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A distended techno-static hiss leaked from the broken stereoscopic speakers adorning the four corners of the room and filtered out the white noise of existence, replacing it with a synthetic audioform chaos. For hours it had flooded the small sensory deprivation tank in which Elexial meditated. On the surface of each wall, a single strobe light flickered on and off at completely random intervals and sequences turning the room from black to white and black again. The room was filled with a lukewarm smoke from the incense he was burning within an urn before him, mixed with drops of his own prescious blood. The smell was of jasmine, but the blood twisted it into something else entirely. He had taken several hits of LSD before entering this chamber as well, further unraveling the boundries of his psyche so that he might dissolve himself into the complete chaos of utter psychosis.

This was Jinpachi Elexial's self-imposed training as a follower of Amatsu Mikaboshi. Though he was not of Japanese origin, but rather born in the Western lands of Russia, he was half-Japanese on his father's side. When his mother had passed away he had moved to Japan only to discover his father was a cruel man with a great deal of wealth that allowed him to abuse Elexial in whatever way he wished and rule every aspect of his life. That was why Elexial had felt forced to kill him one day as his father lay wasted in his own putrid stink and filth, framing one of his father's many enemies with great skill and cunning. That cunning had attracted the eye of one very clever woman who took Elexial with her to the Shrine of the August Star.

Since then, and for nearly eight years now, Elexial had trained himself under the woman's tutelage - a student of chaos and what she called "The Black Enlightenment". She was not an orthodox priestess, but none could argue with her insidious wisdom amongst those who called themselves her peers. Yet where many of the priests and priestesses of the shrine had many disciples, this woman had only one.

The mind of that student - warped and twisted beyond human recognition in his current transcendent state of "dark gnosis" - liquified and oozed out of the pores of Elexial's skin as he sweat and laughed with utter incomprehensible lunacy. His entire form jolted with every flash of the strobes, and his body writhed like the most corrupt essence of evil to have ever crawled out of the dankest, foulest pits of the deepest hells. His eyes were wide open, his pupils fully dialated, and both were jittering manically in their sockets. The static cracked suddenly as the tremor of the main gate bursting open surged through the shrine, and it were as if lightning had struck him dead. His upper-body flung forward like a corpse flayed against the floor while his legs remained in the lotus position.

His eyes were still wide open and staring insanely into the fog of smoke that filled the chamber. The strobes flashed, one after another in random sequence, and each flash sent a shiver of esctacy through his spine and nervous system. Every flicker a lash of the whip against his young mortal flesh - the flesh of his sundered psychadelic consciousness.

He reached for the remote control without looking at it. His sweaty hand closed around it and squeezed as if to break it. The drugs had begun to wear off now. His vision slowly returning to normal, he pressed the red button that shut off the speakers and the lights. Reaching for the black strip of cloth that he had been given by his mentor, adorned with a red kanji representing the word "universe" at each end, he bent his body up and heaved lewdly, vomiting on the carpet as his body struggled with massive immediate withdrawls. The amounts of acid Elexial typically used were enough to kill if one had not built up a tolerance of the substance from daily use in heavy doses over the years.

With the contents of his stomach emptied on the floor, Elexial rose to his feet - or tried to. He fell face-first into the wall of the chamber and slid down limply, laughing hysterically like some inhuman creature of the August Realm itself. Soon would be his promotion. Elexial felt it.

He laughed even louder and pulled himself to his feet once more. Inching his way towards the chamber door, he dragged his black headband with him languidly before pausing at the exit to lift it to his eyes. Wrapping it around them, he fastened it in a square knot behind his head to shut out his sight. His neurosis had grown so intense in the past few months - as his training had reached its final culmination - that his mistress and mentor had instructed him to wear his headband about his eyes, so that when his mind had truely awakened and he had become a priest, he might remove it and see the absolute madness of the ordinary world around him. Until then he was at all times to see only the void and reflect upon the transcendent chaos it represented.

With a loud metallic clank and rumble, he twisted the iron bars that revolved clock-wise and opened the air-tight hatch to the sensory deprivation tank. Outside within the dungeon hallways, he could hear the excited rumors spilling from the mouthes of fellow human students and priests. His mind painted the perfect picture for him by which to navigate his surroundings. It showed him their true natures - their true forms. He looked at a lesser student and smiled at it. He could feel her fear. Even his peers feared him. He drank its sweet intoxication like a fetid odor, letting his smile widen even more. He wondered if she too could see his true form. That horrific serrated grin he showed her now, his teeth a thousand fangs of poison, his breath the howl of a spirit that walks not wearing the shape of a man. A priestess approached him.

"So, after a week of isolation the best swordsman in the dojo awakens," the woman prodded, "That bears a new record for any student here. You should be proud, Silent Lotus. Proud, or utterly mad." She laughed arrogantly.

Elexial offered no reprise to her attempt to goad him.

"There is a visitor returned to our fold," She continued after a dry moment of consideration at the absence of his immediate reply, "You would be wise to be the first to greet him, as his rival."

Elexial's smile was eternal, but he hid it for a moment behind a neutral expression of neither satisfaction nor displeasure, and a slow solitary nod. He was not so arrogant as to ignore the return of someone of higher rank than he. It was...poor manners.

"Is it day? So be it. The anti-cycle of my momentary transcendence has passed, and I will greet this traveler. One of us you say?..." he hissed.

"Sato has returned," she replied.

The priestess frowned.

"You are less human everytime we cross, Silent Lotus. Perhaps you spent too long in the chamber of isolation," she remanded.

Elexial had already begun to walk away, however. He did not turn to answer her as he trudged up the slick stone stairwell to the surface level of the shrine where a lesser servitor waited with his belongings. He stood otherwise nude for a moment to allow it to dress him in his ritual black kendo robes and red scarf, his hands and arms held out to the side. When the servitor had finished attending to him, he took a moment to adjust the chiyaku scarf around his neck and reached for his obsidian katana and wakazashi. The pair were pre-symbolic of his life-long ambition towards ascension to the rank of a heretical samurai duelist - and his chosen lord was the Black Kami Amatsu Mikaboshi himself. He would train as long as it took to achieve his goal, and his mistress assured him that the time would soon come when he would be awarded with the station he deserved.

He lifted one foot and then the other as his socks and wooden sandals were applied to his feet and waited as the white bandages were wrapped around his fists and forearms to obscure the blasphemous kanji written with hot steel into his flesh that marked him as a student of the black enlightenment. When all was in its place, he slipped his weapons into his black sash and strode like nobility into the main courtyard to greet the returning champion of the shrine.

Hushed whispers broke out amongst the gathered crowd at the shattered gate, either about the return of Sato, or the subsequent revival of Jinpachi Elexial. Many, if not most, had assumed him dead.

Elexial approached Sato and bowed, offering Sato his left-hand in greeting.

"Long-time-no-see," Elexial chuckled at his own pun.

((Thanks. ^_^ - your posts are awesome too though. I love that everyone here has a distinct style of prose.))

Elexial wondered as he lofted a brow as Sai'gare's curious trepidations. Does this man think I am a true demon? Elexial could not help but let that grin of avarice and authentic pride (not the pride one draws from appraisal, but the pride one has in oneself through self-recognition and self-worth as only those who have earned the right to feel proud can have) slip through his calm and neutral demeanor. He applied that smile to a warmer greeting as he immediately cast off his previous personality for another one, shedding the persona of Sai'gare's rival just as easily as a snake sheds its skin. He slipped comfortably into a new personality, one with different feelings and different thoughts. One to be Sai'gare's companion.

...And he let that swarm of ravenous, formless other personas dwelling deep within the unshaped, mad hive of his honeycomb soul rip apart that-which-was "Elexial, Sai'gare's rival" like a cloud of hellish locusts plauges a farmer's harvest. He could almost shiver as he felt one part of his identity fall victim to these other demented aspects - to be raped and fed upon for sustenance should another need to be called forth from the storm. Elexial was the maker and destroyer of his own mind. He was not the mask. He was the masquarade.

"You have been away too long, Sato. They call me 'Silent Lotus' now. What a silly name, isn't it? They call me this because I rarely speak. Yet I think that you have a story to tell me, and I have stories to tell you. Shall we fetch ourselves food and relax within the temple?"

Elexial let his hands fall behind the small of his back and clasp each opposite elbow behind himself as he turned one shoulder away and waited for Sai'gare to accept his invitation, his unseeing face turned to watch him with unseeing eyes.

Elexial turned his head slowly, slower than would seem normal, letting silence punctuate the shifting of his gaze to face Yuuri. He let silence punctuate it for a moment more. Perhaps too long. Long enough that it was noticable. Long enough to make them want to know.

"Fear. Ever the existential temptation of the unchallenged mind. Like a game of chess before the first move is made, or in that moment when your opponent sees the trap you have laid for them and wonders if you see it to," Elexial wondered. "Do they see the trap? Do I? Is there a trap at all?"

"Let go of this addiction Elexial, it does not serve you now," the words of his mistress echoed in his mind suddenly, seeming to emminate from all around him.

His moment passed, broken like the instantaneous recovery of a shroomer from the meal of his own unconscious fantasies. Elexial nodded and offered her the same hideously...human smile he offered Sai'gare in greeting. His bound sight did not see her face or her flesh. Instead it saw her breath and saw the sounds her throat made when she swallowed. He saw her heart pumping necessary life-fluids through her body beneath her chest, and he saw the acustic dampening of fat provided by her breasts beneath her clothes. He saw the wind as it played childish games with her hair like little spiders on the web. He saw every exposing private little sound her body made to shame her that those blinded by sight cannot hear, and it painted the perfect demoralizing picture of her in his mind's eye.

And he saw himself. He saw the shell of his human form, though his soul was more a cacophany of silent blossoming lotus petals made of shreiking, rending metal, taking the distorted shape of a thing not meant to be envisioned by sane minds - a downright crusifixion of sanity and art. His mental self-image was that of a malformed insect like no other, blessed with capracious disstended limbs and a serrated grin of unhinged jaws. His half-humanoid mind-form mounted six mock-angelic leather wings covered in a thousand bleeding demon eye-stalks that turned every way to keep the lee of his octaine shadow. And all was dressed in burning, bent chrome that reflected the utter blackness of his thoughts back upon the world, so that should his skeletal self-imagined frame twist thus and offer a smile to Yuuri, it was not the woman who shuddered in utter revulsion. It was the world.

"And so the world will, when the August Star blesses me to die by the sword so that I may reincarnate into this form for which I am most well suited," he thought.

"Shall we then?" he asked of Sai'gare, having bowed without humility to Yuuri's moment of indignified authority.

How pleasant it was to have the two young men back amongst the others...

With another serene smile painting itself daintily on her aesthetic features, Yuuri followed silently after Sato, her floor length hair giving a delightful sweep about her ankles as she turned. Despite her lucid gaze, the light haired woman was actually quite deep within her own thoughts; idle as they were.

How different Lotus and Sato were...

No matter how many years the two aged, their core personalities continued to mirror one another. Even her own feelings and opinions, while outwardly pleasant, were drastically different when it came to the two men about her.

Because of their age, Lotus and herself had spent many years about each other. Strange, she noted, that neither of them had taken the time to grow close. Yuuri attributed this lack of familiarity to Lotus' teacher. Even for someone as insightful as she, Yuuri failed to understand the woman's methods at times. Just looking at Lotus and what he'd become was proof enough. He was no longer the young man Yuuri remembered; even moreso after his completed training. She knew not what Lotus had been put through, as she was not an apprentice of the same priestess as he, but it had apparently been drastic, not to mention grueling. Yuuri almost felt a twinge of compassion for the man known now only as Silent Lotus. One could almost say it was worry.

But that was absurd. Yuuri did not worry.

Now, Sato; he was something of both great amusement and sorrow for Yuuri. The younger man never failed to prortray himself as something entirely out of place amongst the chaos of the shrine. The boy was cheery, bright, enthused; a feature many of the students lacked considerably. However, it was because of this exuberant personality that Yuuri felt sorely pained. She had noticed during her first few weeks at the temple as a child that many, if not all, of the members wore masks. Not physical masks, mind you. No...these masks were near everything but physical; they were psychological, historical, personal. They were masks that hid the true inhibitor of the body it found itself contained in. Even she herself was prone to this defense mechanism. Sai'gare? His mask was his bubbily personality. It made Yuuri near weep to think it was merely artifical merriment. A small part of her longed to be as Sato showed himself to be; happy, content, without care or worry.

She wondered often if he, too, longed to be what he portrayed...

It was the uneven steps upon the worn wooden planks of the floor that first alerted Yuuri to Lotus's struggles. The long haired woman turned her head ever so slightly as she walked to observe the man's awkward steps.

It was almost endearing how he fought to conceal his aches and salvage his pride. But just how long had he been in this state? Surely he hadn't been like this the entire week, without food or drink...? Yuuri didn't think she'd ever be able to understand his mistress' drastic methods of training.

Of course, there were many things within the temple that many people failed to comprehend...

Without a word as to explain her actions, Yuuri silently fell into step with the weathered man. A robed arm gingerly made it's way around his waist as it's mate reached over to pull his arm across her shoulders.

It wasn't an action meant to demean him in any way. It was, rather, an extension of compassion and understanding. A simple gesture of aide in his moment of vulnerability. After all, it was downright unhealthy to be walking in the condition Lotus had forced himself into; training and pride aside. Yuuri wasn't going to tolerate him passing out before he had a chance to properly digest any food...

Speaking of which.

"I do believe you're both in time for the last half of luncheon, if you'd like." Yuuri mused aloud in offering.

They were both utterly disgusting to Elexial. And then this woman's kindness. She dare place an arm about him as if he were some old man and she his wife.

"Kill her. Kill her now - the carteroid artery," the voices urged.

Elexial glanced at her and smiled, accepting her help with gratitude as the manifest part of his mind raped the unmanifest personas into submission and gleaned on their impulsive wickedness.

"You are kind to me, Yuuri. It is a shame I have been so neglecting of your attentions for my mistress's rituals," he whispered.

His hidden eyes listened to the sound of her female body moving within her robes and constructed an image of what she must look like. His fantasies took over and instantly he was aroused, though he did not display it. Deep within and beneath the barriers of his inner-consciousness, a beast raged against the walls of its prison, thrashing about the cage of his self-control like a frenzied animal. It lusted for the taste of her sex with a feral savagery that could only be compared to the hunger of a starving kraken. Great waves of sexual frustration flayed the bones of his chest and set his heart pounding like the thunders of armageddon. He wondered if she could hear it. He wondered if she could feel it, like some nuclear force waiting to explode and scourge her with atomic fire right there and then.

All he did was twitch once, and continue to smile, peeling his senses away from her like peeling meathooks from a rack of meat. Instead he looked to Sai'gare. Indeed, he had only known the boy indiscriminately and mostly by reputation until now. How frail and inferior he appeared to be now that Elexial had finally met him in person. He wondered what Sai'gare would look like covered in leeches, his skin flensed from his body - with Elexial wearing it like the latest fashion.

Ah, his eternal smile. What a friendly person he let himself be. Elexial enjoyed this. He enjoyed teasing himself with these fantasies and his subsequent denials on behalf of reason and consequence. He delighted in the rich torments and artistic depravity his mind conjured from its craven depths like summoning beauty out of a chaotic void. But Elexial wondered if there was any part of him that felt a longing for the opposite. He suddenly wondered what had happened to the Elexial that loved to go to raves and hang out with his friends, laughing at pop-culture and disliking rap music. He wondered what had happened to the Elexial that liked candy and found blood revolting, even horrifying. He wondered what happened to the Elexial that found beauty in bright colors and felt warmth in the presence of cute things.

He missed those Elexials. Then very awkwardly, he felt tears slip down his cheeks to his jawline. He missed those Elexials the way one misses someone you loved with every fibre of your being, to hold them in your arms and think, "I love you so much..." and cry because you do - because you love them that much. He cried like that now. He felt that pain very unexpectedly. The pain of holding that person as they died right in front of your eyes. He was no longer smiling as he watched those Elexials die. His smile had faded to a look of dispair, as he wept to realize those aspects of himself called out to him to be ressurected now. He wept to know that he could never do such a thing if he was to become the Swordmaster of the August Star. That was when a very intimate and heartbreaking pain stabbed Elexial and he cried, letting more tears fall from his hidden eyes.

He cried silently. He earned his name yet again.

Why should he attempt to hide his tears? Elexial kneeled before the table and situated himself. With his right hand he brushed away the dampness fleeing his visage, in total contradiction to how he felt about exposing himself. How many aspects of his mind were in total conflict like this? When you feel one way and do another thing constantly, what have you become?

"What have I beocme, " Elexial questioned inwardly, fearfully.

He was surrounded by laughter. Elexial looked around the room as absolute terror flooded him, quickening his heart and flooding his nervous system with adreneline.

"No, no, no, no! Not here! Am I still inside the chamber?!" Elexial trembled and asked himself under his breath low enough that nobody could hear.

He was shaking, and tried very hard not to show it. Paranoia was overwhelming him as he heard - no, as he felt the laughter closing in on him. His hands wanted to rip off his blindfold. To see what was happening. Was he still in the isolation tank?

"Perhaps you spent too long in that chamber."

It repeated over and over in his mind. He felt he might get sick again because of it. He was freaking out, and he couldn't hide it anymore. He needed to scream. He needed to be inside that chamber again so that he could.

"Do it in front of them. Defile yourself. Scream. Writhe. Do it. Do it, Elexial."

Elexial began to hallucenate. He looked up and saw that inner-demonoid creature that was one of his many mental self-constructs looming over him atop the table. He saw it bend down and open its jagged maw to consume him. Then he felt its teeth sinking into his flesh, crunching on bone, severing muscle-tissue and shredding his body. The pain was excrutiating. It was beyond real.

He screamed.