Work Text:
The light of the full moon shone upon the courtyard. At first, it was empty, until suddenly, five dolls appeared. Mortis, Solitudinis, Doloris, Amoris, and Timoris. Five dolls that seemed so much like humans. Each wore a mask, hiding their self from the world. Each was their mask, it was their self.
The dolls stood in place, not moving even an iota. They could not move, for they were only dolls. Puppets without strings, dolls without an owner. They stood in the courtyard and merely existed.
Yet the light of the moon still shined down on them. The light which seemed so bright as to fully pervade them. The light which claimed every pore, every shadow in every fold. Only the occasional small cloud could dim it any. The moon was awe-inspiring for all that could see it.
But for the dolls, it was nothing. It was nothing as much as they were nothing. The moon was the moon, the dolls were the dolls. They stood there and all was still. In that courtyard, not even a single blade of grass moved with the wind.
The moon was all. The moon shone and the dolls were its mares. The dolls were a part of the moon, it was their essence.
And from the moon, their heart emerged. A sixth doll, Oblivionis, the heart of the moon, appeared in the courtyard. She stood at the front of the five. Then she stepped forth to appreciate their forms. She grabbed an arm and moved it, a leg, a head. She treated the dolls like the dolls they really were. Nothing more than toys for her to manipulate. She moved through the courtyard gracefully, setting each doll in their place. When she was done, each doll had become a dancer in their finest pose.
That would not be all for Oblivionis. She didn't simply need to move them with her hands, for under the light of the moon, their minds were hers as well. She beckoned with a single hand and they began to dance, slowly and with intention. Each moved elegantly, according to the whims of Oblivionis.
It was as if they were her instruments, body and soul. She waved her hands like a conductor and they continued to move in time. They danced mindlessly, dolls no more than dolls. Oblivionis was satisfied by their dance, but only for so long before she wished more of them.
She gestured and one doll approached her. Timoris. The doll bowed a deep bow to Oblivionis, a sign of her obedience to the one truly in control. Oblivionis grabbed Timoris’ hand, leaving the doll to go limp in her arms.
Oblivionis spun around in a dance with Timoris, before sending her away. Timoris took the place among the dolls she had stood before. In return, Amoris now joined Oblivionis.
Amoris stood in place, desperate for orders when none would come. Oblivionis merely observed her, watched the doll in the pale light of the moon. The doll wished to be used, but Oblivionis had no use for her. But instead of simply dismissing Amoris, Oblivionis gestured for Mortis to join them. Mortis glided over, guided by her the command of her heart’s owner.
Oblivionis stepped away from the two, several steps away, until there was enough distance between them and her for them to move. And then they did, at her command, beginning a dance for two that spun around the courtyard and the other dolls. They hardly thought about what they were doing, but Oblivionis ensured that there was a gentle care in their touch.
Once more, a doll was beckoned, this time Doloris. The blonde doll moved to Oblivionis’ will, forward and forward until she was held in the living moon’s arms. Oblivionis stared at her, then looked away. She let go of Doloris and let the doll fall to the ground, lifeless. She was not willing to even look at her, not even willing to will the doll to her feet. She could stay there, for all Oblivionis cared… Until she looked down again and saw the pathetic expression on her face. With a resigned sigh, she reached down and pulled Doloris up, gazing into her eyes. She let the doll share a quick dance with her, much like Timoris, before she had to let her go. She did so with a spin, letting Doloris go at the zenith, letting her spin and twirl back into her place, where she continued her dance.
Finally, Oblivionis turned her gave to Solitudinis. The last doll, the one which still had not moved. The one that bathed in the moonlight most of all, the moon above and the moon that was Oblivionis.
Oblivionis reached forward and gestured with a single finger, beckoning the doll to join her. Slowly, as if the moonlight in the courtyard was a high seat, Solitudinis practically swam across the grass, until at last she was in Oblinionis’ arms. And unlike Timoris or Doloris before, Oblivionis did not yet Solitudinis go, did not tighten her grip any. Solitudinis was hers, now in body as much as well—
“—And then Solitudinis kissed Oblivionis again and again and again and again, but it was never her doing, because Oblivionis was the one controlling her.” Nyamu turned to look at Sakiko, who had an ashamed blush on her face. “Really? ‘The Light of the Moon?’ This is your new script?”
Sakiko slammed her laptop closed, hoping to hide the incriminating evidence from her bandmate. “It’s still the first draft. So what if it’s a little rough?”
Nyamu’s eyes narrowed on her. “You’re a freak, you know that?” She reached over and tried to grab the laptop out of Sakiko’s hands. “What was that you had me doing with Mutsumi, anyway? What’s with that?”
“I thought you would like that.”
“Ugh." She had a disgusted sneer on her face. "I’ll do you a favor and pretend I never saw this.”
As Nyamu walked out of the dressing room, Sodachi entered. “What was that you’re talking about?”
Nyamu eyed Sakiko with a malicious snicker and Sakiko stared back at her. Nyamu opened her mouth to say something, but then just shrugged. “Eh, it was nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
Sodachi stared at her, a little confused, but heeded her words and didn’t prod further. Clearly this didn't involve her.