spellbinders | Hijinks Mingle

Hijinks Mingle

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.]

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[it sounds like the Batterwitch and Walpurgisnacht would have a grand time together.]

[she doesn't like that answer (she very nearly doesn't like any answer she gets when she asks a question about Sburb), and she's quiet again, wracking her brain for something, anything she could say that might help make it at least a little better.]

[and then she suddenly starts, as if she'd been hit — wait, no, she just has an idea.]

Would it be all right if I tried something?

Sure, what would be the point of learning if my teacher wasn't taking it seriously?

[ HOW BAD COULD IT BE ]

[crablettes? what an oddly specific food to ask about.]

I've never tried before, but I'm sure I could if provided with the recipe.

[ Why does he plead against this?

Shouldn't he find safety in it? McGillis can't understand, not the lamentable look on his face, not when he shakes his head against a visible truth, tears breaking and pooling hot and wet against the outline of his hand. So much older and so incredibly broken by whatever McGillis has done to him, why does he still sob like that? He watches him through the tunnel of light fading in his vision, losing hope in his one deed again.

In his short life, he's only known anger, pain -- how to receive it, how to give it. It holds true to the end. He doesn't despair, to find the end. He should quickly search for a way to tell this to Gaelio, so that he won't cry anymore --

Only, the scar held in his palm rips open. Only, he can no longer follow the visions that crowd him, as Gaelio, the one he knows (awful thud in his chest reminding him he's still alive), emerges from the shell of the old, the sickening sound of flesh ripping and bone snapping filling blood-stopped ears, or he doesn't, confusing realities flickering in and out, here and gone.

Confusing and horrific. He holds in a gasp.

But his eyes latch onto one of those flickering realities, the sight of Gaelio small and recognizable to him, his slumped body perking slightly to find him again. To see him again.

Has he done it? Someone holds him, but he can't tell if it's boy or man. His blood dirties the person holding him, asking him not to leave. He exhales, losing strength, and rests his red-smeared cheek against his friend's shoulder. Arms like twigs lift and fingers curl into the fabric of Gaelio's shirt, clutching onto his back.

Cruelly innocent, innocently cruel, he doesn't know what he condemns McGillis to by asking him to stay. Not only does this young version of McGillis cleanse and preserve Gaelio's future with this act, he wipes out his own past and present. He finds a way to veer off the road unchanging, contentment washing over him as the light continues to fade.

It's cruel -- to call his name and beg him to stay, to hold him as if losing something precious, to give McGillis a reason to want to stay by doing that. It's cruel to steal his contentment and replace it with doubt, fear, unspeakable, contemptible grief, his cheek pressing tighter and fingers curling into fists. ]

Don't you understand? I've killed you. I'll kill you. I'm not who you think I am.

[ Closing his eyes tight against it, and is he boy or man now? His voice rises into a more frantic pitch, yet sounds deeper. ]

Please, Gaelio, just -- throw me away.

[ Or else he won't be able to go. Or else, the blood retreats from his frame, responding to the abstract wishes of a boy who dreams. A man who dreams as a boy. ]

Just throw me away.

[ that's only the dave half in jades opinion??? ]

Sounds ruff, bro!!! [ jade?

...but she'll let go and pat his shoulder. she manages this by standing on her toes?? ] But Dirk, can I ask you a question? This may be a little rude, as a warning!

Edited (i had 5 diff versions of this tag. can you kill me?) 2017-10-29 16:57 (UTC)

I see... [ He brings his left hand to his chin, rubbing it in thought. ] Where I'm from, spirits and the like are just superstition.

[heh. ruff.]

At this point, I think 'rude' is done being a thing that's a thing. Hit me, Harley.

[allowed to be human, huh? flynn considers this and can't deny that he isn't always out in the public eye. although it's clear he's listening to what vern is saying, it's equally clear that he's conflicted about accepting it as the truth.]

...Is that really okay, though? I've burdened my friends so much already so wouldn't talking with them about my troubles on top of that just be selfish?

[those are good answers to his questions. whoever this girl is, she's got a good head on her shoulders. flynn nods along lightly upon hearing the bit about growing stronger and keeping on trying. right. giving up only leads to failure whereas trying means a chance of succeeding exists. ...and how if you don't rely on people then they can't let you down. a good point, if one that can be applied in the reverse. if he grows stronger and relies only on himself then he won't fail those he cares about.

the bit about betrayal is where his agreement with her words ends. it's okay because they did it first? two wrongs seldom make a right and surely that applies to betrayals. flynn frowns at her.]

...Can it really be okay? [that frown deepens as he turns his gaze back toward the lake.] What if they had a good reason for betraying your trust whereas your own reason was foolish at best?

[ her hands twist a little in the fabric of her skirt, but—maybe surprisingly—she doesn't back down at the frown. she does glance up briefly toward the night sky, but only for as long as it takes to take one breath and let it back out again. ]

Maybe... okay is the wrong way to put it. I don't mean that it's okay because it's... justified, or equal, or anything like that. I think. It isn't, but I don't think they... should expect you to be better? If they've already betrayed you first. Sometimes you try your best, and it still — isn't enough. [ she frowns a little, looking down. ] It's hypocritical.

[ she's definitely treating betraying someone's trust in the vein of letting them down, still, rather than more deliberately flying in the face of someone's trust, but... ]

But now you're adding on new details to the question— qualifying it...? I think it might depend on the reasons, in that case.

[that's... hypocritical, yes, but also not an unfair assumption. if someone does something wrong then they can't expect another person to be perfect all the time. the big issue, however, is that flynn should've been perfect. he should've lived up to those perfect expectations. had he then maybe he could enjoy these fireworks instead of brooding.

he offers her a small, apologetic smile. there's a sizable number of details to go along with this. even in a dream (and flynn's almost positive that's what this is), he can't help but feel bad for weighing someone down with them all.]

Sorry, I may qualify quite a bit.

[maybe adding in the details and talking things out will help clear some things up.]

We both had our reasons. Their reasoning involved saving others but in an unlawful manner; my own... [his expression turns more somber if almost guilty.] my reasoning boiled down to blindly following the orders given to me regardless of if I disagreed with them.

Ah.

[ Closer. He's still half-bent in his movements. A firm support in the cording, but no less thin for it, no less requiring balance he has little practiced. As a boy placing one foot before another on a curb, on the crack segmenting squares of pavement, Gaelio often wobbled and wavered.

He's better now at not thinking about it, at not looking, but he cannot wholly core out awareness of the spongy sky. He cannot wholly trust it, not until the subsequent guarantee from the writing shaping strangely in his head. Should he recognize it, past the table? Of course not. Not in someone else's dream, more interloper than visitor.

Gaelio holds the two puzzles beside one another, divided attention. Who writes, who feels familiar yet he cannot place. The purpose of those swift and distant movements. He has never been as unobservant as he might have appeared, but even with that, he's improved in bounds over the last two years. Even with spit focus, he can seek and identify a strategy that misses something, or someone.

The monster's attacks keep wide enough to keep him from wincing, from anything reflexive and distant. ]

I'm not worried.

[ Mildly, though earlier reflex might have suggested otherwise. ]

Have you had many visitors? Thanks for your hospitality. It seems like a lot of work.

[ Because he is paying enough attention, and even more. Threefold, then: writing, nearer combat, and the constant rhythm of the pendulum. Rhythm in machine and writing. ]

Wouldn't it be easier to stop it altogether?

[ Or let it entrap and kill. He'd thought he couldn't die here, wouldn't die, but even if erroneous in that, it would be less horrible than the norm. Gaelio finds himself indifferent to the prospect of falling, of being struck. Yet his feet keep carefully centered. ]

No way, I insist!

[It'd probably just upset and embarrass 2B, Yuna decides, if Yuna were to bring up those bits and pieces of thought she broadcasts, so she won't, but they are going to make her double down on her friendship effort.]

I just wear the same one every day, you know? I can mix up my style a little this way, hehe. But it's such a nice flower, it'll look really pretty on you! I don't want you to lose it in the meantime.

[still!! holding out her clip!!!! she's grinning so wide, she's just a dumb excited puppy honestly]

Not that deep. We've yet to find the old Radiant settlements that should be there. It will be interesting when people finally do.

[She looks skeptical at that, as though she expects him to burst into tears at any moment.]

He was trying to kill us! And Tristan just wanted to let him go. [A pause.] Uh--well, that's not the point. The point is, what do you want me to do about it?

[ A smooth transition, but the difference between the cool lighting and sleek indoors, and the orange-lit outdoors, is stark enough to feel abrupt. Gaelio blinks as his eyes adjust to the light, and again as, in his sweep of their new surroundings, his eyes are drawn to the motion of Shirogane's hand.

Almost quick enough to keep Gaelio from noticing the purple, the uncanny color for what feels like a wound. Almost. A furrow renews in his brow. Past the wound, past the hand, to the building beyond. To the lion, bigger still than the Blue Lion. Gaelio looks up at it, knowing with dream certainty that this is his Lion, Shirogane's.

That one of the few things about which he can be certain. This does not feel like the intended, peaceful walk. It's hard to remember, but he doubts that Shirogane had been wounded inside.

Another thing about which he's sure: ]

Many. [ Questions. ] But you shouldn't answer them.

[ This dream still trusts him, but he hasn't the right to it. Unearned. ]

I don't belong here. I shouldn't know like this.

[ ... ]

More importantly...

[ Nodding low, to his side. ]

How can we get that seen to?

Imprisonment and standing trial for attempted murder would've been my preferred course of action, for the record.

[releasing someone like that is too softhearted even for flynn's taste. doing the right thing means doing the lawful right thing. ...or well, he'd like to think that but is having some difficulty figuring out whether to do certain lawful things back home.

which segues into her question and leads to flynn slumping his shoulders.]

...Then again, maybe I'd have done the same thing as Tristan.

[switch mystery guy with yuri and replace attempted murder with a successful one and... his expression grows considerably more forlorn at the thought.]

And I suppose I thought that talking things out with someone here could help me figure out what I should do.

Has anyone ever told you that you're really weird?

[that comment ends up making him laugh.]

Yeah, I've been told that before. [multiple people saying it must make it true.] Am I really that weird?

If you say so.

[ And she is not so restrained that a flicker of unconvinced amusement doesn't curl itself into the words. But, back to matters of more import: ]

The events have already been played out. These are only memories. But I can no more restrict visitors' access to this place than I could they to my waking thoughts.

[ Whatever it was causing this bout of telepathic oversharing, it's inconvenient. The writing takes on a bit of a sharper slant, as if reflecting her irritation. In the distance there's a strange stutter in reality — the spider flinches back from nothing before stopping, as grey bleeds through and through and through starting from bound lines where the chairs were. Beneath the overlooking clockwork, as it were, which itself seems to be somewhat less ponderous than it was previously, some of the gears having detached away at some point. ]

And I would rather not attempt to wipe them entirely, given that this... whatever it qualifies as, appears to represent the part of my dreaming subconscious that remembers these events.

[ It is something of a concern when your own magic affects the mind, given that she is unsure of the mechanics behind their abilities not... 'permeating,' in this world. For all that she knows, perhaps all it means is that they cannot actualize their abilities beyond themselves. She is still a magical girl here, after all.

So what goes unsaid and implied here: she would rather keep an eye on this part of her dream for her own sake as much as any visitor's. There are things she would rather remain undisclosed; there is the rest of her dream outside this place, tall skyscrapers underneath a brilliantly starry sky, but in closing this part of her dreamscape away from it as its own enclosed space, it keeps those who appear here trapped within as much as it would keep other wandering dreamers out.

At least, without intervention, that is. And— that is what she's staying here for. ]

So. I will control, and modify the way that this dream chooses to present itself if necessary, but nothing so drastic as preventing it.

[ That comes through in her own voice, finally, at the same time that all the grey retracts itself from the world and the skirts of the girl-spider are set ablaze in a series of explosions. ]

Yes.

[She doesn't know what to do with his suggestions--the presumption of a fair trial is a foreign thing to her, and she has to shut her mouth to keep from arguing further. They were in the middle of a fairy kingdom! How were they supposed to imprison him?

But she doesn't really want to start anything right now.]

If you want to talk, then--talk, I guess.

Have you been hugged before that?

Man, that bad, huh. [Embarrassing.] I've been hugged before, yes. Roxy was big on them, and Jane and Jake weren't totally sparing either.

Not bad, no!!! Just... [ she might as well have hugged a spoon tbh..? but then why was he spoon like. shit was it her? ] I guess I surprised you, sorry!

You definitely surprised me.

[HE WAS SURPRISED]

Sorry.

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Hijinks Mingle

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