spirestar

[spirestar]

Quit the board, sure. Will's left games before but not for lack of trying. When a mystery is unfair, is made cruelly, is overtaken by witches who only want to stake him like a vampire with their fingernails or dangle helpless pieces over utter doom so he'll swoop in and save them only for the process to repeat again and again and again... Yeah. He leaves. There's only so much he can do.

He seeks out the Heart and reveals it when he must, has defended many with everything that he is once he finally saw that mysteries are nothing without it, but some people don't want help. He's sent in to cut truth from fiction. When someone needs their fiction more than life itself--They don't want to be Seen. They want to live somewhere that cannot exist and Will won't tear that apart. Not anymore. Before the way he viewed the world changed, he killed witches for much less. It's not something he's proud of, but that's the way it is. He won't make the same mistakes again. But he can't keep anyone else from taking the job once he's tried to close it out peacefully. Even Dlanor won't let every case he abandons stay cold and closed up.

"Maybe something's changed in it," he replies quietly, accepting Shadow's suspicion with a small, kind smile. "Dlanor keeps tabs on boards I've marked as closed cases. She trusts my judgement but that doesn't mean that the higher ups do." His smile goes wry then--He can almost picture the way Shadow might want to blast through this game to close it properly.

The witch running it has a very obvious weak spot, the source of all her sadness and anger centered around a specific experience that echoes in every closed room. She hasn't made any puzzles or set traps for a reader or piece. She doesn't want anyone to solve anything. She wants to keep fixing the same problem over and over to feel control, to feel like it isn't her fault.

"When I retired, it was after even more years of me refusing to handle things the way they wanted. According to their rules and their beliefs about the point of our work. I met the witch in this world and I made her a promise. She's never called to collect on it--SSVD probably just wants someone to finally go in and do what I didn't." To tear it apart and kill the witch. Everyone has their own choices to make and he gave one to the girl hiding in her old childhood storybook. When she's ready to be done, he'll 'kill' her. Maybe he should've checked in on her sooner, but he did get half-erased and then lose an arm for a while... "It's why Dlanor sent you here." Now Will is sure. Dlanor knows the exact reason he didn't finish off the case and she wants Shadow to hear it from him before entering the story. "Kind of like another little test for you, Shadow. To see if you can see the Heart, too. If my notes seem off, you'll want to look for yourself, right?"

"Detective? Hmph." Shadow knows what Will means by it and the weight that title holds in the world of witches, but 'detective' feels like such an insignificant way to put it. "I am the Ultimate Lifeform." A mere fact. And he finally flicks his eyes down to the closed room case Will handed over to him a moment ago.

For a while he's quiet, red eyes simply scanning the pages. The sound of paper being turned over. Silence again. Then he looks back up. "I'm meant to go fill in because you quit this game board." Shadow's voice tilts a little cagey, distrustful of Will suddenly. "But you've been retired for years." Not that time ever flows as it should in the Sea or across Fragments. "...Why would they call me in now?" Again, as the Ultimate Lifeform, Shadow is quite selective of contracts he enters into, his power letting him defy so many of the rules and expected conventions of the mystery genre. What good is a locked room with the key locked inside and no other entrances and exits when faced with Chaos Blast?

But a witch being abandoned can occasionally be synonymous with cruelty / and a chessboard stalemate even worse, according to Lady Lambdadelta and Lady Bernkastel. Will, who abandoned his post for the sake of heart and meaning...could he have abandoned a person too?

[spirestar]

"What, you think she'll get up and stomp you?" Julie squints at him, irritable and swaying with the bump of their shoulder, then drops one of her elbows into her other palm. She points a finger at Verso accusingly even as she starts to give a small, sad sort of smile. "Merde--That's all the more reason for me to be there, don't you think? I've pulled you out of worse binds." Sort of! Search and Rescue hasn't been a disaster but they've had incredibly close scrapes. It has to count for something when it's all they've got. The only time they've had to see the things they have and know each other. Before the Fracture, Verso Dessendre was just one of those names she saw displayed under massive paintings. A person but not one she had any reason to consider beyond the canvas and frame. Funny. She flicks her pointed finger at his shoulder harder than she needs to.

Some of the stonework of the Monolith shifts in her periphery and that's the only reason Julie stops trying to stare Verso down a bit--The Paintress moves only slightly, not enough to be spied from afar, but this close... As a former sculptor, Julie can see the quality of the form and shape. She seems real like she might be breathing, living and crying silently. They don't know enough about the Monolith for Julie to feel guilty for finding the thing beautiful despite the fact it stands as gargantuan evidence of their lives being changed forever. It's the same kind of wonder that's shone in her eyes many times over since leaving home, when they're all standing together on mountaintops or watching land shrink and shrink as they move further and further into the broken apart and unknown landscape ahead, each stop an environment entirely different from the last. It's crossed her face each time the unnamed sea around them is clear enough to see reflections in and that one time around the start of their mission when Verso actually knew how to fix the split in the leather sole of her only comfortable boots. You just don't seem like you'd--! I don't know! You act so spoiled sometimes!

"My brother knows this is important," Julie doesn't drag her eyes away from the Monolith until the moving stone shudders one more time, the Paintress (because to her, that's what the thing is) hugging her knees tighter, and then she exhales softly and tilts her head to look at Verso instead because what else can she do? Of course she misses her brother. He's a whole year older and they've made it this far. It's not the same, she wants to say, but now she'd be the one being unfair. Instead: "Florian knows I left to make sure other families would be together like ours will be when I'm home." So why shouldn't that include yours? She's pointedly ignoring the fact that the very stragglers they're talking about could very well be his own sister and mother. Maybe by the time the rest of Search and Rescue return from the Monolith, they'll already have the missing Dessendres put up in a new house, along with any others they manage to get home safely. It's a romantic sort of thought. One that she won't try to comfort herself with. It's the kind of pill she won't swallow before she's lost the argument--And Julie doesn't want to think about it happening without Verso there to see it. "You won't have to miss me if I swap places with someone else."

"Julie, it's been almost a year." The Monolith towers before them in all its strange beauty, eclipsed only by shrouding midnight clouds that curl somewhere at the top of the spire. "We can't keep going on in such a huge group; at this point there's a real possibility that there might be groups of people who have been helped by, I don't know, a wandering group of gestrals or something, and they are trying to make their way back to Lumiere. If we send everyone off to the Monolith, we risk missing those stragglers." Their eyes flash back to the large slab that breaks the heavens and the figure curled at the bottom. Verso's voice turns teasing: "Besides, the Paintress's huge. What if we all get smashed underfoot or something? It would be nice that, in the event that we should fail, there will still be some survivors who will be able to tell the city council that Search and Rescue wasn't just a colossal waste of time." He knocks his shoulder gently against hers, trying to elicit an annoyed laugh or an eye roll from her.

"You know why Renoir and I can't go back." Now his voice drops to a measured space somewhere above a whisper. Somewhere in the bundle of sleeping bags and tents his father is sleeping soundly but he's always been easy to wake and Verso's not about to invite him into the conversation, this is one that should only be had by him and his...his Julie. Their-whatever-Julie-is. "We still have to find Maman and Clea. You--your brother...he probably misses you, Julie." Verso smiles a wincing thing that pinches the side of their face along with a sort of distended shrug. "I know I would." And he will miss having her to talk to on watches that go by blank and boring, and he will miss watching the way Julie's braid gets disheveled at the end of every 24 hours. But as a brother who doesn't know where his sister is...it's a special kind of hurt that he knows Julie's brother feels too, even if the source is different. "I'm glad your family didn't get separated when the Fracture happened, but...it's been a year, so--it's more or less the same thing at this point, isn't it. You have the opportunity to be with your family again. You should take it."

[spirestar]

"You never gave me one," Monoco answers firmly and taps his staff against the ground once. He likes to joke too but not about this. He won't play into Verso's self-flagellation more than he has to and he knows what Verso wants more than anything. Understands it. Knows how much it hurts to lose the purpose you thought was yours. It's how Monoco and so many of the paintings of Verso and Clea's childhood felt when the Canvas went unvisited but stayed awake. The world still turning. There's a reason Monoco traveled on his own and with Noco when he could since even before the Fracture. "Why would I have two trains."

This is the answer to Verso's idea of playing favorites. "You should be sorry. Maybe if you gave me something I'd have a reason to carry it around." Maybe. Because he's still frustrated and does consider whacking Verso's upper arm with the bell dangling from his staff but Verso looks like he might be hitting himself over the head with a big hammer in his mind so. Yeah. Monoco doesn't bother. He won't let Verso get away with it and he won't say it's okay, either. But in his own way, Monoco knows he's soft-hearted. "Dodging out of the way and letting a stalact get me doesn't count either."

@heartinhands : i don't want you to keep verso's stuff. (verso for monoco. sorry i had to have him be a bitch just once)

Monoco cannot blink. He was given a field of vision to see from, but no eyelashes or drawstring-like lids. He was made to be a tireless and peerless friend. This world was first made for fun. For adventure. These are the things Monoco understands. Sometimes he feels entirely unprepared for conversations like this. Other times--

"So. What." Monoco knows already that he keeps very little for himself. He's never needed much. Just Nevron pieces to show off his abilities and a good bag to carry them in. He's run across the canvas with this Verso for years and years, for a longer stint of consecutive time than he ever had with the Verso who painted each rock and stone, who set trains to crawl around the surface before the Fracture destroyed them along with so much else that he loved. "You went through my stuff?"

A better point: Verso has crossed a line if this is true. If he knows about the small tank engine toy that sinks to the bottom of Monoco's giant backpack. Not an unforgivable line--Monoco isn't sure that there is one of those for Verso, because he understands both of the boys who became Verso much better than he ever lets on--but one that he won't ignore being pushed. Defensively: "I don't have to do anything I don't want to." This is a cold, hard fact. No matter how he is painted, Monoco will do as he pleases. Yes, he feels a loyalty to Verso that is bigger than himself. It makes him happy to travel together. Getting into trouble is the most fun with Verso, not without him. But Monoco is a good friend, not a yes-man. He fights for things. Noco comes to mind and again Monoco cannot blink the thought away. He cannot aim a disbelieving stare and blink at Verso.

He can only stand with his arms crossed and wait for an answer. It's not like Verso ever asks very much of him (because he never needed to in this world at first, and now everything is so very different). He can listen to an explanation.

[spirestar]

headcanon post for my version of julie from clair obscur: expedition 33! spoilers for the entire game / late game reveals beneath the cut.

before the fracture, julie worked as a stonemason in construction and sculptor in lumière, and lived with her elderly mother and younger brother. she apprenticed from a young age in the career and has a good eye for industrial and artistic stonework, as well as a passion for architecture in general. she also worked in the shipyards for some time, before being employed full-time, to learn more about navigation and the world, always hoping to travel when she was older.

sculpting was more of a hobby for julie than part of her day job. she kept her work to herself mostly and preferred creating more abstract, non-representational structures to juxtapose with her equal passion for rigid shape and design in helping to build and improve the city itself on the clock.

depending on rp partner hc & scenario, julie may have met the dessendres before the fracture: if she did, she did so while assisting in the rebuild of the dessendre mansion and only interacted with (painted) renoir in regards to project updates. any other dessendres that she met would have been either on-site or in passing. if she did not meet them before the fracture, she still worked on the project but had no interactions with the family due to aline's intentions to protect the family and keep their home a perfect, safe place--part of why the concept of the entire building crew was originally painted in the first place after aline took over the canvas, to keep lumière in shape and kept-up for the dessendres.

also depending on rp partner: if julie met any of the dessendres before the fracture, her relationship with verso can exist before in different ways. mainly, if they met before, they were friendly enough and julie expressed a respect for the family's works she'd seen on display in the city, (with verso's being the most often shown due to aline). if they became actual friends before, they were able to talk only at the artist salóns that the family attended and that julie started going to after being invited due to her divulging her sculpture hobby to verso at some point. if they did not know each other pre-fracture, julie did not attend these other than a single party the building crew was invited to for the mansion rebuild's unveiling. she meets renoir and verso in this version of events during the early days of preparations for expedition 00.

when the fracture destroyed old lumière, julie and her brother (who was 10 at the time) were out on the streets to see the ground crack open and the sky explode. they were able to meet up with others and eventually find their mother. afterward, when it seemed the dust would never settle, julie immediately volunteered for search and rescue as it was organized. physically capable and good at working with a team, (her interest in the world at large hadn't entirely been snuffed out, either) so she knew she'd be perfect for it.

her brother and mother stayed in the city and her mother eventually gommaged and it's unknown in what year exactly; sometime before expeditions were started in earnest. her brother lived to eventually join his own expedition before gommaging. of course, julie never knows any of that happened :-)

expedition 00 lasted at least nearly a year if not up to 1.5-2 years for julie in my general version of her, but i'm happy to go off rp partner hc if you imagine something different <:D

in my julie's version of events, toward the very end of the search and rescue journey, the expedition finds a way to get some resources back to lumière and decides to send a small contingent--including julie's team from her note--to return to the city while the rest of the search and rescue team continue to the monolith. julie is against being sent back but is convinced. how so can be discussed depending on rp partner; my main idea is that she is worried about her brother and is convinced by the logic that while she is incredibly useful to search and rescue, she can also help the city rebuild. a double-edged sword situation. it doesn't hurt that it's likely verso doing the attempt at convincing her, and the two have obviously come to care for each other by that time. which leads to...

my headcanons for julie's relationship with verso. i don't think they really get together in any capacity before the fracture in her general verse. once again this is something i'd like to plot if anyone wants to write with her, but it's fun to imagine them being forced to get to know each other and work together during a time that is so harsh and strange for everyone. it also makes the ending sadder since they are, respectively, one of the only people the other person has that they're very close to at the time (and verso has to contend with the humanity of other people after being on the canvas with mainly only his family for so much of his existence).

(once again can change depending on partner hc, just how i'll have her general events occur otherwise) after the halves of expedition 00 split up, julie and her team stop at spots nearer to the new broken off piece of lumière to gather supplies and return home. when they do, they give the limited updates they can about the world to the people of the city and throw themselves into helping however they can--waiting for the day the rest of search and rescue return so they can all be sent back out once the city is more stable. to find answers and search for more survivors and scavenge more for their home. when verso and renoir return without the rest of the expedition, they are beaten and worn and there is distrust, but julie knows them both. she doesn't want to doubt them. this is the only reason she ever agrees to go back out with them in her party. they've all been through enough and losing everyone they cared for and looked after and worked with after everything is gut-wrenching.

then. well. the rest is all in the game. i personally don't think that julie and her team tortured verso immensely when they captured him and i don't think she suggested the scenario as an option very quickly. she put a good amount of thought and trust on the line first. verso continued to lie to her and renoir refused to speak to her once he learned of her questions and assertions, which made her take matters into her own hands. julie writes her note pretty close in time to the actual kidnapping and she knows after verso escapes them that he will probably try and kill them if he really had been lying. and she was right in part.

important note: there's some debate whether julie was part of expedition 00 or a separate search and rescue which i created my lore for to allow for both in one to allow for more interactions and to explain why julie can travel freely still after the search and rescue technically fails and expeditions don't begin for many more years. search and rescue was clearly deemed dangerous after expedition 00, so lumière didn't want to send as many people out afterward. julie, however, and her team had survived and returned early, not quite making the "expedition" but still holding onto important information and truths. this meant that her team was still approved to go out on the continent when others were being cautioned against it. if julie is not part of expedition 00 for a thread, then i will be setting the events of her journal 1-2 years after verso and renoir return to lumière. i will default to the lore i created above unless otherwise requested.

my thoughts on julie being repainted...i'll have to write them up at a later date, but she'd be mad if she was brought back as her actual self...i'll consider the rest hehe: if aline ever repainted julie (least likely turn of events), i think she'd be much like the version of herself that existed before the fracture, more focused on her skills while also being made to aid the dessendres after such a personal death at verso's hand. i don't think aline would bring her back to be vindictive necessarily, but to essentially find a good use for another piece of the canvas that she controls. julie would probably not really be a person as much as a toy soldier that gets turned back into chroma as needed. i can't see clea or renoir repainting julie obviously, they wouldn't benefit from it. maelle might offer to do it for verso by the events of act 3, but it's pretty unlikely he'd agree. i don't really like how horrific the maelle ending is written and i think if maelle ever repainted the canvas for her own enjoyment later in life, julie specifically would only be repainted if many people from her own era of lumière were repainted there as well, and she'd only see verso again if he was also painted in again. i think if maelle repainted them on her own canvas, though, that it wouldn't be a mean-spirited thing. she'd just do it because she wants verso to have his chance at being happy. whether they'd ever be close again is up to plotting, but julie would be surprised to say the least since she'd have the memories of her death intact. it's one of the few things maelle knows about her after all......

i'll update this post some more if i think of any :D thank you for reading!!

[spirestar]

@heartinhands says, "You are...here," their hand trailing across the crudely drawn map everyone's been contributing to as they travel through the barren remains of the Continent, marking the path from their camp to: "Now there is no place to go but home."

"I don't like it," is the answer Verso gets in return. Julie misses Lumière, she does. The city with its newly twisted tower, her little brother who begged her not to leave, the people pulled from the rubble who trying to make it home again while she's off scrambling through mud based on the hope things can ever go back to the way they were. It's a hope that's hard not to lose--But friends help. That's what they've all had to become through this, if not anything more. To survive the upending of the world as it always has been. "It's not an even split and you still might need more of us."

Their camp's fire has long died now and most have gone to sleep. They need the rest desperately for their respective journeys. More than 3/4 of Search & Rescue will go forward to the Monolith, that massive collection of debris and stone and titanic sculpture. The small remainder will go home: That's what she's talking about. Julie's brow furrows and even in the dark, her amber eyes are bright as firefly glow. Like the sap that used to trap little skeletons in it, now, hopefully, it's Verso she can catch where he stands.

"Think about it. They've gone on without us this far in the city. You can't ask us to--" She shakes her head once and her overgrown bangs / Julie used to always wear her hair loose over her shoulders back when she could still complain about spilling pen ink on her hands and the calluses on her palms from carving designs into stones at work and climbing to watch sunsets on rooftops with friends -- instead of now, where her hands are rough from knife pommels and ropes and scaling actual cliff faces and dry from sea water and constantly being held over a fire at night to stay warm / begin to slip from the small clips she's wedged them under, her braid--it's too dangerous to wear her hair down all the time anyway so she settles for this--askew from the quick bit of sleep she caught before her watch. One that she knew would be with Verso and one that she knew she'd spend disagreeing with him. "You can't ask me to do that." It's unfair is what it is. "You know it's not right."

[spirestar]

Ada is not easily stirred out of character and his familiar smile shifting like sand to something new and sharp isn't enough to do it. Still--It's curious isn't it. He's different but it's still in there, that hungover and bright-eyed guy who so badly wanted to save her even after being betrayed. It's stupid of him to show her. It's very Leon.

He thinks he knows who Ada Wong is, even a sliver of her, and he thinks he knows what the name means for a woman who is no one at all by design. So, because of what she knows he thinks, she lets him pull her closer and calls his bluff--skirts fingers over the shoulder seam of his jacket with her hand that she drapes there and dares him to move away when she leans closer in and speaks just past his cheek, hoping her voice makes the microphone peak as she talks into it almost directly.

"That's no way to get what you want," she half-hums the words. He wants so badly to lead the dance and Ada doesn't mind letting Leon think he's capable of it; It's that she won't let him in the end. But he doesn't have to know that. "You're the one who was always too caught up in work to catch what happened before cut-off." She tilts her head back a touch to give his earpiece mic a break and drifts to set her chin over the back of her palm on his shoulder, angling her hand in his forcefully so they'll have to turn to the side as she steps in that direction. So she can see Septim again. And also see the way one of her suits comes running up out of the crowd, motioning toward an exit to an outer corridor. Ada can't hear into Leon's ear piece but she's sure he'll be hearing something after a few more seconds.

"Looks like I'll be getting drunk alone anyway, hm." She squints at him, fake, long-suffering frustration rising to color her smirk. "I know that look." And she'll be gone faster than he has to be if the way her grip on his hand immediately loosens means anything. One of her fingernails on his shoulder pokes at the seam again. Last chance, she says with a narrowing of her eyes. Meeting at 2:30? Make it worth my while.

Leon suppresses a grimace when Ada points out his shoes. Instead he manages something of a barely controlled shrug that makes him look more in control than he feels. "Well, you weren't supposed to be here." You were dead as of thirty minutes ago. "I polished them and everything. Anyway, and more importantly, I've got a few moves up my sleeve now." The agent training does that. "Maybe I'll criminally embarrass you with some cool dance moves." He smiles a smile that's reminiscent of the one he had in Raccoon City / rookie cop all over again, dimples in his cheeks flashing back to a time where Leon had the luxury to just turn around and leave when he wanted to. He should have just turned around when he stopped at that gas station. None of them had any idea...

With both of their hands free, Leon holds his hand out and takes Ada's in his own, his other arm coming to loop around her waist. She does get tugged in a bit more than is necessarily professional or can even be viewed as perfunctory politeness; but Leon's not gonna try if they're 'exes.' Plus, like this, Ada can lean up on her tip toes and wrap her hands around his neck and whisper directly into his un-wired ear. Not that they're on the same side, Leon won't make that mistake, but maybe they can have something halfway to a normal conversation if she's not going to ditch him before the night's up.

Just to annoy her, Leon positions the two of them so he's the one with a good eye on Septim's dress on the other side of the room, swaying both of their bodies to the tune of a champagne sounding little number that someone who lived in Paris probably wrote a long time ago, warm yellow light spilling and capturing every edge of the moment like gilded perfection even when it isn't. "Should I expect to be doing some running after you if you get too drunk? You'd always get carried away if it got too late." He pauses in faux remembrance. This time his smile is more current-Leon than past-Leon, the tinges of something resembling cool wickedness beginning to dot his features, although it'll still be a little while before it crystallizes into the resigned humor he sports through Spain. "I had to carry your heels for you more than a few times." Ok, making Ada Wong sound incompetent over a wire no one is listening to is totally unnecessary...but Leon won't resist a small dig like that. "2:30 was usually your cut-off time."

What this means is: You better meet me somewhere at 2:30. Leon doesn't particularly care about what Ada is here for beyond the vague notions of public endangerment and the growing usuality of bio-weapons in his morning briefings as well as Umbrella's shroud--BUT he'd rather pretend they're meeting on their own terms instead of him having to play shadow tag with her for the rest of the night: Ada is good, but Leon's improved a lot since they last saw each other, and he's not gonna let her just slip off like smoke. It'll be nicer to not have to do the song and dance if he can help it.

[spirestar]

Erron has half a mind to scruff Johnny like a cat and drag him off the street before they get yelled at for taking up the road. He taps a few fingers idly against one of the pistols on his belt, thumbnail clicking against the side of a trigger. "Sure," is his answer to Cage's thanks. Like Johnny gives a goddamn who's saving him so long as he gets to keep his perfect pretty teeth in his mouth.

"F'ya botch it, Kotal Kahn'll do a lot worse to you than this," he drawls the words smugly and motions toward Johnny's scrambled head. Beheading et cetera. Something Erron's always liked about Outworld is how people stick to their decisions even when they're wrong. It makes it easy to find a place to slot in and make yourself worth something. Easy to be a bit of a slimy bastard when everyone expects you to do the same things they do. Not that he's trying to get Johnny killed today though. "Guess I won't try'n call Blade to make fun of you though."

The last thing Black wants is to get given a cold lover's message back for Johnny, or more likely Sonya's half of a lover's quarrel. No thanks. "We better 'getcha to your meetin' with 'n back to the palace before someone else tries 'ta turn your brains into ground beef." Li Mei and the other outer village leaders won't be happy if an Earthrealmer keeps them waiting. They already get ignored by a majority of the authorities in the capital city. Erron digs his boots into the ground as he walks off the street and the spurs on them jingle softly. This is gonna be a long day.

"Yeah, yeah…" Johnny waves him off, taking a deep breath and moving to stand again - a little wobbly, but a quick shake of the head… never mind, he should not have done that, boy his vision swims, but, still, what matters is that he's up and ready to go. Meetings and such can't go on with him sitting on his ass in these dusty streets.

"Guess I can say I got a proper Outworld welcome, it's like I'm a local already." Not, he's just saying it to be annoying, looking Black up and down before sighing with the petulant attitude of someone that does not want to be thankful. "Thanks for uh, scaring them off, I'd have it handled but you know, hands are tied and all that."

Seriously, no respect on his name. He is Johnny C! Cage man himself! Talk about a civilization stuck in the past, the moment they start sharing technology between realms, he is making sure HIS movies are the first to be streamed.

… Maybe. With how things roll around here he might just paint himself as an even bigger target, which he is not a big fan of.

"And hey, Sonya would understand - she'd be proud even, for not immediately botching this peace keeping mission. Even if it means getting sucker punched to the back of the head, all in the name of a great cause."

[spirestar]

@heartinhands : i don't want you to keep verso's stuff. (verso for monoco. sorry i had to have him be a bitch just once)

Monoco cannot blink. He was given a field of vision to see from, but no eyelashes or drawstring-like lids. He was made to be a tireless and peerless friend. This world was first made for fun. For adventure. These are the things Monoco understands. Sometimes he feels entirely unprepared for conversations like this. Other times--

"So. What." Monoco knows already that he keeps very little for himself. He's never needed much. Just Nevron pieces to show off his abilities and a good bag to carry them in. He's run across the canvas with this Verso for years and years, for a longer stint of consecutive time than he ever had with the Verso who painted each rock and stone, who set trains to crawl around the surface before the Fracture destroyed them along with so much else that he loved. "You went through my stuff?"

A better point: Verso has crossed a line if this is true. If he knows about the small tank engine toy that sinks to the bottom of Monoco's giant backpack. Not an unforgivable line--Monoco isn't sure that there is one of those for Verso, because he understands both of the boys who became Verso much better than he ever lets on--but one that he won't ignore being pushed. Defensively: "I don't have to do anything I don't want to." This is a cold, hard fact. No matter how he is painted, Monoco will do as he pleases. Yes, he feels a loyalty to Verso that is bigger than himself. It makes him happy to travel together. Getting into trouble is the most fun with Verso, not without him. But Monoco is a good friend, not a yes-man. He fights for things. Noco comes to mind and again Monoco cannot blink the thought away. He cannot aim a disbelieving stare and blink at Verso.

He can only stand with his arms crossed and wait for an answer. It's not like Verso ever asks very much of him (because he never needed to in this world at first, and now everything is so very different). He can listen to an explanation.

[spirestar]

Sciel flashes her eyes wide and shakes her head, exhaling a singular giggle. "Wouldn't. You. Like. Ta'know." She kicks out a foot to nudge at Verso's abandoned stick and send it closer to the flames. Not all the way in, but near enough just to see if she can get them to be protective of even a dead piece of wood. He would. Protective of everything he wants to let go of.

Verso is a lot like many of the teachers she knew in her short time working as one. Most of them Gommaged while still holding the position, compared to farmers who often spent their last years helping with less physical tasks, or shopkeeps who passed their stores off before they said goodbye. Teachers never felt finished, even when some of them desperately wanted to be. Because it hurt. Every year, it became more and more of a pressing fact that hardly any of their students would even have a chance to use the life skills they were being given beyond their childhoods. Apprenticeships gave everyone a bit of ground to stand on there, a bit of room to feel they'd accomplished something with their small bit of time, but still. Sciel's students still grasped her hands tight after the 34th's Gommage like they were memorizing the grooves and lines of her palms. The rough patches where her skin had weathered in the sun and where her tools often dug into the flesh there over the years. Yeah. Getting plastered after she said goodbye to them had been the right decision.

Reflexively, Sciel closes her palms and drops them to her lap. She doesn't want to look at the bracelets anymore.

Really she never stole that much. And usually it was only to play a joke. To get chased around with a trowel or sprayed with a hose. You have to make your own fun in Lumière. "What, you don't like rabbits? I think they're cute." She enunciates cute in English, like that makes it sillier. "And you like when I tease you," she adds this offhand. It's a fact about him she's never questioned once. "Are you a bad cook then? If all you've been eating is dried meat. Hurting my rabbit sensibilities a bit here."

Sciel is kind enough not to say it aloud: the beach. A swelling of guilt takes over Verso's chest anyway--seems that's happening to them a lot these days, more guilt than person--because he had been there too after all--seen the way Renoir had turned all the Expeditioners into nothing more than ink stains on the fine sand. A hand reaches up and curves around the back of his neck, rubbing awkwardly. "'Thieving rabbit?' Seems like a harsh nickname if all you're stealing is a spinach leaf or two." Despite it all the quip comes easily. Verso drops to their knees to put the stick they're using to poke at the fire just to the side of the pit, watching the black-charred ashy portion for a moment for no reason in particular.

Maelle. Inevitably his gaze goes to the side again at where the girl is still scribbling; Verso doesn't know Maelle but he does know his-Alicia and he recognizes the instinctive hunch of her back when she gets focused and doesn't want to be bothered. When Alicia got into a writing spell she'd often sit like that, hair more curtain than anything else. "Shame." And he clicks his tongue to mirror Sciel's, smiling a little tongue-in-cheek when their eyes meet hers. "I'm getting a little tired of dried meat." It's about all Verso's really eaten consistently since he forsake his history and the manor--the manor that growing up always seemed to have stocks of the family's favorite foods ready for them to cook up and enjoy together as soon as they wished for it. Now Verso knows what he knows now and the Canvas. A mother who is a god wouldn't have wanted her children to miss the simple joy of having a well-stocked pantry of whatever they wanted to eat when they wanted it. So there was simply no way she wouldn't have used her power to grant her family that small little detail, so insignificant in the context of the world and how it was meant to be a serenely smiling dream to cover over death...but now it seemed so obviously out of place, such a dead giveaway about what was really going on. Verso wonders how they grew up not thinking anything about what the world was at all. Perhaps Aline just made them that way--all smiling and laughing and cheerful, only existing to please Maman as their fingers got sticky with peach juice in the heat of summer.

That's besides the point though. The point is that Verso has eaten lots of dried rabbit over the years because it's easy to keep and goes pretty well with the vintage drafts they've stored with Esquie. He's glad, when his paths cross with Expeditions, to eat something more interesting for once. But 33 didn't have that luxury thanks to the beach. And now there would be no marshmallows for them. "Are you serious when you say they called you 'thieving rabbit?' Or is that just a Sciel-ism made to tease me?" Verso sits fully on the ground finally.

[spirestar]

fire walk with me.

dialogue prompts from twin peaks: fire walk with me (1992).

make yourself at home. it's gonna be a while.

we don't need any outside help around here.

your behavior is not funny.

we have our own clock.

where are we going to sleep?

you have your own m.o., don't you?

you want to hear about our specials? we don't have any.

are you talking to me in code?

i mean exactly what i said.

i'm gonna make myself a cup of good morning america. you want some?

i've already gone places. i just want to stay where i am.

we live inside a dream.

that's not the way. i told you.

that's what i like about you. you're tough to handle.

quit trying to hold on so tight. i'm gone. long gone.

don't ever leave. i'll never leave you.

you'll be calling soon, and maybe i won't be around.

night time is my time.

why don't you get out your violin?

do you think that if you were falling in space, you would slow down after a while, or go faster and faster?

you will never be a smoker if you don't start.

i don't know when i can come back. maybe never.

what were you doing in my room?

you don't have to lie to me, ever. you can tell me anything. i will understand.

can't we talk about something serious, for a change?

because it is just a feeling, i am powerless to stop it.

i just want one friend. just for one minute.

how about one friend for the rest of your whole life?

i'm your friend no matter what way you are.

even when i just think about your face, i get happier.

where were you last night? i thought we were supposed to get together.

are you telling me there's no santa claus?

you crazy fucking canadian.

remember me? i'm your best friend.

aren't you going to fix me a drink?

when this kind of fire starts, it is very hard to put out.

do you think we're lucky, or just a terrible accident?

i'm as blank as a fart.

how did i get in my house? how'd i get in my bed?

life is full of mysteries, [name].

i don't want you to wear my stuff.

i love you. but i don't want you to be like me.

why doesn't somebody do something about this?

sooner or later, you're going to have to deal with all of this.

it's a school night. back by nine.

bad news, kid.

what is the world coming to?

don't get funny on me again.

let's ditch this place and party.

i'm going home to my bed. to my nice, warm bed.

raccoons remind me of my aunt, who lives in wyoming.

i'm very confused. who am i talking to?

god, why did i say that?

there's no place left to go, is there?

we have everything but everything.

let's get lost together.

open your eyes. you don't even know me.

is it future? or is it past?

where am i? and how can i leave?

you are here. now there is no place to go but home.

you're going right back to bed.

[spirestar]

Cam glances away when Dante winces, not really expecting any course correction on the idea. Yeah, it sure as hell made more sense than her being alive. Something Cam hasn't been able to stop thinking about since finding out / Something she's never been able to forgive herself for even before she knew the truth. If she'd been taking care of Nero, would he ever have been taken? Would she even be alive? Yes is the answer she comes up with to try and keep herself from looking angry at Dante for reminding her. Cam really isn't angry at all now--Just a little hurt, and very tired.

She pinches the bridge of her nose and lets her lashes take up her vision during all the rest. Eugh. And this is why she doesn't talk to the guy. Cam doesn't want to think about the fact everyone knows her business now either--And she'd especially love to forget that day she and Dante spoke after the island. As if she ever could. "Yeah," she sounds grumpy all over again, brow furrowed as she shakes her head and longer bits of the hair by her cheeks bunch up in her collar. She's sure things are weird enough already for the poor fucking kid. "All of you certainly give me a run for my money." Complaining feels nice, at least. She isn't looking for Dante's pity. Finally she loosens up the grit of her teeth, takes another sip of her coffee. "Whatever you both do, don't let me get in the middle of your fighting. I never told you anything because it was all over." And now it's not; She stills says it like it was final because for her it was. "I still like having arguments with you that aren't about my not-dead teenage whatever-your-brother-was," she's not going to give him ground on that one but maybe it'll sound bad enough he'll be too grossed out to bother her more, "and my...alive son. Just don't think I'll invite you when I take the kid to hang out," she mimics his intonation there, her scowl almost a smile if you squint and her cheeks slightly pinker than usual, "and it goes terribly." Calling him Nero is still hard for her.

[spirestar]

I miss you. I don’t have the right to miss you, but I do. 

CLAIR OBSCUR: EXPÉDITION 33 (2025) dev. Sandfall Interactive

[spirestar]

Clara counts herself as the luckiest girl alive. She is impossible and none can understand her. She is never alone because she has her sister, the only one who knows her. The Town-on-Gorkhon adores her miracles / The Town-on-Gorkhon despises her for her plague. Her eyes are huge and bright as she watches this man who is so terribly wrong choke on the air--They're not made of clay and hay and earth at all, just brushstrokes, and there are no strings for her to grasp. But she still has her hooks.

"You're as new as me!" She chirps, clasping her hands together as a wide beam of a toothy smile shines across her face. All of Clara is a shimmering mirage, one even she has no way of seeing beneath. The man with the streaks of silver isn't stuffed with sand. She has been dying for a plaything that might be like her. "Did you roll out of the grave, too? The twyre would be part of you then, too, hmmmm..." Her hmm is musical and discordant, as if her vocal cords each have a pitch and tune of their own. Never has a little girl been able to make the most odd string of words sound scary; Never has a girl been so unlike a living thing before Clara. "Who made you so flimsy? This is The Town," she says this like it is the most definitive statement imaginable. "I can fix you if you want. So it won't hurt so badly!" Her tone flips quick from considering curiosity to genuine excitement. She can do that! She can do miracles! There is nothing Clara believes in more! "Tell me your name!"

@spirestar verso & ... someone from pathologic

He thought he was wholly familiar with the Canvas by now. Evidently, he was wrong. Verso blinks and breathes in air overly thickened with some sweet herbal scent. It clings to his lungs and pushes; it feels almost sentient. Each breath is a labor of its own. He feels sweat forming on his brow. Verso is supposed to be immortal: he's used to things hurting and the generalized discomfort of having a body, but he's not used to his environment feeling so hostile. After all, the Canvas was supposed to love him: a smattering of his mother's Aline's love filtering through brush strokes, earth and majesty all to give him Verso Dessendre a life he could not live.

A figure approaches. It's a stupid question, but the only thing Verso can think to say. "Where is this? Why is the air so... un-breathable?"

[spirestar]

Aerith couldn't say what dragged them along here. It certainly isn't any sense of self-preservation. Zack wanted her to meet some of his friends--the ones not actively trying to fight him constantly--and maybe she agreed because he promised her. He promised to show her the world, to make impossible things possible.

It was really stupid of her. But also why wouldn't Zack have said from the start that the specific friend wasn't another of his foot soldier acquaintances?? She's met Kunsel, and then a few others who Zack swore to secrecy for her who she's sure she'll never see again. But this is. This is--!

It's Sephiroth. That's the kind of information that Aerith could've used while making her very silly decision. Probably would've changed things. A lot. Sephiroth is Shinra's most public toy soldier. They know Sephiroth probably remembers where they're from. When Zack introduced them, it was all she could do to smile and say her own name and not run away like she was always taught to. Because Sephiroth, she's--She's Zack's friend. And Aerith wants to trust Zack and his friends.

After a while of hiding out in the back room of a restaurant, they've nearly finished up all their snacks when Zack has to rush out to answer a call, his hand patting twice on their own back, and then once on Sephiroth's shoulder as he chuckles to himself on his way out. Aerith prods a chopstick at the last of her ramen. Her fizzy fake-cherry blossom soda is going to go flat if she doesn't finish it. They're trying to find something to say, to stop staring at Sephiroth like Do you remember too? Did you know before you came? when @serapime speaks instead:

“ I'm not yet ready for it to end. ”

Aerith nods once, her face--still warm from the last joke Zack teased her with--pinching a little pale as she clears her throat. Does she just mean their dinner, or...? "I can." ACK! They shouldn't be saying this, Elmyra will kill them, "We can get some more food and--then I can show you around some of the side street shops if you want, the ones with less crowds this time of day. Zack might not come back if one of his other friends needs him." He's just like that; A silhouette of a perfect friend, of a good teammate, of a loyal warrior. Aerith's smile is meek, an attempt at staving off her anxiety when she adds, so so quietly, "Zack didn't tell me it would be you."

[spirestar]

Shoko exhales another puff of smoke--this time into his face--when he quips back. "Mlehhhh," she groans, eyes rolling. Playing too, obviously. Once he starts to answer her question, though, she focuses in on him more directly again. Shoko likes to mess around, but she also knows Suguru is serious about wanting to learn. For her part, she's really been trying to explain things the best she can. It might not look like it to anyone else, but. Geto should, and probably does, know better.

"You want a prize? Like what? Takoyaki?" Shoko leans in to the space between them with her eyes narrowed at Suguru and flicks some ash off her cigarette onto the wood paneled floor. "You should be the one giving me a prize for trying to show you this! Nobody else gets this either, so." She shrugs, only half-teasing with the last comment. The other half of her almost wants to distract him from trying. It makes her feel silly to keep watching him bonk his head against a wall like this. Then, with a glare of scrutiny, she adds, "Ohhhh, Suguru, Suguru. You meant like a kiss?" Now she's already back to teasing, her nose scrunching from the force of her grin. It's not mocking entirely, though. A good amount of it is warm still, like she thinks he's messing with her, too. A distraction if there ever was one, huh? "Is that why you're trying to learn my technique? Smooth, very smooth, Geto-chan."

she questions, isn't that what i said? and he looks at her, pausing, "...yeah. kind of." he offers her, though there's a small smile on his face. which instantly goes flat as she follows up with unnecessary commentary and critique in saying he looked constipated. the focus broke clean right then and there with a sigh. his head tips forward, a lock of his hair slipping forward between his eyes as he looks at her, unimpressed. "Really?" pointed, brows arching. eventually slipping into a smile, faintly, but very much there. enough to play along, as he doesn't break eye contact. "Because you have plenty of experience in knowing what that looks like...?" quipping right back lightly, playfully challenging.

and soon after, she shifts gears questioning something that repositions the conversation. his shoulders lifted as he sits up, thinking over her question, visibly more disciplined in his posture now. "No," he finally shakes his head, "that's different." Cursed spirit manipulation was his own innate technique, an affinity that came easier. Control over mastering your technique, dominance, precision. Bending things to his will, fluidity in combat, strategizing. His technique required certainty, but reversed curse technique.. "This feels like the opposite of that." he adds quietly. Even so, it's not an easy feat to explain, so he doesn't go further. He half covers his own frustration with a dryer tone, "I don't know. Maybe some motivation would help." half joking.

// @spirestar

[spirestar]

Takeda shakes his head almost immediately, long strands of hair tickling his ears and poking from beneath his bandana. "You owe me no apologies." His hand waves reflexively, a calming motion--Not to brush off Scorpion's apology as worthless, but to show that Takeda doesn't feel that he has been wronged. He wasn't here (even though he should've been). He wasn't the one who helped bring Hanzo home (even though he should've been). Scorpion, for all that everyone seemed to blame him, is the reason the Grandmaster lives at all. It's the kind of debt that is likely to be impossible to repay to a wraith from some version of their world's past, but Takeda will find a way to of there is any chance to.

"It's not the first time I've seen him close to death," he hopes he doesn't imply too much by saying it, that the conversation has steered away enough to the topic of Scorpion's family for the man to not ask Takeda more about the attack on the Shirai Ryu he saw. A shared experience for them both. But not one Takeda has ever spoken to many about aloud. "It's honestly kind of crazy he's never been poisoned by D'vorah before. She's weird as hell." And always betraying someone, if Takeda's experiences in Outworld are consistent with current events. "Follow me."

They aren't far from Grandmaster Hasashi's chosen barracks; Takeda leads the way with efficient pace, careful to survey their surroundings for any changes from his last visit as he goes. "If you..." He swallows and turns to give Scorpion a look over his shoulder before facing forward again. "If you don't mind me asking. This time stuff..." Takeda throws a hand up to say I just don't get it! "I know we can't do much about it here, but. If we get any notice from Raiden or Cassie, I'll have to..." Leave? Leave everyone here? Takeda shakes his head. Never mind. He'll do what he has to. "Is it really as bad as Raiden made it sound?"

@soulforfeit

Scorpion nods, quiet in contemplation for a moment before he answers. "I would like to see them." He is allowed to want, to covet - it is all he ever does, in some sense; yearn for what can no longer be.

To know that his beloved family has space here would be a balm over a charred heart. It would not lessen the amount by which he misses them, wishes they were back in his arms, alive and well… but he would want them at least given dignity of a cherished resting place.

Check on him. Right.

"I apologize for my initial words regarding him." Scorpion offers, almost sheepish but such an emotion is hard through convey when spoken with a voice with such stern conviction. "I did not mean to imply he was truly dead… merely resting. I caused needless worry and strife." He bows lightly in shame.

He still remembers Sub-Zero's face. Such emotion… why?

"Master Hasashi must purge his mortal body of the insect's poison, and for that he must burn." Hot to the touch, a fever that would no doubt kill any normal person. Scorpion is aware because he too would often stew in recovery whenever he disappointed Quan Chi, the sorcerer withholding his healing spells after combat.

Hanzo would be fine, given time… which may or may not be something they will have for long; so the present moment is all they can truly focus on.

@spirestar

[spirestar]

✱˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝟎𝟏 . ( a collection of assorted prompts intended to inspire drabbles & maybe starters. adjust as desired. )

describe a time your muse committed a justified act of violence.

describe a time your muse felt truly free.

describe a time your muse just couldn't help themself.

describe a time your muse committed a crime.

describe a time your muse discovered something about themself.

describe the earliest birthday your muse can remember.

describe a time your muse broke the rules.

describe your muse's feelings on their gender.

describe your muse's feelings on their sexuality.

describe a time your muse felt truly loved.

describe a time your muse lost their temper.

describe your muse's very first kiss.

describe the moment your muse discovered their passion in life.

describe a time your muse longed for something so deeply it tore them apart.

describe a time your muse worked themself to exhaustion.

describe a time your character was treated medically.

describe a time your muse made an unheard cry for help.

describe a time your muse couldn't care for themselves.

describe a time your muse couldn't commit to something or someone.

describe a time your muse realized they were in love.

describe a time your muse felt betrayed.

describe a time your muse learned devastating information.

describe a moment your muse reminisces about often.

describe a moment in which your muse lashed out violently.

describe the first time your muse held a weapon.

describe a time your muse blacked out.

describe a moment your muse was absolutely terrified.

describe a moment your muse went into fight or flight mode.

describe a moment your muse had a big, life-altering revelation.

describe the first time your muse took someone's life.

describe a time your muse went somewhere they shouldn't.

describe a time your muse sneaked out of the house.

describe a traumatic experience from your muse's childhood.

describe the first concert your muse ever went to.

describe your muse's dream [ engagement / wedding ].

describe an outing that went terribly, horribly wrong for your muse.

describe a time your muse found themself somewhere unexpected.

FOR PAIRINGS:

describe a time our muses slept in late together.

describe the moment receiver knew they were in love with sender.

describe the first significant fight our muses got into.

describe a time receiver thought they were going to lose sender.

describe the first time receiver realized they were comfortable around sender.

describe a moment that receiver felt betrayed by sender.

describe a private thought receiver has had about sender.

describe a time our muses went on a long scenic road trip.

describe a moment where receiver held onto sender a little tighter.

describe a moment of pure joy between our muses.

describe a moment where sender made receiver feel safe.

describe a moment of grief and mourning between our muses.

describe a moment where receiver lost their temper with sender.

describe a moment where receiver broke down in front of sender.

describe a moment receiver jumped into action to protect sender.

describe a kiss between our muses that 'shouldn't' have happened.

describe a day/night our muses lost track of time together.

describe the first date our muses ever went on.

describe the day our muses got the keys to their first place.

describe a night our muses stayed out until ridiculously early.