𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐡𝐢 🌼 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hearthwarming) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crescentview2023-02-07 08:20 pm
hearthwarming) wrote in crescentview2023-02-07 08:20 pm
🏝️ dulces sueños group excursion! 🏝️
🏝️ who: intrepid adventurers (vacationers?) and more!
🏝️ what: ori organized (origanized?) a group trip to the resort! mass memshare ensues.
🏝️ when: fall 9-10
🏝️ where: dulces sueños resort
🏝️ warnings: threads will be marked as needed for memshares.
( This is the ill-fated massextinction memshare event. Please refer to the event for details on the resort and the plotting post for any specific details for characters' memshares! There are toplevels for each area of the resort (and for the memshare). Enjoy! )
🏝️ what: ori organized (origanized?) a group trip to the resort! mass memshare ensues.
🏝️ when: fall 9-10
🏝️ where: dulces sueños resort
🏝️ warnings: threads will be marked as needed for memshares.
[ Hopefully everyone had fun on the Arco Lunar! The morning after the boat departs from the docks, a letter arrives to your mailbox: ]
Hello, intrepid adventurer!
I am excited to have you along for a group excursion to the mysterious new island! In two days' time, let us gather in the town square and set off from there! Please be prepared to stay the night. It will be so fulfilling and memorable for everyone to spend a night on an adventure together!
If you have any questions or concerns, please come find me at my flower shop in town or at the forest farm where I live!
Sincerely,
Oriphi
[ If she accidentally delivered it to a few wrong mailboxes, then... Oops!
On the promised day, once everyone (and likely a few surprise tag-alongs) has gathered or been gathered, Ori distributes little paper bags of snacks to everyone. Inside are cookies, oat snacks, and a freshly-picked apple from her and M-21's orchard. Do with them as you please... Just don't let her catch you throwing it into the sea or something. 🥺 ]
Alright. I think we should head out, then! Thanks for coming along, everyone! I hope it'll be a great time. Oh, and please don't forget to drink plenty of water and use this incredible ointment I discovered on this island! It's called "sunscreen!" Tieflings don't really get sunburnt, but you should use it!
[ And with that our intrepid adventurers set off to the mysterious, dangerous, unknowable... resort island! ]
( This is the ill-fated mass
2/2
[Should he say it? No. He shouldn't, but he finds himself speaking anyways. He feels frenzied, like a man possessed, fury and agony and this godforsaken yearning making him sound hysterical. Lost.
Confused.]
If you don't hate me, what am I? Everyone hates me, everyone fears me, and that's always been what I've wanted. That's how things have always been, and they can't just - change. Not like this. You've torn me open and seen something so ugly, so vile, the parts of me that have been festering away and rotting in the dark, so what makes you so different from everyone else? What are you seeing?
[Even other wizards regard Owen with the same trepidation humans do - if not more so. What is it about the spear that sets him apart? Can anyone truly be that understanding?]
If you don't hate me, what am I to you? I don't... I don't understand.
no subject
He wants to reach out. Wants to put a hand to him, to try and comfort this hysteria. But... what would he even say? Would he insist that plenty changes? No, because he can't really believe it entirely himself. He knows the stubbornness of a life with a singular set of purposes that can't be budged. He doesn't know what's different about him. He's just Otegine. And Otegine being different... it always made him stand out, but it wasn't exactly helpful. It never really had been.
This, too... this... isn't where he's useful. Not when he doesn't even understand his own heart, or how it aches trying to pull for an answer to Owen's questions and not finding an answer he knows well enough to voice.
The hand that lifts towards Owen pauses, hesitates, falls just as fast.]
...
You're just Owen. That's... all I've ever expected.
[His attentions turns off Owen, directs towards the surf, in the lazy patterns it stretches into the sand under the moonlight.]
...I don't know what else. You're... confusing. You can get annoying. You're stubborn and crass, and I don't like when you treat me like I'm a fool.
But that doesn't happen a lot. Even if you make fun of me, you still at least humor me. You're frank with me. You don't try to convince me that I have to be human. You don't let me get away with things that hold me back. You don't try to convince me I'm a person. You don't expect me to be anything different than exactly what I am... even if you don't always understand what I am.
...
Um. Except... for now, I guess.
[He wants hate. Is that something Otegine can even give him? He supposes it could be easy. Owen pushes his buttons all the time. So...
Why doesn't he, then?
Just tension upon tension, enough to draw a frustrated exhale from him, a hand gripping at the fabric of his own shirt over the pit of his chest, an idle wringing as though it might stop the ache that he doesn't know how to fight, to accept, or to label.]
...I'm sorry. I don't understand, either.
no subject
Owen sighs, scrubbing a hand through his hair. It’s frustrating - he’s not frustrated at Otegine, but rather at himself. Wizards are independent - their relationships are fleeting, like stars passing each other in the sky. Brilliant in the moment, then it ends… but the stars can cross paths time and again, so maybe…
He drops his hands, lips pressing together.]
…I don’t know why I expected answers.
[Hah. He doesn’t sound as harsh as he would want, the venom that protects him watered down by how weak and useless he feels.
At least he’s not the only one that’s confused. For once he’s not alone in his feelings.]
What are we supposed to do now?
no subject
...
A comment like that would normally earn a flinch from him. But it sounds far less like a reprimand this time, vulnerable and lost.
His arms cross tightly in front of him, holding the silence as his answer. He doesn't know, either. But... he knows he doesn't want to leave this space so tense and unspoken. He doesn't want to hesitate.
...
With an exhale, he trudges through the sand, a hesitant touch placed to the back of one of Owen's shoulders.]
...Can I ask you something?
When we walked out here... you asked me what I saw.
Do... you not remember any of it?