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

You are in a Buddhist shrine, and it is completely wrecked. Buddha’s head has fallen off and is across the room from his body. The place is strewn with random rubble, including the traditional items that one finds at such a shrine… only they’ve all been broken in various ways.

There is a hole in the ceiling and one in the floor, offset from each other as if something crashed through the room at an angle. Both holes are tinged with ice and smoldering embers that are tingled purple. There is also ice scattered around the room, mostly all over the Buddha statue’s body. There is another void on directly in front of the Buddha statue.

The sun is shining through the hole in the ceiling and the room is very well lit despite that it overall feels like it should be gloomy, in mourning. The shadows here are odd, skipping away from your gaze whenever you try to look at them directly.

"Yeesh, this place has seen better days," Wash muttered as he looked around as they stepped inside. "Is this whole place going to be ruins...?"

More ice, but also...purple flames? His eyes narrow.

He moves towards the statue.

"Well I know a few people who wouldn't approve."

Wukong followed Wash inside, eyes taking in the details and nudging the ice with the toe of a boot. It is gloomy here, but the ice is a red flag.

"Almost makes me wish I'd saved the ice shard I got."

When you touch the ice, there's a strong sense of her laughter. Her taunting. No words, just a feeling.

The statue is totally wrecked and missing a head, and there's a void in front of it.

Edited 2024-03-14 17:25 (UTC)

"A few people?" Wash asked. "And what ice shard?"

He picks up the statue head to look it over.

You are Macaque, and you are in a rage.

You finally came looking for Wukong after hearing that he was traveling with agents of Heaven. You didn't believe it at first. But there he is, laughing and having a fun time with them. So it's true, he has betrayed you. And you have been replaced.

You don't think about the gold fillet on his head and what it could mean.

You sink back into the shadows and try to think, but the rational side of your mind that will always believe in Wukong has been taken over by the side that saw him with those others, by the awful sinking feeling that he doesn't need you anymore. Your thinking in a haze of so many feelings, none of them good.

You can't let this stand.

Wukong definitely didn't approve of the feeling and the laughter. "On second thought, maybe it's better I used that memory back with the staff. Because yeah, that was a memory I got. You get anything from that head?"

Well.

Lying is never productive in Heart Games.

"Jealous rage about the journey situation," he said.

"Well that tracks. We fought, over 500 years passed, and the next he knew I had new friends."

Wukong sighed, only slightly put off by the notion. It was in the past and they were moving forward. So being actually annoyed was pretty pointless. Besides, he probably would have felt the same all things being equal.

He walked over to poke at the embers on the ground, crouching to do so.

The embers are tingled purple, probably leave those alone. Might be good to tell Wash to also leave those alone!

However, you do find scattered items on the floor, as if they were disturbed by the impact:

> 3 sticks of half-burned incense
> Some drops of dried wax from a candle (they're loose, not stuck to the ground)
> A torn prayer cloth
> A broken bowl, overturned
> Some pieces of Buddha's statue

"That would be pretty rough," Wash agreed.

He'll pick up some more of those Budha statue pieces, maybe get them together.

Noting the feeling the embers give him, Wukong huffs a little. "Best to leave these embers alone. Nothing good will come from messing with them."

He turns his attention to the items, gently turning the bowl over with his tail.

The shard give Wash the following memory:

You are a six-eared macaque, and you are trying your best.

You try to join in with the other monkeys, but they run away or turn their backs or hiss as if you're going to hurt them. You look different, and they're afraid of you. You try to hide your ears with mud and fruit husks, but they can tell. They won't let you close. You don't know what you do.

You hunt down the best fruit in the area, sometimes traveling for days to find it. When you bring it back, they won't touch it. You try to break it open and show them how good it is, but they don't believe you. They won't go near any of it. You eat it alone.

You can hear danger coming from anywhere, and you try to warn them. They think you're the danger instead. They don't listen to your warnings. Sometimes some of them die because of it.

You spend all your time alone. One day, you talk to your shadow. It talks back. It's comforting.

The bowl gives Wukong the following memory:

You are Macaque, and you are listening to Donnie take the blame for your brain surgery going wrong.

You're still woozy from blood loss, covered in gross dried blood, but you jump up. You can't let him do that. He's your family, you can't sit there while he accepts blame for what was your decision, your request. Your stupid move to try and make yourself happy while telling yourself that Wukong would be happier too.

You try to comfort Donnie. It doesn't work. You can't think straight with how much blood you lost, but even if you could, you're not sure there's any way to lift this burden from him.

You've failed everyone close to you. Everyone. Because you couldn't give up on a love that never wanted you.

Also, notable, under the bowl there is a coiled up snake. For now, it just looks at Wukong, sticking its tongue out to smell who's there.

Wash studied the shard. "So...rejection. Helplessness, maybe?" He's going to go pick up the cloth.

You pick up the torn prayer cloth. You get a feeling of never being first to the ones you love. Always having to watch as they find their true happiness with another. And the feeling of being glad for them but also wondering what you lack that makes this happen, again and again. You feel a churning pit in your gut for feeling this way, because the person they hold above you deserves it more in every way, so things are as they should be. So you don't resent it exactly, it's not that, it's just lonely. But you're used to that.

"...yeah, definitely some rejection and helplessness. Resignation to a degree," he said.

Let's try that incense.

"Failure as well, since this memory was his wanting to keep Donnie from taking the blame for all of this. He feels that because he asked Donnie to do the surgery, then he's the only one responsible for the pain this mess is causing."

Smoothly, he scoops the snake into the bowl with his tail, staring hard at it as he draws the bowl closer.

When Wash touches the incense, he will get a frantic sensation of trying to make things work. Put the square peg of reality into the round emotional hole, proverbially speaking. You know that things can't ever be exactly what you want (need?) but you should take what you can get.

The snake seems to be sluggish, probably because of the ice in here. It is easily scooped into the bowl. It looks into Wukong's eyes, and you get a strong sense of jealousy, and also guilt about that jealousy. You have no right to be jealous, all considered. You should be able to take these sort of hurts better by now.

Luckily for the snake, Wukong is weiring his Journey clothes, so it's a simple matter to open his sleeve, inviting it to enter and warm itself by wrapping around his arm. He's always been protective of the people that are his...and if Macaque is his friend, still wants to be his...then that still applies to this jealous little piece of him. Because it needs warmth.

"Yeah, that tracks," Wash said. "The kid's always been a fixer."

Hm, another point for resignation. Unfortunately one he understands well. Its always hard trying to find that right piece for the emotional hole. He's gotten better, but its taken a lot of work.

He'll touch the wax. He figures Wukong is probably okay with the snake.

You are Macaque, and you are running. You have young monkeys climbing all over you, and more in your cradled arms as you run, your lungs burning from exertion and smoke.

You chance a look back. The flames are climbing the mountain, right on your heels. Heaven's holy fire, you think bitterly, come to cleanse Wukong's lands and all his subjects. As if imprisoning him wasn't bad enough.

The flames rush up to meet you, searing the end of your tail. You jump, diving through the waterfall and the seals, dropping the monkeys because you know that it won't be a pretty landing.

You cover your ears as the monkeys you couldn't save burn and scream. You hear every bit of those sounds anyway, and you feel sick. You feel useless.

More than anything, you feel guilty. And alone.

The kids scatter as you wail with impotent grief. First a scream of your own, raspy from the smoke, then quieter sobs that echo through the cavern.

Wukong would have been able to save them. Why weren't you?

Edited 2024-03-14 20:31 (UTC)

Oh fuck.

Excuse him as he drops to his knees at that because oh, that memory hits REAL FUCKING HARD.

The sound of buildings collapsing, the screams and shrieks of crumpling metal. The very distant and all too close THRUM of plasma raining down from the sky, there is rebar through her middle, telling him to box everything up and to keep going-

Wash grabs his head.

Forces himself to fucking breathe.

Edited 2024-03-14 20:53 (UTC)

Re: Level S (sub 1) - West Door

castaside - 2024-03-14 21:12 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Level S (sub 1) - West Door

schrodingerscockroach - 2024-03-14 21:34 (UTC) - Expand

The snake looks dubious, but then it slithers up your arm and coils around it. Not to tight to be painful, but tightly enough so it won't slip off.

The last item is the loose dried wax, and then there's the void.

Dubious is just about Macaque's middle name. The Six-Eared Dubious Macaque. Even when there was no reason to be, despite that not being as often as Wukong would like. He lets the sleeve drop and looks at the wax. If that's all that's left...

He takes a piece.

You are Macaque, and you are running. You have young monkeys climbing all over you, and more in your cradled arms as you run, your lungs burning from exertion and smoke.

You chance a look back. The flames are climbing the mountain, right on your heels. Heaven's holy fire, you think bitterly, come to cleanse Wukong's lands and all his subjects. As if imprisoning him wasn't bad enough.

The flames rush up to meet you, searing the end of your tail. You jump, diving through the waterfall and the seals, dropping the monkeys because you know that it won't be a pretty landing.

You cover your ears as the monkeys you couldn't save burn and scream. You hear every bit of those sounds anyway, and you feel sick. You feel useless.

More than anything, you feel guilty. And alone.

The kids scatter as you wail with impotent grief. First a scream of your own, raspy from the smoke, then quieter sobs that echo through the cavern.

Wukong would have been able to save them. Why weren't you?