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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I'm — [she's startled, and freezes along with the visions surrounding them. but when this dream they're sharing shifts into movement again, Madoka does as well, and with a renewed determination, she shakes her head, trying to hold on to Homura.]

It's all right, Homura-chan — you're just dreaming! [this isn't the first dream she's stumbled into — not here, and not at home, either. Homulilly has molded her into a warrior that quells the Nightmares, in whatever forms they may take.]

I promise you, none of this is real.

[ it's supposed to be reassuring, telling her that it's a dream. it's a little difficult, however, to see what effect it has on the other girl; she continues to shove weakly for a little while longer before relenting, going limp in Madoka's hold. more tellingly, perhaps, a cast of greyscale starts to slowly overtake their surroundings as both the ticking and laughter slow. whatever images the screens held last freeze like that, whether for good or ill.

but the girl's violet eyes still seem somewhat distant and unfocused, as if seeing something beyond this current scene. she shakes her head in further frustrated confusion, a small keening noise in her throat. ] Dreaming...? Of course I'm dreaming. You're here. [ she repeats, as if those two words could convey the entirety of everything she means, knowingly or not. ]

I've always been dreaming, I think— [ she hiccoughs, pulling back a little to paw furiously at her face and rid it of the tears that don't come. the braids come a little further undone, but not quite, not yet. ] But that doesn't mean it doesn't matter. It doesn't mean it never was true.

[ high above them a few windows recount the tales in freeze frame, the times she was too slow, too distant, too cold to help.

she pulls back further, then fixes Madoka with a weak, helpless sort of smile despite her glassy clouded stare. ]

But you don't need to be dreaming with me. I... I can't protect you here. S—so, if I'm dreaming you— Mado— [ ...Madoka? ] Kaname-san, please leave and be safe.

[if she doesn't look up, she doesn't have to acknowledge those images — and neither does Homura. Madoka will let her hide in her arms, if only for a few moments, to let her recompose herself. then, maybe they can face this together.]

[she'll keep trying to sound reassuring until then.]

Please, call me Madoka. [she desperately needs that trust between them.]

And I'm not going anywhere, all right? I'll always be right here — you don't have to be afraid. [that's a promise she's making a second time, of course. but she doesn't remember the first.]

[Homura had mentioned that, in her memories, Madoka had to go somewhere by herself, to do something important. is that what's behind these nightmares? what was it she had to do? it probably doesn't matter though, surely she'd catch up with her friends again when she was done with whatever it was.]

I— Kaname-san... [ her gaze darts back and forth, furtively. if she blinks a little rapidly at their surroundings while doing so, her brow furrowing in the slightest before relaxing, well. the embrace helps. she does seem a little more collected, at least. ] A—all right, Madoka. If you say so.

But... but I think. I think you might... be mistaken, um. Please don't take this the wrong way. It— it's not that I don't want you here, Madoka. And I'm not... afraid, of you going away. I'm happy, I really am. I...

[ even in dream logic she's aware she's not making much sense, so she falls silent in attempt to collect herself. there's something nagging her here, that things aren't quite right, but proper lucidity still seems to be just beyond her. clearly Madoka's just another part she dreamed up, if this is a dream, and... it's exactly like her, to always be so kind despite Homura trying to tell her otherwise. and of course Homura can't control the things in her own dreams. when could she ever?

her head tilts back up, briefly— staring past the screens and instead to the soft pink light lurking just at the edge of sight— before she looks back to Madoka herself. a mental connection of some sort is made, but it doesn't seem she quite fully grasps yet "it's a dream" in anything more than hazy dreamlike understanding. ]

That's... supposed to be you, I think. Up above everything else. You were supposed to be safe, you aren't supposed to be here. [ try a different tack, then, but that spills out in more of a rush than she'd meant it to, and she takes another shaky breath and another moment to gather her thoughts through the fog. ] I don't know how... but, Madoka, please, you shouldn't stay here.

I'm not going anywhere. [it's said gently, but with a note of firmness, too.]

I think ... we can talk through this, all right? It won't be so scary if we face it together. [and then, maybe, they can have cake. that's how Madoka handles nightmares, after all.]

Why do you think I'm not supposed to be here? We're — we're always together, aren't we?

[ 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.

[very little of what Homura is saying is making any sense — but that's the nature of nightmares, isn't it? they shred perceptions, they twist perspectives so that whoever's dreaming them sees only what they fear most.]

[but there is something that she's said that she can't deny, and it makes Madoka's heart drop to the pit of her stomach. there's always some kernel of truth in a nightmare, as far as she's experienced. sometimes it's not so obvious, but other times, the truth is written as plainly as it was on the Nightmare that Hitomi created.]

[she doesn't want to believe there's any truth in the dream they're sharing right now. but she does manage to nod, slowly.]

I trust you, Homura-chan. Where do you think we should go?

[ she squeezes Madoka's hand with both of her own once more and also nods, managing a very faint sort of smile. ]

Thank you. Um...

[ it's endless falling down a hallway of windows and glass if they continue down this track, no exit, no exit. white rats with uncaring red eyes (like glass) overlooking their actions reaffirms Homura's belief that they have to move. they can't be allowed to reach Madoka, not when she's here to be reached.

but beyond the confines of the familiar twisted hallway is the nighttime skyline she's come to find almost soothing. comforting. when all was dark and the city lights could play their best at pretending to be a field of stardust from the viewpoint of someone high above the city... it's as close as she could get, sometimes, when she needed to remind herself.

another thought falls into place. Homura glances back up, briefly, to softly glowing pink and static filled screens, then back to the clear walls around them.

the glass is stretched thin between two bars worn down and pulled apart by ribbon and thread. the red ribbons from before wind up and the two bars in question, only to tie themselves off in innocent-seeming bows at their ends. to a dreaming mind, the glass is weak. easily breakable. she draws herself up and points over to it, hand steady. ]

There, Madoka. Through the bars. We'll have to break the glass, but... we can get out that way, I think.

[ it'll put them into freefall above the city — a different sort of falling than what they're doing right now, one that keeps going and going without going anywhere — but in the back of her mind, she knows that sort of falling is easy to deal with, for the two of them. ]

That'll be no trouble at all, then. [breaking the glass. falling through to whatever lies ahead for them. figuring everything out once and for all.]

[she offers Homura a smile, as reassuring as she can among the images she can't bring herself to really take in, and the monsters lurking in the shadows, threatening. she'll do whatever it takes to get Homura to a place in her subconscious where she feels safe.]

We'll do it together, right? Whenever you're ready.

[she lifts her hand slightly, offering. they can shatter glass while holding hands; it's fine.]

[ she rushes into it at first, as if to compensate: ] I'm ready right now, Madoka- I've been ready for a while, I think, I just... I had to see everything...

[ but then trails off as the burst of initiative fades and the words she'd spoken in haste sink in. 'had' to see everything, that sounds right. not even because she was trapped, maybe. maybe to remind herself that all of her dreams really did happen, all the good and bad both. all the hearts she's trampled on, it'd feel wrong, somehow, to just forget about them, even if she wanted to. because like she said earlier... even if it'd all amounted to a dream, in the end, it doesn't mean all those timelines she abandoned never existed, and that the people within them never were hurt. she has... a duty to remember all of it.

she pushes past the guilt from that and the guilty feeling that strikes her at Madoka's smile, not as bright as it would usually be, and the instant of that's her fault she made it be that way Madoka didn't have to see all this in response to finish the thought. ]

And then I got stuck, because that's all I know how to do. I got caught up in it, all these things that are so far away. [ she laughs a little, nervously, still as tremulous as her smiles, but she seems a bit more grounded now, finally, by Madoka's presence. they're just screens, after all. just pictures behind glass, locked away until they need viewing. ] I'm sorry for the trouble.

[ there's another moment's hesitance; but then Homura takes the hand offered her. ]

Let's go, Madoka.

Please don't apologize. You haven't done anything wrong, Homura-chan.

[it is simply the nature of nightmares — very few people have complete control over them, after all, and there is rarely anything rational about them, or the feelings that they evoke. and for her part, she is able to keep smiling, not only because that's just how she is, but because she's also decided that what they're seeing here has no basis in truth. they're simply fears. nothing more.]

[this is what Madoka knows how to help with. turning subconscious, unpleasant feelings into happy ones. she can do this for Homura. she gives her hand a gentle, friendly squeeze, and leads the way to the glass.]

On three, then?

[ 'ah, you wouldn't say that if you remembered what I've done.'

but she can't say it. she just smiles wanly, dips her head, and holds on a little tighter. and truthfully: ]

... I don't know how someone like you can always have so much faith in me, Madoka.

[ but it's that same faith in her that's helped to give her strength all this time. the faith that even a doomed Madoka had managed to have in Homura, back when she couldn't even pretend to have the strength she does now.

the violet ribbons still in her hair unravel fully to join the red ones holding the bars apart as Madoka leads them over to the glass, bright spots of color in the greyed-out world. without restraints, her hair shakes itself loose while the hospital gown she's dressed in weaves itself into her uniform into her puella magi outfit. she takes a second glance at the frozen world around them, a brief moment of concern for whether it's okay to leave everything like behind her, but it's only brief. somehow, she knows that everything will start moving again once the two of them leave. ]

On— on three.

[ the nighttime skyline of Mitakihara sprawls itself out before and below them, beneath a sky full of so many more stars than can actually be seen in its truer self. ]

[there's an easy answer to Homura's first remark — it's simply that Homura is her best friend, and Madoka not only cares about her, but she would do anything for her. it's probably obvious in the way she smiles at her.]

[Mitakihara has always been so beautiful. the sight of it makes her feel homesick, for a brief moment, before a different thought suddenly occurs to her: that perhaps the stars illuminating it feel even more like home than the city.]

[it's strange. and it isn't the first time, or even the first dream she's stumbled in on, where she's had that same feeling.]

[but that's not really important right now. in a small burst of pink, Madoka's changed into her own outfit of pink and white, ribbons and curls. her bow unfurls in her hands, and she takes aim.]

All right. One ... two ...

[ her magic continues to swirl for just a heartbeat longer than Madoka's. it revolves in tight spirals around her left forearm as if momentarily unsure of the form it should take, remembering a shield she can no longer use but was the tool most familiar to her— but that's before one each of the pair of twin ribbons unfurls and pulls away to join the formless light.

and like that, it all falls into place. ]

[ her borrowed—remembered—bow blooms to life in her hands to mirror Madoka's own, violet fire flickering to life atop its bough as she pulls it back to full draw, stance square.

(the red ribbon from earlier snakes its way into her hair like an old friend.)

she takes a deep breath, focuses, takes aim— ]

—Three.

[ she finishes the count, and her arrow of bright violet magic is loosed to pierce its way through the glass surrounding them. ]

[a tiny part of her is surprised, perhaps, at the bow and the ribbon — Homura's surely mentioned her weapon to her by now, of course, but for a moment, Madoka can't tell whether her surprise is simply because of the surreal nature of the dream, or if maybe it's another symptom of how far apart their realities truly are.]

[but that isn't important right now. Madoka draws back and fires her own bow on count, assisting in breaking through to the calm and familiarity that must lie beyond.]

[there. they will have sweet dreams together from here on out — she turns her head slightly to offer Homura another reassuring smile.]

[ Homura smiles back as the borrowed weapon vanishes. there's more reserve in the expression now, but somehow — something about it seems more sincere.

even with the clockwork pendulum hanging over their heads like a deadline, a countdown to — what, really? not walpurgisnacht, after all. it doesn't matter. she can unwind, just a little.

she reaches out, pushing past the slight hesitation in her to interlace her hand with Madoka's again — they'd had to let go to shoot, of course — before they leap. Mitakihara almost mirrors the skies above it, and it's familiar and soothing. still there is always that small part of Homura apprehensive of diving into the unknown—

but it's okay, because she's not alone. and it's not the unknown, not really. ]

... Lead the way. [ she says softly, then reaffirms: ] I'll follow you, Madoka.

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Hijinks Mingle

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