balance_logs | Field Mission 5: Il Prigioniero, Part 3

Field Mission 5: Il Prigioniero, Part 3

	They had discovered one could grow as hungry for light as for food.
	NAVIGATION

1. THE FATE OF WONDERLAND

A. CRESCENDO; FINALE

The beauty of the sentient mind is that hope is hard to kill. Even living in illusion for so long, the Bureau of Balance as a whole believed to the end that a happy ending was possible in Wonderland. That's a good thing, even if an unrealistic dream. Without that vision, that hope, there's no way to succeed. You all know that, don't you?

You knew it when you went back into the tree to save absolutely anyone that you could. Strangers some of them. Strangers most of them. It didn't matter. There's a happy ending to this story; everyone believed in it as surely as they carried out the innocent, as surely as they carried out each other.

You knew it when you got crafty with needle and thread, trying to reassemble the cruel joke Wonderland made with those who lost their way and fell into debt. Nine bodies are saved — including Henrik's, Henrik whose soul is reattached to his body, Henrik whose shaking arms can finally reach out to hold his son.

You knew it when you spoke to a dying Yggdrasil, Maya taking in the suffering and sickness of its years, listening with an open heart until, suddenly, as the tree's consciousness began to collapse, she was taken Somewhere Else. To speak with a man in a sharp suit with places to be. Things to do. Planar systems to devour. You know how it is. A poisoned arrow to Yggdrasil's open wound brought it down for good, leaving Shuichi to hurriedly plant the new Golden Leaf for a new World Tree; leaving Sayori and Angus McDonald to pick up the pieces of their dazed comrades.

You knew it when you tricked the Mirror Maze into glitching apart, giving it quite simply too much to keep track of. The fact that you found a helper along the way certainly didn't hurt, but let's face it: this was genius. The reward is Niel, crystallized, encasing the Compact. Suffering, as he has been for a very long time.

You knew it when three warlocks and a very angry wizard embarked on an ultimately suicidal mission, which just goes to show that the best-laid plans of mice and men sometimes lead to a 50% vore rate. A desperate attempt to keep Adrian distracted for long enough that the Compact could be retrieved was only able to delay him in the end. Just because success is possible doesn't make it guaranteed. Sometimes a fight with the villain ends in stalemate.

Sometimes a fight with the villain isn't a fight at all. Sometimes it's an outstretched hand (or two, or four), and sacrifices from each member of the party, and pain, and . . . self-awareness. Sometimes the villain just wants to let go. Sometimes there are happy endings, but this time Niel — fused into the Tree itself, his life tied up in the dying Yggdrasil, extended by the Compact — just wants it to stop. He doesn't want to hurt anyone anymore.

His friends are holding his hands as they take the Compact and make it stop.

This isn't a happy ending. But that isn't your fault. Hope for a happy ending has, quite literally, saved the world.

The nightmare is over. Wonderland slips away.

2. ON THE EDGE OF THE HORIZON

B. THE PEOPLE

And as suddenly as the myriad indulgences of Wonderland went to ... well, complete shit, there's something of a metaphorical blink of light. Those who were meant to be dead are - both your fellow Reclaimers and the Rolands who could not be fixed in time - but there is still many that are saved. Injuries knot back together at the slightest curative magic. Smog and negativity vanish like they never were, taking the last shambling monsters away with it. The souls of Shadowdale that you have returned to their respective bodies have a new life to forge. Things can be fixed.

If only it were that easy.

Shadowdale, for all intents and purposes, is uninhabitable. For the first time since the Bureau's mission began, an entire city population has lost its home, and must move on. No matter how much blame you may place on yourself for the way things turned out, whether it's guilt or hope that drives you forward, time, and the cycle of life itself, spins onward. And the people who live march on.

To New New Aspen.

Matthew has promised to bring the survivors of Shadowdale to his home, to give them a new chance. You have a couple of options here, if you would like to help them. You may serve as guard, helping escort the people of Shadowdale to New New Aspen. Super convenient for you, since it's right by the Moon Base! You may help them build and settle.

The people of New New Aspen, only months away from Candlenights, are hard at work carving their annual ornaments. You may help the new residents acclimate - whether it's helping them work the fields, start a business, or take part in their new home's most coveted tradition. And you'll have a new ornament to bring home with you, too.

C. THE FOREST

The deadened woods you traveled through to reach Shadowdale at the beginning of this mission seem somehow even more silent, cloaked in demise, than when you first stepped in it. The madness is gone, replaced with double the silence, a stillness like nothing you've ever experienced before. It's almost as if your senses, save for however you perceive the light of the sun, are gone.

At least, until someone speaks to you. A wood elf - he doesn't give you his name, but he does identify himself as someone who was trapped. Someone who, through your efforts to restore the Rolands, you gave life to again.

And he does have a request for you.

"This place has little hope for revival," he says, sniffing slightly, taking in the silence around you both. "At least, it has little hope in your lifetime.

But I do have something to ask of you. Give this place life, the way you did for the people here. Even if you, or even I, for that matter, will never likely live long enough to see it."

That's sort of an existential way of asking you to do some hardcore landscaping. But you will be provided with seeds of all sorts, and you will have the opportunity to plant them as you see fit. If you would like to build a shrine, or remember those who lost their lives here in some other way, you are free to do that as well.

There's something else curious, though: literally anything you plant, regardless of what it is, will eventually produce a viable bud sprouting from the gray, dry soil.

What does that even mean? If you plant a book of poems, are you going to get a poetree?

Are you even going to live long enough to see it in full bloom?

D. THE EXHAUSTION

You might not be on Lucretia levels of exhausted (she is, remember, zonked, and will remain so all the way back to the Moon Base and beyond for a while), but this has not been an easy mission for anyone who dared to test this Grand Relic's powers.

Whether you return from New New Aspen, or whether you finally catch a ride back to the Moon Base from the forest, you are now free to return home. This is your welcome home wildcard, a chance for you to try to recuperate, address anything at all before the next Lunar Interlude begins.

You will find that the Moon Base has an awfully somber feel to it, from the inner members of the Bureau to the people serving the Reclaimers in the town. Word is starting to trickle in on what you all went through.

blurb code by photosynthesis

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[She nods and keeps nodding, not fully satisfied but comforted to have this much. Swallows again. Erika doesn't seem panicked - it's been long enough to be away from that - but she does seem to be sitting on an edge of tension, ready to patiently tip over into real tears as soon as it's not in the way of whatever else she thinks she needs to square away.]

Crowley and Ferran?

Recovering. [ It's alright. He got them all back. He got all of them back. ] I... I haven't been in to see them yet, but they're here. At the base.

[And that's...not that, but it's a lot. She blinks and whoops there they are, welling up as patiently as promised.

She breathes out a shuddery sigh.]

Sorry you had to worry. And to - see that - but I'm g- glad it worked.

[It sounds faintly like she rehearsed that. Perhaps without the crying.]

[ Oh... Oh, well. He surely can't blame her for that. He had his fair share of that, after...

After all of them fell. Alex swallows, and shakes his head quickly. ]

It's- it's okay. I'm just glad you're awake and...and here.

[Nods again. Whew.

And with that - there's plenty more to say to him, ask him, whatever, but for right now she really can't. Call it burnout, call it whatever, it's kept her compliant in resting instead of plotting her way to early discharge, like there's a certain amount of inner turmoil she needs to bleed off before she can go back to everyday life without going batshit.

So she's just low-grade crying on his hand for now.]

[ You know, honestly?

Who could really blame her. Alex feels his throat go tight and he's not sure what to do, but maybe there's not much he should do. His voice drops low, just still loud enough for her to hear. ]

S'okay. Just... [ What happened to you? Do you know? He doesn't ask that. That's for her to say, on her own time. ] ...Just take all the time you need. I'm not going anywhere.

[Nodding, nodding.

After a few minutes, she - hasn't quite stopped crying, but she seems to not mind talking through the occasional hitch or sniffle.]

I'm staying another day or - something, just to - I'm basically fine, but just to be sure. Don't want to, but it's, it's for the best. [And after that comes...everything after that, but it's a future. That's worth a lot. Erika slowly releases her two-handed grip, letting the arm with Alex's hand fall back to her side and letting its fingers go lax.] You're not back in the dorms yet?

[ You know, he's spoken a bit with Mia but still Alex has no idea what to tell people. He hesitates for a few seconds as he lets his hand fall, leavin it on the edge of her bed. ]

There's...a few things Dr. Tank wants to keep an eye on. And I do too. Better safe than sorry. Same as you.

[ It's not quite a lie. Still, he says that with conviction. ]

[Same as you...god. She weird-giggles through the sniffling.]

Hope not.

Not exactly.

[ A very light smile. ]

How're you feeling? In general.

[sigh.]

Empty. As in burned-out. [Thinking frown, staring at the ceiling.] Um...relieved. Nobody's given me bad news yet. Except the casualty counts.

[There needs to be a nice concise word for the sensation of post-disaster metamorphosis. "Confused" is insufficient.]

...Mostly just burned-out.

No bad news to give. [ ...Ah. ] Except that... Well, she was right. Niel died, when they got the Compact.

[ They anticipated that, though. Alex grimaces, like in actual pain. ]

Can you... Do you know...what happened to you?

[She nods sympathetically. Yeah...fuck relics :( ]

Before I woke up, you mean? [She looks pensive in an earnest way, openly uncertain.] Um, you don't have to sound so nervous. I think it was just one more illusion for the road. Like a weird dream.

[ To explain, quickly: ] Just trying to... I don't know, I know sometimes when something...bad happens, some people have a hard time focusing on it. Don't wanna make it worse.

But... If it was more like a dream... [ He wets his lips thoughtfully. ] Like... What?

[She swings that arm in the direction of his in a very "don't worry about it" kind of slapping way. Huizi drops onto his head.]

Like...I don't know how to describe what happened. It was... [She sighs through her nose. Verbalizing it is already transforming the memory, and as unpleasant a memory as it is, uncertainty only makes it more so.] There was a room with no exits. And another me. And time was...distorted, maybe?

Another you?

[ Like a dream already makes it hard for her to describe, it seems. Alex frowns in thought. ]

Was it... Was it like you were trapped?

[It's uncomfortable to think about it in those terms, so Erika pauses first, but:]

Mmhm.

That fucking die...

[ It's impossible to ignore her discomfort. Alex shakes his head and grumbles. ]

How long...did you think you were there for?

[Erika hauls in one last big sniff to scoop back the last of the crying...by-products?

You know what I mean.

It's all or nothing, she guesses. Waffling about the contents of the illusion is worse than either putting off thinking about it entirely or defining it in full. SIGH again, which she's doing a lot lately, but in her defense it's a nice way to center yourself when your brain is wrapped around a big pile of fuck.]

Well, I don't know. [Hitches herself up a little on the bed.] First of all, there weren't any windows or doors, so it could have been days or it could have been hours. I didn't get tired or hungry, but that doesn't mean anything. And looking back, it feels like it could have been long or short. Memories are just like that. Parts of what she said to me stick out, and some are cut off, and the time between the important parts is condensed. Not any different from the - the fight. [Breathes through her nose - and she winds up a little to answer the actual spirit of the question that Alex is asking, because that's part of this whole diving right in thing.] How long it was isn't really - it's not important. I mean, it's secondary. It was disturbing. Uh, is. Mostly because it made it hard to remember what happened before. Memories are physical...present objects...never mind, forget that. It's just....

[She doesn't like being this flustered when she explains something. Erika glowers at the far wall, distantly upset.]

[ Alex listens to her silently. It's her horror to puzzle out, he's just there as a sounding board. What it sounds like... She was trapped in an illusion. But... ]

Nah, it's okay. [ His voice is soft. ] I understand, it's... When there's no anchor, it's like...did any of that even happen? Have I just...been here, the whole time? 'Course it's hard to know.

[Her expression softens. She looks at him thoughtfully, barely turning her head. There's an awkward pause before an awkward half-question.]

Wonderland?

[ A light, awkward laugh. ]

Uh. No, actually, that... That was before all this. I, uh... [ He sighs, lightly. ] I was dead. When the Director pulled us in here, that...that's where I was. Just kinda...in the void, in the blackness. How long, I don't know. But it...it sounded like that.

[She receives this news with absolutely no shock or fanfare; just a nod and a gap of somber silence, and a gaze that's sticking to him instead of wandering back to the ceiling, and some feelings she keeps to herself.]

...I've never been regular dead, but I've not-existed. Close to dead in certain ways. [god what a fucking jamjar thing to say] And...things like amnesia. Different kinds of - distortions of perception and memory. Things like that.

[...]

Yours sounds like amnesia. You don't have...physically, a brain capturing those memories. But there's still an interval. Not instant, not defined, so it's not - a duration of zero, just no duration. Which is a separate sensation.

[Her voice drops in volume a little, private and wondering.]

[ Yeah what the actual fuck. The admission of non-existence elicits a raised eyebrow, a bit of a gasp. He lets that sink in fully. ]

Jeez... Yeah, I'd bet.

That how amnesia works? ...I never read up on that, back home, so...I'll have to take your word for it. I know I didn't have a body, I...don't think. ...Even though... [ The picture that was on him, he still has that. Strange. So, so strange. ] It's weird. No matter how much I learn about all this, there's still so much I don't know.

[This is the most removed she's ever been from that experience. The memories are hers, but she was someone else then. It's strange and incredible to not feel consumed by it.]

A lot of things aren't knowable. A living brain can't simulate being something other than a living brain. [Was that a weird thing to say? That was kind of weird. Who cares.] It's nice to have a second chance anyways.

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rockymountaindie - 2019-10-18 20:39 (UTC) - Expand

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