lifeaftr | October Event: Crystal Clear

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October Event: Crystal Clear

OCTOBER EVENT: CRYSTAL CLEAR

Who: Everyone!
What: Your exploration takes a turn.
When: October 20th - 26th
Where: The caverns situated underneath Ensō
Warnings: Character death, body horror, descriptions of illness. Please mark any additional warnings as needed!

Part I: Attack, Attack!
Congratulations! You've successfully gone where no Storyteller has gone or can go, and woken up in the network of subterranean caves buried beneath the island's mass, along with your designated supplies: a miner's cap, a week's worth of food, and both your knapsacks and their collective contents. And the further along you go, the vaster and more sprawling these almost labyrinthian tunnels seem to get. There’s certainly evidence that civilization once thrived here - old buildings hewed from the rock of the cave walls may very well contain old tools, or even salvageable supplies. Careful examination of structures and cavern walls alike will reveal sigils resembling those carved on the doors, each of which will need to be destroyed entirely at the Storyteller's behest. Whatever was down here was advanced enough to dwell without sunlight. But that raises a rather pertinent question...

If there were once people here, where did they all go?

Fortunately, one will soon discover that there's plenty of natural light underground, exhibited by the crystalline growths on the walls. None of them appear to be dangerous, and those attracted to shiny things might even find them useful for picking up or chipping away in order to better light their way. The crystal has about the thickness and hardness of quartz, and bathes its surroundings in a luminous green glow.

The closer you come to the center of the mass, however, the denser the crystalline growths seem to become, until one has to be quite ingenious in navigating them. Eventually, they'll simply be too dense to be squeezed through, even by the smallest and most agile of your number.

That’s when they it will start to become apparent.

Something in the crystal is moving.

Huge chunks of crystal are starting to detach from the center and move slowly, inexorably, toward those unfortunate enough to have explored the caverns. Unmistakably humanoid silhouettes, distorted by awful crystalline growths, most of which have completely swallowed any recognizable features.

...most.

The good news is that the creatures can be shattered, and beaten back. The bad news? Well...

Part II: Retreat, Retreat!
Those who get close enough to the crystalized beasts to get a good look at them will soon make a horrifying discovery - the fact that, underneath those thick layers of luminescent quartz, there was once something that might have been recognizable as human. These quartz monsters aren't native to this region, or indeed, to any region of the island at all. They were formed.

Formed out of the very crystal that you explorers have been touching, picking up, sleeping on, and just generally remaining in prolonged contact with ever since you set foot down here.

Indeed, anyone who has been in contact with the crystal for extended periods of time - sleeping on it or getting dealt a swipe from one of the crystalized monsters, for example - will find that tiny, quartz-like growths have started to sprout on their skin as well. Once the virus has taken root, it will spread rapidly until it has swallowed you whole. Indeed, the unpleasant symptoms will reveal themselves within twenty-four hours of the initial exposure: in addition to clusters of crystalline growths pocking the affected areas, the inflicted will begin to experience intense stabbing pains all over as the crystal begins to grow - both inside and out.

The transformation is slow and arduous and painful, and vocalization tends to be one of the first things to go once the crystals sprout in the mouth and throat. Within the span of about three days since the initial exposure, the transformation will have sheathed most of the physical body in crystal entirely, sealing the victim in a humanoid cast of glasslike green.

It has not been confirmed if the inflicted are sentient and aware of their state of being once they are completely consumed. Whatever their intentions, those are easily overridden by the virus's innate desire to spread to as many organisms as possible.

As this is an event with a high risk of death, the Storyteller will impose death penalties for one week only. Additionally, deaths succumbed during the event count towards the character's total. There is no known cure to the virus, but that doesn't mean characters can't or shouldn't try!

Event Timeline

[ ♆ ] October 20th: Spelunking begins. Points of interest will be provided.
[ ♆ ] October 22nd: The Quartzalcoatl make their presence known.
[ ♆ ] October 24th: The final sigils are broken, and the Storyteller will return all uninfected to the Islets.
[ ♆ ] October 26th: All deceased will be returned at midday, suffering from a reduced death penalty.

Event Specifics

[ ♆ ] If your character perishes in this event, please let us know!
[ ♆ ] For those who opted out, please see the top-level below!
[ ♆ ] Item claims can be found on the OOC plotting post here!

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's not like they just got here. Chara's been standing at the edge of this... scene, for minutes now. Not worth noticing, by two people so wrapped up in each other. Face it, you'll never beat my death count, says one. Might as well stop trying.

Yeah, says the other. You can keep that title. I'm over it.

They shouldn't be here. Watching a moment such as this- private and personal. Lup is devastated, as much as Taako attempts to put on a brave face. They both know what's coming. They're both terrified.

She's going to have to kill him, eventually. And until she does, he's going to suffer. And she's going to sit right there, watching him suffer. Together until the end.

And for the first time since it occurred, they finally feel like they understand Frisk's actions, somewhat. Why they decided to fling themself over the edge of a cliff, instead ofhaving to bear the knowledge of forcing someone who loves them to kill them. Again.

This.

They have no idea what to say, but Chara- knows what they want, right now. Selfishly, they know what they want. And they step forward, clear their throat. Make their tiny, blood-coated presence known.

Hello, you two.

She feels Taako carefully let go of some of his strain and manages to breathe a little more easily herself. He's comforted, for now, to whatever degree is even possible at this point. She doesn't really need to ask for his trust for the sake of her own reassurance. It's to remind him, now more than ever, that he has someone to rely on, that it's not just him, never has been just him against the world, that he has someone who'll do whatever it takes for him.

It's the most horrible kind of trust he's ever placed in her. And when he nods against her wordlessly and squeezes her hand like every time they've ever been scared and hopeless, she knows she won't let him down.

Just as she'd let herself relax by inches along with him, so his sudden fit wracks her too, painful heaving spasms that feel like they're tearing out her heart. Drops of blood land on her shirt between a nauseating wheezing and grinding sound before he squirms to the side and she tries helplessly to support him while giving him space to, what, to get comfortable? This is ludicrous. This is hell.

How much longer can she watch this, how much longer can she do this to him? But none of her spells that work here would be-- Even that has been taken from them by this fucking place, she can't even-- it can't even be kind. She forces down a sob in solidarity, can't risk jostling him when he's fighting so hard to be still and, god, she's not ready to let go of him and get to her feet and pick up the umbrella and--

It does feel like an intrusion, then, the sound of someone approaching. Her head snaps up in alarm and she blinks furiously to clear her vision, the small shape in the dark solidifying into... just a kid. A new wave of concern feels like ripping the ground out from under her but she rubs a thumb across Taako's hand reassuringly, she's got this, don't even worry about it. "Kidwun, don't-- you've got to stay back, it's not safe," she calls out though it's almost hushed, like you would at someone's bedside, voice thick but firm. Closer now, she can see dark stains on them and her ears dart back in fear - not of them but for them - at the thought that it doesn't look much like dirt at all. "What happened?"

For once, Taako doesn't even feel any embarrassment at being snuck up on; he's got a pretty good excuse this time. He's silently grateful to Lup for identifying the newcomer aloud, letting him rein in his alarm before it even really gets under way. He doesn't think craning around to pinpoint the source of the sound would do any part of his current situation any favours, but he still absolutely would have otherwise. Even knowing who it is, it still feels wrong not to acknowledge them somehow, a lingering, nagging, but unspecified wrong. A door left open, an uncovered night-time window. The other one, the one he can't really categorise beyond 'worrisome' and possibly 'similar.' Of course Lup wants to warn them away when she wouldn't even stay back herself.

Still slowly and quite literally painstakingly, he moves, turns to look at Kidwun, hearing Lup's uptick of concern for them. His stomach drops sickly at the thought of seeing them studded with lambent gangrene, but that would make Lup's question a pretty dumb, one, wouldn't it. There's no sign of that hallmark horseshit glow, but he doesn't even need darkvision to guess at what they are actually covered in, and his guess is it's not much better. Plenty of ways it could have gone down, but none of them are great, for the kid or for anybody. There's another fish-flop of dread and-- grief? in his gut at comparing the options. Having been positively convinced, from the outset, that the kid would stab him in a heartbeat without hesitation doesn't mean he dislikes them. He probably understands that quality better than most adults they've encountered, or would if he were willing to.

He watches them, and it probably looks more bleary, more dull, than piercing, with his wet eyes and bloody mouth. Like something exhausted and dying and still aware, because that's what he is. He is, unfortunately, not an idiot, and is out of energy for pretending to be one just for the sake of being underestimated by a child. He mirrors their throat clearing, though it's more of a necessity in his case, and his eyes squint and unfocus at the pain of it. It does let his voice carry a bit more than his previous hoarse whispering, though. Lup needs to know, if it hasn't occurred to her already, and if the fact that they're alone is related to the blood. "Where's your twin?"

What happened, she asks. Where's your twin, he asks, in turn.

Like either question needs an answer. Like their physical response to Taako's enquiry- an immediate, full-body flinch, a stifled laugh between their teeth, the wide smile, isn't enough. No. The only thing that would suffice was a verbal confirmation of those fears- admission that the absolute worst has past.

Chara doesn't make it gentle for anyone involved.

"They killed themself." It's probably for the best, that they don't feel particularly verbose, right now. Imagine the looks on their faces, if Chara told them precisely what had happened to bring their Partner to that moment? The yelling. The crystals jutting out of their broken skin. A mad chase ending in a free fall-- and a scream.

Not Frisk's scream. Not Tim's, either.

Despite the warnings, they step forward- eyes on Taako, however they wish to take it. Morbid fascination. A total lack of care. Desensitization. Talking really isn't going to get them anywhere; there are words. There are goals. Tasks. Things they can actually do...now that they're unhindered.

"I'd like to speak to Taako alone for a moment." A pause, and an unhurried addition. Simply tacked on from mere habit. "Please."

It's kinda funny, she'd thought for sure there was no more horror and heartbreak left for anything outside of this, her brother hurting in her arms. Turns out there's still something left to tear through her in sympathy, instant at their flinch, devastating at their words. It's probably less surprising than it should be, there's a part of her that knows Taako might have done the same eventually, taken that last escape route. But they're just, just kids, no matter how little of a fuck the world tends to give about that. Just a kid who loves sweet things and puns and flowers. How much of this pain did they go through, before making that choice? And how much of it did their sibling see?

Just a kid who is alone now. They continue to approach, and it scares her, really, properly. The choked laugh, the brutality of their words, the hollowness in their eyes. Because it looks familiar. Because she knows what it's like to have your heart taken from you, and it's slipping out of her grasp again, even now. They're looking at Taako with an intent that... it's not a conscious thought, yet, what's going down here, but that doesn't mean she can't feel a tar pit of dread pooling in her guts anyway. There had been a moment, when they first spooked Taako in the store, where she'd had the urge to issue just a friendly sort of warning, more of an understanding really, from twin to twin, about the sort of consequences that would befall anyone who'd try to mess with her sibling. Seeing herself in them in some ways might have made them likable, but it goes the other way too, the violent, unpredictable way.

That instinct's back, now. So Lup does what she always does, she squares her shoulders, squeezes Taako's hand for reassurance that goes both ways, and puts up a fight. "I'm not leaving. Whatever you wanna say, you better say it to both of us."

Taako should probably look a little more worried about their approach, especially with that terse confirmation that their twin is out of their reach. Hey, at least they remember them. And it's true, if he weren't already radiating constant distress in his miserably pinned ears and tightness around his eyes, he would be broadcasting some very real trepidation. Just, not really as much as one would expect, considering.

For one thing...what point would there even be? What's the worst they could do, he doesn't point out. For her sake, he doesn't even laugh at it, bitter amusement warring with the ache of Lup's pointless defense. "That train left the station awhile ago," he says, as delicate as his broken voice will allow. Not like he expects Lup to have forgotten; either way, kid's already missed their chance for first crack at Taako. "Kinda want to hear what they have to say." And you probably don't, is the unspoken implication. He deliberately does not look at her to see what reaction that gets, but perhaps less than consciously braces for it anyway.

For another...he thinks he knows what's coming: an offer, heartbreaking in its unchildlike coldness and pragmatism, but probably not cruel. And whether they're trying to spare Lup or just don't want her inevitable protest inconveniently in the mix, they're both technically on the same page there. Which is, probably, meaningless, but a little chilling nonetheless. "Please, Lup."

They can't blame her for her defensiveness in the face of a potential threat. Wouldn't blame her even if there was no threat behind their words- it is horrendously, blindingly painful, looking at the two of them.

Blink, and they aren't even Taako and Lup, anymore. Blink, and they could just as easily be looking at themself, fiercely protesting a threat to one of two children-- who'd both left them in their own ways, eventually. Finally.

"If you would do me the honor of having your trust this once, I would appreciate it." Even if, inevitably, their intentions were to break it completely. "However, I understand if that is something you are not willing to give."

The feeling of being out of step is one she knows and fears deeply. Something is passing between him and the child, something that she is perhaps stubbornly refusing to understand. Taako doesn't want to be defended. It's too late, is what he's saying, and she trembles with another harshly swallowed sob. It's like things are rapidly spiraling out of her grasp; her control, her power to affect what's happening, her brother? Everything. She looks between the two of them, incredulous, hurt, but she's rapidly losing the ability to ignore what her dread is screaming at her, too.

"Trust?" she gasps with a disbelieving, almost panicked laugh, though it lacks any malice. "It's not--" Not about trust, not about them, that's not what she's trying so miserably to stave off. She looks back down to Taako, who's still not meeting her eyes. And that's when the last bit of denial crumbles and she knows she's only got the one chance to, to be a part of what's happening.

Her other hand digs deeper into his hair, opening and closing slowly, a childish, comforting, pleading motion. Her voice is a whisper, and it's broken too, though with fear rather than crystal. "You know I've got to be with you, whatever happens. I can't be anywhere else. Don't ask me to leave, Taako?" Because if he asks, she will. But it wouldn't be the kinder option, not for her.

If anyone can be trusted to be sure of something, or at least able to handle the consequences regardless, it's Lup. He won't do her the disfavour of questioning her decision, not the least of which because it's energy he can ill afford at this point. What a stupid argument that would be, even for them. There's just nothing he hates so much as inevitability. It goes against everything he is, really. Can't have third options if you don't have any options at all. Middle of the road doesn't matter if it's a forced march. He sighs, and it's as desolate and ragged as wind through a broken window, still choked with glass.

"Alright, Lup. I trust you." He didn't say it earlier, but it's gotta be said for real this time. And he means it, it's not just laziness or apathy or just, the overall extreme readiness he has to no longer be a part of this absolutely fucked up experience, but it's a kind of warning, too. Wouldn't it be great if this were one of those times where a less practical, less gruesome solution were actually going to cut it? It isn't, though, and he knows she understands that, and he's almost entirely sure she can weather it, and not interfere. He should be managing this better, mitigating it somehow, changing something, but somehow it seems too fast, and he's too sick to grapple with it.

He looks back to the kid, solemn rather than fearful. There, we outvoted her, he doesn't say. Now we're all on the same page. He appreciates the circumspection with which they've been dealing with Lup; particularly impressive, considering their own circumstances, he's really gonna owe 'em one after this. Or maybe they're just like this all the time, that sure would be a thing. He manages the barest shrug, still those careful, pained movements, Hey, I tried. "Guess you get an audience after all."

It's not something she'd ever given them. That's fair. And in the end, it's not really their choice, either. Taako elects to allow her this much, and it's with grim finality that Chara draws their knife- blade almost too clean, in comparison to the rest of them.

At least there's something in this place they can take care of.

"If that's what you want." They don't look at Lup. Don't want to see her expression, now- another adult looking at them like they've just realized what Chara really is. Demon. Evil. That's their fault, isn't it? A normal child wouldn't be standing here, blade drawn at the sight of a terminally ill man. "There were others that had progressed further than you. I hope you understand why it's best to end this now."

Taako? Taako has to, surely. There's nothing about him that doesn't speak of pain.

Lup?

Lup wouldn't have forgiven them anyway.

Wouldn't it be nice if she got to feel relief at Taako's answer. If there was any room for relief left in this whole fucked up ordeal, any chance to breathe through the suffocating fear and misery. But he says it out loud this time, that he trusts her, and she knows why instantly. He trusts her to bear this, to stand down and let him go, to not make it worse than it has to be. To watch him die and then find some way to go on until he's back. They've always pushed each other to impossible feats, to be more powerful, cleverer, braver. But right now, clinging to his ruined, trembling frame, seeing the pain in his dull eyes, and already knowing the desolation that's waiting for her, it seems damn close to the thing that's gonna break her.

Doesn't matter, though. What matters is that he's not gonna see her break. She's certain of that much. Even as the kid draws their knife and she suddenly feels like she's freezing, ears pressed into her hair with unbearable tension as she realizes how sick this all is. A child with a knife is ready to do what she can't, because none of her spells can help her brother now. She remembers the mast on the boat and flinches, pulls Taako closer, buries her face in his hair for just a moment. She wants to scream and fight, to rail against whatever unseen force is doing this to them, doesn't understand why all her powers aren't enough to save her twin. Wants to refuse to lay down and just, just accept this, that's not how she works, that's not how any of this works. What's the point of every single horrible trial they've gone through, if this is still what happens? Life's never been fair, so they've always cheated. She doesn't know what to do when she can't. Because every second longer that she refuses, crystals are crawling up his throat and it's torture. More than anything, she wants his pain to stop.

So it's time to prove his trust right.

"Hey, Taako? Look at me, okay?" Don't worry about the blade now. Her eyes are brimming with tears again but her voice is as steady as it gets, warm and sure. "You're gonna be fine and I'll see you soon. Nothing's gonna keep us apart for long, right? Let's make soup." She presses a kiss to his forehead, and doesn't let go of his hand for anything.

There it is. Lup was always the one who could make a speech, say all the right things to instill courage or compassion or whatever in a listener. Not like he's never had to try his hand at it, he can be a pithy bastard when he puts his mind to it, but this was always more her thing. Lup can always pick herself up and from there find the leverage to move the world.

Or just comfort her dying brother. Who doesn't even really need that much comforting anymore, so maybe this is a waste, maybe she should save that effort for herself, but then maybe it's for her sake, too, anyway. He appreciates the reminder of their little beachside pact, for sure. Fuck letting anything slow them down, they're the definition of unstoppable, they got this. What's one more death? Boring, honestly. Trite, overdone. Unnecessary. He already regrets having made such a stink about it.

It just seems too fast, is all, a part of him still protests, quiet and numb. He's failing, he's failed, he didn't find another answer because he was busy dying slowly while everything else was fast. Some kid is gonna do the heavy lifting instead, and that's fuckin-- he wishes he knew how to-- they deserve some kind of recognition he just doesn't have time or courage for. Maneuvering Lup through these emotional, irrational pits, she'll be thankful later but he'll be dead. And they'll have done that too. He can't make eye contact with that.

So he doesn't, looks to Lup just as he's told, fails but it's fine, he's got a really good excuse this time. She's right, this won't be forever, they just gotta get there. He wants to laugh at the absurdity of being told he's gonna be fine, but he can only nod and smile, close-mouthed for all their sakes. "I know," he says, and as painfully quiet as his voice is there's still room for a lot of faith, not in this island's shitty death mechanics but in her. He still feels like he's missing a stairstep in slow motion, he wishes desperately he had more to offer here than these inadequate words. But hey, even Taako has to shut up eventually, and at least it's not goodbye, even if he is closing his eyes like a child about to get a shot. Watching the eyes go empty has always been the worst part. "Love you, let's make soup."

They might not be looking at her, but that doesn't mean they don't see her flinch in their periphery- flinch away from them, from what she knows they're capable of. And somewhere, surely, that has to hurt. It should hurt, knowing that they've broken any chance of sitting by fireplaces again, of talking about siblings, of trading goods.

But it doesn't.

What does is their quiet voices. Promises that things are going to be okay- they won't be apart for long. Let's make soup, says Lup, and Chara can hear the tears in her voice as she accepts she's done everything for him that she possibly can.

Let's make soup, Taako agrees. Their hands shake. It hurts.

But only for a moment.

It's not their place, to wish that Lup had closed her eyes too. At least she knows now, that it was fast. That Chara doesn't hesitate after taking a few steps forward, that their blade doesn't falter on its path downward.

They use both hands, and the blade makes a cracking noise on impact-- or rather

Taako's skull, makes a cracking noise on impact. The blade goes through, clean or unclean, they're not sure and they'll never really know, when staring at their shirt gives no real clues to it. It's impossible to tell whose blood is on them at this point, far too many to count.

They counted anyway.

It's good, that she kept her eyes open. Because she knows as soon as they do that Taako's body goes limp instantly, that the only thing keeping his body upright is the wall, her hold, and Chara's grip on the hilt of their knife, the rest of it buried into his head like some sort of cheap magic trick. Like they'll pull it back any moment to reveal collapsed plastic, folded into itself. Instead, there's silence; a child that continues to fail to look at her, even as they break that quiet with a soft forewarning.

"You don't need to see this part."

They need to take the knife back now, Lup.

It's over.

This time, Lup doesn't flinch. The last thing she can do for Taako, the only thing, is to keep still as the knife comes down, to hold him tight as his body jumps like he's been startled by that horrible noise, and then lets go of all his agonized tension. She's, she's glad, that he did look at her, and that she got to hear his faith and love one more time. That he got to close his eyes himself, and that he's done hurting, and--

She feels like she must be screaming. Wailing, burning, consuming and crushing this entire subterranean fucking hell with the unrestrained force of her grief and fury-- Surely it's deafening, devastating. But all of that, her cries, her sobs and her red-hot despair, it's all in her head. Nothing makes it past her lips or even past the slight tremble of her hands. Nothing but the tears falling from her wide open eyes.

Taako's gone. Her heart is gone, and so is she.

She hears the child, suddenly much closer, but an indescribable distance away. Blood on them, on her, on the body between them. She doesn't look at them, either. She's staring at his empty face, like she might still somehow see something of her brother there. It doesn't look peaceful. It doesn't look like he's sleeping. She knows every expression he's ever worn, better than any spell or recipe or memory, better than her own face, and it's none of those.

She's alone.

And it's not like seeing the next part would make a difference. Nothing's gonna make any sort of difference for a while here. But she holds his body tight anyway, cradles his head firmly, and nods. For once in her life Lup does as she's told and she closes her eyes. There's no point in doing anything else, now.

They don't really know who it benefits more, in the end. They pull the knife out and it takes a while- much more difficult to take something back once it's been sunk in. They do their best to make it a few, smooth motions, and by the time they're wiping the blade clean on their sweater, Taako looks...

He looks dead. A corpse, which would have been startling, had they not killed multiple others in the hours before locating the elves. Finally letting their eyes rest on Lup and-- there's nothing they can do, there. Nothing to be said that would make this better, nothing about their presence that is of any benefit to her.

So they try, whilst she keeps her eyes closed, to walk away. Try to leave, so at the least, she no longer has to deal with the unwanted presence of her brother's murderer. It's the least they can do for her.

They can't do the same for themself.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

October Event: Crystal Clear

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cw: suicide

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1/2 CW: graphic death, gore

CW GRAPHIC DEATH, GORE, VIOLENCE

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