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Entry tags:
- ! mod event,
- 2ha: chu wanning,
- arknights: rosa,
- arknights: shalem,
- assassin's creed: eivor varinsdottir,
- attack on titan: levi ackerman,
- bleach: grimmjow jaegerjaquez,
- danganronpa: fukawa toko,
- encanto: bruno madrigal,
- ennead: set,
- fe3h: claude von riegan,
- fe3h: dimitri alexandre blaiddyd,
- fe3h: felix hugo fraldarius,
- ffvii: cloud strife,
- ffvii: vincent valentine,
- ffvii: zack fair,
- ffxiv: cedrik reede,
- ffxv: noctis lucis caelum,
- hades: zagreus,
- htwmho: rudbeckia de borgia,
- marius titus: ryse son of rome,
- naruto: uzumaki naruto,
- nier replicant v. 1.22: kainé,
- original: kaito nagano,
- orv: han sooyoung,
- orv: yoo joonghyuk,
- oxenfree: jonas,
- sandman: johanna constantine,
- shadow and bone: the darkling,
- stranger things: steve harrington,
- supernatural: castiel,
- supernatural: dean winchester,
- treasure planet: jim hawkins,
- vampire hunter d: d,
- vld: keith,
- vld: takashi shirogane
MOD EVENT #001
It isn't rare for the seasons in the Netherworld to be a little erratic, though many days have passed now without much of a hint of its typical mercuriality, a good and a bad omen all at once. This respite is commonly referred to as the proverbial "calm before the storm", but it also marks the beginning of merrier celebrations. The Moons above are gilded silver, the twilight sky edged with faint pink and orange -- a sunrise phantasm, spilling over the horizon. It's an infrequent spectacle, accompanied by a dulcet breeze and light drizzles that seem to encourage growth nearly everywhere. Unfortunately, under its influence, people seem a little on edge, quick to anger, but no matter; around Stygia, Restless have begun hanging
decorations and ornaments on trees and windowsills, left to catch the moonlight and give off marigold and ginger glows, warmly lighting up the city. Rather than fish, the smell of freshly ground spices permeates the air in the Harbors, Mirth keeps its doors opened to all, but just before the festivities officially begin, a cacophony of chimes resounds all over, a transmission difficult to ignore.
On the screen of your cellphone, nothing; only a voice, ragged, out of breath...
...and the feed abruptly ends, a dull chirr of static. Will you ignore the stranger's call for help and feast, or venture into the woods?
On the screen of your cellphone, nothing; only a voice, ragged, out of breath...
“The woods... Oakwoods! They've come alive! O-One minute he was complaining about the water seeping into his boots, and the next he was... he was being yanked up into the trees! We didn’t see what happened to him, but we heard... the screams, ohh, the screams. Please! Come to Serene, I beg you. This is our safest sanctuary, and the lan... oh, no... wait, no, please... please... NOOO--”
...and the feed abruptly ends, a dull chirr of static. Will you ignore the stranger's call for help and feast, or venture into the woods?
► I. KNOCK ON WOOD (OH PUCK, HE'S HOT!)
When you cross the gates of Serene, an old woman welcomes you, palm flat against her chest and disquiet in her eyes. Myrtille, her name. Oakwoods loom dense and dark in the distance behind her, groaning low as leaves rustle without wind. The Mourning Lantern was stolen, and malevolence rose in turn, dooming them all.
So you've decided to be brave. Commendable, or foolish? The wood is dark and shrouded in mist, and the trees crowd around you, an absent wind somehow whispering foul nothings in your ear as dead leaves rustle around your feet. Your Shadow basks in the murmurs, sensing the malign presence in Oakwoods as a faint, garbled scream echoes in the distance. You wander deeper and the canopy thickens, thin streaks of moonlight peppering the woods in deep patches of darkness. Behind you, a creature you can't see hisses, and a fluttering of wings nearby alerts you to the arrival of snickering harpies lurking on branches. “Dead,” they croak, in a sing-song chorus. “Dead as daylight.” Oddly enough, they seem content to just watch and stalk you, perhaps expecting you to die quickly, an easy and effortless meal.
It's a frustrating errand if you've ever known one. You barely know what you're looking for, and your Shadow thrives in the dark, taunting, coaxing. You hear it then; a haunting melody, the silhouette of a boy on a fallen tree trunk, strumming. “Come,” he says, with a voice that shimmers like the sun on moving water. If you remember what that's like. “Rest a while. Forget your troubles.” For anyone familiar, you'll recognize him as a Puck, famous prankster, and from his hand dangles a lantern.
► If you attempt to take the lantern from him, he'll immediately drop it to the ground, causing it to break. You may choose to kill him and offer his blood to the woods, or let him go and bleed in his stead. Myrtille should be able to repair what's left of the lantern once the offering's been made.
► If you politely ask to return it, he promises that he will... if you indulge him for the night.
No matter what you choose, you will come across camps, either on your way in or on your way back: pitched tents, most moth-eaten, and some containing vestiges of prior expeditions such as putrid corpses or rotten food. You've been wandering for a while, and sleep sounds terribly inviting. Unfortunately, a wind finally picks up, and leaves begin to blow around you. A nick, then a cut, then a slash reveal the leaves to have razor sharp edges. Sleep well yet? If you've spared the Puck, he'll encourage you to sit with him around a campfire, where he'll sing and tell stories. Or are they. Perhaps you've heard of Bloody Mary before. Slenderman? The Devil that'll make you dance until you die? While the lantern remains in stranger hands, the thread between reality and fiction narrows; protagonists from the Puck's legends come to life, and the only way to rid of them is by quenching the flames of the fire.
Your journey unfortunately doesn't end there. The Puck has a riddle for you:I am a word that is hardly there. Remove my start, and I'm an herbal flair. What am I?
If you fail to answer correctly, he'll vanish before you, and you can bid the lantern goodbye. You'll be forced to gather the bones from the corpses scattered across the woods, and feed it your blood -- or a friend's -- before you escape and return to the woman. The offering will leave you drained and exhausted, weak on your legs. If, on the other hand, you do answer correctly, the lantern is yours, and you'll be teleported out of the woods with a boon in your pocket: a piece of parchment invites you to visit your home in the Shadowlands. There, you'll find an object (or a pet) that belonged to you in your world.
“It was once kept here, a sacred Artifact crafted
from the bones of Serene's first founder, who gave her heart’s
blood willingly to the woods in an act of contrition.
It's the absence of the lantern that
is contributing to the wood’s unusually active
malice, and if you lot cannot retrieve it, then we must sacrifice another. Go! Take these torches and go, before Oakwoods swallow us whole.”
So you've decided to be brave. Commendable, or foolish? The wood is dark and shrouded in mist, and the trees crowd around you, an absent wind somehow whispering foul nothings in your ear as dead leaves rustle around your feet. Your Shadow basks in the murmurs, sensing the malign presence in Oakwoods as a faint, garbled scream echoes in the distance. You wander deeper and the canopy thickens, thin streaks of moonlight peppering the woods in deep patches of darkness. Behind you, a creature you can't see hisses, and a fluttering of wings nearby alerts you to the arrival of snickering harpies lurking on branches. “Dead,” they croak, in a sing-song chorus. “Dead as daylight.” Oddly enough, they seem content to just watch and stalk you, perhaps expecting you to die quickly, an easy and effortless meal.
It's a frustrating errand if you've ever known one. You barely know what you're looking for, and your Shadow thrives in the dark, taunting, coaxing. You hear it then; a haunting melody, the silhouette of a boy on a fallen tree trunk, strumming. “Come,” he says, with a voice that shimmers like the sun on moving water. If you remember what that's like. “Rest a while. Forget your troubles.” For anyone familiar, you'll recognize him as a Puck, famous prankster, and from his hand dangles a lantern.
► If you attempt to take the lantern from him, he'll immediately drop it to the ground, causing it to break. You may choose to kill him and offer his blood to the woods, or let him go and bleed in his stead. Myrtille should be able to repair what's left of the lantern once the offering's been made.
► If you politely ask to return it, he promises that he will... if you indulge him for the night.
No matter what you choose, you will come across camps, either on your way in or on your way back: pitched tents, most moth-eaten, and some containing vestiges of prior expeditions such as putrid corpses or rotten food. You've been wandering for a while, and sleep sounds terribly inviting. Unfortunately, a wind finally picks up, and leaves begin to blow around you. A nick, then a cut, then a slash reveal the leaves to have razor sharp edges. Sleep well yet? If you've spared the Puck, he'll encourage you to sit with him around a campfire, where he'll sing and tell stories. Or are they. Perhaps you've heard of Bloody Mary before. Slenderman? The Devil that'll make you dance until you die? While the lantern remains in stranger hands, the thread between reality and fiction narrows; protagonists from the Puck's legends come to life, and the only way to rid of them is by quenching the flames of the fire.
Your journey unfortunately doesn't end there. The Puck has a riddle for you:
If you fail to answer correctly, he'll vanish before you, and you can bid the lantern goodbye. You'll be forced to gather the bones from the corpses scattered across the woods, and feed it your blood -- or a friend's -- before you escape and return to the woman. The offering will leave you drained and exhausted, weak on your legs. If, on the other hand, you do answer correctly, the lantern is yours, and you'll be teleported out of the woods with a boon in your pocket: a piece of parchment invites you to visit your home in the Shadowlands. There, you'll find an object (or a pet) that belonged to you in your world.
the answer to the riddle is sparsely! it's up to you whether you'd like your character to fail..
legends told around the campfire can be any of the ones mentioned above or any other that might strike your fancy! go wild, have fun!
remember that if you pick an item from your character's world as their boon, it'll eventually disintegrate unless reforged with a soul.
► II. GO BIG OR GOURD HOME
Welcome to the Frightful Harvest, a festival that marks the beginning of the Respite, a temporary period of tranquility between seasons. It acknowledges the blessings offered and the role that both good and evil play
in the Netherworld. It is a time to give thanks, but more
importantly, it is a time of reflection and warding. Warding against not only
the darkness of the next seasons to come, but of the nefarious
creatures and struggles that will undoubtedly follow.
Carved pumpkins and straw bales are placed everywhere around the city, and streamers and banners are hung from every home and storefront. Decadent cakes, candies, and pastries are made in over-abundance in order to accommodate everyone, and from the lush gardens of Radiance, an elderly, dark-robed man addresses the Netherwork. You'll learn by eavesdropping on nearby Restless that his name is Doran, the oldest among you and loved by all. His smile stretches kind, and while not an official member of the Hierarchy, it's clear he has certain privileges -- well-deserved, or so you hear.
And without further ado, let the festivities begin!
► BARDIC BLITZ
The bardic blitz is a friendly competition that pits talented musicians against one another in an attempt to win over the affection of the crowd through festive melodies or personal compositions. Although it can be hosted just about anywhere, the bardic blitz is normally held in a large canvas tent directly in the heart of Mirth, though smaller crowds also gather in Serene and the Harbors around bonfires.
► FEAST
Although all cultures around Stygia bring their own tastes and specific flair to the celebrations, there are a few staple trade goods that you can find at nearly any celebration of the holiday throughout the city. Many producing the various cakes, beverages, and cookies also use the time to test and perfect their recipes, teaching others or using them as guinea pigs.
The harvest hunt happens in a corn maze located in Mirth's amusement park, specifically created for the occasion. Because of the labyrinthian horrors dwelling in the Tempest, some find the terror-free replica a little inappropriate, yet participants still abound every time. A favorite seasonal game of the exuberant and athletic, characters take on the role of either hunter or prey, racing through the maze to either corner their quarry or escape the hands of their pursuer. As long as Shadows behave, it's a relatively safe activity. Friendly spars sometimes occur, picnics, and star-gazing.
► THE PARADE
The parade is the activity most looked forward to by younger Restless. Citizens clad in colorful costumes walk the streets to the rhythm of festive music, and according to tradition, it helps ward away any lingering evil that might try to hide in the community. For reasons unknown, incidents where Restless unwillingly swap bodies sometimes occur.
Carved pumpkins and straw bales are placed everywhere around the city, and streamers and banners are hung from every home and storefront. Decadent cakes, candies, and pastries are made in over-abundance in order to accommodate everyone, and from the lush gardens of Radiance, an elderly, dark-robed man addresses the Netherwork. You'll learn by eavesdropping on nearby Restless that his name is Doran, the oldest among you and loved by all. His smile stretches kind, and while not an official member of the Hierarchy, it's clear he has certain privileges -- well-deserved, or so you hear.
“Let us gather, feast, dance and celebrate. Let us hold our glasses high for those who heroically perished, for goodness, and for the Ascended. May their journey inspire us to change our lives and the lives of others, to resist evil, and to triumph. To you, dear friends!”
And without further ado, let the festivities begin!
► BARDIC BLITZ
The bardic blitz is a friendly competition that pits talented musicians against one another in an attempt to win over the affection of the crowd through festive melodies or personal compositions. Although it can be hosted just about anywhere, the bardic blitz is normally held in a large canvas tent directly in the heart of Mirth, though smaller crowds also gather in Serene and the Harbors around bonfires.
► FEAST
Although all cultures around Stygia bring their own tastes and specific flair to the celebrations, there are a few staple trade goods that you can find at nearly any celebration of the holiday throughout the city. Many producing the various cakes, beverages, and cookies also use the time to test and perfect their recipes, teaching others or using them as guinea pigs.
► Firstdawn Tea: This revitalizing crimson tea soothes the mind and body and is brewed from the roots of the dawn flower, which only sprouts during the Respite.. ► HARVEST HUNT
► Grablenuts: These fist-sized brown nuts have a hard, stippled outer shell and soft, delicious spicy centers. A single bite will slightly lower your inhibitions, and you may find yourself seeking proximity and warmth.
► Elysium: A nonalcoholic beverage that smells and looks as bad as it tastes. Only those with the strongest will manage to gulp it down. Once drunk, the person experiences true bliss, which seems to last for hours; in reality, it's only a few minutes.
► Will-o-the-Whiskey: Whisky with minor hallucinatory effects, visual and auditory.
► Sundrop: A pound cake coated in a sugary lemon drizzle. No side-effects, just delicious!
► Shadowfell Candy: Chewing on this candy will grant the character a deep and rejuvenating sleep, during which they will appear dead to anyone.
The harvest hunt happens in a corn maze located in Mirth's amusement park, specifically created for the occasion. Because of the labyrinthian horrors dwelling in the Tempest, some find the terror-free replica a little inappropriate, yet participants still abound every time. A favorite seasonal game of the exuberant and athletic, characters take on the role of either hunter or prey, racing through the maze to either corner their quarry or escape the hands of their pursuer. As long as Shadows behave, it's a relatively safe activity. Friendly spars sometimes occur, picnics, and star-gazing.
► THE PARADE
The parade is the activity most looked forward to by younger Restless. Citizens clad in colorful costumes walk the streets to the rhythm of festive music, and according to tradition, it helps ward away any lingering evil that might try to hide in the community. For reasons unknown, incidents where Restless unwillingly swap bodies sometimes occur.
► III. WAYWARD SUN
The Warding Ritual is a private affair, a behind-the-scene execution on the last day of the festival as you dance and feast and frolic, blissfully unaware. Something goes awry. First, a shriek in the distance, and soon, birds
flying away in apparent surprise as the landscape rustles with the sounds of creatures and Restless alike fleeing. A vague sense of dread knocks the air out of your lungs, an iron grip around your throat. And you see it then, a headless figure shrouded in a black veil of cloth, sword in one hand and a bright flaming pumpkin in the other. Its head. It thunders through the night on its skeletal horse, its blade flashing in the moonlight in search of prey. Heads fall. You might get injured during the chase -- collateral damage. 10 members of the Hierarchy won't ever rise again, and the rider eventually charges into the Tempest, leaving behind bloody puddles and a slather of confusion. If you opt to help clean up the mess, you might come across stained sheets of paper on the ground, a painting of a white scorpion in the middle. Otherwise, it's time for you to go home.
ooc note
► Welcome to Nightfell's first event! If you'd like additional, more casual prompts, the Notice Board is right here! New prompts will be added next month, if you've already had your fun with them!
► You'll find some answered questions here, but if you'd like to ask something else, please comment below!
► For a little spooky ambience in the woods.
toko 👯
Is this real?
Caroline (who should be dead, she went splat! on the ground, right? Sure, she didn't check her pulse or anything but there was so much blood) is standing by herself. She looks as beautiful and as indifferent as ever and Lottie feels something grip her chest. A strange and horrific amalgamation of fear, anxiety, and relief. Caroline turns, wears her tank and sweatpants like they're designer, and calls out —
'Found you.'
It's a display that's, quite frankly, a little weird to witness if you can't see it. Lottie's staring at virtually nothing, experiencing such an intense mix of emotions. All before stumbling her way forward and wrapping her arms around nothing, tears building up at the corners of her eyes. ]
Caroline...?
[ Is this real? She hopes it is. Lottie's a cool mix between trying to play it cool and not trying to cry on Caroline's shirt, staring at the space above her (to her eyes, she's checking for her skull, her wounds, what does she remember?). And also, completely oblivious to anything around her. A terrible combination when she's so into what's happening, so sure that something good is finally happening to her. She grips at nothing (what she thinks to be fabric, long strands of black mixed in the bunch), her head is tilted down, nuzzling into something that makes her sigh. Lashes flutter open, on the verge of asking Caroline if she's going crazy, but what comes out instead is a small: ]
Are you.. [ She swallows, ] How did you find me? How did you know?
[ It's just dark enough into the night that it may almost seem like Lottie isn't hallucinating her ass off from the whiskey she had (their drink, the same thing they had on their first date). But it isn't dark enough to hide the fact that she's 1) alone, and 2) clearly has taken too long on her pee break to meet back with Toko by the snack table!! ]
ladies night in the ghost district
By now Fukawa's got half a mind to pee herself. She's supposed to hold their spot and mind their grub, but it's getting irritating, and she's not that hungry. Seriously, Lottie was so self-centered!
At last she's had enough. Fukawa swoops away from the table and towards the toilets, seething under her breath. It's not long before she's found the dim length of alley they've cordoned off for lavatories.
And in that lean light, she spots her roommate. At first she thinks she's crying. But the way she's holding her arms isn't quite right. Like she's doing some sort of...Russian kick dance? Or dancing with a ghost.
Fukawa frowns. What is this? Should she — what's that Lottie's saying?]
...I f-followed the signs to the bathroom. [She scoffs, taking sour strides closer. Come on, how else would she have found her?] You're sure t-taking your sweet time out here. Your tea is getting cold. Don't blame me if it's undrinkable by the time you get back!
just a couple of ghouls out on the town
Her arms draw away when she's good and done, right in time with her roommate announcing her presence. Lottie swings around to look at her, caught off guard and — her eyes trail somewhere to the side, idly working around the fact Caroline is roaming into an open restroom hollering how she has to pee.
Her eyes, then, finally meet Fukawa's. There's a moment of silence after she's done reprimanding her, and another moment where she visibly realizes what she's done. And that, well, she's been crying. ]
Shit, I'm so sorry, [ It's actually genuine, because she did forget that she even came here with somebody. ] I.. I just ran into somebody!
[ She moves to wipe at her eyes, resolves to just fix her makeup when they're actually seated. But she doesn't move, quite yet. Simply stands and fiddles with the rings adorning her fingers, ]
We can go!! I already used it.. The bathroom.
no subject
Or something more worrisome.]
R-ran into who? [And this is ridiculous, are they going to have this conversation standing ten meters apart? Fukawa edges into the alley, rubbing at her knuckles and still surveying the place with a scowl. At least until she gets close enough to see light reflect from Lottie's face in patches, thin lines that curve under her chin.]
Wh-what? Were you crying? Did this person... [Words fail her. She's standing in front of her roommate with nothing but a baffled expression and a dimming need to piss. The toilet can wait.] Wh-what happened, was someone threatening you or something? Don't lie!
[Just "ran into somebody." Who was she kidding? Someone had said something awful, at the very least!]
no subject
..Not at all because Caroline is in there???
(She should be done by now, right????) ]
N-no it's not anything like that!! It's..
[ That hand covering her face swings down to use the sleeve of her costume to rub at her face, temporarily ridding her of those tear stains and whatever might have been lingering beneath her nose (she's fine and clear of all boogers, but just in case!!). She's gesturing with her other hand vaguely as she tries to figure out how to explain this without.. Sounding weird? 'The girl who died before me just showed up, but it's not a big deal and it's not like I care but also don't be weird if she comes over it's just friend stuff?'
She tries to clear her throat, before promptly saying, ] Hold on. [ Lottie turns away to hack up something to spit on the ground, her voice sounding clearer after the fact. She glances over her shoulder, a thought hitting her — ]
Did someone threaten you here before? Besides those reaper guys??
[ Are there more weirdos in this city??? ]
no subject
Though when she turns to spit Fukawa cringes. She'd never seen such a pretty girl pull such a crude stunt. What was going on with her?]
Are you... [Sick? She doesn't get the chance to ask, because now the questioning is flipped back around on her. Fukawa squawks, shakes her head vigorously.] Wh-what? No! No, people just ignore me!
[As usual. She grunts and rubs at her temple, fixes her glasses.]
Th-though I expect there's plenty of freaks and assholes in the bunch...this d-definitely isn't a place for saints, that's for sure. [With a long-suffering breath, she takes in Lottie a second time. Clearly upset, pulling weird gestures, lingering in suspicious alleys. Something was seriously wrong, why couldn't she just cough it up?] Forget about me. What's going on here? You were just crying alone in the dark. And your arms were all...
[She holds up hers in a vague approximation.]
Like you were, I don't even kn-know. Stretching?
no subject
But the thing is.. She doesn't.
Even as her roommate shows concern and worry, does the weirdest pose trying to say that's what Lottie looked like just now, there is nothing. Not even the sound of a faucet being turned on, not the sound of a toilet flushing, nothing. She's turned to face her fully, now, settling on the fact Caroline is just being her usual self.
Hard to read and dead set on messing with Lottie, even in death. ]
No, you just caught me after meeting my friend? I'd never do any of that alone, that's.. I would never!!
[ She reassures her, making an effort to squash the idea any of those jerks or weirdos did this to her. Lottie tries to tell her through her eyes that she's telling the truth, that this is all some weird misunderstanding because Fukawa's glasses aren't working (clearly, it is the Glasses). ]
You must've seen the back of her head! She has really long and pretty black hair.. It must've, I don't know, hid her? But she's real. I touched her. She just went to pee!
no subject
[Oh. Oh no. She's seen this trope before.
Fukawa's face warps to something pained as Lottie babbles on. The description is about as useful as screen door on a submarine. She grimaces, and wonders to herself whether being in the literal underworld nixes the existence of ghosts. They're ghosts, just much fleshier and mortal than anyone expected. Could some of them become incorporeal again? Just by virtue of passing time, or perhaps failing to find a soulmate?
Either that, or the girl is losing her mind.]
Lottie, there's no one here. [It's said firmly. She's got her gaze held straight on, a confidence rare to see from a girl so often lost to glowers and mutterings.] You w-were alone when I walked over here. And you can't hide a whole person with just hair.
[Come on. Shadows could only do so much.]
You m-must have imagined it. How much have you had to drink, anyway?
no subject
Lottie almost bites this out, feeling more childish than ever before, but it's the tone that Fukawa speaks to her that makes her clamp her mouth shut. She's talking to her in a tone she's wanted her to take for what feels like weeks, and she's doing it because she's gaslighting Lottie? Stubbornly, she thinks that Esther wouldn't do this. Esther would say, 'Oh boy. One of those days, huh?' and have her a donut and her favorite cup of coffee. Soothe her ego with metaphorical kisses.
She'd hold her hand and tell her everything she'd need to hear and Lottie would keen, because she's always right.
In the weirdest, dumbest way, she can tell that Fukawa is also right. Maybe. Lottie's hands flex, eyes flicking down to stare at them in the silence that follows her question. ]
It's her thing, she does that all the time! The dramatic shadow thing it's like, normal.
[ She tries to argue, to make her understand by appealing using the one thing she has: logic. ]
And I didn't even drink! I only had some tea and snacks. And like, one whiskey drink. But I'm not that much of a lightweight at all! [ She finally brings those hands up, gesturing, voice turning soft. ] I touched her. She has to be real! That's the first thing I always check for!
no subject
[It's not her motivations being called into question though. It's Lottie's sanity, which is something she ought to be more sympathetic about. H̢͖̺a̠̠͓r͎̼d̟̺ t̙͔͎o͖̺͎ b̺͉͜e̫̠̝a̘̻͖t͕͇̠ t͎͕͇h̺͙̟e͓̙̞ l̡̼͓i̡͜t̢͖̼e̢͔͓r̠̻͜a̪̻͉l̝̟ p̟͕̘s͕̪y͉͜c̪͚h͚͙͙o̠̘͍p̪͇͔a̢̺̼t͚͕͕h̡͇̟,̞͔͜ h͎̪u̡̝͖h͉͙̙?̡͇̙
Fukawa grimaces, clenches her fists. Lottie isn't just indignant, there's a hurt there. Something in the way she holds her hands up puts Fukawa's guts in a vice. She hasn't heard her tread so close to tenderness before. She was always perky and perfect, maybe flummoxed at Fukawa's graceless interjections, but overall? The babe was bulletproof.
Until tonight. Whoever this specter was, they meant a lot to Lottie. Enough to drag tears out. Have her barking back at common sense. How would she feel if she thought she saw Komaru?
So just calm down a little. Think about this. Convincing people needs evidence. So, what would Kirigiri do?]
You s-said she went to...relieve herself, right? [Pee, whatever. She's crass but not in that sense, and she doesn't want to piss Lottie off further. Fukawa backs up, closing in on the door. She takes the handle without looking.] Fine. Let's go get her.
[She swings the door open.
The bathroom lays untouched. Just as empty and dim as Lottie left it.]
1/2
So when she finally relents, visibly centers herself, Lottie is ready for some kind of apology (maybe not a sorry, but something that at least conveys that she's sorry for making her feel insane!). That doesn't happen, though. What happens is that instead of just waiting for Caroline, they're going to barge into her stall like some maniacs!!
]
..What the heck?! You don't just open a stall when someone's in it —
[ Lottie is a growing mess of worry and bubbling irritation. Equal bouts fretting over Caroline being upset and equal parts angry that Fukawa just won't believe her. The weirdest part, is that if she has to pinpoint it, it's the latter that's making her infinitely more volatile when the door is swung open and..
There's nothing. ]
no subject
But the last time that happened she saw a ghost, a dead person, and it was real. Yolanda Sinclair in all her Ghostgirl glory mattered, cast real fear into Lottie when she asked what facemask she was wearing as the specter bled out from a deep wound to her head. And Caroline died. She saw that happen, too. Whose to say that isn't the case, this time?
Caroline had weird powers anyway, maybe.. Whose to say she can't have them, now? ]
Okay, so?? She left.
[ Despite her words, Lottie does not sound confident. She sounds distant, feels cold and stupid. Embarrassed and silly. Does Caroline think this is funny? Trip and fall off a cliff and make her feel all nice and warm, for what? But she would've heard the door. Maybe? Fuck. She isn't sure. Wouldn't Fukawa see it?
She glances to her out of the corner of her eye for a long, heavy, moment. Maybe. Her head hurts — ]
People leave bathrooms like all the time. It's not a big deal..
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[Come on now.
She rights her glasses and studies her roommate. There's doubt creeping in there, she looks unsteady on her feet, but Fukawa doesn't want her to topple. She kind of likes her, even. Shocker, she knows. They're two ends of a very broad spectrum on girlhood, and there's a nine year gap and three cup sizes between them. In Fukawa's experience none of that adds up to anything more than spite.
Except Lottie had taken her in. She's put up with her bullshit, didn't pester her or pressure her into changing. Even hung out with her in public and helped with the chores. It's not the same as a true friendship, but more than anyone Lottie has been a constant for her in this dank pit. She doesn't want to repel her. And besides all that, she doesn't think she's going crazy.
Fukawa takes a soft step forward. Her hands are still wrung at her chest, but she's lost some of the edge in her voice.]
I d-don't think you're losing it. I think maybe this place... [She trails off. Rewinds the events of the night.] Some of the people are acting weird at the feast, too. After you left, that guy n-next to us? With the ugly red hat?
[They'd quietly assassinated him for it behind cupped hands and secret sniggers.]
He'd started talking to an empty chair. And he was d-drinking the same stuff you were. It's possible there's some kind of mystic bullshit going on, or m-maybe some stuff got spiked. But whatever it is, it's just...trying to show you what you want to see.
It's okay, if you miss somebody that much. [Her lips press thin. Her gaze drifts to the side, a sudden vice clenching around her middle.] I k-keep tricking myself too, when the crowds are big enough.
[When she spots certain haircuts, a similar cut of a suit. It's hard not to hope for familiar faces.]
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Actually, why is she looking at her like that??? Like.. Lottie's lip halfheartedly press into a line, swallowing down whatever nasty words she thinks might be dancing at her tongue, at the forefront of her mind. She forces herself to actually pay attention, to listen to Fukawa and settle her nerves.
These feel like all insurmountable tasks.
But it gets a little more realistic when Fukawa introduces the target of their mutual dislike, the man sitting beside them who thought he looked great in that fire engine red hat. The memory of them ripping him to shreds at their table for two makes the edges of her lips curl up, the smallest bit. Not enough to be considered a complete smile, but just enough to let her know that Lottie isn't wholly lost in her delusion. ]
..Really?
[ It's hesitant, could almost be construed as a small sound from the pipes from how quiet her voice is. Her own hands wring at her hair, slender fingers combing through her length. Leave it to these two to have a talk about seeing things, people, in an open bathroom stall — and the dumbest thing is, she doesn't mind? Doesn't even particularly feel as hurt as a few moments ago, when she thought Caroline up and left. It ebbs away and melds into something new at Fukawa's admission, because she can tell it's not easy to say.
Probably tastes just as acidic on her tongue as the words Lottie has been spouting this entire time, have been. ]
I thought I was the only one that did that?
i legit can't remember if I've ever used this smile icon, it's yours now
Fukawa sighs, but it ends in something rare: a quirk at the side of her mouth. Born from fondness, not derision.]
Seriously? Wh-what do you think? [She waves a hand to the open door, where the rest of the underworld awaits.] Every day I think I've seen someone I know. And it's never them. Which is w-weird, because lots of people are dead.
[Nevermind that the people she most wants to see are the living. Komaru. Byakuya-sama, Naegi, Kirigiri. Even the dipshit duo. Being the last ones standing pulled a thin thread between them, and it's devastating that her end was the only one that snapped off. Even if she had no hope of reaching them, it would have been reassuring to find her old classmates too. They hadn't liked her more than anyone else did, but she wanted to tell them everything.
Tell them she's sorry.
Oof, is that a tear coming? Fukawa goes to adjust her glasses and very, very subtly wipes it away.]
So don't act all embarrassed on me. You're not th-that special.
[Her hands are back on her tie, worrying the fraying edges. She glances around. Enough. That's enough tenderness for one day. Also?]
...Um. I really have to pee.