lifeaftr | January Event: Fade to Black

Entry tags:

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 )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[They can barely think through the fuzz of pain-static buzzing in their skull like a nest of live wasps. They can hear its words like rocks falling over the dust, like someone gargling gravel and spitting out lead, but they cannot parse the specifics. There's only the sting of the blade against their cheek, and then the bright blot of Ren, bobbing closer.]

[And then back.]

[Their sprite hums softly. It manages a guttering screen, pink and faded - ]

go

No.

[If there's one thing she can do, it's stay by their side. She can wait here, think of something, anything, to help. Maybe her words will reach them, as unlikely as that is. Maybe they'll be able to stand again. She can help them hobble into the woods and cover their body up so this dark version of themself can't find them.

An opportunity will come and she's not leaving without them.]

You're my friend. I don't want to go.

"Oh. You're still talking, are you?"

[The Shadow opts to ignore the child entirely, instead casting its real self a cold, disparaging look. Slowly, it adjusts its foot so that it's positioned against the back of their neck, applying just enough pressure to trigger a low, panicked wheeze as the Drifter's face digs into the earth.]

"Perhaps you'll stop once I break your neck."

Edited 2019-01-27 23:25 (UTC)

[Death isn't new to her. She's seen rotted bodies and the corpses of failed catalysts-she knows what it looks like. What it feels like. Knows that the emotions from the ghosts she ran by were grief and anger and sorrow experienced in their last moments and she's looking at the Drifter now, staring at their face-

Listening to their shadow threaten them like they're nothing-

It reminds her of being surrounded by those dogs, clutching that cat to her chest because there was no way out they had to leave they had to run and-

Running in the maze, staring down people who said cruel things to her and grabbed her to pull her back to a place she never wanted to go again and-

She died in there, but she also-

Lived. She lived because she did something and they might live if she-]

[Raising a weapon to scientists was one thing-she can't do it. Not even to a Drifter that's mean, she can't bring herself to pull that knife out and hold it towards them, but-

She lunges forward, with her hands outstretched, to try and push them off. Hoping the minimal strength in her shaky arms is enough to get them off their neck. To give them a chance to breathe. To get up. She hopes they get up.

Please get up.]

[It serves one purpose, and that might be the best thing about it - she catches the Shadow off guard. It plainly wasn't expecting her to do much of anything beside stand there and fret, uselessly, right up until she stops doing that at all.]

[It staggers slightly back from the shock of it, which is enough for the Drifter to snap into motion, rolling across the dirt, igniting their blade in a blitz of hard light, scrambling to their feet - stumbling, staggering, out of sorts, their head clouded with the disorientation of their Shadow's earlier beating, but as long as they've an ounce of strength in their soul they will always get up, they will always and always get up, and so they do.]

[The Shadow lurches for Ren with its blade out, its eyes dark and furious, for half a moment lit with that filmy, rainbowed retinal shine that looks unreal and brutal and animal - ]

[And the Drifter's blade meets it in a ferocious parry and the grinding flurry of sparks.]

[It works and the shock from her spur of the moment plan succeeding is written all over her face.

Written there, until she covers her head because the Drifter moved, the shadow's coming and everyone's too fast for her to watch. She can only see sword head for her and then-

The sound of two blades clashing. A noise that's too close and there's an immediate sense that she's not supposed to be here. Her eyes stay completely shut for a second, two seconds and-

When she cracks them open and sees that they stood up and they got up and maybe they heard something in her heart saying please get up, she looks relieved. Scared, shaken, but there's a little happiness in her expression. Not that they have the time to concentrate on her-not when they're fighting again.]

You can win. You can-you're strong. You can do things like that.

[But she can't!!! And her bravery meter has been maxed for the next thirty years, so she's going to hide behind a nearby rock.]

[No, actually, that's not their intention just now - fighting, that is. Instead, the Drifter gropes desperately for her hand, trying to seize it so that they can run in the exact opposite direction.]

[They can't beat this creature. Not when there's collateral damage standing nearby. Not when the risk of her being thrown for a loop, or made to endure something she shouldn't, is too high a cost they're willing to pay.

"You can't escape me." [The Shadow's threat is harsh and guttural, and the Drifter - ]

[Doesn't care.]

[They start tugging her hand. Come on.]

[This is a big day for unexpected behavior because they turn to grab her hand-

They initiate it and she clutches them as tight as she can, grateful and happy that they're on the same page. That they're going to leave. That this nightmare is going to be left on the beach if they run fast enough and boy is she going to channel every bit of energy she has to run.

Run and run and run, until the Drifter gives the okay to stop.]

[The Drifter, by their own nature, by their own biology, having chosen to hone the single combative advantage they've had, is fast.]

[The Drifter, when sufficiently motivated, is a blur.]

[They rocket forward in a blitz of shading afterimages, a violet streak of red bleeding into blue, more or less reduced to towing Ren bodily behind them. Their hope is that, with enough speed, her feet won't need to touch the ground at all, and they can more or less carry her by virtue of moving so quickly that it would obviate the necessity of any running on her part.]

[They bolt, so far and so fast, despite the agony spilling into their insides, the pulsing burn of every scrape and injury they've sustained, that every cluster of nerves planes out into a euphoric numb.]

[Until, eventually, they stop.]

[They stop abruptly and through no true intent of their own - their foot catching a root or a rock or something that trips and offsets their sense of balance, sending them spinning in a graceless skid-tumble through plant matter and dirt.]

[They've enough wherewithal to attempt to ball protectively around her, before the ground rushes up to meet them.]

[If it were under any other circumstance, she would find this fun. Speeding through the sand, through the jungles, through the trees, like they're back in the city Drifter imagined all those months ago, playing because they can, she would be happy.

Her feet haven't touched the ground and it's hard to breathe with the wind smacking her face, but it doesn't matter because they're alive. Nothing's behind them, or if there is, she can't see it. Doesn't want to see it. She hopes that version of them isn't as quick and lacks the ability to leave that section of sand.

And just when she thinks they're going to run, run, run all the way back to the temple, to somewhere far and safe, it's over. It stops. She blinks and takes a breath and everything's moving too fast. It gets dark and she doesn't recognize it as them wrapping around her, until they slam into the ground with enough force to jar her.

If it shook her, then-

She tries to quickly pull back, looking over their face and body for blood, for anything that hurts, to see if she can help and-]

Are you okay?

[They're not, really, all that okay. They're spitting gobbets of blood into the dirt, their shoulders tremoring with jerky, pained shivers. They're overtaxed and exhausted and hurt, and trying to maintain their level of consciousness is proving difficult.]

[But they do manage to crack their dark eyes, filmy as their gaze is, open to peer anxiously at her.]

will live
you
hurt?

[That's how it always goes.

They fight for her. They protect her. They ask if she's okay, if she's hurt, if she's safe at every opportunity.

No matter what's happening with them, they always ask about her first. Even when the only scrapes on her skin are from playing in the woods and theirs come from an endless amount of battles. They ask if she's okay, even as they're choking up blood.]

I'm okay, but-

[She has to hide them somewhere. Before that version of them catches up-she has to protect them for once.]

You should lean on me and I'll take you somewhere safe.

[They make to shake their head and stand up, and - it fails utterly, from the very first step. They slip immediately on a pool of their own pinkish blood, dribbling down past their mantle and along the front of their tunic. Their coughs are low and racking, soundless but for the soft whuff of air that trembles their back.]

[They're hurt. They are, badly, hurt.]

can move
can stand
can

[Can do anything, it seems, except ask for help.]

[She's never seen them this beat up and knowing it came from themself-that they're full of self-loathing to the point it could have-

It might have-

They would have died.

And she doesn't have the nerve to wrap her arms around them because she doesn't know the extent of their injuries or what might cause them more pain, but she does step in front of them so they can't go forward unless they move her.

Then turns and pats her shoulder. Use her!!!]

I can do that stuff for you. It's okay.

[They don't answer her. They get one hand underneath them, slip on a puddle of their own blood, nearly hits the ground face-first, tries again - they can do this. They can. They can do this, and get up. They got her this far, they got them both this far. They just need some place to keep her, to leave her, to protect her, so their darker twin (yet darker than any other darker twin they've yet had) cannot touch her.]

[They manage to glance up at her, their gaze partially blurring, fading. Blink, shake, refocus.]

will take you
back
camp

[Somewhere safe for her to be. Somewhere that Shadow cannot reach her.]

[It might be the same part of her that boiled over and pushed that scary version of them off their body, but all at once-]

If we go back, you have to rest there. You have to-you have to stay.

[Because they're falling, nearly dying, right in front of her eyes. They're injured and hurt and ripped apart in places she can't see. And she holds up her arms to catch them if they trip, staying rooted to the spot she's decided to take her final stand at, apparently.

And if they don't agree to her Terms And Conditions, well, she'll cross that bridge in a second-]

You have to lean on me too. I'll help you there.

cant

[Can't. That thing, that thing that looks like them and isn't them, is still out there and while it's still out there, they cannot let it simply have its way with whoever stumbles across it. The Drifter, incredibly, is still going, still attempting to stand, inch by painful inch, even when every movement sends an agonizing tremble rocketing up their spine, curling their hands into the soil underfoot. Their eyes clench shut. They can't think - ]

[Its words echo hollowly, thick and black and oily and wrong. They cannot allow for it to - to continue to spout whatever it thinks others need to hear, unchecked.]

still out there
must stop it
must

[It's always like this. Their nature causing them to brute force their way through every situation, even her requests. Because the most imperative, important thing to them so stopping themself, but she knows if they go back out there, in this state-

It'll kill them. It'll hurt them. It'll crush them under their foot because something in their heart does it to themself. It's what gives that thing its strength and she would give up at this point-

She would normally give up, at this point.

She would stop and let them do what they want because she's used to giving up on a normal day, let alone in the face their nonstop determination.

But she doesn't move this time. Doesn't budge an inch from her spot.]

I don't want you to. If you go back, I'll follow you.

[And by the look on her face, she really really doesn't want to do that.]

[The Drifter has just enough wherewithal to look at her with a brief and undeniable shock, present in the subtle widening of their pitch-black eyes, the way they stare at her.]

[What?]

[It doesn't...things aren't aligning in quite the right way. It's not clear why she's insisting on this, or it should be clear, but they can't quite piece together the detailing necessary to make it all draw itself together in a complete and comprehensive full picture. It hurts to think about.]

[Maybe it...maybe she just hasn't realized?]

it will hurt you
hurt others
must stop it

[It's clear. Incredibly clear what that being is going to do-the same thing all the other shadows are up to and Drifter won't stop at cleaning up their own, if they manage to take it down.

It's the one way to stop them from going. If they're trying to protect her, trying to keep her safe, like they always do, that would be the one thing to pull them away from their train of thought long enough to get her feelings across.

And when she finally managed to get their attention, the request comes out again.]

You have to rest. If we go back, I'm going to tuck you in and when you feel better, you can-that thing will still be there.

[If they just stop and recoup before heading out there, before potentially bleeding to death before they arrive, then they'll win.]

[They manage to shake their head, but it's an action that ultimately does more harm than good. Another burbling choke, and their vision whites out for a second, clouding into fuzzy, cloud-flossed nausea until they can finally dig their sword into the earth and use it as a fulcrum, get to their knees at long last.]

[They've dithered for too long.]

it does not STOP
it never stops
if i do not stop it
who will

[It's solving some kind of problem, that's for sure. They fall to their knees, clutching the sword as if it's their only lifeline, and Ren realizes this argument doesn't matter. They wouldn't have been able to make it to camp. She's not sure they can make it to the next big tree.]

I don't know, but-

[They might vanish. They might be sent away by the Storyteller. They could shift and change into something else. Another person could fight them. She doesn't know.]

That person-they're going to hurt you more. I think if you fight-if that kind of thing happens, you're going to die.

have died before
will die again

[It's issued with a sort of perplexed finality. This has never mattered to them before. They have died in pursuit of far less, and...they have pushed themself to their absolute limits, before. They have succumbed to exhaustion. They have bled out in reaching their own limits.]

[It's not clear to them why this is an obstacle, or why it should be.]

You don't have to.

[Because to her, it's painfully simple. Rest when you're injured. Hide when it's too hard to fight. Give up when it's overwhelming and they clearly don't abide by that same train of thought. She's known that for some time and it's always bothered her, but even moreso when their enemy is themself.

When that scary version confessed they hurt themself.

When their ultimate goal seems to be to kill her friend.]

I don't want you to die anymore.

January Event: Fade to Black

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/2

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)