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

[rebells]

[There's a momentary stutter, a freeze-frame on Solon's expression like he wasn't expecting that response, but it's gone, and the smirk returned, in the next instant.]

Ahahaha! You really have no idea, do you? Not about him, or about us.

[STRIFE. He rushes Dirk with the sword--he's fast, inhumanly fast, even, but not quite flashstep speed.]

[splinten]

Don't need to know much to know bad news when I see it.

[Dirk has two tricks up his sleeves and he knows Jay hasn't seen either of them and can't fully measure their limitations. So he follows instinct: twist the heart to your advantage. What Jay doesn't know, his sleeping mind can't limit. Dirk's flashstep speed is faster than it has even been, lightning quick behind Solon and moving with his sword for a slash.

Dirk is obviously fighting to kill.]

[rebells]

[The dream-Solon reacts quickly, but not quickly enough: Dirk's slash lands across his chest, drawing blood. The world stutters again. There's a shift back and forth between two images: one of Solon with blood across his front, looking at Dirk wide-eyed like the dream didn't account for this, one of an unharmed Solon with his sword drawn standing over Dirk, smirking menacingly. Like a gap between what the eyes see and what the brain knows must be.

It only lasts a moment--]

[splinten]

[He has to press it. He has to reinforce his reality. He straightens himself up and he pushes for the blood, insisting on it,]

Oh, man, that'd hurt. I'd heal it for you, but there's this little problem where I hate you and am totally okay with the sight of you bleeding and surprised. [Reinforce it, reinforce it. Make it real.] Not used to attacking kids who can move faster than you, huh? It's crazy what an encounter from another world can bring into your life.

[rebells]

[As Dirk speaks, the world s̰̻͇͚̖̥tutters and s͖̗t̲̠̱͉͓͔̲il̨̘̺̯̪l͙̰̞s͉͍̀, like a broken TV screen--Solon's mouth is open, blood drips down his front--

Then it snaps back into focus. Solon is still bleeding, standing across from Dirk, but his expression contorts into a sneer as he thrusts out with his sword--he's still inhumanly fast, even like this. Think quickly.]

You can't escape me. He can't, either.

[splinten]

[Think quick? Sure. Quick is the Strider specialty. And interface screw, unfortunately, is something he has an obnoxious amount of experience with. What the fuck, Caliborn, don't just shove candy into a cartridge.]

Yeah, yeah. Can't escape the miles, how can you outrun him when he's already here. It's kind of old news, dude. I'm not tryin' to run.

[He flashsteps away from Solon, trying to take another cut in the pass, and most importantly getting to the other side of him.]

Hey, I never told Jay what my class was. You know, the thing that made me basically a God. Wanna learn something new before all that losing catches up to you?

[rebells]

What? You think you can s̶̤͖t̮̘͢a̟̘̼̳n͇͠d̟ ͠á͍͍̪͍̥̤g̯̬a̩͓̭̺͇i͖n̩͎̦̖̰̯s̭̮͔̲͓͇̮t̮̥̖̭̳ me?

[There's another stutter, because most of what Dirk is saying is unparsable, thank you Homestuck, but Solon is expecting the flashstep this time, and moves to block that cut with his own sword.

He is probably, however, not expecting what happens next.]

[splinten]

[He sure as fuck isn't. Dirk forces his thoughts on the dream and he short-circuits the goddamned casting time by blatantly ignoring it. While he keeps Solon's sword locked, lightning covers his hand and reaches out to Solon. It grabs him. It takes hold of his soul.]

Prince of Heart. Kind of lame, but the Prince class means destruction and Heart means your essence of being. You know, your soul.

This is gonna hurt, bro. [Maybe it wouldn't, if Dirk didn't make it clear to the dream. Dirk wants to make it clear.] Not sorry.

[Dirk pulls on the lightning and pulls on Solon's soul. He weights his mind with all his experience in dreams and dream bubbles. This is a Heart player's domain. He is not going to lose to this splinter.]

[rebells]

W̪̬̥̝͍͖h̬̖̹͖̘̺͠aţ--

[His eyes go wide, as Dirk takes hold of his soul. He f͇͕͝l̢ͅi̳͈̼̼̝̜c̜͓k̢̺̖͈e̴̖̣̼̣̥̗r̴s̵̩͍̳̤ in and out of f̜̻̫̱o c u s, blurring around Dirk's hand. He doesn't scream, but each time he c͇͔̜ụ̟̖̦̮̤͖͡t̼ş̦ i͎͉̜̦n̸̬̼͓͙͖ his mouth is contorted, as though he is in pain.]

He̙̫̺̻ ̨̠̘͚͈̘c͔̮̯͟a͖̹̻̩͖̱ͅn̹͕̣̱̻͠no̺͕̕t͉̱̬͇̖ ̧̼͉͚͕̜ͅe͎̘̦͙͚͢s̼̖̩̲̙c̸͎̫̥̣̩̬à͕̣͎̮͔̟̥p̘̬̳e̝̣̣͍͕͈͇͠ ̶̞̼͎͕̼͇̮m̥͖͎̪e̵͙̤̮͔.͜ ͔̺Y̢̦͍̠͍̮͚͕͎͚̳̩̤͖͙̕ͅớ̷͓̹̹̪͉̮͇̮̜̟̦͉͚̗̥̫̤̩̘͞͞ư͓͙̻͓͍̗͕̗̟̠̖͈̺̫͚͔̤̮ͅ ̶̢̟̖̯͓̰̘͔͔̲̙̞̭ͅ
b̧̨̗̠͓̫͔͓̟̙̦̞͈̰̤́e͏̨̢̥̗̝̗͉̪͔̖̪̝̻̺͍͔͈̪̭̕͝ḷ̸̷̨͕̲͇͎̰̤̬̲̘͇̼͍ò̮̬̱̦̬̣͚̯͇̗͙͎͎̣̫͖͖̭̤͘͝n҉̠̥͇̬̜̦͕̲̳̞̜̀g̠̮͍̰̹̤͕̭̹̤̀͠ ̦̟̺̯̼̫͘͝t̝͇̺͎̼͍̰̦̣̖̻͎͔̮͎̤̀͞
o̡̕͏͏̤̱̮̺̠̻͇̮̺̠̮̞̖͕̜̯̞ ̷̪̰̱͓̪͝m̶̶̯͚͓̳͍̼͉̱̤̖̱̳̗̖̼̪͖
ȩ̸̧̼̠̣̮̟͘͜--

[It's easy to pull his soul out, after everything: the dream has no defenses against this kind of fuckery. Everything fades to white for a moment, and the dream ends.]

[splinten]

[Dirk lets the soul vanish into nothing under his hand. His breathing comes down from controlled, steadied pace; he lets his mind relax a fraction.

The glitching means he really fucked with what Jay understood of how the world works. And it occurs to him that that could be a really, really fucking bad thing. He does the first thing he can think of: he focuses on a place where he was safe and secure, even if he wasn't happy.

He puts them on the roof of his apartment. There is the ocean, and there are seagulls, and there is nothing around that can hurt you as long as you stay out of the water.

He hesitates to call for Jay. His sword vanishes from his hand, but fingers that carried lightly curl and uncurl. Jesus fuck he hopes he didn't do damage. He didn't want to destroy Jay's soul, just lay a beatdown to a particularly shitty presence in it.

Fuck does he ever live up to his title.]

[rebells]

[Jay doesn't have the same primal associations with the ocean that Dirk does, but he does have good ones. Maybe that's why, after a moment, a gentle breeze ripples through the place and the sea grows oddly calm. There's no sound except for the waves and the cawing of seagulls in the distance.

The world stays like that for another long moment, and then there's a soft footfall, a shadow passing over Dirk's back. If he turns around, he'll see a boy of about eleven or twelve standing there, expression uncertain as he looks between Dirk and his shoes. He edges forward, as if thinking about sitting down, but stops himself.

The resemblance to Jay, in appearance if not in personality, is obvious.]

[splinten]

[Dirk turns and he sees a kid. It would take a level of obliviousness he has never been blessed with not to notice the connection. A ridiculous fear crosses his mind: murdering Solon has jarred Jay's worldview so heavily that he has regressed back to childhood. Dirk has Ruined his Mind.

Stop fucking panicking, Strider. Approach the kid.

>Approach the kid]

Yo.

[Nailed it.]

[rebells]

[There's a long silence. The kid looks uncertain.]

. . . hi?

[He speaks softly, as though he isn't quite used to using his voice. It seems like you're going to have to carry this conversation, Dirk. Good luck.]

[splinten]

[CARRYING A CONVERSATION? THIS IS THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT HE WAS BUILT FOR.]

Uh. Yeah.

Hi.

[FUCK.]

I'm Dirk.

[what the FUCK do you do with an awkward child not used to using his voice

Lil Cal flashsteps into existence hanging off of Dirk's shoulder. He pauses.]

And this is my best friend, Lil Cal.

[He's going to flashstep Lil Cal into waving because Dirk is that level of competent at this.]

[rebells]

[Tiny Jay looks uncertain at the appearance of the puppet, possibly because his dream-child instincts tell him that this puppet is actually evil and hellish. But he waves, after a long pause.]

. . . I know who you are.

[splinten]

[wait what]

Oh. Cool.

Why.

[Is he normal Jay? He isn't acting like normal Jay. What the fuck is happening. WHAT DID HE BREAK.]

[rebells]

[A shrug. Actually, he looks a little confused by the question. Why wouldn't he know who Dirk was?

Maybe he just doesn't want to be big right now. Maybe you broke his personality. It's probably the second one.

After a long pause, Tiny Jay ventures a,]

. . . is he coming back?

[splinten]

[There's a pause.]

I'll wreck his soul again if he does.

[That may not be a great idea. He may have broken Jay's personality. But it feels like the right thing to say.]

[rebells]

[ . . . he nods, and seems a little more relaxed hearing that.]

Okay.

[Congratulations! You did a NOT BAD THING.

The small child plops himself down on the apartment roof. If there are any external signs of Dirk freaking out, he has not noticed them.]

[splinten]

[Holy shit. He didn't fuck up. (Maybe. In this way.)

Dirk pauses a moment, and then sits across from Jay. He flashpuppets Cal to sit in his lap, because that's a good use of his time and energy.]

Do you know this is probably a dream?

[rebells]

[Another long pause before the kid nods.]

That's why he was here . . . he always is.

[The last part is nearly whispered.]

[splinten]

[Ah. A wire seems to snag somewhere in his inner workings.]

He seems like that kind of asshole, yeah. Sorry about that.

[rebells]

. . . I thought you'd ask more questions.

[For a moment, he sounds older--or was that your imagination?]

[splinten]

[He pauses. It did sound older. He thinks.]

It isn't as if the questions haven't crossed my mind, if I'm right in assuming what you were implying there. Going from that tenuous premise, I'd have to flip it turnways and ask you whether or not you'd ask that kind of question of me.

[rebells]

[This is not really a traumatized eleven-year-old kind of question. The kid seems to consider it carefully, though, looking uncertain.]

. . . no.

[He sounds surprised to have come to that conclusion. He also definitely sounds older, and looks a little older, too, like between one blink and the next he'd gained a year or two.]

I want to know things. But . . . .