thousand dreams, lotus boats upon the waters

[promittere]

NEW MOON ADAGIO

Between the constant requests from the North and the sense of tension that pervades the manor, Sage Tatara makes an executive decision: we're going North, baby.

Of all the things that have happened thus far, let this be the ultimate test of your magic. Even as we near summer, it's frigid. Protect yourselves and your allies from the cold. Protect yourselves while also fighting off monsters (or other territorial wizards, should you make the terrible mistake of wandering into another's territory), flying through the vast wilderness, or protecting the poor humans who need your help to survive. Time to blow off some of your steam. Just be sure to obey Tatara's one rule: don't kill each other.

One particular problem of note is in the Forest of Dreams. Without its guardian, many of these rogue monsters and dangerous predators, displaced from their normal habitats, have found their way into the forest. Many of them, however, are unable to survive against the fatal toxin, and there are plenty of animal corpses and mana stones that litter the forest. It might be best to clean these up before the forest guardian returns...

That said, the toxin is yet another thing you must protect yourself against in addition to the cold. While you can likely keep yourself from dying from the toxins, you may not be immune to its effects. This deadly toxin causes anyone who breathes it in to dream and hallucinate vividly, be it images of the past, imagined futures, thoughts of the present processed and warped...

Strangely enough, those nearby may end up sharing in your dreams... Did you want the darkest recesses of your thoughts, hopes, and fears unearthed for others to see?

Those who decide to venture far past the more populated (in relative terms) parts of the North may find themselves stumbling upon what looks to be an abandoned bandit hideout. It seems it's been abandoned for quite a while—nothing to loot here, sorry!—but there sure are a whole lot of monsters that have decided to make this hidden corner of the North their home.

While you're at it, you may find a nearby cave. Beautiful crystals dot the walls and the floors, and there are small pools of hot spring water free for relaxing. It seems to be relatively free of monsters, too. So maybe this wouldn't be a bad spot to relax, away from everything else?

However, there's one thing that makes this cave truly unique, and it isn't the vistas or the springs—it's the bats. These bats hear echoes of the past and replay them for visitors. Should you stay a while and listen, a bat may pay you a visit. And when it does, it may play for you the voices from the memories of visitors past, whose stories may hold a clue or two to your circumstances...

While the Forest of Dreams is a memory/dreamshare free for all, the aural memories replayed by the bats in the Cave of Time will come from one of the original wizards only. If you'd like an audio replay of a perhaps significant moment either in their personal life or a clue as to what happened to them (it will be randomized), then please reply to this comment!

JOB BOARD

Clean-up and repairs. While thanks to the hard work of your Eastern friends the worst was prevented, the City of Rain emerged from their short ordeal a little worse for wear.

Buildings need repair, blood needs to be cleaned off the streets, the injured need help. This is, perhaps, the only time you will be allowed to use magic openly in the city (you've been given permits and everything!), but you still are not allowed to talk outside of designated zones. Please, please don't get arrested...

As for the scrap that litters the streets? Unfortunately, you'll have to take it back to the scrapyard. But this time, there's a big, roaring bonfire out there. Just chuck all the scrap and debris in the fire. The city isn't taking any second chances—extreme situations call for extreme measures.

Reverence. Several Northern villages are currently outside the protection of a wizard, and have requested the sage's wizards' presence. They're terrified of the monsters and worried the barriers for their villages will fail sooner than later. They don't simply ask for help for free, however, and these smaller villages are steeped in their tradition—they'll pay you their respects, praying to you, offering you gifts, groveling at your feet, in hopes for a modicum of your time and protection. Do their offerings please you? Then assist them with what you deem appropriate for their worship to you: kill a few monsters for them, or a lot if you're pleased. Strengthen the barrier a lot, or not at all if you're displeased. It's up to you! You have the power here. What's it like to be a god for a day?

Ladies' night. The monthly lady officers' gathering is coming up in the City of Affluence—it's an exclusive meetup for the women involved in and related to Western military and bureaucratic affairs. Anyone is welcome, so long as they meet two requirements: they are outwardly presenting feminine, and they have an invitation to the gathering. Here's your chance to flex your transformation and glamour spells! Infiltrate the meetup with a disguise and a fake invitation, mingle, enjoy the drinks, the jazz, the entertainment, and find out what you can... What's the Western army up to? Be careful, though—don't get caught and kicked out!

The attendees seem to be excited about the new phantasmagoria technology and the upcoming display, and many whisper about the upcoming Venator meteor shower...

G'RAHA TASKS

Greetings, new friends! I am G'raha Tia, and while I hesitate to call myself a mentor or a replacement for the one you had, I am eternally grateful for the assistance I received and will do my best to help your cause in any way I can. To that end, I feel I may need to be caught up to speed on the events and get to know all of you.

We can have some tea and sandwiches and have a discussion! That's the best way to learn, sometimes.

TATARA ACTIVITIES

Even if we're not here for very long, I think we should leave our mark (not literally! Don't paint on the walls!). I got paint and big paper in the dining hall, but no brushes... Do you know what that means? Finger paint! Finger paint a portrait of yourself with your name and I'll hang it up in the library when they're all done!

Thanks to Cid and Khun, my camcorder works now. The thing is, what's the point of filming anything if we have no way to watch the film?! Could you guys work together to make some kind of projector? Or like...VHS player? We could have a movie night together!

OOC NOTES

🌙 Welcome to your fourth event! It's your dreamshare and memshare event! Ready to open up with your deepest and darkest secrets?
🌙 We're halfway through the game. How do you feel?
🌙 Back at the manor, Kurapika and Maya have set up a bulletin board! Leave comments, argue with your neighbors, have fun. Be nice. Don't set it on fire.
🌙 On the admin side of things, Lav has swapped out Wanderer for G'raha! Please say hello to your new mentor NPC.
🌙 Your OOC plotting post is here! Remember to keep all wider plotting to the post, and remember to check back frequently, since not everyone checks plurk or discord all the time.
🌙 The next country to go on their mission is North. Do you think a PVP-enabled mission will go well?

» NAVIGATION

Comments

continued cw for suicidal disc

[foresightis2020]

[ ...It felt like it was.

Somehow, despite how extraordinarily painful it is to hear Shinjiro utter those words, it feels completely in line with what he expected him to say. Everything evidenced in this scene conveys how little the man truly seems to think of himself in a positive light. The self-blame, the self-hatred...all of it.

It makes him lapse into silence as that wretched man in the memory focuses upon Ken, and Jing Yuan is caught between both scenes — the one of the past, and the one of the present, where Shinjiro seems to be still caught in its depths.

But, moments pass swiftly, and so too does the memory — the ring of a gunshot is clear, startling him with its sound even if he doesn't flinch. It is the confirmation that something horrid happens and it is nothing satisfactory as he sees Shinji hit the ground, having thrown himself in the way. Having taken the bullet for the child, having placing himself as the self-sacrificial element in order to save him — but, Jing Yuan can't blame him for that. He never would wish to.

Yet, Shinjiro keeps talking, raising that hand, even turned away. It shouldn't have been like that, he thinks, for what is not the first time. Jing Yuan already voice as much, and so, he is already talking, in the brief space of moment that they have: ]

It is the wish of all those who die to hope for the same...but...I wonder if those who you might have known would have wanted more than nothing.

[ Shinjiro is always thinking of others. In even this, Jing Yuan believes that it was not for his own sake he did not wish to leave anything behind — regrets or otherwise — as awful as that is to consider.

Though, that feeling hits closer than he might have imagined, as he considers what the other just said, right now. ]

And...I can't help but wish you did not end up or feel so forced into such a corner, to be already considering such things in earnest, with the true threat of the worst coming upon you.

[ Even if Shinji's admission is one that can't be considered an easy one, it is one worth its weight; a burden that Shinjiro seems to have been carrying on his shoulders for some time, and wishing back then that it would pull him under.

He wonders if being in a place like this means that has changed, even a little.

But, a part of him doubts it would be so simple and clean as that either. ]

id memory share

[themanwhoerasedhisname]

It won't be a problem.

[Or at least Kiryu is confident he can handle whatever comes, even with this forest's...qualities]

The sooner we get out from there the better, though.

[1145pm]

[ Tatara's eyes soften when he hears it back, and his eyes slowly drift back to Khun. When their colors meet, his own eyes soften, but give way to the quiet turbulence underneath. His heart hurts in ways he didn't think was possible—for his present with Khun, for his past with Mikoto, for the unknowable future.

He doesn't know how long he holds Khun's gaze, but he's drawn out of it when Mikoto gives a low huff of an amused snort. "I see."

He leans forward, bringing his cigarette to his lips again.

"Totsuka."

Tatara turns to look at him, and his shoulders rise with his breath.

"When are you coming back?"

The question catches him by surprise, and he seems to freeze in place. He stares at his king, expression blank and unreadable. Thoughts roll through his mind, of the path he's walked these past few months, of the memories and rituals he keeps to his chest, of the people he's met and the things he's done and how his colors have changed and still change.

He gives a small, sad smile. ]

I don't think I am. [ He says this, out loud. It feels different to declaring acceptance for his death, but it does feel like a small part of him is moving on.

This might be a dream, maybe he's talking to himself, ultimately, but he speaks what's on his mind, just in the small, small chance that Mikoto Suoh is actually listening to him. ]

That's why I just wanted to drop by, and check in on you. I'm glad to see you're all okay. [ His gaze sweeps over the bar, from Mikoto to Anna to Kusanagi to the guys playing on the other side of the room. His eyes rest eventually on Khun. ] I wanted to show Khun where I came from, so he knows where to go.

[ "I see," says Mikoto, again, who stares long and hard at Khun. It's hard to tell what he's thinking, his expression almost as blank as Anna's. But when he breathes out his smoke, he says to Khun:

"Take care of him. I just hope he's not too much of a pain in the ass." ]

[1145pm]

Yeah.

[ He's glad Day agrees, because he's a bit nervous to see what's coming next.

After a moment of silence, dream-Tatara seems to notice the white-haired stranger's presence. A bright, innocent smile crosses his face, and he brings the camera up to his eye, training it on the stranger.

"December 7th, 11:45 PM."

He takes a few steps towards the stranger, who still hums as he gazes out over the scenery.

"Hey! It's a nice night out! I came here to shoot the night scenery—what about you?"

The stranger stands up straight as dream-Tatara approaches.

"My name is Tatara Totsuka. You are?"

The stranger turns. In the briefest of seconds, Day will see the look on his face—wide-eyed, deranged, his mouth stretched in either direction in an unnatural grin.

From his pocket, he pulls out a gun. And without word or warning, he shoots Tatara square in the stomach. The sage, camera and all, crumples to the ground, and blood begins to pool on the concrete below him.

The real Tatara still isn't looking, though his eyebrows are knit upward, his mouth folded into a frown. He's doing his best to keep back tears. ]

[1145pm]

Ooh!

[ Tatara's face visibly lights up behind the camera. He paps his free hand against his wrist in a way to clap. ]

Well then, Ithaqua of the Northern Country, could you show us a little of what your magic is capable of? Can you turn into an abominable snowman?

[lighthaus]

[ where to go...there's only one direction, isn't there? there's only been one for a while now. but it helps to have lights to guide him on the way, even if he's still not sure of what he's going to find at the end.

beyond that, he's genuinely happy that tatara has people who he cared for, but more than that, cared for him back. that's what family is supposed to be like, isn't it? (he wouldn't know, but he doesn't need to understand) family and those others you hold dear.

he turns to face mikoto when he's spoken to, blue to red. in some ways they're similar and in other ways they're nothing alike at all. but indubitably, he knows that tatara totsuka has a place just for himself in both their hearts. ]

I will. And even if he is, I can handle it. [ he knows there will be times, but that's honestly part of his boyfriend's charm. ]

Whatever he needs, I'll give it to him on my name of Khun Aguero Agnis. [ again for the room, though his eyes, bright, blue, and irrepressible find coral and rest there, like it's where they belong. ]

[troublereduction]

[ Ah.

Perhaps this is what senseless, absurd cruelty is; something that happens so suddenly and unceremoniously that you can't assign rhyme or reason to it. It's a good thing he's holding onto Tatara's hand, because it keeps him from whatever knee-jerk response he might have otherwise. His grip tightens briefly as he watches the dream-Tatara bleed out.

After a moment, he moves to stand in front of Tatara—no need to call him that way and have him see all...this. ]

...Tatara. [ And Day notices he looks like he's trying not to cry. ]

[1145pm]

[ "Good."

That's all the Red King says. He leans back in his seat, and closes his eyes.

Mikoto is honest, like Khun. A pain in the ass isn't an insult, it's just a fact, a reflection of the world through a king's eyes. Tatara trusts that view. And that Khun sees it, accepts it for what it is, and does not argue (or vehemently agree), has Tatara feel something else in his heart lock into place. He hears Khun speak his full name and he's so—overwhelmed. He doesn't know what to think, his heart handing himself from one king to another.

When Khun looks at him, he'll see the emotion swirling in his eyes. But he quickly brightens in a little smile, a quiet huff of contentment escaping his lips.

"Tatara," Anna speaks again and turns to look at him. Tatara keeps the smile on his face and reaches to gently pat her on the head. ]

I know. I'll miss you too, Anna.

[ In the years watching her grow up, he knows the slight shift in her expression means she's sad. Ah, it's a hard look to bear—he holds Khun's hand tighter, because he's trying to keep himself together. He hopes Anna never made this face in real life, without him there...

Tatara turns to Mikoto. ]

King—

[ Except the dream begins to fade. The afternoon sun filtering through the windows of Bar Homra grow in brightness, and the scene around them takes on a warm, but faded sepia hue. The sounds mute, movements slow to a halt, and soon, all that's left around them is the Forest of Dreams.

... ]

[fallingsand]

That shouldn't be a problem. We can find something like that here in the city, I'm sure of it.

[ That's right, no wizardry going on here. Just two ladies talking about a late-night picnic. ]

cw broken bones

[revengier]

[ He shakes his head. ]

No. I wouldn't mind.

[ To him, it's only fair. Preventing Ahito from seeing something like this would be dishonest in some way, at least to Kurapika, so he sees no reason to do so. He motions for them to stop at the edge of one of the cliffs overlooking the gorge down below, and if he remembers correctly, this should be a good spot that will keep them out of the din of battle.

After all... Kurapika knows the cadence of this battle, each and every movement memorized from the way that it haunts his dreams. They stop at the edge of one of the cliffs just as a slightly younger version of Kurapika lands on the dirt below, a long string of chains extending from his fingers. There's some sort of aura surrounding both the chains and Kurapika, white as it radiates from the outside of his body. This is the power from his world that he mentioned—Nen.

His opponent has an aura too, ferocious and red and imposing, though that could be partially due to his height. After all, his opponent is at least eight feet tall and much bulkier than Kurapika. The moment the man lands, Kurapika aims his chains right at him and misses, striking the ground behind him as he runs toward Kurapika.

"Strike first to win!"

He lands that hit, surprising Kurapika with a strike that knocks him back several feet, the sheer power of it reverberating through the earth as Kurapika uses his arm to dodge it. There's a moment where the man looks satisfied, as if he's surely won, when Kurapika emerges from the dust brushing off his clothes.

"Was that punch the best you've got?" Kurapika's voice is cool and collected as the man balks in surprise... just for a moment, because he laughs soon after. His aura surges as he charges toward Kurapika again, but this time Kurapika seems prepared for it. He dodges, leading into a few moments where he has the advantage against his much larger opponent—a punch to the back that sends him surging forward, a kick to the head that tosses the much larger man like a rag doll, and then a leap that sends Kurapika landing on the man's back and creating a crater in the earth. But that doesn't mean he's overpowering his foe either, he's quick to recover, and they once again find themselves in a standoff.

"Damn, he keeps darting around. But..."

"I'll regret not using that chance to chain you up?" There's a cruel sort of smile on Kurapika's face, a look that really doesn't suit him. "Stop making excuses and give me your best shot. You're wasting my time."

That gets his opponent fired up and his aura surges once again, creating an oppressive atmosphere that reaches the two of them up on top of the cliff, and it almost feels like they've been weighed down by it. After all, it's not the sort of aura you forget easily.

He punches the earth, creating a layer of dust that provides a smoke screen and allows him to finally get a hit on Kurapika... leading to a sickening crack that's telling of broken bones. Even from this angle, the dust having traveled up far enough to obscure their own vision and potentially cause them to choke on the air they breathe in, it's easy to see that Kurapika's arm has been shattered almost entirely. ]

[1145pm]

[ Day comes and stands before him, and Tatara's expression twists. He's trying to smile.

It's okay. He genuinely believes that, and he tries to show it. But it's hard.

The white-haired stranger continues on a tirade about who he is, what he's doing, but Tatara pays him no mind. Instead, he speaks over him— ]

I'm just sad I never got to give her the footage for her birthday... [ His voice is quiet, his tone wavers slightly. ]

[revengier]

[ Where does he want to do this...? Hm.

That bench right over there will do. Kurapika gestures towards it. ]

Right over here is fine. Sit down.

[ Unfortunately, Mika will not be receiving the deluxe makeup counter experience here, not as Kurapika is unceremoniously pulling what he needs out of a little pouch stuffed into his bag. ]

[revengier]

[ He'd be right about the roots in martial arts, as that's where Kurapika has borrowed a lot of his hand to hand combat practices from. ]

...I wasn't playing. I was testing my abilities.

[ Is that better or worse, really? Tamping down his emotions enough that he has no issues with goading his opponent into using his full strength just so he can see what happens and how he might need to adjust rather than outright toying with him?

That thought sits with the Kurapika standing by Khun's side as the younger Kurapika withdraws, landing on a clifftop opposite the real Kurapika and Khun. He lifts his hand, stating that he's able to hide the presence of his power. That prompts his opponent to try to move... only to find out he can't.

He's quite literally chained in place. There's a back and forth about powers, talked about in terms and phrases that Kurapika has only somewhat explained to Khun just due to its complicated nature, but what he can gather? Kurapika purposefully obscured the type of power he had just for this very moment. In other words—

"My bluff just paid off. While you were making empty threats, my chains were already wrapped around your body." And each of those hits? Those were moments Kurapika took advantage of to slowly wind his chains around the other man's body. Kurapika pulls, tugging him forward and knocking him off balance just enough to make him stumble, but not so much that he falls to the ground. There's an eerie calmness to his demeanor as he does so, as if he's testing his opponent rather than taunting him.

This is an assessment.

"You've been captured." There's a stillness to his voice as he says so, and his posture matches, a cool calmness as he watches his opponent try to work out why he's losing this battle. "I see you're having trouble understanding. Let me illuminate this for you before I send you to the other side."

With his free hand, Kurapika removes the contacts in his eyes, revealing an eerily bright red. This red is different than the red of his affliction, only covering his irises rather than the entirety of his eyes. These are the real Scarlet Eyes.

His opponent perks up in understanding, if only just a little. "Those eyes. I remember them, there were a bunch of them out in the middle of nowhere. The boss really liked those eyes." He laughs. "They were pretty strong! So, you're a survivor? Then let's see what's stronger—your grudge or my power!"

Kurapika frowns, spitting out that he'll never be able to break the chains wrapped around him. And the man tries, attempting to summon up his aura in the same way he had before, when it had come easily to him. The surge of oppressive power that's meant to come, however, simply... doesn't. He falters back a few steps, sweating from the futile effort and looking confused.

"When my eyes turn Scarlet, I become a Specialist. I wield full control over every category of Nen."

And in a one-on-one fight? That means he has full advantage, which he demonstrates by immediately healing the shattered bones in his arm with one of his chains. Within seconds, it's as if he hadn't been hit at all.

There's a reason he chose a one-on-one fight, too, and the opponent currently wrapped in his chains. Kurapika has no problem revealing this information to the man either, and that he'd picked the strongest member of the Phantom Troupe for a reason—to see if he could truly break out of his Chain Jail through physical strength alone. And, as the man struggles against the chains...

That certainly proves that none of them will be able to break them. ]

[troublereduction]

[ Indeed, if Tatara won't pay the stranger any mind, Day won't either. He watches Tatara's face, trying his best to keep his own expression neutral and failing. This...does not seem like Tatara has managed to reach a peaceable conclusion. Who would, with a death in these circumstances?

So he ends up asking, quietly: ]

Do you want a hug, Tatara? [ Because Day doesn't know what else he can offer. ]

[fallingsand]

[ Bruno could argue this point further. Like, where else was he getting blood from? Could Mika even have animal blood? Should he have hit up a butcher? He has questions, Mika! Questions!

But first, the tea. ]

C'mon, let's get to the kitchen before Shinji finds it.

[ And Bruno also gets himself banned from the kitchen. Go, go, go. Admittedly, he does fumble a step on the way down the stairs, but he'll catch himself against the bannister before anything terrible happens. It's fine. He's fine! Onward, to the kitchen!

Where there will, in fact, be two cups of "tea". One is real tea and it smells like it, sure enough, and the other isn't quite as full but is most definitely blood. It still smells like blood, too. ]

I, uh, swapped the tastes, but not the smells. I. I wasn't sure if it smelling like mint would make you nervous or something.

[lighthaus]

[ khun slowly settles back into the real world, looking out at the sea of trees around them. they haven't really gone anywhere at all, but in a land of magic do they really need to in order for it to be real?

he looks over at tatara, glances down at their still joined hands and lets out a sigh of relief. they're still together. ]

Are you cold? [ tatara's still likely huddled up against him anyway, but this his way of asking if he wants a hug. ]

[revengier]

[ Ah. Well, so much for not being seen, though it seems like Solomon escapes this particular fate. Given that this is his memory, it makes sense.

Kurapika edges himself out of the shadows, but he thinks approaching the desk right now would be the wrong move, so he largely stays put as he sinks down onto his knees to seem less imposing. His frame may be relatively slight and his height just a little below average, but he knows his serious face offsets all of that. So, Kurapika tries to make his expression somewhat less severe, though whether he's successful or not in that remains to be seen. ]

I won't hurt you.

[ His voice is low, hushed so that those outside don't hear him, but it carries nevertheless in the stillness of the room. ]

[fallingsand]

[ He shakes his head. Is it, though? Really? ]

C'mon.

[ Without much more explanation, he'll turn and lead Ahito up the winding way to the house that once sit up high on a hill, overlooking the entire valley. It's the worst hit of all the buildings they've seen. It isn't only abandoned but thoroughly destroyed. ]

This is... my family's house... Casita.

[ The magical house he's mentioned before. ]

If it's like this, then the Miracle that powered it, that kept this place safe, it's dead, and that's the last thing I remember happening. Casita falling apart, dying along with the Miracle. I don't see how we can fix this.

[1145pm]

[ In the few seconds that follow the fading of the scene, Tatara stares ahead, like Mikoto still sits in front of him. His mouth is still open, the half-formed words on his tongue dying in the cold of the North.

Khun's words draw him back, and he looks to him. The expression on his face is...complicated.

Wordlessly, he steps into Khun's space and wraps his arms around his middle. He presses his face into the side of his neck, squeezing his eyes shut.

So, yes. The answer is yes. ]

I... [ He sighs, breath shaky. ] I've never felt warmer in my life...

[ He's just. Overwhelmed. ]

[troublereduction]

Have you eaten manastones yet? ...And well, if you have, what's like?

[ Because besides the ones they've picked up here, he still has that sack of manastones in his room that he hasn't decided what to do about just yet. ]

[1145pm]

[ The stranger eventually leaves, leaving dream-Tatara alone on the cold concrete to bleed out. He reaches for his phone, makes a phone call, and distressed voices come from the other end.

The real Tatara's eyes lower to look at Day. He bites his lip, keeping his tears back, and gives a small nod.

Please. ]

[lighthaus]

[ he wraps his arms around tatara snugly, holding him tight against him. ]

Yeah? That means that jacket is worth all of the feathers they stuffed into it then, good. [ a little bit of a joke, he's not honestly great at comfort because it was never given to him. ]

I'm happy I got to meet them. [ in whatever way it was, he's still immensely grateful. ]

[impacter]

[While Tatara's eyes are on Solomon, Solomon's eyes are on Ibuki. Only Ibuki. Tired, mournful. Bracing.

There's a flare of magic, one that Tatara can feel in his own body like it had emerged from himself without any effort at all - an echo, of what the phantom Solomon does without even moving. Lucifer has wavered at the site of the grimoire, and it is enough for the sorcerer to snap the spell that binds him, the outreaching of one hand all that is needed to free Ibuki as well, who stumbles back down to the ground coughing for breath.

Wow, Lucifer. Did you lose your composure?

The demon sneers in his direction as Solomon skirts his way over to Ibuki to stand between them, his voice lowering as he speaks over his shoulder to his apprentice.

Are you okay?
I could have handled that on my own, you know.
Haha... sorry for robbing you of the chance, then.

You feel a rush of pride at their confidence.

Thirteen tosses the grimoire. Ibuki catches it. The demons in the room are frenzied to a panic. Some yell at Thirteen for not maintaining a neutral status. She just shrugs and says to stuff it. It doesn't surprise you. Thirteen always walked her own path.

Well, now. Things have gotten interesting. So.

What are you going to do, Ibuki?

You know what you want them to say, even as they hold the book out in front of them. But it is never your choice. You are here to guide. To assist. Not to act on their behalf.

...

And yet, you still feel your chest constrict, as they lower the book from a protective hold.

...I won't.

I love all of you.

Of course they do. They always have. It's that enormous heart you love so much about them.

They hold the grimoire out to Lucifer. Your fear climbs.

Ibuki--

Lucifer stares down at them, wings still spread, still furious... but laced with deep confusion and hurt. Do they understand what they're doing?

...

There are more important things than this.

More important things than control, in the situation they're in? It unsettles and confuses the demons. Thirteen looks baffled.

Solomon's fear could not be higher. But he merely watches, eyes flicking to Lucifer. So he does not see, and he cannot stop, when they say:

I promise--

The rest of the statement feels so distant. The reason a blur. Because what matters to you isn't what they just told a demon. It's what they just did to themselves.

Your heart jumps into your throat, and you hear Thirteen start forward. The demons don't react. They don't know.

And just as the promise leaves Ibuki's lips, their entire body locks up, skin going deathly pale, as they crumple straight to the ground.

Solomon moves forward. Of course he does. The master is responsible for the apprentice, his apprentice, his...

Thirteen shoves him aside. She barks at the demons who now start to swarm. The sound is rushing through your ears like a river, with the pound of your heart. No one can rouse them. They're fading, Thirteen says. And Lucifer, of all people present, is the one that immediately grabs them in his arms and shouts for attention, for people to follow.

That ache in your heart only grows as you follow along in suit. Their love for the brothers, always warm for the brothers, always present for the brothers, even now. This beautiful, wonderful part of them, chosen over instruction and warning. Chosen over the good of humanity. That heart you love so much.

The memory starts to muddle. A pale body laid down onto a bed. A blessing attempted, with no response. A deep knowledge that, in all of the knowledge within the Fountain, there is no knowledge of the Fountain itself... nor of the curse it places. There is no way to break it. It's nearly impossible.

But you will try, you say. You promise you will find a way. No matter how impossible.

Because you love them.

Even if, with that loving and open heart, they will never, ever, love you back.

---

The memory fades gently, an empty chasm, away from the bedroom and the body and back to the endless white. Solomon's expression falls. Tired. Incredibly tired.

But with an exhale, he gestures for Tatara to follow, his voice even and cold.]

...Come. We shouldn't stay.

[leewards]

Silly sage, heheh. Why would I need to transform when I already am one?

But since you asked so enthusiastically... [He turns away from the camera and hunches over, working quickly so Tatara doesn't have time to peek that camera around and reveal his face for future generations. When he turns back around, there are two little balls of snow in his hand, stacked atop one another as a snowman.]

There you go.

cw violence/blood, etc

[revengier]

That's right.

[ It isn't a question, but Kurapika confirms anyway. Revenge is what drives him, what keeps him going, what makes him get out of bed. Or, well, it used to.

He can't help but feel, now, as he watches the fight down below, a disconnect between the version of himself in the past and the one standing next to Day. Has he really changed that much in just under two months...?

But the fight continues, the Kurapika down below rushing towards his opponent with a punch powerful enough that his fist digs into the man's abdomen, causing blood to spill forth from his mouth and onto the dirt.

"It looks as though my enhanced fist is slightly stronger than your physical brawn," Kurapika remarks, almost mechanically. This is an important observation, one that will serve him well. "This is valuable information. I can beat every member of the Troupe barehanded, provided I've chained them." He moves the chains around his opponent, momentarily constricting them around his body before easing their grip just a bit. "Tell me everything you know."

Silence. After a moment, Kurapika aims another punch towards just underneath his ribs, forcing up more blood.

"Where are the others?"

"Kill me."

Kurapika's expression darkens, his mouth turning down into an angry frown, as he surges forward and aims for the man's arm instead. The bones crush under his fist and his opponent grits his teeth.

"What abilities do they have?"

"Kill me."

Calm, quiet, resolute. He'd rather Kurapika kill him than give away any real answers, and that prompts Kurapika to hit him again. Again. Again. Again. Each strike breaks and fractures new bones, damages organs, forces him to expel more blood until Kurapika is covered in it—it's on his hair, his clothes, his face.

Finally, Kurapika steps back, breaths heavy and uneven. His voice trembles and he doesn't mean to yell, yet it happens anyway.

"It makes me sick... The sensation left on my hand. The grating sound of each strike. The smell of blood. It all throws my senses into a disarray. How can you do these things, yet feel and think nothing at all?! Answer me!"

"Kill me."

That seems to be the last straw, as Kurapika extends a chain that pierces him in the heart, wrapping around the organ. It's a conditional bond, the sort that will allow him to live just a little bit longer if he obeys Kurapika's order. If he doesn't, the bond activates, crushing his heart and killing him. He must answer a question and answer it honestly. Kurapika's question is the same as it has been: Where are the others?

And just like that, his opponent laughs.

"Die, fool."

The rule is broken, and his opponent is dead.

He falls in a large heap in the dirt, and Kurapika walks over to a spot on the ground where he left his phone and makes a phone call. It's a one-sided conversation, but it sounds like he's checking in on his employer. It's quick enough, and he hangs up, an empty look in his eyes as he regards the result of his revenge.

Then, he grabs the shovel he brought and begins to dig a hole, every movement mechanical, as if he can't allow his mind or his emotions to be in the moment. But he has to do this. Everyone deserves a proper burial, to be honored in some fashion after their death. And as he digs underneath the moonlight, the scenery around them begins to melt away and shift back into the forest. ]