lifeaftr | January Event: Fade to Black

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January Event: Fade to Black

JANUARY EVENT: FADE TO BLACK

Who: Anyone and everyone!
What: Your true self comes to roost
When: January 21st - 23rd; January 25th - 28th
Where: All over!
Warnings: Dark subjects such as violence and self-destruction are likely to come to the forefront - please mark your content accordingly!

Down in that Darkness

This log is primarily for the Shadow and Light portions of the event, for ease and convenience. Your Shadow can be either the Persona-inspired sort - a "brutal, bitterly honest recreation of a character's worst flaws, darkest fears, and deepest secrets" - or the edgier, more laughable variant. The Lights, on the other hand, will do their utmost to convince their real selves of their best qualities, no matter how little they want to hear them.

Remember that the Shadows will be present from January 21st to January 23rd, and the Lights will be present from January 25th to January 28th.

On January 25th, we will post a separate log for Rejection Rooms!

Some useful links, for reference:

[ ♆ ] OOC Event Post
[ ♆ ] Rejection Room Sign-Ups; remember to note your interest in these as soon as possible!
[ ♆ ] Deaths Page; death penalties have been reduced for the duration of this event, but still do let us know if your character dies regardless!

Event Timeline

[ ♆ ] January 20th: The monthly Storytelling occurs.
[ ♆ ] January 21st: Shadows of both initial variants appear.
[ ♆ ] January 23rd: Shadows of both initial variants disappear.
[ ♆ ] January 25th Lights and Rejection Rooms appear.
[ ♆ ] January 28th: Lights and Rejection Rooms dissipate. Those still trapped in their Rejection Rooms by the event's end will suffer a character death.

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

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[ It sure has been busy around here. Not just dealing with their own fears, but other people's; they're feeling a bit battered, and so they're using this time, when things have apparently become more peaceful, to rest.

But someone calling for help gets their attention immediately, of course. It's a voice they don't quite recognise, but it's still familiar enough that they drop what they were previously doing to attend to it.

They're momentarily startled by the appearance of..whoever this is. They recognise the Nightmare King, yes, but..

When did he get so small??

Well, never mind. Apparently he needs help, so they'll give it. They look around, and then tilt their head inquisitively.

What's wrong? ]

[Much like how the Nightmare King pulled on the Knight's cloak when they met in October, the child does the same. As if holding onto something is grounding for him.

And it is. If you can touch it, it was real. A hand to hold and something warm.

The sun. Didn't he miss the sun?]

It's Grimm. He...he won't listen to me! It's not something I can and won't command him to do, but he...

[It is a far, far call from the Nightmare King that the Knight knows. His voice is not a broken mess, his mind on the subject on hand. More importantly he has not attempted to set the Knight on fire.

For a monstrous God of Nightmares...he is panicking. Something is very, very wrong.]

Can you come with me? I think he'll listen better if you're with me, Knight. It's...not a good topic, but he needs to hear it.

[ God of Nightmares, Terror of Sleep - it doesn't matter. None of that matters.

Something is wrong, something must be fixed, and that is all. He needs help. So they give the Nightmare King's hand a reassuring little squeeze and a firm nod, with no hesitation.

They'll follow him. ]

[They do not have to go far, actually. The God of Nightmares takes one step forward only to be blocked by a puff of smoke as Grimm appears.

The Troupe Master sighs as he sees who the child had gone to fetch when their conversation took a turn for the worst. That honestly makes it worse.

When he speaks he sounds tired, like he has not slept in a long time.]

God of Nightmares. You chose Knight to listen to our conversation? After all that has happened to them?

[The Nightmare King takes a deep breath and squeezes the Knight's hand back.]

I know she hurt them. But you are not listening to me and you listen to them. I just want you to listen, my Troupe Master.

[ Even after all this time, that teleportation still startles them. Another little squeeze of the Nightmare King's hand, on reflex.

But it's something else that shocks them more than his arrival, when the Troupe Master speaks.

Grimm sounds so tired. It's not something they hear often, or at all, so their concern is immediate.

They look up at him, and then at the child who stands beside them, hand in hand, and then back.

They reach out, after a moment.

It's not quite asking for his hand, but it is a question, all the same. A desire to know and understand someone else's pain, as they have so many times before. ]

[This time, Grimm does not take their hand. It is not wrong that they want to understand. What makes them kind is that they keep reaching out despite everything, despite their scared heart.

But this...if Grimm could not take the nightmares that haunted the Vessel, then this was a comfort they could not give. And the Nightmare King was not being clear.]

Knight...he speaks of the Radiance. This conversation is not one for you, as she has placed enough burdens and deaths upon your shoulders.

[She has done enough and Grimm refused to be just another God who dumped his problems upon the shoulders of children. This was his--]

But she hurt you too. That's why I thought you two could talk about it. What happened to the realms.

[The Nightmare King fidgets and then shakes his head.]

And...what she did to you, Nightmare King.

[ The Radiance.

It's true that even the name, the thought of her, still scares them more than anything else. Even chained for thousands of years, she killed them over and over, pierced them with her hatred and her light.

(They had matched her rage with theirs. For dead siblings and a world in pain, for someone else's loss.

Harsh light had created an equally harsh shadow.)

Maybe they would be caught up in that, but they're paying attention.

"And...what she did to you, Nightmare King."

It's not the Troupe's song, but something else. The expanse of dream in past was split, one realm now must stay apart...

A god sleeping in a patchwork heart, a lingering flame kept alive in a lonely place. (A child wakes suddenly, going from nightmare to nightmare; presses hands against a stifling mask, confused and fearful of what they have become at another's hand.)

They shake their head and keep their hand outstretched. True, it is a burden.

But as always, it's something they're willing to take. And they can't forget the Lady's words, the murmur and hint of a distant link, a connection.

They are not their father. They cannot, and would not, deny it. ]

[Even now they are willing to take a burden that is older then they are, that is surpassed only by the age of the Abyss itself.]

What you are asking to take is a memory, my dear Knight. One that is burned into my mind even if it truly is not my own. It is not yours to take.

[As with everything across countless reincarnations, Grimm could remember that day with perfect clarity. When the Radiance no longer looked at the Nightmare King (at him) as a sibling but simply something to be cast away into darkness.

(What is often forgotten of God is their affairs and souls. That they too can be damaged beyond repair.)

He kneels to look at them both.]

My wonderful God of Nightmares....you know why going back to her is an impossible thing. She...hurt you beyond repair.

She tore you apart.

[A simple reply. The Knight had to have seen the stitches, a Heart stitched back together so it would not die. Arms curled around a flame in desperate hope so it would not be lost.

(The Nightmare King died with his vessel so they would not die alone, because he knew better then anyone the nightmare and terror that came with dying alone.)

And they know the strength of the Radiance, even lessened by years upon years trapped in the Hollow Knight. At her prime...she was beautiful. A blinding light that birthed shadows. A harsh light that cast them down.

She was both and it was beautiful.

Grimm's light side smiles in an attempt to encourage Grimm, reaching out to touch his shoulder. It will be okay. It will be okay.]

The Heart...the Nightmare Realm. It didn't look like that before, remember? No stitches, no patchwork. The floor was a beautiful blue and the Heart gave shelter to her Light. You both loved each other as siblings, not just as Gods. Why are you so scared of wanting that back?

[He shakes his head again, casting his gaze to the ground.]

Because of what she has wrought upon the land of Hallownest. She tore it and me apart. I cannot...

[ They don't...quite understand the conversation, not at first. To them, the Radiance has always been painful, a blazing, burning enemy.

What more needs to be said?

But--

Something clicks into place. They do understand, don't they? Wanting something back, even if it hurts. Wanting something that no longer exists, even after all this time.

The Hollow Knight staggers and screams and reminds them of a much, much smaller figure, so long ago.

They were never there. The gap between them is an age, a century, time lost forever. The Hollow Knight kills them over and over before they find the strength to surpass them.

The broken vessel that seethes with infection, bubbles with painful light. Their only method of connection the clash of blades, the release of death, the mute and soft acceptance of a dream. They, too, destroy them, over and over.

They were never there. They don't know them. They have no memory of ever seeing them. They lived and died in the light, away from the sea of their birth, and never returned.

They can only imagine what it might have been like beside them, a time where they could have been happy together.

The dream is impossible, intangible. They cannot go back in time. That power, if it truly does exist, is something they cannot have. What they wish for cannot be seized - the desire to make things as they were, to make things right.

It's a regret, like anything else. A god's regret, but a regret all the same.

And isn't that what they were made to take?

Still, they hold out their hand. Unwavering in their conviction. ]

[Grimm reaches out to take the Knight's hand, only to gently push it back.]

It is not for you to take.

[The Radiance and the Nightmare King. Two Gods who cared little except for a very limited amount of things. The Knight was not one of those things.

So haven't they done enough? The burdens of Gods were never meant for children. The Knight was stronger then anything in both body and soul. They endured under so many decisions made for them rather then their own choice, having that taken away from them the second they were born.

(White light takes away form, an unknowable being took away their life when they did not meet his standards.)

The Knight could handle this burden. They could take it upon their shoulders. Consume it like the souls of regret that were dragged behind them like a tram.

But they won't, because it is not for them to take. It is Grimm's alone, shadow of a shadow.

A spark of red light lights darkest dreams.

The reversal of time is impossible. Taking back what was...was impossible.

That was the whole point of the Troupe. The collection of the ash that was his relationship of the Radiance was not something he could collect.

Meanwhile the tiny God of Nightmares fidgets again. Sorrow is not an expression the God wears well. It...is not okay, is it?]

Please Grimm...just listen. She--

Enough.

[He is not one to snap at others but...Grimm is tired. This was less digging into old wounds and more making new ones. And he is so tired.]

Asking the Knight to help with this is a cruelty and you know it. The Radiance tore them apart and tore me apart. She ripped the Nightmare Heart out of my chest and nearly destroyed it. It was all I could do to keep it alive. Cast into the darkness to be forgotten, all because she wished to rule alone.

[His heart is beating painfully, almost close to as it was during the Ritual. Failing. Dying. A phantom memory of that day.

That day when the Ritual truly took place. The death of the Nightmare King and the birth of his first vessel.

He bends in on himself, pressing a hand to his chest.]

I loved her once, of my own free will. My beautiful and shining sibling, my dearest Radiance. But she dragged me down into hell and tore it all apart. I will never forgive her for what she has done. Never.

[Their bound, once solid and filled with love, is long since gone. The rage and pain of the Nightmare King on that day gave bugkind one final nightmare.

"I loved you. So why...why did you hurt me so?"]

Edited 2019-01-21 19:40 (UTC)

[ They watch, quiet as always (quiet as they were made to be), this painful conversation between half and whole.

They understand it - they can't forgive the Radiance themselves. If there was a merciful side, something welcoming and less painful, it's not for them.

But Grimm's connection to her is more painful, more personal. They were close once, long ago. Something that will never come again. It's only natural to miss what once was, what used to be, what could have been.

(They are, in themselves, a duality; the child erased by the Pale King's mask, the wanderer without a place to belong. It had been a long, long time before they were able to reconcile, to acknowledge each other's existence without pain.)

What can they say to that? What is there to say? So they watch, and wait, not knowing what they should do.

(Wondering if what upsets Grimm the most is his capacity to forgive her, despite everything she has done.)

Their hand is pushed away, so they don't ask for his hand again. But since he's kneeling, they reach up to touch the hand over his chest.

It beats hard enough to hurt. They can hear it. They remember the sound. ]

[The day when it all came crashing down was one of Grimm's and the Nightmare King's own personal nightmares. There were so many things that had gone wrong that day and still could have been worse. A miracle could have happened and the Nightmare King won a throne he could not fill. Hallownest could have suffered deeply from the sibling's battle, could have been wiped off the face of the lands long before it was named.

He was not so blind in his anger and hurt to not see he too was responsible. The Nightmare King could have fled. Retreated into the flames of his own realm and closed it off from her. He could have done something.

What ifs are a terrible cycle. Having endless lives did not make it any easier to not become trapped in them.

Grimm's heartbeat is erratic and he cannot breathe that well. He feels as if he is on the edge of a cliff, debating if it must be that he falls.

Why did you hurt me?

(The tiny Nightmare King releases the Knight's hand.)

Simply to rule? Simply to break the cycle, only to watch it rot away in your hands?

(He has forgotten, hasn't he? Forgiveness does not mean a fixed connection, all hurt forgotten.)

Grimm's light side reaches out to place a hand on each side of his real counterpart's face, gently tilting his head up again. The Knight knew the savage nature of the God of Nightmare in battle. He did not care for them and tore them apart with his bare hands and flames. And here he is not letting Grimm look away now but it is not a grip that the Troupe Master could not escape.

A choice, as always. But the time for a previous choice has long since passed. As he did when the Knight finally emerged victorious over the Nightmare King, the child's body was slowly breaking apart.]

You have forgotten. A blinding light and a brilliant light are the same. Forgiveness is not. You love so deeply, my dear vessel. All of you love so, so deeply.

[The Grimm Troupe could and has been everything. What may be noted about the poem is that it does not say exactly what the Troupe was. And so each incarnation of Grimm made it their own. A carnival, a wagon where stories are told, grounds for battle. The Ritual was the only common point shared with each incarnation.

Each of them poured their love into it, into those they offered a hand to, into their child as they grew and their partner of their dance. Loved and were loved even as they left a trail of ash from dying lands behind them. Something old, something new.

Love and desire was what propelled Grimm forward. Dance and die and live forever.

But they all still possessed a hole in their heart where the Radiance once was. They felt keenly the hurt and pain of the Nightmare King. He who cared little that had what he could care for tear out his heart.

(It hurts. It hurts, it hurts.)]

Good. Bad. I cannot take it from you. I do not want to ruin what you are. But you have forgotten. Troupe Master Grimm...remember dreams and nightmares. Remember the reflection of you and her and the love you once possessed.

[Remember before it is forgotten and before it is too late.]

[ In the end, it's no surprise that the Nightmare King chose them for the conversation. Both of them strive and struggle for a time that can no longer exist, a guilt that holds them back.

I could have saved them, mourns the child in the sealed grave, lost among the dead.

I could have done something else, whispers the god among his own ashes, clutching the remains of his broken heart.

They forgave themselves for their own darkness, their own distorted form. Their fear of what they could have been given shape.

Grimm doesn't talk to them about the burdens he alone carries, presumably out of respect for them. It's a gesture born of kindness, but he sounds tired now; he is in pain.

He was someone else's shadow, once, before that connection was broken forever. It's not so bad, they think, to acknowledge that love once existed there.

(Their Shadow leans down, striking reflection of their sibling and their father all at once, and they acknowledge at last with a soft, painful bitterness that they, too, had once possessed the capacity to love him.

Not now, not ever again. But before those scars were formed, they were just a child made by the Pale King's hand, and they too would have done much to please him.

Such is the way of children and the way of their kindness.)

They just watch. Even if they could speak, it would feel like an intrusion; the least they can do is bear witness, whatever the outcome is. ]

[It is impossible for light to exist without shadows and vice versa. The Radiance's blinding light had birthed the shadows of nightmares. The cycle they governed was that of the nature of sleep, to dream is to risk nightmares and to have nightmares means dreams are all the more sweeter. He did not mind it until the day it broke.

It was not a betrayal of roles or Gods that hurt. It was the betrayal of siblings, of someone deeply loved. The Nightmare King saw the madness of isolation consume the Radiance and nearly consumed himself in his anger until the idea of a vessel came to him.

And...it would have not been difficult to leave and see the Radiance in person. Her prison in the Hollow Knight's mind was the Goddess of Dream's own nightmare, screaming and pounding against the walls of a child's mind. He could have gone but didn't. Eons passed but that anger and hurt didn't.

These burdens of his own nightmares were his alone. What remains deep within the flames of the Heart of Grimm was not for a child to bare. It would consume them in the end and he did not wish to be a God who simply dumped his problems on others. He asked for their help with the Ritual. That alone was enough.

(Two damaged hearts that had room for everything but themselves.)

The Nightmare King lets go of Grimm's face to pull him into an embrace as he fades. It is a little amusing due to the height difference even if Grimm is kneeling but there is a desperation to it.]

Shadows once dreamed of endless light.
Flames and blades danced all night.
What is forgotten deep in the soul.
Must be remembered before all is gone.

[The light soon crumbles away with those words drifting on the wind in its wake. A change in the poem, in the notes of an endless song simply changed.

But Grimm's heartbeat is still erratic, still dying. He digs a hand into the ground so he can focus.

(Something. Something is calling him.)]

....can you please do me a favor, my friend?

[ The Nightmare King crumbles and fades away, leaving only those changed words, but Grimm's heartbeat still stutters like something in pain.

(Something is wrong. Something is wrong.)

He's asking something of them. They step close, attentive and worried.

(In truth, Grimm could ask them to do anything, and they would.) ]

[It is not the Ritual that is calling. Grimm is not sure if this truly is an end. Debating while on the edge of a cliff is often worse then the actual jump. He has to. That much Grimm knows.

But he has to do this too.

One hand reaches deep within the folds of his cloak to grasp something before pulling the Knight closer and pressing what he brought out into their hand.

The Troupe Master cannot breathe. The crumbling of the Nightmare King felt like something broke within him again. And the shore is calling him. Water to douse flame.

It is what it is. At the very least--]

Look after them, my dear friend.

[And then, without ceremony or flair...Grimm vanishes into thin air.

What the Knight holds in their hand, what Grimm left behind, is the Grimmchild charm.]

[ It happens too quickly for them to really protest. And once again, even if they could find the words, even if there was anything to say, there's nothing they can really do about it.

He leaves them with a charm in hand and little else to suggest that anything had happened, or that he was there at all. Even before they look at it, they understand what it is he's given them, because there's only one thing that he would.

They stare blankly at it for a long moment in reflection, in silent acceptance. ]

[ Their hand clenches tightly around the charm in a swift motion, almost snapping shut, hard enough for its edges to bite into their palm. It goes into their cloak, for a later time.

The only sound they'll ever make, will likely never make again, isn't something that matches the cry their sibling once made; that is the Hollow Knight's voice, a scream to express pain, and it's not for them. It's not the shriek of voices unheard; they no longer have the power of those sleeping voices within them to do that.

It's a frustrated, upset noise, somewhere halfway between a snarl and a roar. If anyone was around to hear it, it would grate unpleasantly; it's far lower than a sound any living creature should make.

As it is, it stirs a few nearby wildlife into sudden flight, and the Knight makes no indication that they cried out at all.

They don't know what they'll do yet. But they trust it isn't forever. What else can they do? ]

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January Event: Fade to Black

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