fracturarpg | [mingle] the space (april).

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[mingle] the space (april).

interim mingle

( WELCOME BACK, TRAVELERS. )

There's nothing but the clatter of train tracks, and the odd feeling of almost floating.

When you wake, it's hard to tell exactly what it is that you're missing - only that you are. There are pieces that aren't quite right, even if you're not sure where those pieces would normally be. Pieces of what, exactly....? Well, if you had to put a word to it, it would be - yourself, probably. Or did you get something back recently? In addition, characters will find that they've been allowed to bring back souvenirs from this most recent trip - trinkets, nothing violent, but items that can fit in your character's pockets, whether that be sentimental or otherwise.

The place you've found yourself in is strange, certainly. It's probably worth exploring a bit. For those who have been here a while, they might notice some expansions. Though it just as easily seems that the only form of welcome or explanation that you have, comes from nothing more than a slab of marble.

It might've changed since the last time you saw it. Today it reads:

(*´ω｀)o That wasn't so bad, was it?
Hey, you know how that old song goes?
Do you believe in magic? (☆▽☆) Do ya?

Hope you found what you were looking for!

You might have changed since the last time you saw yourself too - perhaps with a new emblem on your clothes, or a portrait on your skin. In addition to that, it seems like Home Base is on the fritz again…?

It seems that suddenly and at random, characters will be able to suddenly see visions of memories that aren't their own flash before their eyes. Pieces of your lives or where you were before this will suddenly slam into other's heads, as clearly as if they experienced the event and the feelings themselves. You might have an inkling of where your memory went and what it was - but you'll need to talk it out with that person in order to recollect it in all its strength back to yourself. Don't you want to keep those precious parts of yourself? It's best if you don't fall more to pieces while you're here. (Memories that have been lost in fragments cannot be sent to others - that's more fun for the future!)

There's no need to fret that much though. You've already gone through the ordeal once, and you might be able to see results from it. Or maybe you'll get a glimpse of where you're going next. Even so, it's best that you don't get too comfortable, because there is still the unshakeable feeling:

There's still much more ahead of you.

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[ there are monsters that can steal memories back home--it isn't an altogether unusual thing--but it's a bit surprising to hear, in the space. xie lian's eyebrows raise a bit further, like he's going to ask, but the statement of the memory hits him so hard, it almost makes him dizzy.

even just the description of the plague makes xie lian's blood run cold. he doesn't flinch, but his expression changes immediately, a flicker of terror across his expression before he stops himself. a memory. it's a memory. it's been eight hundred years since the fall of xian le--the human face plague has been exterminated one way or another, not that xie lian can remember how. (he knows the cure--that features in so many of his memories just one borrowed one couldn't dare make him forget, and he doesn't think about what possibly could've made it stop.)

focus. it doesn't help to get drawn up in the past. xie lian exhales, steady after a moment, brow furrowing as he tries to delve into the painful part of his memories and pull apart the thorns, lets himself wade into the waters. eight hundred years and he feels every pinprick, every scream and cry for help. it still feels fuzzy, as he tries to recall. ]

...Xian Le. [ he says, softly, by way of explanation, eventually. the last time the name of his kingdom left his mouth it was in a different world entirely. a mafia family with an unstoppable destruction looming, too. with people hurting, suffering, and xie lian unable to help them.

...he really was useless, wasn't he? even then, even now. his hands tighten, curled into fists in his sleeves. ] The sickness is called the human face plague. It destroyed my kingdom from the inside out. If you saw a battlefield, then it was near-- it was near the end of the war with Yong'an. [ a beat. his heart hurts. ] ...near the end of Xian Le, as a whole.

[There's a sharpness in Wei Wuxian's expression as he watches Xie Lian, watches the way emotions pull at his features and how he consciously rearranges them again. He purses his lips at the mention of Xian Le, too - how could he not? It's not the same, but it's not entirely different, either. He'd had a hand once, in bringing misery to the families of Xian Le.

Now is not the time for self-flagellation or apology, though. He knows the kind of person Xie Lian is, at least to some degree. His gaze shifts for a moment, settled somewhere over Xie Lian's shoulder, before sliding back to his face.]

It did seem like things were nearing a breaking point.

[The people there. Xie Lian himself. The air was tight with tension and bent easily with ill will; that's not the sort of environment he's ever seen last long.]

You lost your temper and they weren't exactly charitable. [And while he's sympathetic to Xie Lian, he can't exactly blame those people for acting the way they had, given their situation. There's no hostility or even judgment in his tone.] Ran out looking for someone or something - you knew it was already there. I couldn't see a face or anything about it, really, but it had a very melodic laugh.

[Now there's hostility - vehemence, a sharp and bitter and biting edge. Let him stab? Let him stab.]

[ eight hundred years later, the fall of xian le is a hurtful memory, but not one he can't content with. he tries to put the pieces together, gives wei wuxian a half smile at the comment about the breaking point, more sheepish than an actual smile, apologetic. he knows. he still feels that break like it was a part of his soul, hundreds of years later. he can still remember the faces of the plague victims, begging for his help, when he could do nothing.

he closes his eyes. the more he tries to focus on whatever wei wuxian is talking about, the more it seems to fade out of his grip. he remembers the anger. remembers the laugh, that sends a chill down his spine. it's almost paralytic. whatever that was, it--it's so close but so far away in his memories that he can't conceive it, and somehow, that's even more frustrating. this is the first time he's ever felt the loss that comes with the fragments so deeply, and it's --infuriating. he doesn't know who or what that thing was, but he knows

he knows it would've been enjoying this. xie lian's suffering, his fury. it aches, something primal, buried deep in his bones. a fear that is associated with that sensation. with that laugh.

he has to put it to the side. it's all he can do to shake his head. ] ...I don't know either. [ how foolish, that he doesn't remember such an important thing. it hurts a part of him he's not willing to uncover, and he sets it aside for now, for contemplating away from his still angry friend.

but. if he's remembering correctly, there's something else, an unpleasant gnawing sensation that chews at his gut. there's another long pause.

xie lian has to ask. he has to know what wei wuxian saw, the secret that xie lian kept that led to the downfall of xian le. he doesn't sound afraid, or timid, but there's a rare moment of hesitance when he speaks.] Did you... you saw the cure.

[ he had to have seen it.

(and in reality, the secret xie lian kept wasn't what ended xian le. it would have ended either way--destroyed by their enemies and the plague, or torn apart from the inside by the human need to protect yourself.)

xie lian looks to the side, his voice tight, so deeply troubled that no amount of time could have cured it. ] ...I never told anyone. I couldn't. [ he wouldn't. the conviction to protect is so deeply entwined in his being that he'd thought i'll find a way to cure it myself besides that but it was hopeless. like that mysterious, unknown thing had said-- there was no chance to save xian le. ]

[The mention of that so-called cure has him laughing - a single, sharp bark of a sound.]

That was no cure.

[He could understand Xie Lian's deep-rooted convictions and refusal to believe that there had to be another way around. He also understands that life is rarely so sweet a thing. Of the innumerable worldly cruelties that constantly seek out the innocent and undeserving, why not a situation like this, where every path leads to the same horrific end?

His fury simmers. He forces himself to flex his fingers, lest the skin of his knuckles tear from how tightly he's clenching his fists.]

You may as well have killed them all with your own two hands if you handed that information over. They would have done the same job in no time, either way.

[ xie lian huffs, a humorless laugh. he can't look at wei wuxian, the emotions so overwhelming that he has to use every ounce of his might to keep them at bay. ] No. It wasn't.

[ he didn't want them to suffer. xie lian never wanted anything but the best for his followers--the people of xian le, the ones who had loved him as a prince as much as they loved him as a god. to see them hurting and knowing the way to fix it was only to cause undeniably more pain had been unbearable. it felt like trying to beat the answer out of whatever that thing was was the best he could do, and when he got it, it was the last thing he wanted.

i tried, he thinks. i failed, not a moment later. wei wuxian isn't the only one clenching his fists, and it takes conscious effort to unfold them, as ruoye wraps around his wrist, trying to soothe its master. his voice stays soft, even, but there's a sorrow so deep it's etched into his every feature, let alone into his voice. xie lian has lost, and lost, and lost. ] I descended from my position as a god because I wasn't allowed to have contact with humans, and I kept breaking the rules. I chose to descend to try and save Xian Le, and Yong'an, our neighbors, who were suffering a drought, too, in hopes to keep the peace and prevent war.

[ he did everything he could, and in the end, it had been too much. for the first time in his life, a shamed human instead of the crown prince, beloved by the gods, xie lian had to turn tail and run.

he exhales. ] The plague died out, since. It's been-- [ not long enough. will it ever have been long enough? will there ever be a time when he doesn't remember what it was like to participate in the whole world falling down around his shoulders? will xie lian ever repent for the ways he failed his people? eight centuries and he remembers, as he did when they returned from montevallo, every pained, miserable face, begging him to save them, recoiling and retaliating when he couldn't.

his voice softens. ] --it's been a very long time.

[The farther away from the memory he gets and the longer Xie Lian talks, the easier it is for him to shake some of that lingering anger away. His rage these days is harder to stoke, but certainly cools just as slowly in cases where he feels it's warranted.

He really would love to snap the neck of that thing, who or whatever it is.]

—Hah, well. Knowing what I know of you, Xie Lian, I can't say any of that sounds unlike you. You'd break any rule and take any hit if it meant you could keep safe the people you care for, yes? In this or any world - to a fault.

[He doesn't say it with an ounce of disdain or judgment. Even if he did want to judge, which is the farthest thing from his mind, no one could be a harsher critic than oneself in moments like this. They really are too similar.

Then, a quiet admittance - something he'd rarely admit to himself, let alone speak aloud:]

Some things stay with you no matter how many lifetimes its been since they've come to pass.

[He understands. Maybe not to the scope Xie Lian's dealt with. Not hundreds of years of greater and greater tragedies, not hundreds and hundreds of people depending on him when he couldn't deliver. He's no god, ascending and descending and re-ascending cyclically. He's never held the weight of a kingdom on his back. People have never fallen at his feet, begging for salvation. Mercy, maybe, in the days when he had none to spare, but never salvation. No one turned hopeful eyes toward him, only to turn away when he finally ran out of options, ideas, luck.

But the crushing grief of not being able to save even fifty people, even one, had been enough to break him, once.

He understands.]

Not just that. [ he corrects, softly, though some of that conviction flickers in his eyes. xie lian does care about everyone. he'd jump in front of a descending sword for a stranger on the streets, and he finds the words coming out of his mouth like he's said them before. ] If I can even save one person, then it would be enough.

[ the gods have different motivations and whims. each god has been through terrible trials to ascend to their position--the princess who slit her throat, the general who broke his sword, thousands of stories of loss and sacrifice to achieve immortality, to achieve worship, to achieve paradise. but the heavenly realm still feels like a foreign place to xie lian, somewhere for these ascended to groom their feathers and look down on the humanity they've found a place above. he'd rather be in the dirt, ploughing fields, in the trenches, fighting battles, taking on the most hopeless odds possible to try and make things right. xie lian's motivations are that intrinsic need to help others; to protect. he has working hands, a body that can't die, skills in cultivation and martial arts, all tools he failed to use to protect xian le that he uses now to try. if that's what he's good for then thats what he'll do. every face saved is another life lived, a tiny, human flame that isn't crushed underfoot by the wheels of time.

he and wei wuxian are alike, in these matters. bleeding hearts, eternally, saddled with guilt so deep it feels etched to the soul. the final comment sticks somewhere deep in his chest, and xie lian nods, just barely, slowly letting his fists unclench. he doesn't like to admit it either--likes to think about the good to get by. has to, lest he dwells on the crying faces of soldiers, of women and children, begging their god to save them when his hands are tied.

after a long moment--maybe out of respect, or to gather his thoughts--xie lian gives wei wuxian a small, sheepish smile. putting on a face, as ever, to try and lighten this heavy, heavy mood. ] Perhaps this one didn't stay so easily.

[ after all, the memory did apparently just escape his head. ] I apologize, that you had to experience such a thing on my behalf, Wei Wuxian. [ clasping his hands together, he bows his head. ] I believe I have everything back, now--I don't believe it was the fault of Ruoye, but I'm sure it would apologize, too.

[ sure enough, the end of the fabric strip pokes out of his sleeve--then bends in half, in a bowing motion. ]

...Mm. [Wei Wuxian hums a little note of neutral understanding.] Of course.

[He can't say it's something he would ever empathize with directly, though. He doubts he'd be as magnanimous as Xie Lian even at his best and most self-sacrificial. To him, a person with the capacity for vengeance and a youthtime spent in war, there are people he wouldn't care for or protect. It's the same as it had been in Montevallo. He'd understood Xie Lian would spare a moment of mourning even for those heinous men. He said as much to Okuni, once, when discussing the things their beloved family head was and wasn't capable of. Xie Lian had wanted to collect their bodies for their families and give them proper burials, where Wei Wuxian had taken small comfort in being the one to send them to their gruesome and deserved end. Is that what sets a god apart from a human? He doesn't know and doesn't bother asking.

He takes his cues from Xie Lian, though, as he tries to move the topic away from its dark and heavy home and into something easier to hold. There's still an anger anchored in him, a raucous swirl of emotions stirred like the sediment in a lakebed, but he manages a smile all the same.]

Please, there's hardly a need for apologies. It's been happening on and off since we got back with little warning or reason. If anyone should apologize, it's me for having to hand you back something like that.

[Though there's no actual note of apology in his voice, because it's not like there was a second option. It's Xie Lian's memory, miserable as it may be. It's his to have and his to keep alone.

fckin rip ruoye though GOD. He just laughs, extending his hand a little toward the fabric but keeping a cautious distance Just In Case.]

Ah-- Sorry about that! What an improper greeting. You don't mind a do-over, do you?

It is mine in the first place. [ and his to hold. he'd rather not inflict such a thing on just about anyone, and doing so makes him feel kind of twitchy, actually. he likes to keep his grief locked up in his head away from anyone and everyone but himself!!!!

luckily, wei wuxian takes on the steering of conversation away with aplomb, and for that, he's more than grateful. ruoye is as ever an excellent distraction, and xie lian turns his wrist out of his sleeve proper to allow it the room it might need to stretch. the look on his face is fond--no wonder he loves chicken the ferret (who is currently running in a ferret ball somewhere in the aisle) so much. ]

Ruoye. [ though ruoye is a bit less delighted at interacting with guys, it doesn't shy away from the outstretched hand as xie lian calls it forward, his voice quiet. instead, it shifts forward to bump against wei wuxian's fingers, then to wind around one if he'll let it, then another, then another, like a snake. it doesn't feel remotely different from any other piece of silk fabric, but there's a hint of resentful energy coming off it, despite the docile behavior. ] It's something of a spiritual device, but more than that, it's a very old friend. I felt a bit incomplete to not have it around, I think.

[ a spiritual device is to a god as a weapon to a cultivator. though xie lian had been a master swordsman in his time in the human realm, now he doesn't have nearly enough spiritual energy of his own (read: none) to power such a thing. ruoye is unique, and comes with its own spiritual properties--its near childish personality is all its own. ]

[Too bad memshares are here to RUIN XIE LIAN'S DAY!! Sometimes even if you want to keep your memories locked up in a tiny box shoved far under your mental sofa, the world has ways of coming for your life even then...

But outside of a faint little smile of acknowledgment, he lets the topic slip away, even if the memory and associated feelings won't leave as easily. It's fine - he's also very good at pushing aside what he doesn't want to deal with in exchange for a smile.]

You must feel much better now that it's here with you again, in that case.

[He watches with amusement as it winds around his fingers, carefully turning his hand like he actually is dealing with a snake or some other living creature and not just an animated strip of cloth that gently simmers with a tiny bit of resentful energy.]

It seems quite fond of you, too! What a quick reaction. Must be a good guard to have in tricky times, yes?

En. It has many uses, more than you might think.

[ said wiggly silk strip continues to wind around wei wuxian, like it's checking him out and making sure he's safe. xie lian watches it as the last of the negativity slips safely back underneath that mental sofa, and he's able to put his attention completely on the little things in life, like his spiritual device and it's uses.

which... ] Ah, here. Ruoye, come. [ at the call of its master, the strip immediately recedes back to xie lian's wrist, and he glances upwards at the tall, tall aisles of the notsco, then back at wei wuxian. hmmm. ] Do you trust me, Wei Wuxian? I'll demonstrate.

[Is Wei Wuxian ever safe, that's the real question. He seems intrigued enough by Ruoye just as it is now, though, and blinks when it's recalled to Xie Lian's wrist.

WHAT A QUESTION, THOUGH. And yet, without hesitation:]

Mm, I do! Demonstrate away.

[Just fucking kill him where he stands.]

[ snaps his fucking neck -

ok no not really. xie lian offers him a smile, then closes the rest of the distance between them so they stand shoulder to shoulder. ] Alright--you may want to hold on. [ turning his gaze upwards, he offers his command to the spiritual device, softly. ] Up there, let's go.

[ ruoye gives him the reaction time to grab onto wei wuxian's around the waist, and then shoots out of the sleeve it was residing in. easily two or three times the length it was before, it seeks out something on the very top of the costco shelves, wraps around it, and yanks, effectively taking them both off of their feet and up like a goddamn grappling hook.

yeet ]

[it's a faster death than he deserves

BUT HE DOES INDEED HOLD ON because he learned his lesson long ago about not heeding that particular warning. He also seems absolutely childishly delighted for the grappling hook prowess of this magic scrap of cloth as soon as he realizes what's happening.]

Oh—! How useful - and so strong, too! How much weight can it carry? Can it stretch even farther than this? Wonderful!

[HE WANTS AN EXTENDO GRAPPLING HOOK SCARF damn.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[mingle] the space (april).

i have to get my smacks in now before next world

enjoy ur peace while u HAVE IT

one fear

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