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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[He would have. If he were in Wei Wuxian's position, he would have done it. Maybe not have come out of it as great as Wei Wuxian, since he can never seem to amount to anything in the grand scheme of things, but... he would have, no hesitation.

What he says, however, is,] Don't push your luck.

[He's going to pretend he has the decency to deny anything Wei Wuxian may say or think about it, regardless of the truth. Some things are still too fresh... even if they are years, and years, and years old.]

You would have been strung up. Probably given us away under duress.

[Jiang Cheng will always be Jiang Cheng...

He shakes his head and leans back against the wall of the springs, turning his gaze toward some of the rock formations looming distantly through the steam. He doesn't want to look at Jiang Cheng right now, with things still raw between them, even though he's not closing himself off or indicating he's rushing to end the conversation.]

What luck do I have to push, anyway? I'd have liked to see them try.

[NO WEN SECT MEMBER WOULD BREAK HIM, HOT DAMN. His luck's in the gutter, his pain tolerance is high and he's got nothing to lose when it comes to protecting his loved ones!!

Which, haha - speaking of! It's like the universe is just out to kick Jiang Cheng's ass personally and refute him, because on the breath of wry laughter that follows, a memory slams into him. Likely very disorienting, considering he isn't even fully conscious for most of it; it's a disjointed haze of agony and mourning and the deep, ferocious love that he's always been so full of. Scraps of older memories flutter by within this single encapsulated moment - the rocky what-ifs, the warm past, the future he's letting go of. There is not a lick of hesitation or regret in his bones, but for all the arrogance he has and all the surety and all the show, who wouldn't mourn the death of a promising road ahead?

The only thing that keeps him clinging to the strings of consciousness through this misery (outside of his own bullheaded determination, as always) is the thought of the brother he loves so dearly, waiting, depending on him to make miracles happen. He would sooner die than let him down.]

...Idiot.

[He does his absolute very best to cover the fond relief in that word. He's still bitter! And angry! And he's still very sore about a lot of things having to do with Wei Wuxian, but...! The words are... too Wei Wuxian for him not to remember the brother he lost, first to family severance and then to the stupidity of a hero complex.

All he can think about is how real the memories from other places feel. The two of them carrying on under the table with A-yuan. The two of them horse-playing in the lake. Was it real? Was it real enough to mean something?]

You--

[The memory strangles the words in his throat. He drops everything, clothes, towel, sword, forgetting them at his feet. At first, he thinks he might vomit when he comes reeling back, but instead he just ends up heaving on his knees. Some of the feelings aren't any different, in a way, than things he has felt. Love, and fear, and determination, and pain.

He clutches the raw center of his chest, scratching the skin with his nails. It was bad enough finding out, running around mad and foaming, demanding others to try to draw the sword.]

[It's warm and bitter at once to hear that edge of fondness in Jiang Cheng's voice. It's comforting and hurtful to remember all the times he'd heard something similar before, both in other worlds where things had been different, and in their own past. He'd wonder the same things Jiang Cheng does, if he hadn't decided long ago that reconciliation was a distant best-case scenario, and that the most realistic outcome was a future in which neither of them bothered the other.

But before he can linger on it for too long, there's the distinct sensation of loss. Then, a mental beat where he's just like oh no because he KNOWS WHAT'S COMING and honestly, for Jiang Cheng, none of the memories he might see would be good for him. Some would certainly be far worse than others, but none would be good. He whirls around in the water in time to watch everything clatter to the floor, and in a beat, he's up and out and running toward Jiang Cheng. Thank god he was wearing a towel.

The first thing Wei Wuxian does after crashing to the ground near him is reach for his hands, trying to pull them away from his chest before he can tear the skin open. Panic and worry and fear constrict his throat; even now, seeing Jiang Cheng suffering and in pain invokes the same reactions that it had years and years ago.]

Jiang Cheng—! Stop--

[The hand comes away, but he wrestles Wei Wuxian's hold by shoving, defensive, hurt.] Don't touch me. [There really is so little venom in the words.

He just sounds tired.

The scratches at least aren't bad, only bringing red whelps to his skin in long lines right over the center.]

Why can't you ever mind your own business? [The shame stings hot behind his eyes. He really hasn't been able to have his tantrum yet, but maybe he doesn't have the energy now. After seeing it, feeling it.] Why couldn't you just leave it ?!

[It's perhaps the lack of sharpness he's used to that has him pulling his hand back sooner than he otherwise might. It reminds him of a hit to his chest from years and years ago - one that had barely jostled him. One full of exhaustion and resignation, none of his usual power or bite behind it.

Every time he tries to reach out to Jiang Cheng, it seems he only does more harm than good.

He folds his hands against his lap, then, but doesn't move away just yet. How can he? Even with the spottiness of a missing memory, it's not like he could mistake what Jiang Cheng is talking about.]

... ["Because you're my little brother" rests on the tip of his tongue, but he'd long since lost the rights to claim that. So instead, he repeats earlier words, soft and tender and fraught with the tension of years of things left unsaid.]

You would have done the same thing, in my position.

[They both know it now, in some irrefutable way. He'd seen Jiang Cheng run without an ounce of hesitation into danger, giving up his safety and his life for just a chance at keeping the wrong eyes from spotting him. There's no need to put it into more complex words when they both understand it painfully well.]

[To subdue the quiver of his hand--whether it's angry or startled--he clenches his fist tightly.]

Wei Wuxian...

[He can't say he wouldn't. There was... He has done something, he thinks, similar. He can't remember what. There's one to fall back on. A few to fall back on sometimes, under the ire of his mother.]

You think... you think you're so perfect! That I should be grateful to you?! For having your core inside of me?! After all we gave you, and you left like a traitor! After-- [Doing something like this.] That I'm meant to forgive you?!

Wei Wuxian!

[It's a stinging reminder. Jiang Cheng doesn't know, he doesn't know and yet he's still so filled with such a bitter anger. There's less bite to his edge, but he doesn't know the true extent of the bloodshed Wei Wuxian has caused, and he can't even tell him. Any peace they could have here and now is a farce. It would be built on glass, liable to break the second his memories returned.

The words also sting, but a fair deal less. He feels - tired. Surely Jiang Cheng does, too. Mentions of the core lay the groundwork for his missing memory, but only barely. He looks down at his hands.]

Is that what you really believe, Jiang Cheng? That I can look at what I've done and think that I'm perfect? [Good, even? His lips press thin and he huffs out a small, humorless laugh.]

You think I want to barter forgiveness out of you, now or any time before? You should know I didn't do it for forgiveness or gratitude or anything else. When you drew those men away, you didn't do it for recognition or praise.

[They had both taken similar actions for similar reasons, with similar results. Life has a funny way of working out.]

[Desperately, he just wants a reason to hate Wei Wuxian. He spent so long doing it? (Pretending to do it, for the most part.) He spent so long clinging to scraps of hate, thirteen long years of it.

And now, here, seeing and feeling it, he so badly wants to keep hating Wei Wuxian. But he can't. It's thick in his throat, choking him. More than anything, he's angry at himself.

His hands curl into fists, and he presses them against his thigh and the floor.]

Just shut up, [is all he can think to say about it.] You can't just... give me your that like it's nothing! Like it was nothing!

[He's too fearful of whether or not he would have done the same. He thinks... running from Wens, being hit by a core-destroying fist, somehow that's different than transferring a core completely.]

[Once again, he's left with very little he can actually say. That it wasn't nothing? He doesn't need the haze of returning memories to know it had been a sacrifice, but the last thing he wants is for it to seem like he thinks Jiang Cheng should feel indebted. He could tell Jiang Cheng that it's his core, his future, to do with as he pleases. He could say that it doesn't matter what the circumstances are - he'd give his very life if it meant Jiang Cheng would be okay, every time.

His hand rises and rests against his own torso for a moment, acknowledging the hollow space where Mo Xuanyu's weak core had once turned.

He laughs, soft and self-deprecating.]

What is it that you want to hear? I won't apologize. It seems like I never have the right words when it comes to you, no matter where we are, anyway.

[In the later years of his first life, in all of his second, toward the end of their time in Montevallo. Even the time they spent at peace in Algos feels like borrowed time he did nothing to deserve. He sighs, leans back, gaze rising toward the ceiling. That same tiredness weights his words.]

...If it's like this and there isn't anything for us to say, then it's best to leave things here, I think.

[Shakily, his hand reaches for one of the closest of the things he dropped, like he's going to start gathering it all up hurried in his arms to run away.

But the sigh stops him short of folding the sword into the crook of his elbow. His eyes narrow on Wei Wuxian's face, and he looks briefly a little shocked. And then the expression hardens. He's such an ornery thing.

It offends and hurts him that Wei Wuxian would suggest such a thing, and yet, it also offends and hurts him to bother saying it does.

He can't win, can he? He can't ever win! He can't have his dogs, or his father's praise, or his mother's satisfaction, or his sister's happiness! He can't have any glory, or honor, or the satisfaction of helping family he loves! He can't have a nephew raised by rightful parents! He can't raze an entire sect to the ground, or rebuild his own with any help! He can't relax, he can't let go, he can't have a good cry, or a goddamn brother without a hero complex who won't put family in front others!]

Fine, [he hisses, sounding sarcastically thankful. He grabs the rest of the fallen things, jerking himself to his feet.] But when could you ever leave anything alone, Wei Wuxian?

[Briskly, he turns and starts walking away.]

[It stings - the words that needle, the tone with its mockery of gratitude, Jiang Cheng's back as he collects his items and turns to walk away. But ultimately, it's for the best.

They can't even think about repairing their relationship while Jiang Cheng is missing so many pieces of his own past, and after he gets those back, Wei Wuxian doubts he'd be willing to reconcile at all. It's better this way, he thinks. If he still exists in his little brother's periphery, isn't there no way for the wounds to close? Won't they continue to fester, refusing to heal, as his mere presence picks them open again and again?

He wants to move on. He wants for Jiang Cheng to be able to move on, too. If that means acknowledging the true end of their time together as twin heroes and parallel-running futures that do not intersect, then that's what it means. This is a good first step there, he thinks. This is the most he can do.

Again, he says nothing as Jiang Cheng leaves - not even the thank you on the tip of his tongue, or the I'm sorry he owes. One of many. But he watches, heavy with thoughts he can't form into proper words and words he can't speak anyway.

It's for the best.]

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[mingle] the space (april).

no subject

we were too busy shitposting and forgot to warn for spoilers,

we're so stupid i hate us

stop i also hate us WE'RE REALLY OUT HERE

you started all of this

dont put your shrimp crimes on me

i'm putting them on you. you lead me to these shrimp crimes.

takes u to shrimp court

WTF MY SHRIMP

:\ this is what HAPPENS

shoots you into the sun

LOOKS LIKE TEAM ROCKET'S BLASTING OFF AGAIN