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⬣//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.̵̛̹̃̒́̋̾̒̔̓̒͛͆̓̃̕͠
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Shoot.
[Why does this feel like the leadup to getting dumped? Maybe this is the start of the conversation Fai'd urged him to have with Hector. The conversation where they establish firmer boundaries. The conversation where they make it official: no matter what happens, we have to forget these feelings we share.
Yael looks Hector square in the eye and waits. Let him have it.]
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With a sigh, he scrubs his hand down his face. Where to even begin...? A lot, a lot has happened since that little "mistake" he made in Naval Monte so many weeks ago. They'd been fine skirting around the issue up until then, but that one little incident seems to have turned their whole relationship on its head. And Fai is right: he wants them to be friends, and so does Hector. He trusts Yael with...his life, really. Cutting him off is the wrong choice. But to untangle all this...?
His eyes slowly draw up to meet Yael's, and he decides to just get straight to the meat (heh) of the matter. ]
I love you.
[ He blinks, and immediately regrets taking this angle. ]
—Which I mean to say is, I shouldn't. Not that I want to hate you, or anything. But— [ He scrubs his hand over his face again, trying to sort out his thoughts, because this is turning out to be more difficult than he expected. ] —when I thought you were dead, that's all I could think in my head. And I knew it was wrong. And I was upset for...other reasons, I guess.
[ Reasons he's since forgotten. With another sigh, he sits back in his chair and drops his hand to his lap. The cat at his feet takes this as an invitation and leaps up to settle on him. ]
I'm glad you're back, but...I can't keep doing this.
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...They don't matter anymore, do they? Yael's mind has been made up. His heart belongs to Fai and only Fai, and whatever bits of it remain in Hector's hands are bits Yael will have to steal back from him.
Hector can't keep doing this, and neither can Yael. His eyes slip closed, the silence rings in his ears. Yael understands what kind of man Hector is and knows there's only one right choice to be made here. Yael knows the other man better than he'd like to, and that's why—]
I don't love you, Hector. I love Fai.
[God, it hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. With any luck, Hector won't hear the lie.]
So get over it. Move on. If you can't do that without ignoring me, then block me everywhere you can and don't show your face around me. You can't have it both ways.
[And Hector can't reconcile his feelings with Yael still around, can he?]
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But he won't say it, because it isn't the point. Not for Yael's pride, or for the relationship he rightfully belongs to. ]
I know, I know— [ In frustration, he combs a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. ] I'm not asking you to change your relationship with Fai, or with me, for that matter. Just—
[ He huffs again. Despite how much Hector likes to think he's hard to read, he really isn't. He's doing his best here, trying to keep his temper at bay, knowing full well Yael has way more sway over him than he likes to admit. ]
Can you just work with me here? I tried that, and we saw how that turned out. [ Gay baby jail for the both of them. ] I know it'll fade with time, but I also don't want to lose your friendship in the meanwhile. We need...boundaries.
[ Those are definitely Fai's words, but Hector owns them when he says them. And he says it firmly, almost like a threat. Because he knows that Yael will hear them, too, and understand that he's got Fai on speed dial if he makes problems. ]
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Yael sighs, his restless fingers toying with the kitten in his lap. It has enough of his anxious petting and hops off, leaving him with nothing to focus on but the conversation. As it should be. He can't run away from it. Neither of them can.]
Right. Friends.
[Yael has never been the type to keep friends. Maybe it's alright to have one, just one, and for Hector to be that one.]
What kind of boundaries do you propose? [Rrgh. He's no good at conversations like these.] If it helps, I won't touch you. No hugs, or... things like that. And you can stop staring at my ass.
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[ Their first interaction was Hector ogling his ass, wasn't it? Long ago, at a party... What were they celebrating? He can't remember.
The more important thing, though, is the flush on his cheeks as his eyes dart away in embarrassment, as he laughs. It's funny in hindsight. He wouldn't dare do that now. ...God, he really is a mess, isn't he? That isn't why they ended up in this mess, but.
He brushes his hair back again, recomposing himself, and turns to look at Yael again. ]
No touching. No flirting. [ It's weird to think about how much of a default flirting is for Hector. To be fully sincere around Yael is...a weird thought? And a rare treat for Yael. ] And you need to promise me that you will put Fai, and only Fai, first in everything. I never want to hear about you picking me first in anything.
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Yael, bereft of kitten, crosses his arms over his chest and listens to Hector's terms. All reasonable asks, of course... but his expression pinches when he's told— no, ordered to put Fai first.
Like he needs another reminder. Yael juts out his tongue and blows and big fat raspberry in Hector's general direction.]
You better plan on following your own rules too. Don't cry when I hold the door open for Fai and not for you.
[That said...]
...I promise. I'm not letting him out of my sight again. That means I plan on staying by his side too, no matter what happens.
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[ He ignores the raspberry. The words settle uncomfortably in Hector's chest, but he decides that's for the best. They belong together, and from the start, he never wanted to come between them. He wasn't supposed to feel like this anyway, and now as he sits here, surrounded by cats, trying to pick up the mess...
His eyes dart down to the kitty in his lap, eyes closed in comfort. With a finger he begins to scratch at its little chin, and he can feel it purring. Cute.
A little feeling of comfort as he puts his next words together, putting stakes in the line they've drawn in the sand. ]
...When I went to see Fai after I learned you were gone, he said... [ God. What was it? He'll have to paraphrase. ] "My love wasn't strong enough to make him stay." And all I could think was...
[ That he went looking for Hector, right? Which means—
He shakes his head, cutting that thought off. He thought it once and it unraveled him completely. He's only just barely begun to put himself back together, and he can't afford to do that again. Not now.
His eyes draw up, meeting Yael's tired and pained. ]
Don't ever do anything for me ever again.
[ He can manage on his own, somehow. ]
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Yael, for his part, cracks a wry smile. He gets it. It's necessary that they put distance between themselves. It's only a shame they made so many mistakes along the way.
In an act of charity, Yael capitulates with a simple nod. He won't argue back. Won't tell Hector to stop being so dramatic with the all-or-nothing statements. It's a nice thought, severing the cord in one fell swoop, but that's not how it works. Reality is rarely so simple.]
Agreed, under one condition.
[Lifts a single fingie into the air. One condition.]
Don't go and get yourself killed. Stick your neck out too far and I'll have no choice. I won't let you die.
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He scarcely reacts when Yael holds up his finger, and he waits patiently. Only when he hears the condition does a corner of his mouth quirk upward in a wry, halfhearted smile. ]
What the hell. What makes you think I'm going to die?
[ Very silly thought. ]
You're better off looking after one another, you and Fai. I can take care of myself. Don't worry about me.
[ He gives a dismissive little wave. He's at an advantage here, what with his little medical knowledge and being one of the few Harvest Clerics. Very little out there can kill him. ]
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[He can all but hear the death rattling in Hector's throat. It's the kind of feeling that makes the hairs on the back of Yael's nape stand on end. This man can't be trusted with his own life, and so he won't be. Not by Yael.]
Don't get me wrong: if it came down to choosing your life or Fai's, I wouldn't hesitate to choose him, but that's not what we're talking about.
[Yael's smile falls. His eyes narrow, their edges sharp.]
Wave it off like it's nothing, but I know what you are. I've known from the start.
[Advantage, his ass. Content he'll get the last word between them, Yael carefully shoos away the cats lingering at his feet before pulling upright and heading for the door. Over his shoulder, a dismissive little wave.]
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He doesn't plan on dying. Not actively. But if it came down to it...he would be willing to do whatever it takes to keep these people safe, and to break them out of this cursed wave.
Whatever it takes.
So for a moment, he just watches Yael leave. He doesn't bother to call after him, or argue. Instead, he leans onto the table, crosses his arms over it, and rest his chin on his arms. The light in his eyes fade as they unfocus, and he goes still.
He's got stuff to do, but...he also has a lot to think about. ]