EVENT LOG: Leave a Light On

[pluviosamods]

LEAVE A LIGHT ON

You aren't scared of the dark, are you?

The dark is safer than the light. It's the light the reveals the things you'd rather not know. It's the light that's essential to knowledge and to growth. It's the growing things you should be worried about around here. They've been waiting for you for a long time.

... Of course, so has everything thing. But it's the growing things that have the opportunity, now. No matter how dark and stormy the night, morning always comes.

This is the event mingle post for Leave a Light On. This event includes general content of rapid plant growth and the possibility of infection by the Growth (plant-related body horror element) for participating characters. The IC duration of this event is the afternoon and evening of Day 4.

This is not an event with heavy moderator involvement. Players are welcome to make their own top-levels on this post.

Further information on the event can be found here.

Comments

Lucia Corina | Tabletop OC

[luciacorina]

i. Send Help

Lucia Corina appreciates the sky, of course, but staying in only the cafeteria and lounge has been making her feel a different kind of trapped. And she needs to understand where she is, even if she’s not equipped for it, even if the technology here is worlds beyond her. But surely somewhere there’s something that the previous passengers left behind, something that she could learn about them from.

She’s exploring one of the lower residential decks, one that hasn’t been cleaned up by the ship yet, using her lantern and one of her precious candles—she should see if the ship can get her more—when lights even more dramatic than the strange ones that led them to the cafeteria flicker on.

She doesn’t have long to think about how strange the lights are, because the plants still covering the floor begin to grow explosively. A tangle of vines throws her into a rapidly-growing tree, and by the time the lights go out, she’s lost her lantern and all she has the mind left to do is claw desperately at the plants holding her in place.

She has to get out, before they catch her, before they enthrall her again. She has to run while she can think. She has to get away.

ii. Aftermath

Lucia Corina checks her zither for damage, once she makes it to the cafeteria, but puts it away afterward. She can’t stand the thought of playing right now.

She pulls a chair over to sit with her back to the wall, looking out the windows of the cafeteria, hands folded tightly in her lap, trying to hold onto where and when she is. Her breathing is shaky and every blink is a fight to keep focused on her surroundings instead of getting lost in the past.

She’s not eating. She can’t trust the food, not today.

ii

[helborn]

Casper heads over and sits down next to her - not in a chair, just on the floor. He looks up at her and blinks slowly. Seems they both had a rough time.

"... Food's still not enchanted. But I get not wanting to eat."

[luciacorina]

She startles at the movement, chair knocking back into the wall, before she manages to recognize him. “I— Casper? I don’t care what it is, I won’t. I— I can’t. I won’t go back. I can’t let them take me back.” Her clothes are even more tattered and her hair even more leaf-filled than usual (though now some of the leaves are definitely from the ship), and her eyes are glassy.

i

[vermillionpledge]

Getting John out takes more time than she'd like. Her arms ache and she's hungry, but a jittery energy fills her and drives her back out into the ship's depths instead of to her bunk to rest. She can't shake the thought that by returning now she'd leave someone trapped. Alone, panicking, unable to so much as cry for help...so on she walks, the faint glow of her rapier's focus providing enough light to see by for now.
A pause, when she passes by a doorway into a large room. She couldn't be hearing voices again, could she?
But no, this voice is unfamiliar to her, not one of the dying screams she won't let herself forget. A woman, she suspects, and fairly young. She darts into the room and sees a tangle of vines wrapped around what had probably once been some kind of fruit tree, now wild and gnarled. And from that mass of foliage comes the voice. Pleading in a soft tone, barely audible.
"Can you hear me? I'm here to get you out."

[luciacorina]

Lucia Corina is still clawing at the vines in a blind panic, her legs entirely immobilized and her fingernails broken. She's mostly chanting the word "No" in a voice nearly gone from screaming. She flinches back from the light in animal fear, then tries to surge towards it--light means not plants, though it could also mean them--

Casper LeBlanc Jr. | Tabletop OC

[helborn]

Trapped (extra cws: panic attacks, dissociation, mentions of death)

Casper is exploring down near the lowest decks they can get - he wants to see if there are other bodies in the bog that he should take care of or look at for information. He only gets a little ways into digging, muck already coating his body, when the lights flicker on. He winces, throwing a hand up above his face as he tries to switch from seeing in the dark to seeing in the light again when he feels something moving, and fast. He turns and - ah, shit.

(Is this what that last person was running from? He has the briefest moment to think it before survival instincts kick in.)

He runs, and he's fast - but not fast enough. In his panic he trips over the roots of some plant, landing face-first in the dirt. He tries to rise but he can't, and suddenly he feels feathers brushing past him. Bob... at least he's not going to be squashed... he can hear the bird flitting between the branches, finally coming to rest somewhere - but it's not so easy for Casper. He pushes up with all of his strength and finds his body tangled in some mass of plantlife. He tugs and ivy pulls free, only for a whole mass of branches to fill his vision. He tries shoving up, but there's just too much mass and he's in too awkward a position to move.

Casper snarls in frustration, spitting mud out of his mouth. He tries to move to get to his leg - nope, his leg is trapped under... something. If he could move he might be able to push free, but he can neither see what it is nor move it in any significant way. He cries out - "Help!" - and hears his own voice echoing back at him. It sounds panicked, and that only makes him feel more out of breath. He's not in pain - well, none that he can't handle - but he can still see things growing around him. He smacks his hands down and pushes his head and shoulders up - he doesn't want to drown here. He can't. He can't. Something falls across his back and he yelps in surprise rather than pain, but it's enough that he can't push up more.

The lights finally turn off and he can see the shifting plants stop. Bob chirps down to him - at least he's okay, though he can't get free. Casper closes his eyes and rests his head on his hands, breathing hard. In... out... in.. out.. in. out. in out inout inoutinout - the darkness isn't helping anything, as comforting as it usually makes him feel. He's trapped and he can feel his body shaking. He tries to breathe calmly but his body simply won't listen to him. Instead of breathing he starts crying quietly. Is he going to just be down here until he dies? Is he just waiting for the end?

He loses track of time, of himself. Even if there's some sound of shifting, he can't hear it anymore.


Rescue

Once he's free - before he really should be moving again, but once he's free and has cleaned off at least a little of the mud - he goes searching for other people. Where it's too thick to get through for a human-sized body he sends Bob in to scout. Anyone hidden in the brush where they're looking might suddenly see a raven appear in front of them out of the leaves.

And when he does find someone? He starts ripping the plants out as best he can, not caring if he gets scraped or cut. He can heal himself, it's fine. He's not worried about diseases in the mud - can he even get sick anymore? - more than he's worried about the people who are stuck there, afraid and alone. "Don't... worry! We're coming!"


Aftermath (extra cws: PTSD, possible breakdowns, dissociation)

Casper looks dirty and utterly miserable, sitting in the corner of the room. He doesn't even want to sit at a table for fear of getting it irreparably dirty. He's staring at the floor, not even bothering to eat - not even the shaved ice. He feels like he has a lump in his throat and that he's going to cry at any point now that the adrenaline of rescuing people has worn off.

Bob, on the other hand, is more than happy to eat some of the fruit. He's picking it off from wherever he can get it - even the plates of other passengers if they aren't looking. He already tried bringing some to Casper, but the boy just won't eat. Bob knows better than to try to force it, so he's just grabbing what he can.

[airplaneskyward]

Shang… Beida? was being Very Normal about Casper exploring the lower decks while he stayed up in the cafeteria. He’s definitely not a clingy weirdo. But he also hadn’t really wanted to go corpse hunting, and he couldn’t see in the dark, so it hadn’t been that hard to convince him to stay up in the marginally more pleasant parts of the ship, avoiding wasting his talisman paper by attempting to describe how great Casper was (in Chinese, not Magical Mystery Language, he’s not an exhibitionist) directly onto the wall, where the ship can clean it off if it wants.

He’s thoroughly startled by the lights coming on, but he doesn’t think too much of it until they click back off and then the ship says something about an overgrowth incident. On R3. Casper is… below R3.

Airplane shoves everything back into his qiankun pouches and sprints for the starboard side elevator.

He pauses at the tool cart, but decides his spiritual sword is probably going to be more effective than any mundane steel. So he starts hacking at the plants, heading down whenever he can, using sword glares small enough to avoid either exhausting himself or hitting someone if he gets too near another passenger.

He’s not sure exactly how he’s going to find Casper, so… hopefully sound carries. He alternates shouting Casper’s name with Bob’s, hoping that one or the other will be able to audibly respond so he can triangulate.

[helborn]

Casper... doesn't respond. Bob however finally hears Shang Qinghua's voice and cries out as loudly as he can. Obviously it doesn't translate, but there's a definite note of panic in his voice somehow. It'll take a bit for him to get there, as he's crammed up near the ceiling of the deck. There's thick vines forming a sort of net in front of him and a sturdy woody-stemmed plant behind him, so he can't really move.

aftermath

[mamamias]

Mario notices Bob, first of all, because Bob is picking fruit out of Mario's melting shaved ice while Mario is distracted. Mario chuckles at the bird, with fondness.

"Take what you want, birdie. I'll-a just go get more."

Then, figuring that's a sign to stop moping as much as any, Mario takes a deep breath, leaves Bob there with what's left of the shaved ice, and gets to his feet. Taking it as a double sign, Mario grabs not one shaved ice, but two.

Then he makes his way over to Casper, alone at another table, clearly not having any food. Well, that won't do.

"Hey. I've-a got a second shaved ice here, if you want it. Can I sit?"

[helborn]

Bob will happily take the fruit and just continue eating it. He's hungry, too!

But Casper just stares at the shaved ice and... huh? Oh. Oh! It's Mario. His mood lightens just slightly and he nods.

"Sorry I'm... not the best company right now. Getting trapped is... really bad for me. Not - not that it's not for everyone else, but..."

Childe | Genshin Impact

[astraldownpour]

⟨ GROWLIGHT ⟩
[After spending the last few days in a sort of cleaning frenzy, desperate to get energy out of his system in ways that didn't directly involve violence, Childe had laid down across a fold-out bed in the lounge, arm crossed over his eyes to keep the light out as he napped.

His body was a little sore, but that was nothing a good nap and a hot shower couldn't fix.

Unfortunately, his rest is very suddenly and rudely disturbed. There is a noise that tears through the ship, but to him, it's just part of his dream. Until something tips over the couch, thrusting him roughly into the growing mass of branches and ferns. The fatuus awakes with a start and a snarl.]

HEY? WHAT THE FUCK?

[It takes him a few moments to register what exactly is going on, and that's just long enough for the rapidly growing foliage to twist around his waist and legs, trapping him, taking him upwards WITH its growth. Childe struggles, summoning his hydro blades--- the water just trickles back down into the depths of the writhing mass. He tries again, with electro, starting at sawing at the binds over his waist, but the plants are growing faster than he can cut.

Quickly growing frustrated, the Harbinger tries to stab at what he thinks to be the main trunk(there was so much. so many.). All that ends up achieving is allowing the surrounding plants to tangle around his his wrists and bind him to it further. He snarls, leaning forward and biting the foliage, tearing at it with his teeth.

Childe attempts to stay calm, but the ceiling is approaching at a rate that he really doesn't like! The outside was inhospitable, this was bad. He has half a mind to transform and try to tear through the foliage, but this was just a bunch of stupid plants, surely he could handle this, right?

But the more he moves, the worse the tangle gets, the plantlife gripping him tightly, every new movement leading to a new plant growing around his body and trying to reach the light.

Maybe it was safest to stay still.

The top of the growing mass presses against the ceiling, and he's not far from it, weaved into the depths of the plants. The glass shatters, and the growth does not stop there, but he can feel it begin to stagnate.

The fatuus is very close to that broken ceiling, chips of glass falling on him with bursts of wind from the outside of the ship. His mouth tastes like grass, with strings of plant matter between his teeth.

Childe is absolutely fucking miserable.]

UH. Help...?


⟨ PLANT HELL (cw: dissociation) ⟩
[After being rescued, the Harbinger tears through the foliage in the lower decks with his electro glaive. He travels towards the sounds of people that may be trapped with a sort of quiet fury, taking his frustrations out on the plants around him. The only sound he makes are those of exertion as he throws his blade with force, and the violent chopping through tree and fern and flowers.

Stupid fucking boat. Stupid fucking plants.

Childe keeps his mask affixed to his face, expression unreadable. It's mostly to keep the hacked up plants out of his eyes, but there is a dark sort of anger in his eyes, and a distant glaze to them.

He's not wholly mentally here.]


⟨ DINNER ⟩
[When everything quiets down, he is exhausted, covered in plant filth and dirt, leaves and moss stuck to him, in his hair and folds of his clothes. Childe lingers to a corner of the cafeteria, counting heads, making sure everyone was accounted for and had all their limbs.

He's not really in a place to do much of anything even if someone did lose a limb, aching and sore.

Childe quietly eats the shaved ice dessert, but not much else. His mask is laid on the table next to him.]

Dinner

[helborn]

[Casper's still muddy and gross himself and still feeling... awful... but he approaches Childe carefully. His steps are a little heavy but somehow he looks like he's trying to keep his balance with each one.]

You're... okay?

[His voice is rough, but at least he's there. ... Mostly.]

[astraldownpour]

[His eyes don't quite register Casper walking over to him until it's very clear that the blond man is heading his way. Childe blinks a couple times, noticing the way the other carried himself--- like even walking was a monumental task. Casper seemed to be struggling with his balance.

The redhead reaches out to him when he gets close enough, intending to lay a hand on Casper's shoulder and provide him a bit more stability. His expression softens, and a quiet worry gnaws a hole in his gut. He doesn't think the other man should be standing and moving around much right now.]

Hey, yeah. I'm fine. You?

[Don't worry about me, look at you!]

Crazy day, huh? You look rough. Come sit down, relax a bit.

[Childe pulls up a chair next to him.]

Growlight

[featheradrift]

[ Much like Childe, the Wanderer had been caught up in the sudden explosive growth of plants, but he was fortunate to be in a position to easily blast his way out and fly to safety before he got stuck.

And the safest place was easily the airspace above the ship, so that's where he is right now, observing the growth from above. If he had suspected the plants weren't normal earlier, this all but confirms it. Plants don't explode in growth like that from mere exposure to sunlight. Not even Nahida could force something like this without expending a considerable amount of energy. The sunlight was a trigger for the energy already residing in the plants. Something deep in the depths of the ship must be supplying that energy.

But that wasn't the main point of concern right now. The explosive growth would have posed a danger to everyone else. He scans the plants and strains his ears for any signs of distress from the others, assuming they weren't instantly crushed by the flora, and—

Strange that it's that stupid kid he hears again so clearly. Maybe he's just too familiar with Childe's voice. He doesn't really like what that might imply. But he flies over to where he thinks the source is and looks for a shock of ginger hair, which he doesn't find immediately. Welp, time for the next course of action. He readies some Anemo energy in his hands as he calls out. ]

You better start screaming for your life, you pathetic worm, or you might actually be killed!

[ And he starts throwing his wind blades into the plants haphazardly, cutting them into pieces as he searches for Childe. ]

[astraldownpour]

[The glass, NOT BROKEN-- looms above him, way too close to be comfortable. He can hear... someone close, a familiar voice?

That guy. Great. He was Childe's best shot at getting free currently, and he seemed to know that, slicing through plants with his anemo blades.]

Hey, Featherboy! I'm in here. Uh somewhere. Near the top.

[One of the haphazard blades comes very close to him, just grazing the skin of his arm. It hurts, but it's not something Childe can't walk off. The pain does surprise him, and when he moves his arm, he finds it only tangling further. Fuck.]

Hey, watch it!

[Childe tries to stay still, but it was hard knowing that he was more or less at the mercy of this guy who... knew his family? Of his family? Knew way too much for him to be wholly comfortable with? Who was obsessed with taunting Childe with the idea of him dying and leaving his family to mourn him? What was this dude's DEAL?]

Okay, I have to ask. We're here alone, everyone's busy with their own shit. You're rescuing me... I think. Unless you really want me dead and this is the perfect time to do it.

[Because it would be! But the drifter also didn't seem to be really aiming for that. It was confusing and strange and Childe couldn't begin to fathom an answer unless they knew each other somehow. But he's never seen this guy in his life.]

And you say weird cryptic shit about my family. What is going on? Did I do something to you, or... Or what?

plant hell

[mamamias]

[ Mario's only sort of here, too, if that's anything. He's fallen into the same non-thinking rhythm he fell into while scrubbing certain parts of Isle Delfino - just work, nothing else. More of a flow state than actual dissociation, but nonetheless.

He hates to cut the plants. But they need to get through, and he's - he hasn't laid eyes on everyone, yet. He needs to know they're all safe. How else can he do that? How else, but to clear all the paths he can?

Glaive. Sounds. ...ah. There's Childe. Mario shifts directions to meet up with him. ]

Childe! I'm alright, I'm-a safe - have you seen anyone else?

[astraldownpour]

[Mario's voice cuts through the fog of his mind, but not wholly. Childe can feel himself slipping into a mindset, a pattern familiar to him. Sawing through the darkness of the Abyss, short sword in hand. A young teen horrifically lost. Monsters lurking behind every turn, every shadow a new face, another set of jaws to avoid.

Seeing another person while he was in this state was jarring at times, but not always. Mario hovers between a real person he is seeing and something that is part of the environment. It takes Childe a bit to respond, gripping the glaive tighter.]

Safe? Good.

[The questions require more brainpower to answer, memories both near and far sluicing through one another. The Wanderer's insults. Skirk's disapproving silence. What was the Ship if not another Abyss? What were the vines if not his own ties to humanity, mortality?]

That flying guy. He... rescued me?

[Talking might be helping him keep a better grasp on reality, the quiet anger he was gripped by. Maybe. The redhead pauses, lifting a hand to his face-- mask. One and the same, just a moment ago. Feeling the metal of his mask pressing into his skin helps.]

I haven't seen anyone else yet. You?

SUPER FREAKING MARIO // cw for the Plant Growth TM

[mamamias]

TRAPPED!!!

So when the ground starts shaking Mario's more than prepared to just instantly jump into the air - which saves him for a few seconds. His reflexes are quick, so it's not hard to jump over the oncoming rush of foliage, vaulting over larger vines and branches when he needs, but.

He doesn't, like, have an exit plan here.

He's mid-jump, already airborne, when a vine smashes against him from below. It's large enough to slam him against the ceiling, jarring his head and-- Crap!

When Mario's done seeing stars, he realizes his hat has fallen off his head, landing on the plants below. He needs that!!

"Hey, hey! Someone! Hey! My hat!! Mario needs-a some help in here!!!"

He's trapped here, though, arms pinned by the vine, and his legs kicking. That doesn't help. But he's kicking.



RESCUE!?

Yikes, this one looks real bad! Mario's grabbed an axe, since it was about the same heft as his hammer, but he's pretty sure there's no way an axe is going to do it alone.

"Guess this'a calls for some fire! Watch out, it's-a gonna get hot!"

Slinging the axe into the same place he stores his hammer, he yanks his fire-flower out of his pocket, instead.

...Hey, wait. What? Why is it sprouting... extra stems? They aren't budding, and there's only one extra leaf, but even the sight of that is enough to make Mario double-take.

"Eh? Che cazzo??"

No fire comes, and neither does any more of his voice. If you were helping him clear this area, you might wanna ask him what's up. And if you were waiting for rescue, well...



DINNER???

Mario's enjoying the dessert for sure, this is his favorite treat! But he's more, uh, poking at it than he is eating it.

If you approach, you might find him - dessert half eaten - picking at a tear on his sleeve. No, wait. It's not a tear he's picking at, but something on his skin. Is that a tiny mushroom? He breaks it off - ow! that hurt! - and holds it up to his eyes, squinting at it.

If he notices anyone approaching, he'll hide it ASAP. If he notices.

Trapped!!!

[solardaybreak]

Mint recognizes Mario's voice, and homes in on him. It's not exactly easy to hear, but it is, if barely, possible to distinguish him with her miqo'te hearing.

And well, she knows so few people here, that once Mint knew that it was someone she knew, she stopped paying attention to anything but cutting a path. Its tough. As aggressively as the plants are growing even now, Mint dreads the idea of getting too close. It'd be easy to get trapped herself, as bad as it is.

With each yalm, Mint throws out a sharp shockwave, then casts a Blizzard to dampen the growth. It's hard, and exhausting. Keyblade or not, Mint can barely remember the stances and aether manipulation to perform a Barrage let alone do it so many times in row.

"I hear you! I'm coming, just hold on!"

Re: Trapped!!!

[mamamias]

Oh, a rescue!!

"Mint!! Mint!!!"

There's not anything he can do to escape, really, he just keeps kicking his legs.

"If you-a see my hat, please grab it!"

John | "Malevolent"

[aureatefantasia]

i. Growth

John is not fond of the dark.

During the preceeding days, he's been (he thinks) doing an admirable job of keeping that to himself. And he mostly has, in fact, thanks in part to no one here knowing him and the presence of the mask. But when the lights come on, for all that he is, for all his visible inhumanness, John is drawn to them, eagerly turning his masked face towards them like a towering helianthus. It's a balm against nightmarish lines of thought, against persistent fears and recent and older memory, and for the first time in four days he's actually comfortable not keeping his back close to or against a wall.

Which is a problem after about two minutes, but at least he doesn't end up pinned in place like some manner of butterfly.

He does, however... still end up caught, lifted off the ground with a startled yell in the embrace of several vines and he's pretty sure that's a fucking tree branch that just came out of nowhere that clocked him across the face.

And, of course, there's a fucking skylight over the lounge, glass roof, whatever, and he's just...

Pinned to the wall or in the perfectly mundane (supposedly) dark would be less awkward than this, at any rate. Scrambling, various limbs hunt for anchor as he tries to keep himself from falling—because that's a concern, now. Deep in his chest, John growls and snarls as he tries to free himself.

And his bitching and complaining about it is undoubtedly easy to hear, accompanied by the bright flashes of an almost goldenrod yellow (maybe? or is it marigold? canary? quercitron?) living material as he thrashes irritably being plainly visible.

ii. Freedom

Whether it's through someone's assistance or persistent squirming and questionable anatomy, John's freed from the rapid overgrowth, hitting the ground with a heavy plop-thud. And as much as he wants to sulk and grump and tell all the plants to go fuck themselves (and maybe he does for a moment, he isn't exactly pressed for survival now that the initial panic's subsided), he pulls himself upright.

Slipping out, he'd be grumbling to himself about scrapes. But if freed? ...Well. He's embarrassed about needing help. He shouldn't need help for something this... this benign, if startling. Fabric-wrapped hands lift to check the security of the mask over his face, feeling back under the shade of his hood.

He is full of grouchy, fussy tentacles, though, and likely to be... snarky at first, if approached. Which, while less pleasant than the demeanour he's been effecting so far (leaning on), it's at least understandable.

iii. Wildcard

[Have an idea that doesn't fit either? lmk!]

Growth

[vermillionpledge]

Alisaie is on her way up to the lounge to try and get a look at their surroundings when the lights flicker on. She freezes in place for a moment, temporarily deprived of sight by the brightness until her eyes adjust. But by then, the sound of growth has reached her ears. It's not like anything she's ever seen or heard before, plants and vines growing rapidly enough that it's visible to the naked eye, and she's lucky to be in a fairly plant-free stairwell when it happens.

Others, judging by the startled yells she can hear ahead, have not been so lucky. She breaks into a run, dodging still-growing vines as she goes.

By the time she bursts into the lounge the lights are back off, but the sunlight coming through the window in the roof is still doing its best to keep the plants going. And then she sees the source of the yelling: a barely-visible scrap of yellow fabric twisting around impotently in the grip of what must have just been a sapling before the lights came on.

"John!" she calls, running towards him. She can barely see him, truth be told, covered as he is in plant matter, but hopefully he's unharmed. She doubts any of them has the medical knowledge to heal him if he needs it. "Can you hear me?!"

[aureatefantasia]

Various inhuman limbs struggle to push through whatever tiny gaps they can find while John continues to curse and snarl and bellow in distorted edges in answer to his confinement. How fucking dare these goddamn plants, so on and suchforth, muffled to the point of useless. But at least it makes him feel less powerless as he's trapped in the uncomfortably confined tangle.

(Arthur'd be hyperventilating and panicked and John isn't sure he'd know how to calm him. He doesn't know how to feel about that.)

The familiar voice is just as muffled to him as he is to the world beyond the caging vegetation, but he can hear. What little he's managed to squeeze past still and then stretch in the direction of Alisaie's voice as best he can tell it, redoubling his efforts to push back against the annoyingly resilient plants. Are they still growing? Ugh, he can't tell, but he can't move enough to struggle more than he already is, half-clawing at the plants where he can. It's like if the fucking forest had obnoxious cousins.

Freedom

[astraldownpour]

After being freed himself, Childe had torn through a nice chunk of the ship, looking for other trapped passengers, but also as a means to clear away the plants.

As time stretched on, the fatuus' mind slowly cleared, having spent the last while in a sort of dissociative state, between here and a distant threat he's faced, a mindset all too easy for him to slip into if he only allowed it.

Tired, full of plant sap and juice and debris, the Harbinger makes his way back to the lounge to clear it out the rest of the way.

Exhaustion has set into his frame, having had his nap very rudely interrupted and spending what felt like ages slashing through plant matter, and his mind not quite here nor there.... It was a lot in one day.

The redhead's dead eyes find another person in the lounge, one he hadn't spoken to yet, but does vaguely recognize. Whoever it was, did not seem overly pleased. Join the club, buddy. Some sort of yellow cloth that draped their being, long, too long, something-- things writhing beneath the yellow robes, Childe thinks. And a mask.

Childe is still wearing his own, he realizes. He keeps it on, for now.

"You good?"

[aureatefantasia]

John's only answer is a low, rolling snarl. At first, anyway: he's satisfied himself, telling off the plants (as if they have ears, as if he thinks it'd be perfectly reasonable if they did—he can't be sure, so he chooses to be open to the notion they might) quite colourfully, so there's little more than a dull heat to it. But that almost unenthusiastic teeth-baring sound is followed shortly by what can only be described as a petulant grunt.

"Better if these..." But then that masked face and the body supporting it goes very still, featureless porcelain tilting to peer at the redhead, and the statement falls dead. The face behind the mask sucks in a breath past its teeth, yellow tatters and too many limbs curling in like the balling of a fist. Preparing, almost. And maybe the sight of him is altogether something that might unsettle the mind, too much in too little space and straining against it, but comfortably enough settled within the same body. Conflicting.

His face seems to turn minutely, as if tracing something with his eyes and choosing to let his curiosity be known. Masks have only ever meant one thing that he's encountered, but this stranger's doesn't resemble the ones he's familiar with. Red, for one, and much too sharp-edged. There's a moment's pause as he considers the make of it before he's distracted again.

When he speaks, it's almost guarded, low.

"Are you?"