Hijinks Mingle

[potentite]

Who: Everyone!
Where: Anywhere around the hub!
When: Days 103-105
Open/Closed: Open mingle!
Notes: See this post for details on the moon prompt and this one for the telepathy/dream/spirit prompts!



[A | Flower Gleam and Glow]
[The nearby moon is still passing close to the hub island, meaning the effects are still in play. Perhaps now is the time to stop and smell the large lit up sparkling moonflowers that have bloomed? Or be annoyed by the mosquito-like insects that came with them.

Alternatively, the deer seem to draw some sort of energy from the moon's light. Given their size, at least their sudden aggression and proximity to the base camp isn't the worst thing in the world but a kick would still break a rib or other bone so be careful! Possibly help each other deal with these cute but troublesome fauna.]



[B | Eavesdropping]
[For some reason, the telepathy will suddenly get rather wonky. Characters won't know why it's happening, though of course no doubt there will be ponderings, but it means characters won't be in control of their ability to broadcast — or more specifically, not broadcast — their thoughts. Time to find out secrets of an embarrassing nature. Or maybe something sadder is going on in your character's head.

If this wasn't bad enough, the area around the signet might experience burning or tingling. Just try to keep a lid on your brain for the day and distract yourself from any annoying pain.]



[C | Talking In Your Sleep]
[Or maybe your character just doesn't have the most interesting thoughts. Maybe they're busy thinking about pie instead of their upsetting childhood. That's fair. Pie is great.

But surely sometimes it haunts their dreams. With the telepathy running amuck, it's no wonder dreams and nightmares are leaking through, too. Of course, it doesn't have to be an accident. Feel free to grab a friend and share a fanciful dreamscape together on purpose! But for those nuts that are tougher to crack, accidents can and will happen.]



[D | Who You Gonna Call]
[Last but not least, as Friday rolls around, there seems to be something odd going on with the island. If your character is inclined towards the spiritual or supernatural, they'll no doubt notice the strange heavy thickness hanging around. There are whispers in the air and all of new energy just feels solemn. Might be good to give people a heads up and keep an eye on it.]

Comments

[allconsumed]

[That's easy for him to say, and Velvet is sick of liars.]

Then you're an idiot. They're keeping me down here for a reason, and if you help me, they'll kill you.

[talim]

You're not the first person who's called me that. I still want to help.

... They can't kill either of us if we don't get caught.

[neatlytuned]

[Even though he's not particularly happy, Nazuna has to grudgingly agree because his saviour has a point.]

I guess not. Thanks.

[At that point, the deer seems to have decided it didn't care about the ice anymore and wanted to know what the commotion was instead. When it moves closer to check them out, Nazuna hears it and immediately remembers his predicament.

Not ready to be deer target again, he bolts before the deer can get too close. On impulse he reaches out to grab his saviour's arm to pull him out of the forest too. Hope you're ready for a run.]

[allconsumed]

No, but surprise opportunities arise sometimes.

[It's hard to imagine an easier target. Velvet has her pride as a hunter, though. Still, she notices the sigh and how the deer is acting in turn.]

Might be dangerous if it follows you back to the living area.

[allconsumed]

[She makes a little incredulous noise. The kid has guts – if he's being honest.]

You want to risk everything for a prisoner you don't know. That's being an idiot.

[talim]

Yeah, maybe.

[ he shrugs it off. ]

It's not the first time I've risked everything for a stranger, and it's always turned out to be worth it, in the end.

[reckoner]

[ Like a tentacle, like a stain. Like a creature with movements so unnatural as to be uncanny, as to disturb. That whip of black slithering. Gaelio watches it hasten, understanding the direction, not indifferent but without tension. A manifestation that comes for him, but he has already died, and he has fought too often in these dreams.

He does think it hate.

The most direct answer, a simple cut through, as if by a razor.

He thinks it, staring, until McGillis speaks. Understanding without hating, and Gaelio's chin falls as if shoved from a shelf, his eyes severed from snake and sky, catching first on that bruise newly swelling harsh, and second on that bruise, and third, and only there. Without eyes to hold, there is only that inexplicable contusion, and another. ]

But you are angry.

[ He'd lived his life in it, Gaelio remembers well.

How to make sense of this, how to understand what McGillis understands best, and not at all. The boy knows hatred, but doesn't hate him, but he kills him. Muscles tighten in his face, down his arms, curl his fingers in restraint. ]

So you must have, or you will. You'll hate me. Or...

[ Gaelio swallows, wrenching his eyes away, not toward sky, not toward anything at all. Nothing at all. Why should that, should absence, more undo than hatred? ]

Or I didn't mean anything at all.

[ That's why, that's the how of it. Easy and swift. How quickly he'd fallen, and how easy it had sounded. None of that in his voice, though Gaelio's contorts, as though his tongue, too, could tense. If not hate, then that, only that, and wretched conviction in it. But there's no point in demanding solution and solace from this child, until he next demands, and he won't again lay his hands.

Laid hands. It blurts, reedy with strain and a frantic impulse to veer into another, if no less dangerous topic. ]

Who did that to you?

[ Don't you know? Doesn't he, who else, shouldn't it be obvious -- can remember, can't remember, can't, won't. ]

[presomnio]

[ Homura takes a deep breath to calm herself. right. right, if she can make a good enough argument, maybe she can convince the dream Madoka? ]

We... are. You said that, I know. And you don't break your promises, because you're Madoka, and Madoka will — Madoka will always wish to help others, no matter what.

But it's dangerous, here. My dreams— Kyubey says I dreamed everything... that I dreamed you, too. [ something at the back of her mind jolts, jarring with some knowledge written deep in her soul that rejects the very suggestion in those statements, that's wrong, Kyubey's wrong. some of the screens are briefly overtaken by static as her gaze goes blank and empty for the same moment— before Homura shakes her head to try to clear it of the fog clouding her thoughts even now. right, that's...

she clasps Madoka's hand in both of her own, firmly. there's something different in her expression, now, something just a little sharper and a little less distant and lost than it was before. ] If I dreamed you, and you're here, then those dreams were true. And in my dreams— people, people die, Madoka. I've tried, and tried, and tried... But I can never change anything. So — so, if this is a dream, if this is my dream, then it's not safe to stay here. You don't need to be trapped in my dream. [ another deep breath, glancing around at the now fully greyed out cityscape through the barred hallway, red ribbons snaking up and down the bars to slowly wear away at them. ] I know I'm weak, and timid, and unreliable... but please, let me help you someplace else. We ... we can talk then.

[potentite]

I don't want to hide!

[He does. He just doesn't want to when Dirk is for whatever stupid reason.]

[potentite]

[So much resentment! He really has no clue what to do about that but it seems like he only makes it worse.]

I'm really not trying to! But I'm sure you know oodles of things that I don't. I don't know things beyond frivolous trivia.

[potentite]

[It's upsetting for Jake, too, and he nods.]

I was there... And she got better! But then she died again. I hate it.

[Life death life death like some kind of on/off switch. It's how that stupid game worked, to the point where dying was a required mechanic.]

Maybe if I stay here I can say sorry to her.

[The jumbled mess doesn't make much sense to him, either. He has a lot to say sorry to her for but he doesn't know how it will help if he's here. He doesn't know how he knows she'll die again. He's tired and the dream shifts and glitches with static.]

[secondadvent]

...In some ways, yes.

[ He pauses for a moment, thinking. ]

As a detective, I strive to uphold justice. I don't exactly condone stealing from the rich, but I believe Robin Hood was morally justified in doing so when the king unfairly raised taxes and sent collectors to rob the poor.

[apatheia]

[Sorry Jake, today isn't your day.... Which is to say that 2B just sends the image right back to him, although there's no lust or anything of the sort accompanying it. There's only the detached, clinical view with which you'd make a scientific examination.]

What is this?

[finagles]

[ Interesting. He's not met many people who keep their cards close to chest yet. Not that McGillis would ever judge that trait, as someone who utilizes it quite freely, but it certainly sparks curiosity. ]

I understand. These circumstances we find ourselves in are dubious at best.

[ And so, keeping a tight lid on the flow of personal information... it's a wise choice.

A flash of light stretches out his wolf's body, reshaping it, until a man again stands where the wolf once was. He tucks his hands behind his back and regards Akechi with a polite smile. It appears as though the hunt had zero effect on a calm disposition. ]

Still, I thank you for your help.

[secondadvent]

[ Akechi focuses for a few moments, trying to sense the feeling Jude is describing. ...Still nothing. ]

Perhaps you're just better at picking up on that sort of thing than I am. [ Or he's crazy, that's always a possibility, but that would be rude to say. ]

[finagles]

[ Slow, or especially cautious.

McGillis has noticed over the years, that despite his flippant personality, he hesitates. Sometimes when he least expects him to, as he does now with the chocolate. This small thing, this small gesture offered to him. Over the years McGillis has braved it more and more -- extending little gestures to Gaelio, sometimes larger ones. Efforts to keep him close, even as he keeps himself at a distance. How reluctant he feels to truly give up his reprieve. How he, himself, cannot commit.

It's as though some signal from the universe tells him not to attempt to overcome his nature, for those are often the times where Gaelio pulls back, or looks away.

Suspicion bred in his bones when his heart and his mind refuse to embrace it.

He sets the plate back onto the tray, which still sits atop his tablet, when Gaelio finally waves it away. After a moment's consideration, he shifts tablet out from under tray and places it to the side for safe-keeping, teacup still balanced in hand. ]

The wrong choice?

[ Another sip as he mulls over the reply. ]

If there's a wrong choice to make, you've left me with the chance of making it.

[ And haven't you? Have you?

A sudden ache in his temple, flickering across his countenance. He passes gloved fingers over the source, in distraction. ]

Which one is it? What makes it wrong?

[thatdamnknight]

[again with him being weird? it gets a soft chuckle out of him, if one almost completely drowned out by a firework going off.]

I've been trying to. I guess I'm just concerned that that alone won't be enough and that I'll mess things up again.

[thatdamnknight]

What exactly is gross about it?

[the curiosity in his voice is as genuine as everything else he's said so far. flynn truthfully has no idea what could be gross about that combination.]

[thatdamnknight]

[start over completely, huh? he can do that. he doesn't entirely understand WHY since all of his ideas seem perfectly edible to him but oh well...]

You don't mind letting me borrow those?

[sonnaille]

[ nanami glances up from her book. it's a very brief look. ]

Mm.

[ she says nothing else — jake can surmise from the book's cover that it's probably a fairy tale collection. ]

[finagles]

[ He is angry. It swells inside at all times. He lets that one point sit, although it surprises him that Gaelio can name it.

He can't speak for his future self. Or he can try, with guesswork involved. His eyes narrow further on the grassy path ahead, going nowhere. Perhaps he does come to hate Gaelio. They co-exist with entirely different mindsets, upbringings. Dreams.

Perhaps that finally came between them. It's not as if he can hold tight to some childish notion that Gaelio is an exception. That he will be allowed one. That he can keep one, without drowning in the role of Fareed heir and losing himself to it completey. Laid out on puppet strings, forced to move in sync, but holding onto a will to resist the incessant tugging --

Until, one day, he'll have the strength to burn those strings. And all the rest.

Except he is a child. Right now, he knows only this about Gaelio: safety, warmth, the first person to show him that his heart rate can increase for reasons beyond survival and fear. A fascinating world exists on the inside with him, a comforting presence graciously showing him glimpses of a normal childhood. Gaelio shares that with him, continues to, even though McGillis can't always grasp it correctly.

It's precious to him. He has so few precious things like that. He lets his chin droop, too, but slower, the grief in his eyes unfolding in waves. To learn, at this age, that he's destined to lose him, and that it will be his own fault when he does...

It's almost too much to bear. He hasn't the years to buffer himself from this blow.

McGillis scoots back against the tree to keep it from encroaching on him, meshing clothes and skin into bark. He brings his knees in to hug his arms around them. ]

I think you must have meant too much to him.

[ Guesswork. Carving out an easier path, that's something he might do.

Not that it can stand to comfort this man. The hurt radiates off of Gaelio like hot gusts of air. A pause, his body tensing with the next question, the surprise of it startling him (and it tumbles into his response) -- ]

You've never asked that before.

[thatdamnknight]

Handle it by myself would be the obvious answer.

[which he has been attempting to do. someone in so a high position of authority as himself needs to stand on his own two feet.]

But I keep worrying that I'll screw things up again. [he lets out a heavy sigh.] Honestly, I keep worrying whether or not I'm cut out to be a knight, let alone a high ranking one.

[the thought has been plaguing him for a while now, but remained unvoiced. it goes back to not wanting to burden others with his issues. in a dream, however, flynn finds himself far more honest than in reality. telling a stranger that doesn't feel wrong whatsoever.]

[thatdamnknight]

I wasn't aware those combinations didn't work well together. I just thought that since beef went well with brownies then pork might go well with cupcakes.

[neatlytuned]

Well, first off, you're trying to put pork inside sweets. And gravy. And curry. Some things just don't go with desserts.

[Let's not even touch the fact that he wants to add an entire cup of vanilla for now.]

[rootbound]

O-obviously.

[trying to be snippy, but he just sounds shaken]

Is that...is that where you were before you came here?