hadriel_logs | Event Post: Everyone Chill

Entry tags:

Event Post: Everyone Chill

Who: Everyone participating in the event!
What: The event log for Tranquility's resurrection event!
Where: All around the city
When: December 27th-January 7th
Warnings: Absolutely nothing creepy or weird at all.

The revival of Tranquility on December 27th marks a vast - if temporary, and actually completely fake - change to the city. Upon awakening that morning, the inhabitants of Hadriel will find the city changed from its usual broken-down dour cave self into a sparkling, clean, delightful island city. Instead of being surrounded by hard stone walls, the city is surrounded by warm ocean waters and soft white sand beaches.

Gentle waves lap at the shore, the sky overhead is perfect, wide and open. The spires have been replaced by shining skyscrapers, the roads are clear of rubble and paved neatly. The stores are quaint, windows no longer broken, and the items inside have changed too. Instead of simple canned goods and strange clothing, you might find delicate pastries, cool drinks, fresh fruit, and flowy summer clothes to match the city. How nice! How calming, really. Didn't everyone need a vacation? So throw on some flip-flops, grab one of the mopeds that have been provided, and enjoy yourselves!

As the days go on, though, you might notice one or two odd things. Maybe the pretty sun hat you picked up looked, for just a moment, like a grubby old baseball cap instead. Maybe that beach ball is a little heavier than it should be. Maybe the shining wall of that skyscraper feels more like stone than glass. Maybe - just for an instant - the sky above was solid rock instead of the gentle, calming hues of the sunset.

While there is a mild compulsion toward calmness and tranquility, towards accepting the city for exactly what it seems to be, that can be ignored - and the illusion can be broken, if you choose to try. But do you really want to? Isn't that croissant much nicer than yet another can of beans? Wouldn't you rather relax at the beach than run around, trying to convince all your friends that this is just the gods getting inside their heads again in an even more creepy and all-encompassing way than usual?

Come on. Don't be a buzzkill.

► This log covers December 27th-January 7th.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you chill out so much you end up dead, please let us know here.

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No, no and no! If there was one thing Will didn't want, it was to catch anybody's attention! This is why he prefers the company of his dogs. Dogs don't analyze you, the don't expect anything from you, no promises to break, no questions about how you feel or what you're doing, just happy, friendly, wagging tails that love to simply be near you. Will would rather Yukari a stray dog than curious person right about now. It just makes him uncomfortable.

".. Did you... Did you just call me chan?" Yes, that was the main part he decided to pick at from all of that. Screwing his face up, perplexed by the use of the word. He knew what it meant but he'd never been called it before, it just felt odd. As Yukari continues to use the word, even to ask about Winston, Will comes to realize that he's just talking in a playful way, and seems to mean nothing by it.

"You mean, Winston? ... We met on the road."

Back in either of their homeworlds, Will was sure of one thing, that he would want Jill there as his partner. Be it covering his ass from man-eating monsters while he gathers evidence or aiding him in his investigations like Bev or Jack had back him. If he knew how bad it had been and how much worse it could get for Jill and her world, Will would have felt terrible, he'd try and make sure she could come back with him, safe and sound. let him take care of the people and their motives, she could fire off rounds and make sure he didn't get himself killed.

Will had neglected to dry himself off, he was warm enough to drip dry, water splashing from the curls of his hair from time to time and his skin felt a nice cool as his wet shirt stuck to him. But Jill looked nice and comfortable in that towel, he was happy he offered it to her.

" Heh 'Gift'" He huffed out with a laugh. " It's more of a side effect of an overactive imagination... I'm just a teacup." Smiling to himself as he shakes his head. " Jack, er, my boss see's me as a his finest china... I'm only good for use with certain guests." Think of it what she may, Will didn't go into much detail about it. Looking to fetch himself another beer as he stood and moved towards her.

As she gestured to the sea, Will actually smiled while looking around. "Yea, I was actually starting to think about building my own. Well. Frankenstine my own out of old scraps and dead engines."

Yukari chuckles as Will only takes the -chan part from all of that, obviously dodging the other question.

"Is it all so bad to be called -chan?" Not that Yukari particularly cares if Will takes offense to it or not. Until otherwise proven worthy of Yukari's respect, you're going to have to settle on -chan. Or you could go the significantly more difficult way and annoy the piss out of Yukari. Then you won't have a suffix at all. "So, does that mean he was a stray when you first found each other."

Since Will seems to be willing to talk about dogs, they'll talk about dogs.

A gift and a curse, maybe. Will's sight allowed him to help people, but after seeing the state of him in Silent Hill, she understood that he didn't lead an easy life because of his active imagination.

She understood the metaphor, but it also occurred to Jill that teacups were fragile. Knowing that, it just made her want to be there for him even more. Protect him, if she could.

At the idea of building a boat, she smiled. "I think that's a great idea. I'd help, of course." Jill doesn't know a thing about it, but she's always willing to lend him a hand.

Quill nods along, glad to hear she was right about Ahsoka. Those are excellent approaches to the problem, though her results are pretty grim. Still, there's no situation Quill wasn't able to fight her way out of eventually ~~besides being made a slave to the prince~~. Especially with capable allies like this.

Speaking of which, "What's the Force? Some kind of telepathy?" She may be a bit suspicious of telepathy, what with the creature in her brain using her thoughts against her.

They don't look disappointed. Part of them, however, is. A tiny flame of hope that extinguishes itself all too easily, accepting the fact that it was never really practical in the first place. It would have been nice, to think there was more.

But there isn't. And that's all there is to it.

"Mom used to remember that I like cinnamon. She said it felt like she already knew me." They look back up to the sky, after a moment, fingers curling into their sleeves. "Do you think everyone remembers, just a little bit?"

They call her...

Yeah. She's got that integrity to her, don't she? Not difficult to imagine what'd draw a kid like them to a lady like that. And part of him, a part of him he can't ever shut right off, much as he'd like, has gotta wonder - has gotta wonder if she was doin' all right behind that door, the first time. Or...the last time.

Hell if he can keep track anymore.

He tilts his skull back and surveys the imaginary spread of stars. Really is quite a view, so radically different from the stones stuck on the Waterfall ceiling.

"It's a complicated thing," he says at last, "memory. Sometimes things don't really stick up here, y'know?" And he taps the temporal region of his skull with the tip of a phalanx, the soft tick-tick of bone on bone.

"But here's the thing." And that's a softer smile, maybe a bit of a sad one, but - a softer one nonetheless. "Maybe it don't all stay up here. But some of it stays in here."

His hand goes to the central region of his ribcage, just over his SOUL. And for barely a moment, a feather-light, wisping white glow flares behind the cupped hand, lighting up the silhouette of his ribs, before it dims again.

"You end up touching people's SOULs, kiddo." And his hand slips back into his jacket pocket, the lights in his sockets swinging up and away and back to the sky again. "And that's a...heh, that's a pretty special kind of love."

With his eyes on the ceiling, perhaps- he'll miss it. The moment Frisk goes quiet, the way their fingers disappear into their sleeves entirely. The stars are still beaming down from the vast expanse above them; wonderful, and mysterious. Every single one has a story, they think. Every single one has been there for a long time.

It just takes one red star to ruin a whole lot of them. Even if they don't burn up, they leave an impression. Deep, deep in their core, where the damage can't be fixed. It'll never go away.

That's... a pretty special kind of LOVE.
They don't usually hold this sentiment. This is the kind of thing that Chara thinks; constantly, daily. But for once, they find themself wondering about hate, and themself- and for once, the thought decides to stay, for a while.

If they try now, they think they could do it. Hands cupped over their chest, a warmth that feels like it's ready to burst. Never seen a monster SOUL that wasn't breaking. But their own?

The light that pools between their fingers is a deep, vibrant red. They press their fingers over their sweater, like they can trap it in place. If they never let it out, then it never really exists, does it?

"...I wish I didn't."

There's no shooting star to wish upon, but that's fine.

They hate wishes.

Who doesn't?

But he keeps his tone soft, quiet. Don't inject that vein of judgment in there, cruelly, and spoil an otherwise pleasant moment. Or, if not pleasant then - bearable. Bearable, and livable, hopefully for the both of 'em.

Speak low and easy, as naturally as if he might be talking about the weather. Don't pour any undue weight on the notion. Don't make things worse than they already are. And don't - lull them into some kinda false sense of security.

That's just about the cruelest thing a guy like him could do.

"Why's that?"

Why's that, he asks, and they're stuck. Know he won't like the answer, know it'll cause another argument. He won't like the way they think, and they won't get to look at the stars anymore. This might be the only time they get to.

Do they really want to ruin it?

No. No, they really don't. And the silence sticks into place, quickly growing into something uncomfortable, until Frisk deviates as best they can. It's blunt and obvious, and there's nothing they can do about it.

They couldn't think of any conversation topics.

"So is Pluto a planet?"

The silence steps just past awkward and crosses easily into uncomfortable the longer it goes on, and he's thinkin' - yeah, it ain't for a very happy reason. Stands to reason, right? Only he's made himself real, real clear on what he thinks of that, and so -

So they change the subject. It's about as awkward and uncomfortable a shift as the silence that preceded it, but he's...well, it ain't so surprising for him to acknowledge, wearily, that he's tired. He's tired, and so're they.

Stand there and take it.

"Looks like you win that one, kiddo." He shakes his skull in mock disappointment. "Poor, poor lonely Pluto. What's it gonna do up there all on its own, huh?"

They try, valiantly, to start breathing again. It takes a few moments.

"Maybe it wants to be alone; we're just respecting it's boundaries." If that sounds more like something Chara would say- well, that would be because it is something they'd say. Over and over and over again, waiting patiently for Frisk to understand the key difference between enemies-

Monsters. The key difference between monsters.

Sounds a bit like something their Partner might say, yeah, but he don't call it out. They both just either dodged a bullet or set themselves up on the chopping block; time'll tell which it is.

"Well, bottom line is - looks like you win our little bet." He don't look too disappointed, point of fact. "Tripe secret password's all yours, Frisk."

And if they don't make it at least a little bit absurd, he won't be sad; just disappointed.

... Guess I did. ( Kate huffs out a small laugh at that. ) Between th' monsters and everythin' else, anyway.

( And Kate doesn't think she'll ever quite get used to remembering that things like this are beyond the minds of others, even if that same logic can be used against her - there are many people here with worlds she can't even comprehend being real, like Shadow or Glacius, whose universes contain items and beings that her own would dismiss as bad fiction.

Being, ostensibly, electric - or... magic, really, considering the gods' understandings of all things modern technology always seems a little weird, a little off (like the buttons on the ovens in the kitchens they use) - they're not as loud as some things in existence back home. )

S'pose. ( She keeps her speed steady, matching his, turning a corner as they go. ) Motorbikes are louder. Faster too.

I'll take the beach over the tunnels any day.

[Even if it's all fake.]

[The prevalence of machines in every aspect of their lives never ceases to surprise Henry. In some ways he thinks it should not, because everyone prizes inventiveness and advances in all fields of knowledge. One would be a fool to think ill of progress.

But most people aren't thrust into the midst of hundreds of years of it. He is often acutely aware that he is glimpsing a world that he was never meant to see. If he spoke of it back home he would be branded mad.]

What are they?

"The hell if I know." Blunt, but not meant harshly. There's so little logic to this place, so much that they've no answers for, which the gods either don't know or won't say. Kate exhales, runs a hand through her hair, pushing back loose strands, and stretches out until she lies down on the sand. Or what looks like sand, anyway.

"Wonder if time's passing back home," she comments, threading her hands behind her head, pillowing it from the not-actually-sand beneath her. "When Faith turned up, she said it were still the same time as when I left."

"Not exactly, although that can be a part of it, if you really want to use it that way." Which Ahsoka doesn't. A little bit of persuasion as the situation calls for it, or generally keeping track of the emotions around her are as far as she goes.

"The Force is... I suppose you could call it an entity, but it's something that connects every living thing in the galaxy - although it's a little different here than it is home. To those who are born sensitive to it, like I was, it's a way of being connected to the world around us, being able to sense people or living things, what sort of state they're in, or when they're about to attack. It can look a little like magic, too, though. It helps me when I fight, improving my reactions or helping me move in ways I wouldn't be able to otherwise."

( And god only knows where they'll go from here. Will her world end up with the ability to travel across space, like Glacius' people can? Will those shows and movies and books about hovercars and holographic tech become reality? Will humans figure out a way to make teleportation work without a Superhuman nearby?

She doesn't often think about it, but Marc did. Talked her ear off at times.

But, as for the question. ) ... Bigger, faster cousin of these, I guess. More dangerous. ( When they can go several times faster than a moped, yeah. )

"Sounds useful," she comments with the quirk of an eyebrow, the understatement of the day. It must be an incredible advantage in a fight, to be able to rely not only on experience, tactics and body language, but also a literal sense for the opponent. Not to mention any physical benefits. She wouldn't mind seeing those in action again, really, Ahsoka's got plenty of them.

Quill takes a second to return from her little reverie to her original misgivings, being immediately distrustful of any potential for telepathy. Besides, it's only one step removed from mind control. But just for now, she's willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Otherwise she would have to abandon a fellow warrior's company, and that's not a thought she's willing to entertain.

"Well, you better stay out of my brain," she declares like Ahsoka is on probation and takes a generous sip of her drink, murmuring "It's cramped enough already" into the glass.

Same.

( Her fingers dig into the not-sand and Kate rocks forward until her forehead hits her knees. )

Hate them things.

This is quite possibly the most important moment of their life. It is one that deserves a serious amount of thought; as much attention as Frisk can possibly provide to ensure that whatever they so choose is worthy of the title bestowed upon it. Triple Secret Password, Redux.

Their response is almost instant.

"Sans is a smelly doo doo head."

It's almost like they've had time to think about this before.

[What a strange question. Uncannily perceptive of her.]

Yes, we do. Why?

He can't really help it, so he don't try to. He laughs, low at first, and then with a bit more verve, shoulders shaking with amusement. It's perfect. It's perfect and immediate and they've probably given this ample thought and everything.

Perfect.

"That's, uh," he says, groping for a script that's, for once in his life, almost managed to escape him, "really childish."

But, hey; a bet is a bet. Fair and square.

"It's perfect."

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Event Post: Everyone Chill

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I can't even begin to comment on just how rude you are

you started it

oh yeah I started it, what with my "you touch people's SOULs" comment

well you did touch mine :^]

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what the fuck you suave trash

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( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)