⬣//SPREAD, CONTAMINATE, ERADICATE

[cccorp]

>>Famine // >>Death // >>War // >>Conquest

⬣//AN ILL OMEN

You've had a chance to adapt to your new circumstances and make peace with what your life has become… hopefully. If you haven't, don't expect life to get any easier.

A few things have changed in recent days. Healing no longer works as effectively as it did in the past. If you're in the habit of behaving recklessly, don't expect one of Fragment's few healers to pick up the slack. Broken bones will now remain broken no matter how many healing spells are cast on your shattered limbs. Damage to organs can't be repaired with the wave of a wand.

What's more, HP and SP restoring items have gotten harder and harder to come by. Potions are no longer available for purchase at generic NPC shops and gatherable items needed for crafting have become fewer and fewer in number, limiting your item making options. If you've gotten into the bad habit of injuring yourself heedless of the consequences, it's time to rethink your lifestyle. Playtime is over.

⬣//PAY IT NO MIND

Think of the three core memories that have formed and shaped the person you are today. Some will think back fondly on family and friends while others have been jaded by the ill treatment they've received from important figures in their lives. In any case, it's of little concern to you now. One of those three precious memories has vacated your mind, taking with it a vital piece of you that you can no longer get back.

You may choose one of the three key memories listed on your application to be taken away from your character. Choices are limited to the memories supplied in your application and additional memories submitted for the previous memshare event or not eligible for convenient plot-induced memory loss. Choose wisely, because you aren't getting it back.

⬣//GHOSTS AND GOBLINS

And Sky Fish, and Disco Knives, and Evil Armors…

Has anyone noticed the monsters around town lately? Which town, you may ask? The answer is all of them.

Monsters have invaded Root Towns in large waves, attacking anything and everything in sight. Any lovingly crafted signs or other furnishings you've erected around town are easily torn to shreds and destroyed by the monsters who have come to roost in your once safe Root Towns. On the plus side, PvE and PvP has now been enabled in all Root Towns, which is excellent news for those who wish to combat the monster invasion and those who can't seem to help hurting themselves and others.

These monsters range in level from 50 to 75, and while many of them can be defeated with a bit of ingenuity and teamwork, some of them boast impenetrable shields that no regular attacks or spells can break through. They are also immune to status/potion/armor effects.

When in doubt, turn to your fellow players for support. There may be some among you who know how to deal with these impossibly strong monsters, but there's no guarantee that they'll want to help you.

⬣//WHISPERS ON THE WIND

A lilting, boyish voice sings to you in your sleep. His voice sounds familiar to you, tickling your heart like a call from an old friend, but this is no friend of yours.

"You had every chance to abandon this world and return to your own. What stopped you? Was it ego? Hubris? In any case, it's too late for regrets now.

They say the world is what you make of it. Doesn't the same hold true for reality?"

The voice will periodically visit you and your sleep, but the moral of his message never changes: you did this to yourself. You were trapped here because you chose to look the other way. If anyone is to blame for the current situation, it's you and you alone, but there is a̸̬̲͔̘͈͚̠̫̘̬̗̖̋͑̉̓̿͛̈́̋͐̃̾̈̕̕ͅń̵̩̱̠̫̖̬̲̻͉̝̈́̀̀̚͜͜o̴͍͎̣͔̤̝̲͍̺̿̒t̴̨͚͓͍̜̮̥͊͑̿̈́̉̂̐͜͠͝h̷̨̨̦͕͖̙̞͙̗̗͎̬͛̂̾̋̅͜͜͝ȩ̸͎̭̙̜̯͎̯̳̮̘̲͒ȑ̸̡̧̢͓̠̦͙͇͍͎̭͑̈́̓̿̓̅̑̅̌͑̈́̕͝͝ ̴̧̼͕̟̬̰̞̮̗͔͈̬̙͍̈́̀w̵̗̖̩̘͇͖̲̩̫̣̗̙̲̌͜a̷̛͎͋͑̃͛̆̈̋̑̋͠y̴̡̬͕͈̗̫̯̟̯͊͐̌̀̐͑͘͝͝.

Another h̶̦̘̤̘͐͑̿̂̏̎͋͝o̴̧͖͚̖̜͓͂̏́͒̑̈́͝͝p̶̡͙̏̉̿̎̀̑́̈̆͌̉e̷̡̡̦̣̯̘̺͍̟̰͍̤͛̀́̚͝͠. Will you heed that voice and call to it?

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[ post 6.5 ]

[tylorific]

//I

[ Tylor flashes a smile when he brandishs just in time to save someone from a nasty hit. He seems cheerful about it, but fatigue mingles with his own determination. The feeling in his gut keeps him upright, the tiredness in his bones makes the hit towards him unavoidable. Gritting his teeth through the push that slides his heels back, the one he barely blocks with his Lord Partizan weapon. His school uniform is wrecked, skin peppered with marks from fighting too long. Too many. Level 75, still in his special set from level 50.

His efforts leave the monster open for attack, it's hard to sound playful while barely holding his own, but he manages it alright. He spares them abother genuine smile before he says it. ]

Hey there-- this guy's wiiide open!

//II

[ Everyone Tylor has met, he will seek out in time. Before the latch and after, no matter the memories that he's lost along the way. The people here are increasingly all he has left, it's a wonder he gets any sleep at all with the number of people he visits between rounds at the front line.

And yet, it's become even more increasingly common to find him napping in public spaces. He knows the streets and npcs of root towns. And the kitchen of every guild he is in. Anyone he sees, he greets. Anyone he knows he, he checks in on no matter what they're up to.

He'll carry favorite foods for those he knows, when he can find it, when he can make it or draw from his plentiful stores of in game food. He'd been hoarding from the beginning, without realizing how beneficial it might be later. A haphazard and lucky decision, allowing for curry, candied apples, cream puffs, baklava and drinks to be left with grunties and others guild rooms.

All while insisting that it's nothing, it's nothing. No more than any other friend would offer.

He isn't the lightest nor heaviest sleeper, so it is easy to sneak up on him. But he also might wake up, bleary eyed and blinking up with a slight squint. ]

Hm?

[ Listless and littered in bruises, he still smiles. ]

Oh, hi there. Is there another wave?

//III

[ feel free to wild card! He wanders so he can easily be most places!

Open to writing starters too. Plotting post is over
here. Discord (tinchel) is fastest! ]

[tylorific]

placeholder o/

II

[gluttoning]

[It's while Tylor's draped across a bench out in a public street, dozing, that he'll find a leather jacket draped across him. Misteaks doesn't mean to wake him up, so when Tylor stirs, the redhead halts slightly.]

...No. Not yet. [His eyes trace the bruising, his frown slight. He can't say much for it, given how rough he also looks. But it still softens his eyes considerably.]

...You should sleep somewhere safer, Tylor. A lot of people will be angry if you got killed out in the open like this.

[tylorific]

Mm. That's good.

[ Tylor relaxes back at the confirmation that they still have time, bench still not the most comfortable. There are winces as sore muscles protest. He blinks at the jacket, fingers idly running over it as he yawns. ]

Oh, you think so? Well, I guess it'd make sense to be mad at me.

[ He agrees to it all easily, wispy like half sleep, while tiredness steals any voiced concerns over his own lack of usefulness. Because this he can do. Even in a uniform that he doesnt recognize, his groggy gaze drifts to Bear. ]

Hey there, how are you doing?

[gluttoning]

[...

He lowers to a crouch next to the bench. There's worry here, that Tylor might just be burning himself out. But his tongue halts as always, unsure what to say. Unsure if he can say anything to help.]

...I don't know anymore, Tylor. I'm still standing. That has to be good enough right now, right?

...

Do you want people to be mad at you?

[There's a bit of a flinch as he asks, as though he instantly regrets what just came out of his mouth.

But he has to know.]

[tylorific]

Well, I don't think anyone wants people to be mad at them.

[ Tylor shifts again, so he can face Bear on the bench. It's a stiffer motion than normal, leather jacket falling to his lap as he reaches for Bear. An attempt to stroke his hair. ]

But, I guess if it meant keeping everyone safe I wouldn't mind.

[ A pause. ]

I'm not mad at you, you know.

[gluttoning]

[At many other times, he'd take the affection without reaction. An allowance without quite knowing how to return it.

But it settles somewhere in his chest, tight and desperate. A want to be understood that he can't quite get since the meeting, that Tylor somehow nails in one tired wisp of a sentence.

He doesn't look up, the shape of his horns framing his head between where Tylor's hand settles. But Barrett brings his own fingers up to rest against it, a gentle and almost unsure touch. Not sure what this is, but welcoming it regardless.]

Thank you. But... I don't understand why. Everyone else is. Even Morgan and Hani.

I don't think I mind. [If it keeps everyone safe.] But... I don't like how I feel.

[tylorific]

[ There is no surprise here. He wasn't at the meeting, but they both know he saw Hani's shoulder, heard about it all. It wasn't that he liked his friends being hurt.

But not all hurt is punches and broken skin. Tylor's hand turns to stroke the fingers that join it, encouraging them to stay. He wonders faintly if anyone had stopped to ask Bear-- ]

How do you feel?

[ Tylor asks it simply, without judgment. He leans over enough to draw his other hand to Bear too. Gentle comfort from scuffed up hands. ]

[gluttoning]

...

[His head stays tilted towards the ground. But the tension of his body can be seen where his expression cannot - a bristling, uncomfortable and irritated.]

Angry.

I feel so... so angry. Confused. I don't know how to make people understand.

[tylorific]

I see. That can be pretty hard. I never like being angry either.

[ Not that anyone here has ever truly seen him angry, not really. His touch lingers, trailing the tension where he can see and reach it with his freer hand. ]

So tell me, then. [ Tylor says it simply. ] What do you want everyone to understand?

i//

[insinning]

[That's all Sinclair needs, really. He charges in, in his special crafted armor (level 75) and drives his lance into the monster's heart, ending it]

Got it-!

[tylorific]

[ The monster's push against Tylor weakens as its heart is plunged through, just the window for him to side step its fall. ]

Nice job, chef!

[ Because it's just them, and Tylor squats to scavenge while he can, the brief moment between the rumble of enemies. But he winces and drops to his knees instead. It's subtle, the shift, but Tylor still glances to smile up at Sinclair. ]

Say, doesn't it feel like there's more of them lately? I wonder why.

[insinning]

[ Sinclair who keeps watching with worry, doesn't tear his gaze away. He reaches out, gently steadying Tylor by the shoulders]

We're getting tired. We can't keep fighting like this.

[tylorific]

Oh, I'm sure it'll be alright.

[ Tylor says it, reaching to rest a hand over Sinclair's. A closed chain of steadying, friendly touch from hand to shoulder; smile to worry. ]

Let's take breaks when we can, alright?

[insinning]

Yeah, but...

[Sinclair's brow furrows a little further, but he nods, letting Justy's calm wash over him]

...we still need to be careful. We don't have many healers at all.

[tylorific]

Oh. You're right!

[ Said like he genuinely just noticed. ]

Then we should treat them well for all their hard work too. And don't worry so much [ Hand pat, knuckles bruised. ] We're still in one piece, aren't we?

[insinning]

[Sinclair will just take that hand then, still frowning, still fretting]

And we should make sure we don't put them through so much that they get burnt out healing us all the time.

[tylorific]

Well, thats true.

[ A squeeze, tone still effortlessly light even when there is warm sincerity there-- ]

But have you been taking care of yourself too, Em? Stress isn't good for you.

Huh, I wonder if we can still get wrinkles?

ii; sneaking-ish

[userunfriendly]

[ Michel is the one who suggested abandoning the root towns entirely. He's still tempted to. But as long as no one else has, he can't quite keep to his resolve to stay out.

He passes by Tylor's dozing body and keeps moving. That perennial irresponsibility. "Things will work out the way they're supposed to." Maybe they're all supposed to be trapped here, unraveling at the seams just like this. Maybe...

He doesn't make it more than a few steps before he doubles back with a sigh. Anxious despite himself, he kneels down to check that he really is just sleeping. Not hurt, not... worse. ]

How is someone so clever such an idiot...

[ It's grumbled under his breath, hopefully too quiet to wake Tylor. Although if the words don't, the contact might. In the real world, Michel is well aware he would be too frail to attempt this. But here, he can try to lift the dozing Tylor outright to haul him to a guild. ]

[tylorific]

[ Tylor doesn't wake at the grumble or the movement. He isn't injured, not really. But it's hard to miss the scrapes and bruises. Completely relaxed, without the persistent upwards curve of his mouth for once, Tylor truly looks his age. Twenty tears old and peaceful, as if sleeping at home in a warm bed without a worry in the world.

His first response to being lifted, dead weight and still breathing softly, is to snuggle in on instinct. However Michel carries him, Tylor is a rag doll. He doesn't move away even when he blinks his eyes open and audibly yawns.

Far too cheery for being mumbled into wherever Michel's got his head positioned right now-- ]

Oh, hey there. I've never woken up in the arms of such a handsome guy.

[userunfriendly]

[ Probably somewhere near his shoulder, for the sake of Michel's sanity. Although it was at least a momentary temptation to throw Tylor over his shoulder like a bag of flour and let him repine the bruises on his stomach later. ]

If that's a flirtation, know that I won't hesitate to sell you out to Hani.

[ A joke on at least two levels, all things considered. Michel even bears with the snuggling with nothing but a long-suffering sigh.

Tylor has always (only just) escaped the radius of what he thinks of as child-aged. But right now, Michel most decidedly feels older. ]

[tylorific]

[ Tylor's laugh is more of a tired huff of amusement right into his shoulder. Michel could carry him almost anywhere and Tylor wouldn't protest. Even if he had the energy for it. ]

You're not my type.

[ He jokingly deadpans back. Then he sing songs, softer as he goes on-- ]

Besides, we love each other so much we can flirt with anyone we want.

[userunfriendly]

[ Michel snorts quietly; unseen, his expression softens a tiny bit. There's something about hearing his own sense of humor echoed back at him. ]

Do you still want to? When you love each other so much.

[ It's more curiosity than judgemental. He can't say he fully understands either of them, but he trusts that they understand each other.

He walks right past the WINKs guild, refusing to perceive it, and heads for GLHF. ]

[tylorific]

Mm. Well, I guess not. But it can be fun sometimes.

[ Still mumbling, still holding on to Michel like Hani does to him so often. From some friends here, he's learned an obvious truth-- ]

It's funny, people think I'm flirting with them all the time.

[userunfriendly]

You compliment people too readily. Most people only do that when they want something in return... so, people assume the obvious.

[ Except for him, since he's never really believed someone would flirt with him intentionally.

There's something strangely soothing about being held onto like this. It's like his head feels a little clearer, given a task to focus on. Even if the task is as mundane as finding the first sleeping-equipped room in GLHF to drop Tylor onto a futon in. ]