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Description
I sit in a tree across the street, waiting for my original and the girl to return. I have business with him, and intend to take care of it now. I watch as they walk up to her front door, their conversation too quiet for me to overhear. Or, perhaps, he is shielding their voices? It would not be so difficult. For him.

When the conversation ends, she pats him on the arm and skips up to the entrance of her home. Before disappearing into the house, she calls after my archetype, "Try and spot me tomorrow before I spot you!"

He walks on silently toward his home, and I follow him. I have only a short wait before he will reach my trap, and I will attack. With this, his soul will be laid to ruin, and my own will fill the void left in his body. I will have my own body.

But my trap is avoided when he turns aside into the first alleyway. He must have noticed me, I think. Well, let's see what he has planned. I round the corner, expecting him to be facing me, only to find something much different.

His back to me, the source for my being leans heavily against the brick wall. This in itself is disturbing to me. Long has it been since I--we, when we were one--have been so reduced. Independence is what allows me--him--to be what he is. Self-sufficiency is everything, and yet here he leans. The pool of blood, vomited from his lungs terrifies me. I--we--no, he has fought gods and spirits without being so reduced. What is it that I have missed while I prepared for you?

He looks so near death to me that I miss my step. The quiet scrape of rubber over pavement is enough to get his attention. Immediately, the wheezing gasp vanishes and the mask closes over him, implacable once more as he quickly turns.

My reflexes save me, as I vanish back around the corner, and hang on the wall ten feet above him.

"Who is there?" he calls. I am tempted to answer, but do not. I could destroy him without any effort right now, I think. But something else seeps into my thoughts. Pity. In me? Never. But there it stands, facing me angrily. This is the girl's doing, I think. I cannot stay in this host too long, it will destroy me. And yet, I can not bring myself to attack him now.

I wrestle with myself for a moment longer, then look around the corner. He is gone, and my renewed resolve is wasted. I realize it would be of no use to give chase. He would not walk if he believes himself being pursued. He is home already.

Cursing, I retreat to my host's room. I lay frustrated in her bed, then release my hold on her body. Quickly it returns to its native form, and I find myself musing darkly, surrounded by the dark dreams of this girl.

Description
I sit in a tree across the street, waiting for my original and the girl to return. I have business with him, and intend to take care of it now. I watch as they walk up to her front door, their conversation too quiet for me to overhear. Or, perhaps, he is shielding their voices? It would not be so difficult. For him.

When the conversation ends, she pats him on the arm and skips up to the entrance of her home. Before disappearing into the house, she calls after my archetype, "Try and spot me tomorrow before I spot you!"

He walks on silently toward his home, and I follow him. I have only a short wait before he will reach my trap, and I will attack. With this, his soul will be laid to ruin, and my own will fill the void left in his body. I will have my own body.

But my trap is avoided when he turns aside into the first alleyway. He must have noticed me, I think. Well, let's see what he has planned. I round the corner, expecting him to be facing me, only to find something much different.

His back to me, the source for my being leans heavily against the brick wall. This in itself is disturbing to me. Long has it been since I--we, when we were one--have been so reduced. Independence is what allows me--him--to be what he is. Self-sufficiency is everything, and yet here he leans. The pool of blood, vomited from his lungs terrifies me. I--we--no, he has fought gods and spirits without being so reduced. What is it that I have missed while I prepared for you?

He looks so near death to me that I miss my step. The quiet scrape of rubber over pavement is enough to get his attention. Immediately, the wheezing gasp vanishes and the mask closes over him, implacable once more as he quickly turns.

My reflexes save me, as I vanish back around the corner, and hang on the wall ten feet above him.

"Who is there?" he calls. I am tempted to answer, but do not. I could destroy him without any effort right now, I think. But something else seeps into my thoughts. Pity. In me? Never. But there it stands, facing me angrily. This is the girl's doing, I think. I cannot stay in this host too long, it will destroy me. And yet, I can not bring myself to attack him now.

I wrestle with myself for a moment longer, then look around the corner. He is gone, and my renewed resolve is wasted. I realize it would be of no use to give chase. He would not walk if he believes himself being pursued. He is home already.

Cursing, I retreat to my host's room. I lay frustrated in her bed, then release my hold on her body. Quickly it returns to its native form, and I find myself musing darkly, surrounded by the dark dreams of this girl.