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bellelurette2025-03-31 04:55 pm
lesmodsalouette) wrote in bellelurette2025-03-31 04:55 pm
WEEK FOUR
WEEK FOUR
25 Guests
The day is rung in by a myriad clocks tolling at once.
It's a familiar sound. It's the first time you're hearing it.
Once again, Monday is upon you, and once again you have just arrived at the castle to meet your new roommates. The last week is gone without a trace - nothing there to remind you of its existence. Injuries have been replaced with the old aches you may have felt before coming here, keepsakes have vanished and decorations have returned to their original state.
Formally, this is a clean slate and a fresh start. But that's not how it feels in your mind - your bodies may be rewound, but your hearts are steadily continuing, carrying the weight of a time that never was.
As always, the castle is new and old at once. Static, yet ever-changing. The curious minds among you may find it a good idea to explore a little.
TIME LOOP:
-Characters wake up with the clothes they had with them at their canon point, like in the intro log unless you wish to have them affected by the weekly effect as early as Monday.
-The state of their bodies is still exactly the same as it was on the intro log (for better or worse). This is independent of the weekly effect.
-Any items they accumulated last week are also reset (sorry you'll need to build up your weapon cache again), except items that were given out as event rewards. Please note that the item uses are not reset.
LOCATIONS UPDATED:
- garden, library, promenade
- aquarium โ wintering room
- photography studio โ tea room
-The state of their bodies is still exactly the same as it was on the intro log (for better or worse). This is independent of the weekly effect.
-Any items they accumulated last week are also reset (sorry you'll need to build up your weapon cache again), except items that were given out as event rewards. Please note that the item uses are not reset.
LOCATIONS UPDATED:
- garden, library, promenade
- aquarium โ wintering room
- photography studio โ tea room
WEEKLY EFFECT
This week the castle's whims have decided to put on a little fashion show! Characters may awaken to find themselves dressed in an outfit that they have once worn... or an outfit that they might have worn, in a future that has never come to pass. These clothes are not period-accurate and instead reflect the characters' own lives and thus worlds! It's time to shine in an outfit you absolutely love - or absolutely loathe!
The drawback is that these magical clothes also cannot be removed until sundown. Whatever outfit you woke up in? You're stuck in it! The only way to escape your dress-up fate is to damage the clothing, but if you do so you'll find yourself stuck naked until the beginning of the next day. The castle's strange properties do at least provide a little cloud of mist that will follow characters around for modesty reasons.
The new clothes will remain after the day of their appearance. They'll lose all strange properties and become garments that can simply be worn or discarded at will, like all other clothing.
The drawback is that these magical clothes also cannot be removed until sundown. Whatever outfit you woke up in? You're stuck in it! The only way to escape your dress-up fate is to damage the clothing, but if you do so you'll find yourself stuck naked until the beginning of the next day. The castle's strange properties do at least provide a little cloud of mist that will follow characters around for modesty reasons.
The new clothes will remain after the day of their appearance. They'll lose all strange properties and become garments that can simply be worn or discarded at will, like all other clothing.
(OOC: Counter proposals are open until Tuesday! Murder proposals are closed! Thank you all for your enthusiasm!)
/done
you donโt truly die until someone forgets your name. please, donโt forget his. donโt forget that there was once an incomplete creature named yoru. who didnโt own his body; nothing physical was his.
just his name.
a gentle light engulfs his body, undeserved but beautiful. yoru smiles and burns away into ash, leaving nothing but a bracelet in his place (a loan, he returns it. and somewhere in the chateau - a ring, accidental.), a knife, and the silence of two more empty seats.
water lilyโs dining table now seats only two. ]
ANNOUNCEMENT
well the scene in the garden, speaks to one of the other ends.
ish is here, floating above the scene, expression impassive. he's been watching from the beginning, as he watches all the murders that happen in his domain; he scents murderous impulse like a shark to blood. he doesn't intervene. he only makes his presence known when the first body falls, but the second follows suit, like a domino.
he sighs. it's a sigh full of exasperation but also something else, something heavy. but he has a job to do, and that's all he'll allow himself for now. like monday morning, his voice rings out to everyone. ]
Two things:
One: You might want to avoid the garden for a while.
Two: Yoonhee and Yoru are dead.
They took each other out, so there won't be a carnival for it.
[ that's all he has to say, but he will be lingering above the scene. ]
cw suicidal ideation / grief / soupie when i get you (WELL DONE U TWO)
The fact of the matter is, Hwylryn is perfectly capable of shattering from grief - the risk is no metaphor. And when he splits apart and finally becomes native to death, he'll be leave behind a rich, glittering stone - a mana stone, filled with his essence, his grave marker and tomb.
He does not shatter here. But looking at him now, one might think that would've been a mercy.
Of course he had rushed to the garden, stumbling over himself like a mermaid whose tail was split into legs for the first time, whose feet feel glass upon the dirt, the second he hears Yoru's name and, and it takes too long for the thoughts to connect.
How could he not?
How could he be too late again?
Again?
How many more times will he let this happen?
He makes it there, to the pile of ash and Yoonhee's body, but Hwylryn doesn't know what he sees for a long time, even when he laggedly understands the ash, his gifted bracelet, the knife, as Yoru. That takes awhile. He's numb (ah, right, how Yoru said he felt), and stunned, and quiet. He gazes with his lips parted, adrift in the sea, hot and cold together, but unable to lift off, the way his heart sinks like an anchor.
It sinks lower, and lower, and lower, and as sensation returns to him, as the cruel, indifferent sounds of the world blare into his ears, and time begins to move, and he can feel this awful earth (an earth without Yoru, he can't stand it) beneath his feet, he finds,
that there is no bottom, and his heart keeps sinking lower. )
Ah...
( The ocean that is his heart overwhelms him. It drowns him. Would that it really did. Would that he had stolen away Yoru that evening, would that he had drowned him in the pond, would that he had feasted and kept eating until he was gone, would that he,
Tears roll down his cheeks, thick and slow and ripe with grief. They come one after another, each wave too impatient to wait for the other to finish their track. And so it begins to form a curtain. )
Ah... Ah...
( His gaze falls to his orphaned bracelet. Hwylryn's gift, the last remaining one that once paired with Gwawlyn's, that has lasted with him for so many thousands of years. He'd hoped giving it to Yoru would mean Yoru would live on forever, in his own way, even though they would part once this was all over.
Yoru's ring, arbitrarily (or perhaps with weight) given, weighs heavy and cold on his index.
(Was it not enough, to visit? Had Hwylryn chosen without realizing? Was this the consequence of that choice? Was it that, to fail to choose means to watch his friends kill one another - and to choose means to kill them before they can?
He didn't mean to, he didn't want to,
he,)
He'd take a sword pressed to his neck right now as a kindness. Please slice right through. )
Yoru...
( His voice trembles as a mast in the storm, no longer a thing of the sea but a stranger within it. No longer the waves but hostage, here, to its leagues of grief. )
Yoru... Yoru... Yoru...
( His darling, dearest friend. An icy warmth in his hand, his companion in impulse - Hwylryn pulling him down along the path, laughing, telling him jump!—
and looking back to find his palm empty, and wind carrying away the ash held there.
He does not fall to his knees and onto the ground so much as he is reduced into it, like a fading wave as it collapses, face full of tears, seeming like he's on the verge of dissolving into sea and into the earth, but unable to look away.
He had felt this before, when Tiamat and Siffrin gone, but with such emphasis now does he wishe he had been allowed to die when Balthazar had.
(One can try to talk to him, but he won't be the most responsive.)
Bookkeeping: Hwylryn is wearing some type of robe that looks similar to this this in black with purple accents (tulle attached to the sleeves) and the same hairpiece he's been wearing all week. Aptly, today is Northern vibes day. No time for dat tho Goku........ )
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he lands on the ground in a slightly different regalia than usual, and his two earrings twinkle in the absence of all other sound. ]
Hwylryn. [ he reaches out, not to offer a hand, but to place his own against hwylryn's cheek. ]
Can you hear me?
cw suicidal imagery ment
He almost doesn't respond. But he knows this touch, this melody in the wind, and though there is a delay, though his tears don't stop, he ... slowly, closes his eyes.
Yes, he hears you. Yes, even through the silence of the deep. Is he allowed to hold onto it like a lifeline? Or - should he do as Yoru suggested - should he take it, and use it like a noose?
His voice is barely a whisper, raw though he's barely used his voice: )
... Please... don't die, too.
( Please. He doesn't know how he's surviving this, but he won't make it beyond that. )
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I won't leave you, I can't. [ that part of hwylyrn's heart that only the two of them know, resonates faintly. a chime, a simple note of warmth, golden even in the depths of the sea. ]
I'm still here. Do you feel me?
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The incision, a promise, a declaration - a resonating chime that echoes the dark, that acts as a growing light - takes grasp of him in his descent, deadweight though he is. It isn't easy, but he feels how it drags him steadily upward. )
... Mm....
( He swallows, struggling - but not so much drowning, but taking in air. Slowly, slowly. )
... I can't forget.
( Can't, won't - all the same now, willingly marked as he is. He just thinks - somewhere in the sort of dizzyheaded state of mind crying causes you - that he wishes... he had a mark unto Ish, too. Don't forget him, don't die and think Hwylryn will be okay, he'll be fine without me; don't die and think - and not think about him at all.
The black waters of his heart aren't calm, and they're still waters that seek to pull him down, and drown. But he's trying. He's trying, with Ish here.
He exhales, slowly, quietly, struggling. )
I'm tired, Ish.
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[ a call and an answer, always.
he removes his hand to scoop up hwylryn in his arms, taking a moment to feel his weight, to make sure he's taken all of him from the depths. satisfied, his magic words tumble from his mouth, no louder than a whisper.
in a blink, they vanish. he'll be back later to clean up the mess. ]
not here!
She closes her eyes and lets out a quiet breath. Then, she quietly makes her leave.
Please hold on. ]
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His pace slows as he approaches, taking in the sight of Yoonhee's body and the ashes that presumably were once Yoru. He stands there for a while, shoulders slowly sagging like lead.
"It doth pain me to play his game for the time being, but we must needs do what we can to remain alive and bring an end to his ambitions."
"So we're a team?"
"Aye."
Yoru... There was still much to learn from him, and what becomes of Jin now that he's gone? Yoonhee, of course, never wanted to be one of them. But that didn't stop anyone from looking after him anyway. His lack of a constant presence in the suite will be noticed.
There's still a chance that they'll be back at the end of all of this, but after yesterday's events, Urianger is absolutely exhausted by the state of things. How much more will have to be endured before the final push to end this madness?
Eventually, he'll take his leave. Maybe with Cain, seeing as it's just the two of them in Water Lily now.]
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He stands, regret and grief and how loathe he is to leave this spot, but he can't stay here forever. He turns and looks up at his one remaining water lily; his expression is contorted, bags under his eyes swollen, though he hasn't even cried. ]
...
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He reaches out to put a hand against Cain's shoulder. For whatever pain Urianger is feeling right now, he knows it's tenfold for his knightly roommate. He's here to look out for him.]
Come, let us locate a quiet place to regroup.
[...a quiet place that isn't their suite. He doesn't think either of them are prepared for the emptiness that awaits them.]
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Nothing's there of course.
He doesn't know where to go. Everywhere, he sees Yoru's face. It can't be the suite. It can't be the solarium, or the observatory, or the tea room, or the dining hall, or the promenade, or, or— ]
The library. [ He rarely went there. Once, precisely. ] Let's go to the library.
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Whatever he was doing with Richard, finished or no, gets put on hold. His face twists with worry, and he feels the ice sink into his stomach, draining from his face and his limbs.
He sees it all. That he can't interfere—that he can't get there in time, to stop them, his roommates, the half of them left, tears at his heart and his spirit and why can't he save them—
Cain knows when Yoonhee dies because, for the third time, he sees him. ]
Y—
[ He steps. A name half-finished on his tongue dies.
No.
...No.
Cain was the one who's supposed to shatter on death. Cain is the one who's supposed to leave behind no body when he dies. Cain is the one who's supposed to have nothing to hold when he's gone. Not, not—not Yoru—
He doesn't remember crossing the garden, past the flowers and decorations and water features, underneath the bright and shining sun, amongst the others who undoubtedly flock to the scene of carnage. He doesn't remember getting to his knees before the remaining half of his roommates—roommates no longer.
He can feel his spine creak as he leans forward. The bare tips of his fingers brush against the ash and he feels the little pieces of his heart crack. He can't even eat him. ]
Why...?
[ He wants to scream, but instead, his voice is a whisper, held down by the weight of fresh grief. The impulse bubbles in his throat but dies in his chest. He's barely said anything and his voice feels hoarse already. ]
We were supposed to stay together until the end...
[ Whatever that meant. At the time, Cain didn't want to rule out the possibility that one of them might end up the victim to an attack, that they might be targeted for murder at some point in Ish's stupid game. Nor had Cain ruled out the possibility that Yoru would commit a murder himself, for wishes he didn't want him to make, and some part of his heart had steeled himself for a future where he would have to kill him himself.
But now... Now? Like this?
He didn't even get to give him parting words.
He didn't even say goodbye to Jin.
They were supposed to have dinner today.
What was the last thing he said to him? I just gotta take care of a thing? Be right back? I'll find you later? How stupid is it of him that he can't remember? Had it been that insignificant?
He had still been thinking. He was trying to think of something to give to Yoru before they left. A lock of his hair, maybe, imbued with his magic, something for him to burn if he needed a burst of good luck. Or one of his stupid crafts. Or maybe a promise.
Once my fight with the Calamity is over, once my duty to my prince is done, and once I get back my eye—I promise, I'll come find you.
The words had sat in his chest that night in the observatory, but he thought better of it, Bradley's warning fresh in his ears.
Imagine if he'd been so impulsive to make him feel better that he'd made it. He would be human now.
But he didn't, and he's not. Ultimately, he gave him nothing, and he has nothing in return.
His fingers move again, drawing a faint line in what has already been carried away by the wind. Ash mixes with blood. Cain will get these clothes dirty, he's sure—they're not even his. But he doesn't think about that. All he thinks about is the weight in his chest and he doesn't—what even was this? Was there a name for this?
It wasn't anything, he thinks. But guilt and grief wracks him all the same.
It was just a game between us, Cain.
He remembers the hurt on Yoru's face and he never, he never made it better. He had rejected him so fast he'd felt the crack in Yoru's heart. But nothing he did after was enough to cheer him up, was it? Had it hurt so much he'd chosen death, instead of deciding to see the end of this stupid farce together?
He failed.
In my name as a knight, I'll do what I can to keep you all safe.
He failed that, too.
His hand balls into a fist over the ash and the dirt. His other, shaking faintly, reaches for Yoonhee's, and he brings it to his forehead.
Despite everything, he'd considered them friends. Yoonhee would have rejected the notion, he's certain. But they still drank together, did stupid shit together, and at the end of the day, Cain considered him one of them.
But what point is there, when they were both one of his?
How many memorials is he going to have to make? ]
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which is to say, funny story, Ish's announcement and recommendation doesn't mean anything when someone might have already been there this morning, at any one of her preferred haunts this week. ]
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Veering away from his original circuit, Sousuke runs over to Yoonhee and Yoruโ-or rather, to whatโs left of them. The announcement also helped in another regard: the any surprise is mostly gone, even if he can help but furrow his brows upon spotting the pile of ash.
He canโt say he knew either of them particularly well, so heโll leave the grieving to their friends, allies, comrades.
But he does have one question for the Witch of Ruin hovering over their heads.]
Ish. What are you doing with their remains?
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[ limon note: me staring at this tag forever bc describing this in even if tempest is weird but suffice to say!!!! hes just cleaning up, albeit in a nice way. ]
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what a way to put it... ]
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Oh damn. At least we don't have to have a carnival, I guess.
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They don't blink at the carnage - they probably should.
* Didn't you figure me out day one?
* It is foolish isn't it? But... there's something special about it, too. How, no matter what you are, you still want... to trust something. Someone.
They feel... nothing.
They take a sip and stare up at Ish wordlessly.]
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Yoonhee, huh? Just from that, she's thinking that Yoru must have started it? Which somehow ended in a mutual kill. Maybe. All of that's simply a guess based on what she knows.
With a sigh, she picks up a dart, twirling it around in her hands. She doesn't like the old man at all. At best, she finds him offputting. Something about him rubs her the wrong way, but the enemy of an enemy is a sort of ally? At least that's her reasoning for talking to him as much as she did.
But really, he ended up being so easy to talk to because his motivations are always so strangely clear. Sure, his mind is a mystery, but the man certainly knows what he wants. She almost envies how committed he is.
He still pisses her off a lot, though.
Raising her hand, she takes aim at the dartboard and throws. The dart sails through the air, hitting the center...almost a perfect bullseye [19]. At the sight, she puts a hand over her bandaged wound and laughs and laughs and laughs. How ridiculous. This place truly is a goddamn circus.
In the end, she still couldn't beat him at darts. And now he's dead. Life really is strange. Maybe he's with the other dead, but part of her thinks it would be nice if Yoonhee and Seojin were reunited instead. If only for the hilarity of it. ]
Wonder if you saw him in the end?
[ Cheers, Yoonhee. She won't share the next champagne she finds, either. ]