My Masterpiece•Edluca

02 ☆ Photographic memory

❁ཻུ۪۪  ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈    ┊Are you still looking                      
┊For answers in the rain?              
┊Are you still looking                      
┊For the reason I should stay?      
✧ ˚ 　· 　 　 .     •
                     ┊ ┊
                 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ

• Author's Note •
● Where the fuck did you people come from. Do you guys just sit there and wait for an Edluca story to exist? I need answers. Anyways, I now have people not to dissapoint in IdentityV. Have fun on this ride detectives, it's a funky one. ●

   Edgar's movements were hauled to a stop as he got to his place. It was next to a kiting area, and he could also hear the soft chirp of a cipher nearby.

     5 ciphers. 4 survivors. 1 hunter. There was a chance they could be merciful, but that rarely happened. At least, from the few matches Edgar had been in. Lady Michiko was usually one of the friendly hunters, usually one of the only ones. All the others, Edgar didn't know if they had the beauty of mercy with them. All they knew was the disgusting fuel of hunting each survivor down.

     They had to decide 5 ciphers, right? It was simple. It was one cipher per person, and someone does an extra cipher. It was... Easy... Correct?

     No matter what lies of the difficulty Edgar told himself, it would never be easy. The hunters had ways to keep them from surviving. There was barely anything they could do but fight back and play the cards the games dealt them.

     If Edgar knew it would be like this, then he wouldn't have accepted the damn letter.

     Then again, he needed to get out of his house. His family had become suffocating and uninspiring after what they did to him.

     He could only really trust his sister and best friend, now. Maple and Shazo. He missed them, he really did. Shazo was loud and annoying half the time, but he was a good friend. And Maple was nothing less of an angel.

     Edgar adjusted his grip on his painting weapons, casting his glance around as he waited for the booming chime of the rounds belts to sound off. Aside from the Cipher spitting softly and churning as it emmited a soft, golden glow, it was oddly quiet. Not even the soft cries of a crow usually perched on rubble was heard.

     Rolling his shoulder blades back the painters ocean-blue eyes judged his surroundings. Not an inch of beauty or inspiration anywhere. It was all... Dead. Edgar's nose scoffed up in disgust. At least being chased down gave him a inspiration to at least survive.

    Then, there was Luca. Loud mouthed, sly, rather dimwitted with the memory of a goldfish. He wasn't always like that, if Edgar's memory was remaining true. The painter knew more about the 'prisoner' more then the prisoner knew about themselves.

     If only he had remembered—

     As Edgar's train of thoughts were ripped clean from his head at the brain-smashing chimes of the games bells, he instantly began scurrying. Dirt spat into the air as he threw himself onto the Cipher, cold sweat already dripping down his face.

     This was the round they could do this. It was an equal team- V.A.L.E was an equal team! There was no way they could mess up. One Decoder, One rescue, and the supports. He believed he was correct.

     It took a while for anything to happen in the match. Was the hunter friendly..? Nothing was happening. No gruesome bells ringing in the air to confirm the hit against a survivor, no hunters skills going off. The only thing from the cipher that he's heard was a dog barking in the distance.