10/29 --- Δ Haggard Traveler’s Reprieve?????

[gluttoning]

Who: ??? & you!
What: Something's starting...
Where: Δ Haggard Traveler’s Reprieve (Twilight Shoreline)
When: Sunday, 10/29
Warnings: Will be added as needed.

( Perhaps intrigued by the mail allegedly sent by CC Corp, perhaps visiting the Shoreline by chance, gating into the Area goes as it always does, until the music stays cut for longer than it should, and the black, liminal transition screen lingers for a little too long. The seconds tick on. They near turn to minutes. You can't struggle, you can't argue— you can only simply be, and it occurs to you that maybe you'll be trapped midway here, conscious, for maybe forever.

And then you hear static. Your vision warps; pixels strain into words, blurred and unstable. You see them combat for your attention; you see— )



( And then you load in. )

( POST NAVIGATION )
( Sign-in Comment (Mandatory) • How to Play • Mechanics

Phase 1 • Round 1 • Round 2 • Round 3 • Round 4 • Round 5 • Round 6

Phase 2 • Round 7 • Round 8 • Round 9 • Round 10 •
Round 11 • Round 12

Epilogue )

Comments

cw alcohol dependency mention

[secondthoughts]

(flavor for nik)

[ The drain is bright, exhilarating. Hector feels it having an effect, swirling intent and white-hot fury filling him with an intensity he's never felt before, not with the regular monsters. The sweets and the rot are visceral in his nostrils, the noise of cracking and the incomprehensible blips of data assault his ears. But nestled between the layers of cacophony is

something else.

It's a voice, friendly, familiar. Whispers of scenes long past.

I found you. Heheh.
It's cool to get to know you a little better. You have a lot of love when you talk.
I think Demet knows for you, too. Wherever she is.
I'm so glad you're actually still here.
...Just don't punish yourself.

Misteaks is so, so precious to Hector.

But there's something else he used to call him, something more familiar, closer. But like most things as of late, it sits uncomfortably on the tip of his tongue, just in the edges of the shadows of his memory. And it frustrates him that he can't remember. It's strange, because he feels this closeness with him but would never call him a friend. It's more...familial than that.

Hector always thought that if he ever had a son, he'd want him to be like Misteaks.

Call it selfishness, but he wants that boy back. He wants that cheerful, kindhearted kid to be a part of this weird little group again. He misses their talks, he misses hanging out with him. He misses finding out what he's up to, what his plans are.

Fuck Tarvos. Fuck Lily for taking his bright future away from him.

And Hector will be damned if they can't reverse this somehow.

His head spins, his ears ring. Hector lifts his head from the sickly sweet sand and is immediately hit by the hunger. The dread, the anxiety that gnaws away at him in turn feels so nauseatingly familiar, in a way, yet again, that he cannot place.

It's a good thing he has bad habits to combat this so deeply ingrained into him already. He instinctively reaches for the bottle of red wine in his inventory and swiftly brings the bottle to his lips. As the red liquid empties into his mouth, the anxiety eases, and an emptiness all too familiar sinks in. Who cares if it's a status effect? As far as Hector's concerned, the wine is working as intended.

He staggers to his feet and tosses the bottle aside. ]

We're not losing to Lily's joke of a plan.

[ And he throws his other hand up into the air for Data Drain Type H: All, giving everyone a little extra juice. Hopefully. ]