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⬣//A Mirage, Exposed - 11/12
Who: █████████
What: Deception, revelation.
When: 11/12
Where: Root Town Of Unknown Origin
Warnings: Death, violence, others to be added as needed.
Overnight, the Root Town without a name explodes into a cacophony of noise. There’s a rhythmic one-two-three of hammers, but looking for the source proves to be fruitless, as if something - someone? - is hiding the construction site from view. The noise lasts for hours, and so the sense of foreboding only seems to grow stronger and stronger. It’s the third week, so by now it might be natural to wonder.
Is this going to be where we meet yet another advancement of the Wave?
Eventually, the noise stops. The islands go quiet beyond the whistling wind that never stops. Minutes pass, hours pass, and then there’s a scream.
Finding the source of the scream isn’t all that difficult - at the end of a rickety bridge there’s a pale, crumpled shape on the ground. Gray hair, ivory robes, ghostly skin that’s even paler than usual - the only color is the bright red blood that covers his face and stains his robes.
Owen is dead.
A bloody trail can be followed across the bridge, to a large amphitheater that wasn’t there the day before. Rows of seating lead down to a raised stage covered by curved arches holding up a roof large enough to keep the stage dry and hide lights and the mechanisms for the curtain. A deep blue curtain hangs, closed and hiding the stage from view. An orchestra pit sits in front of the stage, seats empty.
Someone stands in front of the curtains, a scythe in hand. Their blue cloak and hair almost blend into the curtain, but the dull, yellow eyes are unmistakable.
It’s strange, isn’t it? How long has it been since you’ve seen Anaido…?
What: Deception, revelation.
When: 11/12
Where: Root Town Of Unknown Origin
Warnings: Death, violence, others to be added as needed.
Overnight, the Root Town without a name explodes into a cacophony of noise. There’s a rhythmic one-two-three of hammers, but looking for the source proves to be fruitless, as if something - someone? - is hiding the construction site from view. The noise lasts for hours, and so the sense of foreboding only seems to grow stronger and stronger. It’s the third week, so by now it might be natural to wonder.
Is this going to be where we meet yet another advancement of the Wave?
Eventually, the noise stops. The islands go quiet beyond the whistling wind that never stops. Minutes pass, hours pass, and then there’s a scream.
Finding the source of the scream isn’t all that difficult - at the end of a rickety bridge there’s a pale, crumpled shape on the ground. Gray hair, ivory robes, ghostly skin that’s even paler than usual - the only color is the bright red blood that covers his face and stains his robes.
Owen is dead.
A bloody trail can be followed across the bridge, to a large amphitheater that wasn’t there the day before. Rows of seating lead down to a raised stage covered by curved arches holding up a roof large enough to keep the stage dry and hide lights and the mechanisms for the curtain. A deep blue curtain hangs, closed and hiding the stage from view. An orchestra pit sits in front of the stage, seats empty.
Someone stands in front of the curtains, a scythe in hand. Their blue cloak and hair almost blend into the curtain, but the dull, yellow eyes are unmistakable.
It’s strange, isn’t it? How long has it been since you’ve seen Anaido…?
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In the shuffle of moving stage props around he'd sheathed his sword. Now he unequips it completely. Honestly, given how often he's stabbed friends rather than enemies... it might be best to leave it that way. His approach is quiet and awkward, like most things Michel does. ]
Owen knowingly opened the door to some of his worst memories and bought me time to find myself. I want to do something in return. But I am not... someone who is adept at picking up on these things.
[ Are you sure you aren't cruelty, Innis? Putting this incredibly clumsy man through hard mode difficulty right away? ]
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[How does it feel to have a boss monster laugh at you…]
You don’t say? That comes as a surprise to all of us, I’m sure.
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Sarcasm... is stretching it a bit, as a form of deception.
[ Just, gently putting that out there. ]
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[Just a casual, friendly(??) conversation…]
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[ Casual conversation. With a little awkward truth sprinkled in there. Michel sighs a little. ]
...I don't desire a stage set for an execution. But is it any less false like this? Is it enough to trade one mask for another?
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[Stop answering questions with more questions, Innis!!]
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...I may not be the best reference for this.
[ Sincerely. He pauses again. ]
...Everyone wears masks of some form. What I want to know is which Owen wanted. [ No, that's not quite it either... ] ...Which ones. It isn't necessary to have only one.
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You want to know what lie Owen told the most?
[Because that's what it feels like he's asking!]
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No. [ A pause. ] Or, perhaps that's the same thing. What lies were the shape of who he wanted to be, to become.
[ That's how all people work, he thinks. You create the lie and then you set out to fulfill it. A dream is a lie, from another angle. ]
wizard jumpscare
[But, hey, Innis is down to talk lies.]
cw suicidal ideation, dysphoria, disordered eating
He’s wanted to be dead, to be a man, a woman, to waste away until there’s nothing less because that might be the best for him - the list is endless, but what was his favorite? It’s hard to say, but all humans will end up dead, anyways. A yearning that can actually be met, so perhaps you should put your sword to better use?
KYAAA
more cw suicidal ideation
[ And he does not doubt that at times it may be. It's not only Owen's mercurial nature. People have all kinds of contradictory things they desire, don't they? Michel sighs quietly. ]But not by my hand. Not by choice. I remember Gorre's data vividly. It may well be that continuing to exist is a cruelty of its own... But I believe that if he was here, his other wishes still outweigh the one. And I would still want to hear it from Owen, directly.
[ Not secondhand through an avatar of deception and whatever distortions are most convenient to Innis, thank you. ]