( The door shuts behind you, and Lavi can gauge the breeze about him, and the distant sight of tall, tall towers below, flickering with strange, orange lights. His footing is unsteady. He blinks, and realizes he is now somewhere else. (If Lavi would like to revisit the hot air balloon, he is aware he can take the same path in future visits to achieve this.)
The door shuts behind you and you find yourself in an endless, golden poppy field in the middle of the night. There is a gentle drift of snow through the air that, strangely, does not leave you cold, nor does it pile up; it's just pretty, and makes up for the lack of stars in the cloudless sky.
Though you can keep awake, the poppies make you feel a little sleepy, and a little like this is half a dream.
Before you stands a massiveplay-place, poppies growing through the ball pit and petals spilling over the slides. It is lit by pink street lamps shaped like bell flowers. The play-place is styled like a cute, pastel castle, sized big enough for an adult to move through but clearly styled for children young. It has everything you can think of in the ideal jungle gym for a child: nets and bars to climb up; steps to stumble down; windows to peer out of; rocking ferris wheel-styled cars to crawl in. Nearby is a smooth picnic tables for families to sit at.
One archway reads exit in a cute font, and beneath it is a set of familiar elevator doors: it seems you can leave anytime you'd like.
They do not look like they're not doing too hot (ha ha ha), like, at all. It seems like they might need another day to recover and be presentable, but here you are. There is evidence of burns peeking out from their robes.
Mikaela is nowhere to be seen. )
My... Well, if it isn't a member of the Chorus. And what business did you have with me...?
[ can we talk about how much he hates this? because he absolutely hates this; it's a nightmare that he has to navigate this less because of cramped spaces but more that the scenery reminds him of someone. someone he doesn't particularly have positive emotions towards...which is saying a lot since most of the emotions that he gets when he makes attempts to remember people is indifference.
it's not always indifference. there are "someones" that make him want to move, but he doesn't know how they are. elan knows. the only other time he has felt this is during his time with his other dormmates in amethyst. in fact, that's why he's here.
amethyst. apple. gabimaru. a ring.
his death because of this stupid game that a "father" wants to play but orchestrated by a creature that only seems heavenly. another death because the dissonance was too strong. though, if anyone asked him, there has never been anything wonderful about heaven or anything exclusively bad for hell. he has seen plenty on both sides of the table, (has he? he remembers—) so it's a bit ironic that he finds himself "standing" at another one. ]
I think we're due for a conversation.
[ because cars are not expressive, he'll stick to being a shadow silhouette until sika madu makes it difficult for him. (or he gets the need to interact physically.) his shadow crosses their arms and shifts his weight onto one leg. ]
You've spent a lot of time talking to the others here, and so have I, but we've never had a chance to talk. [ ... ] If Chorus are still allowed at the table.
[ sorry if this was asked elsewhere and i was blind to not see it but also... pc land. also also, sika madu gets to see a side of lavi he doesn't show to anyone else. (maybe elan saw it for .5 seconds.)
cold, apathetic, and cynical. ]
What do you gain from all of this? This whole act that you put on for "Father"—it can't be out of some selfless desire.
[ he isn't blind to their injuries; they just don't concern him. maybe they deserve them, he hasn't had a reason to think otherwise. ]
I've never met an altruist who couldn't claim that they weren't the slightest bit selfish.
[ yeah, so. unfortunately for everyone here, i am playing a different kind of character in a specific kind of situation. while he could have been friendlier right out the gate, he isn't because of a certain apple committing ego death.
every day he is glad that his secret partner is elan. he can't imagine if it was anyone else. (but maybe that's just the secret bond talking...) ]
It might on the most surface level, but that still doesn't tell me what you gain from this.
How do you exactly fit into this narrative of a "Father" writes a "story" using people's lives like this? [ ... ] How many books do you need before you're satified?
I am forced here. This is the truth. Had I my way, I would not be inviting any of you, busying you with games of this nature. Myself and my child would be free. My children would be returned.
( Whether Lavi believes that, however... )
I cannot write the story. I am only an editor. ( He said as much to Solomon during trial, but Lavi was tragically dead during that. ) And that does make this all a bit more difficult, doesn't it? Could I rewrite this story, I would write myself out.
( Interesting wording, that. But they continue: )
. . . But I am only a Dramaturge. I am not Troupe. The Troupe can alter the story if they stop following the script, no? ... And I can only tweak, and edit, and iterate, little by little, until I can achieve the ending I require.
[ "they would write themselves out if they could."
( but no mention of whether they would include the rest of them. )
"the troupe can alter the story if they stop following the script..."
( but they are bound and punished for trying to reclaim who they are. )
"they wish to have everyone leave this safe and whole."
( you could argue that lavi, as a member of the chorus, is all of those things. hell, even the extras. )
lavi may be reaching with some of these statements, but he has dealt with beings who love to twist words in order to get off on technicalities. they'll bring back a loved one but as a monster who would consume them. promises with beings that believe themselves to be above humanity has never ended well. ]
"The ending I require"..? And where do we ultimately fit into that picture?
[ it's clear that they're being used in some capacity. ]
Hmmm . . . You know, I can't recall perfectly, but I do recall generally that Choruslings are a little bit difficult to deal with . . .
( Hmmm... )
Perhaps a hint will be enriching? Let's see . . . ( In a more teacherly tone, like Lavi is in grade school: ) Now, what have I been instructing you all to do thus far? It's something I've been fairly consistent about.
[ he's not a fan of the wording of that. lavi isn't too sure if he should press what they meant by inability to recall perfectly but, at the same time, not everyone is built like him. ...in theory. though there's no time to angst about the specifics of how many holes in his memories because, well, sika madu is very good at making it a topic. ]
A bit difficult to get others to learn about us when there are so many things I can't remember much about myself. Then having them also not fully remember who I am—it's like asking a cripple to walk.
[ his voice is a bit sharper as so does his shadow become. more jagged lines than rounded curves. of course, he's not about to mention how his own secretive nature is making it more of an uphill battle than it would be otherwise. ]
At least I've been lucky enough to have already found the person who is holding my secret and they happen to be a person I don't mind.
The Extras talk quite a bit, don't they? Though you may need to separate fact from fiction . . . and you used to have a headstone, too. ( The IDs, that is. ) Perhaps someone remembers what it used to say?
After all . . . Whether we like it or not, we are defined by and punished by how we are perceived by others. You may keep yourself a secret, ( generally speaking, ) but that only gives others more spaces to fill in with information that is false. Like believing you to be "a panda, or something."
[ oh if only he had his body he'd do something about that smile—but fine. lavi'll "count his blessings" whatever the fuck those actually are because if there's anyone going to benefit from the situation then it sure won't be lavi himself. if it's just a matter of separating truth from the lies...
everything he has learned here is so crystal clear in his mind that anyone only needs to ask and he'll be able to parrot it back. however, so much of his situation depends on others that it almost seems like a lost cause; truly punished by his role as a bookman.
...hmm. ]
Just how many edits are allowed for the Troupe?
You can't just edit something forever; it'll start to lose its integrity after a while—the original story lost to the edits. Especially when the main players are no longer interested in the story.
[ lavi doesn't expect a straight answer but he's willing to work with whatever bone gets thrown at him. ]
[ looks like neither one of them are particularly happy with the other's interpretation of the information that they've been given. let's put this on the books, but the amount of times that he has heard "sin", "sinner", and every other religious allegory in this place really makes him feel like he's in some twisted version of home.
( if he was to record this he would have abandoned it a long time ago. )
and as such, there are just a few things that he can't let go. the words that they pick... how things are phrased... the unsettled feeling that he felt before he died. even if he were to believe their plight with their children. ]
Is this story meant to entertain "Father" or is this story meant to absolve you of whatever sin it was that trapped you here in the first place?
[ whether entirely intentional or not, it feels like he's found the answer that he had been looking for this entire time. the empty validation to know that everything can't be taken at surface value; there isn't a timeline where lavi would have been happy with this truth.
especially not when they really had been honest with them—honest in the ways that lavi has experienced before with those who would raise the death and reunite them with their loved ones. corpses brought back to life but have lost all of their humanity and replaced with the desire to end it. this really is some twisted version of home and he hates it; thanks for never asking. ]
You're right. You have been quite honest with us this whole time. Your intent is to "escape" and we will be "whole, healthy, and safe" by the end.
It's the details of what happens in-between that you've left out and how you are defining the terms.
[ by some act of a higher being decidedly not god, lavi will not turn into a car and try to ram himself into sika madu because it'd be pointless. ]
( Lavi revs the engine and slams the accelerator, and the impact kills Elan on the spot. The sudden shatter of his ribcage and the gentle burst of his innards is sickening, and the remains of him smears across Lavi's hood. He'd hardly had the time for his expression to shift from surprised to distressed that Lavi would grind him beneath his tires, and it is with this same midway face that his upper torso hits the ground, the poppies gently rustling in the endless fields.
Elan is dead. And Lavi killed him.
When Lavi finally gets full grasp of himself, he will find himself back in the Backstage hallways, needing to platform his way back out. He will not be able to find a means to visit Sika Madu again on the same day. )
he didn't mean to... he killed him. there had been so much rage in him after hearing the way that sika madu so calmly talked about their stance on the matter. the horrid, ugly, disgusting truth that they told everyone. a truth that lavi couldn't truly find words to counter or find fault with. ( perspective. meanings read between the lines. ) he hates it. they (who?) spoke like that to.
cruel promises made to desperate people. a family that wished to only protect their own. he hates it all. every where he goes it's the same. blood, death elan, pain, sorrow...the numbness that it created inside of him. he hates it. but there were ones who were touch him elan. apple. louis. dehya.—allowed him to feel something. people amethyst who made him realize that his smiles weren't painted on his face.
lavi was never supposed to care; lavi was taught that he was supposed to live lightly, but lavi ended up caring too much and he has been punished for it. in his arms is a body and his hands are covered in the blood of—elan. who? elan. important. elan. partner. elan. friend? elan. elan. elan. there would be no way that he could have. he wouldn't have...never. he would have torn someone else apart in order to protect him. ( he wasn't supposed to care. they weren't supposed to matter. )
elan ceres.
the exact moment that lavi remembers who—where—he is, he sinks back into the ground as a shadow momentarily as he holds his head. he feels the heart he no longer has racing in his chest and the lungs that don't exist demanding air... yeah, he'll have to platform his way back, and he will, but if sika madu thinks that this would have changed lavi's feelings towards sika madu in their favor—it didn't. he clenches the jaw he no longer has and grinds the teeth that he has no need for as the loathing burns deep into his very soul.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
WEEK TWO, TUESDAY ❤︎ HOT AIR BALLOON → POPPY FIELD PLAYGROUND
The door shuts behind you and you find yourself in an endless, golden poppy field in the middle of the night. There is a gentle drift of snow through the air that, strangely, does not leave you cold, nor does it pile up; it's just pretty, and makes up for the lack of stars in the cloudless sky.
Though you can keep awake, the poppies make you feel a little sleepy, and a little like this is half a dream.
Before you stands a massive play-place, poppies growing through the ball pit and petals spilling over the slides. It is lit by pink street lamps shaped like bell flowers. The play-place is styled like a cute, pastel castle, sized big enough for an adult to move through but clearly styled for children young. It has everything you can think of in the ideal jungle gym for a child: nets and bars to climb up; steps to stumble down; windows to peer out of; rocking ferris wheel-styled cars to crawl in. Nearby is a smooth picnic tables for families to sit at.
One archway reads exit in a cute font, and beneath it is a set of familiar elevator doors: it seems you can leave anytime you'd like.
Sika Madu sits at one of the family tables, facing toward you (and not the table). They are in their six-winged (well, eight-winged), seraphic form.
They do not look like they're not doing too hot (ha ha ha), like, at all. It seems like they might need another day to recover and be presentable, but here you are. There is evidence of burns peeking out from their robes.
Mikaela is nowhere to be seen. )
My... Well, if it isn't a member of the Chorus. And what business did you have with me...?
no subject
it's not always indifference. there are "someones" that make him want to move, but he doesn't know how they are. elan knows. the only other time he has felt this is during his time with his other dormmates in amethyst. in fact, that's why he's here.
amethyst. apple. gabimaru. a ring.
his death because of this stupid game that a "father" wants to play but orchestrated by a creature that only seems heavenly. another death because the dissonance was too strong. though, if anyone asked him, there has never been anything wonderful about heaven or anything exclusively bad for hell. he has seen plenty on both sides of the table, (has he? he remembers—) so it's a bit ironic that he finds himself "standing" at another one. ]
I think we're due for a conversation.
[ because cars are not expressive, he'll stick to being a shadow silhouette until sika madu makes it difficult for him. (or he gets the need to interact physically.) his shadow crosses their arms and shifts his weight onto one leg. ]
You've spent a lot of time talking to the others here, and so have I, but we've never had a chance to talk. [ ... ] If Chorus are still allowed at the table.
no subject
You are just barely characters, at present. But, because you still are, in some sense, you remain generally within my jurisdiction.
( They tilt their head, querying. )
What is it you would like to discuss?
no subject
cold, apathetic, and cynical. ]
What do you gain from all of this? This whole act that you put on for "Father"—it can't be out of some selfless desire.
[ he isn't blind to their injuries; they just don't concern him. maybe they deserve them, he hasn't had a reason to think otherwise. ]
I've never met an altruist who couldn't claim that they weren't the slightest bit selfish.
no subject
Does that not coincide with your goals?
( That isn't quite answering the question, is it. )
no subject
every day he is glad that his secret partner is elan. he can't imagine if it was anyone else. (but maybe that's just the secret bond talking...) ]
It might on the most surface level, but that still doesn't tell me what you gain from this.
How do you exactly fit into this narrative of a "Father" writes a "story" using people's lives like this? [ ... ] How many books do you need before you're satified?
no subject
I am forced here. This is the truth. Had I my way, I would not be inviting any of you, busying you with games of this nature. Myself and my child would be free. My children would be returned.
( Whether Lavi believes that, however... )
I cannot write the story. I am only an editor. ( He said as much to Solomon during trial, but Lavi was tragically dead during that. ) And that does make this all a bit more difficult, doesn't it? Could I rewrite this story, I would write myself out.
( Interesting wording, that. But they continue: )
. . . But I am only a Dramaturge. I am not Troupe. The Troupe can alter the story if they stop following the script, no? ... And I can only tweak, and edit, and iterate, little by little, until I can achieve the ending I require.
no subject
( but no mention of whether they would include the rest of them. )
"the troupe can alter the story if they stop following the script..."
( but they are bound and punished for trying to reclaim who they are. )
"they wish to have everyone leave this safe and whole."
( you could argue that lavi, as a member of the chorus, is all of those things. hell, even the extras. )
lavi may be reaching with some of these statements, but he has dealt with beings who love to twist words in order to get off on technicalities. they'll bring back a loved one but as a monster who would consume them. promises with beings that believe themselves to be above humanity has never ended well. ]
"The ending I require"..? And where do we ultimately fit into that picture?
[ it's clear that they're being used in some capacity. ]
no subject
( Hmmm... )
Perhaps a hint will be enriching? Let's see . . . ( In a more teacherly tone, like Lavi is in grade school: ) Now, what have I been instructing you all to do thus far? It's something I've been fairly consistent about.
no subject
A bit difficult to get others to learn about us when there are so many things I can't remember much about myself. Then having them also not fully remember who I am—it's like asking a cripple to walk.
[ his voice is a bit sharper as so does his shadow become. more jagged lines than rounded curves. of course, he's not about to mention how his own secretive nature is making it more of an uphill battle than it would be otherwise. ]
At least I've been lucky enough to have already found the person who is holding my secret and they happen to be a person I don't mind.
[ unlike a particular apple. ]
no subject
What's the phrase? "Count your blessings"?
( They smile. )
The Extras talk quite a bit, don't they? Though you may need to separate fact from fiction . . . and you used to have a headstone, too. ( The IDs, that is. ) Perhaps someone remembers what it used to say?
After all . . . Whether we like it or not, we are defined by and punished by how we are perceived by others. You may keep yourself a secret, ( generally speaking, ) but that only gives others more spaces to fill in with information that is false. Like believing you to be "a panda, or something."
no subject
everything he has learned here is so crystal clear in his mind that anyone only needs to ask and he'll be able to parrot it back. however, so much of his situation depends on others that it almost seems like a lost cause; truly punished by his role as a bookman.
...hmm. ]
Just how many edits are allowed for the Troupe?
You can't just edit something forever; it'll start to lose its integrity after a while—the original story lost to the edits. Especially when the main players are no longer interested in the story.
[ lavi doesn't expect a straight answer but he's willing to work with whatever bone gets thrown at him. ]
no subject
Though Sika smiles, it seems as if they aren't fully pleased with that interpretation. )
... That the story ends the way it does is my sin, and so I will edit it until the ending is what it should have been.
That the Troupe is tired does not matter. This story matters to those to whom this tale is dedicated. That is all.
not here but understand this is how he feels inside
no subject
( if he was to record this he would have abandoned it a long time ago. )
and as such, there are just a few things that he can't let go. the words that they pick... how things are phrased... the unsettled feeling that he felt before he died. even if he were to believe their plight with their children. ]
Is this story meant to entertain "Father" or is this story meant to absolve you of whatever sin it was that trapped you here in the first place?
no subject
It's meant to be a warning. "Listen to Father, or else this will happen to you."
Father feels no joy, and my sins cannot be forgiven. Nor should they be. Nor do I care them to be. Oblivion would be a mercy.
And so, instead, I am here.
( Because Father would never grant them mercy. And they're gonna make that everybody's problem apparently!!! )
no subject
especially not when they really had been honest with them—honest in the ways that lavi has experienced before with those who would raise the death and reunite them with their loved ones. corpses brought back to life but have lost all of their humanity and replaced with the desire to end it. this really is some twisted version of home and he hates it; thanks for never asking. ]
You're right. You have been quite honest with us this whole time. Your intent is to "escape" and we will be "whole, healthy, and safe" by the end.
It's the details of what happens in-between that you've left out and how you are defining the terms.
[ by some act of a higher being decidedly not god, lavi will not turn into a car and try to ram himself into sika madu because it'd be pointless. ]
cw slight gore
Elan is dead. And Lavi killed him.
When Lavi finally gets full grasp of himself, he will find himself back in the Backstage hallways, needing to platform his way back out. He will not be able to find a means to visit Sika Madu again on the same day. )
not here but also here. this is all i got....
anyway real comment for future readers...
he didn't mean to... he killed him. there had been so much rage in him after hearing the way that sika madu so calmly talked about their stance on the matter. the horrid, ugly, disgusting truth that they told everyone. a truth that lavi couldn't truly find words to counter or find fault with. ( perspective. meanings read between the lines. ) he hates it. they (who?) spoke like that to.
cruel promises made to desperate people. a family that wished to only protect their own. he hates it all. every where he goes it's the same. blood, death elan, pain, sorrow...the numbness that it created inside of him. he hates it. but there were ones who were touch him elan. apple. louis. dehya.—allowed him to feel something. people amethyst who made him realize that his smiles weren't painted on his face.
lavi was never supposed to care; lavi was taught that he was supposed to live lightly, but lavi ended up caring too much and he has been punished for it. in his arms is a body and his hands are covered in the blood of—elan. who? elan. important. elan. partner. elan. friend? elan. elan. elan. there would be no way that he could have. he wouldn't have...never. he would have torn someone else apart in order to protect him. ( he wasn't supposed to care. they weren't supposed to matter. )
elan ceres.
the exact moment that lavi remembers who—where—he is, he sinks back into the ground as a shadow momentarily as he holds his head. he feels the heart he no longer has racing in his chest and the lungs that don't exist demanding air... yeah, he'll have to platform his way back, and he will, but if sika madu thinks that this would have changed lavi's feelings towards sika madu in their favor—it didn't. he clenches the jaw he no longer has and grinds the teeth that he has no need for as the loathing burns deep into his very soul.
lavi will remember this. ]