πβπΌ βπΌππ βππΎβπ. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nextnightmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
memesinthenight2020-05-20 03:24 pm
nextnightmods) wrote in memesinthenight2020-05-20 03:24 pm
Entry tags:
TEST DRIVE MEME #01
TEST DRIVE MEME #01
Hello and welcome to the The Next Night's test drive meme for May-June! Thanks for your interest in this GPSL! In an effort to streamline our application process and avoid future confusion between incoming and existing players, we do not have a reservation period. Applications will be judged on a first-come, first-served basis.
At this point in time, characters have not yet ICly unlocked the ability to bring in new people. However, we hope that will change in June! As soon as we set a date for applications to open, we will post an update to the OOC community as well as to plurk.
While you're here...
- Take a look at our rules and faq pages to familiarize yourself with The Next Night.
- Note that we will have an application cap of 20 apps for new players for this upcoming round only, and that the game has a player cap of 60. In future months we expect to limit this to 10 apps per round. An accurate count of current players will always be available on the taken page.
- TDM threads can become game canon if both players wish. If the situation isn't something that could happen in-game, you're free to chalk it up to some strange hallucination, a shared dream, or other mysterious circumstance.
- Threads with new arrivals must ICly take place after the mechanism for bringing in new characters has been re-enabled in order to be kept canon. We understand this makes keeping track of dates a bit tricky and may require some timey-wimey handwaving but please try to keep this in mind when deciding if a thread can be canon or not.
- Note that top-leveling is not limited to new characters! If current players wish to post a starter, they are welcome to do so. They are welcome to make posts in the main comms for TDM events as well. Please note, however, that actual plot clues or happenings will not occur in TDM prompts. In addition, any threads from the TDM will be forward dated to when these mechanics are restored.
- If you plan to apply, please keep in mind that we do require at least one sample thread on the application to be from our TDM (though it doesn't need to be the current TDM).
- You're welcome to use the provided prompts or come up with something on your own, but we do ask that all threads take place in our game's setting.
- As we no longer plan to have a bimonthly game-wide HMD meme, we will require all new applications going forward to have a HMD post somewhere on the journal and we will ask for this as part of the application process.
Thank you again, and we hope you'll choose to join us!
log prompts
EMERGENCY LANDING.
You've arrived.
Where, exactly? Well, that's quite hard to say. All around you is darkness. Even the stars above seem dimmed, as if it were possible to turn down the brightness on the sky. The only light immediately apparent is a lantern placed directly beside you. The handy-dandy tablet also provides light, but not enough to help much. Seems like you're going to have to find your way in the darkness.
Whether you find yourself in a dusted, rusted old amusement park, a spectacularly creepy abandoned orphanage, or what seems to be a museum with a very abrupt water feature in the middle of it, it's very clear you're not where you were when you closed your eyes. If you look back, what do you remember? Your death could be vivid, complete with the injuries that brought it, or a distant memory that almost seems like a dream. Either way it sticks to the back of your mind, whether you want it to or not.
And it might not be the best of ideas to worry about how you died or how you got here alone in the dark. Because turns out, maybe you aren't so alone after all. It might be a feeling, a crawl up your spine. Or sounds, bumps and wheezes and scratches hidden in the dark. Or it might be eyes, shining out in the shadows. It might be a good idea to start running, and hope you aren't the only one that found yourself stranded in this strange place.
Whatever you do, make sure you bring that lantern with you. Diverting too far from it makes you feel faint, and pushing past that feeling is not advised.
Turns out, it's not just new Beaconites that are turning up all over the place. The automated system is doing its best, but, there's some kinks to work out. The good news is, there's supplies coming into Beacon after almost two months of nothing! The bad news is, the supplies are showing up all over the place, with no rhyme or reason.
There are blankets and clothing items scattered on the dilapidated track of the Euthanasia coaster. There's a pile of food in the midst of the mostly destroyed sculpture garden, almost looking like an artistic statement on consumerism. Need some new tools? Hope you like climbing, because they seem to be precariously balanced in the branches of trees. There's a fax machine settled by the Bonfire, and nobody really knows what that's about.
Whatever it is you find, it's all helpful things that the residents of town could probably use. Though, admittedly, it'd be more helpful if it were in a place it could be used. Just like cargo off the ferry, it'd be a good idea to haul all this stuff from its landing place to the store, or wherever else it might be helpful. Or for those feeling less charitable, just grab what looks good and squirrel it away. Surely nobody is around to mind that you're helping yourself to more than your fair share!
As a final warning — tread with caution. Because with everything appearing at relative random, the next place it appears could be directly above you. And nobody wants to be under a pile of building materials when it ultimately lands.
KATAKLYSMOS.
All around you are signs of a devastating flood. Debris is still washed up against trees and buildings, walls have been knocked over, roofs caved in, and there's even a massive sinkhole in the Town Hall. Sandbags and trenches decorate the salvaged buildings.
And to the forest spirits, this seems to be cause for celebration! Are they excited that everything flooded? Are they just trying to cheer people up? Is this some festive holiday they've adopted from previous Beacon residents? Hard to say. But little pop-up booths reminiscent of a street market start to take shape around town, made out of collapsed homes and downed trees. The spirits offer snacks and drinks (probably pilfered from whatever was left of the sorry supplies, so think sliced spam and Tang), and "souvenirs" of people's ruined personal belongings that had washed out of their homes.
The best part, though? Water-based activities, fun for the whole family! Yes, the spirits are running around with buckets full of water to dump on everyone! Congrats, you survived the flood, here's more water! Watch out - if they can't find buckets they might just steal your shoes or hat and fill those with water instead!
As with most forest spirit prompts, feel free to NPC them yourselves - they're of slightly above animal intelligence and will come up with inventive ways to get you soaking wet when you least expect it.
network prompts
TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES.
So you've found yourself in Beacon's eternal darkness. Well done! One of the first things most do here is check out the folding tablet they arrived with. On opening it, a prompt requests that you enter a network username.
But the instant you hit "OK", the screen redirects you to a welcome app. Which seems like it should be a good thing! But whether you select that you'd like it to be read aloud or if you would rather read it yourself, it seems to be a completely glitchy, bizarre mess. Parts are barely readable, but some parts look perhaps intentionally altered. Surely this isn't how the people of Beacon intended to welcome you, right?
Once it finishes, or once you manage to close out of it (a challenge, perhaps, since finding the right button on the screen to touch is difficult - the X shifts, the screen gets covered in static, and what is that sound) the network opens, prompting you to read the latest posts or make a post of your own.
WHISPERS IN THE DARK.
It's late. Or it feels late, it's always hard to tell in Beacon. Something pulled you from sleep, or whatever you were working on. A whisper, just nearby. A familiar voice, quiet and distant, and getting increasingly louder.
After some investigation, it becomes apparent the voice is coming from the tablet. There's a cryptic post, asking simply Do you hear me? And any time that particular post is pulled up, the voices won't stop.
The voices are distinctly ones that seem familiar. Maybe someone you've met in Beacon. Maybe someone you knew before then. Maybe it's someone you shouldn't be able to hear at all, and yet, you do.
There's no chance at actual conversation, though — the voice is simply asking if it can be heard. Softly, at first. A tinge confused, in some cases. The confusion escalates and is tainted by panic, as the voice keeps calling for an answer, an acknowledgment, that seems impossible to give. Even as the voice begs to be heard, please, please just say you can hear me, even as it fades into screams of frustration or terrified tears, no amount of response seems to break through.
The comments are open — maybe you can get your answers that way?
| QUICKNAV | |||
| comms | | | network β’ logs β’ memes β’ ooc | |
| pages | | | rules β’ faq β’ taken β’ mod contact β’ player contact β’ calendar β’ setting β’ exploration β’ item requests β’ full nav | |
no subject
he follows, quiet and watchful, at least until cora..... crashes down, and wow, nothing's changed in that regard, huh?
he can't help it — law bites down on a chuckle, soundless, with a slight, genuine smile on his lips. he says nothing, though, and simply keeps on following cora. and if there's even the slightest indication of them needing to get away fast from their current spot, at least now he knows which direction they're supposed to go. ]
no subject
Ten minutes, it turns out, is just about right. Make it twelve before the glass panels of the greenhouse emerge from the trees, lit by the torch inside. Rosinante heads straight to it and looks around to see if Xayah or any of the other regulars are inside, but it's empty at the moment aside from the lush vegetation inside - though anything that ought to bear edible material looks like it's been picked over very thoroughly.]
Guess Xayah isn't around right now or I'd introduce you. She was trying to show me how to grow tomatoes and cabbage.
[But that's for another time. He adjusts the strap across his chest so his lantern hangs higher, rather than tucked down by his hip, letting the light shine more visibly now that they're in known territory, and leads the way around the building and onto the path heading north. Ahead, a makeshift bridge of logs and rope is just visible out in the darkness where it spans what sounds like a very hungry, rushing little river.]
How long had you been out there before I found you? Did you get a chance to look at the information on the network?
no subject
he simply cocks his eyebrow at the mention of tomatoes and cabbage — hah, cabbage, he feels a flash of irritation just thinking of the guy. pushing the feeling away, he files "xayah" and "gardening" under the ever-growing list of things to ask about later, for now content to follow, not letting his guard down even though it seems like they've made it to safer territory. ]
Not more than an hour, [ he says in response, not having exactly counted but certain that it can't have been long. ]
I did, but that was useless. The text kept jumping around, and parts were completely illegible. [ a sigh. ] I take it that's not how it's supposed to be.
no subject
[He frowns at the darkness. This place is confusing enough for new folks who get the information they're supposed to have. It's probably even worse with that garbled mess than nothing at all.]
No, we had a big flood in the spring that trashed a lot of town. Not sure if somehow they're related, but the welcome information got corrupted at the same time. Someone will have to re-record it. It used to explain some of what's going on here. I thought of it because Xayah is from some other world than ours. Most people here are, actually. From ours it's just you and me and, uh. Some young woman named Pudding, but she doesn't know I know she's from our world.
[Seems safe enough to say that out loud. He'd see lantern light if they weren't alone, and the noise of the river helps. If only he could work out how to keep his silence bubble centered on them both while they move - but oh well.]
no subject
the fact that there are other worlds than theirs is intriguing, but when pudding is mentioned, law's eyes widen. ]
Pudding? [ wait, hasn't he heard that name before?
... no way, it can't be. ] Charlotte Pudding? [ what the hell. that is definitely the name of blackleg-ya's intended bride (and now he's glad he forced some kind of an explanation of the whole deal out of his allied crew), but he hadn't said anything about her being dead — maybe they didn't know? maybe big mom had killed her own daughter in anger, after the strawhats had escaped? there'd been nothing in the newspapers about it, either.
quickly, he elaborates: ]
If that is who I think it is... she'll recognize me, [ he says flatly. he may have never seen her or spoken to her, but he knows him joining the warlords gained a lot of publicity, as did the whole of dressrosa and the heart-strawhat alliance. ] Will that be a problem?
[ he doesn't care if he gets recognized — but if cora wants to keep his identity a secret... then that's what he'll strive to do, too. ]
no subject
[His turn to be surprised, and he actually stops walking entirely for a second to double-check they are indeed alone, then cups his chin in his hand for a moment as he thinks, then shakes his head.
Pudding could be anyone, but he absolutely knows the name Charlotte.]
She never said her surname and it's not on the network. I don't know. It could be a coincidence. She's pale, brown hair, likes baking...
[Shit. Yeah, that's... Okay, there could be more than one Pudding in the world who likes baked goods and sweets. But.]
Should it be a problem? I don't really know her well. Maybe - hold that thought. Let me show you to where I've been staying. It's too easy to be overheard out here while we're still on the move.
no subject
[ big mom doesn't have a particularly good reputation, after all... and her last name happens to be one that most from their world would recognize.
he sighs. ] I don't care if she knows who I am. [ he's confident in his abilities in stopping her in case she tries to cause trouble. what he's more concerned about is that if cora's kept it from her that he comes from the same world, then the two of them associating with each other would blow his cover immediately. law's reputation isn't that of a friendly person, after all — if he's willingly sticking close to someone, it's someone he knows from their homeworld.
but instead of elaborating on that, he simply nods; this conversation, along with all the others, can wait for now. ]
The inn, [ he says instead, as if to confirm. he just hopes it's not far. ]
no subject
[If she is in fact a Charlotte. His own family name shows up on the network, but he doesn't exactly go shouting it to everyone he meets, either. For the most part here it just hasn't mattered as for the better part of a year he's been the only one here from their world and as a result has had no reason to hide his name - everyone here knows him as a good, helpful, dedicated soldier who saved a little boy, and very few know anything else about him. Having someone turn up coincidentally from his world who he has never heard of was never really a concern.
But if she's a Charlotte, well. That might mean some things need to be reconsidered. Especially if she recognizes Law. It's something they can talk through together, though, make sure they're on the same page, and that's exciting. No longer a dying child, Law is someone he can work with here. They're equals. Oh, there's that thrill of pride and joy again, just thinking about it!
His emotions are all over the place right now, bouncing between intent focus and giddy excitement. Relief that they're reunited, and yet mourning that same fact. He stays rooted to the spot for a few seconds longer before he just shakes his head and sighs. All this and he still hasn't found any damned cigarettes all day and he could use about twenty right now.]
Just over the bridge ahead. Twenty minutes if we walk fast.
[Which he can, he's got his very long legs, but he glances down at Law with a smile as he tries to make sure their paces can match so he's not leaving the boy - man - in the dust.]
There's another bridge over the fork that's east of here - I'll show you the map later. This one's more solid, though. You don't want to mess with the river, it's deeper and faster than it looks. Sings, too, sometimes. Makes you see visions of yourself drowning if you get too close, so be careful around it.
no subject
whereas cora's emotions are switching from one to another, law has managed to slam the lid on his — the worst of the shock has worn off, and though the intense relief still simmers under the surface, he's grown to be good — has had to be good — at compartmentalizing, at not letting any one emotion take over... staying calm and rational has been his MO for so long now, it's easy to fall back to it.
quietly, he makes a plan or two (or three) for what to do, should pudding prove to be a problem... and now that he knows others from their world could come here as well, he needs to have a solid plan in place if anyone troublesome happens to show up.
to the time-frame, he simply nods; if he wasn't conserving energy in case of a surprise fight, he'd simply shambles himself over the entire bridge. but as it is, he's not using his power unless he absolutely must. ]
Then we walk fast, [ he says, like that's that. and then, to the explanation of what the river is like, ]
Sounds like fun. [ said rather flatly. at least drowning isn't the worst thing out there, so if all the river does is send visions of that... could be worse. so he starts heading to the bridge. ]
Cora-san, let's keep going. The quicker we get out of here, the quicker you can tell me everything about this place. [ is that impatience in his tone? maybe. ]
no subject
He points out a few landmarks as they pass them - post office there, general "store" here, and indicates the bonfire, burning brightly in the center of the square. There's no need to dwell on these things here and now, though - they're all well-marked on the map in the tablet and besides, Law will have plenty of time to explore them later. The Invincible is just ahead now, and it's clear that the quaint, almost medieval-looking building has been the site of some fierce conflict. There are logs piled around the outside which Rosinante manages to bang his shin on even though he knows exactly where they are and passes them a dozen times a day; there's a deep trench dug around the perimeter of the building with a very basic plank bridge over it, and the scrapped remainders of other sheets of wood as well as what look like tables and bed frames are piled outside the front door, while many of the windows are boarded up.]
Home sweet home, I guess. This is one of the best-defended areas in town. In an emergency we usually try and concentrate people a couple key places, including here, since it's central.
[Inside on the ground floor is a bar and some tables and seating that look to have undergone a few rounds of repair. The walls here are brightly-painted with images of flowers, people, boats - the work of quite a few people, most of whom are not exactly artists, but hell, they tried. He doesn't pay any of it much attention right now and just heads for the stairs up.]
no subject
no, that's not true. getting cora to safety is far more important than anything else.
he glances at all the things cora points out to him, noting them almost absently — but that's only because he's keeping an eye out for anything else. he only relaxes a little when they finally make it to the inn. ]
In an emergency...? [ he doesn't really intend it as a question to be answered, at least not yet, mostly musing out aloud.
after a moment of taking in the ground floor, as well as the wall paintings (and he does raise an eyebrow at those), law follows up the stairs. ]
no subject
[He will first catch his toe on the step and crash down onto the staircase with a muffled yelp, but clinging to the banister keeps him from sliding back down right into Law's face - though uh, hm, whoops, mind the sudden sprawl of very long limbs! He pulls himself back up and flashes a look of apology and concern back at Law, then rights his dislodged hat and checks his lantern before proceeding, clearly fine by his usual definition.]
Sometimes it's the forest spirits, sometimes it's things we don't really understand, like the flooding in April. That storm went on for two weeks and my best guess is the river was involved, which is why it was so bad. Whatever it'll be, it happens often enough that we've had to set up defense points, especially since the first time the spirits turned on us we weren't prepared and something like thirty people were killed in the chaos.
[Up one floor, then another until they reach the top of the stairs at the landing of the third floor. A handful of the doors they pass are open and a few of the rooms look like they've been stripped bare of anything useful, furniture and bedding included.]
no subject
... Cora-san, [ he huffs in exasperation, quickly jumping down a couple of steps to avoid being hit, and somehow he manages to sound both fond and annoyed, a please be more careful mixed with how the hell are you even. at least he's not spontaneously caught on fire yet, that's something. ]
The thing in the forest... was it one of the spirits?
[ he supposes that makes sense, now. as they pass the open doors, he glances inside the rooms, and pointing at one of those without anything useful in it, he asks, ] Is that because of the flood, too, or something else? [ some of the rooms lacking things, that is. ]
no subject
[Not really much more to say about that, unfortunately. They come in all shapes and sizes and he hadn't gotten a very good look at it. Something as tall as the trees? Sure. Just as likely as a pack of twenty rat-sized things prowling through the woods. Such is life out here.
He pauses briefly to look in the door as Law indicates it, then nods.]
Yeah. We ended up using everything we could to keep stuff dry. Stripped a lot of beds of their pillows and sheets to make sandbags.
[For example. It had helped, that's for sure.
He comes to the last room down the hall. The door is closed, and two handprints in red paint are on it - one very large, one very small. He knocks lightly before opening it and heading on inside.
Unlike the empty rooms just before, this one has, uh, character to it. Hung on the walls are some hand-drawn star charts, labeled by season and with many of the stars named while others are circled in red. Law's own smug face is on a couple bounty posters from throughout the years, and Rosinante looks over at them and then smiles a little sheepishly and shakes his head.]
Should probably take those down now, huh.
[But clearly that helped to recognize Law on sight.
The room also has three mattresses - two stacked adjacent to each other for someone far too large for one, while the other is askew slightly to the side and has papers with a child's crayon drawings littered across it. More drawings and paintings are also on the walls here - some literally on the walls rather than on paper first. A few even depict someone who is probably intended to be Rosinante towering cheerfully over a small smiling blonde girl.
The mattresses might be on the floor, but there's also a desk and chair. Rosinante just plops himself down onto a mattress that isn't laden with artwork and unhooks his lantern.]
no subject
when they enter the room, law takes in the decorations (if they can be called such), and when he sees the posters, he. well.
pulls the brim of his hat downward, the only sign that he's somewhat embarrassed. (but then — is he really one to talk? at least cora's not gotten a good look at his tattoos yet, hopefully. or the mark of his pirate crew... or its name... hopefully. goddamn, when he made the decision to dedicate his entire life to cora's legacy, he didn't exactly think he'd ever meet him again and have to own up to all of that.)
to distract himself, he looks around the room, observing the drawings. he guesses the little girl in the drawings is the one who has made them — for a brief, brief moment, he thinks of a little, smiling girl (though with brown hair instead of blonde), and then he quickly, with practiced ease, pushes the memory away.
some of his memories he'd weaponised himself, using them as a tool to push him forward. others... are still too dangerous, weapons he's never really learned to defend himself from. so he locks them away instead.
he grabs kikoku, and setting it to lean against the wall, he simply sits down on the floor, right next to the door.
then, with a nod towards the posters, ] Are those... how you knew? About Dressrosa?
[ if he'd somehow got his hands on his bounty posters, maybe he got some information about what happened, too. ]
no subject
[He tips his chin toward the closet where they are presumably stored, then, with the door closed and both inside, he snaps his fingers.]
Silent.
[That's better. He doesn't expect anyone to secretly be listening in, but he's always been a private person. Then he smiles again, warmly, and leans forward a little in his seat. Evidently he's forgotten all about the state his makeup is in.
Law is too far away to hug which is probably good or he'd devolve into just clinging to him and crying again. He's not over this and he's still half-wondering if it's all going to go away the next time he blinks.]
I - don't know where to start. Um. I read a little about Dressrosa though, yeah. The official version, of course, has the Marines come in and put everything to order after you and the... Straw Hat Pirates? Ran rampant through the country. But I figured, since Doflamingo and the others ended up in prison, after he'd apparently been king... I figured that was you. Wasn't it?
[Hard to say exactly how he feels about all that and ultimately the true story will help him decide. He's glad to have his brother behind bars finally, that's not even in question - he was long overdue for it. But it would have been horrendously dangerous for Law, and - well, frankly, Law is here and dead, so it seems dangerous things were a part of his life. Who and what has he really become?]
no subject
... not that it's necessarily a good distraction. here, without anything else to think of, the paralyzing certainty that cora will absolutely hate every single thing he's done and become in life is back. he did everything, everything for cora's sake, to keep his will alive, to finish his mission. but sengoku made him realize it likely wasn't what cora would have wanted for him. had he lived freely?
no. but it was a decision he'd made on his own.
he wonders just how much of his life he can keep from telling cora — about his reputation, everything he'd done to become a warlord, the entire plan to free dressrosa... if it was just the two of them here, it wouldn't be an issue. but pudding is a problem in this, too: she'd be able to tell cora just exactly how terrible law's reputation really is. (not that he wants to keep things from him... only, he can't stand the thought of disappointing him. and he knows his life choices have likely been nothing but a disappointment.)
... shit. what a mess.
in the end, though, he knows there are some things he has to be truthful about. and so he lifts his gaze, looks at cora, even though it looks like it pains him, to say what he's about to say. ]
... Yeah. But Cora-san — I'm sorry! [ his voice shakes, with genuine anguish and anger, mostly directed at himself. ] It took me thirteen years to finish what you started. And even then... even then! It was Straw Hat-ya who defeated Doflamingo. I could only beat Vergo and Trebol.
[ ... "only". and though he has no intention to ever tell cora about his fights with doflamingo, or the damage he took, or really any of that, a few things are probably clear anyway — if he couldn't beat doflamingo, that means he tried. and failed. ]
no subject
[So much for space between them. He scrambles forward so he can sit beside Law instead but rests a hand on his shoulder so as not to completely overwhelm the guy. With wide eyes and a worried frown, his concern is written all over his face.
The words register and they're surely important but they're not his priority right now.]
You don't need to be sorry. Law, please. I don't- you don't need to justify any of it.
[He wants to hear every detail, but they have time. More important is that Law knows he's welcome here, that he's loved no matter what.]
no subject
How can you say that?! Your mission failed because of me! Doflamingo took over Dressrosa and no one even tried to stop him! I was the only one who could do something, and I —
I...
[ suddenly, he seems to run out of steam, his anger deflating. he turns away from cora, presses his palm over his eyes.
because talking about cora's mission reminds him of something else... a hurt so old he's not even angry about it anymore. and so he says, quiet, tired, ]
... you lied to me. You — you were supposed to survive, too.
How could you not know I didn't want anything to do with a world where you weren't alive?
[ the only reason law had stayed alive all these years was because he had a goal. had he not had that... ]
no subject
That accusation hurts more than he thought it would, even if it was one he had predicted. For so much of this past year, and the first few months after death especially, he had wrestled with what he had done and what the outcome might be - not for the world so much as for one little boy. As much as he had betrayed everyone else to protect Law, he had essentially betrayed Law too in order to make that happen and he deserves the backlash.
He'd still do it all over again, though, or so he had thought, until this moment. The papers had called his crew the Heart Pirates, which he had indeed noticed and thought was an endearing and unexpected homage. Going after his brother was insane recklessness that he would never have encouraged, but getting him and every one of those monsters that he called family locked up was more than just dedication to freeing a country - even through the limitations of publicly-consumable news he could see the revenge for what it was. On noticing Vergo wasn't listed among those apprehended, he had dug back farther in the stack of papers and found an obituary tied to an accident at a government science facility, for the death of a vice admiral was no small thing (and how it made his blood utterly boil at the thought of him staying undiscovered for so long that he attained such a rank!).
Law had, without knowing, sent a message across time and space and it had been optimistically received as love. He had worried, because none of this was necessary and all of it was far too dangerous and why couldn't Law have just taken a quieter path and become a skilled surgeon without feeling so tied down by my failures, but he thought that surely now Law could be satisfied and move on. He wasn't in a position to have the perspective he needed in order to see how much pain he had left Law in.
His mission failed because he gave up on it, but he can't argue without making Law feel even worse, so he doesn't protest. And yes, he lied, to a lot of people about a lot of things, all in the name of trying to achieve a greater good, and what could be greater than giving back life and hope to a kid who thought he had lost both?
Why is Law dead now? He's frightened by what the answer might be, suddenly.]
Law... I'm sorry.
[He doesn't think an apology will cut it, but it's all he has. Explanations, justifications, won't change how Law feels.]
I gave everything I could to make sure you had a real chance at life. You deserved that. I - couldn't stand the thought of a world where you didn't even get to grow up and follow your own dreams.
well this was a rollercoaster and a half
Damn it, [ law mutters, his breath hitching dangerously until he swallows down the urge to cry again. sengoku had been right. all cora had wanted for him was to live. instead —
well, he had lived, so at least there's that. and he had followed his dream; only, it hadn't been anything cora would have wanted for him. ]
... you gave me a life and a heart, [ he says quietly, having admitted as much to sengoku so it's only with slight difficulty that he gets the words out here, ] I owe you everything for that. That's why...
[ no, he can't tell him about how everything he'd ever done in life for the past thirteen years was for his sake. better if cora thinks it was just for revenge that he went after doflamingo and the family. if there's even the slightest chance of cora feeling guilty because law went and decided to dedicate his entire life to his memory and legacy, then it's better he say nothing at all about it.
it's funny, how many things it seems he can't say anything about: the way he'd decided to live his life, or the way he'd decided to give it up at dressrosa if he needed — his plans were always succeed or die, or succeed and die, as he'd calculated the chances of him making it out alive and they'd come up close to zero. but it had been something he'd been willing to do... and when he'd made it out against all odds, how long had he lived? hah, cora would be upset about that, too. that instead of deciding to live his life freely, he'd gone on to help liberate another country, consciously and willingly angering one of the yonko.
no, best he not speak much of his death, either.
so what the hell does that leave, then?
a memory flashes in his mind, one he's relived over and over and over again, both asleep and awake — a treasure chest, the lid closing, his voice gone. unable to say —
no. no. never again. if this is all a dream, or a figment of his imagination, or something that'll disappear on him soon... whatever it is, reality or not, law won't have regrets. not anymore. this might be the only chance he has. ] You didn't wait, either.
[ for what? well. he draws a breath, and though his voice is barely more than a whisper, it's there nonetheless: ] ... I love you too, Cora-san.
me @ every tag in this thread tbh
As someone who has received very little love in his life, maybe that's just what he had wanted to see in those articles.
But before his own deep insecurities can run too rampant in his head, before he can second-guess himself for the hundredth time, Law whispers those words back to him. For a moment he sits as if unable to move, simply keeping his watery eyes on Law's face, and then he leans forward again and wraps his long arms around Law's shoulders, pulling him to a firm embrace as those goddamned tears come right back.]
Thank you.
no subject
he blinks furiously, long enough to make them go away. ]
I couldn't tell you, before... [ well. before everything. ] And then you were gone and all I could think was you died without ever knowing —
[ it had seemed so unfair. but now... now he knows, and the relief that law feels is almost crushing. that particular nightmare can never get to him again. he's finally fixed one of his biggest regrets. ]
no subject
[He isn't going to tell Law how much he wondered and doubted. The guy clearly feels bad enough for so many reasons and he doesn't need to pile more on him. It doesn't matter anyway. Now he knows for certain.
He's still full of questions but he's afraid to ask some of them. He wants to know what the clothes are about, what Law was doing last, but that necessarily means tackling the subject of Law's death which is going to be much too raw given he just arrived, and probably too difficult for Rosinante himself to hear right now. There will be time. Instead, he'll offer something about his un-life here - that ought to be safe enough.]
I've been doing all right. Even have a couple friends here. But I thought about you every day. I've missed you.
[And while he would never have wished for Law to die so young and join him in this awful place, he can't help but feel glad to have him back. They may not have known each other long in the overall scheme of things, but they belong together.]
no subject
and though he's never been one to voice, well, most emotional things that exist, he's learned his lesson of not getting to say the things he thinks. which is why he's quick to respond, quietly still, ] I missed you too.
[ every single day for thirteen years. some days were better, some days were worse, but it was always there.
a sharp voice in his head reminds him that while cora may have missed him, he missed the child he used to be — not him as he is now.
to distract himself from the thought, law continues, ]
... Tell me more about this place. Where are we? How long have you been here? [ long enough to make friends, it seems. which is both good (he's glad cora's not been entirely alone) and bad (he's been here long enough for that, and this place doesn't seem safe). ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)