Inbox & In-person meetups

[dollmaxing]

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Hiiii! You've reached Ichinose Kuon, head of AI research and development. Leave a message and I'll get back to you!

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[counterfeitphantom]

"Wha-" she blinks in confusion. "Then why the hell can't I read his presence? He has to be somewhere in the palace though...wherever that is."

There was a pause. Clacking of keys following right in the silence.

"His systems detect recently injected cognitive stabilizers...that's not good," Akane mutters- masking the anxiety in her words. "Okay. Ichinose. What did you do?"

[dollmaxing]

"Gave him a light shove against his arm and told him to scoot so I could get a spoon," she answered, crossing her arms and leaning against the table. "He panicked and grabbed me by the arm, lifted me off the ground. Takuto's shadows intervened to pull me out of his grip since he wasn't responding to me telling him to put me down."

[counterfeitphantom]

Her insides become cold at what she hears, pausing as she rings up Zenkichi on their private port again,

"...did he not take his stimulants earlier?" Is the first thing Akane mutters into the call.

She clears his throat, light glitching slipping into her usual voice as she sighs. "Are all your limbs intact? Do you need healing?"

[dollmaxing]

"You don't care."

The words had left her mouth before she could stop herself. There was a cold, hollow feeling in her chest - I didn't need a reminder that it could have gone so much worse. The strain in her shoulder socket and the bruising around her wrist were sufficient.

"...If I were that injured, I wouldn't be able to talk this calmly."

1/2

[counterfeitphantom]

You don't care.

Okay, what the hell was that for? "Did you just seriously say that?!" She says all too quickly, raising her voice before blinking in shock behind the receiver. She doesn't care. Akane tries to rein herself in by taking deep breaths because unlike all these other adults, she needs Kuon's collaboration.

"So you are injured. Thank you for the extra mental puzzle," she says, rolling her eyes. "Listen- the only reason I don't care is because guess what? I am not even supposed to care in my nature. So quit the accusatory tone and just come downstairs if you want me to use my diarama on you. I don't have much heals on me-"

[takutomaruki]

The cognition next to her twitched all too suddenly. The creature stilled — or rather, paused mid-glitch. Limbs hanging in ragdoll collapse jerked upright, marionette strings snapping back into tensionless control. Then, slowly, unnaturally, it tilted.

Its head moved in a stuttered arc, not turning — but shifting, like a corrupted file trying to remember how humans gesture curiosity. The click-clack of its many fingers quieted, curling inwards like petals drawn in by light.

And then — its entire upper frame lowered toward her, not in a bow, but in reverence. Joints unwound with soft, wet pops as tentacles emerged where arms once were, slipping from flesh like silk dragged through teeth. They shimmered with a low hum, twitching in slow, hypnotic ripples.

A tendril traced the air before her chest, trembling with restraint. It didn't touch — not yet. Instead, it circled her like an orbit, a spiral of pulsating green light. Another curled near her bruised wrist, tip flickering like a glitching cursor trying to highlight pain.

A show of concern. Or something that thinks it understands the concept.

One appendage — the thinnest — rose with a balletic, serpentine grace. It hovered inches from her face, trembling, pulsing like a vein. With sudden, insectoid stillness, it froze in place and bloomed — the neon-green split open like a sea anemone, revealing rows of soft, bioluminescent spines vibrating in a calming hum.

An offering.

Meanwhile, Akane's voice boomed from her phone. "If it's Wolf's fault, he will apologize. Not me. I am not here to clean the mess of literal adults!"

[dollmaxing]

"Ah--"

Kuon had startled at the jerky, abrupt movements from the shadow at first. But after a couple of seconds of surprise, she calmed, recognizing the strangeness of Azathoth - right. This was his Palace... he would always be able to reach out.

"No need. I'll be just fine, Akane," she said, voice leveled back out after the startled gasp that must've come across before. Slowly, Kuon lifted her bruised wrist, caressing the the tendril in front of her face and tracing to where the spines were blooming out with her fingertips. Appreciatively - at least, this was probably how one touched to show appreciation to something eldritch like this. "Your father didn't apologize for the first encounter, I doubt he'll apologize for this one."

[takutomaruki]

“Woah woah woah — what was that just now?!” Akane’s tone cracked with disbelief. “I could probably, literally give you reasons why he’s not going to apologize for your first meeting, but you are being dodgy as hell, Ichinose. Seriously, you—”

She stopped mid-rant.

A beat of silence.

“...Huh,” Akane muttered, voice lower now. “Well...okay, whatever. I’ll meet you in the IT lab in ten minutes.”

The call cut off with a soft click.

The room shifted in atmosphere the moment her voice disappeared — quieter, somehow. From one corner of the chamber, a PA speaker crackled faintly to life. It was mounted on a floating, gilded tentacle near the ceiling, its eye blinking with artificial light.

"I messaged her that Zenkichi-san is in a break room, so they will leave us alone for now."

The voice that followed was unmistakably Maruki’s — calm, warm, measured — but there was something tight in it. A pause. A subtle hitch before the next words slipped through, seeing and feeling through Azathoth’s many eyes what Kuon had done.

She touched it. And it responded like a cat curling into a sunbeam.

Azathoth let out no sound, but its entire form shifted — massive limbs coiling inward, folding into themselves with a content, organic shudder. One tendril curled gently around Kuon’s wrist, cradling it like an offering, like a limb returned to a shrine. From the wound in its spine-like appendage, a smaller feeler emerged — glowing bright, the tip sharp like a glass needle glinting under fluorescence.

Maruki’s voice returned, softer now.

“Azathoth.. can heal people, you know. It regenerated my arm once. It will only leave a little smudge of green after.”
“It can sense when someone is in pain. So relax. You've earned it, Kuon.”

The spined tendril around her wrist constricted ever so slightly — not threatening, just holding. The fine-tipped feeler hovered, paused, then made its choice.

With the precision of a surgeon, it pricked the edge of her bruising.

Just a pin of pain — sharp, but fleeting. The kind of discomfort that came with resetting a bone, or pressure applied to swelling. Not cruel. Not gentle. Just exact.

A glow spread across her skin, subtle at first, then overtaking the bruising in faint ripples of light. The soreness ebbed away, replaced with a sense of numb, humming warmth — like pins and needles dissolving into calm.

Leaving behind the slightest green smudge on her skin.

Azathoth’s core pulsed in answer, almost proudly, like a beast pleased with its offering.

"How are you feeling?"

[dollmaxing]

Sharp, worse than a shot, but so quick that Kuon only had an involuntary flinch from it even after relaxing her arm completely for Azathoth's gentle grip. She felt it flood through her veins, going to each fingertip and up her arm, the feeling washing over like a small wave. It was even helping wane the adrenaline spike.

"...Much better. Thank you, Takuto. Azathoth," she sighed in appreciation. "And of course, thank you for intervening."

1/2

[takutomaruki]

Azathoth shifted in response — slowly, silkily. Its massive limbs undulated with the same rhythm as a cat arching beneath praise, vertebrae cracking outward as though it was unfolding from within itself. One tendril — the same that had healed her — coiled closer, touching and curling like a snake. A half-circle, protective and poised. Its spines retracted, glowing still. Its eye-like core between its human-like digits pulsed in a steady rhythm, brighter now, as though basking in her gratitude.

That alone was enough.

Takuto’s voice returned — warm, but quieter now, as though humbled by what he had just seen.

“…There’s no need to thank me,” he said gently. “I’m here for you, Kuon. That’s all.”

He hesitated for a moment before continuing, words chosen with more care this time.

“I’ll have coffee arranged for you and Zenkichi-san,” he added. “But—probably not a good idea for you two to be in the same room. At least... not right now. Swear I had a heart attack when I saw both of you enter that elevator.”

[takutomaruki]

“...Should I be in the IT room, too?” he asked, almost cautiously. “If things are going to be like this, I mean.”

[dollmaxing]

"I didn't think he would actually follow me into the elevator, either. Since I'm supposedly so dangerous."

But he had, and she should've realized how much he was barely containing his rage from the way the door's metal had warped under his grip. Should've sensed the danger immediately and left. But he hadn't done anything after that, he'd just... bantered, normal, even let her scold him over making a mess of the kitchen.

She thought maybe she was overreacting, being hyperbolic like the two kept insisting she was. Figured no one would react to a simple little push to the arm, no firmer than one would give a child.

But her distrust and assumptions were proven right. Why did she ever doubt herself?

"I think for today, at least. I don't think he can behave himself."

[takutomaruki]

Takuto had been watching through the eyes of the cognitions when he was pulling both Kuon and Zenkichi away from each other. That glimpse of raw panic flickering when Wolf's rage had shown, causing his mask to glitch out of existence, was something to be noted.

"I think he's just...well, he's paranoid with you. Not your fault, of course, but I have met jumpy individuals here," he sighs. "Then the things I have heard from his future and then his daughter..."

Doc.

Maruki clicked his tongue. "All the more reason for me to be there then. You and the Hasegawas have a temporary truce, which is why I don't want it to get worse for you." His voice shuffled in the background with the slightest sigh of a coat being worn.

"I will get your coffee for now. The usual?"

[dollmaxing]

"I'll take extra sugar and an extra expresso shot, if you'll indulge me," Kuon sighed, slowly settling into relief and looking at her wrist, flexing her fingers. It felt much, much better... there was a little pinprick of green, but it was far less noticeable than the bruise had been. As she stood, she found the pain from a slightly dislocated shoulder had been soothed, too.

While getting more injured was not appealing given how much things were still painful, she did feel a bit more confident that any injury wouldn't be terribly permanent. She really did find the right man to have in her corner...

"Alright. I think the adrenaline's worn off enough, I'll make my way back. I'll have a clear head by the time I get there."

[takutomaruki]

As Kuon shifted, testing the motion of her fingers, Azathoth moved again.

Its limbs didn't twitch this time — they flowed. One long tendril unfurled with a deliberate slowness, arching toward her like an eclipse reaching down to touch the earth. It didn’t speak, didn’t pulse with power, didn’t demand attention. It merely hovered near — the way a hand might reach to catch someone not for falling, but for reassurance. For presence.

A wordless gesture: You are not alone.

The tendril curved toward her back, just brushing close enough for its warmth to be felt — not touching, just letting its presence say what it couldn't. That it saw her pain. That it knew the toll.

And that it approved of her being grateful. To be relied on. To be praised.

From the overhead speaker, Takuto’s voice returned, softened now by a gentle smile Kuon couldn’t see — but could feel in the timbre of his tone.

"You don’t have to pretend in front of the Hasegawas," he said. "They weren’t exactly polite to us. And I believe in you, Kuon."

There was a quiet rhythm of footsteps — not echoing, but existing, like he was walking somewhere just outside her view. Adjusting his outfit, maybe?

Then, a low click. The mic opened again.

"I’ll meet you there," Takuto said simply. "See you."

Azathoth lingered for a moment longer — tendrils rising slightly as if debating whether to remain. But something in the doctor's voice, that parting note of trust, seemed to satisfy it.

With one last ripple — almost like the slow exhale of a great creature settling — Azathoth retracted its limbs, folding back into itself. One tendril curled last, hesitating before drawing away like a loyal hound called to heel.