[ closed ] Winter in September (October, November...) (dungeons + catchall)

[userunfriendly]

Who ❄ Michel and friends(?)
What ❄ area runs & overflow
When ❄ September and on
Where ❄ dungeons, assorted
Content Warnings ❄ kidnapping, captivity, suicidal ideation, self harm, TBA

⬣ Chasing Sunshine's Two Wings

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[userunfriendly]

[ Who hasn't been having trouble sleeping?, Michel wonders, with a little furrow of his brow. His mouth twists a little wryly at the thought.

He hadn't actually tried drinking to help before this. He doesn't dislike wine, but it's not particularly a hobby of his, either. It's just soothingly familiar... without hitting the overfamiliar resonance that reminds him all over again of how isolating and strange this place is. ]

Really... it's difficult to get comfortable anywhere here. Except, perhaps, for the supplies storage. [ He likes his little makeshift cot. ] There's so much bustle everywhere else.

[ He thought about constructing a house. But even there, he'd be too easy to find. Perhaps it would have to be a private guild, just for sleeping...

It wouldn't help at all with the nightmares. But it would be good to have another place to retreat to. ]

[insinning]

[Sinclair thinks his strategy of 'work himself to the ground' has been working these days but looking at these two...he wont mention it. They're injured and he doesn't want to encourage them to do anything that hurts]

...Moon Tree is fairly quiet, strangely enough. Maybe because it's so big...?

[Hm. Even with Uta's jukebox being set there, he rarely ran into anyone else, because they all had other guilds as their primary residences. The wine warms him within as he sips at it slowly, even as he's reminded that he doesn't particularly enjoy the taste of alcohol at all.]

[ophidie]

[Now that she, too, has used the supplies storage as refuge, at her most worthless-feeling in the wake of the battle with Skeith, she has to agree with Michel. There are some things Miharu can't bear to but on people like Emil and Haru, but maybe they'll still knew well enough, giving her somewhere to go like that.]

Is it? That explains how you were able to sneak out so easily before. [Hehe. She's keeping her dunks light, but this is definitely given with a bit of an elbowing edge. Emil's been working too hard to really take care of himself for a while.]

I think it would be hard for me to stay there. Almost everything we've lost left a void that we can't see behind, but it's Zelkova's guild, right? So... [The feeling of absence isn't something hidden behind ignorance when it's right in front of your face.]

[userunfriendly]

Sneaking out...?

[ Michel raises his eyebrows a little, a gesture rendered more dignified by the plastic cup of wine. ...Or perhaps not. He considers summoning his glasses from his inventory for the occasion, but that would most definitely be more ridiculous. ]

...That's true. I joined, but I haven't visited until lately. To hear the songs.

[ Which might make it feel more empty rather than less, come to think of it. He never had the chance to know Uta well. But it's a constant reminder of another loss, and now Hien's as well. ]

[insinning]

[ssshhh]

T-That was only once. Before we had the infirmary. [Sinclair pouts into his cup of wine, still nursing it slowly.

The jukebox had been a request to help others; Hien had cared enough to provide that comfort, even if he denied it until the very end. Sinclair had followed his own selfish whims in the end though - everyone could access the jukebox in Moon Tree. But it was Oria he wanted to provide the most support to in the end]

...yeah, I understand. It can be a bit strange, sometimes watching the guild carry on as if it wasn't missing anything, but...things keep seeming emptier these days.

[ophidie]

[Things might feel even emptier than normal, even, given that most of them are either staying in or spending more of their time in the infirmary. The world and its inhabitants are bleeding out now, running out of energy and out of time. If this goes on much longer, it's hard to tell what'll they'll have left to give.]

It's cruel, actually. [Miharu drinks a little more wine. The taste doesn't get better, but it gets more familiar and therefore easier to bear. She can see why this forms a reassuring habit for some.] I have things that I wouldn't if this hadn't happened. [Even just considering that her life begins and ends within Fragment, that holds true. She can only imagine it's the same taking into account whatever life she had before.] But they just exist in this bleak place. Should I feel grateful that I do?

[userunfriendly]

[ Michel almost smiles for that, humorless understanding. The human players hadn't been wrong in their arguments against Gorre: he extracted the data he desired from any situation, reading things in the worst possible light.

But that didn't imply there was no truth in it, either. It is cruel. Every facet of their situation is. He swirls the cup of wine — not an adult's refined, pretentious gesture to waft the aroma, but a childish fidgeting as he looks at the light refracting through the liquid. ]

...Since my memories returned, I find myself thinking the same. There isn't a single person in the world outside that I could speak to before this. Or... perhaps I should say, I would never have been willing to. [ Either way is most likely an embarrassing admission, but he doesn't seem to make any note of that. ] But this place, itself, is hell.

[insinning]

It's like...purgatory. [Sinclair's brow furrows a little, as he tries to place the almost unfamiliar term, a snippet taken from one of the novels Hien had created for him. His chest almost feels a little heavy with it. He sips a little more at his wine]

I don't remember anything beyond what the doors or the mirrors showed me...but the life I wrote about in my journal didn't seem very happy either.

"Even if they tried to convince me otherwise, I still think it's all my fault. If I hadn't been a child showing off, too slow to make a decision, Beatrice and my parents would still be here with me."

All my happiness was found here. And yet...

[Sinclair shakes his head; the guilt still weighs heavy in his chest, suffocating. More so now that he was aware he had a sin that he allowed to be erased from his mind so easily.]

I don't remember, and that makes it worse...I'm grateful for the people who made my life so warm. But the idea that we should be grateful for the pain it has inflicted on people just because it allowed me to meet you both...it's inhumane.

[What gratitude could arise from seeing his loved ones be hurt over and over, made to repent for something that wasn't their own choice? To repent for living, as simply as they could?]