lunaecalamitas | thousand dreams, lotus boats upon the waters

thousand dreams, lotus boats upon the waters

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Oh, this is... A younger Robin, perhaps? Or, if he assumes that story wasn't just a story, the human the dragon dreamed it was? ]

Yeah, uh. Sorry 'bout that. [ Day is just along for the ride now, apparently, despite never actually having bought a ticket for it. He won't comment even as he watches, however. ]

[ "what ... what happened?"

younger ... yes. not the most obviously so, as the current robin doesn't look his true age, maybe seems a few years older at most, but... ]

... I know how this all goes. [ says robin, his expression carefully blank. ] Watch, if you must. I'll attempt to maintain watch on our surroundings despite the illusion.

[ the difference is perhaps made more starkly apparent when the two of them speak shortly after one another. there's a distinct sense of sincerity to the younger, a sense of earnest feeling not yet worn away into the jaded detachment so often found in the older. he wears his stress freely. he wears his frustration clearly. he blanks his expression well but not nearly as well as his older counterpart, forcing on himself a calm he doesn't remotely feel in order to answer the question asked him.

and day knows that, because there's feeling, now, leaching through the walls. these are someone's private chambers, and they carry with them a lack of the warmth or comfort one would expect from such a space. instead there's the sense of a place that should be safe but isn't anymore; the uncertainty of not knowing where to go from here. he cannot be calm when his thoughts are racing, rushing through possibility after possibility.

it's the sensation of he should have done better, should have been able to plan for this eventuality somehow. what is he good for if not his ability to do just that? a whirlwind of thoughts on the multitude of ways things might progress from here, the fallout sure to come, but nothing to change what's already been done.

"... right." fingers curl, gripping at the sheets before releasing them. "they came through a fault in the castle wall, behind the maple grove. their targets were— well. i'm sure you can guess.

"you were gravely wounded in their initial attack, which is why you shouldn't be sitting up—" says robin, reaching out a hand to forestall chrom's response. "it was all i could do to force back the ones who ambushed you and keep you from bleeding out until reinforcements arrived and the healers found us. ultimately, we drove them to retreat, but not in time to prevent them taking the emblem."

"... and emm?"

gods, he's going to have to say it, isn't he?

"... i'm ... i'm so sorry, chrom." ]

[ Oh. Funny how this younger Robin is, in a lot ways, how he felt when he first started going on missions and he wasn't terribly good at being serene. AndtThis is a feeling that he's had before, though he often tries to not dwell on it. When you're tied to fate and can foresee possibilities up to a point, it is easy to think this whenever sometimes goes awry and you can't easily iron out those creases.

He puts that aside, because something more painful is unfolding right here. Day tries to maintain a neutral face, but his brows start to crease. ]

...She's gone.

[ like a script playing out, day speaks what's been already written. the younger robin's voice overlaps with his as the words ring out in unison, sounding far too loud in the darkened, candlelit room.

(there's no light outside the window. it's late. everyone else must have already retired to their quarters.)

the man in the bed makes a wounded noise, the ragged ends of it turning into a growl that sounds like it could be a sob. "damn them... damn those monsters! spineless cowards! why...? emm would have never hurt anyone! everything she did, she did because she thought people deserved peace, no matter who they were... and look what it's gotten her!"

"chrom..." you don't know what to say to the man in front of you. you don't know what you can say. he wears anger, righteous and grieving, like a shroud, working up and stoking his own fury because the only possible alternative is despair.

"they'll pay for this. they made it clear the only thing they'll be happy with is escalation when they killed the one person in ylisse who wanted to negotiate. if gangrel thinks i won't be willing to march on their capital—"

this. this, you have plans for. routes of invasion drafted up in sleepless nights and just in cases as border tensions had continued to build; plans to weather siege; plans to try to protect or secure the people from towns that would undoubtedly be caught up in skirmishes along the border; plans for an incisive strike to the heart of another nation—

and yet

you don't raise your voice, but the feeling of it is present anyway. you don't know how to drag him back from this precipice, but— "chrom. listen to me. look at me. do you hear yourself? are you listening to yourself? did you hear a single word i've said earlier? if you intend to march on plegia, then know that we'll follow you, but you're not doing so with those injuries."

robin leans forward, honey-colored eyes shining bright in the candlelight, hands taking one of chrom's into his own.

"i had to send lissa to bed earlier because she and maribelle both wore themselves out taking care of you. she refused me more than once because she didn't want to leave your side. they don't think ... your injuries will ever quite heal in full. i might not have trained as deeply in it as them, but i know white magic too, and i agree with them.

"beyond that ... you just ... you told me about your father, not all that long ago. about how he was a cruel man, whose brutal war caused so much suffering for both sides. you said you didn't want to be like him. if you invade plegia now, don't you think that's exactly what gangrel wants? another bloodthirsty, warmongering exalt to feed into whatever propaganda he's been spreading, no better than the man he descended from?"

it seems, for a moment, like chrom will argue, will try to rise from bed anyway via sheer force of will. the moment passes, and suddenly he seems much smaller in defeat, swallowing before he speaks again. his eyes are anguished, lost.

(they're both young. younger than day by several years, if one were to estimate.)

"... i'm not emm either. i can't ... i'm not even half the person she was, robin." ]

[ They're both young. Maybe as old as Day was when destiny came for him, or a little older than that. So it's painful to watch the emotions that emerge here, in this memory, and the talk about war and injury and...

... "The prince's sister, leader of her halidom, pacifist to the end, who spoke purely of peace between two countries with an ancient animosity between them, was slaughtered in her sleep."

Ah.

Day doesn't say anything. He just watches. ]

[ "no one's ... no one's expecting you to be her, chrom. really ... alone, i don't think any one of us can be half the person your sister was."

i'm sorry. i should have done better. i should have had a plan for if they'd ever breached the walls. this isn't about him. robin swallows the thoughts down, expression a little watery.

"you don't have to be emmeryn," he says instead, letting his weight settle, still holding chrom's hand in his. "you can still be true to yourself. you can still give people hope in the ways that you know how. but if you want to fight for your sister's sake, for her ideals... i'll be by your side. maybe alone, neither of us is enough. but maybe together, we can try to be something more."

chrom's mouth works for a moment to put together words and fails. "you say that, but ... i want to believe you." a tendon pulses in the line of his throat, something tight in his jaw and the entirety of his expression as he looks away toward the wall. "i want to believe you, but i'm so angry, robin. i can't stand it. even now, all i want to do is ... what if i'm not worthy of her ideals? what if i drag you down with me?"

robin shakes his head. "i know you. if you aren't worthy, you'll keep at it until you are. if you fall, i'll be there to pull you back up. you'll have my support, mine and everyone else's."

chrom is reckless. worryingly so, even if robin knows it comes from a good place. he wears his heart on his sleeve, and he can't help but to pick up strays. he cares with the entirety of his being, and that's why it hurts so much now. robin lets his eyes fall closed, lowers his head, and makes himself a promise (no more scenes like these, not again, he won't let this happen again if he can help it) as he says aloud:

"i promise you, i won't let you stray."

(and if they both should fall, well ... then they'll have done so together, at least.)

...

there's no more words after that, though the scene in the dark, candlelit room lingers a while longer. surely they must have spoken more, after, but if there's anything else to the memory it is silent, a younger robin sitting alone in solemn vigil at the bedside as a prince mourns his older sister.

(and like a solemn shadow, the current robin lingers somewhere closer to where would be the threshold to the room, expression inscrutable.) ]

[ Day almost hates how much he understands Robin's concern here because it's what Flint told him once (or twice, or any number of times) during training. Not necessarily that he was reckless, but that he cared too much for a job where one day, inevitably, he would have to make choices that other people would pay for.

After a while, Day moves to where the current Robin is standing, silent for a moment. ]

...You were even younger than I am.

And yet Emmeryn was barely over half our ages then when she took to the throne.

[ it is, in part, a bit of a diversion away from himself. his gaze is focused on nothing in particular, though it remains watching the scene regardless. if day means to say that the two in front of them are too young for what they've inherited, then the fact of the matter is that there have been younger.

... a quiet, long sigh. his arms are folded over his front. ]

Their father wasn't kind to anyone. Not to his family, not to his own countrymen, to say nothing of the country he all but razed in his crusade to wipe out the wicked infidels and heretics who would worship a fell god. It engendered him faith and loyalty in... oh, just about no one, and he was killed when Emmeryn was but maybe ten, Chrom less than half that. An uneasy peace followed, but...

[ well. ]

We were old enough to know war. All that matters is that.

[ ...

Truly, serenity is difficult no matter which world it is. ]

...You wanna go, Robin?

[ Instead of staying here and watching this, he means. ]

[ quiet again, he murmurs: ]

... Indeed, there's nothing left to see here.

[ if the illusions, or dreams, or whatever they might be are based off of his memories, then perhaps leaving the area where the younger robin himself is might be enough for them to fade away. after all, if he's sat by the bedside, then he cannot know who might or might not be outside roaming the castle still.

or perhaps the forest will use his other memories to try to sketch out the layout of the phantom castle instead? they are in chrom's room, after all. he's walked the hallways outside many times, in the life that he wasn't meant to have. ]

Walk with me, then.

[ he'll turn to leave regardless of whether day follows him immediately. crossing the threshold both is easy and yet, feels like it carries with it some sort of significance. it feels like a precipice of some sort.

the robin in that room no longer exists. he ceased to be that day at the dragon's table. and yet ...

well. no matter. the confines of memory begin to relent the further they walk down the recreated hallway, away from the room. ]

[ Day certainly has wondered when he remembers how Robin had phrased it in the story he told before. All dreams come to an end, and Robin sounded so sure that dream of being a human was firmly in the past, now. But then again, maybe it doesn't matter when the memories remain. He lingers only for a moment before he follows Robin.

As they walk further down the hallway, the stone floor...starts to give way to a wooden one, and the walls seem to disappear. In the distance, the floor seems to lead to a stage, like the kind you'd find in a large theatre. ]

...

[ indeed, all dreams eventually come to an end. this one of a time firmly lost to the present should be no different. the robin who once was, high deliverer, exalt's other half, is gone. in his place remains only robin, fell reincarnation.

... still. this is not his own dreamscape anymore, but neither is it the forest they are meant to be in.

ah. is that how it will be, then? wandering from one scene to the next, matching like for like? will the forest try to bleed them dry, or is this to be a different kind of scene?

to that end, he glances briefly back at the one following him as they walk. it's an evaluating, appraising look, not veiled in the least, intended to take day's measure of what it might be that they'll end up seeing next. ]

[ The look on Day's face is somewhere between panic and exhaustion, like he can't decide which one he ought to be and thus is attempting to split the difference. ]

...It ain't gonna be good. [ Resigned. ]

Because of course this place cannot dredge up anything that is actually pleasant, it seems.

[ does that say more about the forest or about them, though?

though that's ... quite a look for day. hm. something to set his expectations by, at least. ]

Gettin' real sick of this world pickin' at this wound, is all I'm gonna say.

[ Because it's not enough that Akira's passenger ripped it open for him and made sleep difficult for a while, it seems.

As they approach, they can see a somewhat younger Day standing on the stage, closer to a teenager than whatever maturity he has now. What follows is a hallucination more like a fever dream, or the kind of experience where you think you might be going insane because surely that's what going on instead of divine interference. It's vivid and intense, enough that for a moment you could almost believe destiny has come for you too.

The real Day is simply going to freeze up, one hand gripping his arm tight as if the pain will ground him as an old wound is opened again. ]

[ he scoffs out his agreement with the sentiment before the memory takes them both in full. a vivid fever dream, or a nightmare? if only things were truly so simple, correct? dreams, after all, promise to end one day.

the flow of battle has always made itself known to him at a glance, possibilities playing out in mind's eye from every brief appraisal of a new opponent or enemy force. things that others would not so readily see, and the responsibility of navigating through them to the end with as few casualties as possible taken.

(no more scenes like these, not again, he won't let this happen again if he can help it.)

but now, the weight of all that and more, fate and creation spinning out in all directions around them while also being unmoored, torn away from any stable foundation and set adrift to be so utterly alone ...

(and day thought to comment on how young they were.)

not a choice but a role unceremoniously thrust into. the stage is set, the actors chosen and gathered. go on. play out your assigned fates until the very end. apotheosis is not so easy a thing, is it?

at some point during the younger day's run, robin's gazes fixes itself instead on the one following him. only once the scene has progressed to the point that the younger day is finally addressed by someone aware of his existence does he speak. ]

... Destiny, it seems, is kind to no one when it comes for them.

[ (and in the midst of all that ... a name? was this current one chosen for him as well, or ...?)

addressed directly to the one who even now has to try to hold onto himself, as if even now he has to ground himself in the here and now: ]

Will you be able to continue to walk on your own?

[ It takes a long moment before Day answers, after he's taken a deep breath to steady himself. This isn't the first time he's been made to relive the worst day of his life, but it doesn't get any easier, he's found. ]

...Yeah. Just...give me a moment.

[ robin's expression is calm. impassive, neither twisting itself into the compassion or empathy he cannot rightfully offer, nor the ugly visage of pity from on high.

he would not want pity. pity does nothing to change what is and what isn't. pity implies the one offering it takes solace in the fact that they, at least, can count their blessings, that they are better off than the one who is so pitiable.

as such, he will not offer it to day, either.

perhaps subconsciously, though, his magic feeds into the hexes he's been maintaining. the subtle hint of desert heat, incongruous with castle, forest, and stage alike unfurls briefly into a few stray gusts of arid and warm air. ]

... I am the Wings of Despair. I am the Breath of Ruin. I am the inevitable end of all things, the one who awaits.

I am the Fell Dragon, Grima.

[ he'd said his name was robin, back at the beginning of all this. at this point, though, continuing to pretend the story was just a story does everyone involved a disservice. ]

A name for a name, as this forest seems to care not for what will and won't be spoken.

[ Day is personally kind of glad that Robin doesn't seem to have much of a reaction, because at least that might mean he's taking what he saw better than Day ever has his whole life. A small mercy, maybe.

...And then Robin says all that, and some things click into place for him. Ah, so this is why Day couldn't help but feel that Robin, for all he reminded Day of his colleagues in the Division of Endings, also struck him as someone who'd be an enemy of fate in the right (or wrong?) circumstance. ]

...So the story wasn't just a story.

[ Stating the obvious, but the point still stands. ]

Unfortunately not.

[ unfortunately not. ]

... Would you still rather be addressed as you have been, Joyous Day?

[ is being called 'moss' akin to tearing open this old wound again, taunting him with what cannot be, another life cut abruptly short?

is it a name better buried, or simply listened to with longing for what isn't, and never will be anymore? ]

[ Unfortunately not, indeed. ]

Yeah. Day's 'bout as real a name as the one I was given, by now. [ And perhaps surprisingly, he seems okay with it. He doesn't want to simply give "Moss" to anyone, because it represents a part of his life he can't really have again, but these days it feels less like a painful reminder and more something that just is. ] It'd be kinda awkward to use anythin' else by now.

So you say, but what you choose to be called has meaning in itself.

[ the little lost princess didn't decide to call herself 'marth' on a whim, after all.

but if that's the reasoning day wants to give he'll allow it. ]

Day it is, then. [ ... ] How are you faring?

Well, the other thing is...people keep surprisin' me with what they make of "Joyous Day".

[ There's a wry, but fond smile. ]

I think I wanna keep that.

[ But afterwards, he closes his eyes, seeming a little more thoughtful. ]

...I think I'll be okay. Ain't the first time this ridiculous world's made me relive that day.

[ ... ]

You still want me to call you "Robin"?

Edited 2024-06-09 14:50 (UTC)

... Call me whatever suits you. 'Robin' is a role I'll play for a while longer yet, and it is still my name.

[ he has never disclaimed it, and none were ever able to take it from him. not here, nor in another, distant sky. ]

thousand dreams, lotus boats upon the waters

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