Pluviosa Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pluviosamods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
pluviosa2025-01-31 10:10 pm
pluviosamods) wrote in pluviosa2025-01-31 10:10 pm
Entry tags:
EVENT - Ripple and Warp IC log (part 1!)
ripple and warp
Hello and welcome to the IC log for Pluviosa's Fourth Wall event, Ripple and Warp!
In addition to providing information about how characters arrive on the new deck (whether they're existing passengers or not), this post also serves as a place where Fourth Wall characters can post top-levels without joining the game community.
Further information on Fourth Walls in general and the other accompanying OOC updates to the game can be found on the OOC information post here. This post also serves in lieu of a regular between-events Test Drive.
Finally, you may now start sending in your applications to keep your AU, CRAU, and so on characters around after the Fourth Wall! Be sure to note the minor changes to the Applications page (namely, the addition of an "AU information" section).
Without further ado - How did you get here? And more importantly, where is 'here' anyway?
Whether or not characters remember falling asleep on the evening of Day 37, they wake up somewhere different on Day 38, lying on a couch in an almost-familiar room. The couch is similar to the ones in the lounge, though those with keen noses will note that the cushions don't smell the same - there's no scent of your fellow passengers, or of the faint hint of an unknown, arid place that first accompanied the clean furnishings the Ship dragged out.
The room isn't one you've been in before, either, but it's still clearly on the Ship somewhere - there's the familiar motion of the legs moving, and the overhead emergency lights (the only source of light initially in the room) are the same as the ones in the hallways on Fern that the Ship has been working so hard to restore. However, that doesn't mean that it's hard to see - indeed, considering the contents of the room, the low lighting might be a blessing in disguise.
It's full of mirrors.
Not only the sorts of mirrors that character would expect to find, the ones that have been missing from the Ship's bathrooms and other expected places, though there are certainly plenty of those in the room - but the walls, the door, and the ceiling are also all mirrors. Mirrors hang on a portion of the larger furniture in what appears to be the living room of a suite. It's not as dramatic as it could be, but aside from the couch characters wake up on, it's pretty close. The floor, at least, is not reflective mirrors, though it's not much less shiny - instead of the usual hotel-esque carpet of the suites, there's seamless stone tile in stormcloud grey, slight variations in the color indicating marble. And all of those reflective surfaces are perfectly clean - although it's possible to find dried spots of decay on the backs of the mirrors, overall, it seems as though time doesn't have claim on this part of the Ship, much less the Growth.
And of course, where there are mirrors, there are reflections.
Some of them - probably the majority - are normal, perfect mirrors of the person the character expects to see. Some of them are distorted, but in a normal, mundane way - funhouse mirrors among the panels on the walls, making you wide or skinny or warped.
And then some of them show reflections of you that are distorted, not as in bent, but as in there being something different about the you that's in them. Different clothes; different hair; different age; different species. Added scars, or missing ones; limbs missing, or replaced with something else. A completely unknown you in the mirror.
For the most part, these altered reflections act the way you would expect, imitating the movements of the rest of the reflections in the room. But sometimes they don't. Sometimes they climb out of the mirror - and whether they're friendly or not remains to be seen.
There's a note on the mirror-topped table next to the couch. In backwards writing that needs to be held up to a mirror to be read easily, it says:
For those who are new around here, the method of arrival is... a bit different. This applies equally to characters who are just here for the fourth wall (alternates of existing characters etc) or those who will be apped as permanent residents - there isn't a distinction to these categories until the end of the event.
These characters arrive with a first sensation of being pressed against a hard, glass surface - not unlike the whispers of sensation that haunted the existing passengers over the last few days. The difference is that this time, the glass you're pressed against isn't a horizontal floor or bed - it's vertical or at least mostly vertical, and you can tell which way is down.
Or, put another way: Newly arrived characters start their boatride on the wrong side of the mirrors that are packed away into the unknown deck. They are facing towards the real world side, the way they would if they were reflections made physical, but turning around and looking behind them is nearly impossible.
Indeed, there's a growing pressure forcing them against the glass barrier. It grows harder and harder to breathe, almost like drowning, or being crushed by water pressure -
Until, just when you think you can't survive any more, something gives way, and you stumble out of the mirror into the real world. It's not the glass breaking - it's more like forcing your way through a soap bubble or the membrane that sits inside an eggshell that separates the hard pieces from the white. Water, too, cascades down out of the mirror with you, splattering all over the floor, but it's just water, and it doesn't seem to have left more than a bit of surface dampness on you.
However, when characters turn around, they will find that while the glass is still in place and unbroken, the mirror will no longer reflect anything - not even the shine of light cast on the glass - rendering these mirrors completely black. This reflectivity stays on the puddle of water around your feet instead, which aggressively reflects the area around it even if taken elsewhere - even if poured into a cup. In motion, it's too transparent to be taken for mercury or silver, but when pooled undisturbed, it does not ripple in response to the motion of the ship. Only the actions of characters or other forces can cause ripples. Otherwise, it appears to be normal water.
Characters who are alternates of each other might come out of the mirrors while they're literally being reflected (a certain surprise for those who are on the normal side of the mirror doing the looking), but they might also just appear in rooms all by themselves, or in the presence of someone else they know (or think they know). Those who don't have any immediate connections among the current passengers are more likely to appear in some empty room, but ultimately this is left to player discretion.
Not all reflections are as potentially friendly as those played by those of us on the player side of the screen, however. In addition to the "deeper" reflections played by real humans, who have or at least appear to have personalities and histories of their own, there are also "shallow" reflections. Unlike the Fourth Wall arrivals, shallow reflections can't be of characters who aren't present at the time - they only appear in response to characters looking into mirrors (whether those characters are existing residents or new arrivals).
The shallow reflections come out of the mirrors just like the Fourth Wall arrivals, but there's always something a little off about them. Some of them stay reversed like a reflection; some of them don't make any noise when they move and cannot speak; some of them come out of the mirrors with the funhouse-esque warped reflections and stay that way. Like their more 'real' counterparts, the mirrors the shallow reflections come out of turn completely flat, unreflective black; unlike their counterparts, they don't really hesitate in striding out, much less stumble and potentially collapse.
What do they want? To shove whoever they're a reflection of into the black mirror they came from. What happens if they succeed?
You die. I mean, probably. There's no way of knowing unless one of them does succeed, after all. If you want your character to die in this fashion, please let the mod team know. While we cannot guarantee that interesting things will happen to all characters (and those who are only here to visit for the Fourth Wall are not eligible), this may have permanent consequences for your character, take them out of play for longer ICly than a typical death, or impact other characters in the game beyond the typical levels of emotional harm. Or some combination of all three.
Fortunately, the shallow reflections only have physical strength on their side - they do not possess any powers of those they take the shapes of, and they can be killed in largely the same way as unremarkable flesh and blood humans. A killing blow causes them to collapse into the same hyper-reflective water as described above; the mirror they came out of remains black.
The deck itself is open fully to character navigation. Like the lab specimen storage of Zinnia, this deck - whose name is not posted anywhere for characters to find easily - is clear of any signs of Growth, and manages to feel chilly even if you get up to the top deck where the sun is shining.
Or... Should be shining. Regardless of the weather on other deck dimensions, the skies above this deck are
always, at best, a cloudy, half-stormy grey. The air above hangs tense, like the clouds are waiting for something to happen. Unlike the other instances of Ship weather, you don't need Neuvillette's particular affinity with water to sense it - any character with empathic or telepathic powers will be able to feel the sense of looming, helpless frustration in the clouds.
The most notable feature of this deck, of course, is that it's full of mirrors. Indeed, it's not only the mirrors that are missing from the suite bathrooms, the public restrooms by the cafeteria, and so on - there are far more mirrors than the Ship would reasonably need to outfit the decks it has, even including the multidimensional nature of it. Mirrors hang from the walls, and then more mirrors lean against those, or against the other furnishings, or even against each other (since some of them are standing mirrors), and the groups against the walls are often five or six panels deep with the largest at the back the side of the glass panels of the Ship's sliding glass balcony doors. (Yes, those are also replaced by mirrors, reflective in both directions.) Tabletops are reflective in their own rights, and then littered with even more, antique-looking hand mirrors and makeup compacts and those little circular mirrors sold in bags by the dozen at the craft store, only an inch across.
Considering all the reflective surfaces, it might be a good thing that there is only emergency power supplied to this deck - enough to keep the guide lights on and ensure that the sliding doors (though not the elevators) are working, and that whatever system pumps water through the faucets and showers is still going. The water is all cold, however, and there isn't any food available on the deck so far as characters are able to find. In the place where characters are used to finding the cafeteria, there is instead a terrifying mirrored bar filled with empty bottles and glasses as well as - well. Take a guess.
With the exception of the sliding glass doors in the suites, the glass of windows and so forth seems to be what it should be - though it's more reflective than seems natural, too. Like Zinnia, the cleaniness of this deck means that characters have full run of it, all the way down to the lounge on the bottom of the Ship - which is the only place that isn't completely clean on this deck. The super-reflective water that pours out of the mirrors seems to have flowed down here at some point, where it sits, unaffected by the motion of the Ship, about an inch deep across the entire floor. This water is the only feature down in the bottom lounge - there is no furniture, in contrast to its Zinnia counterpart.
And on this floor, at the very bottom, and only this floor, the reflective water has the smell - only the smell, not any other qualities - of fresh blood.
The Ship will not answer characters here - although the terminals in the residential deck that can normally be used to communicate with it (in whatever limited capacity) are present, their screens are (of course!) mirrors, and unresponsive. There's also no signs of drones about, not even the basic roomba-like cleaning drones; there's no evidence that they've been here recently, either.
A follow-up log, in which the Ship manages to make contact with characters wherever they are, will be posted later (mod goal time is 2-3 weeks from now). That log will take place on Day 40 and will bring with it food (for everyone who has gotten very hungry by then) and drone assistance, but whether characters actually manage to escape at that point or later on on Day 42 is left open to the opinions of you, the players! Both current players and visitors will be able to vote in a Discord poll on the matter, to be posted in the Discord announcements channel tomorrow (after you've had the chance to sleep on this post and let it cook in your brains a little).
Happy playing! Questions can be asked on Discord or added to the usual questions header below this post.
In addition to providing information about how characters arrive on the new deck (whether they're existing passengers or not), this post also serves as a place where Fourth Wall characters can post top-levels without joining the game community.
Further information on Fourth Walls in general and the other accompanying OOC updates to the game can be found on the OOC information post here. This post also serves in lieu of a regular between-events Test Drive.
Finally, you may now start sending in your applications to keep your AU, CRAU, and so on characters around after the Fourth Wall! Be sure to note the minor changes to the Applications page (namely, the addition of an "AU information" section).
Without further ado - How did you get here? And more importantly, where is 'here' anyway?
existing characters
Whether or not characters remember falling asleep on the evening of Day 37, they wake up somewhere different on Day 38, lying on a couch in an almost-familiar room. The couch is similar to the ones in the lounge, though those with keen noses will note that the cushions don't smell the same - there's no scent of your fellow passengers, or of the faint hint of an unknown, arid place that first accompanied the clean furnishings the Ship dragged out.
The room isn't one you've been in before, either, but it's still clearly on the Ship somewhere - there's the familiar motion of the legs moving, and the overhead emergency lights (the only source of light initially in the room) are the same as the ones in the hallways on Fern that the Ship has been working so hard to restore. However, that doesn't mean that it's hard to see - indeed, considering the contents of the room, the low lighting might be a blessing in disguise.
It's full of mirrors.
Not only the sorts of mirrors that character would expect to find, the ones that have been missing from the Ship's bathrooms and other expected places, though there are certainly plenty of those in the room - but the walls, the door, and the ceiling are also all mirrors. Mirrors hang on a portion of the larger furniture in what appears to be the living room of a suite. It's not as dramatic as it could be, but aside from the couch characters wake up on, it's pretty close. The floor, at least, is not reflective mirrors, though it's not much less shiny - instead of the usual hotel-esque carpet of the suites, there's seamless stone tile in stormcloud grey, slight variations in the color indicating marble. And all of those reflective surfaces are perfectly clean - although it's possible to find dried spots of decay on the backs of the mirrors, overall, it seems as though time doesn't have claim on this part of the Ship, much less the Growth.
And of course, where there are mirrors, there are reflections.
Some of them - probably the majority - are normal, perfect mirrors of the person the character expects to see. Some of them are distorted, but in a normal, mundane way - funhouse mirrors among the panels on the walls, making you wide or skinny or warped.
And then some of them show reflections of you that are distorted, not as in bent, but as in there being something different about the you that's in them. Different clothes; different hair; different age; different species. Added scars, or missing ones; limbs missing, or replaced with something else. A completely unknown you in the mirror.
For the most part, these altered reflections act the way you would expect, imitating the movements of the rest of the reflections in the room. But sometimes they don't. Sometimes they climb out of the mirror - and whether they're friendly or not remains to be seen.
There's a note on the mirror-topped table next to the couch. In backwards writing that needs to be held up to a mirror to be read easily, it says:
Thanks for visiting! I'm sorry I couldn't be there to meet you, but there's just so many people here today!
I wonder if you'll get a chance to meet the real you?
Good luck!
new characters and visitors
For those who are new around here, the method of arrival is... a bit different. This applies equally to characters who are just here for the fourth wall (alternates of existing characters etc) or those who will be apped as permanent residents - there isn't a distinction to these categories until the end of the event.
These characters arrive with a first sensation of being pressed against a hard, glass surface - not unlike the whispers of sensation that haunted the existing passengers over the last few days. The difference is that this time, the glass you're pressed against isn't a horizontal floor or bed - it's vertical or at least mostly vertical, and you can tell which way is down.
Or, put another way: Newly arrived characters start their boatride on the wrong side of the mirrors that are packed away into the unknown deck. They are facing towards the real world side, the way they would if they were reflections made physical, but turning around and looking behind them is nearly impossible.
Indeed, there's a growing pressure forcing them against the glass barrier. It grows harder and harder to breathe, almost like drowning, or being crushed by water pressure -
Until, just when you think you can't survive any more, something gives way, and you stumble out of the mirror into the real world. It's not the glass breaking - it's more like forcing your way through a soap bubble or the membrane that sits inside an eggshell that separates the hard pieces from the white. Water, too, cascades down out of the mirror with you, splattering all over the floor, but it's just water, and it doesn't seem to have left more than a bit of surface dampness on you.
However, when characters turn around, they will find that while the glass is still in place and unbroken, the mirror will no longer reflect anything - not even the shine of light cast on the glass - rendering these mirrors completely black. This reflectivity stays on the puddle of water around your feet instead, which aggressively reflects the area around it even if taken elsewhere - even if poured into a cup. In motion, it's too transparent to be taken for mercury or silver, but when pooled undisturbed, it does not ripple in response to the motion of the ship. Only the actions of characters or other forces can cause ripples. Otherwise, it appears to be normal water.
Characters who are alternates of each other might come out of the mirrors while they're literally being reflected (a certain surprise for those who are on the normal side of the mirror doing the looking), but they might also just appear in rooms all by themselves, or in the presence of someone else they know (or think they know). Those who don't have any immediate connections among the current passengers are more likely to appear in some empty room, but ultimately this is left to player discretion.
shallower reflections
Not all reflections are as potentially friendly as those played by those of us on the player side of the screen, however. In addition to the "deeper" reflections played by real humans, who have or at least appear to have personalities and histories of their own, there are also "shallow" reflections. Unlike the Fourth Wall arrivals, shallow reflections can't be of characters who aren't present at the time - they only appear in response to characters looking into mirrors (whether those characters are existing residents or new arrivals).
The shallow reflections come out of the mirrors just like the Fourth Wall arrivals, but there's always something a little off about them. Some of them stay reversed like a reflection; some of them don't make any noise when they move and cannot speak; some of them come out of the mirrors with the funhouse-esque warped reflections and stay that way. Like their more 'real' counterparts, the mirrors the shallow reflections come out of turn completely flat, unreflective black; unlike their counterparts, they don't really hesitate in striding out, much less stumble and potentially collapse.
What do they want? To shove whoever they're a reflection of into the black mirror they came from. What happens if they succeed?
You die. I mean, probably. There's no way of knowing unless one of them does succeed, after all. If you want your character to die in this fashion, please let the mod team know. While we cannot guarantee that interesting things will happen to all characters (and those who are only here to visit for the Fourth Wall are not eligible), this may have permanent consequences for your character, take them out of play for longer ICly than a typical death, or impact other characters in the game beyond the typical levels of emotional harm. Or some combination of all three.
Fortunately, the shallow reflections only have physical strength on their side - they do not possess any powers of those they take the shapes of, and they can be killed in largely the same way as unremarkable flesh and blood humans. A killing blow causes them to collapse into the same hyper-reflective water as described above; the mirror they came out of remains black.
??? deck
The deck itself is open fully to character navigation. Like the lab specimen storage of Zinnia, this deck - whose name is not posted anywhere for characters to find easily - is clear of any signs of Growth, and manages to feel chilly even if you get up to the top deck where the sun is shining.
Or... Should be shining. Regardless of the weather on other deck dimensions, the skies above this deck are
always, at best, a cloudy, half-stormy grey. The air above hangs tense, like the clouds are waiting for something to happen. Unlike the other instances of Ship weather, you don't need Neuvillette's particular affinity with water to sense it - any character with empathic or telepathic powers will be able to feel the sense of looming, helpless frustration in the clouds.
The most notable feature of this deck, of course, is that it's full of mirrors. Indeed, it's not only the mirrors that are missing from the suite bathrooms, the public restrooms by the cafeteria, and so on - there are far more mirrors than the Ship would reasonably need to outfit the decks it has, even including the multidimensional nature of it. Mirrors hang from the walls, and then more mirrors lean against those, or against the other furnishings, or even against each other (since some of them are standing mirrors), and the groups against the walls are often five or six panels deep with the largest at the back the side of the glass panels of the Ship's sliding glass balcony doors. (Yes, those are also replaced by mirrors, reflective in both directions.) Tabletops are reflective in their own rights, and then littered with even more, antique-looking hand mirrors and makeup compacts and those little circular mirrors sold in bags by the dozen at the craft store, only an inch across.
Considering all the reflective surfaces, it might be a good thing that there is only emergency power supplied to this deck - enough to keep the guide lights on and ensure that the sliding doors (though not the elevators) are working, and that whatever system pumps water through the faucets and showers is still going. The water is all cold, however, and there isn't any food available on the deck so far as characters are able to find. In the place where characters are used to finding the cafeteria, there is instead a terrifying mirrored bar filled with empty bottles and glasses as well as - well. Take a guess.
With the exception of the sliding glass doors in the suites, the glass of windows and so forth seems to be what it should be - though it's more reflective than seems natural, too. Like Zinnia, the cleaniness of this deck means that characters have full run of it, all the way down to the lounge on the bottom of the Ship - which is the only place that isn't completely clean on this deck. The super-reflective water that pours out of the mirrors seems to have flowed down here at some point, where it sits, unaffected by the motion of the Ship, about an inch deep across the entire floor. This water is the only feature down in the bottom lounge - there is no furniture, in contrast to its Zinnia counterpart.
And on this floor, at the very bottom, and only this floor, the reflective water has the smell - only the smell, not any other qualities - of fresh blood.
The Ship will not answer characters here - although the terminals in the residential deck that can normally be used to communicate with it (in whatever limited capacity) are present, their screens are (of course!) mirrors, and unresponsive. There's also no signs of drones about, not even the basic roomba-like cleaning drones; there's no evidence that they've been here recently, either.
A follow-up log, in which the Ship manages to make contact with characters wherever they are, will be posted later (mod goal time is 2-3 weeks from now). That log will take place on Day 40 and will bring with it food (for everyone who has gotten very hungry by then) and drone assistance, but whether characters actually manage to escape at that point or later on on Day 42 is left open to the opinions of you, the players! Both current players and visitors will be able to vote in a Discord poll on the matter, to be posted in the Discord announcements channel tomorrow (after you've had the chance to sleep on this post and let it cook in your brains a little).
Happy playing! Questions can be asked on Discord or added to the usual questions header below this post.
no subject
He tries not to think about it, but when she asks what happened to him... He's not sure how to respond. Everything, since the last time they'd met. His heart aches for her, the mess he'd left behind, Sunday doesn't even consider the idea that this Robin may not be his own.
"I can explain everything. We are on a planet nowhere near Penacony. None of the stars are familiar here. It's too dangerous to leave this ship." He takes her cold hand in his as he speaks, looking at it. Mechanical. His blood runs like ice, as he looks at her, really looks at her. "What happened to you? What did they do to you?"
A pit of dread opens up on his gut. This was his fault, wasn't it? He'd disappeared and she'd been punished in his stead and they'd. Removed her limbs? That didn't sound right. The thought makes him sick, and his hands shake, fear and fury.
"I don't understand. They've never punished anyone so drastically. I... I would have accepted any punishment they deemed necessary. They didn't need to hurt you in my stead."
no subject
"punishment?? What are you talking about brother, I was improved? And I've been like this for years you've seen me like this before, why are you so panicked? I simply took a heavy hit.. but you're here now so I'll be better in no time!"
She tried to put on a cheery facade but inside her own head everything was moving far too quickly why doesn't he recognize me?? Why isn't he angry?? We where just fighting why is he so calm about this?? Does he not remember? Oh that could be extremely useful... NO robin stop, even if things seem weird this is still Sunday, you'd never hurt Sunday ... Right?
"Brother I'm sorry... I'm sorry for Penacony for the battle but why ... Why did you side with them against me??.. I was so close to making finally enacting our dreams.."
no subject
"No... no, you've never looked like this." His hands shake, and he grips her mechanical hand tightly, a lifeline, a vice. He looks at her, his gaze firm, his voice wavering. "I have never seen this before."
He tries not to keep looking at the blood, tries to see her as she was, in the state she was. She seemed to be... Her last memories had been similar to his own, but different. Maybe she'd hit her head and had gotten confused, like he had.
"What do you mean? Back on Penacony I was the one... I was trying to... The Charmony Festival--" Sunday's head spins. He doesn't understand. He feels sick, afraid. What had happened in his absence? Wasn't their dream over? "I was the Chordmaster. I pulled Penacony into Ena's Dream. You and the Trailblazers fought me."
Her halo's frequency was... similar to his memory. But wrong.
"I fell. We both did. You said the dream was over. It was over. You told me that."
no subject
"My dear *Cough* brother, I suppose you've always been the one for creative stories, but I'm truly not in the mood to have another novel of yours based off of me..."
She briefly considers using the harmony to make him tell her what's actually happening... No she would never hurt Sunday like that ... but what the hell is all the nonsense he's spouting.... He was the choirmaster?? Oh how useful that would have been.... The trailblazers fought HIM??? Laughable , Sunday was powerful but he was never a fighter...
"Brother our dream will never be over as long as I draw breath.. I can promise you that.."
the dream was OURS Sunday... Why are you creating stories now of all times?? then a thought slams into her almost as hard as that damn train.... this isn't her Sunday...
no subject
Is it so far to think that this Robin could not be his own? No, he knows this. There was something more to this. There was something... Off about this Robin. More than just her limbs. He'd known it from the start, but something screamed Wrong, to him. Promising that their dream would not be over so long as she still lived? Her limbs were similar to the mannequins of their college days, and by extension, the mannequins within the Dream, the Sweet Dream Troupe altered and changed by the influence of Order. Her other two limbs matched what the Family had described as Xipe's.
Hands he had almost touched himself, the barrier between man and Aeon.
Something about her deeply unsettles him, but perhaps... had he not ended up here at all, he would find more comfort and familiarity in it. Right now, the only thing worse than a reflection of himself, was when that reflection was his own sister. His hands shake, and he can't quell it. Torn between moving closer and stepping away. He knows what he sees in her. Had this version of him failed in keeping her safe? Had he not been faithful, good enough, obedient--
Was there a life in which he had failed so thoroughly that she'd lost herself to the teachings of Order?
"No. No. It's over. It's done. Everything I have ever held dear was in tatters at my feet. I tried to fly and fell."
no subject
She mutters out the last part as her mind drifts off thinking about what he just said. the dream... is over? He.. fell?.. but he was an even stronger flier than her?? This didn't make sense...could this .... Really be a different Sunday..... her face drops slightly into an almost shell shocked state the different appearance... The way he stands ... Aeons even the cadence of his voice is .... Different, it's wrong so so wrong... But it's still him ..." She reaches out to brush her mechanical hand against his face moving slowly hoping he wouldn't flinch away
".....Brother? It is you correct? You are still Sunday... But... Are you my Sunday?..."
For the first time since arriving here she seems almost... Scared. She is terrified of being rejected by her brother again how could he fall? He has always been stronger than me? If I got so close.... How could he still not finish it.. still not being our dream... in her brief panic her path resonance flares and the eyes on her wind briefly open as the order surges into her... And is met by lingering traces on Sunday...
Sunday was touched by the order...
Sunday was touched by the order...
Sunday... Was touched by the order!!
Hope and terror begin to mix through her soul as she realizes what that might have entailed... But.. if he has been touched by the order... If he too had received THEIR blessings....then maybe... Just maybe.. we can do this... Together?
"Brother.. we.. we can rebuild the dream.. the order isn't dead! THEY are still alive within the harmony even now... We can still guide the people...but this time we will have each other!"
Her voice seems to be growing imperceptibly more frantic she wants him back she NEEDS him back... And she was so close she could feel it.
no subject
"I'm still Sunday. I don't believe that I am yours, however. Our memories seem to differ greatly."
She seems to sense something in him, and he freezes, if only a moment. His wing aches as though old wounds had been reopened, as though it were still bleeding. Sunday watches his sister beg, even plead for him to choose their dream, to revive the Order together, her voice so similar to his memories... Telling that they had another chance, they had each other this time---
The halovian closes his eyes, breathing deeply as he listens to her. It pains him. There's an ache in his chest and it has only grown the longer he's been away from her. He digs at it with his hands now, knowing that this would be an impasse as it had been between Robin and he before.
For the last few weeks, Sunday was beginning to have to confront a quiet truth within himself. He was happier here. There were lessons to be learned in his struggles and in his own suffering. There were so many people and perspectives to hear, to understand. And for the first time in a long time, he could allow himself curiosity again. If she had come perhaps, when he was still stumbling and struggling to find his foothold as the Ship swayed, perhaps.... Perhaps he would have. Sunday thinks of the people he's spoken to about his choices, his fears, his worries. Their words. How it had all come down to them looking at him in some degree of understanding, knowing where he stood. And still, they chose to ask him to pursue otherwise. Still, they asked: is this truly what he wanted?
"Robin..."
He thinks of that ghost woman, who was firm about her ability to choose between sitting and waiting, or attempting change with her own two hands. Fridtjof's words: To build a garden one may never see. To become Light. Hope.
Aurelia telling him that his actions are his own. No one will see his god nor will they understand the big picture he has in mind. All they'll know is that they were hurt by someone who has a name and a face, who thinks himself so much above their human wants and freedoms.
Federico. Neuvillette. Two men he felt to be similar to himself, both of which left him with their own set of questions. Both of whom had been gentle, kind to him, as he floundered desperately for meaning.
Fou-Lu begging him to live, to live for himself, to not deny himself anything any longer. Malos, telling him he thought it best to live and love and grasp the things he wanted with two hands--- Before it was too late.
He steadies himself, looking at Robin. As much as his heart ached for normalcy... She wasn't his Robin. And the Order... It wasn't his dream, not anymore. He thinks he can say that a little more firmly, now. His face is gentle, kind, as he shakes his head.
"No."
Sunday reaches for her hand, hoping to take it within his own. He knows she might not understand. All he can do is try.
"There's another way."
no subject
"No"
She watches him extended his hand in stunned shock as two little letters shatter her hopes of a better world, her .one was blank she couldn't understand what he was saying..
She heard him speak but it was distorted
"there's another way"
no... There isn't.... Why brother must you always make the worst choices... Why must you always force my hand....No robin this is Sunday... I can't.. do that to him... Even if he isn't our Sunday.. but this is...
"Brother... What you're implying is blasphemous..."
She sounds like she's on the verge of crying. Her eyes on her wings fully open as her primary pair on her back manifest. One wing is organic as Sunday remembers it. Only having tinges of purple on the tips of the lower feathers, the other however is almost entirely mechanical in the brilliant style of the order, of THEIR brilliance. Only once fully unveiled, do tears start to fall.
"What do you mean 'another way' THERE IS NO OTHER WAY.. this is the only path to peace! To.. to Harmony To not walk it is to condemn those too weak to fly!"
She is shouting before she realizes, a hint of venom in her voice before she lowers her voice back down. She looks shocked at herself did I?... Just yell at Sunday?.. why.. did I do that ... she seems genuinely a little frazzled by her own tone.
"I... I apologize I did not mean to yell.. but brother.. we can only achieve salvation through THEIR light! Please brother... Please just listen to me for once.."
She moves to grab his hand
no subject
She wasn't alone. She didn't have to be. He knows his own memories of that time were clouded with a feeling of isolation so vast it had driven a rift between him and his sister, in the shape of one man, a dream bigger than either of them. Parallel lines were not meant to meet. She cries, and his heart aches, calls for him to reach out, to comfort her.
"Blasphemy..." A word he hadn't thought much of, anymore. The smile he offers her becomes pained, even remorseful. "Robin, my dearest sister. Can I be honest with you? Painfully so?"
He withdraws from Robin for a moment, stepping away, pacing slightly. Sunday's hands fold behind his back.
"I'm not sure there is much I believe in, anymore." Godly or otherwise. "I laid my faith with the people of Penacony, but perhaps my pessimism with humanity was flawed from the start. Penacony as it stands is a paradise for the wealthy and elite. I saw them for who they were, within that confession booth. Placating those drunk off of their own immorality hardly represents every viewpoint of every struggling person."
A pause, a meek laugh, as though it were an embarrassing memory.
"And then I laid my faith with the Aeons, in Xipe. I watched THEM fail me, fail you. I had hoped that the structure and rigidity of Order would allow me to create a haven free of suffering, through placating its citizens with sweet dreams. I sought to martyr myself in the hopes of being the one to watch over them, to ensure every moment was peaceful. I thought it selfless, at the time. I now wonder if it was more selfish of me, to deny everyone, to deny you something you always strived for. The Trailblazers laid upon me an answer I had been seeking."
Fou-Lu's voice, pleading with him to live.
"I have spent quite a few weeks upon this Ship. I have conversed with people from worlds I couldn't begin to imagine. I have... grown more comfortable. I have some something resembling peace here. And I have found that many here have heard me out. They understood my actions. They understood why I wished to achieve this dream. And yet, they still asked that I choose to find hope elsewhere, in smaller things, in different ways. They asked that I not act on behalf of an Aeon no one will see, that I choose what I want for myself. That I help plant a garden I will never see."
The smile on Sunday's face grows sad, as he returns his gaze to her, looking at her, really looking at his sister. The sight of her body now, as it was, makes his chest ache. It's not an unfamiliar one.
"I spent my entire life fighting to keep myself within our Father's good graces. I feared what he would do to you if he chose you, instead. Seeing you now, like this... Everything I worked so hard to prevent stands here in front of me."
Sunday's body trembles. It was hard to say, to admit. He'd spent weeks mulling over his thoughts, his various promises, his connections with the other passengers. What they meant to him. What their words meant to him. He reaches for her outstretched hand.
"And I am asking you to walk with me to find another way. There are as many answers are there are Paths, perhaps even moreso. We can plant the seeds for a better future. For our paradise. But I will not walk with you if The Order walks in your stead, Robin."
no subject
Robin truely couldn't believe what she was hearing... has he... Gone mad... I should slap that look of his face- wait what.. no no no that's Sunday.. I'd never hurt Sunday... He just needs guidance... But this... This is a lot... Perhaps.. he may even have a point? NO absolutely not how dare he even suggest that... she clenches her teeth and stares at him
"Brother... How far have you fallen? .. you are correct in many things.. yet your solutions are not one of them. I am a perfect embodiment of THEIR grace.. of THEIR might... And yet I am still flawed... The order has given us EVERYTHING and you want to turn your back on it?? To run?? We are so close and yet you always seem to stand in my way...
I... I did so much... To protect you... And if you are truly from a world where that monster picked you instead of me then you know just what I was subjected to.. but.. he was at the end of the day correct. Order must rule to protect everyone. His flaws where that he was far to stuck in his ways.. he refused to adapt... Well not anymore.
Brother I am the perfect hybrid of the order and the harmony.. and you... You DARE to lecture me about either????.."
Eyes begin opening on her wings as he can feel her path resonance flaring
And just as quickly as it came her anger spike went away again
"I.. I need to do this Sunday.. I need to guide them!"
there is no peaceful way out for me.. either I succeed.. or I die trying.. there is no other option.. why can't he fucking see that.. I should slap him across his fa- no.. why.. why am i having these thoughts? ...
" everything I worked to prevent now stands before me"
how fucking dare he... But could he be right?.. what.. am I anymore?..... Perfect we are perfect...
Tears begin welling in robins eyes as she flinches backwards at his touch involuntarily a hurt look flashing across her face as she remembers her father.. and just how similar he felt, no.. Sunday is not gopher wood... That man.. was evil... But he was right? ... Maybe ... No no he wasn't he was a monster.. was he?
As robins internal dialogue raged she didn't even feel his hand interlock with her's. As flesh and blood grasp metal and energy...
no subject
Sunday looks at her limbs, as she states he should know what their father had put her through. The metal piercings of his wing ache. There is a younger version of himself in a mirror behind her, clutching bloody feathers, sobbing. There is a dark man looming over him, over both of them. Sunday doesn't make eye contact with it. He can't.
"No. I don't know what he put you through. We're as different as blood and wine." His voice is soft as he shakes his head. She's his sister, but not in a way he finds familiar, that he understands. He sees how the Order has infected her, and knows it is much deeper than his own failing connection to it. "I know what I suffered, and I know that I chose it, out of some childish belief that if I were perfect enough, if I were more accepting and easily moulded into what he wanted, then maybe he would leave you be, and allow you to have your dreams. I was ready to give up everything for the sake of a future where you might be safe and happy, even if it meant losing everything. I was wrong. I know that, now."
Robin cries, and he can feel her anger, frustration, her anguish. Sunday's chest aches, but his mind lingers on his experiences thus far, how much he's learned. How much he had yet to learn. He needs her to know that there was more to life than this. That it could end, stop at anytime.
Order was not the only way. He still wasn't sure what the correct path might be, but it was a journey he was willing to take, either alone or with his loved ones at his side.
"A perfect hybrid of Order and Harmony..." He looks at her with sympathy. Knowing this now, looking at her makes his chest ache, a sad, lonely feeling. "What has been done to you was cruel."
Her resonance blinds him, static in his halo, a hiss within his mind. Still, he chooses to look. Still, he takes her hand and squeezes it.
"We can guide only when we know the way ourselves. The Aeons have no influence here. We need to find our own road forward. I want to walk with you. But the path we've traversed for so long will not serve us here."
Please.
Re-uploaded now with the right text
"Sunday... I'm sorry but I can't believe you... I .. I know you would never lie to me but what you are saying.. it simply isn't possible.
Robin takes a step back and pulls her hand out of his.
"What was dome to me was cruel? What was done to me was perfection! I am one step away from becoming an aeon brother.. I was so.. so close .. the only cruelty I know is that of the suffering masses with nothing to guide them, no god to love them unconditionally! Why then must we allow it to continue?? Why are you complicate in it? Why can you never just listen to me!"
Robin practically shouts as her resonance continues to build. An involuntary response but still a scary one as her wings expand to their full scale and eyes open all across her now rather large wingspan, the eyes on her mechanical wing almost look painted on as her organic wing's eyes seem to look straight through him.
Aeons damnit Sunday why don't you ever make anything easy for me.. why do you always have to be a thorn.. I just want to keep you safe.. so stop fighting it brother.. just.. give in..
"Sunday. I love you, even if you are not my Sunday you are still my brother. My dear beloved brother... So why can't you ever just.. listen to me! father chose me for a reason! And now... And now .."
Her smaller wings droop a little bit as the weight of what she's about to say hits her.
"And now you might be all I have left...
Please brother just... Listen to me. Please."
Robin begs as her thoughts grow cloudy. The realization that she will probably never go home hits her. Hard.
She takes a deep breath.
"What you say about the aeons not being able to reach here is impossible. And thus if they can reach us, we can reach them. If we find a way to get back to Penacony. Maybe we can.. fix things"
She very conveniently leaves out that her idea of fixing things involves becoming an aeon.
no subject
"Just because I don't fall to my knees and agree with you does not mean I'm not listening." He says, keeping his voice soft and level. Trying to, at least. "I hear you. I understand you, perfectly clear."
She mentions going back to Penacony, and something in him, for the first time since he's arrived, snarls no. He... He didn't want to return. It's strange, unfamiliar.
Freeing.
"I'm not going back to Penacony. I will help you, and any others return, if you so wish. But..." His voice fails, before he finds the strength to speak again. "I'm staying right here."
She doesn't need to tell him, because Sunday knows. He can see it. She had that same desperation that he had, that same conviction. Something had begun to happen to him within that great golden machine that he could not understand or explain. But looking at her now, his sister, a version of her he could not save...
"What happens then, when you become an Aeon? Will any of it matter to you anymore? Will I? Will you leave me with only memories to mourn?"
He's upset now, trembling. Afraid as he's always been. He had nothing of his mother but a song he was forgetting. Nothing of their adopted father but the pain he'd caused. Was he supposed to lose Robin too? Was he supposed to take it gracefully?
no subject
"I.. I understand."
She did not understand.
She could tell he was upset she could tell her words angered him. can't he seems I'm doing this all for him?
"What happens then, when you become an Aeon? Will any of it matter to you anymore? Will I? Will you leave me with only memories to mourn?"
She stops, it feels like her brain stopped functioning, her blood turned to ice and her heart stopped beating. I.. no. No no no I wouldn't... I would... I would I... I never thought about it for all her masterful planning and scheming Sunday had just poked a hole in her one true Magnum opus.
"I.. I wouldn't just leave you.. I would always be with you I promise.. I might not be physically by your side but you would always be able to call on me or speak with me or whatever you wanted... Sunday you would have an aeon just a thought away... I .. I I I would never ever abandon you.."
She never thought about it though, realistically speaking she would still be abandoning Sunday, he would no longer be able to hold her and she would not longer be able to hug him and always watch over him. The thought alone almost enraged the family head. The meat thought of her leaving Sunday, of her abandoning the one thing she has always fought for.
She vowed she would always perfect him, and she so nearly broke it.
"I.. I promise you I will always be with you in your heart ok?.."
She hates how angry he is and she hates that he has every right to be. She hates how angry her actions made the most important person in her life. How dare she.