![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
⬣//ILLNESS BEYOND CONTAINMENT, DEATH WITHOUT LIMIT
You wake to the sound of silence— no early morning birdsong, no rustling leaves, not even the sound of your own breathing reaches your ears. For a single moment, you feel as if time has frozen, your mind held in stasis, until a familiar boyish lilt hits your ears. A beat later and he's standing before you, a smile stretching from cheek to cheek, but that smile doesn't quite reach his eyes.
"Good morning, sleepyhead! I was wondering when you'd wake up. Are you well? Does anything hurt?
Mm, not that it makes much difference to me. If you're in pain, know that it's only temporary. If you're unhappy, you won't stay that way forever. This world is a world of miracles, one where everything that hurts you can be forgotten and destroyed!
Ah, but some of you don't believe me when I say that. Some of you still think the world that's hurt you oh so much is better than one where you can make all that pain go away. Don't you want to be happy? Why are humans so addicted to their own suffering?
I think it's time to find out!"
The boy vanishes before you can get a word in edgewise. Try to reach out and touch him and your hand will pass straight through. You now have, at least, a solid idea of what Lily looks like. It's only a shame that there is little you can do to stop him.
On the same day Lily made his presence known to all of Fragment, another equally sweet young boy has mysteriously vanished.
In the monster-laden streets of Mac Anu, shreds of bloodied white fabric can be found scattered about. A single golden horn can be found in the canal, roughly shorn and badly scuffed.
It's unclear who or what injured Zelkova, but no matter where you search or how hard you try to find him, no further clues will turn up.
When attempting to message Zelkova, who appears online as he always does, you'll always receive the same response—
"Hi! I'm Zelkova!"
In the wake of Zelkova's absence is a feeling of unease. You may feel anxious, scared, perhaps even angry over the perpetual downturn of events. In fact, you'll find that it's gotten very difficult to manage your own emotions.
Throughout the next two weeks, you'll steadily get more and more emotional. Small inconveniences will throw you into a rage. Stubbing your toe will make you lapse into hysterics. A smile from a friend may fill your heart with longing and your loins with lust.
No matter how you might try to quell the tempest of emotion inside of you, nothing seems to work. Every feeling is magnified, every feeling is intense, and all you can do is allow yourself to be taken by emotion.
It's a shame Zelkova isn't here to assure you that everything will be fine, just fine. Fine, fine, fine…
You may hear stirrings amongst the NPCs in various Root Towns that something unusual is occurring at Twilight Shoreline. Some claim that the sky itself has been ripped and torn while others make mention of an unusual figure lingering in the waves.
It may be tempting to gate in and investigate these unusual rumors yourself, but be warned: you may not leave in the same condition you arrived.
Do you remember what it was like to be a real human being? To have a life, a purpose, a meaning outside of the digital world? That must be nice. Memories are such lovely, precious things.
Unfortunately, what little remains to you will be taken away with the loss of your third and final core memory. Several other memories from your time in the outside world will disappear as the days roll by, slowly but surely erasing who you were and making room for who you have become: a swordsman, an adventurer, a catgirl, a being who has never known anything beyond the boundaries of Fragment.
Still, some pieces of your old identity remain, desperately clinging onto your old concept of self. Those with the drive to escape Fragment and return to the real world will still feel that flame burning deep within even if they no longer remember what sparked it. Not all hope is lost, but the worst has yet to come.
A foul wind blows, billowing through Root Towns and Recreational Areas alike. On the wind, you hear the whispers of forgotten memories, both your own and those of the people trapped with you. Though you may no longer recognize those memories as your own or those of your friends, you can't help but feel as if some part of you has been clawed out and torn to shreds. It's a sad, lonely, isolating feeling, b̵͓̘͎͍̅̄͛́ú̷̹͕̒̀͝t̴̟̥̮͖̗̆̃̾͋̋̎̄̉͐̋͆̇̕͘ ̴̢̥̬̼͚̰̬̰͍̥͉̝̦͕̥̰̎̈́̃̅͆̉̈́̀̏̏̇̀͜í̵̧̧̥͓͇̠̗̤̺̖̼̬̪́̓̐̽̿̽͗͜t̴̨̲͎̼̦̱̪̬̭͖̓̾̈̄̈́̒̎͆̇̕͠ ̸̢̣̰͈̝͈̫̦͉͕̋͂̐͗̓̽́̈͛̃͑̓̚͜͝ẁ̷̙͛̍̑̈́̅͂͊̓̽̈̌̋͘͝ó̷̢̮̟͙̹̤̭̬̬̰͓̣͑͆̂̈́̎͂̒̌̊̽͘̚̚͜͠͠ņ̵̢̛̦̖̆͆͂̽̑̊'̷̢̮̫͚̜̭̰̙̭͚͓̭͙̺͑͜ţ̸̛̛̘͚̘̯̲̖̰̝̖͙̥͊̉̑̄̽̀̆̎̈́̅͘͜͝ ̶̩́̈̈́̌͑̿̆̾̈́͊̀̈́͘̚͝͝l̴̲͕̩̊́a̶̫̪̽̒̌̀̑̍̿̕s̶̱͉̩̣̒͆̽͗̽̊͂̚̕͠͝t̸̢̧̨̹̬̹͈̣̮͈̣͚̰̳̲̤͌͗̊͗̎͂̎͗̏̆̀̀͑̽̑̿͠ ̴̩̺͕̳̝̘̳̣͎͚̰̇̈́̈́͑͐̈̈̏̀͂̈́̍̽̑ͅf̷̛̙̖̲́͒͐̏̒̿̆͆̑̎͐̄̉o̷̱̭̙͗̌͆͗́̆̌́͗̚͘ȓ̷̡̢̦̠̖̟̻̬͚͈͔̥͓̟̤̋̿̃̎̌͗̂̽̐͛͆͠e̵̼̻͓̺̖͓̞̘̤͎̤͓͚͔͚͔̓̈́͘v̵̡̖̳̗̼͉̻͓̗̠̝̭͍̆͒ͅê̷̱̄̀ͅr̴̤̠̜̞͉̘̙̠̙̩̣̫̮̘͖͉̿͋̈͊̓̓͜.̷͓̯̒͐̏̋̓͗̄̉̓̎̒̾̚͝͝ͅ ̸͖̘̞̼͓͚̝̘̙͓͔̱̗͍̏̑̐̔̋̉͂̈̿̆͂̋̋̈S̵̢̫̭̠̩̻̩̈́̔̅̾͛͛̌̃̑͐̈̕͝o̵̡͖̙̘̟͕̗̲̒͋̇̿̔̍͒̈́̏͑͆̉̀͒́̕̕ö̸̜́̽̈́̀̆̐̂̉̔́̅̔̆ň̵̛̥͍̘͕̫̝͔̼̮̝̤̎̀̉̔̍̊͜,̸̨̛͇͙̺̱͎͙͖͎́̈̈̀̂͜͝ ̵̩̯̯̟̂̒͊̌̆̆y̵̢̜̘̘͗͂̎̓͒̿͑̇̆̉̋͘͠͠o̷̢̨̜̹̣̗̤͍͇̅́ŭ̷̞̇̈̑̂͊͂̓͋̅̌͐͘'̴̡̨̡̰̘̠͉͈̥̓͜l̴̡̡̰̖͙͕̹̹̝̖͉̓̿l̸̢̧̞̜̻̝͈̙̫̈́̒̈́̐̀̄̿̈́̀̄̚͘͘̕͜ ̵̛̗̗̙̩̙̝̩̟͎̗͉̠̉̋̒́̐̐̀̄̃̐́̎͒̕͝b̵̨̡̢͖̺̼͔͓̬̟̭͕̈̈̓̒̓͌ȩ̷̥̟̳̲̝̩̝̱͎̲͆̔̕͜͠ ̷̧͈̠͈͓͉̭͔̪͕͖̫͇̼̩͓̣̔̆̈́̋̓́̂̉̔̎͂̒̈́͂͂̈́̚ḥ̷̛͍͇͈̼̺̣̦͕̪̹̘̝̅̂̌͗̾̋͌̈́̾̂͠͝͝a̶̢̛̝͔͚̠̻̗̞̿̊̆͒̐̅̉͗͒̉͘̕͠ͅp̵̓̍̾̓͊̌̑̈͋̾͒͜͝p̶̳͎͙̹̎͆̿͠ͅy̸̨̧̡̩͚̯̪͕̽̓̅̀̇̕͜.̷͍͙̹̓͛͐̀͐́͝ ̷̺̼͖̔͐̏̈̾̈́̆̿̅͝͠͠Y̷̢̛͗̀͛o̵̢͖͖͈̙͒̄̆̉̀̆͌̉͜u̵̫̩͓͖̲̝͔̲̎̏̐̈̓̚͘'̵̡̨̻͍̲͚͔̤̼̬̪̠́͌́́̒̕͠l̷̫͔̜̍͆̍͋̔͆͒̾̑͑̐͒̈l̴̡̩̳̟̩͕̗̠͗̓̆̚͝ ̶̯͈͕̜̤̗͚̙̗̝͒̃̎́̒̂̔͑́͊̈́̓͒͌̅͝k̶͕̬̳̰̝̮͈͉̰͊́̃͘͜ṋ̵̎̃͛̾̃͐̂̔̿̔͐̓̍ő̴̫͔̐̂͑͛͋̈́̂̈́̈̚ẅ̵̛̮̪̝̖̰͖́̃̇̃̇̅̓̇̕̚͠ ̴̢̫͕̻̜͇̝̺̣̟̥̥͉̖̗̱̙̇͑͆̿̓͑̕ņ̷̨̢̩̳̱̝̩͖̼̰̩͙̫͆̄͐ơ̶̢̧̢̡̰̜̰̞̭͓̹͔̲̱̄͋̄͐̆̏́͗̏̀͂̓͗͋͊͘ ̷̘͈̰͖̰͂͛͌̑̿̀͗͑́̽̊͂̒̚͝ͅp̸̯̤̀̄̀a̵͇̖̖̹͗͑̈͐̉̽͂̚͝ḭ̴̫̫͚̻̥̮̲̫͈̹̮̞̲̘̩̪̄͐͐̄̈́̒͌̇̇̽̓̆͗̒͝n̷͓̥̬̠͔̗̯̬͈̪̞̪̗̘̩̲̭͗̏.̷͙̹̥̗̼̉̽̆̈́͘̕͠͝ ̸̞͔̱͙̑̄̈́̂̔̎̃̓̐̚H̷̨̲̗̲͙̗̱̠̗̹͔̥̦̋͒̈́̆͑̚͜á̵̧̛̛̟͎͈̲̼̣̊̆̇̐͆̌͒̀̚͠ͅp̶͎̠̫͖̗͋͑̏͑͛̈́̏͋̈̇͘p̸͈̟̦̠̮͚̫̥̅̍̐̏͆̂̀̒̇̂́͌̐́̕i̵̡̡̘͔͍̭̱̜̯̞͎̬͈̗̎̀̈͒̆̀̓̈͜͝n̵̜̑̃̔͠e̴̡̢̦̩͙͚̦̥͎̩̰̓̈́̿̎̔͌s̸̥͓̱̗͙̥̺͖̥͉̱̹̟̀́̀̆̑͂̌͜ͅś̵͚̮̝̤̭̘͎͔̝͔̤͙̤̮͓̘̒͋̂͗̍̓̔ ̵̦͖̩̠͉̹̘͎̮͓͙̙̣̜̘͋͊̏͊̋̊̈̓́͆̌̚͝c̷̨͕͕͕̖͉̹͔͎̦̠̱̍ǎ̷̫̬̪̘̠͔͍͍̹̞͉̈́̃̓̊͆͘͠ń̸̢͆͒̀̀͂̊̆̚̕̕ ̶̙̺͇̬̼̪̩̮͗͌̍̈̀̀͝b̸̡̺̞̳̗̳̙̗̯̠̦̼̻̭̑͗̋̔͒̀̾̅̄̊̾̾͘e̴̢̢̘̜̟̯͎̜̭̞̼͚̟̾́̓͊̊̃̄͌̃̓͆̽̕ͅ ̵͔̝̖̖͚̓͂f̷̡̛̝̳͎̼̼̱̪͈͙̣͖͙̘̞̺̮̉͑͘͝͝ő̷̧̹̦͓̰̦̯̝̣̱̲̠̩̟̺́̋̅́͒̈̏͘͝u̸͍͍͇̟̲̟̟̺̓̌̍͑͒͌́̌̽̐͊̚̚͝n̴͓̺͕̜͚̲͍͍̰̙̖̘̪͓̙̘͇̍͑͛͊͂̄̾̿̍͋͊̂̈́̕͝d̴̺̟̞̙͍͓̪͈͋̓̇͌̚͜ͅ ̵̛̮̯̪̤̫͖̠͔̫̥̬̰͈͍͚̇̀͗̐͗̈̚͝͝͝ę̶̡̦̜͙͔̜̩̽̇̀v̵̢̡̗̥̬͉͍̱̲̻̘̝̮́̅̍̈́͑̌̏̚̕ͅͅͅë̶̝̳̤́͋̈͗͋̍̊̽͋̕͝n̵̪͓̠͖̫̫̩̻͚͍̬̤͆͗͊̉̾̌͐̾͑̑̍̈́̕ͅ ̷̙͍͓̂̔̓̃̄̚͝i̵̧̨̮͕̱͓͕̦͇̲̹̋̐̈́̆͜ͅn̷̝͈͇̹͚̝̏̄ ̴͇̪̬̈́̏͗̃̄͌̐̊͝ͅd̵͔̖̠͈̮̃̍͗̀̋͛͗̈́̏͂̇̇̕ę̴̪̟̰͍̱̘͇̼̻̤͎̇͊̐ą̷̧̪̭̖̣̖͎̪͌̒̐̄̑͊̐͑̕t̵̡̧̡̯̬̗̞̰̪͇͉͎͍̝̰̄̓͌̈́͆̿̔͐̇̈́h̷̥̖͔̆͑͊͛͂͠.̵̛̹̃̒́̋̾̒̔̓̒͛͆̓̃̕͠
no subject
I think, once, I loved him. Like a family member. I wanted him to be safe. To learn and be kind.
But it's different now. He's still my brother. But... he loves someone else more than he will ever love me.
no subject
It does sting a little, though, that Tarvos remembers his history with Lily, but not with him. )
... You're still frustrated. You still love him, don't you? It hurts. Does it make you want to hurt someone? Does it make you want revenge?
no subject
[Because it's what Lily wanted of him. Because it's what the void of emotion left in him demands, only offset by knowing that wiping clean the slate of the world would leave nothing left for paradise.
His jaw sets, twisting his staff into the moistened sand between his feet where he stays crouched. Watching the ground suck and give way under the force.]
I know I can't hurt the ones he loves. And I don't want to hurt him.
But part of that me that used to be... it hates that I tried and still wasn't good enough.
no subject
... Then we feel the same.
( Which part? It's obvious to Macha, but Tarvos can guess.
Regardless. )
Would it make you feel better if you could hurt me?
no subject
I don't know.
I don't want to fight you. Your aggression is bright. But it doesn't last.
Did you feel better, trying to hurt me?
no subject
... No.
( ... )
But I did feel better when you decided to stay.
( Even if it hurts, too. )
no subject
Unfair. Cruel, almost. But it was still effective.]
...
You "made" Hien love you.
Why didn't you try with me?
[The pang of jealousy is slight, brought only by the forcefully heightened emotions of their surroundings. He feels this isn't right. He shouldn't be jealous over a stranger. This isn't correct data.
And yet... he looks at the veil, the eyes, the blood, the chasm of his chest, and he feels... odd. Dissonant. The breeze of canals and the smell of destroyed flowers. The warmth of hands and the sting of words. The sour feeling comes so naturally.
Why?]
no subject
But the question is legitimate. Why didn't he? It wasn't because he knew Tarvos is like him. He'd just harvested data from him and simply weighted it less. So, why?
He's quiet. )
... Maybe... it felt like admitting there was no way for you to love me anymore. And there isn't. ( He reinforces this before Tarvos even needs to. ) But I don't want to accept that.
( It's a very human way of putting it, and, in some way, Macha is a very human operation. Charm is a way to invoke sentiment by force, but the best way to draw out affection is through authenticity of emotion - and so he functions like this.
But maybe, also, in some faint way, what dwindling sense of self remains is drawn to what they had before. He doesn't need to keep their promise now that Tarvos doesn't even know it, and yet... )
... Accepting that just means I've given up. And I don't want to give up on you yet.
no subject
[His face hardens in irritation, glance staying firm at the ocean.]
If you were stubborn like this about other things... maybe I wouldn't look at you and wonder who is going to get angry enough to kill you in your apathy and make your love mean nothing.
Maybe it will be yourself.
[He doesn't like it. There's distaste, almost familiar in his tone.
A pause.
...]
Your anger burns bright with your love. You could do a lot with that, for paradise.
[He rises back to his feet, sand and water both slowly travelling down the rippled length of his legs in slow waves. Dark eyes narrow towards Macha.]
If I stayed here... If I watched you, protected you...
Would you show me the vengeance of your scorned love?
Would you watch mine?
no subject
Tarvos is not the Barrett he knew, and maybe Barrett and those memories would not return. But maybe there is meaning in their meeting again; however futile; however useless; however badly it stings. )
... I will.
( For the first time in a long time, a smile like he'd worn at the carnival curls his lips, one that he doesn't know is really there. )
And whoever tries to oppose your vengeance, I'll line them up for your guillotine.
no subject
His smile is not kind, when it comes. There's something unsteady behind the excitement. But the thrill to satiate his rage grows so high, he could almost be elated were it not for how contradictory it rang in his chest.]
Then I'll stay, Macha.
Seek your love. I'll seek my revenge in their footsteps.