WEEK 5

[killerwaves]

WEEK FIVE

21 Vacationers

The weekend sure was something, wasn't it? Tempers flared, explosions burst, and some were treated to an immersive sand bath experience. Come Monday at least, things seem quieter though not in the unnatural still way—the distortions on the islands have receded sometime in the night (with some impressive firework-like booms that may have stirred your sleep, at that; and the waves seem a little higher this morning) and the various amenities on the island have been made orderly again. Though, as always, some traces remain in the landscape; the waterfall looks like it has seen better days, though it's no longer in danger of coughing up debris on your head if looked at wrong.

This week like the rest brings new locations for you to explore, on Kakapo's Nest though it seems like only one of them really fits the vacation vibe. Hope you like snow!

!

WEATHER ALERT:

Bulletin:
Starting Monday morning and continuing throughout the week, pollen counts will be elevated. This is expected to last until late Thursday

!

TASKS:

Breathe Freely:
Enjoy the great outdoors with a fellow vacationer! It's never too late to appreciate nature.
(REWARD: RARE!)

(( Yes, only one task this week which is memshare with someone else. Have fun!
REMINDER: Task submissions are due Friday by 9 PM EST/6 PM PST. ))

(( OOC: Murder proposals are due by Tuesday at 4 PM EST / 1 PM PST, for the current week's murder, which is the last week of standard murder, week 6 being endgame!!

Also, as always, your admins can be contacted for a chat. ))

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Merlin - whole man disposal (cw: emotional abuse, manipulation)

[chrysaline]

[ For the observer, a beautiful scene:

The moon is full as the girl dashes her way up the hill. Her feet have carried her here so many times these past two years, but tonight her eyes are bright with tears rather than joy. The man waiting for her beneath the tree at the top watches her progress with interest; he flips back the hood of his cloak with a careless finger and smiles as she flings herself to the ground in front of him, her nails raking at the grass and dirt beneath them. ]

I was waiting for you. I knew you'd have something to say to me.

[ The things she wants to say are nearly choking her as they claw their way up from her throat, but what wins is: ]

Why did you trick me?!

I didn't trick you. I just didn't tell you.

How is that any different?!

[ It isn't, and he knows it isn't. But he looks at her with indulgence, as if she's the unreasonable one, and reaches out to caress her face. ] It's fine, Psyche. Nothing has changed— [ It is not fine. Everything has changed. For the first time since she's known him she bats his hand away from her. He is not entitled to console her for this choice he made himself, that he sprung on her like a trap. ]

But it has! Because of you, I... because of you, your highness, I've lied to Lady Medea. [ A misstep. She knows it instantly as the smile slips from his face; he's never liked their friendship. When he speaks again, it's cool and level, an adult scolding a child out of a tantrum. ]

You should be happy that your lover turned out to be the crown prince. What's with that attitude? Are you going to pretend that you don't know me now? [ His voice goes softer, more intimate. The coaxing voice he uses to whisper sweet things in her ear. ] I can play along… but remember the basement.

[ She does. No part of her can ever forget the basement. Her whole body freezes as a terror too old to be reasoned with sweeps through her, leaving her shivering and wordless. She can't draw breath to answer. The right move, this time. His expression gentles into a smile again. ]

You said that I was the one who saved you from that hell. Come here, Psyche. [ Does she obey? Or is it simply that her body collapses into his arms, a puppet with the strings cut? It doesn't matter. This time, either would be right. That smile presses against against her hair as he rewards her with a soft kiss to the top of the head. ] Good. Look at you. How could you go on living without me?

[ He's right. She knows he's right. Without him, all she's ever had is darkness. A god that does not answer. She can't go back, and so she holds on desperately, hiding her face against his chest. She can't go back, but how does she go on from here?

There is darkness in all directions. From one side wafts the acrid scent of disinfectant and from the other, the iron tang of blood. Which way, Magus of Flowers? ]

[mysticpowerbroker]

[ Witnessing memories isn't exactly a novel experience for him.

Not in the slightest.

And emotions...things like those are left to humans, yes? Watching as the blond-haired woman flings herself (unnecessarily) to the ground, there's nothing to be said. He's just simply mostly watching, instead of thinking.

Or perhaps, that is how it is at first.

So much darkness. So much filth spilling from that man's mouth, his actions vile and wretched, when the best kindness this man could afford was to (die) be silent, and leave her. Yet, this too is humanity, isn't it? He doesn't wonder with any sense of amusement. He blinks again.

Maybe he will see a satisfactory ending, yet he is well aware that he may see the opposite of exactly that.

Curious to see its conclusion, Merlin walks without hesitation first towards the scent of blood. ]

cw: blood, death, suicidal ideation, torture mention, i am genuinely regret rn

[chrysaline]

[ Another starry night, a sprawling garden. There are twelve in the imperial palaces but this one is theirs, and so she knew without needing to be told that it would be here. The dark-haired woman kneels beside her own bloodied body, watching as poison wracks her, killing her faster than the handful of trivial wounds: eye, arm, side, more that she surely hasn't seen yet. But even on the verge of death the other woman is still strong. She reaches up to seize the front of her companion's dress and yanks her forcefully down until their faces nearly touch. ]

Why are you so surprised? They were all ordered to come here and kill you. This was supposed to be your grave. So, how does it feel to have escaped death thanks to being blessed by the guardian deity? Doesn't it seem like I was destined to be sacrificed in your place from the very beginning?

[ The words go through her like a knife of their own. Tears sting her eyes even before she digs her nails into her cut palm. ]

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Lady Medea. I'm sorry...

What about? What are you sorry about?

[ What is she sorry about? Where does she begin?

That she knew what he was, but didn't allow herself to see it? The bodies of five knights lie scattered on the ground around them like fallen leaves. It would never taken five knights to kill Psyche Callista, who is small and weak and has never held a weapon in her life. But Eros knows what she is, as she knows what he is. She knows without needing to be told what his intention must have been. Two knights to hold her down. Two knights to wield blades. One knight for surety, because Eros is nothing if not meticulous. Five would be enough to ensure that she would exhaust her healing, or her will to heal, had this really been her.

She's sorry that it wasn't her. She's sorry that she wasn't faster. She's sorry for her worthless, powerless blessing that isn't strong enough to stop even one person from dying in front of her. She's sorry that she ever prayed. She's sorry that she ever allowed herself to dream of leaving the basement. She's sorry that she ever existed. Her frustrated tears fall on the woman beneath her and she slams her wounded palm against the ground beside them. ]

I don't want to be weak at a time like this!

[ She shouldn't have wished for her own death. She should have wished to be stronger. So she prays one more time, like a challenge, to the god who has only ever acknowledged her once in her life in this bitter, twisted form.

Give me just one more chance. I won't run away, no matter how much I want to. I will face all of it head-on. I will...

The golden light Merlin saw once before kindles around her, and then ignites, a spark of divinity becoming a conflagration. It burns away the poisons, and the wounds close, leaving unmarred skin. It banishes the darkness around them until the dark-haired woman finally tumbles, exhausted, onto her own body. A moment longer still before the other lifts a hand and gently strokes her hair.

This is the way forward. Stronger. Strong enough that no one she loves will ever be hurt in front of her again. Strong enough to not flinch away from what she doesn't want to see. Strong enough to walk forward without hesitation. The path ahead is clear and certain, the scent of lamp oil and cool stone. Proceed? ]

[mysticpowerbroker]

[ Merlin can't say he anticipated walking into a scene that displays essentially a myriad disastrous elements—including one rather broken amongst them. This other young woman with midnight hair must certainly be important to Psyche.

And still, the source of troubles remains one man. One who insists on being a thorn in Psyche's side.

Ah, evidence of the cruelty of individuals is without limit. The knights doubtlessly met their deserved ends here.

Yet, all the same, seeing Psyche blame herself is...

He allows the thought to trail off, witnessing the young woman try to pick herself up again, and accomplishing a feat well-deserving of a miracle. Strength through adversity, is it? There's something of a bit of relief. No wonder Psyche still managed to remain strong, even here. But still, there is a ways to go, isn't there? Merlin proceeds forward. ]

[chrysaline]

[ The path leads back to the basement. It always has. The blonde woman kneels at the bottom of stone steps in a pool of her mother's blood, cradling her body in her arms. The healing glow is already warm and steady around her, knitting broken bones and closing wounds. There are still traces of tears of relief on the young woman's face. But the tumultuous emotions of the earlier memories are gone, leaving in their wake a calm like an ocean that goes deep, deep, deep, deep.

She only just arrived, but she needs no explanation for the scene in front of her. She knows every single person in this tableau much too well for that. Her mother is not lying injured in her arms because she fought to defend her daughter. She is here because Medea doesn't understand what it means to be Psyche Callista, and that to struggle is only to hurt the ones you love. Her father, standing stricken at the top of the steps, is frozen not just with fear for his wife, but fear of Imperial displeasure. Very possibly fear of his daughter and the power that marks her so distinctly and irrevocably inhuman. And Eros, his eyes shining with greed in the glow of her power, is the simplest of all of them. He sees what he wants within his reach. ]

I see your divinity has returned. So you were telling the truth when you said the problem was temporary.

...Yes, Your Highness.

[ Does he know her well enough to hear the distinction in the choice of title? Likely not. In another light it could be humorous. She, averting her eyes from his ugliness because after all those years in darkness she longed for something to believe in. And he, disinterested in seeing her as more than a pretty, vacuous vessel for what he desired.

"I can really be a god if I have you by my side," he'd said, and she had somehow heard that as praise. As affirmation that the power she never asked for could finally be of use. But he'd been so laughably direct with his avarice. And most laughable of all: that he could have been. If he had simply asked. She, in all the blind devotion of her love, would have let him drive the knife into her chest himself and loved him all the while.

She is too calm to feel stupid just in this moment. Perhaps just calm enough to find amusement in the fact that, in his own way, his foolishness ran just as deep. ]

I guess it had to come to this for me to realize. Let's break up. [ He begins to protest, truly shocked for the first time she's ever seen. But she cuts him off, as dismissive of him as he ever was of her. Is there a thrill to that? Has a little of his ugliness left this stain behind on her nature like fingerprints, like bruises? ] Your Highness. How can love grow in a relationship full of doubt? Let's break up.

[ She says it again so he cannot pretend not to have heard her the first time. There is no anger anymore, and in this moment, no hurt. Is it emptiness? The smile rises easily to her lips. He, too, has always smiled so easily although he too is empty. In this one moment perhaps they at last understand each other in perfection. ]

Get out of my house. Now.

[ He does. This retreat is not a victory, she knows. It is only the opening declaration of war. There was no safety in meekness, but neither is there safety in the baring of fangs like this. Not even an animal would be allowed to live after striking a member of the Imperial family.

Let him try. If she's going to be hunted like an animal then she will fight like one, cornered and furious and clawing to the last. If not for herself — it is still hard to fight for herself — then for the people around her he has hurt to reach her. She is not a vessel. These powers are hers, these claws are her birthright. Human, animal, or monster: it no longer matters. She is herself and her will is her own, her body her own, her powers her own. She will not be seen as an object again. And she will never again be the tool he uses to hurt others. ]

[mysticpowerbroker]

[ Well. To say that this was within the realm of his expectations would be a lie.

Hearing her vocalize and take bold strides in the way that she does is more or less quite the development. That is, of course, putting it lightly.

Seeing the way the man stumbles in the face of it even makes him laugh.

Though, there is to be also emotional repercussions as well. When letting go of relationships, there is a sense of a loss on both ends. But, such as it is, some must be indeed let go in order to make proper strides forward. Like this, he can't say anything directly to her.

But, assuming that this is where the viewing of her memories ends, if he had anything to pass along to Psyche, it'd be the following:

'Congratulations, and good luck.' ]