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

[troublereduction]

[ In another circumstance, maybe Day would be more conscious about boundaries, or think twice about suddenly reaching over for Phil when he knows Phil is shy and prone to being antsy. But he also knows Phil will probably try to look away, or maybe even run, and he doesn't want that right now.

He reaches over to grab Phil's face, hands carefully cupping it and forcing Phil to look him in the eyes. His gaze is calm but intense—not serene in the way he would want to be, but how can he stay serene when Phil may as well have he's more useful dead? ]

Phil. I ain't eatin' your mana stone. And I ain't lettin' you die. I don't care if you're useful or not, I just want you happy.

[mirristry]

[Day isn't wrong about the fact that Phil's first instinct is and has always been to flee. Ever since the picnic, he'd kept running and running until at last there was nowhere left for him to go, nowhere to run in order to escape the weight of reality and his own sins. And so, with no paths left to him, he'd become little more than a wounded animal simply awaiting its inevitable death, because when he looked ahead he saw nothing.

He still sees nothing. So why is Day so insistent about something that Phil knows simply isn't possible?]

You...

[Why? he wants to ask. You could be stronger, just like you want. His life could serve a purpose, bring something good for once instead of more harm.

But there's something gentle about those hands holding his face steady to keep his gaze locked with Day's even as they refuse to release him (he knows the starlight is still there, even though he can't see it right now... he wishes he could see it again, but that's just his own selfishness at work once more); out of instinct he lifts his own hands to Day's wrists as though he's going to try to pull those hands away, yet for some reason he can't bring himself to do so and just freezes instead, no real force behind his grip.

Despite everything, there's a tiny, quiet part of him that doesn't want Day to let go.]

[troublereduction]

[ Maybe Day understood because he's familiar with wanting to dodge one's troubles. He took to the path of the Hunted Maiden a little too easily, perhaps. His gaze softens a little at Phil's reaction, because even now Phil looks at him like he can't figure out why Day would want him to remain in the mortal coil.

It aches more than Day thought it would, and he wishes he knew how to convey to Phil how much he matters to him and have him believe it. This...guilt, it doesn't come from nowhere, and Day knows on some gut level it probably isn't entirely unfounded, either. If it was, then maybe this would have been more straightforward. ]

...I meant it, you know. I want you to live. There ain't any point if I get stronger off of your corpse. [ He doesn't let go of Phil's face. Even brushes his thumbs against the skin, a little.

And...he will allow himself this moment of selfishness and vulnerability if it'll maybe help Phil understand: ] ...Please don't leave me behind yet.

[ "Yet", because the knowledge that there is an appointed hour for Phil hangs over both of them. Even so, he doesn't want it to hurry any sooner. ]

[mirristry]

["Please don't leave me behind yet."

Those words bring a wash of uncomfortably-familiar pain, an ache he'd long tried to bury and pretend that it didn't hurt as long as he didn't acknowledge it. Phil had always been the one left behind, so what had he done in response? Run away and leave others behind in his own wake, becoming the very thing he'd hated so much.

In the end, he's just trying to run away again, but this time it's from someone who has shown him over and over again that he doesn't want to let Phil disappear from his life. Phil still doesn't understand why, and he's not sure he ever will, but the one thing he knows is that he doesn't want to see this look on Day's face ever again.]

Day...

[The hands on his face are so warm even in this bitter cold. He wishes he could keep this warmth for himself, feel it in a context that isn't a desperate attempt at persuasion like this is. Instead, he just shifts his grip and moves his own hands up to cover Day's, still too shy to grasp them or do anything beyond just let them rest there.]

... I'm sorry. It isn't that I want to leave you-- I just...

[If he can't be loved, then maybe he can at least be useful.]

[troublereduction]

[ It's a...relief? Yeah, he'll use that word. It's a relief that Phil hasn't tried to push him away. Day lets Phil cover his hands, and a part of him wishes he could just lean in and let their foreheads touch. Some kind of comfort for the pain Phil seems to be in. But even he can tell that would be overstepping a line, and he isn't sure if it'd do anything besides frighten Phil. ]

Just...?

[ He's giving Phil a chance to voice whatever thought he has. ]

[mirristry]

[Phil swallows hard, breathes deep, tries to shape the things he wants to say into words. But they just swirl around in his mind like mist, unable to be grasped, and for a moment his head suddenly feels like it's spinning just slightly--

-- and when his vision clears, he finds himself standing in one of the empty rooms on the Heimdallr. His first thought is bewilderment as to how they'd somehow made it back to Tir Na Nog; his second thought is a sudden almost sickening realization that the room isn't in fact empty after all.

"So, Phil. What am I? I know I'm the third Ix Nieves, but to what extent am I the same as the first one?" It doesn't take the full three sentences for Phil's blood to run cold. Why would it, when that entire conversation is seared so indelibly into his memory?

He hears himself admit to creating Ix - to being the only one responsible for his creation, much to Ix's shock. To rewriting Ix's memories to conceal the things he didn't want to be remembered. To molding him into the Ix he'd wanted to have rather than the Ix he should truly have been.

He hears himself narrate the events of that day in the Glasswater Woods, where he'd let his petty jealousy get the better of him and lead him to take the single action he regrets most in his life. (Was he really any different from the monsters that had attacked them...?)

And then he hears Ix's quiet, disbelieving laughter, accusing Phil of having the audacity to rob him and Mileena of their memories and emotions over something so stupid. He doesn't hear anything after that, because his only response had been silence. What excuse could he have possibly given in the face of that?

... what excuse can he possibly give now to the man standing right in front of him, still holding his face so gently?]

[troublereduction]

[ Day had known that the forest made people...hallucinate, and gave them visions, but this is not how he would have expected it to play out.

What follows is probably one of the greatest tests of focus and willpower Day's found himself going through; he doesn't look away from Phil, but he still listens to the conversation happening around him. When memories are brought up, it takes every inch of focus to keep his grip from tightening out of reflex, though unfortunately there's a flicker of shock across his face at Phil's admission to tampering with them.

But he listens, and as it goes on, the harder it becomes to read the expression on Day's face. He doesn't seem angry, or even upset, and maybe that's terrifying in its own way, because he certainly doesn't seem particularly happy about it either. It's the kind of expression specifically meant to hide what Day may be thinking.

It stays that way, even though his hands are still holding Phil's face so gently. ]

...Phil.

[ Because they cannot stay here in silence, after all that. ]

[mirristry]

[The entire time, Phil has kept his eyes averted, far too frightened to look at Day's face when he's afraid of what he's sure he will see there. Judgment, of course, because who wouldn't? Anger, surely, because how dare Phil have the ego to alter someone's very essence like that? Disappointment, perhaps, because no doubt Day had thought better of Phil. It's the possibility of seeing disgust there that he fears the most, however...

But in the end he looks, since it's only fair. It's only fair that he meet Day's eyes and accept whatever may be waiting for him there. And when he does, the absolute neutrality of that expression terrifies him in ways he hasn't felt since he'd fled to Sellund after the incident in the woods.

Silently, Phil lowers his own hands back down to his sides.]

... please let go of me.

[It's quiet and resigned, yet at the same time so fragile in its desperate attempt to hold back the tide of emotion.]

[troublereduction]

[ In some sense, Day is still trying to figure out what to feel, or more accurately, how to express what he feels. He isn't angry, despite everything (for better or worse, if he couldn't muster anger when his life fell to pieces, he certainly wasn't going to for this, warranted or not).

He...is upset, because some of this cleaves surprisingly close in ways he didn't think were possible from someone who wasn't also Chosen by a Maiden (but that is the wonder of different worlds, it seems).

He's disappointed, though he isn't sure if it's in Phil, specifically, or just the fact that all beings capable of love will inevitably do something unwise or terrible because of love. It might be a bit of both. For that same reason, he cannot be disgusted, because love being beautiful and ugly is as axiomatic as water being wet.

But more than those things, he wants to understand Phil. ...Or rather, he wants to know if he isn't just making the wrong assumptions. But before he can ask the question he wants to: ]

If I do, will you still be here?

[ Or will he have just let Phil slip through his fingers, like trying to catch the rain within one's hands? ]

[mirristry]

[Phil wants to run. It's an instinct so ingrained in him by now that the desire surfaces without conscious thought; his muscles tense in preparation to turn and flee, as though he would ever have any hope of being able to escape safely in these foreign, dangerous woods. But he would just be running to his death (where would he even go when he's already run out of places to flee, real and metaphorical?) and he knows it.

There's nowhere left for him to go. The sigh he breathes is deep, catching slightly on what might be a sob threatening to break free.]

Yes.

[It's more an admission of defeat than anything else, though. Even so... somewhere deep within his heart there's the tiniest flicker of hope born from the fact that Day hasn't yet told Phil to get out of his sight. As long as he can hold tight to that, he can will himself to endure whatever will come next.]

[troublereduction]

[ Even though Phil says he won't run, Day doesn't let go. Not because he doesn't believe in Phil, but because he hears that sigh and the telltale sign that Phil could cry again, and he can't bring himself to let go. He still wants to give Phil warmth, for what little comfort it may bring now. ]

I wanna ask you somethin'.

[ And it's phrased in a way where he's not asking permission to ask this question. He pauses, though whether it's because he's trying to think of how to ask it or he's letting Phil brace himself is debatable.

What he asks is probably not what Phil was expecting: ]

Did you love them? ...Do you still love them?

[mirristry]

[That brings Phil up short. He freezes, his own eyes going wide and his lips parting just slightly as he sucks in a sudden, sharp breath. How had Day...

But he doesn't even get to finish that thought before the emotions hit him like a tidal wave. Yes, he had envied Ix, he had wanted everything Ix had, and he had hated him. He had wanted to be Ix. Yet at the same time, he'd...]

... yes...

[He'd loved Ix, just as he'd loved Mileena.]

I... I love them both...

['Love,' because even after everything, after Ix's death at the hands of the Bifrost Empire and Mileena subconsciously trying to push him away out of guilt for what had happened on the day of the picnic, the flame of his feelings still burns bright.

His voice cracks on the word, the sight of Day's face in front of him turning blurry from tears. He understands now, deep down, why he feels the way he does about this man, and the guilt at the idea that on some level he's been seeking a replacement for Ix makes his heart twist painfully. He really is a fool...]

[troublereduction]

[ Ah. There's the answer Day was looking for. He had guessed based on what he heard, what he knew about Phil (perhaps entirely too much faith in Phil himself), and the things he'd learned about mortal nature while working for the Division of Serenity. Hearing Phil say it just meant Day hadn't misunderstood what might have been going on.

That is why he lets Phil's tears wet his hands, and the look he has is, perhaps, a little lonely. He won't claim to understand someone he's never met and has only known through someone else's memories, but...perhaps wishfully, he thinks he might understand what Ix was thinking back then, at least a little.

(And he wonders if Phil sees a bit of Ix in him too, but—that's fine. Day can't say he doesn't see a bit of Sparrow in Phil, sometimes.) ]

Then...I think I understand. [ Why Phil did what he did, and why he won't hate Phil for it. ]

[mirristry]

[Even with his vision blurred by tears as it is, Phil catches that lonely, wistful expression on Day's face. Though he doesn't know the reason behind it - can't possibly comprehend why Day would be making a face like that after seeing those particular memories - he doesn't need to know in order to recognize that it makes his heart ache in the same place that it still aches for Ix.

And it's selfish and horrible and he hates himself for it even as Day's thumbs stroke his tears away in a gesture so gentle it only serves to make them flow harder. He wants to take a step forward, to move closer (would Day embrace him, or is that simply his own selfish delusion?)...

... but he takes a step back instead, because in the end he is and always will be selfish.]

[troublereduction]

[ When Phil steps back, Day finds himself worrying that maybe he really had stepped past some unspoken line, but...

Selfishly, he doesn't want to just let Phil go like that. If he can't keep holding Phil's face (a gesture he finds himself wishing he could do in a happier, kinder circumstance), then he'll reach out to try taking Phil's hand into his own. ]

Phil.

[ Please let me stay close.

...But that would be too much for him to say. ]

I don't hate you.

[mirristry]

... you should.

[It is, to him, a simple fact, just as the sky is blue and water is wet. It only makes sense for everyone else to hate him as much as he hates himself.

Yet even as he says this, when that hand closes around his, he can't bring himself to pull away (all he'd ever wanted was for someone to reach out their hand to him). All of the fight has gone out of him at this point; he's too emotionally drained to protest further, especially to someone who seems so hellbent on not letting him go in more than one sense of the word.

(And, in the depths of his heart, that selfishness wants Day to keep clinging to him just like this.)]

[troublereduction]

Maybe.

[ Because understanding doesn't change the fact that Phil has done wrong. If Day's gut is right, probably more than just what was talked about too, because love rarely even just stops short of making it everyone else's problem. ]

But I can't. ...I won't.

[ That is also true for him too. He gently squeezes Phil's hand. ]

We can go whenever you're ready. [ Day's magic will hold up. ]

[mirristry]

[There's a long moment of silence as Phil is at war with himself...

... then at last gives that hand a very tentative squeeze back. If Day isn't going to let go of his hand - if he really, truly thinks he means what he says - then Phil is going to hold tight to it for as long as he can, even knowing how much more it's going to hurt when Day finally and inevitably changes his mind.]

All right. We should continue looking for the stones.

[They have a job to do, after all.]

[troublereduction]

[ True to what Day insinuated, he's not going to let go of Phil's hand, instead holding onto it and guiding Phil as they...well, Day isn't sure if it matters when this is probably a shared hallucination, but he steps out of this "room" on the Heimdallr. Maybe if they keep walking, they'll be back to seeing reality.

But as they walk, the floor turns into something wooden, and the hallway turns into the dim backstage of a theatre. The path leads to a stage in the distance, and Day's steps slow down as recognition settles in. ]

Oh. [ As in, "oh shit". ]

...This ain't gonna be pleasant. [ Which he says because he just knows he's not going to have any other say in what will most likely follow. ]

[mirristry]

[Day doesn't need to say anything more for Phil to understand exactly what he means the moment the floor changes form beneath their feet. He's not sure whether to be relieved that this isn't a locale he recognizes, or concerned by Day's reaction to it, but instinct leads him to move just that much closer-- not because he's afraid of what they might see, but rather because he wants to try to offer what meager comfort he can in this situation, the same way Day had for him.

(He doubts what he can offer will amount to much at all.)]

Should I close my eyes?

[He knows it would only do so much good when he can still hear everything that is going on, but somehow it only feels fair to ask.]

[troublereduction]

It ain't anythin' bloody. [ ...He finds himself wishing he could lean into Phil being close, for all the good it'll do for him. ] Just...

[ ... ]

It'll prob'ly upset you still. [ Day merely looks resigned, however. He'll let Phil decide if that means "yes" or "no". ]

[mirristry]

Will it upset you if I don't look away?

[Because to Phil, that's the most important part, not whether he himself will be upset by seeing it. If Day had the courage to stare straight at Phil's ugliness without looking away, doing the same thing for Day in return is the very least that Phil can do.]

I don't want to see anything you don't wish me to.

[troublereduction]

[ ...

Day could almost find this funny, if only because this world somehow keeps surprising him. First time anyone's asked him this sort of question, especially since he figured the question of whether or not he'd be upset simply wasn't relevant. He's already going to be upset just reliving this again, anything else is simply just extras sprinkled on top.

He probably shouldn't feel grateful that Phil asked, but he does, just a little. ]

Nah. I'm more worried 'bout how you'll feel after.

[ A beat. ]

...Try not to blame yourself, 'kay? [ He has a sneaking suspicion some of this is going to hit in an unexpected way that only Phil will get. ]