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linkingup2024-09-14 11:29 pm
linkupmods) wrote in linkingup2024-09-14 11:29 pm
WEEKS 7 & 8
WEEKS 7 & 8
THE SEASONS TURN...
- Time really passes, doesn't it? Before you know it, you're halfway through the time that the goddess Braphine has promised that you'll be here, your home away from home. You are starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel, maybe, even through all the challenges and eventful (!) twist and turns that have followed you through your stay here. Surely there can't be anything else lurking in the wings, right?
Through the efforts of all of Braphine's chosen, the city definitely is starting to feel a little bit cheerier, in contrast to the temperatures that are starting to cool as the seasons in Sunset City turn and the leaves change their colour. The Shopping District and the Entertainment District look and feel decidedly more warm, and a quick trip into the Nekyia also show that the haze has cleared from both districts, with the Shadows lurking much fewer in number.
Further exploration will find that the haze has thinned to explorable levels in the Nekyia Fashion District - there are Shadows to be cleared, after all. Maybe if you are lucky, they might drop you a little something in reward for your efforts.
DO YOUR PART FOR CHARITY!
- On Saturday, there's a notice pinned in the lobby of the dormitory:
CHARITY EVENT FOR THE TEMPLE OF BRAPHINE
9/21
FLEA MARKET AM
FORMAL MASQUERADE BALL PM
Come and support the temple when we need it most!
Yes, you read that right: There will be a Charity Event for the Temple of Braphine, hosted by no one other than her devoted followers. They sent this over to the dorms to request the Chosens' assistance, it seems, and as the flyer says, this is an all-day event to take place on September 21st.
In the morning, there will be a Flea Market! There's a note from the hosts that they'd like the Chosens to either find a vendor to assist, provide entertainment, or participate as vendors in the Flea Market. At night, a ball will be held with live music, dinner, refreshments, and an open dance floor for all. They are not asking for your assistance with the ball, however; rather, you are automatically invited as esteemed guests and are encouraged to dress your finest for the occasion!
Given that this isn't for another week, however, it is highly encouraged that you shop around to find an outfit you'll look snazzy in for the ball. You can also start preparing merchandise to sell; or maybe, perhaps, you'd like to save that street performance for the Flea Market? Either way, you've got a long week ahead of you…
…but it won't be all rainbows and sunshine.
KEEP DREAMING.
Late into the night on Saturday, you will dream. What that dream consists of varies with each individual, but you will have one, even if you've never dreamed before. This dream could be a core memory, or perhaps about something you've always wanted, your worst fear...the list goes on.The next day, anyone who enters the Nekyia will find that, aside from the strange "Palaces" that have popped up, things aren't right yet again…but for an entirely different reason. No matter where you are, you enter the Nekyia to a hallway full of dressing rooms. It's a fairly long hallway, because venturing down it will eventually lead you to a door that has your name on it.
Why don't you journey there and find out what awaits?
–
After seeing "Sayaka" and finding your door, you'll find something even more strange.
That dream you had last night? Well, it's here. Your dream may manifest as a small, contained landscape from your dream; a creature that you may have dreamt of might be scurrying around; another version of you, different from a Shadow; or you could be unlucky and have one of your memories on full display for everyone to see.
This phenomenon will last for the next two weeks, and dreamscapes will shift with the different dreams characters have. It won't be a one and done ordeal, unfortunately…but there is, perhaps, a way you can stop it.
(OOC: Sayaka's top level is NOT time sensitive, nor is it a mod-run event. This can be treated like a regular top level to be tagged at your own pace!
Please see the "A Dream Unraveled" commission for some details on what's causing the dreamscapes to appear! Welcome to your dreamwalking/memory share event!)
WEATHER FORECAST
Temperature: hot and humid, but gradually getting cooler! Surprise showers may occur during these two weeks when you least expect it, so stay sharp and don't get drenched!
Characters who journery into the Nekyia when it is raining may find HP-restoring items dropped during combat with Shadows.
Characters who journery into the Nekyia when it is raining may find HP-restoring items dropped during combat with Shadows.
COMMISSIONS
REAL WORLD COMMISSIONS
NEKYIA COMMISSIONS
OOC
READ ME!!!!
- Welcome to your log for Weeks 7 and 8! Feel free to use this log for any developments that happen during the next two weeks. There will be no log posted next week, but a top-level for the charity event will be posted instead on next Saturday!
For plotting, please feel free to head over to this post on the OOC comm to post your plotting top levels.
For Nekyia commissions, you can assume that the Shadows will respawn until they've been beaten enough times to go back to normal.
Don't forget that the deadline for applications and character swaps is on September 28!
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memshare/dreamshare
■■A--Shalemlion and the mouse
a dream unravelled
an alternate canvas
fishy fun fashion (runway)
an alternate canvas
[ Yoon is flagged down to be a second set of eyes for...makeup? Well, okay. He knows a little bit about it, likely not much more than this artist does, but uh.
To the artist: ]
No. Don't cover the shadows, they add to the look. Accentuate his eyes through using...this [ He kind of makes some kind of eyeliner gesture with his fingers on his own eyes to demonstrate. ] instead of trying to cover up his prominent features.
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You want me to wear a cat's eye, is what you're saying.
[However, the make-up artist doesn't agree, saying that the shadows under his eyes are spoiling the natural wings, and must be covered up.]
Lion and the mouse
[ No judgment! Maybe a little doubt, but Yi Sang raises up his knife. He's bi, he actually gets it despite the 24/7 tired look.
He doesn't possess any party support skills beyond healing and cleanses, so he'll end up catching Narcissus's attention by casting Rakunda him. A debuff? How dare. ]
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Unfortunately, Shalem is still a bit distracted, because he doesn't notice Narcissus getting so close until the Shadow is actually right there in front of them. The Magarula still misses both Shalem and Yi Sang though (3, 8), how did that even happen? Hello?]
Sir, you should take a step back! Thank you! [Shalem takes a step back and angles himself so he doesn't clip Yi Sang with a Giant Slice, but he definitely gets that Narcissus well (15).]
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--Ah.
[ He heard that warning thankfully to take a step back as instructed... he's sure that's meant towards him, and is grateful to not be struck by the slice. Unfortunately, when he tries to approach for a hit ( ...1 ), Narcissus spins and Yi Sang is smacked by a fluttering part of his robe that he slices at out of reflex. Not the greatest idea. ]
Just beyond my reach... What a fitting diversion
[ The damage done by both effective and ineffective slashes aren't gonna make the demon happy. His clothes! ]
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Though his dodging skill requires some more practice (10), because he's hit by the Narcissus' Nocturnal Flash. He tries to blink the spots out of his eyes and tries to take a swing... but of course, misses because of the Dizzy (2, 7).]
I hate this, I hate this... [He keeps getting this from Mokoi, now this twink??]
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Here, do not be discouraged.
[ He understands the frustration and the risks from experience... Hm. So Yi Sang has a Me Patra for Shalem. ]
I'll see to it these are treated promptly.
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And Yi Sang's assistance comes just in time, because Shalem is alert enough to not that the Narcissus is casting another Magarula at both of them... which forces the serpent to stand in front of the man in an attempt to shield him from the damage-- he fails (2), though the hit doesn't hurt that much, anyway (8). Hopefully it doesn't hurt Yi Sang as much... sorry for not being a good tank right now.]
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I appreciate the shielding, but... Pardon me.
[ Unfortunately his single target spell and his melee attacks require getting in close... so he uses Rain in Motion to slip by Shalem's defensive stance and more fortunately, Narcissus's own defenses (19)! He lands in a good Curse-element stab before backing off. ]
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He gives a Lunge (13), it doesn't do much, but it's a hit, and he will take that.]
Keep going, he won't be able to hold on for too long.
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memshare ; the figure peeking through the curtains
so he approaches, calmly and innocently, towards the painting with the figure peeking through the curtains, as if maybe looking at it from up close will give him an answer that he can't see from afar, despite his good vision. ]
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To Soujuurou, the transition may seem seamless, from looking at just the oddly realistic painting to actually looking at the silhouette of an actual person peeking from behind a red curtain. The figure comes into the tent, and thus into focus, and it's a feminine person in red, with a red dress, long, wild red hair, a bone white mask, and two long, spiraling horns keeping through the wild hair. They move further into the tent with quiet steps and nary an audible flutter of their dress, and Soujuurou can now see what's actually behind him-- a gaggle of children, freshly bathed and dressed.
Most of them are blurry, as if a painter hasn't yet managed to bring life to them. Two, however, are in sharp focus-- a cat with a tiny tuft of a tail and ears too large for his head, and a... little snake, pale hair, wide eyes, a scrawny black tail lacking in luster. A shadow of a man he is now.
The adult beckons for the children to come to them, and while initially hesitant, they do come, and the adult holds out their hand. One by one, a stiletto is deposited into small, waiting hands, and the children are told that it's time for them to learn how to be part of the Troupe. They're all taken out of the tent to begin their first swings with their new weapons, but while most struggle, the little cat and the little snake manage some semblance of competence by the end of the day. Literally, by the end of the day, the sun moving across the sky rapidly until night falls.
As the children stop training for the night, many of them still seem unsure about their new lives, acting as if they're speaking to one another with body language and gestures, but the little cat looks like he doesn't care, and the little snake is... looking at his dagger in wonder. Before he quickly squirrels it away into his clothing.
Day in and day out, this is their lives for the next week or so, until a new routine is added. A butler, an older man with lines on his face and feathers in his hair, takes the little snake aside to speak to him on occasion.
Oddly.]
Remember that you are modest and gentle, boy of the abyss. That is what the script has in store for you, and no one strays from the script. Modest and gentle.
[And the boy merely nods along, eyes wide.
Now the "A-" name on the plaque may make sense.]
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as he watches the scenes before him, he quietly takes note of a sense of something welling within him.
nostalgia, in a sense, for the times in the mountain. the grueling training that he and other children were put through, where the meaning of day and night would be lost in an exhausting blur of fighting for your life, training to hone your skills, and searching for the scarce luxury of food.
'no one strays from the abyss'
'this is just how things have always been around here, boy. there's no reason to keep doing it, but there's also no reason to stop.
unable to bring himself to speak up or turn away from the sight, he quietly continues to watch ahead. ]
cw: child death
The training becomes more grueling, difficult. The children get more than just dagger drills, but extremely difficult physical training, running, climbing, sparring, jumping, even swimming if the Troupe stops at a river or lake. And then at night they're bundled into carts and wagons and trucks to get on the road. And sometimes, they don't even sleep because they have to learn how to drive the vehicles themselves. All this in between conditioning of who they actually are, their names, their roles according to the script.
And then, during a particularly long stop, they learn the arts. The little cat and the little snake take to the arts easily, dancing, singing, acting, but the training becomes far more difficult than the combat training. Sometimes they have to stand still, holding an awkward pose that tests their balance and flexibility. Sometimes they have to repeat singing a song over and over until their developing voices are strained, breaking, even gone.
No breaks, no respite.
Sometimes, a massive person prowls in the distance, and only comes by when the children are done pushing their bodies to the limit for the day. A massive shadowy figure, more like a silhouette rather than a detailed person. He always, always puts his hands on the shoulders of the little cat, and declares the boy, Solitaire, his favourite, the Blood Diamond of the Crimson Troupe.
Sometimes, Solitaire isn't around, leaving the boy of the abyss as the only child in focus. Sometimes the others call him "Shalem", sometimes they call him "Abyss". But the adults quite like calling him "Abyss".
Eventually, as the children grow, their numbers slowly begin to dwindle. Not noticeably so at first, especially when the boy occasionally called Abyss has wholly preoccupied himself with his training, dancing with a flair that matches that of the adults of the Troupe, finding a newfound appreciation for the strength in his tail and wrapping it around objects, and brandishing his new collection of daggers with sheer relish on his face, most especially when he's digging them into a solid object to practice. Performance and violence in equal measure.
But one day after training, once the sun is slowly going down, Abyss looks up and notes that some of the adults are taking one of his peers away, one of the other children who'd been struggling recently, and even stumbled over their own feet during a particularly grueling drill earlier. He follows them, careful not to make a sound thanks to his training, and sees something that makes him run all the way back to the large room he and the other children sleep in.
He saw the adults execute that one shadowy child and bury the body.]
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but it's when he sees the memory of that child being executed, it feels as if the wind is knocked from him. the cold cruelty of killing one that you've raised as your own, that you've invested so much time and effort, is just too cruel and inhuman for soujuurou to keep quiet.
though aware that this is nothing more than a set of memories, he still reaches out, as if that could save the child or the little snake. and even though he knows that he can't, the single word that comes out is like a desperate scream-- ]
STOP!
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Then he'll begin to see how the young teenager slowly lose his vitality.
He was bright-eyed, promising, but always modest about his achievements, as his role dictated. But he starts drooping more even as he grew taller as the days went on, and his motions in combat practice grew more sluggish. He starts looking more and more like the adult Soujuurou knows. The only time he gains a little bit of his previous energy is when he's dancing or singing, practicing on stage or playing a role in an actual performance as a side character, in front of an audience and subject to the lead performer of the night. And then that energy is lost once more when he watches as the lead performer slaughters one or two of the audience members when the curtains have been drawn and all is silent.
And when it's time to sleep? He can't. He's given a tent of his own, or a room of his own, if they're in a more accommodating location, because he wakes his peers up with his nightmares-- what peers he has left, the number even less now. He grows up like this. Tired, afraid, resigned.
The butler takes him aside more often to remind him of who he is, of what he must do. But now, there's something added-- that his coming of age ritual is approaching, and he must kill the target the Crimson Troupe has designated for him. And all he can do is tremble.
When he becomes an adult, the time has come for the snake to prove himself. He's sent to an almost deserted location, an empty house with a single person inside, bound tightly by rope as to not escape. Dressed in flamboyant clothing meant for the stage, worthy of a lead performer, Abyss- or, Shalem, can only look in horror. He has his dagger clutched in his hand, but can't bring himself to do the deed expected of him. He cuts the man's bonds and hands him the dagger, watching him flee into the wilderness, before running himself. He doesn't return the way he came, but an entirely different way, ripping of the fluttery, trailing parts of his clothing and all of his jewelry because he doesn't need any of this anymore.
All he has, save for shredded clothing, is the naked fear on his face.
Soujuurou will feel two strong hands on his shoulders before being pulled out of the memory, and finally, finally facing the present Shalem, older than the boy he'd seen grow up in the span of minutes, maybe an hour, and with a look of concern on his face.]
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he doesn't struggle further however, as his mind and body both quickly realize the futility of it. it's almost parallel to the boy before him that soujuurou's vitality leaves him, staring in horror as he watches people be slaughtered. the idea that shalem had to witness all of this himself, alone in his own fear, is enough to chill the young man down to his bones, but there is nothing he can do. even if he screams or reaches out for him (and he does, like a drowning man desperate for the shore) nothing will happen.
it's only when he feels those heavy hands upon him that he feels a similar fear to the one of the person he's been watching this whole time. deep and primal, it's a flight or fight instinct that's exactly like the one that shalem must have seen in shadow soujuurou's face just over a week ago. an instinct that's been beaten into him not just by the harsh nature, but the elders who sent him and all the other children to face it, always unprepared.
he's frozen in fear, ready to run like a taut string. and yet he stays still, as if fearing that the snake will take him as his prey again. ]
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slides into dreamshare
That might be why he finds himself most drawn to the painting of red curtains, the figure peeking out reminding him of sneaking peaks of the audience when he was still in London.]
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Though Haruka wouldn't know, when the painting starts to move-- no, it doesn't just start to move, but becomes reality, solidifying into proper figures and not just brush strokes. The gothic haven is gone, and before Haruka is the figure peeking out from behind the curtains. The curtains are in fact the opening to large tent, and an older gentleman dressed like a butler is peeking in on the inhabitants of the tent-- a bunch of young teenagers who have just barely started growing into themselves. Oddly, many of the children seem to be blurry, features, especially faces, indistinct, as if someone hasn't yet figured out how these children should look.
The only two who are actual people among this grouping of children is a little snake with lavender hair and a tiny black tail, and a little cat with ears too large for his head. They hold themselves at a distance from the rest, like young wallflowers.
The butler says it's time to train, and the children file out of the tent and into the sunlight, though the elder man calls the little snake aside first. If Haruka really looks, he might just note feathers in the elder man's hair.
Remember that you are modest and gentle, boy of the abyss, the butler tells the little snake, who gazes up at him with wide eyes. That is who you are according to the script, and none of us shall deviate. Modest and gentle.]
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Haruka follows them out, trying to reason with himself. He shouldn't be jumping to conclusions, because he doesn't... he doesn't know what's going on, here. All he knows is that it reminds him of things he'd rather not be reminded of, and he stands behind the snake with a small frown on his face that gets deeper as the man talks.]
Hey, what the hell are you doing...?
[Will the man even here him? With how the other kids look, it feels like he can't do anything, but this—it's too familiar even if it's so far from anything he's experienced.]
cw: cults being abusive
Majority of the adults are slim in build, graceful in movement, and many seem feminine in gestures. And all of those adults who share body language also share appearance-- long and wild red hair, body-hugging red dresses with long, flowing sleeves, bone-white masks, and bone-white horns peeking out of their hair. With the little snake now present, the adults gather in the middle, gesturing for the children to gather as well.
Some of them gesture, and the children copy. Then they strike a pose, the beginnings of a dance, and the children copy. Nearby, the music begins, and the adults start a dance with fluid, practiced movements that gets wilder and more physically demanding with the wild music.
And the children have to keep up, not that many of them are able to. It's only natural that they struggle, and only the little snake and the little cat manage to keep up-- and only after some repetition of the dance. It's clearly difficult, it's tiring, some children stumble away from the dancing group, but even as it dwindles, the music doesn't stop. In fact, the kids are pushed to return to the dance, a grueling exercise for young teenagers.
At the end of the day, they return to their shared tent, stumbling, leaning on each other, tired, possibly even hungry. But the little cat is taken aside by a giant shadowy figure, and the little snake is taken aside by the butler once more, to reiterate what he said earlier, so whatever was told to the little cat is unknown.
Time moves past the night, and the dancing drills begin again. Time moves past the night, and the dancing drills are run again. And again. This is what their lives are like, a snapshot of a week in a traveling troupe.]
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The seemingly endless cycle of training reminds him of when he was young and stupid, fooled by false promises and trying so hard to do everything that was asked of him. The intensity makes him angrier, too, as he watches the children get pushed to their limits. It's not how real training should be—they should be allowed the time to recover to prevent injury, but...
There's a sense that nobody cares about that. His hands have balled up, nails biting into his palms, but for now he manages to convince himself to keep from reacting no matter how much he wants to punch that butler. There's going to be some payoff for all their training, isn't there? There has to be a performance coming up... eventually.
He's not looking forward to seeing what it is, honestly.]
cw: child endangerment
The dancers in crimson are nowhere to be found near the makeshift stage. Instead, people in dark cloaks are, their features indistinct with their clothing. What's more, they all have daggers in their hands. So do the children, for that matter. They come to the lesson with all sorts of daggers in their hands, the little snake carrying a stiletto in his hands, his grip showing that he's comfortable with it.
Those are their drills for the day-- for the week. Sparring against their seniors with weapons, using whatever they can do to get the upper hand... And failing, of course. They're still young, understudies, even. What hope do they have to properly winning? Their seniors are not kind either, they push their juniors around, throw them down, and even swipe with their own weapons. They're not afraid of injuring anyone, a callous disregard of the lives of those younger than them. Even the little snake and the little cat are having trouble.
Whenever a child stumbles or falls over, the adults standing at the fringes whisper among themselves-- their words are indistinct, but their disappointment is palpable.
The next day is the same. And the next. And the next.]
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This escalated, which shouldn't come as a surprise, and in a way it isn't, not after the things he saw from Soujuurou and Jordi's... whatever they were. There are all sorts of insane things he's seen even in just these few short weeks, so this might as well be happening.
That doesn't mean that Haruka is just going to stand idly by, even though he doesn't know what he can do about anything happening. This might not change anything at all, but seeing the kids get pushed around and injured... He's moving before he can really think about how he's absolutely outmatched, stepping in between the adult and the little snake, trying to block their next attack and grab their arm (7). What he's going to do afterwards... He'll figure it out. Or die trying.]
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1/???
2/2 cw: child death
MAN_STANDING
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1/2
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