration, handprints. Things are smeared on them, dark fluids and dirt. The circular mirror in the center is chipped, including a large sharp-seeming chip toward one edge which leaves a small black peephole into -- what, exactly?

The floor and the lower parts of the walls seem, in comparison, glitteringly clean, but these are the ones where you can see your reflections best, where, as you turn and glance around, you have the biggest sense that something turned in the wrong direction, a hand moved where it shouldn't, the wrong color for your clothes or hair or eyes was briefly glimpsed. The circular mirror in the center is also the brightest and cleanest of these mirrors, so much so it seems almost to be glowing.

Floating in the center of the room, exactly halfway between the two circular mirrors, is a bowl. It is currently empty and despite floating in space doesn't seem to be movable from its current location.

You climb up through the mirror into the dark space above. It's just as dark on the other side but as your eyes adjust you see what's blocking the light.

It's flesh.

Twisted bulging flesh, stained dark as with tattoos but with a pale whiteness showing between those whirls and bulges. You can't make out any specific body parts, and perhaps that's for the best but... you all know what flesh looks like, what it feels like.

It's warm, also, like the heat of standing in a packed crowd of people, being surrounded by this much flesh.

It forms a winding passage leading off in two opposite directions, left and right (more or less; it's hard to tell in this twisting darkness), as well as the entryway you came in by below. Of course, walking isn't exactly easy on soft, squishy flesh that you can feel give under your feet...

When you take the path to the right, it seems to narrow, as if the flesh is pressing in on you -- then abruptly widens. Not because the flesh parted on its own but because it's been separated. Chains start piercing out through the flesh, leaving small pools of blood, and are yanked tight, hauling the walls of flesh back, bulging somewhat around their rusty, iron loops.

Metal bars also start to define space, holding the walls back or keeping you in, but widen into a much larger area that is -- well. It's not good.

At first, it may seem to be flooded by blood because of the piercing chains, the sharp points at the end of the iron bars, but you only have to get a bit closer to realize that, no, the blood is from something else, and those twisted forms in the middle of the room aren't parts of the flesh of the floor but are corpses, strewn on top of each other and scattered around.

At the top of this tableau of corpses is a figure made up of feathers. You can't make out its face, but it has two arms, two legs, a head, all covered in bloodstained white feathers. One arm has an organic scythe emerging from it, a body still partially on it -- it's pretty clear it's this one who was responsible for the corpses in here. The feather person is stretching out its hands, holding a human heart, up to the beautiful young boy standing over it, also drenched in blood, holding a sword over his head and trembling as he prepares to bring it down on the feather figure or the organ it's holding.

Both figures seem to be crying.

Past them, the flesh corridor seems to split into two paths leading deeper into the darkness. One seems to wind slightly upward, the other slightly downward.

The flesh path continues through the opening in the corpse room which winds up, and twists and turns so much that for segments of it you have to pull yourself up with your hands on the pulsing flesh like climbing a cliff.

But it evens out after a while and again, chains and bars start to pull the flesh back and force it to separate. Mostly chains, though, way more chains than before, winding and tugging and pulling more and more to the point that you'd have to push them aside to touch any flesh at all.

Eventually they form an opening of a sort, almost all metal, winding clanking chains shifting and pulling ever tighter. The room itself seems to have been some kind of woman's bedroom, though it's hard to tell under the mass of metal. Chains cover the bed, the dresser, the dress stand next to it. As well as those, you can make out (all wrapped up in chains) a bookcase, a rocking chair, and a washbasin.

You may be more interested in the...decoration? On the 'roof'. The chains wind up and around the body of a woman, keeping her tied up overhead. She's in her mid-thirties, with shoulder-length blond hair, and while she's no unearthly beauty she's nice enough to look at, the chains marking out a curvy body.

She is also crying, and apparently injured, blood dripping down from the chains wrapping her midsection. A knife sticks out of her, from between two chains.

There is no way out except the way you came.

You take the flesh path winding downward. It gets narrower again, and this time there's no metal pieces forcing it back; it closes close enough that for a while it seems like it might close completely in a dead end, pressing in tight and warm and slightly moist around you.

But it continues to stay just around the size for your shoulders to brush it on either side, and eventually it reaches a pucker out of which some long white hair is hanging, maybe four feet long.

When you take the path to the left, the flesh making up the walls slowly widens. It hardens as you go on, as if into scales or bone -- it still looks like flesh, but it's no longer squishing. It hollows out into a wide, cave-like area.

This cave is full of what seems like stalagmites and stalactites -- sharp bone spurs spiraling up from the ground. On each of these, resting like a carving or a mask, is a face -- Alma's face, as if peeled off and abandoned.

The faces near the entrance bear smiles, bright and wide, though resting as they are on top of the spikes it's clear there's nothing behind them, hollow eyes and hollow mouth showing the spike behind it.

As you proceed there seem to be more and more of them and they bear more and more types of faces. Twisted, angry, despairing, ecstatic.

"It won't come off, it should come off, it must come off, come on, come on."

Alma -- or at least, it mostly looks like Alma, though his body is even more twisted and bestial than usual, spikes larger, tail whipping back and forth, his exoskeleton heavier than you're used to and more gnarled -- is rubbing his face against a spike, apparently trying to peel it off.

"They'll be upset if they see it, it has to come off, come off, come off!"

Past where Alma is, the path splits, one slanting slightly further up, the other slanting slightly further down.

The hardened path continues upward, first a slow and gentle incline, then a twisting slope like a spiral staircase (or, rather, a slide). If you lose your grip, you'll probably slide all the way back into the room with the spikes. Careful about that.

It emerges quite suddenly through the 'floor' into a wider area. Except the outside walls of the area are glass and through them you see terrible scenes, as if through a window or a TV screen. Mordred's game images. Tiger's Eye and Ruby members dead in games. A woman crying alone, her face in her hands, blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. A beautiful young boy, unconscious, being carried into a room by several people in white coats. Blood spattered everywhere. Every facet of the 'glass' shows a different, similar scene.

There is a device in the center of the room, about three feet tall, which looks somewhat like this, though spherical in the center, with the spikes ringing it. Every thirty seconds or so (you'd better duck once you're out of the hole high enough to risk getting hit by it) it shoots out sharp spikes into the walls, which shatter around it. The glass crawls around the spikes, then absorbs them, reforming into solid clear walls again.

A screaming can be heard from inside the device. No words, just endless wailing.

There is no way out except the way you came.

You take the hardened path winding downward. Parts of it squeeze tight; other parts bulge wide open that they're almost big, empty rooms in and of themselves. Other parts twist, and drop -- the path is unpredictable, and you have to move carefully.

Eventually, it seems to continue straight ahead -- but as you approach, you realize that was an optical illusion, hardened flesh that is colored to look like the path continuing, and it actually drops out from under your feet. It's not a long drop, and will be easy enough to climb back up, but it's a sudden one.

It ends in -- not really a room, or even a cave opening, so much as just a space which doesn't make much sense. It is all wrong in here. Parts are soft and covered with cloth; other parts are hard and damp and bloody. Parts are decorated in beautiful gold and gems and parts are in blacks and iron.

A pool is in the middle of the space, water mixing with stagnant mud mixing with blood. From the center of it is a flat rock, or what looks like a rock, with a doll on it. The doll is androgynous, pretty, with eyelashes until tomorrow and a small curving smiling mouth, but its hair is chopped short and it has thick brows drawn on. Its eyes are closed. Around it are laid out a lot of clothes, sized for the doll:

- A yellow short-sleeved dress with lace on the bottom and a black flower pattern on it.
- A super stretchy yellow and black skintight body suit (with a hole over the butt)
- black jacket with puff sleeves
- Black drop crotch pants
- Dark gray leggings
- A yellow jacket detailed in black with pockets
- Tuxedo wrist cuffs
- A victorian-style woman's dress, made to look like a uniform
- A black tunic top with yellow detailing on the edges
- Spandex vest and shorts, apparently underwear
- A large beaded flower necklace in yellow and black on a cord
- Open topped black boots
- A starched-collared men's military uniform
- Platform heeled black leather fringe boots
- A jacket with a high 'chinese-style' collar and sleeves
- Sturdy yellow socks
- Black and yellow leather strips for arm wraps
- Utility Belt

Although its face is porcelain, Its body is just made of cloth, unremarkable, though it seems kind of...lumpy.

There is no way out except the way you came.

You drop down through the broken mirror on the floor into the dark space below. It's not too long a drop, but you squelch as you land.

It's mud -- the floor beneath you, the walls, even the ceiling -- though perhaps you can't really call it floor or walls or ceiling. It's a tunnel, more than anything, through the ground, soft and squishy. If you stay in any one spot for too long you can feel yourself start to sink into the mud, but so long as you keep your feet moving, you're all right.

It's cool, at least, and it smells like fresh earth -- which is good or not depending on your tastes. The mud forms a winding passage leading off in two opposite directions, left and right (more or less; it's hard to tell in this twisting darkness), and of course you can exit by the hole you came in by. A faint glow comes from both directions, as if it's lit up further in.

Of course, walking is a bit of a challenge in this mud, but not so bad if you move carefully.

The muddy path continues for a while, and slowly the source of light is revealed -- glowing flowers emerging from the mud, soft-petaled and pale lotuses emanating their own light. They reach inward as if searching for something.

They continue on as the path widens; it does so in a bulge around some kind of scene. A young boy, who looks very much like Alma, is clawing his way down this path. On his back is an unconscious pretty boy covered in bandages, but with pale skin showing here and there, and black hair. His bandages are clean and showing no sign of injury -- Alma, however, is covered in wounds, from arrows sticking out of him to injuries all over his arms and legs as if he has clawed his way out of some kind of restraints. He seems on his last legs.

"I'll save you, Yuu. We finally... became friends..."

Just after he says that, more arrows seem to fly out of the muddy walls -- not the spots with the lotuses, but other places -- and sink into him. They seem to miss the young Kanda entirely.

Beyond them, the path splits into two, one twisting further upward, the other twisting further downward.

The light grows brighter as you take the path that twists upward. It's a gentle incline, and the mud dries out some as you go, making it an easier, and smoother walk. It does grow narrower, though, until it reaches a dead end, and it seems like you'd have to turn back --

But one part of the tunnel is extra dry, and cracked, and you hear the sound of scraping on the other side of it.

You take the path that slopes somewhat downward. It's only a mild slope, but the mud gets softer as you go, and it's easier to slip and fall. Likewise, the mud itself starts to move the further down you go, carrying you with it as it drifts very slowly downward. You can still move back the way you came, but it's likely to be a gross, slippery experience.

It flattens out into a wide section of tunnel which is just... well, it looks like a flat plane of mud. But as the first person who steps out into it will discover, under the mud is a variety of holes that go down indefinitely, also filled with mud. You won't drown, of course, it's not sucking you down, but whatever unlucky person just steps out into it will now be swimming in mud.

The holes aren't huge -- maybe three feet in diameter -- but the fact you can't tell where they are makes them a pretty effective pitfall.

...however, they seem not to be the only ones who fell in, as you can see a child's hand sticking out of a pool of mud and grasping around, as if trying to claw its way out but unable to rise.

There is no way out except the way you came.

The muddy path continues for a while, hardening into a caked mud tunnel as it goes, and slowly the source of light is revealed -- lanterns hanging from the walls, glowing softly in all the team colors of Aather.

The lanterns continue to hang everywhere, haphazard, as the path goes on. It rises and dips and grows steadily bumpier, as if the mud dried unevenly.

After one small drop it widens, and you find Alma, decked out in his hideously yellow Tiger's Eye spandex bodysuit, with an axe and shovel, cutting off bumps and trying to pat the loose dirt down to make even walls, floor. Sometimes, when his axe swings into a bump, blood pours out; he showers loose dirt on this until it's absorbed, and pats it down. Other times, there's nothing but dirt in there in the first place; other times, it seems to have been hiding items, which he hurriedly covers back up.

"Ah! Hi guys," he calls, as you approach. "Sorry about the mess! You can keep on going, I won't get in your way..."

The path does, indeed, carry on past where he is, splitting into two separate paths, one winding upward and one winding downward -- though the way the tunnels are shaped look man-made here, as if he had dug them out himself at some point.

The path that winds upwards is steep, but whoever has carved this out seems to be aware of the difficulty, and has carved in stairs in bad portions, handholds on the walls, and so on. The result is that even if your thighs are a bit sore by the end, it felt like someone consciously made the effort to make it a safe trip.

It breaks through the ground at the top and on the other side is a beautiful starry sky. A lovely forest surrounds the clearing the hole emerges into. It's dark, and you can't see everything terribly well, but it really is nice. There's the remains of a firepit, and -- well. That's about that.

That said, something seems off about how things look, but it's hard to narrow down with initial glance. It's beautiful, but something's not right.

The path winds gently downward and opens into a wide cave, totally strewn with color. It's like someone took paint buckets filled with all the colors of aather and splashed them everywhere.

It would look relatively like a normal bedroom if it wasn't for everything being colored so brightly -- again, not in a coordinated way, but as if every item in the bedroom was white at its core, and simply had buckets of paint tossed around everywhere. Yellow and red are the dominant colors, of course, surprising nobody, but there's a lot of pink, and some purple, and at least a little of every color (silver and black included).

Other than that, it's a relatively normal bedroom. There is a window onto nothing (this is underground, after all, so it just shows more dirt in the small places paint doesn't cover), also totally splashed with every color. A dresser. A bed -- a huge bed, a really really really fluffy, comfortable looking bed, a bed piled with red pillows, so many red pillows, a bed it looks like you could just sink into and is maybe much nicer than continuing to look around and explore and do anything at all? Like, I mean, between that bed and anything else, wow, that bed looks like a great option. It's kind of messy, though, and here and there it looks like there's bloodstains? Not big ones, just spatters. But the red pillows help tie that all together into a common theme maybe it's just decoration. Besides, could totes be paint. Either way, damn, nice bed. What a lucky person to have a bed like that.

Oh, yeah, there is also a small table with a wrapped present on it.

There is no way out except the way you came.

You go through the door, and find yourself standing outdoors. You're on watery mud flats, with lotus blossoms blooming all around, and the sky is a beautiful blue reflected in the watery patches, almost clear but for soft clouds drifting by.

Ahead of you stands a woman and a child -- the woman you have seen throughout, in a black gown and with her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and child is the more obviously 'younger' Alma -- holding hands. They smile, and speak.

"Ah, you made it?" "That's great!"

[eying the bowl for a moment before moving closer to take a look]

[That sinking feeling is really unpleasantly familiar from another heart game I was in a while back, taking a moment to recover from mud suffocation - aaaaand this isn't creepy at all]

[how about breathing first, breathing is good]

—they've gotta work on the entry with these things.

[getting up and immediately smacking his head on the ceiling]

—Ow!

[crouched, looking wary and tense]

. . . shit.

[It has PARTS written on its side. It's empty.]

[crouched and rubbing his head from where he smacked it on the ceiling :(]

Melody. You're here too?

[turning this way and that, watching his reflections move]

What is all this. . .?

[ Trisha's practically on his hands and knees here, being over six foot is a negative trait right now.

He's going to move towards that peephole to see if he can't look through it. ]

[I was just typing a reply to fret over you but this is good too]

Careful! Yes, I am, are you alright?

Alma Heart Game

STARTING ROOM

UP

UP - RIGHT

UP - Further Right (up)

UP - Further Right (down)

UP - LEFT

UP - Further Left (up)

UP - Further Left (down)

DOWN

DOWN - RIGHT

DOWN - Further Right (up)

DOWN - Further Right (down)

DOWN - LEFT

DOWN - Further Left (up)

DOWN - Further Left (down)

True Heart

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