The Mods of LifeAftr (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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lifeaftr2019-01-24 08:36 pm
lifeaftr_mods) wrote in lifeaftr2019-01-24 08:36 pm
Entry tags:
- critical role: beauregard,
- critical role: mollymauk tealeaf,
- critical role: yasha nydoorin,
- final fantasy xv: ardyn izunia,
- final fantasy xv: ignis scientia,
- hollow knight: the knight,
- hyper light drifter: the drifter,
- original: chip abaroa,
- original: erika fisher,
- tales of vesperia: alexei dinoia,
- ✖ ffxv: gladiolus amicitia,
- ✖ ffxv: prompto argentum,
- ✖ hollow knight: troupe master grimm,
- ✖ homestuck: dirk strider,
- ✖ original: foster van denend,
- ✖ tales of vesperia: yeager
January Event: Rejection Rooms
JANUARY EVENT: REJECTION ROOMS
Who: Anyone and everyone!
What: Rejecting your Light comes with dire consequences
When: January 25th - 28th
Where: All over Monsun
Warnings: Violence and possible character death; please note any specific content warnings if they come up!
What: Rejecting your Light comes with dire consequences
When: January 25th - 28th
Where: All over Monsun
Warnings: Violence and possible character death; please note any specific content warnings if they come up!
You're Ruled by the Things You Feel
This log is primarily for the Rejection Room portion of the event, for ease and convenience. To quote our event post:
If your Rejection Room opt-in comment did not receive any response or additional discussion from the mod team, consider your Room and moveset approved; we want to allow for retroactive edits to your comments and plans, if those become necessary!
Some useful links, for reference:
This log is primarily for the Rejection Room portion of the event, for ease and convenience. To quote our event post:
Characters intent on rejecting their Light will find themselves irrevocably drawn to Monsun's shores. They might not even be aware of it - driven by their rage, their paranoia, their fear, or all of the above, and more. Monsun, for its part, is happy to receive them. Its landscape has become so warped over time...and those parts of Monsun consumed by shadow will start to distort, molding into structures that such characters are only too happy to hide within: Rejection Rooms.So, simply top-level below with your character if they've signed up for a Rejection Room and prepare for whoever wants to gamble a confrontation. We recommend linking to the comment that details your character's Room, for the benefit of others. Remember to communicate; if your character is still trapped in their Room by the event's end, they will suffer a character death, though characters who merely try and fail to free them will not.
Those who challenge the Rejection Rooms need not worry about death for themselves - damage taken within the rooms will simply translate to exhaustion outside of it, with seemingly mortal wounds leading to expulsion from the room itself, and an inability to re-enter.
The same holds true for the boss of each Room. Failure to beat them into expulsion means that the Room will continue to feed from their wildly catastrophizing mind, until there's nothing left to save at all.
If your Rejection Room opt-in comment did not receive any response or additional discussion from the mod team, consider your Room and moveset approved; we want to allow for retroactive edits to your comments and plans, if those become necessary!
Some useful links, for reference:
[ ♆ ] OOC Event Post
[ ♆ ] Rejection Room Sign-Ups, for information on what Rejection Rooms look like
[ ♆ ] Deaths Page; death penalties have been reduced for the duration of this event, but remember to let us know if your character is still stuck in their Room by the event's end!
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.
( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )
no subject
The injury that doesn't close slows them down, but they throw themselves recklessly into the attack, as they've done so many times before. The essence of their creation, shielding them from harm, letting heat and light pass through and over them without trace of a scar.
(How many times did I kill you? That conversation seems so far away now. But in the end, the answer is simple.
Enough to learn.)
It's impossible to forget who they fight, even if they forgot all else, even if they let it drown in sorrow that seems to deaden the world. The connections they've made and the people they love are, it seems to them, the best and brightest part of them.
(This is a test for them, too; they can't deny or forget themselves, their own pain, their own fear, even if it hurts. It doesn't do them any favours. It doesn't make anything better.
Fear cannot be denied. If they've learned anything, it's that.)
The nail sings, a sharp whirlwind aiming to cut into him once more. But the familiar chime of the Dream Nail blends with it.
For a moment, they use both, and aim to strike with both. They had promised, but
they are already fighting the Nightmare King. So, just this once, in this place where - at least in his memories - he is whole -- they want to know his mind. ]
no subject
And so that means the Dream Nail passes through him as easily as it had once before. The Nail cuts through the God's mind, deeper and deeper until-
Until it becomes pure flame.
What pours into the Knight's mind are not words but images. A sea of flames intertwined with light. Both glow in equal measure and mix together like swimming fish. In perfect, warm balance they mingle until the light peels away and flicker out like dying fireflies.
The flames remain and embrace the Knight's mind, not to overwhelm it but cradle it like a mother cradling their child. Void were regrets unanswered and nightmares gave voice to the voiceless. Dreamless sleep were open to both dreams and nightmares, the between those two states so they did not blur as hard as they do now.
(To forget is to die and we are not death., whisper the flames of those long since gone. For what is in Grimm's mind is the endless incarnations of 'himself' and they all remained remembered.
Not death. Watching the little Vessel fight. A battle unwanted, to be ended by-)
A larger flame roars forth. Powerful, terrifying. The Terror of Sleep himself in his purest form. I see you., the flames crackle but his unwavering gaze upon the Knight is not one of anger.
(Nightmares are not malicious. They just are.)
Go past the veil, he says. To forget is to die. To remember is to stall. Wake.
The vision ends suddenly and the world itself stutters. The pulse of the Nightmare Heart skips and the sun briefly flickers out before re-appearing. Grimm bleeds red smoke and seems surprised that the Knight used the Dream Nail on him, surprised that they chose to make it. To listen to the words of many and one.
And then he disappears to be replaced by spikes and blades. Grimm's re-appearance is on the other side of the room, away from the Heart.
It stands alone.]
no subject
They had tried, once, in their curiosity. They had received the cryptic, overwhelming words of an undying flame and the sheer, searing hatred of a light forgotten. They had never tried again, after that.
They have to remember they're in a battle, but still -- it's so warm. It's more welcoming than they would have expected.
So odd, to be recognised, to be acknowledged, by the lingering ghosts of those you've never met. They wonder faintly if this is what it feels like for the dreams of those they put to rest; just to be held, waiting. Sleeping.
Wake, the god says (commands?) and they do, because vision or not, welcome or not, the fight still continues.
The sudden pain of injury shocks them into reality once more. The spikes of Grimm's cape might not be as traumatic as Radiance's blades, but they hurt just as much; it bites into their left side, their left shoulder, and pushes them away. They grip their nail more tightly in response, letting the pain focus them.
(This wound, too, does not heal. A reminder, a regret. Something they want to remember.)
Their left hand is weak enough that it hurts to raise their nail. They reinforce it with their right, lunging forward to strike him again - a thrust of their nail, not a slice like before. They leave a trail of shadow from their injuries in their wake, bleeding darkness the way he bleeds red smoke. ]
no subject
Unwilling. All of these battles are unwilling.
The nail cracks Grimm's shell and more smoke escapes, warm and whispering sweet nothings to the one breaking the God's vessel. Almost welcoming to be broken, for this is merely a dream and those dreaming must wake.
This dark dream must end. It is not the first time nor the last this will happen, but there is no choice.
Yet Grimm does not buckle under the pressure. He keeps going even under such stress as if it is not the first time. The Troupe Master is not the first to bend the Ritual into combat, a stage where flame and blade must meet. All Masters of the Troupe changed it as they saw fit and that was his choice.
(It is not the first time he has burned until his flesh melted away.)
The God of Nightmares raises his hand and the air becomes filled with--
...the smell of rotting flesh.
It happens far quicker then one may expect. The light simply vanishes and takes with it the sun and the pretty, fluffy clouds. It takes the light within the Heart of Grimm and removes the protection on the veins.
It takes and takes and takes.
The Heart sputters and beats erratically, at a lost of what to do without its other side. The patchwork on the floor begins to tear itself to pieces and belch flame as the veins begin to melt. The world itself shudders and begins to crumble. It is rotting.
It is dying.
And Grimm knows it. Unmindful of the nail that may still be imbedded in his shell, the Troupe Master moves towards the Heart. He looks...scared. Frightened.
Lost, as the Nightmare King once looked. The moment of betrayal in his mind. The moment the Radiance cast him down.
This is that moment.]
no subject
The world changes around them, and it's startling. The light goes out, the Heart begins to fall to pieces; Grimm looks lost. It's not like the racing beat of the Nightmare Heart they know, still intact, speeding up as the dance reaches its conclusion.
(They feel like a stranger, an intruder. This is an old, old memory, a re-enactment of something that has already happened, what once was.
They are a sympathetic child, and their heart aches. After all, they, too, understand what it's like to be cast away.)
They don't move quite fast enough to grab their nail and avoid being touched by the fire that bursts from the floor; pain sears through them and leaves nothing in its wake, not even ash.
They stare almost contemplatively at where their left arm used to be, and then put it aside for now. They have one arm left, so that's fine.
They can still continue. And it was so quick that it barely hurt at all.
(The place where their arm used to be trails shadow into the air; red cracks spiral outwards from it, livid marks of a burn recently received.) ]
no subject
That someone would live.
This world has no time for a child. But when Grimm turns around, ready to defend what remained of that precious flame, he sees--
Someone his heart remembers. Someone precious. Someone who....someone...
(To forget is death. To remember is to stall.
To move on is to live with the knowledge both will happen.)
The space below Grimm tears itself open and belches flame that consumes his form and...he does not move. It eats at his form until it shatters and the Grimmchildren burst forth and swarm in the air. The red-eyed one still remains, still vulnerable to damage from the Knight's blade if they so desire to strike it.
These children will not reform into Grimm's familiar shape and instead sink into the ground, only to erupt into flame pillars with sizable gaps to safely stand in. Grimm himself will shortly appear by the Heart and
The world stutters again and suddenly changes back to what it once was, sunlight breaking through the darkness. But the Troupe Master is breathing hard and the cracks and scorch marks upon his person remain.
He broke himself apart with his own flame because his heart knew who he was fighting. But his crimson eyes still remain blind. This battle is not over yet.]
no subject
They touch, uncomprehendingly, at where something should be and find nothing at all. The red cracks that carve their way across the Knight's form is terribly reminiscent of someone taller and stronger, but far too young for the burden placed on their shoulders.
They watch, hazily, as Grimm does things they don't quite understand, shatters apart in the flame. But fire brings it back into focus, as ever; they react swiftly to danger, dodging out of the way. They can dwell on what they've lost later; the loss of a limb is better than a loss of life.
(They instinctively understand the rules of this place will not let them repeat this battle. They will only ever get one try. It becomes more urgent, now, than ever before, to succeed.
Something terrible will happen if they fail--
(They take the burden on themselves, as ever.))
The world reforms, turns back its own decay. The heart beats, whole once more.
They dash forward, their swings slightly clumsier now, but with no less strength behind them. This is a dream that only ends at the conclusion of a fight, at an opponent's defeat. The only language they really have left to them, in the end. ]
no subject
It was a wonderful experience. A beauty that was unparalleled.
But this...was not. He snaps back together, whole again and dodges the strikes rather then simply endure them as before. They are making progress in forcing Grimm to dodge rather then take the nail strikes as they come. He was build to endure until the time for the Ritual came.
His end would come from nothing less. But this world was not Hallownest and he was mortal when it counted here. And even within his breaking mind, Grimm was well aware of his limits.
Once again the darkness begins to seep out from its hiding spot, clawing at the Knight to grab hold and never let go. The darkness will hold them in place but as it is always is, being grabbed will cause no harm.
And if not, if they do not want to risk finding out what it does, Grimm is vulnerable.
A curious thought, to think that. The Knight knows Grimm's abilities. If he did not want to be pulled away from the past he could crush the Knight. Tear into them with the same ruthlessness of the Nightmare King and shove them out of his crumbling mind and leave Grimm to parish in the past he so missed.
He clearly has that power but has not used it to its full functionality.
So perhaps...]
no subject
They wish they knew. They wish they had been told anything much about dreams and gods; not the whispering things left behind by the ghosts of the past, but the light of the present.
All they can do is react, to fight against what seems like an unbending, unrelenting force.
They're slower, feeling their injuries more, but they shy away from the darkness (they've had enough of their own regrets, caught up in someone else's as they are). Their dodging is clumsy; they stumble. But they regain their footing, tenuous as it is, and make another attempt at striking him.
There is no joy to be gained from something like this. ]
--st a little longer--just a--little more--
--I'm tired.
I'm so--
so tired.--
[ A voice that sounds like the quiet trickle of water, the near-silent fall of rain. (This world is not Hallownest and not the realm of dreams or nightmares - but this space, created for a certain purpose, to bring out someone else's mind, is just similar enough to bring out a voice that's impossible in reality.) ]
no subject
They are not immortal in the traditional sense, however. The Nightmare King was cast down and the Radiance was ripped from her throne. Unn must sleep until the day that she woke again and even the Pale King, unknowable in mind, vanished without a trace.
There will be an end to this battle.
And he can hear the little voice drifting on wind so hot it occasionally sparks with flames that cannot harm anything. Someone, someone precious, is so very tired. A little longer, a little more.
(We are not death, the past had whispered. We are not death.
Death of the past, death of the metaphorical. Death of children, of that certain horror that lay in the Abyss.
Silent voices shout and sing.)
Grimm stops dodging the strikes that come his way but soon the world begins to rot again and drains his attention towards the Knight in exchange for the dying Heart.
It is easy to understand why. The Nightmare King had desperately kindled the flames of his dying heart in the past and that memory was burned into the mind of each vessel that came after him. Lost in the past where it could happen again if left alone, what else would he do?
Even if it was a determent to his own health.
Drifting along the winds to mix with the Knight's words are another's. The God of Nightmares observing, as this is Grimm's mind and he is a part of it that cannot be denied.]
...dream must end....
...a gentle dawn....
...listen to his words...
[Using the Dream Nail had allowed the Knight to hear the words of those who had come before Grimm and the Nightmare King himself.
But...where were Grimm's own thoughts?]
no subject
(It's impossible for them not to think of him as Grimm, even if he is not the first, even if he will not be the last. To them, he will always be the one that is uniquely the Troupe Master, even if they were to meet his child grown, his child's children after them.)
The god in flames and whispered words bids them to do something, and they do. This is Grimm's mind, so maybe it is that simple...
They stop their motion, looking attentively up at him (the first time they've really looked at him), and do as they've always done.
Listen. ]
no subject
He had meant it when he had said that this memory should not be the Knight's to bare. It is not that Grimm doubted that they couldn't hold what was consumed by the rage and sorrow of the Nightmare King. The problem was that they would.
They would take this memory without question and hold it inside them, allowing Grimm to wash his hands of the matter and move on. But it would leave the Knight with this terrible memory thrown upon them by yet another God. He didn't want that. Never again.
(He was the Flame that allowed the regrets of the lands to burn and be free, not bind them and leave it to rot.)
But in that desire to not hurt them, Grimm still managed to hurt the Knight terribly. All cards on the table, he desired this place in his heart. Even now the cycle still called to him and to take his place by the side of someone the God of Nightmares loved deeply. But that time has long since passed.
To forget is to die. To remember is to stall. The words come quietly like ash from a dying flame.]
I am sorry, for what I have done.
This dream is what I desire in my heart.
But it must end.
[It must end, as all dreams do. Not just because it turn into his personal nightmare in the end. For that too was involved in this particular memory; the warmth of the light and the pain of the rot.
Looking back on this hurt, without a doubt. But there is something in that pain Grimm had missed in his Light's explanation. That it was okay that it hurt, it should hurt but that didn't mean it was not something he couldn't reflect on.
Remember so the memory doesn't die and then move forward.]
....shadows dream of endless fire. Flames devour and embers swoop.
[The world soon smoothly slides back into its whole state and Grimm again vanishes to reappear elsewhere to summon spikes and swords. The Knight heard his words and that the dream must end. There is little time left in this world.
So then...perhaps it is time for the Ritual to be conducted. For Grimm's mind and for the Nightmare King's past. The ash of the past was already here. Now.
Now it is time to scatter it in the wind.]
no subject
In the end, it's a simple desire, isn't it? To remember something that you once had, to long for something that can't be repaired.
(In some ways, if they were predisposed to envy, if they didn't understand how terrible this pain of separation was, they would almost be jealous.
No matter how painful the memory compared with what came after, there was a time where he was loved before he was cast away.
But it's a tired, brittle feeling, caused by exhaustion, by doing too much at once. It lasts for a heartbeat, for a long second, before they brush it away easily. Ash in the wind.
They feel a twinge of guilt for even thinking it.)
Tiredness makes it easy to sink back into that state they had once embraced, that forgiving darkness. In the light of the flame, there is always a flickering, dancing shadow.
They're strong enough, even down an arm (their sibling was-is-strong enough without it, too), even as exhausted as they are, so they...
They do what they are good at, what they are best at. They do what must be done, as they have always have.
Here and now, there is no other choice.
It feels easy to let old instincts take over, to fight as they're used to doing, to hunt and chase and interact with the world at the point of a blade.
Later, later, they will face themselves later and pay for it later -- but right now, they need that numbing, healing darkness, the strength that once united an ocean of regrets and consumed a god.
They will bring an end to this painful dream. ]
no subject
He is sorry for this dream of his own creation, this memory of desire, of dreams and nightmares. Of two Gods who long since split that drew the Knight in when they did not ask for this. Even if it is a burden that they gladly take, it is still a burden.
Grimm loved and hated the Radiance, his sister. The soft light that carried a sharp blade. She had always been that way. What transpired between them at the end of their collective world should have been their's to carry. They both made their choices in twilight, where dreams and nightmares split. The karma that of that single should have come to roost with the ones who caste their stones.
No. It comes to the Knight. It comes to the child who had room in their heart for all but themself.
(The Nightmare King was loved and cast away. The Knight was cast away and forgotten.
The God of Nightmares cared for little beyond few things. But perhaps, one day, he will realize the similarities that Grimm knows.)
But, in this place where dreams and nightmares once mingled without fear, the ability to chose is gone. Grimm will continue to fight and protect the Heart forever living and dying. The Knight will battle to save their friend.
He can hear it. The sound of the ocean rising to consume his flames.
(Shadows dream of endless fire, to be given voice. To dance and dream.
To live. To live. Live. Let them live the life they had fought hand over fist to hold.
Let them live.)
The light within the Heart burns as Grimm calls upon the walls of flame and light.
And as the Knight cuts away at the Troupe Master's dream, at the God of Nightmare's own personal hell, does the world begin to slowly rot again.
Slowly. The dream is ending slowly.
But it is ending.]
no subject
It was a brief, fleeting vision of someone else's happiness, of things made whole and right; someone else's place to belong. They can't, in truth, be entirely afraid, nor entirely angry, nor anything else.
(If they had been able to witness Hallownest in its prime, even knowing the cost, even knowing its fall, it would bring that same bittersweet feeling. Something can be wrong and right, all at once. Something can be beautiful and rotting.
It's not wrong to be happy, to be loved, even for the briefest moment.
It's not for them to judge.)
This battle is ultimately not a choice, not if the outcome they desire must come to pass - but they can at least choose how they feel about it.
Saying sorry means there is something to forgive. From the Knight's perspective, they find little to forgive in the first place.
If it had happened to them, if their places were reversed, they are certain the anguish and emotions shared would be the same. A shadow rising to bring eternal sleep turned into a flame that drives away any darkness. An execution made a scorching performance.
With the stubborn determination that once felled a god, they bring their nail to bear as many times as it takes.
It's fitting, maybe? In this moment they are closer to acting as Grimm's child - member of the Troupe, burning nightmares to wake someone sleeping - than ever before. ]
no subject
The decay, the true death of worlds were more dreadful. To produce nothing more, to be consumed by darkness and never move on.
To be forgotten.
(Is that the death he had given the world within his own heart? The love and hatred of the Radiance rotting this world from the inside out, what Grimm's Light had warned him about?
He remembered the hate and forgot the love. Stalled it. Did not accept the nightmare of this little world and so made it that nothing new could be birthed. Desired the past in the same way the Pale King did and did not let go of what once was, even as the rotting flesh slipped through his fingers.
Grimm and the Nightmare King would never forgive the Radiance for what she did. Even if time was turned back, they would not. But the happiness she gave them could not be forgotten.
Neither of them were death, nor could deny that happiness.
They...do not have to deny it. That hatred and love.)
The Knight comes for him in the same way they once came after the Goddess. An ocean of regret that will wash away his flames. Not to extinguish all that Grimm was but simply calm the raging fire. It's beautiful. It always has been, even since that first dance.
And so eventually, through light, flame and darkness...it stops.
The Heart, the flames...it all stops.
Grimm's knees hit the ground as he collapses, only supporting himself with his hands. The world crumbles as the thread that holds this all together strains to compensate for the dead Heart. Ash spills out from the God's chest and splatters against the ground, as his own heart is literally rotting.
But the battle is not over. Flames still erupt from the ground but they are...gentle. It will indeed hurt to stand in them but no more then a bad burn. Nothing like the flames that consumed the Knight's arm.
The battle is over but the world is tipping at the edge. It needs one more push to finally move on.]
no subject
It's not the same. It's not the same (even as Grimm collapses, even as ash and fire billows from the wounds they've left in him). They have to hold onto that.
They can't do it again.
The world waits for a final push. They know what it is; it's something that has already been determined.
They stopped feeling their injuries a while ago, but as they return to themselves pain makes itself known once again. The slow, painful throb where an arm used to be, the ache of cuts and scrapes, bruises and burns, where they weren't quite fast enough.
They limp through the fire without slowing much. They've had worse, endured worse, been killed by worse;
but no, they can no longer ask themselves why this hurts so much. It's a fresh, new wound; it will bleed, and then it will heal, and perhaps it will scar. Another lesson learned, a memory made.
Just for a moment, they kneel in kind. Just for a moment, they reach out in a familiar gesture, even though hugging is no longer really possible the way they are used to with only one arm.
They press their forehead against Grimm's for a brief moment. It's as much as they'll allow themselves to give, otherwise they won't be able to go through with things at all.
Then they grip the nail tightly and ram it through his chest, upwards, with all the strength they have left.
If they can ask for one thing, let that be enough. ]
no subject
But to contain nightmares is to contain the fear of the lands and bugs as it was those made with Void were the ones who would always hold the regrets of all. They both had ghosts that followed along, chained to children even if they would or would not grow. There were limits.
And this, a crumbling heart and body, was Grimm's limit. He had nothing left but to wake.
It is not the first time he has been brought this low. Unknown to the Knight, for those who could not dream-walk and meet the Nightmare King in person, there was another method. To fight and dance and burn until he could no more. To draw the God of Nightmares as close as possible to the physical realm, becoming that Flame. He was born from Flame and would die and be reborn endlessly by that Flame.
The Nightmare King is not here, nor are the countless incarnations long since past. It was just Grimm and the Knight. Just two people who carried burdens in their hearts that left no room for the one who carried them. Something done willingly but heavy all the same.
The Troupe Master feels the Knight press their forehead against his for a moment and relaxes. He knows what is coming. The world hangs on a rapidly unraveling thread. If he was to wake from this crumbling world then it must be destroyed.
The nail pierces his chest and through his back. Ash and red smoke seep through the gaps between blade and shell, but there is no sound of pain. Even if it hurts, Grimm closes his eyes without a sound passing his lips.
There is no heartbeat echoing in the room any longer. The stitched together nature of the world begins to unravel and expose the darkness underneath. But it is not the darkness of regret.
It's the darkness of newer world. When all nightmares are taken the lands become dark until the light shines upon them again. Before it was the Radiance's light. Now? It was simply the light carried within each unique bug that wandered the new soil.
Worlds within worlds. Endless songs.
Grimm feels the fuzzy edges of his mind sharpen and he wraps his arms around the Knight. He did not know if the Knight will follow him back into reality and he was holding on desperately to make sure that happened. It must happen.
If he can ask for anything, let them not have sacrificed their life for his.]
no subject
They let go of the nail. If they could have closed their eyes, they would. There's nothing left but to wait, and to wake.
Perhaps they could stay here forever, if they really wanted. Held inside a dissolving dream, their existence is fragile. It reminds them of being cast away; it seems so long ago, now, that distant memory.
"Fade away, little shadow.
Fade away, and let us sleep in peace."
Grimm returns to lucidity, and as if in exchange, their own perception, sharpened to a desperate point, begins to lose focus. They feel exhausted in a way that rarely overtakes them.
They're very tired, and someone is holding them, and it's comfortable here. That's the only sort of thought that really passes through their head, as the world ends
(in the space between, there echoes an almost-silent response to a desperate question; I wouldn't mind.)
the dream crumbles like ash in the wind, the fire spent.
Waking up is sudden, though not particularly unpleasant. They feel bruised and battered, which is the most unusual part. Dream battles don't usually mirror to reality that closely, or at all, but this one seems to have made an exception.
They sit up and look down at themselves, and find that they still have two arms. That's a good thing. They pat themselves down to see if anything else is amiss, and their right hand finds a new scar where they dreamed of a left arm burned away.
It's not the clean entry-exit wound of a nail's thrust; it is jagged and rough. They examine it idly, finding it rings around their entire left arm where shoulder meets torso, like the unfinished seam left by impatient, rushed stitching.
It glows faintly red. It looks like the familiar stitching of patchwork veins and a heart that once held a radiant light. It doesn't seem to hurt at all.
Grimm is...somewhere around, they're fairly certain (they hope), so they're...content, despite the injury. They don't move, still sore and preoccupied with their new scar. ]
no subject
A fall back into that, into a beautiful unknown. Grimm breathes as his heart slows down to normal. The dream ends and so, finally, he wakes.
Although it does not feel that way at the moment. He is slow to open his eyes due to the profound exhaustion weighing on his limbs. It feels like a fog had descended upon his mind after leaving the Knight and was only now clearing, despite fully remembering what happened within his own mind.
(He feels the Nightmare King close his eyes with a sigh and sleeps yet again.
Sleeping within a stitched-together Heart, broken but still here to dream.)
Red smoke is still seeping out of his body but the wounds sustained from the Knight's efforts had not transferred to reality. The feeling of a nail shoved through his chest was still there, a phantom pain of what it took to free the Troupe Master from his own folly, but he was whole and alive.
But Grimm remembers the state the Knight had been in and what they suffered to free him. Enduring flame and light, the full force of the Nightmare King and the Radiance when they were together as one. They...their arm. They lost it in the fury of Grimm's fire. Oh God, were they--
(They were Grimm's family, one of his children and what has he done to them?)
Grimm forces himself to stand despite his body's protests and walks forward. It is not an elegant process but frankly he does not care. He was made to endure and Grimm will take full advantage of that fact to get to the Knight's side.
He will inevitably collapse as his legs give out but he will still reach out to try and touch the Knight.]
Knight...are you...?
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Then he collapses and they immediately push themselves to their feet, despite everything in their body telling them that this is a bad idea. They ignore it because ignoring it is something they're very good at by now.
They manage a few steps before they trip and fall face-first into the sand, and decide that ignoring all their warning signals is something they can't get away with any more.
It's fine. It's fine!!
They guess what his most immediate worry must be and crawl forward a few more inches so he doesn't have to force himself up again, patting at his face with both hands. See, they still have two arms! It's okay!
A jagged scar that looks like hasty, ragged stitching is the only reminder of that loss; it glows like a dying ember in the shadow of their cloak and marks the join between torso and shoulder. Apart from that soft glow, nothing else remains, not even pain.
It could be worse, they think, so they don't really pay it much attention. ]
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But this does not mean they did not suffer. Grimm can see the scar that remains of what the Knight lost, the jagged stitching reminding him strongly of the first few made upon the Heart's flesh made in haste to save what he could.
Scars from two people the Knight loved.
Grimm's hands are trembling when he reaches towards the Knight and not just from exhaustion. If they let him, he will pull them in a tight embrace. He's shaking.
It's not the first time he has felt fear. Grimm knew it would be an unmitigated disaster if the God of Nightmares suppressed such emotions or refused to acknowledge it. To take nightmares is to know the fears of bugs, after all. Being unable to sympathize with that would make him more of a failure God then usual.
And so he does not deny that he is scared now, and horrified at his own actions. It was Grimm's refusal to acknowledge the love for the Radiance that still lingered within him that caused this. He may have not been in control of what he did in that dream but if he had just handled things better...
(Struggling in the ashes of the broken Heart and body, the God of Nightmares wonders what he could have done differently while listening to the sound of himself screaming until his voice broke under the strain.
Even before parting his power into a vessel, something was lost in the change.)]
I'm...sorry. I am so very sorry for what I have done to you.
[Grimm has nothing left but those words. He had sworn to not add to the Knight's burdens but did anyway.]
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It's important to let him know, they think, that it doesn't change their opinion of him. There's no fear or hesitation in the way they reach up and wrap their arms around his neck, burying their face in his shoulder.
(The void accepts. Pain, suffering, regret. What else can they do? It's over now.)
I'm sorry, he says, and they sort of...unlatch an arm and squish a hand against his face.
...
They push at his cheek a little like they're trying to make him take it back. Even if he's sorry, they are not; they did what was necessary to save him, and he is safe. So they're content. ]
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Until the day the Heart stops beating and the Flame finally flickers out, the ash scattering in the wind.
...but it is difficult to think such thoughts when the Knight is pressing a hand against his cheek like they were trying to rub the remaining ash off. After everything that has took place it is...strange. No, not quite that. Not something Grimm was expecting, certainly.
(Welcoming, despite everything.)
His laughter is nowhere close to how it normally is, quiet and tinged with sadness, but it is still in him to laugh.]
...you are a strange person, my friend. No matter what ill will is forced upon you, you find forgiveness for the burdens pushed on your shoulders. Strange yet so incredibly strong.
[Grimm looks down at the Vessel, reaching up to touch their hand pressed against his face.]
But it still is my fault that this was visited upon you. I should have listened to myself and remembered. Both our hatred...and our love.
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(No, they know the difference between his laughs by now. It's not right, not entirely good. But not entirely wrong, either.)
More talk about burdens, things that they can only look upon as an outsider. They cling to him more tightly, more insistently, and seem pleased as they can express when he puts a hand on theirs.
They'll stay here for as long as he wants, and listen if he needs it, but mostly...
Mostly, they think they're being selfish. Perhaps it would be better or easier to stay away, to not be hurt. But they like - they love Grimm too much not to follow, not to stay away even when it might hurt less not to do so.
He's comforting to them. It's something, he is someone, that they want to hold onto. To forgive over and over, endlessly.
It is lonely, having only yourself in the end, carrying a weight only you understand. They know that, they understand that, more than anything. ]