Dakota Rhett
November 29th? - Entertainment Hall
Dakota quickly turned his head upon feeling a hand grip his shoulder: He didn't even know the guy's name, just remembering him as the individual he tried to comfort back at the docks. He let out a sigh, perhaps not of relief, but he was definitely glad to have people at his side while this was going on. It didn't feel real, having someone that seemed to be another him throwing insults at insecurities, and emotions the boy preferred to keep to himself. He fell quiet, allowing for Nick to take the stage, though the results seemed less than efficient.
And this was proven by a scoff in response to Nick's words, this 'Mirror' Dakota seeming to have no regard for Nick's self-help booklet advice. "What the hell would you know about us? You can try and fix things with words all you like, but our troubles are a bit more physical than that--"
If Nick had succeeded at anything, it was taking attention off of Vincent's large lingering form. Seeming to not expect such a retort, even, perhaps as a perception of what he considered to be his 'weaker self' being reflected on the two men who joined him here. Vincent got a hit in; Smashing a fist right into the 'Mirror' Dakota's pretty boy face. The pain caused an audible reaction, and he reeled backwards, glasses falling off as he almost tripped over his own feet. "
You--" The mic stand fell to the ground, mic smacking against the stage and causing a
terrible sound as he gripped his own face, shaking as blood leaked in-between his fingers.
Dakota, agitated from what his other self had been trying to say, was spurred to take an offense. He forced himself forward, his small legs carrying him as fast as they could to pick up that fallen mic stand. He picked it up in both hands, and while his other self was still reeling from what had happened, he took a two-handed swing to try and add to Vincent's damage: To shut this imposter up, keep him from saying anything else!
This sudden outburst of violence wouldn't end well.
The stand stopped, a single hand catching it without much issue. Dakota's own eyes widened, attempting to force it down with no success. Over and over, it was clear he physically tried his hardest, but his other self wasn't having it.
"Got to admit," 'Mirror' Dakota growled through the palm still covering his face, yellow eyes visible in-between his fingers. "I didn't expect to see a walking self-help book and some big ass brute take action like that. You really got them wrapped around your little finger, don't you?"
Dakota's heart pounded with fear, and confusion. "Wh-What--"
Without a chance to respond further, 'Mirror' Dakota's second hand left his face, large gashes visible in his features, and to Dakota, momentarily they were unexplainable. But as he felt something much more forceful than he thought a human hand could be gripped around his throat a split second after hearing the sound of chains snapping, a panicked look down yielded him view of black feathers rather than flesh, and the hand supposedly around his throat was a four-pronged yellow foot, similar to that of an eagle's, with dangerously sharp talons close to digging into his skin.
"--The
fuck?!"" Dakota managed to finish, but soon he was at the point of begging for air. Dropping the mic stand and flailing as he was lifted up seemingly with ease.
"Like I was trying to say!" 'Mirror' Dakota spoke, the partial-monstrosity looking over at Vincent and Nick with a glare, no blood seeming to leak from the gashes his talons left on his own face. "You don't know anything about us! Or why I hate this pathetic little shit!" He gripped Dakota tighter, but relented after a moment to at least let him breathe enough to keep conscious. "We were a singer! A damn good one, getting popular! Then our lung decided to give out on us!" He swung Dakota slightly as he continued, gestures becoming much more violent with a ragdoll in his hand. "Doc said we'd never hit those notes again, if we wanted to live long! Band abandoned us, couldn't keep our online fanbase either, because HE was too afraid of gettin' hurt!"
Another squeeze yielded a scream, or what Dakota could manage with the air he was provided.
"We were stars, how such a thing even happened wasn't understandable. We kept ourselves in good health, it was a damning by fate to take our dream away!" His free hand scratched at his face, skin parting more to reveal nothing other than a blackness beneath. Almost as if the blood from before was an act, something to play along with Vincent's heroics. "He's just the sniveling part of us! Too cowardly to push himself to live in the moment, instead prolonging his life and sitting around! We accomplish nothing, and have the drive to accomplish nothing! So why bother? Who cares if we die, just to raise a few more high and influential notes? It's all we have!"
He pulled Dakota closer, clearly talking to him directly. "Instead, you just put on a nice face. You 'help' people. hoping they'll consider you worthwhile enough to keep around! Unlike those 'friends' of ours that ran as soon as we appeared useless!" Gritted teeth, each seeming ready to shatter from the force as he glared at what he considered to be his 'lesser self'. "You
hate the people that abandoned us. You just want to gather people around you for your own personal use, to make yourself feel relevant since you lock our final moments of stardom away! These two are just pieces of your shitty little game, just like that worker in the cafeteria! Just trying to get on good sides, despite not having an actual redeeming quality to save your damn life!"
The rant left him breathing heavily, though not expecting much out of the lesser self he was ready to croak. However, his expression shifted lightly from anger to surprise as Dakota tried to kick his foot forward, tip of his shoe barely connecting with his other self's chest.
"Shut..." He paused, trying to draw in more air. "
Up."
The grip slightly loosened, Dakota seeming to be toyed with to give his chance at saying something. Feeling degraded, terrified, and hurt in a literal sense, he wasn't sure of exactly what he could do except deny. "I'm not like that. Yeah, my chance at being a famous singer like I wanted washed down the drain, but I'm just trying to live. These people, I'm not trying to use them!"
"Bullshit!" His 'Mirror' self objected. "Only reason you helped that brick shithouse over there was because you figured his muscle would perhaps save your life at some point, or his injured ass would make good bait to keep running."
He was met with a more forceful kick, causing him anger more than anything else.
"Everyone deserves a chance." Dakota reasoned, feeling the talons digging into his skin again already. "You're something beyond a nightmare. Whatever this hell is, it's just designed to try and torture us! You think we're the same?!" He spat at his supposed 'other self', refusing to hear anymore. "You aren't me! You're just some freakish monster, throwing a tantrum using my face!"
Those words were enough for Dakota to be thrown, hitting the stage hard and rolling back towards Vincent's feet. He gasped for air, taking in the freedom despite the minor cuts along his neck, with some included bruising starting to become apparent. His supposed other self simply began to laugh, seeming to be about as happy as he'd been when they first arrived. One beastial arm was raised along with his human one, cackling with satisfaction for a moment, before halting with a slight huff.
"You're right! I'm
not you!"
The skin on his other self bubbled, groans of pain loud and disturbing as he fell down onto all-fours. Eagle-foot cracking the stage, as he cried out a final, long-lasting note as the humanoid portions began to tear apart. Before the eyes of the three men, his other frontal limb was clearly transforming to be similar to the first, while his legs took a turn into becoming more fur-covered, hairy. Lion legs, if one cared to actually identify them. The lights of the stage began to brighten, as his head twisted, starting to foam as the vocal note carried on, only to become an ear-piercing screech as what remained of his human head split apart, the light momentarily blinding everyone involved.
By the time it dimmed, what stood before them was a beast. It easily toppled two Vincent's stacked atop each-other when it came to height, any taller and it might've given three a run for their money. Aside from it's black-haired hindlegs, the rest of it's body, including tail, consisted of feathers. Black in color as well, aside from the head, being a pure white, only dirtied by blood below its own eyes, which were wrapped and seemingly blinded the creature. The shackles that it broke before were still around it's front legs, chains dragging against the stage now, though still broken.
Dakota slowly pulled himself to a sitting position, eyes widening at the sight in front of him. A beast more terrifying than the birds they'd seen back with Pondwater, for sure. And Dakota wasn't sure what the hell they'd do now.
"I'm superior in every way! A king! An icon! A pathetic piece of trash like you has no need to be on my stage any longer. And I'll remove you personally!"It let out another screech, wings spreading and lashing out a powerful gust that'd push against those before it, though they could keep their footing. Dakota, feeling hopeless but not wanting to surrender after what he'd just went through, noticed that during it's growth, that it'd knocked that mic stand close to him again. He wasn't sure what he could do with it... But he grabbed it regardless, and pulled himself to his feet. A stomp from the beast nearly made him fall back down, but an observant eye could've seen the lights above shake violently after the move. The area was quite enclosed, and with it's size the beast could not move very easily, especially as it liked to flap those large wings to try and knock them down.
"You see those lights shaking...?" He muttered to the two people that stuck up for him, that tried to defend him. "They're pretty big. IIf we tick him off, he might knock those down." A look towards the exits, would show those shadowy walls still blocking the way, but they seemed to recoil to just the exits. Meaning one could run out into the seats if they wished to do so. Anyone that cared to jump off the stage and look behind it could find instruments, an assortment that had been playing during the performance. Potential weapons, depending on how an individual wished to use them. But with the sheer size of the monster, one could be concerned for it tearing into the back of the stage with it's talons to rip an individual to shreds.
With seemingly no way out, and the idea of striking the beast directly feeling like suicide considering it's mixture of powerful beasts, making it a victim of it's own anger seemed like the best bet. But how they'd go about it, Dakota wasn't sure. All he knew was that he wouldn't back down: Not with Nick and Vincent at risk. Deep inside, maybe some of what this monster said was right. But he didn't...
just use people to make himself feel better, or look better. He wanted the best for them, and this being of anger didn't see that.
One way or another, Dakota was determined to provide some enlightenment to this beast.
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