-Missing- IC Thread: RP Cast Filled

[Banshee]

There was something in the back of her mind that had expected such a reaction, so she wasn't all too surprised by the development, though a frown still creased her face for a time. It didn't make much sense - of course, nothing did anymore, but this in particular...

Why weren't they upset? They had been so clearly back in the plaza. She hadn't...done anything. Not when it mattered.

There was the flash of an image in her mind, of an Inkling forcefully restrained as a dagger began to come down, and Alga's frown deepened with the sting of guilt in her stomach.

"...Sorry."

Her voice came out hoarse from sleep. No longer terrified or panicked. Just...tired.

Talk: The Word

 

[Aykorn]

Wade looked over to the door Rivera had pointed out to him.

Yeah. It was front door in his parents house. Like he'd seen a million times, albeit not in some 'flashback mind world'.

He actually took a moment to just look over everything in the room and sort out what had changed about it. It was sort of a memory lane except for how uncanny some of the details felt. He had just been home a few months ago, and this looked just like home but with some things missing or less worn down. Just slightly and noticeably off.

Wade shifted his eyes around, curious by how quiet the house got. The day that had shattered his life was now a peaceful afternoon. Wow.

This was all from his memories. This was him. Almost.

Wade was still gripping the mirror Rivera handed him. It wasn't supposed to be sitting in the hall in this memory. He was trying to remember what memory it came from, but... he was starting to think he'd never seen a mirror exactly like this in his life. What was this?

Examine: Mirror

 

[ReedRGale]

Wade ==> Examine: Mirror

It seemed almost otherworldly. And yet, at the same time, so real. That was probably it... something about the mirror seemed like it was more real than the things around it. And not just because where he was as a total creation of his mind. No... this mirror held the weight of seeing things for what they were.

Its perfect crystal seemed unmar-able. He'd passed a finger over the reflection simply because of temptation, but its surface left no streak. No fingerprints were left on its handle either. It was perfect. Beautiful. And though it reflected simple reality, it seemed to carry a weight with it.

Weird.

 

[VeryButter]

Magabelle stared ahead, unsure. Not just of how to get to Octo Valley, but how to get to home. And how she even got herself in this situation. And why she couldn't control herself.

She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment and letting her mouth crinkle as she tried to keep whatever disappointment and anger and emotions in. She needed to be safe first. And yet, home was barely an option...

...That's it. Bethany. Bethany was her neighbour, and while she didn't know how safe it really would be there, she just needed to deal with everything. Figure out what she was doing next. And she could check home on the way.

Opening her eyes again, she started to walk, intent on getting to her destination. She just hoped they were still there.

Go To: Bethany's House

 

[ReedRGale]

@Hesoca

Spoiler: Maximillian de Re

GIVE IT BACK AND GO AWAY

The void quaked. As it should. But the mirror remained in place.

Max fought with it, clawing at it, attempting to mar its reflective surface in any way. He scraped and cut urging with each motion a single desire: Give it back!

The room returned one strike at a time. With each determined blow, a chunk of the room vomited from the nothing, the floorboards creaking as they returned to Max’s perception.

That wasn’t enough though. That wasn’t nearly enough. He wanted it back. All of it.

First the room. The floor was back and gravity and the desk and the posters and the everything. Glancing blow after glancing blow, unable to harm the mirror, and yet returning more reality.

But wasn’t all. Max’s fists, with each strike became more powerful. Bigger. That’s right. That’s right. He wasn’t some child anymore. He was an adult. A strong adult. A strong hero.

With that last mental puzzle piece, he was wearing the suit. Pristine and beautiful, its emblem emblazoned its purpose proudly. Great Hero. The greatest.

“Go away!” he shouted, more confidently now, striking the mirror head on with all he had. Everything was back. He had taken it back. And yet, the mirror stood. And in its face was the same bawling child, striking at the other side of the reflection, looking sadder and more pathetic with each painful strike.

He had claimed it all back. And yet he could not destroy this mirror.

Dammit... DAMMIT!

@Banshee

Spoiler: Alga Sargasso

Alga ==> Talk

"...Sorry," Alga said.

‘Sorry.’ A word that never conveys enough. And yet it’s all we have.

The Word, to contrast, seemed to always convey what it wanted.

"¿ɹoɟ ʇɐɥM"

It seemed confused at her apology. She had failed, hadn't she?

Alga's brow furrowed and she cast her gaze downwards.

"I...I couldn't do it. Enter that mirror a-and...save Lili. I'm...sorry."

"¿lǝǝɟ noʎ op ʍoɥ 'ʍou ʇnq ˙suǝddɐɥ ɹǝʌǝ ʎlǝɹɐɹ ɥɔns ʇnq 'ɟlǝsɹnoʎ ǝɯoɔɹǝʌo plnoʍ noʎ pǝdoɥ pɐɥ I ˙pǝʇuᴉoddɐsᴉp ʎɹǝʌ uǝʌǝ ʇou ɯɐ I ˙ǝʌᴉʇɐƃoɹǝɹd ɹnoʎ sɐʍ ʇɐɥ┴"

She listened and chewed her lip silently once the question was posed. How...did she feel? Sad, yes. Guilty, definitely. Maybe not quite as self-deprecating as before, but...well. The Word had hoped for something other than what had happened. It...felt like a failure on her part. It was a failure.

"...I'm tired." And that was as much the truth as everything else she was feeling.

The Word changed positions on the bed so it could look clearer through the mirror.

"˙ǝǝs oʇ ʇuɐʍ ʇ,uop noʎ sƃuᴉɥʇ ʎllɐᴉɔǝdsƎ ˙ʍou uoᴉsᴉʌ ɹnoʎ puoʎǝq sᴉ ƃuᴉɥʇoN ˙ɹǝǝS 'ǝǝs llᴉʍ noʎ 'puᴉɯ ɹnoʎ sǝssɐd ɹǝʌǝ ʇɥƃnoɥʇ ǝɥʇ ɟᴉ ʇɐɥʇ ʍouʞ ʇnq ˙ƃuᴉɥʇʎuɐ ʇnoqɐ ʎɹɹoʍ oʇ pǝǝu oN ˙ʍou ǝɯoɥ ǝɹ,noʎ ʇnq ˙ƃuᴉʎɹʇ uǝǝq ǝʌɐɥ sʎɐp ʍǝɟ ʇsɐl ǝɥ┴"

"...That...doesn't make me feel much better..."

Seer...? Well, it wasn't too bad of a nickname, she guessed. Was kind of fancy...

Alga sighed and shifted under the blankets, looking The Word over with just a smidge more calm in her expression. There was nothing more she really had to do right now, right? The Word had said she didn't need to worry. That was about as good as it got.

But, she did wonder...

"What does...that mean? When...you said there was, uhm...'nothing beyond my vision'?"

She could take a guess, but it sounded...kind of silly.

"˙ɹǝᴉsɐǝ sᴉ ʎʇᴉlɐǝɹun ǝqʎɐW ˙ʇou ɹO ˙ǝɔuǝʇsᴉxǝ uᴉ ƃuᴉɥʇʎu∀ ˙ǝǝs oʇ ʇuɐʍ noʎ ƃuᴉɥʇǝɯos ɟo ʞuᴉɥ┴"

Anything in existence? ...Well, it was worth a shot at least. But what did she even think about...?

She wound up eventually settling for some far off ruins she had heard about during one of her history classes in school. They weren't all too special and the book hadn't had much to offer, but they had looked pretty enough. It was a good enough test shot...

Shifting, Alga held the mirror a little closer and watched with a faint ember of curiosity.

The image changed. Or rather, not 'changed,' no, the reflection always seemed to be showing this image. More like if you'd shifted slightly and an optical illusion revealed itself. Always there, simply waiting for the right angle.

Alga had changed her perspective and now saw the old ruin. Nothing special. Not to her. Just as in the book. But there were archaeologists there, taking notes and chatting as they ate lunch a million miles away.

The Word...really hadn't been joking. She could actually see anything she set her mind to if she wanted. Again the question of why her popped onto the tip of her tongue, held back only by the knowledge of the results of the previous conversation concerning that same topic and the futility of bringing it up again.

In truth, she wasn't sure how to feel about it. It was definitely something that could be useful - astronomers would kill for this, she bet - but...what did she use it for? She didn't do much, and using it for little things felt like a waste...

"I...don't really know what t-to say..."

"'ɥʇƃuǝɹʇs ɹnoʎ sɐʍ ɹǝʌǝu ʇɐɥ┴" The Word stated, matter-of-factly. "˙ɥʇƃuǝɹʇs ɹnoʎ sᴉ sᴉɥ┴"


Confusion made her frown, letting go of the thought of the ruin to look at The Word more fully. "What...never was my strength? I-I don't get it..."

The Word began to twirl its mimicked tentacle. The act was a cute fidget, but weird to be seen in Alga's reflection.

It continued, scrawling on the mirror slowly, passing quickly fading messages. "˙ʎɐs ʇ,uop no⅄ ˙ǝǝs no⅄ ˙ɹɐǝɥ no⅄ ˙ǝɹnʇɐu ɹnoʎ uᴉ ʇou ǝɹɐ ǝsǝɥ┴ ˙ƃuᴉop ˙ƃuᴉʎɐS"

"...Ah."

There was no anger or offense in her tone at the statement. Really, there was no reason for there to be. That fact in particular was something she had known about herself for awhile now.

"W-Well, um..." She gestured a little awkwardly at the mirror once a moment of quiet had passed, uncertain of what exactly to say in the growing awkwardness of the situation. Finally, she simply settled on, "Th-Thanks, I guess... F-For this..."

It...admittedly felt like a small compensation to everything else she had been through, but it was still something useful. Who knew what she was going to do with it, though…

The image in the mirror grinned again. A slight grin, as usual, calm and composed. Then, it returned to the position Alga was laying in and the two were a reflection again.

@VeryButter

Spoiler: Magabelle Yyouni

Mag ==> Go To: Bethany’s House

Mag wanted to stop at her place but there was no time. Besides, who could say what danger could be waiting there? She hadn’t wanted to find out before and she certainly didn’t want to now.

So she headed straight for Beth’s, unsure of what protection our counsel she could offer, but it had to be better than none, right?

Deep Ones… how had she gotten into this mess? It’d all started with One and now it was coming back to him, huh?

The trek to Bethany’s didn’t take long--it wasn’t far from the Squid Sister’s house after all--but Meg felt a sense of unease waiting outside in the ruined streets, still needing urgent care after being struck hard by the quake. She rang the doorbell once. Then twice. Then knocked. And knocked. And pounded.

It took a few minutes, but Beth came to the door. Mag heard her footsteps just before the opening swung open and she was promptly dragged inside without a word.

Slamming the door, she asked, “what’s the situation?”

It was a lot. Mag was overwhelmed… so much had happened in so little time.

It all came spilling out. She explained what had happened. The attack following after training, Canchi’s loss, the movement to the Squid Sister’s house, the suitless there, her death, the loss of her pinky, the return, the deal with the suitless and finally coming here.

Beth listened intently as One peeked out from behind a corner.

“Do you know what the situation is in your house?” Beth asked, when Mag finished.

Mag shook her head. She had hidden her stone and she had heard a knock at the door and escaped. That was it. That was all.

Beth grimaced. “I was hoping we could just avoid any confrontation with my previous employer. They’ve mostly left One and me alone, however… I suppose we can’t afford anymore risks with… with what happened to Canchi.

“Perhaps he can be saved at a later date, however. For now your life is in their hands.” Beth pulled out a pistol of her own. “I intend to change that.

“One, dear, come along. This is a good opportunity for you. And you Mag? We can figure out the details of finding your friend later, but for now, it might be best if we struck quickly before they secure any sort of perimeter. I’m surprised you got away so easily. They must be short on manpower.

“You are, of course, free to stay here and wait. We won’t be long. I imagine you’ve had a stressful day, after all.”

((Have any questions? Did I misrepresent your character? Contact me via PM or Discord. Otherwise, please mind the deadline.))

Reminders:

Posts are Due: I think we've got this at this point.
Gm Post will be Made: Ibid.

Spoiler: Available Actions Reminder

Will be Responded to in GM Post:
Do Nothing [sit back and let the story happen; useful when it would be dangerous to do things]
Shadow [use this to try to stealthily follow a target. I'll make rolls on whether you succeed or not]
Ink / Go To ______ [use this to travel from one place to another relatively quickly; ink if it's something specific, like a kettle, Go To if it's a general area]
Research [some topic; need to be in a library or have access to a computer--shellphones don't count]
Sleep [use this when there's nothing left you can do, logically, in the day]
Follow [use this to just keep together with a party member or let an NPC take the lead]
Attack [use on people or objects you intend to hurt or break, specify any weapons you might be using]
Talk [use on people you want to start a conversation with]
Call [use on a person that you want to call (talk, but when not in the area)--or a item that has a number on it to contact someone you don't know]

Will be Responded to Immediately:
Conceal [use this action on something you intend to hide on your person]
Pick Up [use this action on something you want to hold onto]
Examine/Observe [use on things that you want more details on]
Use [use on things that you intend to use in some way--please specify how you're using it]

Search For [use like examine but for things that may or may not be there]
Hide [Insert Applicable Preposition] [use to conceal oneself, usually for a short amount of time]

 

[Hesoca]

With a guttural shout, Max hurled the mirror, encasing the room in its wild clamor. His breath was shallow; his eyes darted with old fury. At his side, his hands hung open; pain and ink oozed from their fingers.

His thoughts ran like quick burns. He'd tried everything, he'd put everything into destroying that mirror, and it was still here. Still thriving, still existing, still taunting him and touching his things and playing that crying image over and over and over-

He clawed at his hair in a half-scream; the pain of doing so merged with the throbbing of his hands. Peering down, he spotted the mirror lying face-up in the middle of his bed; the child inside stared at him with a face covered in globulous tears. Over and over and over with that godforsaken image of his crying. Why. Why that memory? Why did it have to be that...?

Shaking, he met the gaze of his reflection. Its tears welled with nostalgic suffering. It felt as if they were his own tears, running down his own cheeks. Crying and weak. Crying and small and-

NO. No, no, not again, not again. He wasn't a child. He wasn't a useless child.

With a breathless gasp, he pulled his eyes away from the reflection. Out of instinct, his hands reached for the cuffs of his sleeves; glancing down, he noticed them wrinkling and staining the suit. Stop, stop. He commanded himself to stop. Don't touch it. It was far too important to be bleeding over.

He needed to get out of it. Wear something different. Find his old clothes.

In a daze, he stepped over to his closet and threw the door open. Inside, there was... nothing. No shirts, no jackets. Nothing at all.

... Well, alright. He probably had a change of clothes in his drawers. Silent, he wandered pass the mirror to the furniture, pulled out the drawers and found... nothing.

Okay. His clothes weren't there, either. But they had to be here; this was his room, after all. There were always old clothes and forgotten laundry lying about.

In a half-panic, he tore through his room, checking behind the furniture and in the corners underneath his bed. Yet there was nothing. Not a single thing in sight. Where the fry had everything gone? Shell, he must've left them in the wash or... something. Maybe they were... downstairs. Downstairs.

Downstairs.

He froze. Behind him, the mirror watched, bearing into his back with quiet sobs.

Downstairs. That... husk was still downstairs, wasn't it. That parasite- no, y'know what, screw it. He was some fryin' child. He could beat that husk's face in if he wanted. He could break its neck. Rip its tentacles into pieces. He could-

As he moved to grab the doorknob, a contorted screech echoed from the other side of the wood. Max stopped, unmoving and unbreathing, as it squelched along the floor and into some unhearable distance.

After a pause, he breathed. And, slowly releasing his grip on the door, he raised his hands into his tentacles and let out a smothered scream.

Why. WHY. Why was he here, why was Dad here. Why was his stuff gone, why had he been six, why was he wearing his suit, why was the mirror here, why was it playing that image, why was it-

A quiet snifle murmured from the reflection behind him.

"SHUT UP!" Max screamed at the top of his lungs. Furious, he paced around his room, ripping at his tentacles and his sleeves.

"What is wrong with you?!" He snarled into the reflection. "Why are you even-?! Why can't you just...?!"

With a bloodcurling snarl, he collapsed into his desk chair and buried his face in his hands.

Talk: Mirror

 

[Banshee]

Alga stared at the mirror for a few seconds more before sighing and setting it down where it had been. Nothing else to be figured out from that.

With nothing to distract her now, she shifted so that she was laying on her back and glanced around the room. It was pitch dark, not a trace of sun showing through the blinds, so it must have been fairly late, although she didn't know for certain. She wondered if her family was still up...

She was tired. She was tired and, frazzled as her nerves were, there was absolutely no desire to leave the relative comfort that was her bed. If one of her game systems had been within arm's reach, it would have been fine to just play the night away. But nothing was near except for her mirror, and by this point she was beginning to notice a familiar sensation tugging insistently at her stomach.

Squid, when was the last time she had eaten?

A quiet groan forced itself from her throat which was followed by a huff, and then she ever so reluctantly sat up and turned to bring herself to stand. Her body felt heavy underneath her, weighed down by exhaustion, and it was really more of an ordeal than it should have been to shuffle her way to the door.

Whatever. The sooner she managed to eat, the sooner she could crawl back into bed and hopefully get some more sleep.

Go To: Kitchen

 

[Aykorn]

Spoiler: Wade Arroyo: Leave

A completely perfect mirror and within it showed reality. Huh.

Holding the mirror up, Wade took his sleeve and wiped his face. Reality showed that his eyes were still puffy from crying. Thankfully it functioned like a normal hand mirror when needed so... awesome.

Joking aside, there was something comforting about knowing that what it showed was real, and that it was clear and perfect. He held it close to his chest and took a deep breath.

He let the mirror lay at his side, glancing around the memory of his childhood home. Technically, it was still his parent's house that existed in San Angelote right now, but five years earlier. Five years didn't feel that long when it showed up as subtle changes to a home.

Wade started to wander unconsciously as he looked, walking with an unsteady beat. His footing was shaky, like weight had been lifted off of him, and each of his strides went twice as far as he thought they would. There was this weird lightness, but also... exhaustion. Spent but not entirely bad.

Five years didn't show on a house like it did on person, Wade thought, acknowledging the photos of himself that should have been on the wall. At 'this' time, there were actual photos of Rivera on it, like non-terrible school pictures and snapshots of her in her drill uniform. A few were baby pictures of Wade, but they still were mostly pictures of his parents together ...and Riv.

Strange he could see her in photos again, too. One of these pictures... Wade looked into with a little more focus. He recognized it because he'd been able to save this picture, keeping it in the shoebox under his bed. He wasn't sure where the rest of these Rivera photos had ended up --or if he was even recalling them correctly,-- but as his parents swapped in pictures of him... the pictures of Rivera became more sparse.

Wade had a feeling that he knew what this wall looked like, just from what he remembered and without having to reflect through the mirror. He let the mirror stay at his side, but kept his grip around it firm and secure.

There were other things in the house that had probably changed. Rivera's room for one. How different it looked was maybe too difficult of a pill to swallow at the moment, even after the whole 're-memory happening'. But besides that, most of the house was probably the same or incredibly similar.

Some things were probably exactly the same, like his mother's signature E-liter. He knew where it sat, sitting on the fireplace mantel in all of its customized-black-chrome glory. It was fer piece of pride and legacy from a career of inkbattling, never to be used again.

Taking his time and perusing his house... It sounded nice but he still didn't know why this was happening. Wade looked behind at an old wall clock, gently swinging with the seconds. Was time passing in "reality" as he looked around? Was there a reality happening around him, if this was his mind?

He wanted to stay here. The setting afternoon was beautifully calm, and this room... this world? It was all the good things he remembered and wanted, without the bad. He could stay here for a while, he really could.

Wade held the mirror up again, softly tracing the edge, before looking up at the door.

He couldn't stay here. He wouldn't. It wasn't explicit but he felt like he understood what his sister had told him. Or... what her memory did. What he had told himself? It might not have even had anything to do with sister, but it was a message he had learned from somewhere and carried with him in all his actions and words.

Push forward.

Keep going, keep trying, keep failing and keep picking yourself up off the ground to try again.

He had memories of his sister in this world, but he had more than memories to protect in reality. He had to keep going. He couldn't stay in this memory if he wanted to do that.

"I guess I am leaving," Wade said aloud. The tables had turned this time, and now Wade was the one leaving through the front door. He wasn't all that sure what was waiting for him once he did.

"Goodbye," he said gently, as he reached for the door handle and held his mirror close.

Leave

 

[VeryButter]

Magabelle blinked as Bethany prepared to take action, confusion and overwhelm creeping in. She'd thought Beth wouldn't want One to fight, yet here she was calling him for just that—and previous employer? Was she implying that this was, uh... 'Deepview' they were dealing with? Why would they be trying to get her of all people?

"Wha..." Magabelle said, the side of her mouth going up in some sort of grimace or snarl soon after. "Wait. Wait, what? You're making these people sound like some tyrannical police force or something! ...Is that what they are?"

She swallowed her panic and anger and sighed. "I... Okay. I'll wait here. But if you start struggling I'm joining in."

Stay

 

[Rustic]

Spoiler: Canchi Chiro - Run into the ground.

Canchi paused, the therapeutic thrill of smashing the containment jars quickly fading as he stood there, staring at the people milling about. The alarm in the building ringing in his ears was distracting. He wanted to hold his ears in some attempt to block the noise out, it was too loud, too hard to focus on whatever they were saying.

He knew that the guards would come for them soon, but for the moment, it seemed that they weren't there yet. Maybe could do something for these people, find a way out for them. Something that could help them, he wanted to help them. But...

He was just a kid with a gun and the ability to go through walls. Even with that he didn't think he could do anything, much less save all these people. Canchi curled his free hand into a fist, slightly shaking at his side as he stood there. What was he thinking at first? Some stupid heroic feat for them, one that he could gather and whisk everyone away to the outside world, out where Deepview could be outed for what it truly is?

Pfft, maybe! You weren't really the brightest one when it came to helping people.

Canchi flinched as the voice spoke, its sharp and accurate comment burned him. His eyes welled up with tears as he thought about it, was he going to cry again? In front of all these people? He didn't want to, it would've been embarrassing to breakdown in front of all these idols. Wouldn't it?

Yeah, well obviously.

"Shut up..." He murmured, although he was inclined to agree with it. "I want you to just... shut up and let me think. I want all of you to shut up and let me think."

Oooo! Well, sorry that you insisted on those fakes.

"Will all of you just shut up already!"

He wanted to go home, be somewhere he could sulk in peace. Canchi's feet slowly sunk downward into the ground as he moved backward, turning to try and get away from everything. The feeling of leaving them didn't sit well within him, he wanted to help them now, but instead he was leaving them to run away from his problems.

He had to deal with these problems one at a time though, he'd come back for them later. He'd always come back to help people, always.

 

[ReedRGale]

@Aykorn

Spoiler: Wade Arroyo

Wade ==> Return to Reality

The door opened to a gentle light. Not the light of the afternoon, but a pale, soft light that enveloped him entirely. Wade’s whole vision was white by the time the door closed behind him and somehow, he knew that place--that memory--was gone.

His whole vision was blank for a moment. Not blinding though. It didn’t hurt, it was just blank. In time, that slowly faded into a grey. Then a shade. Then a blackness.

The floor came up to greet his feet and that was when he knew he was back. Wade was in the cave and he wasn’t sure if he was relieved about that or not.

Someone else was here with him. Max, probably, and he was breathing hard and heavy. In this cramped part of the tunnel, his labored panting encompassed all of Wade’s senses. There was nothing to see. Nothing to smell. Neutral except the sound of heavy breathing.

He was back and he wasn’t sure if he was relieved about that or not.

What now?

@Hesoca

Spoiler: Maximillian de Re

Max ==> deny yourself

"What is wrong with you?!" Max snarled into the reflection. "Why are you even-?! Why can't you just...?!"

He collapsed into his desk chair, burying his face in his hands.

When he removed them the world had changed. He was in the reflection now, though the mirror itself still persisted.

...Still. Persisted...

And it still showed this world, where was Max in front of his crying younger self. The muffled sobs were clearer now. More direct. More painful.

In wordlessness, Max let his hands fall and leaned onto his knees, staring at the crying child in disturbed bafflement. Around him, the world floated amidst darkness, equally quiet.

He listened blankly. The reflection’s cries echoed in soft, muffled tones, yet the sound rang sharper than an ink knife. Make it stop, they seemed to say. Deep One’s, make it stop.

Again, he buried his face in his hands. Why. Why this memory, with all its feelings and thoughts and unchangeable history. Why here, why now, why HIM.

Swallowing, he glanced up and met the reflection’s gaze, horrified and angry.

“What.” He muttered with increasing fury. “What is it. What do you want me to do?!” He swallowed. “I can’t change this, okay? I can’t stop this.”

“What the shell do you want from me?!”

The little him still cried but managed to choke out a few words. "I just..." A sob. The small figure momentarily wiped away the neverending stream of tears. "I just want everything to be better..."

He looked up at Max and asked a simple question. "Why a-aren't things better? I'm older. But it's all worse. I try so hard. But everyone abandons me. No one understands."

The weeping resonated in the quiet room as if it were an auditorium void of an audience. "Why aren't things better?"

His younger self's eyes were shot from crying, veins visible in his pleading eyes. Why? they asked. Just why?

“I-I...”

Max stared into the reflection’s gaze with equal melancholy. He paused, gaping and speechless. And then, quietly, he looked away, hanging his head as he did so.

“...The world’s wrong.” He said, “Broken. Run by parasites who only care about the evil and suffering they can cause. It...” and he shifted. “It hurts.”

Quietly, he stood and walked over to his reflection, kneeling down beside it.

“...H-hey,” he stammered, “D-don’t... look, I’m not... I...”

Swallowing, he tried again.

“I-I’m... sorry.”

His eyes met the reflection’s gaze.

“I’m not... gonna abandon you, alright?” he said, “It’s just... well, it’s not... l-look, you don’t... you don’t need to cry about the world. It’s not worth it. The world doesn’t deserve it.”

Tears ran down his face, parallel to himself. Yet even in the tears, he began to grin.

“This world needs a hero,” he said with a smile, “That hero.. that’s gonna be me. I’m strong enough, a-and I...I can take the... the abandonment and hurt. I can take it.”

He felt himself lying through gritted teeth. “I can take it... okay? So don’t... you don’t need to cry. Just... please.”

“Please... don’t cry.”

"Are tears weak or strong?" the reflection asked. The world seemed burn hotter, then freeze over, oscillating with the seconds.

"Dad said they're weak. Mom said they're strong. I don't get it. Nothing makes sense...

"What happened to dad? Why can't we save him? Why can't we do it?

The tears didn't stop. "Nothing turns out right. Not even we're right. What is a hero? Why aren't we a hero yet?"

Darkness began to encroach on the room. It was a different kind than before, less controlled. Instead of fading in chunks, it crept in like the tide. An inexorable wave. Doubt. Fear. Denial. Denial.

The temperature oscillated. The reflection cried.

“The shell are you talking about?” Max sneered. “I am a hero. You know how many people I’ve gotten taken off the streets? You know how many people I-“

He stopped midway, shaking himself out of his indignation. The darkness and temperature mingled around him, blurring his thoughts and vision.

“Look, it’s not... s-stop worrying about it, alright?” He stammered coldly. “I-I can save him. I can save everyone. I can do it. Just... just give me time.”

"Time..." the little one grimaced. The cold shifted to frost. "Time!?" It scoffed, gritting his teeth. The heat shifted to a blaze.

"Nothing has improved!" he shouted. Max could feel tears running down his own face as the fire began to engulf the child's bedroom that was once his.

"Nothing has gotten better..." he sniffed. The tears on Max's face stuck to his face as they froze in place. The walls were encased in ice and the rime on the floor was creeping in.

After a few choked breaths, the little boy looked away and asked, "why do we keep lying? Why...?"

He looked back to Max and said some terrible, terrible words with an ironic smile. "Let's just give up."

“Give... up...?”

Max stared, dull-eyed and blank-face. His shoulders drooped; his hands slunk to his side. Around him, the chill crept, lining his suit with frost and freezing the floor underneath his feet.

Slowly, he stood, and staggered. In the cold, movement was smothered. His limbs limped without a flame to fuel them; even his thoughts dragged in sparkless acceptance.

Max turned to the child. And, with a furrowed brow and a solemn snarl, Max spoke.

“FRY NO.”

In a burst, Max shot forward, grabbing the child by the collar and pinning him to the bedroom wall. The frost shattered; shards of ice flew out and broke into flame.

“You want me to give up?!” Max shouted, his voice on the verge of hysterics. “You want me to GIVE UP?! After everything I’ve been through, all the fryin' shell that I’ve been through, you have the nerve, the fryin' nerve to tell me that I should give up?!”

He screamed inches from the child’s face. “YOU DON’T KNOW HOW MUCH I'VE FRYING SUFFERED BECAUSE OF YOU!”

The room rang with the sound of repeated blows and bursts of flame. Fire erupted from the walls; white flames burned the furniture to ash.

With a delirious grin, Max leaned down and hissed into his captive’s face.

“Lemme drill something into your little head, ink-speck,” he snarled, “I am not giving up. I am never giving up. Not now. Not until every cause of suffering in this world is dead. I will beat them, I will frying eviscerate them, and no one is stopping me. Especially. Not. You.”

...

"Okay," was all the little one had to say. He burned in the flames as did the room. And Max was alone in the dark. Just him and the mirror again.

No. He wasn't in the room anymore. That had burned away. He was... back in the tunnel. But the mirror persisted.

Whatever helltrip nightmare he'd just experienced was over but... the mirror. It still. Persisted. It's still. There.

 

[ReedRGale]

@Banshee

Spoiler: Alga Sargasso

Alga ==> Go To: Kitchen

Hunger drove Alga to go to the kitchen. Her stomach’s rumbling made her realize how much she’d done and how little she’d gotten to recuperate throughout. Sleeping and eating and defecating all took a backseat to Octolings and mirror worlds and a Word.


Deep Ones, it was nice to be home.

Or well, nicer. Things had changed though.

Alga walked down the hallway passing by old photos. Windows to a younger her. But their reflective surfaces showed hints of another house. Another hallway glinting through when viewed from just the right angle.


She looked away.


Nothing felt completely right anymore. Every reflective surface peeked into that other world. Framed photos, the windows, the clock faces: all were now portals to another hallway. A deader hallway. If she focused, Alga could make them go away, but whenever she stopped trying to see reality, the vision returned.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, there was a hole in the air in the kitchen. A black spot facing right toward the hallway just above the table.


Just… there.

Alga could unsee it if she tried, like a lot of things. But as she opened the refrigerator, and she turned back, it was still there.


From one side, she couldn’t see it. The hole was only one direction. Facing the hallway. But from the other, she didn’t need to focus. She could see the other side of the kitchen just fine.


It was a one-sided hole of blackness just in the middle of the kitchen. And it was freaking her out.


Probably best to focus on making a snack. Just… don’t think about it. The refrigerator was open and its chilling breath coaxed Alga back to the task at hand.

In the fridge was the mirror, laying angled against a jar of pickles. The Word waved at her, smiling.


Uh.

@Rustic

Spoiler: Canchi Chiro

Canchi ==> Run Into The Ground

He’d be back. He swore it. But right now he couldn’t help.


Yeah, just for right now.


Was that… sarcastic or serious? He couldn’t really tell. And it didn’t matter.

Canchi ignored it. He didn’t have time for it right now. He had to be in control. As he faded into the floor--and some onlookers who had noticed him in the chaos gawked--a headache began to pang.

Just a little more.


Yeah, just a little more.


Sarcastic? Serious? What was it trying to--!


No. No. Focus. Calm. In the floor.

The alarm rang out loudly as Canchi disappeared and yet, as more of him waded into the metal grating, the lesser the sound. Same with the sound of panicked voices and the stomping feet. They all faded as he phased downward.

And then it was all gone. He was alone in his sea of earth. Alone with the headache and the voice. But this time, he didn’t wait.

Of course you don’t wait. Time isn’t real. Not for you. Not if you try hard enough.


Ignore it.


Canchi closed his eyes and moved through the ground, making sure to avoid the rooms. He could come back here whenever he needed. What he wasn’t sure he could always do was escape.


So he needed to leave.

He weaved between rooms, feeling... no, knowing the edges of walls through mounds of earth. He kept going opposite of gravity, his spatial compass. And before he knew it. He was free.

You’re always free, numbnuts.

Canchi Chiro found himself in a back alley. Inkpolis. The debris on the ground caused by the earthquake was still abundant here. He must be far from the heart of the city. The moon shone in the sky, lighting his path. But… not him.


Deep One’s he was invisible.


Vision doesn’t have to apply to--

He calmed down. He willed himself to be visible again. Not only that, the headache subsided. And he was back. He was back home. A bitter victory.

He thought about those people. Those celebrities. They were still trapped. And he’d be back. He swore it. He would help them if it was the last thing he did.

@VeryButter

Spoiler: Magabelle Yyouni

Mag is Good Back Here

“As long as you’re sure,” Beth said, leading Mag elsewhere before the excursion. “Give me a moment.”

She relocated Mag to the fingerprint-locked training room. “This is probably the most secure location. I’d recommend practicing a little bit with that weapon until we return… and should we not return…”

“M-mom, what do you mean?”

“Nothing sweetie,” Beth said, solemnly. “No. No, Mag, we will be back. I recommend practicing. Speaking of which, One you remember--” her voice cut off as the door slid closed automatically.


A room filled with targets. One gun. [meme]Some gun. Not enough gun.[/meme]


> Mag can focus on training her aim with the weapon. (+1 to attack rolls)
> Mag can focus on training to hit vital spots. (+1 to damage)
> Mag can focus on training evasive maneuvers with this weapon. (-1 to enemy attacks when submerged)

((Have any questions? Did I misrepresent your character? Contact me via PM or Discord. Otherwise, please mind the deadline.))

Reminders:

Posts are Due: I think we've got this at this point.
Gm Post will be Made: Ibid.

Spoiler: Available Actions Reminder

Will be Responded to in GM Post:
Do Nothing [sit back and let the story happen; useful when it would be dangerous to do things]
Shadow [use this to try to stealthily follow a target. I'll make rolls on whether you succeed or not]
Ink / Go To ______ [use this to travel from one place to another relatively quickly; ink if it's something specific, like a kettle, Go To if it's a general area]
Research [some topic; need to be in a library or have access to a computer--shellphones don't count]
Sleep [use this when there's nothing left you can do, logically, in the day]
Follow [use this to just keep together with a party member or let an NPC take the lead]
Attack [use on people or objects you intend to hurt or break, specify any weapons you might be using]
Talk [use on people you want to start a conversation with]
Call [use on a person that you want to call (talk, but when not in the area)--or a item that has a number on it to contact someone you don't know]

Will be Responded to Immediately:
Conceal [use this action on something you intend to hide on your person]
Pick Up [use this action on something you want to hold onto]
Examine/Observe [use on things that you want more details on]
Use [use on things that you intend to use in some way--please specify how you're using it]

Search For [use like examine but for things that may or may not be there]
Hide [Insert Applicable Preposition] [use to conceal oneself, usually for a short amount of time]

 

[VeryButter]

Magabelle sighed as the door closed. Honestly, she just wanted to curl up on the floor until they came back... if they came back...

No. She shook her head; Magabelle wouldn't try and get herself down again. And it was important to train with the pistol she had. What use was it if she couldn't use it efficiently?

Stretching her arms beforehand, Magabelle figured that she'd try and focus on defeating enemies faster while she was in there. The practice would help as both a backup plan and a distraction, too.

Train: Hitting Vital Spots (+1 Damage)

 

[Banshee]

The several questions running through her head about the situation screeched down to a pause when she found herself met with the mirror, and her first thought was why was it leaning on a pickle jar of all things? Just the fact that it seemed to have transported itself without any outside force sent a quick, cold shudder of something through her gut, and she hastily had to remind herself that no, this wasn't ghost activity, it's the work of all-powerful deities get over yourself.

The excuse only makes her feel marginally better.

She stared for an indeterminate amount of time, feeling the cold air of the refrigerator beat softly against her skin as she tried to comprehend exactly what in squid was happening right now.

"Uh...?"

Talk: The Word

 

[Hesoca]

Still there. Still there. Still watching.

The tunnel stood in a state of almost-tangibility, encased in a monochromatic darkness lacking discernible time or dimension. Max existed among it as an amalgamation, his features flooded and void.

All the while, the mirror lingered, superimposed.

Muffled indignation propelled Max forward. He stepped toward the mirror with tired trudges as though wading through enemy ink. Anger echoed as a dull intonation ringing in his ears; the reflection's words repeated in his thoughts. Nothing has improved. Nothing has gotten better.

Give up.

Snatching the mirror from its perch, he screamed into the glass. "This isn't over, ink-speck! I'm gonna fryin' come in there and beat your fryin' head in! I'm gonna brea-... I'm gonna b-..."

His remaining words pittered out in a choked stumble; the ringing in his ears gave to the sound of his own panting. Disconcerted, he tried again, repeating a cycle of starts and chokes until the heaviness of his breathing forced him into despondent silence.

He leaned against the tunnel wall in tears, the mirror drooping in his hands.

Silent, he listened. It was quiet. In the corporeal darkness of the tunnel, the place itself seemed beyond reality. The dust and debris that had hung in the air before were gone; the bright light of his torch had been extinguished and misplaced. Squinting into it revealed distortion but little else; no outline he could reach for, no form he could fight.

He stifled a gasp. There was only one thing this could be. Miasma. Corruptive miasma rising from the depths of the tunnels. Deep Ones, it was everywhere. It was on everything...! He needed to leave, to get out before it could overtake him further. Get out before it could take him. Get out before-

Ripping himself from the wall, he tried to push forward, only to be stopped near-instantaneously by the face of the other end. Wait. That wasn't right. The tunnel before was... larger than that, wasn't it...?

A panic rose from his chest and into his throat.

No, no, no, this wasn't right, this wasn't the part of the tunnel he was in before. Where was he, how'd he gotten here, who'd moved him to this place? Was it the mirror? The mirror. The mirror wouldn't leave. The mirror wasn't affected. It was the mirror, the mirror was causing it, the mirror was still there and still watching and still persisting a-a-a-a-and-

He clawed at his tentacles. Stop. Stop. He needed to stop. He needed to breath. He needed to fight. Fight it. Give up- no, don't give up. Don't let it take him. Don't let the mirror win. It didn't deserve to win. Resist it. Resist it.

Resist

 

[Aykorn]

If there was any doubt in Wade's mind that the person panting on the ground was someone other than Max, the idea was quickly crushed when they started yelling, "This isn't over, ink-speck! I'm gonna fryin' come in there and beat your fryin' head in! I'm gonna brea-... I'm gonna b-..."

The ranting trailed off, but the voice and the message were clear.

Angry yelling? Check.
'Ink-speck'? Check.
The weirdly specific mention of beating his head in? Check.

Yes! It was Max! Just the person Wade wanted to see in a dark, treacherous tunnel.

Having just come out of the dream-like haze of a warm afternoon in his childhood home, shaken was a bit of an understatement. Wade held his breath, quietly miming to himself that he had no idea why he was being threatened again.

On a list of things he wanted to put up with today, Max had somehow ended up on 'Yeah, lets see where his lead takes us,' but right now?

Wade made a cursory look around into the murky dark. They were still in the tunnels, right? If he ran back, there were people chasing them. But Wade sure as shell wasn't staying here, next this psychopath, so if he wanted to ditch Max, he had to make a mad dash past him. All right then.

Sneak, then maybe Run past Max

 

[ReedRGale]

Wade ==> Sneak then Run

Yup. Max had gone off the deep end. Not that he hadn't already but if he'd gone through anything like what Wade had... well. Whatever. Pyschomax could take care of himself. But he was ahead and the only path forward was through him so...

> Sneak then Run Past Max (Athletics + Dexterity)
> Modifiers: unnaturally dark (-3), rough terrain (-1)
> Base Pool: 10 ==> Dice Pool: 6
> Successes: 5

Sound was all Wade had to go off of to navigate. Good thing Max was as loud as ever. What did Jax see in him anyway? In any case, it was no hard feat to scuttle around him, even though this part of the tunnel seemed narrower than before.

Err... was that right? And did it get brighter? No. No it had always been this way. Wade had blinked and could see the beam of the flashlight again. The tunnel was the same as before and no nearly claustrophobic. Whatever that darkness was, it passed or...

No that wasn't right either. Wade shined his beam on Max, still distracted screaming at... something. Odd as that was, Max didn't react to the beam at all. He was probably still in that darkness.

But whatever. Wade didn't want to be anywhere near that crazy. So he ran. Jax had to be somewhere in this tunnel and the priority was to find him.

Further in, Wade could feel something at his feet. He looked down and saw a black ooze covering the floor. The layer of tar had a thick, acrid smell, like burning tires. That... couldn't be a good sign.

Wade pushed forward, slower now. It didn't take long until his flashlight beam focused on a figure in the distance. The closer he got to it, the clearer it became he didn't want to know. But he had to. So he walked on, the tar at his feet clinging desperately to his shoes with each step, begging him to stop moving forward.

When he could make sense of what he was seeing, Wade began to wretch.

Jax was kneeling on the floor, arms hanging limply like a puppet in disuse. From his mouth and eyes, the black fluid leaked to the floor, creating a the rank grime coating the tunnel floor. It flooded out of him like some Gothic bathtub left to run, flooding everything.

Where was all of this coming from?

The smell was worse up close. The burning scent felt like rubber smoke, making Wade gag as he got closer. But he got closer. And closer. And it got worse. And worse.

He had no plan. Right... right...

Think. What's next?

 

[Aykorn]

Wade also dropped his flashlight.

Wh-what was this?

Every instinct in him wanted to cry bloody murder, but Wade had stopped a hand over his mouth, already clutching his bandanna over his face to resist the fumes. The burning smell was already invading his senses. This... this was too much!

His eyes darted down to the sludge on the ground. He could feel his ink running cold as he looked around in horror. Wade was desperately trying to keep his head on straight, but this entire scene didn't make sense.

What was going on?!

Wade lifted a shoe and the ooze clung to the bottom. Everything he stood in --trudged in-- was the same slick, black gunk. Reluctantly, Wade's gaze returned to ooze's... source.

It was Jax.

It was definitely him. The ooze kept gushing. It spilled endlessly.

What was happening? How did this happen?

He couldn't even consider that Jax was 'okay' with how he looked. Never mind, conscious. O-or alive? Ha!

Wade stumbled back a few steps, unable to pry his eyes away. He was scared, he was so scared.

He couldn't understand what to do, he couldn't even understand how to react. He felt like laughing nervously, like crying out of fear, and maybe collapsing to his knees himself. None of it would help. All of this just paralyzed him further.

In this moment of hysteria, a flash of dreadful thoughts washed over Wade.

...Did they mess up? Did they get caught? Did they underestimate what would happen if they tried to go after the missing people? Did every petty fight and careless action land them here? Could this have been different if they just never came here?

No! No... There was no way. Wade didn't want to believe this. ...Th-this couldn't be real. This couldn't be real!

With shaky hands, Wade reached for the mirror he had received, bringing it to an angle where he could just barely catch the reflection. This horrific scene, it couldn't be reality, could it?!

Examine: J̙̘̜̘̥a̟̗͖̰̮͖ͅx ̛̰?̠͙̦͈͘??̱̜?̼ (with the Mirror)

 

[ReedRGale]

Examine: J̙̘̜̘̥a̟̗͖̰̮͖ͅx

The mirror showed Jax, half illuminated by the in the torch's light.

And it was just him. Kneeling and arms to his sides, weakly. Just him, in the end. No ooze. He was fine. Maybe... maybe this was just what it looked like when Wade was... wherever he was before. Yeah. Weird. But fine. Probably.

Wade squinted. He breathed in deep.

The tar didn't fade like the darkness. But it couldn't be real. It was the opposite of real. He could feel it now. Everything about it wanted to negate what it touched.

But it wasn't. Wade could feel it wasn't doing that. He could feel that it wanted to destroy him. But it didn't. Couldn't? ...Wasn't? It was hard to say.

Jax was fine though. He had to be fine. In reality, he was fine. This mirror could only show things as they are. He had to be fine. Yeah. Fine.

Yeah.

In through the nose. Out through the mouth.

What now?

 

[Aykorn]

Wade swallowed, ducking his head for a moment to brace from the acrid air.

Okay, this was another mind-world illusion thing. He didn't know what was happening to make black ooze fill the room, but he also didn't know why he saw the memory of his sister. Wade did know that he had been offered the choice to leave once he realized what the memory was showing him.

If that was all true, there had to be something to stop this, right?

Lifting his head, with a burst of determination, Wade started to pick up his feet and slog his way through the gunk towards Jax.

It was distinct now, with each step. Feelings he could understand came from the tar, with this desire to destroy and negate. Wade plod on through despite these feelings; they weren't his and they weren't true, seeing as how he wasn't dissolving from standing in the sludge. So who's thoughts were these? The traces from before telling him not to move forward, had to be the same.

Wade kept moving, despite his feet getting stuck more and more often. He wondered, why couldn't the tar destroy if it wanted to? Was it because of Jax? ...What was Jax seeing?

Wade had no idea what he was actually going to do once he got to Jax. Jax was under all this ooze in the mirror's reflection, so there had to be a way to reach him. If he could, there had to be something Wade could do.

The ooze was actively flowing as he got closer making it even harder to continue. Wade stepped his way forward until he stood next to Jax.

Wade hesitated for a moment. He couldn't be scared here. If anyone was freaking out, it would probably be Jax.

After a deep breath, he gently set a hand on Jax's shoulder.

"Can you hear me?" Wade asked.

(Try to) Talk: to Jax