dualislogs | ever since you’ve been my ace of hearts -

WHO: Open to all Dualizens
WHAT: A heart-to-heart with the Heart
WHERE: A run-down warehouse on the outskirts of town.
WHEN: Sept. 21-22
WARNINGS: Please use these in comment subject lines if applicable!

Random text messages happen sometimes, though maybe not as often in Dualis as where you’re from. But there’s one today, and this one comes to your inbox from the number 432-78, which is definitely not a standard phone number. If you open it, there’s an image file, one you likely recognize - an anatomical heart. You’ll need to zoom in on the image a bit, because there’s a short message written along one of the veins, and it’s very small: LET’S TALK.

Below the image is a shortlink, and if you click it, you’ll be taken to a page that is blank except for one of those “Prove you’re not a robot!” messages with a box to check. Once checked, a series of six images appears - five are cartoon hearts, and the sixth is the same anatomical heart illustration that led you to this page. The instructions to pass through this virtual gate are to “Click on the Heart,” and choosing any image except the anatomical illustration redirects to an error message that bricks your phone until you perform a hard reboot.

Choosing the correct image takes you to a page of strange clusters of colored dots. If you look closely (and aren’t color blind), you’ll be able to read the real message: TOMORROW, AT SUNSET and a set of coordinates. A blinking banner scrolls along the top of the page and warns THIS MESSAGE WILL SELF-DESTRUCT IN 10 MINUTES, and the 10 counts down after one minute to 9, then 8, and so on. It’s probably a good idea to write this information down somewhere else!

The inbox message also deletes itself 10 minutes after it’s been opened. All unopened messages are auto-erased 12 hours after the original sent timestamp.

If you happen to be interested in following this rabbit down the rabbit hole, plug in those coordinates on your phone’s Dualis GPS app, and you’ll be directed to a run-down, empty warehouse on the outskirts of town. Be sure to take the time estimate to get there into consideration!

The warehouse is mostly dark inside, lit only by sparse flickering overhead lights; it’s dusty, empty except for the people gathered. When the sunlight outside has all but disappeared behind the horizon, a burst of loud electrical humming echoes through the warehouse, and the lights shut off. All electronic devices inside the perimeter of the warehouse have also been disabled, albeit temporarily.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh someone noticed the cape and cowl, a head of silver hair tipped up seeing the outline at the ceiling, the mask doesn't hide the lower half of his face, all he does is give half a smirk before continuing for a moment to stand next to the others, he was one of the last to step forward, lifting a hand up to motion the cowled woman down.

"If you came to speak. Come speak." He had no idea it was anyone he might know, but the blond hair reminded him of a close shade the same slipping through a window in a far to hot house. He didn't have time for fond memories though, the revolution would not be televised.

She looks back at the smirk, her own expression blank. She isn't up here to be invisible, after all. She's up here for the height advantage. That voice makes her frown, though. There's something about it that pulls urgently at her memory and actually has her teetering on the edge of the support beam, halfway to jumping down.

"I didn't," she answers shortly, leaning to try and get a closer look at that face.

It was only as she seemed to lean that he stepped backwards into the shadow a bit, the half mask didn't hide him as well as his old ones did, but as he stepped back a bit of light seemed to make his silver hair shine a moment before he was encased in the dark again.

"Then why have you come? Surely you have a reason. Are you here to render air to our just cause?"

That voice. She knows that voice. But how can that be possible?

"I came to listen," she explains distractedly. "Given the theatrics I almost feel like I should've paid for a ticket." There's irony in that considering her own outfit, but theatrics play an important role in this sort of business anyway.

"Vergil?" she finally asks, and uses her grapnel gun to rapel safely to ground level. From this angle it's harder for him to hide that white (silver sounds too cool for him) head of hair.

He was about to respond to the rest, when she spoke his name, the blue eyes widening from behind the mask, as he started to step forward but stopped, tugging his mask off, and yep. One moody demon actually smiled.

"I thought I recognized that hair, St.... but maybe not say my name, and I wont say yours. I'm kind of risking my life to be here." Some of them were in very real danger helping the heart, but Vergil was always dramatic. "Is Kat with you?" a hopefulness in his tone.

Steph grins. It's good to see him alive, everything else aside.

"No, she disappeared about a month after you did. And that was more than four years ago now, for me." She shrugs helplessly, claiming no understanding of anything that's happened to her in that time.

"Let me guess, the candles and outfits were your idea? Oh god, you probably did the logo too. You are such a drama queen."

"...It's only been 9 months for me, but a horrible time for me." He admitted. "That place was kinder than this." and he had hated the Village, more so after finding out they were all clones there.

"The Masks were me and Nick, everything thing else was Mello. If you think I am dramatic... go meet Mello." He mused as he leaned in almost to close and spoke low. "Do me one favor, and never approach the Malakye family. For both your good and my own... They already suspect me this is all I ask."

She does her best to contain her amusement, especially with regard to this particular brand of theatrics. There are bigger forces at play here, however juvenile certain aspects may be.

"Of course," she assures him in that same low tone. "You'll have as much help as we can give." She glances in Tim's direction, though there are enough people around that she might be looking at anyone. She can only speak for herself and those with whom she's close enough to be owed some alleigance.

"Just do me a favor and don't blow up any more civilians, okay? You guys half-killed some of us with that stunt, and I already want to punch that Mello kid in the face. I can't be helping a bunch of terrorists."

Vergil loved his theatrics. They were part of the man behind the mask after all.

He wasn't dumb, he figured when she looked off it must be the guy she was scared of before, maybe they were getting along now. He liked to think Steph and Kat had both found happiness. That wasn't something he held in the cards for himself. He expected to die young and for a cause.

"Okay, that wasn't....nevermind, yeah, we wont blow up anyone living." That was the best he could offer. "Mello's dramatic and likes his pyrotechnics, I do apologize for anyone caught in the blast that were not the set targets."

He was mostly right on one count at least. Steph wouldn't say she was the happiest person ever, but she'd come a long way since she last saw Vergil.

She scratched at a scab on her arm, remembering the day of the bombing and how many tiny bits of metal she'd had to dig out of herself. Her smile is wry.

"Apology accepted. You got any specifics for me while I'm here, or do I have to wait until you're finished with auditions?"

ever since you’ve been my ace of hearts -

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