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vestigelogs2020-07-20 07:46 pm
vestigemods) wrote in vestigelogs2020-07-20 07:46 pm
(event) SHATTER & DECAY
EVENT LOG: SHATTER & DECAY
JULY 21ST - 27TH
► IF THERE'S NOTHING BUT PAIN, PUT IT ON ME
- On the morning of the 21st, the sun dawns peacefully over the crystalline lake just as it has every day for nearly three weeks now. Birdsong melodies soften the crisp edge to the morning air, and woodland creatures retreat from many a cabin backyard, unhurried but unwilling to contend with the cabin's residents as they wake. It's... peaceful, more so than one might expect after such a dire fate spelled out in the pamphlets upon your arrival. Perhaps, after many such days, it has managed to lull you into a sense of something like security.
Today we'll be learning a valuable lesson on why that is, in fact, a mistake.
Sometime between the 21st & 22nd, you begin to feel a bit... off. Perhaps the source is apparent at once, the ends of your fingers or toes going stiff and crystalline or swelling and blooming in small rotting sores. Perhaps the source of your discomfort is a bit less clear as your senses begin to sharpen or dull. But make no mistake, this is only the beginning.
As time passes, your situation only worsens. The glass or decay carves a slow but steady path up your limb or limbs. Your sharp senses begin to overwhelm you. Your dull senses muffle altogether. Soon, you may not be alone in your own mind, bombarded by the omnipresent thoughts and feelings of those around you in a way that you can't seem to hide from. Or worse - maybe there's no one around you, and yet you hear whispers in your mind all the same... Whispers which turn to yelling and screams and sharp violent emotions and imagery you can't simply close your eyes to because it exists inside your head.
But there is a solution.
It's detailed inside your new coffee-table centerpiece, a book bound roughly in leather and written in a language none here know or can recognize. All you know is that this book was not here last night. Not far from the book's front cover, you'll find two pages of illustrations with a page of text between them. One depicts humans holding their heads as if in distress, then cutting themselves or one another, then no longer holding their heads in distress. The next depicts much the same, but instead of a their heads they hold a discolored arm or leg... and instead of simply drawing blood, it shows them rubbing one another's blood on their discolored limbs. Skimming the rest of the book will find a dozen or so pages roughly torn from the bindings. Perhaps those were further illustrations. You may never know.
Besides - you have more pressing issues to attend to. Like bleeding, or finding someone else to, in order to make this stop.
You who only suffer the mental effects are lucky, in a sense. Your condition is deeply uncomfortable but it almost definitely isn't fatal. If you've found your limb crystallizing or rotting away, however, you have little choice but to seek a solution or resign yourself to a distinctly unpleasant death.
Regardless of which effects may be lingering, you'll find blessed relief at midnight on the 27th. Over the course of an hour, your senses will fade back into their proper strength, the unwanted guests will evacuate your mind, and the glass or rot will recede from your limbs to leave them just as they were before this veritable nightmare of a week.
Now, it's time to breathe, to recover, and to lick your figurative wounds.
► MOD NOTES
- This log is a general dump for all log threads pertaining to July's Shatter & Decay event! Feel free to utilize vestigenet for any event-related network posts you'd like to make.
- The event takes place from July 21st - 27th. All characters begin to experience effects by mid-22nd at the latest. Any event effects lingering at midnight on the 27th fade away over the course of an hour, in much the same way as they would if provided sufficient blood during the event itself.
- All event information (in detail rather than the flavortext I've provided) can be found on the July Event Infopost!
- Important semantics reminder! While you can have a character experience both psych and body horror within the event, both must be either rot or glass, not mix and match.
- Limbs lost or irreversibly damaged to this event reappear next time your character sleeps (as early as right when the event ends) unless you OOCly choose for them to retain the loss, in which case they instead regain the limb upon their next death + respawn. (If your character doesn't sleep, they go offline/fall unconscious and return to consciousness with the limb fixed.)
- Any questions can be directed to this top-level or, for a quicker response, to Trace on discord/plurk.
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fine! fine. if sizhui insists. wei wuxian huffs out a surrender, letting himself sink down into the couch just enough that his head can fall comfortably back against the cushion. his hand falls away from sizhui's, turning palm-up to minimize the dripping as it waits. )
'Master Wei', ( he echoes, lips curling faintly at one corner. ) You've insisted on taking my life itself into your hands, I think you can call me 'Wei Ying'. ( perhaps that first bit's a little dramatic, but one of them has to keep him from bleeding out and lan sizhui has all but begged to be the one to do it. )
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channeling energy into the injuries until they stop bleeding doesn't take as long as it might if he were waiting for them to actually close. still, there is a little extra push of energy before he moves onto the other arm, either ignoring or completely unaware of the blood smears staining his hands. could sincerely be a bit of both, considering the words out of wei wuxian's mouth a couple moments later.
“wei ying,” he offers in exchange and wow, sizhui's throat is abruptly tight with emotion again, but it doesn't outweigh his resilience to offer something important, something just as priceless in kind:] Lan Yuan.
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he switches arms as soon as it seems to stop gushing blood, though wei wuxian isn't entirely trusting of the integrity of the clot, isn't willing to move his arms all that much to find out how easily they'll reopen. he really is just mortal now, and unless he calls resentment energy to bolster him, he can die of bloodloss just as easily. no need to scare this boy with any more of a near-death experience than his bloody return in itself may have been.
aha, and now they've exchanged names. ) Lan Yuan, ( another echo, too warm, too fond, because - ) A more common name than I'd thought. You share it with my - ( his momentum stutters a bit at what to call a-yuan, and it cracks the door just enough for something much more profound to burst in. something that hits him square in the chest before he can even properly process what it is that's hitting him, his mind so much more sluggish right now than his heart and his soul. his brows flicker not unlike a quiet flinch, his exhale heavy as if he really has been struck -
and then he's sitting halfway up in a rush, one hand wrapping around the boy's wrist (sorry about the blood), the other lifting to catch the side of this lan yuan's face so wei ying can look at it. scrutinize it, his eyes, the shape of his face, the roundness of his cheeks - just like they've always been.
oh.
his mouth has hung slightly open through much of this, and now he closes it just long enough to swallow hard, his next exhale catching like a helpless laugh-breath. ) A-Yuan. ( a single word, full to the brim with both certainty and abject disbelief, if such a thing is even possible. fuck, his eyes are burning now too, he's far too tired to have any restraint in such things right now.
wei wuxian's mind is reeling, able to recognize that this revelation is so much bigger than simply 'a-yuan is here' but he's lost too much blood, he's too dizzy, he's exhausted, and for all his brilliance he still finds himself grasping uselessly at sand. for now, a smile twitches in the corners of his lips, flickering once and then twice but too overcome to fasten in place - so instead, wei ying bites at his bottom lip for a second and then, ) You're so grown up. ( it's barely more than a whisper. he can't quite trust his voice right now. )
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it's good wei wuxian doesn't fidget too much, means sizhui won't have to scold him and demand he sit still or else the wounds may continue bleeding. there is the fabric he's planning on using for a makeshift bandage on one arm, which means he'll have to fetch something else for the other, even though it'll end up waiting. an unimportant thing compared to his name being repeated so fondly, it aches deep inside his chest.
he swallows thickly, head inclining further and further the more wei wuxian talks. please, don't let this have been a mistake... because it's really starting to feel like one the longer he crouches here and especially after ‘you share it with my—’ that's it, isn't it? the secret's out now: lan sizhui is lan yuan is wen yuan.
right about then is whenever a hand catches his wrist, causes him to look toward it, eyes already so wide, it's a wonder they can get any wider. but they do after wei wuxian's other hand catches his face and he lets his mouth fall open too, quite obviously stunned by the abrupt gesture; he understands, just hadn't expected.
and oh, the noise he lets out in response to the affectionate nickname sounds totally undignified, so pathetic it's almost painful.] Y-Yes, [he reassures despite it sounding breathless, regardless of the stutter.
but gods forbid, he wait for a better moment. no, it just had to be dropped on him now while he's suffering from blood loss and has the chance of tearing himself back open from overexcitement. (it's fine, sizhui can heal him as much as necessary.) his turn for something possibly inappropriate at the moment: laughter, sounding abrupt and rude and so many words, yet the only other thing he's able to manage is leaning up to hook the arm not being held around wei wuxian's shoulders in an embrace.]
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when they finally part, his eyes are damp and he's just going to pretend not to notice that fact, an inexcusable fondness in the smile that lingers on his lips whether or not he wants it to. dutifully he offers his arm back out for care, but this isn't over, not by a long shot. because as this sinks in, another detail stands out to him... )
Lan Yuan. ( he said it once before, but now it means something thoroughly different. a little shake of his head, almost disbelieving the possibility of it even as he says, ) Because of Lan Zhan, isn't it? ( it has to be. not for any practical reason - of which there are probably plenty, which he might happen upon in the morning when his thoughts are clearer - but because he feels the truth of it right in his gut. lan zhan, whose leg little a-yuan hugged. whose lap he commandeered, got permission to commandeer. whose wallet he all but looted for toy after toy. there's no way that a-yuan made it to cloud recesses by coincidence. it had to be lan zhan. )
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he's still weepy-eyed too, unsurprisingly, but he manages a halfhearted smile in kind then gets back to his earlier task. what little fabric he does have right now gets looped and looped around wei wuxian's left arm, snug but not uncomfortably so. it will have to do for now until he can possibly get ahold of graham and ask about those extra first-aid supplies again.
“because of lan zhan, isn't it?” sizhui doesn't immediately answer, just finishes knotting the bandage, giving his handiwork a fleeting once-over. then his attention flickers up to meet wei ying's, lips pressed tight, head nodding with affirmation.] It is. He took me in, I owe him my life. [how much should he actually reveal? will telling matter when they'll likely return home with no memory of this whatsoever? he doesn't know, but what he's said is harmless enough and it's true; hanguang-jun did save him from the burial mounds. part of him desperately wants to let loose everything he knows, everything he's remembered, but letting what he's already revealed sink in might be courteous.]
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like the confirmation that it was, indeed, lan zhan who whisked the boy off to the cloud recesses. there's a significance in that, one that he can't put his finger on right now but will certainly be considering throughout most of his waking hours for the next few days. the question it begs is not one that sizhui can answer, so it burns inside wei ying instead: was it for me? it has been the better part of a year since he has seen or heard from lan zhan, and as each day goes by, he inches closer and closer to convincing himself that he has perhaps become irrelevant to lan zhan - has become a stranger, by necessity if nothing else, because why else would he not have returned?
but one day, he takes young a-yuan under his wing. into his sect, even, to be raised as lan. does it matter if it was for wei wuxian? so long as the boy grew up happy, healthy - and he certainly seems to have done just that.
a thought strikes him, and he finds himself grinning again, shaking with quiet laughter. before sizhui can ask, he says - ) I asked if you'd heard of me. Twice. ( well - the second was 'i thought you'd heard of me', but regardless, wei wuxian feels more than a little bit foolish.
he also called him 'some disciple i've never met', in the same breath that he said that he had no plans to die for him. doubly the fool, for that.
that recollection sobers his laughter a bit, and it fades into a considering hum. it may at first seem like he's considering the bandaging handiwork, since that's where his eyes are resting - but then a quiet, ) So. Shall I call you Sizhui, or A-Yuan? ( he's made a careful attempt to keep the question light, casual, so that the boy doesn't feel pressured to allow a familiarity he might not be comfortable with. )
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perhaps it's best they've forgone discussing the ins and outs of how he came to cloud recesses, what led to it and why. mostly because revealing something wei wuxian shouldn't even know yet won't make anything better about their current situation. he wants things settled, not riled; calm, cool and collected so there aren't any other unannounced surprises while wei wuxian's supposed to be still (or as still as possible). should the question eventually arise, he'll answer truthfully, he has no reason not to. hanguang-jun must've rescued him both for wei wuxian and the simple fact he was a child who deserved a chance.
and if there's one thing beyond question: it's that sizhui definitely grew up happy and healthy, safe underneath hanguang-jun's ever-watchful eye— ah, well, only zewu-jun's first, but just for a few years.
sizhui glances up from where he's considering the sleeves of his robes, eyebrows lifting with contemplation, an amused grin quirking his own lips at wei wuxian's remark.] Yes, I know. [he didn't forget, more than likely won't anytime soon. of course he knows the yiling patriarch, the boy just also knows an entirely different side of him as a guardian.
with the slightest head-tilt and some thoughtful humming, his arms lower, palms upturned to avoid any other unnecessary stains then he says,] Please, call me whatever feels most comfortable for you. I'll answer to whichever one you choose. While you think about it, [he pauses, pushes back somewhat then moves to stand.] I'm going to my room for a moment to look for more bandages, okay? Don't move around too much or you might tear something.
[there's a brief, playfully(?) threatening narrow of the eyes, he smirks and turns on his heel, hurrying down the hallway toward his bedroom for the aforementioned provisions.]
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for now, he manages to look innocent (too innocent, perhaps) at the narrowed eyes - but to his credit, his movements are minor and mostly geared toward settling in a bit more comfortably. to his distinct delight, he finds that the outermost fingers on his left hand once again curl when he wills them to, a tribute to the power of qi healing even for one without a golden core.
...oh. it occurs to him now that he forgot to mind such a thing, what with the revelations of the past few minutes, but the junior made no indication that he noticed anything amiss. did wei wuxian really get through the entirety of a qi healing session without his coreless state coming to bear? he's decidedly failing to question his good fortune further than that, greeting the boy upon his return with, ) So actually, I've decided you'll answer to whichever one you choose. Sorry to say it, but that's just how this is going to go.
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joke's on this foolish boy it would seem because as he's returning with the bandages graham had given him, wei wuxian's prepared to turn the choice back around on him. that's fine too, he'll make the decision, but it means he's finally approaching the subject on everyone's minds alongside that while he continues bandaging whatever injuries still need it.]
A-Yuan, [sizhui answers immediately, his earlier smile quirking somewhat higher then fading just as quickly once he decides it's about time they address the final thing on his mind,] And A-Yuan wants to know something: why is your qi different? Why did it take longer for you to heal? [why is this so blatantly wei wuxian yet also not in a sense and if he's being honest, does he want to know the actual answer to this question? (no, it's likely he doesn't.)]
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the grin flags, however, in the face of the question that comes. 'why is your qi different?' that and the question that follows are two flavors of precisely what he'd hoped to avoid. that's what he gets for dwelling on such things, it's as if he thought about it just hard enough that this terribly observant boy caught wind of it.
he watches the boy's face for a long moment - a-yuan's face, grown but so unmistakably his - watches his features shift slightly in a collected focus reflecting well beyond his years. how much would wei ying have been able to tell his a-yuan? how much can he tell this boy that lan zhan raised? )
Haven't they taught you anything? ( teasing words, but his tone is too quiet, too carefully steady. as if none of this is a joke, but joke-phrasing is the only way he'll be able to get the words out. ) You should know that such qi techniques hardly work on one without a golden core. ( and there it is. )
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wei wuxian's hesitation speaks volumes; the lan disciple knew he shouldn't have asked, was well-aware it'd likely be something he wouldn't have wanted to hear anyway, and yet he'd opened his mouth regardless of knowing. his adoptive father's lingering stare doesn't do much in the way of comfort, either.
just when he thinks he'll end up looking away, wei ying finally musters up a teasing remark, something that makes sizhui's lips momentarily twitch upward again, even though it hardly reaches his eyes. not like it matters whenever the following comment reveals the truth— the yiling patriarch currently lacks a golden core. well, that might explain a few things and as pieces start falling into place, he wonders,] Tell me what happened?
[and while wei wuxian clarifies (because you can bet he's expecting an explanation), he'll work on getting the other arm bandaged before it reopening becomes a possibility.]
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It was a gift, ( he says, as if such a thing were so simple. ) For someone who needed it much more than I, someone whose core was melted away when a man still lived who could do such a thing.
( by now one arm is fully bandaged and the other is nearly so, and he watches ever-so-patiently as a-yuan secures the bandaging in place. the moment he's finished, wei ying sits up in his spot and hooks an arm around the boy, dragging him in to wrap both arms tight around him in a proper hug. )
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Gifts can be returned, [the boy murmurs, gently creasing his thumb over the bandage near wei ying's wrist.] What you've done? Is more precious than can be put into words. [a beat] I didn't even know there was someone who could do that to another cultivator... or that there was a way to give someone else your core.
[another press here, a quick twist there and he's done, readying to withdraw so perhaps the handiwork can be assessed. instead, an arm circles his shoulders, tugs him in until wei wuxian's other arm joins the one already around him to draw him in even further. he's glad the embrace is as tight as it is, takes advantage of the position by burying his face into his shoulder and cinching both arms around the man in kind, squeezing tighter when he feels that all too familiar burn of tears again.]
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wei ying's next exhale is shaky, lips pressing together at once as he silently scolds himself for it with what little shred of dignity that still tries to stand in defiance of all that he currently feels. his fingers curl, tightening around handfuls of robe, and after a long moment he says - )
I hope - ( pardon him, swallowing hard to try again, pressing the side of his face now to a-yuan's hair. ) I hope that I've been there for you, growing up - and if I haven't-... ( he refuses to let his mind spiral into why that might be, now's not the time if there ever is one.
he nearly says, 'then i hope you can forgive me', but he doesn't get to ask for that. instead, ) Know that I wanted to be.
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gods, the shaky breath makes him squeeze tighter, his own hands reaching until they catch his elbows and momentarily hold in an almost too-tight grip— before he relaxes again and hooks his chin over wei ying's shoulder.]
I know that you wanted to be. [confirmation without being straightforward: wei ying would've been there if he hadn't died during the battle at nightless city, he knows this—
a trembling breath of his own then sizhui reluctantly withdraws, tilts his gaze upward to meet wei wuxian's, one hand moving as well so he can wipe his eyes.] It's not as if you had a choice in the matter... but it's alright because as you said: Hanguang-jun was there! [he laughs, a bit unsteadily though his words don't waver,] And you're here now.
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if something happens to shijie, something he could have prevented, he can very much picture a wei wuxian who no longer can stand to face the world outside, even if a-yuan (and lan zhan) is out there in it.
teeth close on his bottom lip, and he nods a little nod. but that has to be enough, because he's not sure he can talk about this anymore, what with the bloodloss-fog in his head and pressure in his chest (it's technically a good pressure, but even good can be overwhelming and this very much is). and so he huffs out a sheepish laugh-breath, settles back on the couch a bit more, and says - ) Ah, it's so late. I don't mean to keep you. I know you Lan sorts have your sleeping hours and this is very much past them.
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boringstudies himself, though!) regardless of practically having to start over, he'll show no hesitation, just like with wen ning.at least there's one good(?) thing about horrortown: wei wuxian gets his sister back and that's something sizhui's willing to protect no matter what.
there's blatant relief in the way he slackens, shoulders slumping beneath a comfortable, satisfied weight. he's also fine with leaving that conversation where it's at, watching as his adoptive father leans back and remarks about the lan sleep schedule. well, they've been pretty straightforward with each other thus far, so.] It's okay, I haven't been upholding the rule too well. Sleeping here is... difficult sometimes. [both arms momentarily reach above his head in a stretch then he clambers upright, gives his blood-stained front a once-over, gaze darting back up afterward.] Can I possibly help you to your room or are you comfortable on the sofa?
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ah, but he's peering up at sizhui again now, because - ) But stay for a moment - you haven't slept well? Is it just since the rot, or before that?
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[perhaps standing might've been premature, he does stay however, mouth tightening and hands clasping together behind his back.] Before that. I was [pause] anxious about sleeping someplace I'd never been.
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Mm, and a whole room to yourself. You Lan boys share dormitories, don't you? ( his bandaged arms stretch up above his head now, getting in a good shoulder stretch, as he says - ) Well, if it's ever too quiet you're welcome to bunk in my room as you please. I'm sure we could rustle up a cot or something.
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wei wuxian's offer hits deep within his chest, stirs something – possibly a memory? – that has sizhui reaching to touch his temple, expression momentarily creasing. no, it's... too fuzzy, much to his dismay. right now, however, it has him grinning and accepting without hesitation.] I'd like that. One day, we'll put something together, even if it's just a nest of blankets.
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Don't underestimate a nest of blankets! I've had excellent naps in nests of blankets. ( granted he was much younger then. it's quite a bit harder to get away with once you're of a certain age (which they both certainly are, but who's to stop them?). )
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I have more than a few blankets in my room, it's been far too hot to use many of them, though. [they stay folded up in a corner on a chair, which makes him think he should maybe see if anyone else needs one, but not until the heat dies down.] The nights seems a bit cooler, however, so perhaps it wouldn't be so bad?
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