castaside | [Heart Game] From the ashes we can build

The needle of the syringe is rusted and looks like it's spent a long time here, exposed to the splash of salt water.

You are Macaque, and you are determined.

Wukong put together this little band of sworn brothers, but despite the name, so far they only tolerate you because you're Wukong's favorite. They are various degrees of baffled and resentful about it.

That's fine, honestly. You're used to needing to prove yourself. They're all big and flashy, which isn't the way you operate. You know your strengths, and you'll use them to show them what you can really do.

It'll take time. More with some than others. Yellowtusk respects thoughtfulness, which you have. DBK respects strength, easy enough. Peng and Azure... those are trickier. One gets off on being a bully, one is jealous. Not much to be done with that.

It's workable. You don't need their approval, you only need them to stop whispering about you in dark corners as if you can't hear them.

Shutting them up is going to be fun.

"????"

Red Son looks at the syringe in confusion. "I'm not entirely sure how this is related," he said. "Its him wanting to shut up the other sworn brothers about him being there. Determination and spite."

A pause. "A fairly accurate read on how they operate though," he said. His father included. He didn't always understand the strength of things until he saw it in action. "Next one."

He has the wind ready to support the rock and to keep a hold of MK.

MK watched the confusion. He hummed and listened. He tilted his head.

"Maaaaybe it was a give them a taste of their own medicine kinda thing? I dunno?" MK said with a shrug. Alarm clock next, I guess," MK moved the rock and felt his magical energy draining a little. But not too bad. Not yet.

"I'll take this one," He said as he reached and grabbed the clock.

When you touch the alarm clock, you are consumed by the ticking. It rings in your ears. You can feel it in your throat. The other sounds in this area fade out entirely, and all you hear is the ticking.

You feel the stress of limits. You want to overcome them, and are determined to do so, despite that they worry you. You feel them, even the ones you can beat into submission. You're willing to work hard, but what if it isn't enough? You'll have to make certain that it is enough, in the end. The alternative is always wondering what, indeed, you're actually worth.

"Maybe?" It seems the most likely explanation. That or the metaphors are getting mixed up.

"How is it?" He asked.

What was that thing Kornoe said? Same hat?

Same hat.

MK shoved the alarm clock into his bag and covered his ears with his hands. The ticking. The ticking! The rock waivered as his concentration broke. He forced it back up and the sand closed in around them. Like it was forming a dome or shell. He groaned as he felt the weight of it all.

"It's...loud. Ticking. And...feeling unworthy. Wanting to be worthy but thinking maybe you're not. ...Not a good feeling. Not at all," MK said as he shook. He focused on his breathing and pressed his head against Red Son's chest. He listened for his boyfriend's heartbeat. He could focus on that.

"I'm okay. I'm okay...just...can you grab the next one?"

Red Son kicked up the wind around them, stronger winds to help support the rock, keep it up, and his arm tightening around MK.

He puts his hand over MK's exposed ear, pressing him more to his chest. "I can grab the next one. Just focus on me, okay. Eat a candy. It'll be okay," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "Just breathe, okay? Turn the rock into sand if you need to let go of your concentration, I have you."

MK nodded. The ticking was fading away but he was having a hard time concentrating. Sand would be better. He shifted the rocks into sand and held on. He moved them toward the next memory object slowly. The spoon and the rotted bowl.

"There, there. Just breathe," Red Son said, breathing deep and letting it out slowly. Keeping his own heart rate calm. "Tell me when you're ready to catch and I'll take the next memory. Don't rush. We're fine."

Breathe. In. Out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Find his center. He nodded and the sand became more firm under their feet. He moved to the spoon and bowl. He nodded.

"I'm alright. I'm good to go. It's easier to think again. Grab it."

Red Son nodded and will kiss the top of his head. "You're doing well," he murmured.

And then he'll reach out for the bowl and spoon.

You touch the bowl and spoon, and they seem barely held together. The bottom is rotted out of both of them, making them unfit for their purpose, but sharp enough to hurt someone in some parts.

You feel a sinking feeling of making an error. Getting something wrong. Miscalculating. The wind knocked out of you as you try to think past your whirling mind and recover from the blow. How could you not see this? You're supposed to be smart.

That is the problem being so smart and also having worked against an impossible problem for centuries upon centuries. Self doubt is just his bread and butter, beating himself up for failure, and then forcing himself to get up again.

There is a bit of a hiccup in the flying and the wind.

But ultimately, that feeling is just Tuesday for Red Son.

"Realization of making a mistake. Do you want me to get the next one? These may be hard for you," Red Son said. With the theme so far and all...

MK watched Red Son. He was so good at this. MK was a little in awe of it. He shook his head.

"I can get the next one. I...need to get better at this. Will you just...hold me? Through it? Maybe some of your awesomeness will rub off on me," MK said and moved them toward the face sculpture next.

When you fail at something for almost your entire life, you have to learn to get up after your mistakes or you're laying down in a sad pile for a very, very, very long time.

"I'm not sure I'd call it awesomeness at this stage, but yes, I can hold you," he said, his hold tightening on MK. Making sure he has a good hold on their flight.

The broken sculpture is of a face, a fairly generic one. Not a monkey face, it's a human face. You can't tell much, but it looks maybe sad, maybe thoughtful.

You are Macaque, and your face hurts. But your heart hurts more.

You're watching MK pound his way six feet into the ground inside a soundless barrier, and then you watch him fall in and sob from one of the shadows on the rim of the mini-crater. You can't feel anything toward MK, but you can feel things towards yourself, and all you feel is disgusted.

Look what you've done. All because you wanted things to be easier for you. Better for you.

It's fucking ghoulish behavior, and you deserve to feel this way. But MK doesn't. Even with your feelings all messed up, you know that. It's obvious. It's unquestionable.

You don't deserve him. Not in the slightest.

But you are determined to fix this anyway, as much as you can. You need to tell him as soon as possible. No more hiding.

MK remembered how he felt that day. When he slammed his fists into the ground until he couldn't keep it up. How he cried in the dirt. Macaque had left a shadow around to watch? He saw it. He hadn't meant for him to. Not after it all went so wrong. He shook as he pulled the face closer to him. He leaned into Red Son. This felt familiar to something they'd found earlier, right?

"...Before. We found something about...fix thing stuff. Even if it was like bad or hurt you. Didn't we? Something like that? Can these things...combine together? Do the games work like that?"

Red Son frowned as he listened. "You mean combine the memories together? I don't know. It didn't work up top. What are you wanting to do?" He asked.

"I'm not wanting to. I guess. I mean, would they be complete if they could combine? Like in a game? This plus that equals new thing? If not...I'm overthinking it. This room is all about not feeling worthy. Not being enough. Being trapped in it. So what do we put in the void?" MK asked. They needed to choose quickly. Just in case things got violent again.

Red Son looked around the room. Took a breath. Let it out.

Moved his hand to MK's head and brings him close to bring their foreheads together. "We're here to fix up the holes. Any actual problems with Macaque, we can help out there," he said. "We're not going to get rid of his feeling of....not being enough. Temper it, but we can't change is here. Remember. Its his darkness too."

"R-Right. Right..." MK nodded and took a deep breath. They needed to think of what to do in order to fill this void. To fit. Find the missing piece. Don't change him. MK didn't want Macaque to change. He just wanted him to be him again. All of him.

"Okay. Your...jar of fireflies? Would that...work?" He asked softly. It seemed to fit to MK.

Red Son considers. Taking the time to lightly stroke MK's hair. Hoping the gesture will help him wind down from the insecurity bomb in his head.

"It is very fitting for this room. And its....softer than the other ones," Red Son said.

"I guess it is...but I looked at the messages. No one has just...being worthless. Unless we put one of these we found in the void? Could we do that? Like the alarm clock? Or the other ones? It feels like it's missing something. Maybe...him pushing through even with how scary it is, would help. Or I could use the bow. It was about being scared of himself. His darkness. But that was different."

MK sighed and leaned into the touch. "Emotions are hard."

"It seems likely the emotions in the room would match the room itself, but some are a little shuffled around or could be used to take out some of the bite," he said. "It is different, being scared of one's own darkness and fear of failure or not being good enough. And it would be dangerous to link them together. He was afraid he couldn't do enough. Wanted to hesitate because of it, but it is the right feeling, with the firefly."

He squeezed MK. "Emotions are difficult, but I know this one well. I think the jar would work."

[Heart Game] From the ashes we can build

Re: Level S (sub 1) - South Door

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Re: Level S (sub 1) - South Door

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