Mayfield Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mayfield_mods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
welcome_rpg2012-07-05 12:36 am
mayfield_mods) wrote in welcome_rpg2012-07-05 12:36 am
Entry tags:
welcome to mayfield: day 4
[This carnival seems to be getting less and less maintained by the day. Your nerves aren't the only thing fallen apart: what were previously holes in the sky have expanded to cracks. What parts of the sky that haven't fallen into that strange, warping nothingness are full of brown smog-like clouds.
The carnival itself has become filthy, with trash and grease spots littered everywhere. The walls of the tents, wooden stands, and houses seem to be slightly melted, for lack of a better term. The holes of corrupted nothingness aren't confined to the sky anymore: pockets of nothing litter the carnival, shifting tears in the fabric of reality that hurt your eyes to look at.
A faint buzzing noise fills the air, making it difficult to concentrate. If you listen long enough, it starts to sound like voices. For your own sake, it's probably best not to listen to what they have to say.
You're also not alone here anymore, for those of you operating under the assumption that you ever really were. If you've been missing the friendly drones of Mayfield, fear no more, because scattered throughout the carnival are a few drone families seeing the sights, riding the rides and playing the games. Curiously, unlike the drones back home, these ones don't seem to notice you at all, acting as if you're not even there.
Also curiously: their features are warped nearly beyond recognition. Some are missing limbs or facial features; others appear to have had those features scrambled by Picasso's paintbrush, with mouths on their scalps or teeth on their fingers. Still other drones appear to be fused together at the wrist, or waist, or face. None of them seem to be any more aware of their deformity than they are of you.
...and yet, somehow, you can't shake the feeling that when you're not looking at them, they're looking at you.
New here? That's alright; your missing friends have had plenty of time to get acquainted, and they'll be happy to show you around. Just watch your step, because some of these old rides need some maintenance...]
OOC: If your character damages or affects the carnival or town in a noticeable and normally permanent way, please comment here.
no subject
...be there for him?
it's true he might have selfishly pursued whatever he sought out in this dark place if he believed he wouldn't have made it back, but -- it stood to reason that even if he managed to befall the same 'fate,' that he would return just as his brother did. he would be there when Cain came back; they'd return together, right--? no matter what happens to him, he would be there for his time-stalled twin. it was easy to rationalize his recklessness when that was sure to be the case.
but there is that fear in him... that fear, deep in his gut. that pit of cold ice that worried if there might not BE returning. this was not the same as Mayfield -- what... was left behind of his brother had... remained, in its unnatural state. his 'death' was not...
...
this train of thought has him feeling sick, and he's quick to shift his attention elsewhere. no... of course-- Ciel. of course he would be there for his brother... it seems that's all he's capable of in this wretched town. if-- ...when... he returns...
Abel will pick up the pieces... even if he never should have been broken apart to begin with. even if he had failed to prevent that terrible thing from happening as he'd promised. Mayfield loves to make him a liar, and yet -- he keeps on promising anyway, whole-heartedly desiring to keep his word and falling short over and over again regardless.
he draws the note down with his hands over hers, head falling in unison. it's the only thing he can do. this is all he's good for...? is this all he will ever truly be able to do for them?
...uselessly hold them when it's over through their pain, until... one day, that pain takes them away from him forever? the human spirit can only take so much before becoming broken in a way he's at a loss to fix...]
no subject
receive a soft poke on his forehead. Enough to cause a small flinch maybe, but definitely not enough for anything more. Her expression isn't just mildly reproachful anymore either, it's downright scolding with an open scowl (and... a pout?). Someone's taking her words in the wrong way again, and she lacks the means to clarify. Gosh stop mercilessly beating yourself for one second and look back at her, dummy!! Emotional and mental support here is priceless partially for the very reason because death is meaningless. The latter is a sad truth, but in order to stay whole while continuing to struggle on in such a tenuous environment, conceding and compromising some of one's own values has to be done - even at the cost of belittling the true worth of a life. Not an easy change to make by far, but if one is to stay firm and strong...
That he's got his head lowered and is holding a generally poor posture means she doesn't need to get on tip-toes to reach his eye level, but she will stand up straighter anyway to be in his face better- he does have a full foot over her. ...Geez. It's not the end of the line, and he's misunderstanding or underestimating just how important the act of 'picking up the pieces' can be. It's a hard and draining task, but that's just it: in standing back up and straightening out what remains, that's how people will then be able to move forward once more. Hnng. She can't explain this to him now, but she definitely doesn't want to keep seeing him so dejected and anguished. It blows just as hard to know that she might not be able to do anything about it, but...
He'll follow her out, right? So pull his focus back on the present and what's directly in front of him, if he would please! --Oh, we are totally going to revisit the subject again later, but once this chaos is behind us and everyone rests up to be in better shape. So will he able to snap out of it for even just a little bit, at least long enough for them to leave this place?]
no subject
she's right again, but that isn't surprising, is it? he doesn't grasp things as he should. he never has. his view of the world and the things in it is both extremely expansive and terribly narrow both at once... he's had a great deal of exposure to it, but in all the wrong ways. he took things in differently than others, and his lifespan has made things... odd, at best. it was partially the experiences he's lived, and partially the hands that guided him along the way... but...
...
he looks truly lost, and not simply in a dejected way. Abel is confused...
so, it's absolutely true. if she were to leave, then... he'd follow her. for now, she's inherited the mantle of 'keeper.' much as she likes picking up the strays, this time -- well. it's a little too accurate, isn't it? whether she likes it or not, where he goes and what he'll do from here on out until they find their way out of this hellhole is up to her. she's in his hands.
he'll be right behind her.]
no subject
His eyes are still clouded, but they're also on her now. She couldn't come up with any other recourse, not on such a short notice. So...
Lean on her for now, if he's become unable to walk for himself. Keep moving... for her, whatever that may be worth, if there really is absolutely nothing else.
She quietly breathes out and pulls back, but doesn't break eye contact. The very idea of looking away feels worrisome right now, somehow. Not when she takes a brief second to bend over either, to pick up the revolver that he's previously dropped. (She'll be holding it by the barrel.) After that however, the atmosphere loosens, the dull glow of the barrier disappears, and the Keys behind them are dispelled. She tilts sideways, ready to fall in step at his side this time, and reaches her free hand out to grasp onto his. Eyes soft but still gently urging, she gives the hold a small squeeze as she takes one step forward. It's not much, but any action will have to speak for her support. Mm, the small things can add up...
Ready to go, now? He may be following her, but she won't have him walk behind her. At least like that, he won't get lost again either?]
no subject
...it isn't the first time.
he remained still as she dispelled the barrier... retrieved the Peacekeeper and let the Keys dissolve. there's no threat of him running off any longer. but--
his eyes shift downward when her hand slides into his. it truly... is strange, isn't it--? in the end, when he loses these precious and invaluable things... he is surprised by what unexpectedly new, and decidedly precious things come in the darkest hours. the very first taught him purpose, how to be a human. how to love unconditionally, and whole-heartedly. how to trust in others, and...
...
what... is he going to learn this time? when the smoke clears... there will be a new lesson learned. right--? it might not feel like it now, but... surely...
she takes a step forward, goading him with her -- and he goes. trailing behind is in his nature... but -- walking side by side...
...he can fall into step like this, too. if she's here... if he puts it all in her hands, then-- there's nowhere else to go but 'forward' from here.]
no subject
But.
Trying. Falling. Being hurt. Standing back up. Healing. Learning. Growing. Trying again.
That's what living is about, isn't it? Humans... are resilient. In abandoning himself to hopelessness, he'd be completely overlooking the astounding amount of strength from the heart and spirit that can exist within the very ones he's sworn to protect. If this is something he ignores, then he can definitely learn about it. It won't be easy by far, but that could probably do, as good as any of a starting point.
They walk.
She'll give him his gun back later. May toss him a small hand towel and chide him to wipe his face too, redo his hair while he's at it, that sort of thing. He looks like a mess right now. Times are still hectic, but these small things ought to take no time at all.
'Forward'.
...Small miracles, hm?]
no subject
for someone who had her ability to speak stolen from her, Ciel has impressively managed to 'talk' regardless. she said what she needed to, all without ever really saying a word. she truly is an amazing person, however much she might contest as much herself. when his head has cleared -- whenever that will be, Abel will surely think as much himself.
setting aside that he... already does. she's only ever able to reinforce his high opinions of her, over and over again.
he's fallen into step easily beside her, his hand gripped in hers; it's a pathetic sight, isn't it? but it is what it is and neither of them can change it. he's let everything trickle away into a particular state where he won't think a thing at all, everything 'out of his hands' so to speak. given up permission to her to decide where they go from here when there's nothing left to do but wait, in his eyes. wait for what happens next.
...and pray it will be Cain's return, instead of losing -her- and Esther and everyone else, as well.]