JUMP TO MONTHLY PROMPT ↓
A TRAIN COMES INTO THE STATION.
You wake up on a train.
Your phone is buzzing. It's in your pocket, in your hand, on the seat next to you. It's a normal phone, and you're on a normal train car. One of the lights flickers, a little further down. The world is very quiet. It feels like you're right where you're meant to be. On the phone's surface is a white screen and the words—
WELCOME TO THE CITY. BEGIN ORIENTATION?
▶ NO
Please take a moment to complete your orientation.
Once you're finished, the subway doors slide open to let you out onto the train platform. To your right, the platform continues on and eventually ends; to the left is a set of stairs that will lead you up into the station itself. The platform is quiet, clean, empty—there's no one else around, and the only sounds you can hear are your own footsteps, your own breaths, and the occasional faraway sound of a creaking pipe or rush of air. The train you disembarked will stay there as long as you do, its doors still open, until you finally decide to venture up into this new locale.
As you make your way up the stairs to your left, you find yourself in the belly of City Hall station. The station is large, a sprawling underground mini-metropolis of corridors and storefronts. Here, you may find others like you, freshly-arrived city residents from other realms (or even your own). There is also a subway map, which will give you an idea of the layout of the neighborhood, and ticketing machines, which can currently only be used to buy tickets to a handful of stations located on lines 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 9.
If you're hungry or in need of any kind of supplies, there are plenty of storefronts inside the subway station as well—snack stands, convenience stores, restaurants, clothing stores, a pharmacy, and a variety of empty shops that may or may not have ever been in use. Everything is unlocked, and you can take whatever you need.
Characters may stay on the train platform indefinitely, and may re-board and re-disembark from the subway as many times as they like, but the train will not depart nor will the doors close. Once they go up the stairs into the train station, they may hear the train doors closing and the train departing. Another train will not arrive, no matter how long the character waits. Only once they come up the stairs into the station itself may characters encounter their fellow newly-arrived residents and take advantage of what the city has to offer.
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WELCOME TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD.
The station is located in the city center. It has three major exits that lead to areas of interest in the district, but there are several other smaller exits that lead in other directions around the neighborhood. You are welcome to use any of them, but may find the north, southwest, and east exits to be the most welcoming.
TO THE NORTH
The northern entrance to the station leads up into the sunlight and puts you out in a brickwork plaza. There's a modest building in front of you, three or four stories of stone with a welcoming facade. There's a sign above the entryway—it says City Hall. You may be tempted to explore, if you're interested in learning more about the city and how it functions, but prepare to find yourself disappointed—the folders in the records rooms are full of empty, blank sheets of paper, and the logbooks and balance sheets are similarly devoid of information.
Immediately to the southwest of City Hall, you will find a small building that houses the tourist information kiosk. It looks welcoming, with an inviting glass facade and a sign above the entryway announcing it as the "TOURIST CENTER." It's a humble building with a receptionist's desk on the back wall opposite the entrance, empty magazine shelves lining the side walls, and a few spinning brochure racks full of blank pamphlets. Anyone is welcome to peruse the tourist literature, though they won't offer much information, being primarily filled with pictures of the surrounding area—City Hall, the park, a statue garden, and the surprisingly heavily-featured cemetery. There are a few sentences sprinkled throughout about basic offerings of the city, such as apartment complexes and office buildings, as well as a few maps with the same limited scope as the larger version on the wall behind the receptionist's desk.
The main feature of the tourist center is the interactive kiosk installed dead in the center, right in the middle of a few rows of uncomfortable chairs that fill the small room. It's noticeably in the way of any would-be foot traffic through the tourist center, and something about the technology seems a little more modern than the computer behind the desk or the landline phone on the wall. The kiosk is a tall silver rectangle, about average adult height, and the upper half is a screen welcoming visitors to touch it to activate the kiosk. If you were to touch it, the screen would come to life with simple dialogue inviting visitors to ask it their questions.
However, residents should note that the kiosk is only programmed to assist with exploration within the available areas of the city. It may not be able to answer every question, and tampering with the kiosk may result in unreliable or inaccurate answers!
TO THE SOUTHWEST
The western exit of the station takes you up into a city park, lush and green with a very light fog still hanging about the trees. There are lampposts on the walkways and benches where you could rest, and plenty of flora, although you can neither see nor hear any signs of animal life. You walk the paths that meander idly through the verdant grass and you feel a sense of peace, some of your unease about this place easing into a pleasant calm. The air smells fresh, like it's recently rained, and you'll find the grass ever so slightly damp should you decide to take a seat.
As you make your way deeper into the park, the trees grow denser and the smell of soil and plant life grows stronger. This is the older part of the park, very nearly a forest, with ivy climbing the trunks of the trees and plants and shrubs growing riotously around their bases. As you turn a corner, you find yourself first in the statue garden, although the statues are harder to see now, choked as they are with ivy. There are many statues, some partially obscured, some fully—very few of them still stand free of the vines and clinging roots. (It doesn't feel quite as peaceful here.) If a statue's face looks a little bit familiar, you may not want to look at it too long.
Continue down the path and you will find yourself in a graveyard, one that seems centuries old. Most of the headstones are worn away by time and covered in moss, rendering them impossible to read. The few that are free of moss are blank, or bear only suggestions of names too faint to be understood. (Was that the name of—no, it couldn't have been. Could it?) Many of the headstones stand at an angle or are toppled over completely, having been subjected to either strong winds or the roots of the trees that grow up from some of the graves, spreading branches toward the sky.
TO THE EAST
The final exit of the station, to the east, puts you out on a quiet surface street. Are you hungry? Or are you paralyzed by choice? There are plenty of restaurants, offering options of almost any food you can imagine. You could try a convenience store—it's well stocked, and the items there seem free for the taking. How about a restaurant? There's no one to take your order, but when you look in the kitchen, there's something on the stove, and it's just what you've been craving. Imagine that.
A few blocks down, you come in through the lobby of a tall building and find yourself in a corporate office. The fluorescent lights are steady and unforgiving, and the cubicles and offices are empty. There are a few pieces of paper on desks, a few folders left in organizers, but everything is perfectly blank. Despite how empty and quiet the office is, it nonetheless gives you the feeling that just a few minutes ago, this place was bustling with workers going about their daily business.
You enter another building and find yourself in the lobby of an apartment complex—finally, a place to rest. The first door you try opens easily into a completely empty living room, freshly vacuumed but without a single piece of furniture. It's a nice apartment, quiet, but with a little too much echo for your taste, maybe. Still, and perhaps oddly, you have no trouble envisioning what life here would be like.
The second door you open leads to an apartment that feels lived-in. Why does it feel lived-in? It's fully furnished with items that seem to go together perfectly, true, but the feeling is more than that—the room feels like someone was just here, maybe standing right in the kitchen only moments before you swung the door open. The air is a perfectly comfortable temperature, and it somehow smells like home despite that you've never once set foot here before. The refrigerator is stocked, and the cabinets are full of spices and flatware and kitchen utensils.
As you look around the living room, you find that there are pictures in frames on the walls and some of the flat surfaces—a seascape, a field, a shot of a city park bench. In each of the photos there's something just slightly wrong with the angle, as though the photographer were aiming for a subject that can no longer be seen.
Characters are welcome to explore the district around the City Hall subway station to their heart's content. The City Hall building itself contains several floors of offices and file rooms, but none of them contain any particularly interesting information. Nonetheless, characters may wish to team up with other newcomers and try to find some hints about the nature of the city. They can also spend a while in the park, the statue garden, or the graveyard. In the blocks surrounding the station there are plenty of options for food and housing, as well as office buildings, storefronts, and alleyways to look around. There are no workers in any of the buildings, and there does not seem to be an honor system for payment, nor any consequences for taking food from the stores or setting up camp in an apartment or office building.
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THE POISON'S IN THE DETAILS.
CONTENT WARNINGS: Monthly prompt includes the potential for body horror, including: mold or fungus; spores; and hanahaki-like symptoms. It also includes the potential for violence, mutilation, or death. Please label potentially triggering content in subject headers and interact responsibly with threads!
With the cacophony of the fun fair now gone, packed up and sent away for another year, the southern half of the park is now empty. That doesn't mean that the park itself is without attractions, though: up in the northern corner, sprawling out across the green, is a curious garden full of winding paths and draping trees, and within it, the smaller poison garden, where a variety of different flowers blossom and bloom along the gravel path. From roses to gladiolus, tulips to belladonna, this garden has many flora that residents may recognize from their homes, and some that they most certainly will not. As residents walk along the paths, observing and smelling and—for the brave—touching these plants, they will encounter a long wooden table, stretched out in the midst of fresh cut green grass.
This table has been decorated for a party, though it seems that all the guests must be late. A strange variety of different sized chairs and cushions have been set out along the long length of the table; it seems to fit at least twenty people, maybe even more. Small dishes and porcelain tea cups lay in random design across the off-white table cloth, used flower doilies and half-folded napkins tucked here and there as though someone left in a hurry. Even stranger still, there are six large, ornate pots of tea, scattered about the table, each warm to the touch and, you guessed it: full of tea. You suddenly find yourself craving a cup, and tuck into one of the chairs to pour yourself some...
...but you didn't think that it would be that easy, did you? Once you've swallowed a mouthful, or even your whole cup, your body starts to feel strange. Depending on the color—or flavor—of the tea you're drinking, you're going to experience some side effects:
| Color |
Flavor |
Effect |
| Red |
Hibiscus: This tart and fruity tea is naturally sweet. |
You will begin vomiting blood. The amount is up to your body's reaction. The correct antidote will fix you. |
| Yellow |
Jasmine: This tea has a light, floral note, and is slightly sweet. |
You will hallucinate something terrifying near you, and may lash out and attack those around you. The correct antidote will fix you. |
| Blue |
Pea Flower: This brilliantly-colored tea has a very delicate, woody flavor. |
You will gradually begin losing one of your senses (sight, hearing, taste, smell, touch). The correct antidote will fix you. |
| Black |
English Breakfast: This is a full body tea, with rich undertones and a bold flavor. |
Something very terrible will begin happening to your body: your hair may start falling out, you may become covered in hives, or your skin may start opening into sores. The correct antidote will fix you. |
| Green |
Green: This tea has a very clean, grassy flavor, like the earth. |
You will begin to transform into a terrifying creature or animal of your choosing. The correct antidote will fix you. |
| Orange |
Ginger: This is a tea with a warming, slightly spicy taste. |
After drinking, you will suddenly fall into a death-like coma. A kiss may wake you, or the correct antidote. |
In a panic, you look for something to help you. Just beyond the table, tucked away into a wall of ivy, is an old wooden shelf, the lettering nearly worn all away on it. Little packets of seeds line the tiered shelves; there are no pictures on them, but the packets themselves seem to all be different colors—and you may notice that the colors match the colors of the various teas on the table.
Ripping open the packet that matches the color of your tea, you find it contains actual seeds—will you swallow them and risk a plant growing in your stomach, just to see if it will counteract the effects of the tea? Oh, surely that's the stuff of fairytales, isn't it?
Residents are welcome to explore the various paths around the outside of the garden, observing plants and flowers of their choosing. The tea party is open to all, and the tea will continue to be brewed somehow, no matter how many people drink it. Players can choose the extent of the negative effects on their character, or have their character remain unaffected by the tea entirely. In order to get rid of the negative effects, characters must either find the correct seed packet that matches their tea and eat the seeds, or wait twenty-four hours for the symptoms to subside. The seeds will not do anything but cure the character—though they're welcome to think something awful might happen.
The tea party cannot be destroyed, and items that are moved from the table can only be moved within the perimeter of the poison garden. Characters are unable to steal things from the tea party; they will mysteriously return back to the table if taken beyond the aforementioned border. The tea party will remain there permanently, though the negative effects of the tea will mysteriously disappear after November 1st.
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A DROP OF BLOOD OR A DROP OF EGO.
At the apex of the path that winds around the poison garden is a large greenhouse that looks like it has seen better days. The panels are filthy, covered in dust and dirt and grime, and the doors creak on their hinges when you open them. Inside, the air is hot and musty, but the smell of herbs and spices fill your senses, letting you enjoy the atmosphere. The greenhouse is clearly separated into two different paths: the one to the left has a hanging sign which reads "DEADLY BEAUTIES" and the one to the right has a hanging sign which reads "BEAUTIFUL DEADLIES".
Heading to the left, you decide to observe the various plants there. Shelf upon shelf of various potted plants watch you as you go past; some of them snap at the air, veiny teeth grasping for the delicious meat of fruit flies and ants, and some of them threaten to touch you, with vines that roll and curl outward for just a shivering touch. Overhead, tangles of vined plants and spiked ivy mix together, an oppressive shadow that makes you feel as though you're trapped in this place as you walk through. Be careful: these carnivorous plants might be beautiful, but they won't hesitate to get a little too friendly with you. The floor is caked with dirt, but some of those brown stains might not just be from mud and dust, smeared by shoe heels and work boots. These plants might want a taste of blood.
Heading to the right, you find yourself in a beautiful space, the flowers so large they seem almost overwhelming. Have the plants gotten bigger, or have you simply gotten smaller? Gorgeous purple blossoms, pink petals, bright blue flowers and speckled white flowers cower and bend to cast you under them, like a flower-patterned umbrella sheltering you from the rain. The further you walk under them, however, the more you get the feeling that they're not just there to watch over you: they're there to explore you. At first, it's just a few gossipy whispers, so quiet you might not think they're real; then it's full-blown voices, the flowers bending and twisting as though to speak to each other in harsh, judgmental tones. What are they talking about? Well, they're talking about you—your secrets, your opinions, the things you don't want anyone else to know. These flowers are spilling your tea, and anyone walking along with you is going to hear it.
The back of the greenhouse—if you make it there—has the same doors as the front. They open back out onto the winding, circular path of the poison garden, where you can head back home...or experience the whole thing over again.
The greenhouse is rather large, and characters are welcome to walk through it along any path they wish. The carnivorous plants will possibly nip and bite at your characters, or try to restrain them, but they aren't very strong and can easily be broken away from. Feel free to imagine as much of a struggle as you wish, but they will not inflict any kind of mortal wounds on characters.
The giant, oversized flowers will tell your character's secrets or their deepest darkest opinions—this is open to player choice. The flowers cannot be attacked or hurt, and the only way to get them to be quiet is for someone OTHER than the character they're talking about to scold them or tell them to be quiet. Alternatively, if you can walk the path hand in hand with another character, this will also cause them to go quiet.
Plants cannot be taken from the greenhouse or killed, and they cannot be dug up from their pots. The greenhouse itself also cannot be destroyed, and any fire lit in the greenhouse will be immediately extinguished by an overhead sprinkler system. This place is meant for enjoyment and admiration, not crime!
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WILDCARD.
The city is by no means small, and there are plenty of things for you to see. There are even some places that other residents have created! There's no rush in exploring, so feel free to take your time looking around and peering into various nooks and crannies and alleyways—and don't worry, you're not very likely to find anything peering back.
If none of the above prompts appeal, feel free to check out the Locations and Maps pages and write your own freestyle prompt using one or many of the available locations. We highly recommend checking out the Character-Run Locations as well - they might be great places for new characters to get started!
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citycenter) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
citylogs2023-10-01 08:38 pm
c.i) blanket ruina spoilers hello..............
oh, how he'd love to be wrong in this instance for once.
there's no mistaking the blue cloak, the pristine white hair that he shared with his sister, that leering voice. roland's brain is overloaded from information he'd gotten from angela last month that he hadn't considered this one oversight at all -- the fact that at some point, he would arrive. ]
Family, huh.
[ he clenches his gloved fists, his voice eerily calm. ]
Doubt you even grasp the mere concept of it.
[ hey, brother in law. ]
Lays a blanket gently down.... Hello
More than you do, Roland. But that's a rather cruel thing to say to the person you took family away from in the first place, isn't it?
[ A tut. Same old, same old on both their sides -- they may be lacking weapons here, but Argalia isn't interested in an outright fight at the moment anyway. He can't hear it.
... The gloves, though, draw his eye, and Argalia decides his new goal is taking what rightfully isn't Roland's. One could say they're just an ordinary pair, that perhaps Roland picked them up from a store, but there isn't a chance in all the world that man would cover his blood-stained hands in anything but her. ]
Only to lose her in the end for the both of us.
[ Heya, brother in law. ]
weeps... i took roland from before the hana fight but angela updated him on things after that help
but argalia's different, and the fact that he keeps rubbing it in on roland's wounds will never not piss him off. in fact, he's feeling it again -- the rage that he thought he had suppressed after he talked with angela a while back. this time it's different.
that's that, and this is this. ]
Say one more word, and I'm gonna feed your fucking head to that plant you already deemed as "family".
[ argalia may be without his scythe, but roland's resourceful enough even without angelica's gloves. in his periphery he can spot a pitchfork, a shovel, a pickaxe at the corner among others -- so many weapons to be found in nature. and despite having killed here before, he won't hesitate at doing it again, especially if it's argalia. he's simply too dangerous to be let loose right now... ]
What a good girl she is...
[ Amused and pitying. Argalia keeps an eye on him even as he continues, ready to move if needed. A little dance never hurt anyone. ]
To think she'd ever pair with a senseless brute like you... I still don't understand. But truthfully, I'm not interested in a fight with you, Roland.
[ Despite the way he's talking, anyway. There's no real gain in it right now and he isn't a trigger-happy fool like the pierrot before him. Argalia pauses a beat, smile hitching higher. ]
Though I can't lie either, I am interested in removing your hands from your body right now. Why don't you us both a favor and chop to it?
for better or for worse u_u
Forget it. You know it's going to take more than that before you can get your hands on these, Argalia.
[ he'll have to pry them off of roland's dead body, first. good luck with that, since roland has no plans of dying soon. not now, at least. ]
Can't fight 'cause you don't have a weapon? Or even the rest of your ensemble. Figures that you'd be useless without them.
[ it doesn't matter how many lackeys argalia's gonna bring with him. roland can easily mow them down. though with angelica's gloves being dormant, he isn't sure if he can bring his A-game here either. ]
no subject
[ They belong to Argalia more than Roland. He shifts towards a gardening rake, irritation seething just beneath the surface of his perpetual smile. The defeat from before does leave a bitter tang on his tongue, something not even Greta could fix, and he thinks he'd like a sweeter victory to savor.
There are other ways to manage that than by brute force alone, with Roland. ]
You don't have that Library to help you out now, either. Should we pick up where we left off and I'll peel the skin off your hands while I'm at it? Once those gloves are in my possession, of course, I'll return them to Angelica when I can. I'm certain she'll be delighted to have them again.
no subject
As if the Hana's gonna let you keep your Color with all the bullshit you pulled. [ the colors are only mere titles for being the most accomplished fixers around, and as far as roland's conversations with gebura and vergilius are concerned, they're nothing but a hassle to those who wished to be left alone. ] And these titles don't really mean anything in the grand scheme of things. You really think anyone in that Wing-forsaken City would give a shit on who the Black Silence is at this point?
[ it doesn't matter. nobody cares who roland is until he puts on the mask. he likes to think that he has changed for the better, but alas. he is too citypilled. every single one of them is citypilled. it's all that city's fault-- ]
'Sides, unlike you, I'm not actually the only one from the Library. [ there's also angela, but he can't tell argalia that. not now. ] And unlike you, I prefer working alone. No matter how many times this shithole keeps bringing her up, there's no other way to get her back. And I am going to make sure that you won't be reuniting with her once I'm done eviscerating every single inch of your body till there's nothing left.
[ he'll find ways. he already did it to angela when she first manifested here, after all. what's another body in his ever-growing body count? ]
no subject
Most of them aren't a match for him anyway. It's only new information, not a threat. Roland's a walking contradiction, citing his fellow victims to one woman's hostage situation and then saying he prefers to work alone; they don't matter in the end in that case, do they? ]
Oh, but I already have -- don't you recall?
[ ... If they're on two different pages, then he can see the same sight he had before -- the shock and rage, the vehement denial of what was right before Roland -- and Argalia's smile returns to something amicable as his hand closes over the handle of the rake. No, less amicable and more pitying, playing at sorrow when there's none to be had. ]
Angelica's going to be heartbroken you don't remember her, Roland, but that's alright. You weren't too pleased with the new form Jae-heon gave her anyway, and if you can't love someone just because they look so different than what you recall then did you truly love them at all?
[ No, of course not. It's only one more bit of proof that Angelica should have never left his side, never should have gone after this man, that Argalia should have never let her fall for Roland; he should have ended his life before things went too far, but he hadn't. Call him a charitable brother. ]
I'll be sure to comfort her when she cries, [ just as she did him so long ago, ] so don't feel too bad about it.
no subject
but angela filled him in on the details after that. or at least, on her point of view: where his plans on killing her were revealed, and angela had ended him herself. that means... that means there's a gap. that means the reverberation ensemble did barge into the library before angela killed him, and somehow they'd gotten their hands on angelica's corpse and mutilated what's left of her--
and just like that, coupled with everything he'd gone through this past few months in this hellhole, something within roland finally snaps. ]
ARGALIA!!
[ he grabs the pitchfork within reach and charges towards the other man, aiming to strike him -- not realizing that he'd also reacted like this the first time back at the Library, shot by perfect shot. ]
What did you do?! [ his voice trembles with abject rage. ] How could you do that to her -- your flesh and blood...?!
no subject
The flesh isn't so important as the soul, Roland! Once someone dies, their bodies don't matter anymore -- but you'd been yearning for her ever since then, and so we thought we'd bring by a welcoming gift. You don't remember? I'm glad -- seeing your reaction is just as fun as the first time!
[ It's only too bad Angelica isn't here with them, not as that polished, perfected form Jae-heon gave her and not as the breeze that rushes past him as he presses the offense with an honest delight. Not as the sun that aches to reach through the dense tangles of snapping plants above them, agitated by the fight, not as the whispers from flowers farther off.
She isn't here, not at all. And certainly, without a doubt, that's Roland's fault as well. ]
Hahaha! What an embarrassing pity party you've been throwing for yourself all these years, trapped by that outdated way of thinking!
no subject
he doesn't speak at first. he lets his improvised weapon talk for him instead, angrily throwing hit after hit at argalia's repeated parries. the carnivorous plants around them continue to jeer and snap away at this farce like the audience that they are, the flowers from another hall mumbling gossip among themselves that yes, perhaps all of this is truly roland's fault. all this raucous noise around them might even be too loud for roland's own dark voice to be heard. ]
Speak for yourself... You've yearned for her just as much as I have. You're only using her death as a bullshit excuse to wreck havoc across the City!
[ he slams his pitchfork against argalia's rake, intending to push him over. ]
You're no different from me. You just wanted to destroy me, the City, and the real perpetrator for taking Angelica's life. But too bad it ain't gonna be easy while we're here.
no subject
[ As he always does, so blinded by his own projections. The flowers taunt as much the louder they grow across the way, Argalia's thoughts and Roland's own matching, mingling, trading off each others' name as it bleeds into sentiment after sentiment.
The pitchfork presses hard against his rake and he feigns the weakness from a successful strike; forte, forte, forte as his feet step over one another to dance into a crescendo -- the strike, this time above at the sprinkler system, setting it off without fire. ]
I'm thankful for towards her, that Head Librarian you've lead on so well. Without her, Angelica and I would have remained apart; you're the one who's still clinging helplessly onto the memory of a finite existence.
[ It's truly pitiable, but all the better that Roland doesn't understand; the farther he stays from Angelica the better, though she can't be so easily taken from him now... he doesn't want to share her, truly, with the man who failed at the only task Argalia had reluctantly allowed him to have on behalf of his dear sister. ]
no subject
...Guess it's no use trying to convince a madman like you.
[ argalia has always been a little unhinged, even before the incident happened. roland wouldn't know. angelica's darling brother has always expressed his distaste of their relationship from the very beginning. there's absolutely no way they could get along, then and now. ]
I'll tell you one thing, though. [ he readjusts his hold on his weapon. ] I didn't come to the Library on my own accord. Iori had sent me there on the first place. The very same Purple Tear who mentored you.
[ the very same color fixer who ruined vergilius's life as well. ]
I can't deny that she helped me point my sword at the right direction. But that begs the question -- why?
no subject
Argalia lets his improvised weapon drop gracefully behind him, ready to parry if another need arises, and the water that falls on them, that drowns out the silence as well as his earpiece, feels almost cleansing. He can imagine each drop as Angelica's hands running through his hair, comforting and safe, but knows she isn't there. ]
My dearest mentor has always been an enigma. For as long as I've known her, she's never said anything that didn't have two meanings to it -- though I hadn't realized that then. [ A dorky, naive boy she'd called him. ] Why? Who can say? She pointed me in the same direction, after all.
[ She'd claimed that she had wanted to go someplace that apparently couldn't be reached by her own means. But what did the Library and its light have to do with it? They aren't thoughts he wants to ponder while Roland is right in front of him, but the voice in his heart is silent too. There's no score to conduct from now. ]
If we're just being used by her, well, that's simply how the City is. Perhaps she's looking for a world where her son hadn't died all those years ago. My dear mentor wasn't too keen to join us, for all she helped out.
no subject
"and i hate it," the flowers who took his side whisper among themselves. "i hate this city for holding me back from my one outlet." ]
Hah. [ he can't help but let out a bitter laugh. ] Look at us. Even the Purple Tear wanted to bring someone back from the dead. I wasn't kidding when I said all Colors have a screw loose or two.
[ assuming that's truly her end mission. there's so many holes in her goal, but that's what everyone knows of her so far. even the book they'd gotten out of her only told them what she wanted to tell them. ]
But that's never gonna be possible, no matter how you go at it. [ the artificial rain almost feels like the tears that constantly flowed from his face ever since. ] If that City found a way to bring Angelica back as her flawless self, we wouldn't be in this fucking mess. It's all that City's fault...
no subject
It's in the other.
"Do you think you're the only one suffering?" The plants chide, the City as a whole suffers -- what makes Roland so special. Argalia can feel what they might follow up with before they even dare to take a breath and speaks before they can, covering the thoughts with his differing spoken ones. ]
Then what's so wrong with what my Reverberation Ensemble desires, Roland? If the City is at fault, then wouldn't it be best to overturn it all? To set everyone free, to start anew -- to feel right in our skins, to do what we'd like, to live unafraid and unbound by the very things the City runs on?
[ It sounds like he's trying to persuade Roland, but it truly doesn't matter if the other agrees or stands in his way still. He tolerated him at the start, when Angelica would speak every now and then to test the waters about a Grade 1 Fixer she'd met. Angelica had been free to do what she'd like as a Color, just as he was, and while he had placed the meaning of his life in hers she hadn't done the same. All Argalia had needed to be happy was the well-being of his sister, but Angelica had always wanted more. Unhappily, he allowed Angelica to fall for the stupid man before him.
And how had that turned out? "I should have ended your life before you ended hers," a walking contradiction in claiming he'd let go of every feeling he had, could see the world beautifully once more. Even monochrome can be beautiful. ]
It won't bring her back in your mind. Can't say I see you letting that particular bit go, stubborn mule. [ Honestly, if he had one less thing in his way to getting that Light... ] But you'd finally understand what I did, sitting in front of that piano.