deercountry | general log catch-all

[Quicksand, giant frogs, mosquito swarms and some asshole grandpa with a gun? Bring it on. Forebodingly dark, forbiddingly dangerous catacombs? Fine, whatever. But puzzles? That's downright Kafkaesque. Head tilted, one hand on her hip, she makes a circuit of the stone tiles without touching any of them, looking more like an unimpressed art critic than a dirt-smeared, hollow-eyed, but grimly determined spelunker.]

Can't we just smash some skeletons instead? I think I'd rather do that.

[Even another round of murder tag with the asshole grandpa would be preferable. Because truly, what was being hunted for sport compared to the hell of having to rely upon her intelligence for survival—in other words, the part of herself that she had little faith in and could not trust? A loaded gun was definitely a threat, but it was also a straightforward and blessedly uncomplicated one.]

[At first Lys thought she was hallucinating, maybe as a direct consequence of narrowly surviving a tumble through deadly mushroom spores; now she only wishes that she was. The idea that she was losing her mind wasn't half as scary as a reality where ghosts could literally haunt you, follow you, pin you down with the weight of their dead gaze.

Especially these specific ghosts. Corpses? Whatever they were, there's five of them trailing behind Lys like a shambling chain of zombie ducklings. She refuses to acknowledge any of them, staring fixedly ahead as she marches forward with long strides. One hand aims a flashlight down a narrow rock tunnel with a sloped ceiling; the other can't seem to decide if it wants to rest on the hilt of her sword or hang loose at her side, moving restlessly like a nervous bird unable to find a stable perch.]

These catacombs can't go on forever. We've gotta be getting close to some kind of exit.

[ Her voice is flat, colorless, easily mistaken for controlled calm; the voice of a survivor tamping down on their emotions through long experience. ]

Nnnnoooope.

[In stark comparison, Kokichi is entirely in his element. The rest of the challenges have been tests of physical endurance, which he could manage, but he's not exactly Tenko so they've been a bit of a trial here and there, and it doesn't help he's a staunch pacifist...but now here was a mental challenge.

He looked over the designs, tapping his foot.]

...It's something to do with the patron pthumerians. Use your head for something other than being stubborn and help out.

[Lys hasn't been this tired in a long time. She won't admit it, but that doesn't make it any less true. Fighting (and killing) a rogue werewolf was a taxing but straightforward affair; the real work lay in finding and then exposing them, spinning out battle plans that could bring down the target at the right time, the right place, and with minimal risk to one's own secrets. The challenges of the jungle and catacombs had been chaos of an entirely different sort, prolonged and exhausting, a constant hammer on her brain. By comparison, a task that was no more complicated than "follow a freaky dog-deer-thing around and kill anything even worse that pops up" was practically a vacation.

She moves slowly, with small sighs, following one of the blood hounds to a copse of trees where blood blisters grow like strange, deadly fruit. Everyone gets their turn on sentry duty in her guild, and without missing a beat, she takes up a post by an unaffected tree a dozen or so yards away; close enough to jump in if the worst case scenario happens and the blister bursts, drawing in beasts that must be exterminated, but far enough away to give the blood hound room to work. And to put herself comfortably outside the potential splash zone.

(...she hopes.)

Yawning once, she settles in for a long wait, unbuckling her sword sheath from her belt and laying it flat across her lap.]

[Lys has never thought to wonder if she might be claustrophobic. She'd grown up in the sprawling countryside, spending her days outside in the open air and her nights under a roof that easily accommodated a family of six. Even after reaching six feet, two inches, she's never felt physically stifled by the world⁠—only psychologically, hemmed in by the invisible barriers of class.

But after shimmying through narrow tunnels and descending by rope through dark shafts, constantly surrounded by unyielding rock walls, she's starting to think differently. It feels like time has no meaning down here; like the darkness itself has weight; like she can't take a full breath. Just small birdlike sips of air, shallow, unsatisfying. For a moment she stops walking, focusing only on forcing herself to inhale deeply—she wasn't going to let her stupid brain, of all things, suffocate her—and then suddenly lifts her head, cocking it at a doglike angle.]

W-Wait...wait a minute. Can you smell that?

[The faintest whiff of fresh air, outside air, from somewhere up ahead. Or were her enhanced senses just totally scrambled from being underground for too long?]

[Mebh is pretty tired herself after having spent days in that strange jungle trying to survive things like giant frogs and quicksand. As much as she's missed being able to run around in the wild, she wouldn't mind taking a break from that just for a moment.

It seems Trench had other ideas, though. Mebh has accepted the fact that hardly anything grows in this new world, but now it seems as though plants have burst into life everywhere. Which would be nice, if it weren't for those weird fleshy lumps that seem to have popped up everywhere as well.

For a while she carefully makes her way through the overgrown terrain, her wolf Omen padding alongside her, until she spots one of those strange dogs. The wolf grows, but Mebh quickly shushes it; this dog is just strange enough to be intriguing. It doesn't take her long to notice that someone else is in this clearing, too.]

Is that dog yours?

[ Lys might be calm here - or rather, desperately pretending to be while ignoring everything that's going on around them - but Chizuru isn't so calm.

Because where the other is constantly looking ahead of them, following the beam of light that the flashlight casts ahead of them, Chizuru is the one who keeps glancing back. It's just so unsettling, those figures following them, especially since she herself doesn't recognize them. It almost makes them seem like they're being haunted by a bunch of people.

And whereas that sort of thing would have been bad enough out there in regular Trench, it feels infinitely more creepy and worrisome down here in these dark catacombs.

She's hesitant to speak up about it though. Especially at first. Chizuru figures that if Lys saw them as well, she would have started to speak up about them - and yet she isn't. She hasn't said a word about the figures. She hasn't even looked at them, despite the figures being there, clear as day.

After a while though? It gets to be a little too much for Chizuru to just pretend to ignore it as well. So after chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully, she says: ]

Um.. Have you also noticed..?

[ Not that someone could not notice this.

But Chizuru, as ever, is trying really hard to be nice about this by leaving the question open. It's a talent. ]

There's nothing down here but us.

[The flashlight's beam wavers slightly as her hand trembles, but she doesn't look back, doesn't miss a step. She wants to walk faster, to outrun the things she's laboring so mightily to ignore; breathing evenly through clenched teeth, she doesn't allow herself to. Beneath the toneless calm, she feels her emotions straining at their frayed leash and clamps down on them all the more violently. Breaking into a run, like hearing her own voice spiral up into the registers of anger and fear and agonized grief, would only make it all the harder to keep herself from falling apart completely.

Even accounting for their grotesque appearance, the parade of ghost-corpses bear more than a passing resemblance to Lys herself, from their black hair and fair skin to the tattered remains of their rustic-styled clothing. They follow after Lys and Chizuru with the smallest and shortest of their number out in front, as though to force every sidelong glance to see the whole group at once: a little boy no more than twelve; an older woman slightly bent over with age or perhaps long illness; a tall, graceful young man and woman, obviously twins; and bringing up the rear, a broad-shouldered mountain of a man whose stony expression rivaled the rock walls around them.]

Anything else is just shadows and imagination. So don't look at it.

[She hears (and smells) Mebh before she sees her, turning calmly in that direction only to reflexively tense when she spots the wolf. Her hand tightens around the hilt of her sword but doesn't draw it, her own Omen emerging from the ether to perch on her shoulder—blood and shadow swirling and coalescing into the shape of a small, white-throated, and delightfully round bird.]

No, they aren't mine. [A beat wherein she glances at the blood hound, noting with some unease the eerie grace with which the creature swivels their many-antlered head around to stare at all three of them.] I don't think they belong to anybody. I'm just...helping this one.

I think.

Helpin' it with what? Those weird bumps?

[Mebh's own sense of smell is usually fairly strong, but those blisters smell strongly enough of blood that it's making it difficult for her to follow any other scents. It might be easier for her if she were a wolf right now, but she'd have to go to sleep first.]

What are they, anyway? They smell like they've got blood in 'em.

Yeah, the weird bumps. I think they're called blood blisters.

[Her bird Omen chirps brightly, expressing consensus, then hops up her shoulder to nuzzle under her chin. She glances sideways at it, bemused, but obligingly takes her hand off her sword hilt and strokes the bird's tiny head with a fingertip.]

And they're full of dirty blood...or something. [A beat, wherein Lys privately reflects on how stupid she sounds. Alas.] The dog is gonna get rid of it.

[Whenever they finish staring at the new arrivals, that is.]

[She frowns, but she was already frowning, so the only real difference is that she stops pacing.]

I'm not being stubborn. I'm just no good at this kind of stuff.

[And yet, with reluctant obedience, she turns to the one stone tile she recognizes and points at it.]

That one's Bausphomette. I think.

[ Look at Lys, having come out here into the catacombs for the big 3G's - gatekeep, girlboss, and most importantly, gaslight.

Because even as Lys says that there's no one there but them, Chizuru isn't so sure about that. Regardless of whether the figures behind them are truly there or just hallucinations or ghosts of some sort, it still feels bad to her to just plainly ignore them, the way Lys seems to be trying to do.

Because Chizuru does realise by now that the other knows the figures are there too. It's only small signs that are coming from Lys, but Chizuru manages to pick up on them enough to know that this entire situation is affecting the other as well. She's got to know they're there, and she's got to be trying to really, really ignore them. ]

.. I don't think this is my imagination.

[ And while she hates to ruin that, since the other is putting so much effort into it, Chizuru just can't help it. Ignoring them and continuing to walk doesn't feel like the right thing to do in this situation.

Not that she's sure that she's right about that, but it's just what it feels like to her. ]

Have you looked at them? [ She pauses before asking that question, one Lys must not want to hear, but that Chizuru can't help but ask all the same. ] What do they look like to you..?

[He claps his hands.]

See? Already, we're making progress.

Baus...Baus is...January, February, March, April--May. May, that's the one.

[He picks up the tile, and slots it right into place where he figures is the May slot, and then turns to the other tiles.]

Alright, now...my patron. That's December, so Dorothea...where's the rabbit one...

[It is honestly unclear if he hasn't seen it or if he's deliberately pretending not to see it in an effort not to do this alone, because he's a jackass.]

[Her grip tightens convulsively around the flashlight again, this time hard enough to hurt. But as a distraction from the pressure building inside her head, the twinge of pain in her hand isn't half as effective as she'd like.]

I told you, there's nothing to look at. Geez...next you'll start hearing things that aren't there, either.

[Stubbornly, she continues to lead the way down the tunnel—but now with a new and entirely horrible feeling of guilt for putting Chizuru between herself and the "hallucinations". When, after another minute or two of walking, the tunnel's ceiling slopes down far enough to brush the top of her head, she automatically ducks to clear it, walking slightly bent over as though burdened by invisible weights. Her free hand reaches up and skims along the rough rock surface, both illuminated by the flashlight's beam as it flicks upward, then back to the ground, then upward again, alternating every few paces.]

Watch your head. Looks like the tunnel's getting narrower.

[Will they end up being forced to crawl? Ilse forbid, will it come to that?]

Smell? Like, ahhh . . . Moldy rocks?

[ or humidity and earth, or just simply dust and death down here— but, no, he hadn’t been scenting what lys has. his human nose was some ways behind in being tricked as they walked through what seemed to finally be an opening in contrast to so many cramped spaces. in one or two more steps, shōyō gasps, his eyes up ahead and going as wide as he can make them. ]

That’s—! Look! [ waves, a gentle breeze, the cry of gulls, the spray of ocean salt and foam— ] The beach!

[ Chizuru is thinking.

Sure, she's still walking. Still following the other. Still making sure that she doesn't hit her head on the ceiling as the walls around them almost seem to be slowly closing in on them, the tunnel getting more and more narrow.

But she's thinking as she's walking. She's pretty sure that she's right about her read on Lys. That the other can see the figures too, but - for whatever reason - chooses to not acknowledge them. Chizuru isn't sure of why, but.. she does remember advice she got upon arriving here. That these sort of things are best acknowledged, because otherwise they won't end. Maybe they'll be stuck forever in these catacombs until Lys agrees that there are people following them. The problem is that Chizuru has no idea how to get the other to do that.

Then she gets an idea. It feels.. a little cruel, Chizuru thinks. It's certainly not the sort of thing she'd ever do if it was just for her own sake.

But it's for Lys' sake, she tells herself. Even if it's harsh, it's for the better in the end, right..?

...

So Chizuru stops walking. ]

Miss Lys.

[ She pauses, as if she wants to make sure to catch the other's attention. To make sure Lys notices that Chizuru is no longer following her, though the figures sure are. ]

I'll.. stay behind here. If I'm seeing things that aren't there, then it's better for me to not be around you. I could be a danger to you. [ It feels borderline manipulative, and it makes Chizuru swallow, feeling a bit disgusted with herself.

But maybe it'll make Lys listen. Maybe it's the shove Lys needs to acknowledge that there is something going on here, so they can navigate it together. ]

Well, those things smell dirty.

[Mebh makes a gagging noise, and she's only half pretending to do so. There are a lot of those things around, so she can smell them everywhere.]

Can't we just get rid of 'em? [That...would be a very bad idea, but Mebh has yet to learn what happens to someone who comes into contact with the blisters.]

I wondered about that too, but...

[She trails off, studying the nearby blood blisters with a mixture of disgust and morbid fascination. They really do look like a rash, a plague, a fleshy crop of acne pustules almost ready to burst. They pulsate obscenely, gravid with their burden of blood, and she feels her stomach do a lazy flip.]

If that thing pops, it's gonna make one hell of a mess. I don't know how to get rid of it without letting that happen.

[Her nose wrinkles. In her weariness, she forgets that a normal human with a normal sense of smell wouldn't find a...not yet popped blister...quite so overwhelming.]

They really do smell bad, though. No argument there.

[Is it manipulative? Sure. But it's also effective, freezing Lys in place with the brutal swiftness of an entomologist's needle skewering an unwary insect. The skin of her back crinkles into gooseflesh, and for a heart-stopping instant, she can't seem to breathe at all.]

You...you want to what?!

[As though to mock how determinedly she's struggled up to now, her voice spirals helplessly into a sudden shout entirely against her own desperate will—a shout that echoes down the tunnel like the damp suck of wind which follows a fast subway train, pulling all pretense of self-control with it. Before the oppressive silence has a chance to crowd in again, her instincts say go before her rational brain can say no and she whirls around on her heel, eyes flashing in the reflected glow of the flashlight beam that comes to a shaky rest somewhere around Chizuru's knees.]

Don't say stupid crap! I'm not going to leave you down here!

[But underneath the hot indignation...a cold spike of fear. Her voice trembles slightly despite the force of her protest; her gaze flickers to the parade of "ghosts" before darting back to Chizuru's face. She's already dropped her free hand to the hilt of her sword again, clutching it in a white-knuckled grip.]

You're coming with me, and we're getting out of here, and...and everything's gonna be fine. So don't—don't start talking like that.

[If she'd been alone, she might have cried from sheer relief, gasping for breath between sobs as tears left wet tracks down her dust-streaked face. But instead she clamps down on the urge until the moment passes, suppressing the rising tide of emotion as though her life depended on it. Because Shōyō was here. He was here, and the guild tenets which were sometimes her only anchor left no room for doubt; crying in front of humans was unacceptable. It made you too memorable, marked you as vulnerable, opened you up to all sorts of unnecessary and uncomfortable questions.

So instead she scrubs a dirty hand against her equally dirty face, smiling shakily around her calloused fingers.]

Thank Ilse...I thought I was imagining things again. [What? Don't worry about that.] C'mon!

[She lightly touches his shoulder, automatically moving to take point down the tunnel. Being so much taller than him (not to mention faster, stronger, and vastly more expendable), she figures it's only appropriate that she put herself between him and any last-second risk. Part of the ceiling caving in, a sudden monster attack...something straightforward like that, surely.]

[ It's surprising. Chizuru did expect the other to react, but she didn't quite anticipate the sheer force of it. The emotion that comes along with it. After all.. some of that emotion has to be concern. About her.

And no matter how many times someone has shown concern for her, it's still a wild, wild thing to Chizuru. Every single time. Including now.

But she tries to remain steady, tries to speak on in the same tone of voice. ]

But.. you're saying that I'm seeing people that aren't there. [ At least that's factually true, and that makes her feel a little bit less bad about saying it. ] That must mean there is something wrong with me.

I don't care about that! You...y-you're just confused, that's all. I mean, we've been down here in the dark for so long, it only makes sense.

[Unwillingly, she steals another glance at the "ghosts", gaze skittering too quickly over achingly familiar faces. Forced to hunch over, bristling with an uneasy mix of fear and aggression, her wide blue eyes glinting in the darkness—she's never looked more like a cornered rat, a prey animal desperately trying to make themselves seem bigger and scarier than any threat.

Over Chizuru's shoulder, the "ghosts" continue their implacable advance. Inhaling sharply, Lys takes an abortive step forward, partly drawing her blade in the same motion, a hysterical edge climbing into her voice—]

A-Are you gonna make me carry you out of here?! 'Cause I will!

[She doesn't recognize the name—and absolutely couldn't spell it, don't ask her to, that's practically a hate crime—but shapes, figures, and anything else visual was much, much easier to process and recognize at a glance.]

Oh, I know that one!

[Perking up a little, happily oblivious to the possibility that mister clownboy over here might be playing his own kind of game, she quickly picks up the appropriate tile...then holds it out for him to take, rather than slotting it home herself. Blind trust, or simple laziness?]

Here.

[ surely, he shouldn't worry about that, and his jock pea brain wouldn't pick it up as a warning. they've spent, what— hours together down here in the dark? hardly knowing each other wasn't an obstacle to feel immense camaraderie, and once lys makes a break for it, oh he's coming. lord is he gathering all the energy left in him to bolt right after her and keep up. shoyo had to take some two to three extra strides to meet the lys', but that and his height be damned! he wanted to cross this imaginary finish line with her, and even if he was still a few steps behind: ]

I'm right next to you!

[ that also meant he'd share in the danger— the danger of them not actually getting any closer. had they fallen already, with spores so far up their brains they hadn't realized it yet? or maybe—

just as their senses seem to trick them, shoyo doesn't have time to dig his heels and reach for her collar, to pull her back— they both fall. ]

Why..?

[ That 'why' isn't in response to the other's question. Not at all. Because Chizuru knows why the other is saying that. Because she doesn't want to stay here with these figures. Because she wants to get out of here.

And Chizuru understands that, but at the same time-- ]

Why are you so afraid of them? [ Is it just because they're kind of scary? Chizuru could understand that, but Lys' reaction doesn't make sense if you follow that line of thought. The other didn't seem like the type to get this over the top scared at some random ghosts.

Not to Chizuru, anyway. ]

Please.. just explain to me, so we can figure it out together..! I want to help you, Lys..!

[ That's how you can tell she's serious. She just dropped the formality there with the use of her name. ]

[Her attention snaps back to Chizuru, head swiveling jerkily in her direction. In the reflected glow of the flashlight's beam, her gritted teeth are bared, narrow chest rising and falling rapidly as she takes short, quick breaths, almost hyperventilating.]

I-I'm not scared! There's nothing to be scared of!

[Her too-wide eyes blink furiously, chasing away a suspiciously liquid shine. Even more than the ghosts, she hates the warm prick of threatening tears, the hollow ache beneath her ribcage. A loss of composure was nothing but a weakness—a blurring of the senses that slowed her reactions in a fight, a distraction to everyone around her.

But you've already lost it. Why are you still trying to pretend otherwise, and so desperately?

So often, when the calm, cultured voice of Josephine Devereaux found reason to speak up—whether out loud or merely inside her own head—Lys was left scrambling to deflect well-aimed questions and comments. Not for the first time, she simply shakes her head, as though to stubbornly brush aside reality itself.]

They...whatever they are...they're not real. And they're not them.

[Anger joins the hysteria, layered hotly over a sudden rush of grief as black as the darkness around them, as fetid as the underground air they're forced to breathe—a grief violently exhumed from the very cellar of her soul.]

They've got no right to look like my family!

...You know you could've taken it over there yourself, right? [Kokichi deadpans. He takes it, and hovers over the November slot before correctly slotting it into December.]

What would you have done if you weren't locked in here with someone who knew their shit, huh? You would've died being a meathead.

[He huffs, picking up another tile.]

Right, Madame Generosity....where does she go...I mean, you're pretty giving on Valentines Day if you're not an incel or a loser, so maybe that's February. Oh, no, no, wait. Christmas is for giv--no, that's Dorothea. Hm. Hmmmmmmmmmm.

[He may be drawing this out. Just a tad.]

[ A part of Chizuru wants to bridge the gap between them so desperately. To reach out to Lys, to grab the other and hold onto her, to let her know that she isn't alone in this..

But on the other hand - the other is so emotional right now. Chizuru isn't afraid that Lys might hurt her, but at the same time she isn't sure if reaching out to the other might not make things worse.

Which is why they're standing like this. Chizuru still staring at the other, wide-eyed in the face of the reveal at the end there and the emotion on the other's face. ]

Your family..?

[ It would explain why these figures look so much like Lys. Chizuru doesn't think they're necessarily real either.. they're not Lys' actual family, that's for sure.

But on the other hand, she doesn't think they're here without reason then. ]

A-Are you saying these spirits that are following us around look like your family..?!

[She tries to snap out a real response, but the grief is like a fist in her throat; only a snarling, choked sob escapes, lips moving soundlessly as she mouths the shape of desperate denials. Wrenching her gaze back to the ghosts, she squares her shoulders and rushes toward them with rapid, lurching steps, sword drawn and raised with a sudden hiss of steel on leather—

And then she stops, frozen in place. She can't do it. Phantoms, imposters, hallucinations—whatever they were, they wore her family's faces.]

[Ouch?? It's like being trapped in a room with her guildmate, just with deadpan instead of ~~bougie~~ aristocratic snobbery. But that also includes the uncomfortable ring of truth, one that stung all the more deeply for being expressed so rudely. She winces a little, ducking her head but not her gaze.]

I didn't want to break it.

[Arms folding defensively, she watches him fiddle with the tiles, a prickle of unease layering over the embarrassment. What was he doing? Quick, time to ask a question to distract from feelings of doubt!]

...what's an incel?

[This is, perhaps, a mistake.]

You're not gonna break it, it's--

[He pauses and he has to stop himself from dropping the tile he's holding because his expression just changed on the spot.]

Oh, haven't you heard?

[No, Kokichi. She hasn't. He puts the tile into its proper slot and then explains...]

Y'know those guys who whine about never finding a girl nice enough for 'em, they're such 'nice guys'? Or the ones who obsess over girls - or, hell, guys - who will never give 'em the time of day? Involuntarily celibate. Crusty ugly virgins. Incels. Learn it, treasure it, teach it to your friends, there's a fuckton of 'em out in this multiverse I'm sure.

[Blinking, eyes wide, she recoils slightly, instinctively raising her arms slightly as though to block an attack. It's not the look on his face—unexpected and unnerving though it surely was—but the poisonous flood of words, the gruesome concept itself. Because honestly: what the fuck?]

N...no?? I don't know anyone like that! Who would be like that?

[A roach, a rat, a worm squirming in the dirt—those were just part of the ecosystem, organisms on the food chain. The sight of them have never made her feel dirty like this knowledge somehow does.]

More than you'd know! I've met a few myself! Disgusting, the lot of 'em!

[He slots another tile into place, chuckling to himself.]

The world is a deep dark scary place. And the people are some of the most scary in it. Even when they don't intend to be. Even when they're normal. Especially when they're normal. That usually means something's brewing deep down inside.

But hey. Where's the fun in life if you didn't get the chance to experience all that for yourself? Part of the journey is finding out.

I can't smell anythin' else with those things everywhere. Not even all these plants.

[Mebh would probably be happier about more plants being around if the blood blisters weren't here as well.]

...where'd all the plants come from, anyway?

The Moss King, I think.

[Having grown used to the rise and fall of their voices, the blood hound settles into its task of magically drawing out the polluted blood from the largest cluster of blisters. Curious a sight though it was, Lys tries not to stare openly, instead trying to watch both it and Mebh's wolf Omen out of the corner of her eye.]

Didn't you read the newsletter?

[ and now a word from our sponsor ]

For Ilse’s sake...they need help.

[Is there an undercurrent of disgust in her voice? Yes. But there's also pity, bewildered confusion, a compassionate if abstracted kind of secondhand embarrassment. Maybe incels aren't irredeemable! Maybe complex social and cultural factors drove them to develop such a toxic mindset! Or maybe they're just gross and entitled weirdos. Maybe all of the above. What does she know, she's only a lowly peasant from the middle ages who wishes this shit was being explained to her with slightly less...enthusiasm? Less like he's reveling in the chance to pass this kind of cursed knowledge on, much like a clown might revel in the chance to thwack someone with a rubber chicken.]

...you sure seem happy to talk about it. You don't think anyone can be really, honestly normal?

[ Chizuru's jaw drops when she notices the other charging like that. It looks like she wants to call out something, but then the other freezes before Chizuru can even let out the slightest sound.

So she doesn't let out any sound at all. Instead she runs up to the other, and though her heart pounds with nerves, she just wraps her arms around Lys, holding the other like that from behind.

It's a gesture that's halfway between stopping the other and trying to comfort her, though the hold isn't tight enough that Lys couldn't escape if she wanted to. ]

I.. It's okay! Even if they look like that, they're.. they're not real.

[ She can at least admit that. No matter how much they look like Lys' family, Chizuru doubts that the other's family would suddenly appear in weird otherworldly catacombs, let alone looking like this. ]

I just.. I just thought that maybe figuring out why they were appearing might be part of how we could find our way out...

Yep, most of the world does.

[He slots yet another tile in while checking what he's now clocked is a blood-based timer. How morbid and on-the-nose of you, Mossy. He hums.]

Nope. Nobody is normal. The most...I suppose you could call him the most 'normal in personality'...but anyway, the most 'normal' person I knew back home wasn't even a person. It was a robot. So. I don't think anyone can be normal, no. Everyone's got a little quirk. It's just finding out what that is that is the interesting part.

Why would I? I dunno what any of those scratches on it mean.

[Since Mebh can't read at all, she typically relies on any information she can pick up on the network, or around town whenever she goes there, for news on what's going on. Though that does mean there are still some things she'll inevitably miss out on.

It's at this point that she notices what the blood hound is doing, and she finds that much more interesting, falling silent for a moment as she watches it draw out the polluted blood.]

...how d'you think it does that?

...you can't read.

[She breathes it out like a sigh, visibly deflating a little as the realization dawns far too late. Considering her own background, it was a naïve assumption...and yet there had still been the vague hope that other kids had fared better, in that respect.]

Sorry. I didn't know.

[Biting back the rest, she shrugs, nodding at the blood hound and the tendrils of polluted, foul-smelling blood coalescing between their many antlers in a thickening cloud.]

...magic, I guess? It's always magic, seems like.

[The embrace should feel suffocating, confining—like one more wall closing in, one more weight pressing down to keep her entombed. Instead it's an anchor, something solid and warm that somehow keeps all of her broken pieces from flying away. So she doesn't try to struggle free as she stares down the trembling line of her sword, instead holding deathly still as she strains to see the ghosts clearly through a prism of tears...

...but confronted with those dead eyes, all her strength and determination and wounded fury simply slides away. Dropping both sword and flashlight, she crumples to the dusty ground, not caring about dragging Chizuru with her.]

—sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!

[More sound than fury, more howl than words, a desperate plea for forgiveness—from Chizuru, from the ghosts, from the universe itself. From the memories locked around her heart, warming it and choking her. Curling up, she clutches her head, gasping for breath between sobs and wretched apologies that repeat over and over and over again.]

Ah--!

[ She's definitely dragged right along with the other, down to the ground. It's mostly because Chizuru didn't see it coming, which makes it hard to put strength into her legs before it's already too late. Before she's already dropping right along the cold stone floor of the catacombs, right alongside Lys' curled up form.

Not that she has long to focus on the surprise and pain of suddenly falling like that. Chizuru's heart always takes the lead at moments like these, completely focusing on the nearest person who needs her help. Everything else can be forgotten, especially when pain like this heals nearly instantly. She knows the drop won't even leave a bruise behind on her skin, so rather than thinking about that, Chizuru instead shifts. She moves from the back hug, sliding across Lys to instead wrap the other up in a proper hug - or as well as she can, anyway, while the other is this curled up. ]

It's okay..

[ She repeats, even though she isn't sure it'll help. She already said as much before, after all.

But what else can she say in the face of Lys apologizing this desperately..? ]

.. it's really okay.. You didn't do anything wrong.

[ Maybe Lys did, in the past. Maybe these ghost-like beings remind her of that, and maybe that's why she's apologizing.

But the other has been so kind to her ever since they both showed up in this place that Chizuru refuses to even do as much as entertain that notion. Lys is a kind person.

Surely she can't have done anything wrong that she'd need to apologize this much for. No way. ]

[She's past hearing. Even if she wasn't sobbing violently enough to make her whole body tremble, her own ragged breathing is so loud as to blot out the world. The tears spill down her face and don't stop, the taste of them salty and bitter and caustic all at once. When was the last time she'd cried so hard? Not since leaving home. When was the last time she'd cried at all? Too long, too long, too long. She sits in shock, holding the body pressed against her own like a lifeline she had no chance of catching twice. Her throat feels too tight and yet too hollow, a crushing emptiness that fills her chest, and she clings to Chizuru all the harder to try and fill the void.

The ghosts say nothing. They only stare, blank-eyed and undead, standing over the two living girls like a monolith for an eternity of five minutes before crumbling to ash and disappearing. The sudden feeling of peace their absence leaves behind paradoxically doesn't make Lys calm down, but rather tense up even more out of helpless reaction—unable to immediately process what just happened, confused wheezing abruptly choking off her cries.]

[ The situation is a lot.

And that's saying something. Chizuru constantly dealt with situations that were a lot back home - a girl dragged into a war, despite not being a warrior, despite having been sheltered for most of her life. But even so, she's never had to do this. She never had to hold anyone while they sobbed as if their life was breaking down around them.

It breaks Chizuru's heart, and she does the only thing she feels like she can do in this moment. Drawing Lys even a little bit closer, as much as that's possible while the other has latched onto her so tightly. Trying to fully envelop Lys into her arms, as if to attempt to protect her from the entire world, from all the things that have upset the other girl enough for her to cry like this.

And without Lys saying anything, Chizuru also does not speak. She just holds her, minutes long, until the shapes around them suddenly disappear.

.. she's not too sure if that's a good or a bad thing, given this place, but it's very hard to focus on that and think about any possible reasons or consequences when she's got a crying girl in her arms to focus on.

She pats the other girl's back when Lys wheezes like that, like she's trying to keep the other from choking on her own breath, and then finally speaks.

Her own voice filling up the air almost sounds strange to her ears after the only thing that filled up the silence between them was Lys' sobs. ]

.. it's over. [ She softly says. ] It's okay, you can keep crying if you want to, or have to..

[ After all, Chizuru knows well that pain doesn't fade so easily, and it's why her hand is still trying to rub comforting circles into Lys' back. ]

But it's over now..

[The feeling of peace is so overwhelming that there's no resisting it for very long. Against her own will, she starts to breathe deep and clear and even, quietening down even as aftershocks ripple through her body; hands shaking, shoulders trembling, small twitches and shudders of helpless reaction. The grief and rage subside like the struggles of a chloroform victim, smothered into quiescence, and she swallows hard as the fist curled around her heart and throat slowly opens.]

...sorry.

[—murmured hoarsely, for Chizuru's ears alone. The tight embrace of her arms loosen but she doesn't pull away, content to hold and be held for a little while longer despite the cost of being so nakedly vulnerable. The thought of doing otherwise would be absurd enough to force a laugh out of her, if she could only muster the energy; what was the point in acting tough anymore? The complete and total breakdown has already happened. She'd cried in front of Chizuru as though there was no hope and nothing can ever erase that.]

You're right. It's over. [A deep, shuddering breath.] S'been over for a long time.

[She doesn't elaborate. There was no point in that, either.]

[ For a moment Chizuru does consider pulling away. Not for her own sake, because she's growing tired of this or any of the sort, but because Lys' grip loosens a little bit and Chizuru isn't sure if the other wishes to pull herself out of the hug entirely.

But when Lys doesn't do that, Chizuru herself seems more than content to keep holding the other for a moment longer as well, not seeming to complain in the slightest.

It's only when Lys speaks up that she finally voices words once more as well. ]

I get.. that you might not want to talk about it right now.

[ With how many tears Lys has spilled already, she must be emotionally exhausted. ]

But.. you know. If there's ever anything bothering you, or just something you're thinking a lot about and want to talk about.. You don't have to keep that to yourself, or hurt all by yourself. You can always talk to me.. [ Sure, they might not be Bosom Buddies. And Chizuru, on top of that, might not be entirely used to the concept of friendship.

But she fiercely believes in what she's saying here all the same, without hesitating or faltering. No one should have to be in this place by themselves, or keep everything to themself. ]

general log catch-all

kokichi ⁠— don't invite lys to games of scrabble

chizuru — can we still quote the sixth sense in 2022

no subject

mebh — pretend i had a really witty dog/wolf pun on hand for this

shoyo — it's like that movie The Descent, but not

no subject

no we can't

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject