You're probably woken up by the explosion first. A loud, deafening boom comes from behind the walls of the residential district. When you look outside your window towards the darker, more secretive area of the city, you might see the structure around it... crumbling, the land falling in on itself slowly but surely. That might be what wakes you up first. If it doesn't, you may be awoken instead by the sudden jerking feeling behind your navel pulling you from where you are to somewhere... else.
It's dark. The first thing you notice is that it's dark -- and then come the scrabbling sounds of creatures in the dark, like metal being dragged across metal, a chilling, sharp sound. The first thing that becomes clear, as your vision adjusts, is that you're on a rickety pathway, metal and rusting and frail, above what appears to be yawning blackness. Far, far below, there's the faint sound of rushing water, a ways away.
The second thing that becomes clear is that you are very much not alone. Something is out there with you, and from the screeching metallic noises that come ever closer, it seems to be stalking you.
Thankfully, you're not alone -- right?  ...
...........
................
:)
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PHASE I [ ??? ] It’s drafty here. You’re below ground, that’s for certain from the echoes of the wind in the darkness. If you continue on forwards along the rickety, metal railing that serves as a walkway, the skittering noises of creatures in the dark follow -- but they don’t appear.
It seems everyone has been dumped along this pathway at random; you may be with friends, with enemies or with someone you’ve never met before, but either way, it soon becomes clear. There are only two ways to go along this path: up or down.
If you choose to take the path that follows a gradual slope down, the sounds of water lapping against a surface increase bit by bit, the air growing heavier and danker, until finally, the metallic platform gives way very suddenly (watch your step!) to a muddy bank. Down here, everything is darker, and not far away there’s the water. It’s cold and frigid and there are unfriendly creatures that await if you choose to delve into it. However, if you brave those creatures, and dive deeply enough, there is a mask. It rests half-buried by silt and rocks, but it’s there, and can be found by any intrepid explorers.
Somehow, it feels a little familiar.
And if you carry on in the cave system underground, eventually you will come across what appears to be an altar. There is blood on it -- not fresh, but not more than a month old -- and pieces of trinkets. Old bits of cloth, locks of hair, and some of them may even be familiar. Any dropped character who has a reasonably large amount of spiritual or magical power may have left scraps, such as pieces of clothing, trinkets, hair, or the sort behind at the altar.
Maybe that's why they weren't in the Nexus Code.
PHASE II [ ??? ] If you go up, you will eventually make your way above ground. It takes some time, and some luck -- you’ll have to avoid rusty railing and pathways, the path crumbling under you and that creeping sensation that something is following and watching you -- and then you’ll suddenly be in fresh air.
Well. It’s not so fresh, really.
The landscape is broken down and crumbled. It may have once been part of the city of Cerealia, but now it is in utter disrepair and decay. Buildings have crumbled, and debris is everywhere. There are signs of the same level of technology that Cerealia has -- but it is all broken down and utterly inaccessible.
And you’re not alone.
It seems the technology and metal and broken down destruction has gained sentience over its time sitting alone, waiting. And it is not happy to be disturbed. The creatures are made of pieces of everything around them, and when cut down, they’ll just slowly rebuild themselves from the debris.
It might be time to run.
They aren't happy about being disturbed, and you're in their way.
PHASE III [ ??? ] Above ground, there are a lot of broken down buildings.
Some can’t be accessed at all; some are too broken, too reduced to rubble. For those looking for shelter, they'll be able to find buildings where the doors can be forced open and they can camp out on the inside to various degrees of stability. Though the ceiling may cave in or the floor fall out from under you at a moment's notice, it's better than being out there. Be careful, because none of the architecture here can be trusted anymore.
And other buildings... are even less trustworthy than that.
There is a series of buildings in the midst of the wasteland, somehow still standing. They stand there silently, towering over the rest of the rubble in their two-story glory, and if the doors are forced open, it soon becomes clear that the building itself is full of mirrors.
Once, the mirrors had perhaps covered the walls and ceiling. Once, this building might have been akin to something of a ballet studio, somewhere to express yourself creatively. But now the mirrors are shattered and broken into pieces and the building lacks the joy it might have once held. Shards of mirror cover the floor, some big, some not so big, but they still hang from the walls as well and everywhere you look, you can see yourself.
And then, the reflection changes. From one blink to the next, you see a memory playing in the mirrors. Your memory. You’ll see a glimpse of one of your most traumatic or life-changing moments, broken up but clear in the shards. Blink and look away, and it’s gone, only to show up again in the next mirror a few moments later. Surely it’s just a trick of the light, right?
Except if someone else is with you, they’ll see it too -- and you might end up seeing a bit of their own past as well. Hope you're fond of sharing.
PHASE IV [ ??? ] If you survive the monsters, the crumbling landscape and the untrustworthy buildings, you may eventually find a terminal. It is buried deep among the rubble. One turn around a corner, one stumble into a hole, and you will find it. It sits there, out in the middle of nowhere; the building in which it used to be housed is apparently long gone, reduced to nothing but rubble.
And if you turn it on, there is a brief message.
Transmission Broadcasting.
Transmission Connected.
And then, there is a face.
BONUS [ ??? ] For those who have been wearing their masks a little too much, they might also start to notice that there are some strange effects attached, which worsen the more they’ve been wearing said masks. How badly they worsen is up to your discretion.
➝ Broken Mask: An intense feeling of paranoia, focused on whoever your character is with. They might also begin to remember fabricated memories of being betrayed by those people.
➝ Barcode Mask: Everything will begin to have value to them. There will be whispers in the back of their mind of the worth of their friends, the worth of a monster, the worth of everything around them. An intense need to own and consume as much as possible and as quickly as possible.
➝ Dripping Blood Mask: An intense lack of self-worth, a hollow feeling and thoughts of being weak and empty. Feeling as disposable as possible and an intense listless along with it.
➝ :( Mask: A need to prove yourself, to show everyone how strong you are as quickly as possible. You can do things, you can be of worth to everyone around you. Why won't they see that? Why?
➝ Ivy Mask: A choking sort of terror from all things metal and technology based, and a need to lash out against it. An intense distrust for anything that they feel is against the laws of nature.
➝ Grey Mask: More personable than normal, more emotional, more empathetic. An intense feeling of kindness and gratitude to those around you and a renewed love of life.
➝ Feather Mask: A dulled, lack of emotion. A detached feeling to everything around you. A sort of bland curiosity towards things without any empathetic reaction.
➝ Bloody Fingerprints Mask: They'll feel absolutely fine. No change.
The effects of the broken mask can stack on top of the others, if they chose to break their mask after the other effects began to appear. No other effects can be stacked, as no other changes can be stacked.
PENALTY [ ??? ] For characters who die while in the dark parts of the city, things will get... a little strange. They will die as normal, but they will wake up almost immediately after their death -- in the Nexus Code. They will have a few surreal moments to be there, to see their friends who have left Cerealia hanging lifelessly from odd, glimmering strands (though there are some faces, of course, that are missing, anyone who was spiritual, or magical, seems strangely absent) and then --
They’re back to being dead.
When characters revive in Cerealia, anywhere from one IC day to three or four IC days later, they will find that things are… not quite right with their code. They’re glitching, for a lack of a better word. Sometimes, their fingers will phase right through an object, their own limbs registering as cold and lifeless. Sometimes, they will see a face watching them -- but when they turn around to try to see who it is, the face will be gone.
These effects will last an IC week, before slowly things go back to normal.
That was strange.
[ Remember to apply proper warnings on threads with sensitive or inappropriate material and do let a mod know if your thread careens off into maiming or canoodling so we can lock the log. ] |
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no subject
[ not a random stranger... but still. kind of awkward. he has to snap out of this. ] It's you.
[ but he can only give Tsurumaru this incredulous look when he actually sounds completely serious about his question. he might even be caught a bit off guard, but he only scoffs. ]
You strangely sound sure that it's possible. Don't make me laugh.
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I'm being serious, you know.
[ he brings his gaze up, a mixture of sincerity and solemnity, and this is probably the most serious that he's ever sounded. ]
How to reunite with people that you can't see anymore... You shouldn't doubt me — I've had eight hundred years to think about this.
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Hm... Eight hundred years?
It sounds like you're implying they're dead. They're not. [ He... Thinks at least. there might be some doubt in his tone, but he sounds mostly certain. ]
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You do realize that the years have passed since then, don't you? Even though you're here, they're not here.
[ ah.... what a bad influence. he is kind of an asshole, though, and right now, he's absolutely earning that badge. ]
If you try to insist that they're alive, then you're just wasting your energy.
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but even during his several months here, no one has told him how many years have exactly passed. while technology might be different in Cerealia, Hijikata has always sort of thought... time was the same? he actually hasn't thought about it that much, most of his focus went into distracting himself from missing his comrades and hoping for a way back home.
but... maybe Tsurumaru's words aren't making complete sense. ]
Souji was here, and you're telling me they're not alive? [ he rubs the back of his neck with a sigh, kicking a shard away that was on the ground with his foot. ] As vice-commander I can't just write them off as dead unless I see it for myself.
[ but... it's kind of hard when they practically disappear from your sight. or should he be the one at fault? he's the one that's here... hm. he isn't sure. ]
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They could be, or they could not be.
[ tsurumaru's response is left intentionally vague, allowing hijikata to think about it for himself, because if tsuru's lucky enough, hijikata just might start despairing? but his reasons behind this aren't malicious at all, or so he thinks, in his warped mindset — there's nothing better than wanting to be with your comrades; even if they're dead, there's always a way. always, even if it's probably wrong. ]
But what if they were all dead, you know? Being alive while your comrades are all gone is... pretty tragic, and I don't think you should have to suffer any of that.
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I wonder. That's the problem when people just disappear. You don't know if they're alive or dead. I'd rather see it for myself.
[ that way he could at least be certain. he crosses his arms, gripping the loose fabric of his kimono tightly. ] Who knows... I've been here for awhile, but I'm not sure why. Like... Why did they choose me instead of Kondou-san, I suppose...
Ha.. It's kind of funny, isn't it. For once I'm not sure what to fight for, or what to do.
[ he's still on the edge of ... not wanting to admit any of this. he's still skirting around what he's truly thinking, what he truly wants to say. it's kind of hard, but for the first time in awhile he's actually felt really lost? because, really, that paperwork he does at his desk can only distract him for so long. ]
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You humans always need something to fight for, don't you?
[ but it's a false sense of security that he lulls hijikata into, his voice taking a sharp, scathing turn. ]
That's the problem with all of you — believing in things, believing in people, as if they'll last forever, and then getting all upset when they're gone.
[ ah.... and then his bitterness runs out again, and he's back to sounding soft, after a moment to recompose himself. ] Your lives are all so fragile, and there's no point in keeping yourself alive if everyone that you've ever loved is dead.
Trust me — out of anyone, I probably understand that the most.
no subject
I spent years becoming who I am for Kondou-san and the Shinsengumi. Of course, I'd be upset. It's not something I could let go as if it's nothing.
[ if you think his resolve about the Shinsengumi can be broken easily you Are Wrong. ]
But... [ his voice almost begins to shake but... no, no way. he takes a breath in, then out. he has to stay calm about this, doesn't he? ] There's no way I can die so easily, especially if it's not for the Shinsengumi.
[ he kicks another mirror shard for an extra measure- it seems like the reflection on the shards are changing again? he looks over at Tsurumaru, a bit curious. ]
Do you?
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But you are dying for the Shinsengumi. You shouldn't think of it as death, though — if you think about it as rejoining them, it's so much easier.
[ he trails off there, though, going silent for a few seconds as he glances at some of the shards — the ones along the floor are changing into a sight that isn't unfamiliar. the shards glaze over dark red, as if they can bleed, somehow, and the red soon gives way to brief glimpses of a continuing scene, hundreds of shadows of bodies piling up from what afterimages that can be seen amongst the mirror fragments.
tsurumaru lifts his gaze back up towards hijikata; it's valid to question whether he's truly here at all, his expression having paled three shades, and it's clear that he knows something about this. but regardless, he's trying to keep his tone level, and he's doing a pretty good job at holding the last bits of himself together. ]
Do I? You can see it for yourself, can't you?
[ he'll follow his statement with a small laugh, and ah....... he's not holding himself as together as he'd thought. ]
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It sounds like... Giving up, really. [ he can't do that? shouldn't he try to keep the Shinsengumi alive somehow. or is this just a way to give him comfort because he has nothing left.
his eyes glance down at the shards again, noticing they're taking on different images. of course, he doesn't recognize it ... but it's pretty easy to piece it together. if the memory of Ikedaya was Hijikata's (and Tsurumaru saw it just fine), that can only mean.
... ah. you can tell, the way he bites his lip and furrows his eyebrows. the images are definitely unpleasant for how grotesque the entire thing is. should he say something about it or- hm...
Well... Tsurumaru doesn't seem okay. he can only place a forceful hand on Tsurumaru's shoulder, almost giving him a small push to force him in another direction and start moving. ]
I think we should get out of here. [ he would ask if he was okay but that answer is pretty obvious. ]
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so he shoots a dirty, spiteful glare at hijikata, eyes narrowed in a way that hijikata has probably never seen before; but then again, seeing him like this — angry and offended — is rare in the first place. and when he speaks, his words grate against his throat, coming out in something that sounds like a snarl. ]
Why? Where will you go? There's nothing waiting for you in the present.
[ he'll reach up towards his shoulder then, grabbing hijikata's wrist tightly — but instead of trying to shove it aside, he tightens his grip around it. ]
Don't go.
Kondo Isami won't be there, Okita Souji won't be there.
You should stay here, with them.
I'm sure that they would want to see you again.
no subject
with a click of his tongue, under his breath he can only mutter with: ] What the hell is that suppose to me-
[ there's a slight recoil at being grabbed out of mere surprise, but he won't struggle- instead giving Tsurumaru an icy glare like usual when he acts up. but it immediately fades at his next words. there's a pause until he lets out a bitter chuckle, only to stop it with a small sigh. ]
Do you miss your comrades too? They're not here, you know. These images are fake. There's nothing here either.
[ nothing for him in the present either, apparently... but he still has to carry out Kondou's will. he has to, that's why he can't die anywhere. ]
Just snap out of it already.
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I don't care. [ he speaks bluntly, almost like a stubborn child, but a stubborn child... with a sharp weapon that he knows very well how to use. ]
I don't care that it's fake, because they're not here — that's what these images are telling us. They're in the afterlife, and they're calling to us. They want to see us again, and somewhere, in the bottom of our hearts, we know that we want to see them again, too.
[ abruptly, tsurumaru lets go of his wrist, gathering up all of his strength — enough to set both of his hands against hijikata's chest (ah... it's not what you think! but maybe that's a good distraction) and to push him back, knocking him over.
he leans over, gazing into hijikata's eyes listlessly; one foot is placed on top of hijikata's leg, as if to prevent him from rising back up, somehow. he'll reach for his sword then, slowly withdrawing it from its sheath with the standard, metallic scraping sound. ]
I'll help you, Hijikata — humans die so easily, and I'm sure you're no different.
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which is what he'll do obviously! he's already making the attempt to struggle his leg under the weight of Tsurumaru's foot, and he'll reach for Izuminokami.
but the problem is, he doesn't want to hurt him but he sure isn't going to die by any means... ... well, that's that- if Tsurumaru doesn't stop he'll make the decision to fight him but hopefully he can first knock some sense into him. he'll at least, in a swift, fluid motion unsheathe his sword and point it towards Tsurumaru, as a warning to stop. ]
Look, I don't need any help because I can't die here just because I've seen some stupid pictures. [ it almost comes out in a growl, low but threatening. a part of him is hoping maybe the harsh words would reach to him (because, what are comforting words, really).
he couldn't help but sigh. there's no way Hijikata can be calm in this situation when the sudden adrenaline rushes through his body- so while he means this with practically all his heart he still sounds incredibly irritated. ]
Just think. No one wants you to die, they'd rather see you have a strong will that wants to live.
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so when hijikata unsheathes his blade — the kanesada one, judging by its length — tsurumaru doesn't flinch, instead digging his heel into hijikata's leg even further. after all, the last words of a man that was stabbed are what are you going to do, stab me? ]
If I die, I can't be stolen and polished and sold — that's why no one wants me to die. A strong desire to live? Don't make me laugh. After they — [ his people, his clan, the people dying in the mirrors. ] — died, humans only cared about how much I was worth, and how much I could be sold for.
That's how cruel humans are. You're human, too, but you're also kind — so there's no need to be with any of this cruelty for longer than you have to.
[ he'll keep pressing down with the bottom of his platform, and given that they're three, solid inches of... the Tough Stuff that tsukumogami shoes are made out of, it's bound to hurt, and with enough weight, there's the first, tiny snap of something that's probably kind of vital. ]
You shouldn't run, you know. If you struggle even more, I'll have to hurt you further.
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there's a small bittersweet smile on his features at those words. 'you're also kind'. those are words he hasn't heard in quite awhile. ]
That's too bad, really...
[ he would say more but there's a snap and his eyes snap wide open with a sharp inhale. he chokes on his words and recoil- only to have a sharp pain shoot up his leg.
he thrusts his sword in response, though he wasn't really aiming anywhere specific. the adrenaline and pain making him suddenly a bit dizzy, but that's nothing. especially compared to what he feels during battle. he probably ends up getting most of the tip of the sword into his shoulder. with an extra push, he forces himself to sit up more and he tries to force the blade deeper into the skin. ]
I can't die. I have to... Carry out Kondou-san's will. [ he's pretty stubborn isn't he? he's practically alone but he clings to the Shinsengumi no matter what. ] I'll tell you now, you can send me to hell, but I'll just walk back out of it.
[ woah, edgy! but there's a pause. there's no damn way he's going to sit still and allow someone to kill him- even if they were close (by 'Hijikata standards', at least) in any way. ] I told you think about it. Think, and calm down. Is there... anything else? [ while his voice is strained, the first half of his sentence comes out in a low and dangerous hiss. he's not really playing around today! but then his question sounds more curious than anything. ]
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and then, he moves his shoulder an inch; it burns, but he grits his teeth and winces, placing his free hand on hijikata's arm — and instead of trying to shove him aside, he tries to drive the blade further into his skin, further towards the center of his chest, further towards something vital. ]
Oh, don't worry. If I knew how to send people to hell, I'd have already sent myself.
[ woah, just as edgy back! except clearly, tsurumaru's death-seeking masochism wins this time. the question does surprise him, though, but his eyes are bright with anger and pain and something else, and he sounds as if he's shouting. if he could pass his sleeve over his eyes, he would — but he can't, and he narrows his eyes, trying to hide how his vision is slowly blurring over, because he doesn't want to cry in front of hijikata?? (yet??) how embarrassing of him!! ]
What, about how my clan was massacred before my eyes, and how I couldn't do anything? How I couldn't just pick up a sword like them and protect them, because I'm a spirit?
Or, do you want to hear about how I was buried with them afterwards, and how the only thing that I could do for them was to hold them, as they started decaying beneath the ground, because I was terrified that they'd leave me if I didn't do my best to hold their bodies together? I couldn't even see them, and when I talked to them, about how much I missed them, about how badly I wanted to die and join them and be with them, they didn't talk back.
Of course they didn't, right? Talking to hundreds of dead bodies, as if they were still alive — if you think that I'm out of my mind, for doing something like that, I wouldn't blame you for it.
no subject
but being stubborn as hell, it doesn't mean he'll get up or lose strength. once again, he would fight until death if he has to. but even he'll even fight death itself? then, at the same time he knows he has to stay alive... but then he would also accept death if it was for the Shinsengumi.
well. it's a bit complicated sometimes. he can't die if there are things left to do... like waiting, and waiting to see Souji, or Kondou show up once again. he at least wants to see them one more time.
he looks at Tsurumaru, as everything just spills out. everything would register much faster if he wasn't thinking about the pain he's stubbornly trying to ignore. Hijikata knows this- the yelling and holding back tears of sheer loneliness and frustration. it's nothing new to him.
but he can only stay silent, for some reason. but he has to say something... ]
Ah, well... [ honestly, he's shocked? ] It sounds like... You're blaming yourself when it's not your fault.
[ because well, he really couldn't do anything. but it really ... sucks when you can't do anything and people disappear. even Hijikata doesn't even have good advice for this because he struggles with the same type of problems. because really, he would act the same way: a violent outburst on the verge of tears. ] Killing me isn't going to make it less painful, is it. You can cry if you want.
no subject
[ see: oda nobunaga, and all of the insignificant people that came after him. ] But the rumors aren't true at all — I can't really kill anyone just by being there. Still, everyone that I ever came in contact with kept dying before their time, and when you start hearing stuff like that, it really gets beneath your skin, you know?
[ he continues trying to hold things back, biting his bottom lip — but in the end, it doesn't work out; when he blinks and looks back up, his cheeks sting uncomfortably, and he's angry, at a world that he'd wanted to love but failed to love him back. (and he'd gone ahead and gotten attached to it anyway.) ]
And you — I was foolish to spend much time with you, just because I enjoyed it. It's dumb, it's stupid — visiting you and dragging you around everywhere was fun for me, and for the first time in centuries, I liked being around a human, but what if I ended up shortening your lifespan, too?
[ lifting his arm hurts — but he braces himself, slowly aiming until he holds the point of his blade at hijikata's chest. ]
If you die somewhere else, out of my sight, I absolutely won't forgive you. That's why killing you right now will make it more certain for me.
no subject
it doesn't last long because at the threat of dying it's only natural Hijikata would resist. yet, he still can't go anywhere, and even if he does pull his leg free it's not like he can do much with it. there's no way in hell he'd run either. he has to find another way to stop him... but... ]
There's no way I'd die so easily...
[ he can't. he simply just can't.
he shifts his gaze to the side, contemplating to unsheathe his other sword since he doesn't seem to have much strength to hold Izuminokami at the moment but his eyes capture the shards of mirror again which seem to be changing shape. which seems to paint another image: of Hijikata, with that same pained look in his eyes- he's visibly upset, almost shaking. almost like an echo he speaks in a low voice then almost explodes into some furious rage.
of course, he just doesn't stop there, hitting the wall of the room with a fist in a rhythmic manner, making the other person in the room flinch. his knuckles turning rad as he continuously pounds against the wood. Hijikata easily remembers this time, a time of one of his weaknesses. he sighs, almost feeling rather defeated. ]
It's almost like this place is mocking me... I guess I was foolish to say it myself, saying it's not your fault is pretty easy, huh. I really don't understand, I admit. [ what Tsurumaru's been through, at least. ]
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so instead, he puts his hands together and hopes that hijikata will receive his sentiments, no matter how poorly delivered. with his fingers intertwined together, he watches the glass blankly, eyes subconsciously glued onto the surface of the mirror fragments — watches, as the hijikata in the mirror looks the way that tsurumaru imagines that he himself would have looked on that day, saying the things that he would have said on that day, and feeling the same kind of pain that he'd certainly felt on that day.
once it ends, he peels his gaze from the mirrors and glances at hijikata, and while his sympathy isn't the obvious sort, tsurumaru speaks in the rare way that he does whenever he's alone, whenever he doesn't have to impress anyone with his smiles and his jokes — quietly, softly, and almost monotonously, making no kind of expression at all, because whenever he doesn't have to try, he comes close to not existing at all. ]
So you are capable of making an expression like that... and saying those kinds of things, too. The things that bother you. The things that make you cry.
[ still, he thinks that he doesn't mind hijikata when he's like that — angry and tense and enraged, because it's raw emotion, and tsurumaru appreciates how honest and unbridled it is. ]
But you did understand, even just a little bit. If I told you the same thing — that it's not your fault, you'd give me a similar reaction, wouldn't you?
no subject