Settling In Whilst Unsettled (June Catch-all)

[xiaoxiuya]

xiaoxiuya 
deercountry 

Who: Shen Yuan and anyone else who'd like to jump in, unless otherwise noted.
What: Xiu Ya's intro, dealing with June nightmare event, trying to make blessedwithlove house more liveable
When: June, after the TDM
Where: Furthest Shore and Lumenwood, more tbd

Content Warnings: Nightmares will include depictions of torture and dismemberment.

Comments

Nightmare +1, Varre's house (closed to Varre without PM) CW: torture

[xiaoxiuya]

Shen Yuan could see his breath; the floor was cold, bruising stone beneath his knees. He was tied hand and foot with Immortal Binding Cables, and trapped in a cell no bigger than two meters by two, with three walls of the same white stone as the floor. The fourth wall was an opaque curtain of water, roaring loud enough to deafen and smelling faintly of acid.

It was the waterfall that tipped him off: he was in the prison beneath Huan Hua Palace, and that meant he was totally, utterly boned. In his terror, Shen Yuan wasn't able to hold back a pathetic little whimper, chewing his lower lip as the waterfall suddenly split down the middle like a curtain, the volume dropping down to a dull murmur, and a shadowed but all too familiar figure entered his cell.

Oddly it was that pathetic little sound that gave him hope: he remembered this scene, and Shen Qingqiu had remained stoic until the very end. Refusing to beg for mercy, to show any hint of weakness...it was a long shot, but lacking any better options...

"Binghe," Shen Yuan whispered through a throat so tight it ached and lips so dry they'd cracked. Horribly his captor only hummed quietly, as if to show he was listening: as Binghe came closer Shen Yuan could see a small, gentle smile on his face. It wracked him with terrified shivers, even moreso than the additional length of binding cable in Binghe's hands. In the book one of the most paradoxical, and thus terrifying aspects of Luo Binghe's character was how he hid his hatred and rage behind smiles, his most loathed enemies lulled into a false sense of security by shows of kindness and gentility.

Shen Yuan tried again. "Binghe," he croaked. "This, this master entreats you, listen to him, please..."

"It seems as though this lord has wasted far too much listening to you already, Shizun," Luo Binghe said, still so gently. He was walking closer, his hands unwinding the binding cable. "But this lord supposes he can listen to his old master once again, for old time's sake."

"This master --" Shen Yuan choked into silence as Binghe walked behind him, leaving his line of sight. He tried to turn his head, but Binghe grabbed his hair and held him still; only when Shen Yuan stopped moving did he let go, giving Shen Yuan a little pat on the head like a dog. Shen Yuan nearly choked again on his terrified humiliation; even though it was technically in his favor, giving him more time to get his shit together, the way Binghe was dragging this out was a torture in its own right, nearly making Shen Yuan wish he'd just get it over with already.

But only nearly. "This master wishes to beg for his life," Shen Yuan began again, unable to make his voice rise above a hoarse whisper no matter how hard he tried. "He...this master is not the one injured his student. That was the real Shen Qingqiu, who hurt you. This master was merely forced to wear his face, I...I haven't done anything." His voice was shaking worse than ever by the time he finished speaking; on 'anything' his voice cracked, coming dangerously close to a sob.

Binghe hummed again, stooping down behind Shen Yuan. He couldn't tell what exactly Binghe was doing, but he felt the ropes wrapped around his wrists tug oddly, pulled into some new shape. "How very interesting, Shizun," he purred. "So you claim not to be the teacher who tormented this lord in his youth?"

"I'm not," Shen Yuan agreed. He could hear Binghe standing up, moving somehow -- there was a rustling of fabric, a...a quiet thump? He didn't understand what Binghe was doing, he was sure he didn't really want to know...

"You aren't the teacher who threw hot tea in this lord's face? Who beat him until he bled? Who forced him to sleep in a woodshed instead of a proper bed?" Binghe still spoke so calmly, so genially, but each question hit Shen Yuan like a blow. He didn't dare point out that it had been Ming Fan and the other disciples who had hounded Binghe out of the dorms; the things Shen Qingqiu had done were bad enough.

"No," he agreed, "that wasn't me." He didn't dare turn his head, but out of the corner of his eye he could see Binghe tying the other end of the rope to a hook in the wall. What was that for?

"Then this lord supposes you were likewise not the teacher who threw this lord into the Endless Abyss?"

It felt as though Shen Yuan's heart froze in his chest.

"No," he whispered. "That wasn't me."

Binghe sighed.

"Oh, Shizen," he said mournfully. "Do you think this lord can't tell when you are lying?"

And he yanked on the rope he'd tied to the hook in the wall, the rope whose other end had been tied to Shen Yuan's wrists. Shen Yuan shrieked as he was suddenly pulled to his feet, and then higher, his boots leaving the ground as his arms were wrenched into an unnatural angle and his shoulders strained, strained and suddenly released --

Shen Yuan woke up screaming, screaming and thrashing against the cables he imagined still bound him so tightly.

Nightmare 2, location TBD. CW for torture and limb loss.

[xiaoxiuya]

Binghe had pulled a large weight out of one his space pouches and ties Shen Yuan's feet to it with more of the binding cable; he was stretched to his full length, still hanging from the ceiling from arms that were definitely dislocated, he could just tell --

It hurt. Oh fuck, it hurt so much, every time he let out another sob his entire body shook and it pulled on the empty space in his shoulder sockets, it hurt and he couldn't stop.

"Please," he whimpered, "please, no more, I'm sorry Binghe, I'm sorry --"

"I'm done with you running away from me, Shizun," Binghe said coldly. "From now on you'll have to listen to this lord."

He drew his sword. Shen Yuan shut his eyes tight.

"...Shizun," Binghe said so softly. "Won't you look at this lonely disciple?"

He'd never been able to refuse Binghe anything he asked for in that tone of voice. Nothing except that one, terrible thing -- Shen Yuan opened his eyes.

Xin Mo slid through the air like water.

It didn't hurt. His body barely even moved with the blow, it was so quick and clean -- for a single moment, Shen Yuan wondered if Binghe had even hit him at all. But then Binghe cut the rope holding him up, and Shen Yuan fell to the floor.

He couldn't catch himself. His face hit the floor. That hurt. And then the ropes around his arms came loose, his arms fell to the floor, and even knowing he was hurt, that it would hurt even more, he still tried to push himself up onto his hands and knees.

His knees...

He didn't have knees.

Nightmare 3, the School of Mutter with Viktor. CW for choking

[xiaoxiuya]

"Oh, Shizun...even now, you still want to run from me?"

It was true. Shen Yuan could feel himself bleeding out, his arms trembling, vision darkening -- but his heart still beat strong in his chest, and his mind was fixated on one idea and one alone: escape. Getting away before Binghe hurt him anymore.

It was a futile attempt. He'd barely made it the length of a single pace before a hard grip seized him by the hair, yanking him up and back. Shen Yuan shrieks as for a heart-stopping moment all of his weight rests on his, his stumps, and then he's fallen onto his back and Luo Binghe is looming over him, a terrible light in his face. Binghe was saying something but Shen Yuan couldn't hear it over the pounding of his own heart, humiliation burning his insides just as badly as the pain and terror.

It was stupid. It was suicidal. He'd already given Binghe so many reasons to hurt him, did he really need to hand him one more? But he wasn't thinking about that, he was just thinking of how badly he wanted the pain and humiliation to stop when he pulled a hand back and struck Binghe across the face.

Binghe's gasp was loud like a file on metal is loud, and twice as grating. He snarled. His hands closed, tight and hard, around Shen Yuan's throat.

Thread here.

[blessedwithlove]

Sleep never came easily to Varré. It was a skittish thing, and he'd long since giving up chasing it. Better to simply ignore it, and let it come when it wished. Of course, he'd barely slept at all since his arrival. He accepted his fate, of course he did, he was here for reasons he didn't yet understand. But it still left him restless and searching for direction. Praying for answers, though he knew he would gain no explicit guidance. Still, it provided him some comfort. He was alive and whole. Changed, but in a way that would help him survive this new land. There was still a plan. A greater power that guided him.

At last, it was enough. He was falling asleep on the floor where he'd knelt, beside his bed. It would be more comfortable here. Familiar.

He slept.

At least, until the screaming started.

Well. Familiar didn't always mean restful, did it. Limgrave nights had been full of the screaming of withered martyrs on their stakes, Liurnia was full of shrieking wraiths, and the Dynasty's palace juxtaposed reverential silence with the wild cries of sacrifices and celebrants alike.

He supposed he should be used to this by now. But no, here he lay on the floor, wrapped in the disorienting fog of interrupted dreams. There didn't seem to be any sounds of violence, just terror.

Perhaps the racket would stop soon.

...No. It didn't seem that it would.

He rose, straightening his mask, and wobbling slightly on a numb leg. Ah. That was the voice of his housemate, wasn't it. What a shame he wasn't in the proper presence of mind to enjoy the screaming.

The poor fool seemed entirely unfit for life of any hardship, so it was no surprise his mind was inventing more terrors in his sleep. He was tempted to leave him there, but no. Spite would only carry him so far through the next day, he knew that well enough.

With a sigh, he made his way down the hall to the other bedroom, letting himself in.

"Oh, do wake up, princeling," he admonishes the prone figure in the gloom. "Save some of that terror for the waking, sunlit world."

[xiaoxiuya]

Shen Yuan wakes up with a whimper, hands flailing as they seek any source, however unlikely, of security and comfort after that. That experience.

What they find is Varre, and Shen Yuan latches onto him like he's trying to cut off Varre's circulation. He whimpers again, almost hyperventilating in the dark room, his sweat-tangled bed.