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ximilialog2022-12-06 05:02 pm
- ! event log,
- ace attorney: yujin mikotoba,
- adventure time: finn mertens,
- altered carbon: takeshi kovacs,
- doom patrol: rita farr,
- fullmetal alchemist: edward elric,
- grishaverse: the darkling,
- gundam seed/destiny: yzak jule,
- marvel comics: gwen stacy,
- one piece: rosinante donquixote,
- original: clayton epps,
- pacific rim: newton geiszler,
- red vs blue: felix,
- star trek aos: leonard mccoy,
- the iliad: helen,
- the old guard: andromache,
- the old guard: yusuf al-kaysani,
- the witcher: yennefer of vengerberg,
- transformers: minimus ambus,
- wheel of time: rand al'thor,
- yakuza: zhao tianyou
STATION LOG.03
● ● ● S T A T I O N 3 . 0
1.0 For those of you who often cross through the sunlight room to break paths into other areas of the station, you may notice some changes in the optics around you. Where the trees had once reflected images of a lush foliage of a typical temperate planet during its warmest season, now a series of various conifers (firs, spruce, cedars, hemlocks, pines) in deep greens and soft, spiky, needle-like foliage takes its place, scattered across your field of vision in no particular pattern. Snowflakes glisten and glitter at the tips like miniature crystals, catching the simulated wintery sunlight above from a crisp, cloudless blue sky.
Follow the path into the trees and you’ll find that the room’s detritus is now covered in a fluffy white blanket of snow not yet trodden over: perfect for your footprints. It even feels just a little cooler, brisker — each breath you exhale coming out in a cloud of fog, and yet it never feels uncomfortable enough to require any sort of winter gear.
When you’ve cleared the patch of forest, on the far end of the room is a snow-covered meadow just waiting to be populated with snow angels and maybe a family of snow-people. Grab some twigs for arms and a handful of pebbles for facial features, and you’re set to spend a couple of hours playing in the snow. The rest of the sunlight room has become something of a winter wonderland: the shallow river beneath the bridge has frozen over into ice, shiny and clear, leading into a small pond perfect for sliding across even if you’re lacking skates.
The atmosphere in the room makes for a pleasant in-between to the rest of the station’s rooms, or simply a pleasant space to chill (heh) for a little while.
2.0 During the early days of the festive month, Viveca’s voice will broadcast across every Orber’s communications device, announcing the reappearance of a box to be left near the mess hall. The purpose, she explains, is for any Orber feeling the holiday spirit and wanting to spread a little joy and cheer by way of a surprise gift. Those who have been on the station last holiday season will be familiar enough with what might be becoming a new tradition.
Anyone is welcome, of course, to put in a gift request for another Orber on the station. The intention is to spread good cheer and encourage team-bonding, and honestly? It’s just a nice thing to do. Once in a while you might come across another fellow Orber on their way to the box, or you might find someone already there, inputting their request onto the box’s screen. Don’t peek (or do, we’re not your mother) or you might ruin the surprise!
3.0 This month’s supply drop arrives like Christmas itself is here. There are a lot of reds, golds, greens, and blues, and the scents are unmistakably festive.
It consists of decorations and a tree to be put somewhere and dressed with all of the trimmings. There is also a crate full of small bags of baking and cooking ingredients, as well as a modest array of equally quaint glass bottles filled with holiday-specific spices: cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, to name a few. These will need to be taken to the kitchens, of course, for those who have a knack for baking.
4.0 And of course the simulation room will be decked out like a cozy cottage on Christmas morning, reusing a template from the Doctor and Clara and may be familiar to some of you from last year, with a fire crackling in the fireplace, the scents of cinnamon and clove in the air, as well as the distant sound of traditional holiday songs being played over an antique radio in one corner of the room. There is also a tree decorated in a variety of kitschy ornaments like Santa Claus on a T-Rex, and bears in tutus. There are also ornaments representing every orber present on the station, updated to match the newcomers while also leaving those who have come and gone in the past.
There are unmarked gift boxes within the room filled with toys and games such as plastic dinosaurs and robots that come to life when you wind them up. There is also no shortage of ridiculous squeaky alien toys, marshmallow launchers, and stuffed plushies. Of course, there are also boxes left under the tree for anyone who enters the simulation room with their name neatly printed on a tag containing an ugly Christmas sweater inside, one that can be worn as long as you’re here, and has been specially picked for you.
A week into December, you may be going about your business, holding fast to your daily routines or embracing the slight changes of the festive season. Perhaps you’re in the kitchen making breakfast, in the training room just finishing your morning workout, or taking a shower to get ready for the day … when suddenly, you hear it:
Olivia’s bright, sweet echo of a voice is all you hear before the power instantly cuts off on the station.
5.0 It's in that split second that the stovetops stop functioning, the water from your showerhead no longer flows, and the lights shuts off leaving you standing in complete darkness.
There’s the quiet hum of a backup power source being turned on, but it is only enough to keep the station’s most vital functions running, supplying oxygen into the too-quiet spaces — everything else is just gone. All you can do from here is to try your best to manage: take care of any produce in the kitchen so it won’t spoil; dry yourself off if you had been showering (and hope your hair isn’t full of unwashed shampoo); perhaps find someone else to navigate the hallways with … or bump into them if neither of you can see clearly.
The blackout will last for about a day and a half before, just as suddenly as the power went off, it comes back.
6.0 But the glitches don’t end here. Throughout the days that follow, you will notice that rooms lock unexpectedly; suddenly, you might be trapped in your room, or the laboratory, or the Ximusic room, unable to leave and unable to force the door to open as no powers will work on the station’s structures. Maybe you’ll accept your temporary fate and settle in for a long wait, maybe with someone else in the room as your companion. Or maybe you’ll try to alert others and hope that someone has some abilities that could be used to spring you free.
It also appears that Olivia has managed to affect the earpieces, too: messages that you send to others might disappear altogether, never making it to the recipient; or other messages might accidentally make it to someone else entirely.
7.0 For anyone using the simulation room, either for seasonal cheer or for any other purpose, you might suddenly find it changing around you. The room will turn dark for a moment before it focuses again into a room a few of you might be familiar with: it's the room where the orbs are currently being kept, in the North Wing.
The room, however, is devoid of any such things. Only a single figure can be seen, an older man seated in the middle of the room and sagging under his own weight. Behind him, there is a trail of blood left smeared across the floor.
His voice trails off. Next to him, a faint form shimmers from the air. She resembles splintered glass, reflecting pink and turquoise off her uneven, sharp edges. Her humanoid form takes a step forward and pauses by the man.
Her voice lacks the echo. Instead there is a sharper quality to the cadence of her speech, as if her programming lacks the same level of refinement that she has now.
Still in the simulation, her form suddenly turns to look at you, her glassy eyes completely empty.
Her sweet and echo-like voice drifts around you.
Her lips turn up into the ghost of a smile, and her glassy form seems to glimmer in other colours, too: gold, white, red, green, blue, orange, violet.
By contrast, the darkness around you suddenly feels suffocating as the scene starts to fade away ... and it only takes you seconds to realize that something else is fading away too: your oxygen. You feel light-headed, suddenly gasping for breath —
With precious few minutes left, you might try and scramble to the door and hope it hasn't been locked. Perhaps someone has been with you this entire time, which would be lucky. Or if you're alone, you might try and save your breath until you can try and contact someone over the network and hope that they — whoever it is that receives your message — can get to you in time.
Some time later, Viveca’s familiar voice sounds in your earpiece.
And also — those who have any kind of powers or magic, I’d appreciate you coming, too. Not to help with Olivia, but the orb. Degar… well. Let’s say the orbs are growing in power, the more of them there are. Please, if you can, help him with them.”
After the message ends, some may notice the door to the North Wing is already open ... and even if you don’t intend to help, maybe you want to go in and take a look around.
8.0 The room you first step into is long and rectangular, and without any furniture to clutter the space — those who have not been to the North Wing will recognise it as the same room in Olivia’s simulation. In the room, you’ll find a large sphere, crackling sharply with magical energy front and centre and surrounded by open circulation, perhaps for its own protection — the barrier of this object is so powerful that even those without any magical talent can feel it, almost like static electricity. A (slightly) closer look will yield several different colours of orbs, all swirling around each other in what looks like a frenzied dance.
If you choose to take a step closer, you’ll immediately sense it: there’s an awareness, a quiet whisper in your ear, or a chorus of indistinct words, reaching out to you.
The voices whisper in your ear, calling you by name; but if you go close enough to touch the sphere, you will be flung across the room, feeling the force of all that magic course through you like electric shocks.
9.0 The other rooms in the North Wing aren’t nearly as exciting: the next room appears to have nothing of note except for a set of chairs lined up along the sides of the room, and then one larger one in the middle — a mechanical armchair with several different wires running directly into it.
On both sides of this space you’ll find maintenance rooms directly adjacent: one for the station itself, and one for the AI. Both of these rooms are filled with advanced machinery and screens — and one thing to note is how … clean the one designated for station maintenance seems to be. Not a fleck of dust to be found anywhere. On the other hand, the AI maintenance room feels quieter, looks darker … but as soon as anyone walks in, they’ll find a little cleaning robot beeping at them angrily. Whoops, it seems as though you’ve located the robot’s home, so make sure to not trail in any dirt. (This room is also spotless.)
10.0 Connected to the station maintenance room is the power and life support, a room with a large engine at its back, and closed pods on its sides. Most of them have a blue, glowing stripe on them; only one has a red one. But no matter how you try to open any of them, they don’t budge.
On the other side, connected to AI maintenance, is the old team’s living quarters. You count twenty beds in the room, half of which are divided into bunk beds on either side of the room… and most of them still have some items near them: clothes, a few books written in a language that your translators can’t seem to decipher, a soft elephant toy, and a photograph of all twenty people — a diverse mixture of women and men, older and younger, of different races, and makes; a few droids among them. Most notably, in the corner are Degar and Viveca, caught in the picture smiling at each other.
Only one of the beds is still in use — Degar’s bed, obviously; and the bed next to his doesn’t seem to have seen much use but the wall above it is decorated with the picture frames some of the team will remember from the room in the mayor’s penthouse in E-23b.
11.0 The last place to explore within the North Wing is a hexagonally shaped room that matches the ones teleporting food and other essentials onto the station. Indeed, in the middle of this one is an almost identical platform, though what it connects to is a little unclear — in any case, it doesn’t seem to be powered up right now. At the end of the room is a circular cut-out and a heavy-duty latch, currently locked into place to seal whatever is beyond it. It’s a door, of course, but it isn’t just any door … for anyone wondering about exits on this station, you’ll realize now where it’d been all along. There’s a control panel on the wall next to it but it requires a passcode … unfortunate for anyone who wanted a scenic tour outside of the station itself.
Those arriving at the North Wing to lend a hand will find Viveca waiting there for them, standing quiet and still by the door. She directs those who have arrived to help her towards the AI maintenance room, and instructs those with powers to remain in the orb containment hall and wait for Degar.
Once Rosinante, Gwen, Jyn, Cassian, Minimus, Newt, Matt, Yelena, Natasha, Itachi, Ryunosuke, Kazuma and Felix have all made it to the AI maintenance room (this time without the little cleaning robot in attendance), Viveca shuts the door, and nods to Rosinante.
Rosinante is quick to understand her meaning, and silence falls upon them, providing them with privacy that no one past these walls can penetrate ... not even a former AI.
Her tone belies her frustration and her android eyes burn with anger. She pauses and takes a breath more out of habit than out of any real need.
She pauses … and gives a wry smile.
With that, she instructs everyone to grab a seat (and as such, there happen to be enough for everyone: simple soft-backed computer chairs) before they get to work.
12.0 Those helping Viveca with the code will also be provided with their own screens, and a briefing on what the station’s coding looks like (an ever-changing multitude of complex code filled with encrypted sections) as well as a look into what the possible anomalies within it might resemble — they are small glitches, a number changing here or there, a combination that switches to another when you blink, before it flicks back. There’s no knowing how long you’ll be watching it all, and you may find it tedious… or perhaps intriguing, trying to isolate where the changes happen, why, with what frequency, and if there is a pattern to where Olivia appears, or when.
Meanwhile, Viveca herself sits next to you, or perhaps stands to the side, her eyes flickering; she needs no wires to connect to the station, and you may run into her in the code, seeing the way she shifts through it faster than you might have thought possible, constantly reinforcing the encryption that protects the station's most vulnerable and essential functions.
13.0 Once an anomaly has been detected, it will be the turn of those who have volunteered to be sent into the station’s systems. Viveca equips those crew members with a complicated-looking headpiece full of wires over them and begins to hook it into their earpieces. Once the set-up is complete and you are connected, you will feel a tug inside your stomach similar to the effects of the teleportation pad — but rather than your physical body being taken anywhere, it is your mind.
You arrive within what appears to be a large, round room. On the walls, code flickers in an endless stream of numbers that continuously switch and change. When you finally move, you notice that the code has changed ever-so-slightly; this is where stealth is of the essence. After all, the quieter and steadier you are, the less the code changes and the less chance there is that Olivia might be alerted to your presence.
As you slowly move around the room, doorways appear, seeming to correspond to different areas of the station. If you watch them for long enough, you’ll begin to detect a pattern of certain numbers that match those rooms — or do they?
Walking through that door leads you into yet another round room, then another, and then another. Doorways continue to open, close, and disappear.
A combination of 22-9-22-5-3-1 flashes in the code. Viveca’s voice comes through as a whisper.
With a pleasant ‘Right this way!’ lacking the usual Degar-like flourish, those of you helping with the orbs will be led around the large spherical container in the middle of the room, smaller bulbs of brightly glowing light in several different colours hovering within. There are also thick bands of metal wrapping around the otherwise clear container like ribbon, reflecting that crackling energy back into the sphere itself, a continuous feedback loop of the orb’s own energy. The group of magic users and teammates with power abilities: Geralt, Rand, Wei Wuxian, Yennefer, Rita, Sabriel, Helen, Rodimus, Joe, Yzak, Dante, Aleksander, Ziggy, Bucky, Zhao, and Ed might feel the room buzzing with a powerful magic they may find frighteningly familiar — and foreign all the same.
For those of the group who have been granted access into the orb containment room the last time it’d been open for visitors, you might immediately recognize how different the space looks, but especially the way it feels. There is power here, heavy enough that it seems to weigh every last atom in your body down towards an unseen gravitational pull that you can’t quite locate and calls out to you with tantalizing whispers. It almost feels like you might suffocate if you stay too long, and it’s a wonder how Degar spends almost all of his time here.
Some of you might notice the orbs within the container start to crackle and pulse with brighter light as though reacting to the Commander’s words. His usual attire consisting of his hooded cloak picks up some of the light and then dims again the moment he takes a step forward — as though his movement momentarily breaks some kind of agreement he has between him and the orbs.
14.0 He begins to speak again, but this time there’s a different air in his tone, something tired and serious and sure of what he’s about to explain next. The matter of these orbs isn’t something he takes lightly, after all — and that includes his role as Commander of the Ximilia too.
He lets out a breath and lifts both of his gloved hands up before him in demonstration of something.
“The metal bands are temporary, by the way. They’re a safety measure I’ve installed to keep you guys from getting any of the possible physical recoil that might occur. The orbs might try and speak to you but do your best to ignore them, okay?”
He’ll direct you all to spread around before him, get into your most comfortable pose, before he does the countdown to removing the first containment spell.
It’s instant the way the force of the orbs’ power hits you. And for thirty agonizingly slow seconds, you may start to hear a chorus of whispers and murmurs that grow louder and more insistent the more they begin to realize they’re free, the more the old spells continue to fall away like dust and debris. In this time, you might start to feel the effects of the orbs, angry and maniacal and eager for their own brand of vengeance.
15.0 Second after agonizing second passes before a voice rises above the rest of the commotion; it’s Degar, his presence clear and like a balm amongst the horrible discord of the orb’s voices.
If you manage to shake yourself out from the torture of voices and visions and tricks of your mind, you refocus your efforts, thinking of your magic, your power, and your ability viewed as ‘unnatural’ in your world. It takes incredible concentration but if you manage to see through the blast of bright light that isn’t the orbs’ but your own, you might catch the way Degar’s ‘sponge-gloves’ have become a conduit for your power before it seems to run through him and directly into the container, rattling against the metallic bars that groan and buck in protest, almost not strong enough against the team’s powers combined; it’s truly impressive. Degar seems almost unbothered by it; if anything, he seems to know exactly how to handle this capacity of power, where to focus it, how to direct it towards creating a coating over the orb’s containment unit like you are the palette, and he is the paintbrush. His cape glows as bright as the orbs, and for a split second, you could swear his eyes do too.
Between wisps of swirling dark magic from Wei Wuxian and the Darkling, and the deep violet of Yennefer’s magic, to the unseen sources of power from those such as Rita and Joe and Bucky, you begin to notice that the noise from the orbs speaking to you grows quieter and quieter until something snaps into place with an audible crack, like a large tree being split in two, and then the pleasant peal of a bell. It dings once, like an oven announcing a finished roast.
And then there’s silence, save for your own beating heart, before the low hum of the station’s engines start to make themselves apparent again, your ears readjusting to all of the ambient sounds you’d become so accustomed to.
You did it.
He looks more exhausted than ever, but any voices of concern are simply met with a quick hand-wave and an excuse that a few hours of real proper sleep will spring him back, good as new. He needs to start removing the metal ribbing, make sure everything is tip-top shape, and starts off to do just that, removing the gloves (which now look … a little worse for wear, full of burns and holes) and goggles. But the deed is done, and you can feel it in the room. It feels lighter now, easier to breathe in a way that has nothing to do with the oxygen levels, and it’s thanks in part to you.
F Y I
• If you have questions about any of the prompts or the mission in general, please direct them HERE.
• If characters want to speak face to face with Viveca or Degar (or both of them), they can do so HERE, or of course through the usual reach the residents page.
• And finally, your soundtrack for this log: ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪
no subject
Aiya, it's fine, I'm fine. [He pats Rand's hand with his own, offering up a tired smile.]
Don't worry...alright? Someone will come. [Then taking Rand's advice, he switches to text.]
Come and sit with me. The less energy spent, the better, right?
no subject
[ rand says, looking pretty worried. but he's not worried in the ways he thinks wei wuxian means. he's concerned for the well-being of someone who's been nothing but kind to him. he's worried about the situation with olivia, about what might be going on elsewhere on the station even now. he's worried about dying slow, in the dark, as anyone might be.
but there are worse ways to go, aren't there? one waits for him as it is, creeping in over the next months or years.
he relents, though, moving to sit more comfortably next to wei wuxian and switch over to text, himself. it's still a bit of a fumble, something new, but he manages. he tries very much not to think about how thin the air is feeling, and only getting thinner; tries to breathe shallow, use up less of it. ]
Light, I keep forgetting these things, [ is a thing he meant to think, not say, though at least not terribly embarrassing. ] What was it that you did?
no subject
It's called cultivation. [A beat and then] Demonic cultivation specifically. Most cultivators use spiritual energy but I use resentful energy. It's the same energy I used to make my talismans.
I sent it to go and get someone. Do you know what qi is? Life energy?
no subject
he looks backwards sharply, blurting out, ]
Demoni —
[ right, right. he cuts himself off with a frustrated sound, returning his focus to the earpiece. ]
What's resentful about it? [ but having seen that shadow, maybe the descriptor isn't as strange as it could be. ] No, not really.
no subject
And if Rand calls it magic he's going to do laps until he passes out and dies.]
Alright, are you ready for a crash course on cultivation? [He turns his head to grin at Rand.]
Everyone here has qi—life energy. You have it, I have it. Everyone. Different worlds and cultures may call it something else, but where I am from, it's qi. Every living thing contains qi, plants and animals too. Understand?
Cultivators are people who through rigorous physical training, and extensive meditation transform that qi into ling qi—spiritual energy. Spiritual energy allows them to enhance their senses and abilities, and to draw on the spiritual energies in the world.
Still following? [It's a good distraction, he hopes for both of them.]
no subject
That makes sense. I've never heard of anything like it, but that makes sense. It's as if the One Power were in everything, instead of only in the True Source.
[ the explanation is clear enough. and it answers the question he'd never dare ask, if there's anything like the corruption of saidin. there couldn't possibly be, described like this.
(saidin seems to gleam mockingly, nearly visible if he really focuses (and worsens his headache). he may as well be seeing it through glass, from miles off, for all the good seeing it does.)
(he does not immediately realize that he sent the last message, instead of just thinking it.) ]
no subject
It might be similar to spiritual energy even if it's formed differently. If this One Power resides only in some people though, then it isn't exactly the same. [Wei Wuxian responds, entirely unaware that he was not supposed to get that information.]
Now tell me, are you aware of spirits in your world? Ghosts and the unrestful dead, things like that?
no subject
In stories, mostly, but yeah.
no subject
Come on. Lie down and control your breathing. Lighten it as much as possible. Don't expend any energy.
[And then as if he hadn't even broken his stride, he continues] The dead also have their energy. Sometimes it is the anger that has stayed with them even in death. Sometimes it is the righteous fury of someone who died a sudden violent death. The weapons and armor of warriors are bathed in it, and it is sewn into the soil of every battlefield. That's resentful energy.
It's a cultivator's job to cleanse it because resentful energy can cause a lot of problems for people. Hauntings, curses, that sort of thing. But it's still an energy, just as manipulatable as any other. That is what demonic cultivation is. Manipulating resentful energy instead of spiritual energy.
[It's where he would stop the explanation normally, but the lack of oxygen doesn't have him thinking clearly. It's easy enough to let his memories get the best of him on the topic and continue, barely remembering he's speaking to someone he doesn't know well at all.]
Most of my family was dead at an enemy's hands in a war, and those who survived were at risk of succumbing to the same fate. Our enemy used demonic cultivation. He raised the dead as his soldiers. He raised our dead as his soldiers. We were going to lose.
So I taught myself demonic cultivation and I was better at it than him, and then we won the war.
[he stops again and blinks, seeming to realize all he's said.]
Ah, just in case you were wondering why I do it.
no subject
[ he snaps off irritably, though at least text probably takes some of the tone out of it. and just as well, because wei wuxian has done literally nothing to earn his ire. he regrets it almost as soon as he says it, then slowly moves to lie on his back. he guesses. he guesses!!!
and listens as he does, feeling a weird fascination with the subject. something like, and terribly unlike, channeling. a world where things are different. where he could've —
stupid. ]
Energy of the dead, instead of the living.
[ he suggests, half a question, half to say something and be clear that he's paying attention. he blinks at the ceiling when wei wuxian goes on, turning to look at him. light, what an awful thing. imagine not only suffering the loss of people he loves, people he's fought beside, but to have to face their corpses in combat. it's monstrous, worthy of the forsaken or the dark one. ]
I would've done the same thing.
[ the burn of anger, of horror, he feels at the thought doesn't really align with the life of a simple farmboy. but he feels echoes of familiarity in this. he remembers, and he doesn't remember. there was a great war before his desperate gambit to seal the dark one away, he'd lost countless good soldiers and fellow aes sedai, he'd —
in the dark room, rand al'thor shivers, then takes a long, deliberate moment to orient himself. rand al'thor, not lews therin. the snatches of a dead man's memories fade back into nothingness, just like last ones rand had seen. memories, or maybe just flickers of delirium as the oxygen runs out. ]
no subject
Unfortunately, not everyone there felt the same as you. [He leaves that there for now, still rightminded enough not to delve too much deeper.]
What about you? Do you have powers from this, what was it? True source?
no subject
[ comes reflexively, half-panicked, fast as a whip-crack. no, of course he doesn't. and for twenty years, he'd never had reason to believe otherwise. he'd never had reason to doubt. the reality of what he is barely feels like it can be possible, even now, even today. ]
I'm just a shepherd from the Two Rivers.
[ if he weren't feeling so light-headed, he'd think to clarify instead of naming a place wei wuxian isn't likely to have heard of. even in the westlands, few have heard of the two rivers, of emond's field, once you cross the taren. ]
I was never supposed to leave home. I never wanted to. But too many people died because of me already, and too many more would if I ever went back.
[ are the trollocs and fades that'd been chasing them all gone because of what he did? are they still there, ready to give chase again as soon as he returns? bad enough that he can channel, that he will go mad from it, that he will hurt the people around him. ]
I don't even know who's still alive and who isn't.
[ at home, which they had to flee before the dead had been counted; at fal dara, where he left his friends to confront an army without him. mat, left behind at tar valon. no, they have to be alright, all of the ta'veren forced to leave home, otherwise what was it all for? ]
no subject
There's a lot there that under better circumstances Wei Wuxian might think to ask some questions about, but his mind isn't at its best and mostly what he focuses on is the obvious pain in Rand's voice. His brow furrows in concern and he lets out a soft sound of understanding.]
I'm sorry. Is that what you're trying to change now? ["Change," not "fix," Wei Wuxian has his own views on whether what they're doing is "fixing" anything, but he keeps them to himself.]
no subject
or — it is sharp, but unintentionally; the air's getting so thin that the action hurts, makes him feel worse. he coughs, raising a hand to his chest, before getting his breathing back under control, smothering instinctive, animal fear.
in other words: this is still not a great subject for keeping rand calm. but to be fair, wei wuxian had no way of knowing. ]
Who do you think that old man was?
[ the one who'd been talking to olivia.
an incredibly transparent change of subject, yes, but something he's more willing to talk about. ]
no subject
Probably a member of the last crew. [He says out loud, forgetting he's supposed to be texting and immediately cringing at the way it makes his chest ache.]
Have you died before, Rand? I'm sorry I shouldn't ask that, don't answer that. I don't usually ask things like that. I was only wondering because I did once. It was quicker than this, but this is more peaceful I think.
We won't die, I just can't help comparing. That's probably morbid, hmm? [He hadn't really felt it the first time. The fall should have turned his stomach and there should have been just a moment of pain on impact, but he was numb already, feeling nothing. The impact was only relief. But this isn't so bad. It's the knowing, he thinks, that makes it worse. The fact that he cares about living this time.
Someone will be here though. He knows they will.]
no subject
all of those things flash through his mind right now. and all of them are quickly bowled over by the next thing wei wuxian says. rand looks over to him, concern blooming across his face. ]
What do you mean, you've died?
no subject
Weird, right? It's one of the things about this place. When the Orbs give us a choice, they don't seem to care much whether we're alive or dead. It's easier to regret after death, hmm? No chance of fixing anything.
[He's rambling again, isn't he?] To answer your question, yes, I'm dead. Living on borrowed time and all of that. [He makes a soft snorting sound and reaches over to pat Rand's arm, flashing a weak smile his way.]
Don't worry about it though, I'm a very content dead person! It doesn't bother me.
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can't they? he finds himself wondering, deliriously. what on earth is he doing here if they can't? ]
That makes two of us, [ is the message sent accidentally, one he's barely aware of. he isn't dead, but his time is borrowed. min had said he'd die at the eye of the world. no, she hadn't said that; he'd assumed. but with the job of sealing the dark one done, as it must be, what else can his last scrap of life before he succumbs to the madness be called?
he swallows, looking to wei wuxian. nothing about him seems like a dead man, nothing at all. ]
Don't be daft. [ rand would claim to be unbothered, too, in his shoes. saying doesn't make it so, however. ] It'd bother anyone.
[ and that sparks a fresh resolve. maybe it'd be better if rand did die here, but wei wuxian shouldn't have to suffer that, not again. not when rand can do something about that. he reaches again for the Power, and this time he seizes on something, shuddering out a breath he can ill afford to waste as saidin fills him. he weaves blindly, instinctively: channeling cannot create new air where there is none, but he can gather the breathable air closer, concentrate it around the two of them. around wei wuxian, particularly. he barely keeps a hold of saidin as soon as the weave has been made, leaving his head spinning. it's not a solution, but it might buy them a few moments, ease their breathing for that space of time. ]
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And instead of commenting on it he only flashes Rand a knowing smile and then shakes his head.]
Sometimes, life is unbearable, filled with so much grief and sadness it's impossible to contain in one heart. And death is peaceful. Death means rest. [The morbidity and apparent hopelessness of the words are perhaps at odds with the image Wei Wuxian has presented to Rand thus far, and even now his smile doesn't flicker, though it softens into something tired.]
Still, I'm sorry about your death. I know peace isn't always a balm for a life cut far too short. [Though it is hardly himself he's thinking of.]
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I'm not dead yet.
[ the correction comes firm. and maybe the yet makes this sound more true than the lie earlier, as it is. he can only understand wei wuxian up to a point. he isn't dead yet; his death just looms large whenever he's still, creeps after his footsteps, sinks deeper into his bones every time he channels. he isn't dead yet; but he will be, soon enough.
death is peaceful, wei wuxian says. maybe it will be. maybe he'll feel the same. some part of him had hoped for that, an end, at the eye. better than the slow deterioration ahead of him. ]
So you can save your sympathy.
[ maybe not for long, though. maintaining the weave, holding it, is taking increasing amounts of his concentration and energy. ]
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And you should save yours on me. My death was a long time in coming and a relief at that.
[His eyes flicker again to whatever power Rand is working and he watches it in silence. Whatever he's doing has offered some relief, but he still feels so tired. Breathing aches. Maybe he should let himself drift off. It's not as though it would make a difference.]
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thwip!
helpful that they chose to sit together. one web-line snags both and yanks them out into the hall. gwen, straining, shoves the door marginally higher, and throws herself back. it slams shut. 〉
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more to the point, gwen saves them. the combination of the loud crashing and the rush of air is overwhelming by itself; rand gasps, losing his hold on the weave keeping oxygen close as saidin leaves him. he's near to passing out, himself, as the webbing pulls him as wei wuxian into the hall. the lights seem over-bright after the darkness of the room. he squints even as he takes gasping breaths, coughing as he rolls onto his side. he hasn't taken note of their savior yet, half-blind and taking in air like a drowning man. he does reach out sideways, though, making sure wei wuxian is nearby and also safe. ]
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You got my message. [He beams and without even looking at Rand, eyes glued to still Gwen, continues] Have you met Gwen yet? She's the best. I told you help would come.
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〈 wei wuxian pays no attention to rand; gwen is focused entirely on him.
crouching by rand, gwen guides him to sit and put his head between his knees to help with the lightheadedness. "guide" here meaning she rearranges his 6'2" frame like he weighs no more than a doll. she passes a hand in circular motion across his back. 〉
Deep breaths, 〈 she coaches. 〉 Make your exhale longer so you don't pass out. In. Out. That's it.
〈 over rand's head, she puts to wei wuxian, 〉 What the hell happened?
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fin.