citylogs | november catch-all [open]

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november catch-all [open]

WHO: (

reflexio) & you!!
WHAT: November catch-all and obligatory "where tf am I" log
WHERE: Everywhere (Welcome Diner, ~~your~~ an apartment, city park, etc.)
WHEN: Early November
WARNINGS: adjusted as needed

a. diner.

[ Wandering about proves to be fruitless. Instead, Yi Sang retraces his steps to the station.

Only then does he notice the flyers with their bold headlines. "LOST? NEW?" Yes, those two adjectives certainly describe him. He glances at the message posted on the flyer, memorizes the directions printed on it, and follows them to --

He inspects the building before him. Definitely a diner, though he's not sure what he'd expected given the flyer's notation of "The Welcome Diner."

It's difficult to tell whether anyone's inside, but the restaurant gives off a warm vibe. It's just enough of a nudge to encourage him into pushing the door open. After all, a lead is a lead.

...something warm to eat would be nice too. ]

Excuse me. Is this The Welcome Diner?

[ The flyers said it would be The Welcome Diner. The sign outside also reads "THE WELCOME DINER." Ergo, this must be The Welcome Diner, but one can never be too cautious given the bizarre city. ]

b. ~~your~~ an apartment.

[ The first door he'd opened revealed an empty living room. Its white walls and freshly-vacuumed floor are welcoming, but there's something terribly unsettling about the empty room too.

Yi Sang shuts the door to avoid thinking about it too hard.

He leaves the building and tries the one next to it. Just like the previous apartment complex, there's no trace of a soul in the lobby. He wanders to one of its doors, slowly turning the door knob and it's... unlocked?

Perhaps there has been no need to install locks on these apartment doors.

He steps into the living room and, immediately, it's apparent someone lives here, or at the very least, someone had lived here. Should he have knocked? Well, too late for that. He spies a picture frame on the coffee table, lifting it into his hands. There's... nothing in it. Odd.

Something shifts behind him. The sudden noise catches Yi Sang off guard, picture frame slipping through his fingers and shattering on the hardwood floor. ]

...my apologies. The door was unlocked.

[ Which isn't really a proper excuse, but it's the truth. ]

... Do you live here?

c. city park.

[ The expanse of lush green feels a bit out of place compared to all the buildings Yi Sang passed on his way here. And despite all the life contained within the flora, the lack of birds chirping is troubling.

Nevertheless, he's developed an affinity for the park over the past few days. It's peaceful for the most part, allowing him to recount what he's discovered so far: City Hall's record rooms? Empty. Tourist Center? Nothing of note. Greenhouse at the poison garden? Bad. Stuffed full of carnivorous plants.

A bound notebook lies open in his lap, a pen resting in its spine to mark his spot. Yi Sang uses one of his hands to keep the notebook flat. The other one, bandaged a bit haphazardly, rests in his lap.

Perhaps if one were to yell, he would lift his head to see who is calling for him. Otherwise, he appears deep in thought, a pensive frown on his face. ]

d. wildcard.

[ if none of these work, feel free to hmu for something more tailored! A PM is good or you can lmk here o7 ]

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[ is that what cats are like? hong lu thinks about what cats mean to him. they are creatures outside the window. they seem to like to do whatever they like to do. they take themselves out for walks, and they come back by dusk to huddle by the fireplaces. hong lu has never gotten close to a cat before; they let choose whoever they let close, or they simply leave. they disappear into the shadows, and they never look back.

cats are free, based on their nature. their very natures seem free. hong lu has always been envious, but has there ever been an animal less free than he is?

he nods, earnestly. ]

It has. [ hong lu thinks, so that's how yi sang sees a cat. he likes that better than the way he has seen cats. hong lu will remember. gentle, and firm with their likes and dislikes. perhaps hong lu will also learn to like cats. ] Then, is it my turn? I should come up with something fun.

[ hmmm... something about himself. hong lu reaches inside of him. there's nothing there, as usual. it's disappointing, but that's how it has always been. ]

I was good at opera. I like going on a long journey. And I don't mind getting wet in the rain.

[ hong lu beams. ] Which one is the lie?

[ it is, in fact, the first one. all of his vaunted tutors are now, simultaneously, rolling in their metaphorical graves. some of them aren't even dead. ]

[ Based on their nature, cats are free. Perhaps that's why Yi Sang's always been fond of birds too.

He listens carefully to each of Hong Lu's statements. He studies Hong Lu's expression. It does not shift at all as he speaks. Nor does he have Hong Lu's wrist clutched in his hand in order to measure his heart rate.

But even if he could feel Hong Lu's pulse, perhaps Yi Sang would find that Hong Lu's heart rate without a single flutter.

This is rather challenging. ]

Given my observations of you on Mephistopheles, the second statement must be a truth. You seem to enjoy our journey to receive the Golden Boughs.

[ Then, the lie -- is it the opera? Is it the getting wet in the rain? Yi Sang's head tilts a bit to the side as he deliberates. ]

In truth, getting wet in the rain seems as though it would be inconsequential to you. I do not believe a bit of rain would trouble you.

[ Hong Lu seems the sort who would be fascinated by the feel of rain. Even now, Yi Sang doesn't know much about Hong Lu, but he's aware that Hong Lu hadn't been permitted to roam about outdoors as he pleased. It seems unlikely he would have been allowed to stand in the rain. ]

And thus, based on the process of elimination, your first statement would be the lie. Is that correct?

[ Where body language fails, maybe logical reasoning won't let him down. ]

[ hong lu beams. he has always liked hearing yi sang's thought process. there is so little in the world that he truly knows, and he hardly knows how anyone knows about anything. the other sinners are not as patient with their explanations, and vergilius is likely to kill him if he no longer wants to speak. he doesn't mind it, in truth. death at vergilius' hands must be interesting as well. but hong lu hardly learns when he is dead. yi sang lays out his thought process, and hong lu enjoys it, listening to another person's thoughts as they come.

thought after thought. yi sang is not wrong. of course he wouldn't be. yi sang is one fo the smartest people he knows. hong lu thinks - yi sang might be smarter than the elders at the estate, even though they know so much more than hong lu does. but he wouldn't like for them to meet yi sang. they would take him the way they take butterflies, to pin them to the board and keep them there. nothing that enters that estate comes back out alive. hong lu would know.

and so hong lu says: ]

Correct~ Yi Sang, you know me really well. I only know a little Bian Lian, and a little bit of opera. My tutors never liked my progress. [ hong lu smiles. ] But I like the rain, and I like the journey. Don't you like being on the bus with everyone else? You never know what's going to happen every day.

Hey, Yi Sang, have you ever danced in the rain before?

[ A little Bian Lian and a little bit of opera is far more than Yi Sang knows. It may be a paltry amount of musical expertise, but it's enough to impress Yi Sang.

Hong Lu smiles. Yi Sang smiles a bit too. ]

The faint sound of rain against a windowpane: it is a sound I am rather fond of.

[ The rhythmic pitter patter was always a welcome noise while he tinkered in that little sepia workshop. It was for that reason he'd claimed the work bench situated at one of the building's windows.

It had been raining, too, the day those bus headlights illuminated the darkness.

He holds a different sort of fondness for the journey on Mephistopheles. Some might not consider it great by any means, given the way the journey is wrought with danger. But those headlights in the rain had been so welcoming. He could never dislike that bus and everything associated with it. ]

I have not. I have not danced in the rain before.

[ A beat. ]

In truth, I have not danced before.

[ it's a sound that yi sang is fond of, yi sang says. hong lu thinks - it must be that it had been the only sound that yi sang could hear, all those years outside of his window, before capitalism and then depression swept away the rest of his world. hong lu could relate. on most days, it was the murmur of the window and the shifting of gossip. but on good days, it was just hong lu and the rain, and the knowledge that the rain that falls upon his side of the world is the same rain that everyone else must be experiencing. if hong lu couldn't go to the world, the world could at least come to him one little droplet at a time.

it had been raining, too, the day those bus headlights illuminated the darkness.

yi sang has not danced in the rain. hong lu smiles. ]

I've never danced in the rain before, but I have danced. Does that make me your upperclassman when it comes to dancing? But I've never danced with someone else before.

[ hong lu looks. ] We should dance. In the rain, I think, would be fun. It'll be like wearing a second skin. As it soaks into our clothes, our clothes will feel different. It will feel changed. I think the world might look a little different by then, wouldn't it?

[ Certainly, the fact that Hong Lu possesses more experience in the realm of dance would make him Yi Sang's upperclassman in that activity. ]

Dancing alone as opposed to dancing with another -- surely, there must be some overlap between the two? Experience with one may serve to facilitate in learning how to perform the other.

[ Hong Lu may be looking at him, but Yi Sang's gaze is not on his current company. Instead, his attention is directed outside of the tower's single window. He gazes skyward and studies the clear skies, estimating what the weather might be like later. ]

It does not seem as though it will rain soon. If we wish to dance in the rain, we may need to wait awhile. ...or, perhaps, we may find it is raining after we depart from this tower.

[ yi sang looks out the window. hong lu looks as well. the sky is an overcast gray. it is neither rain nor shine, just the kind of weather that begets nothing. it's humid, hong lu thinks. his hair normally would frizz up a little in weather like this, though he supposes his hair is very long and very magical right now, and so it doesn't follow the usual rules.

hong lu hopes it will rain soon. that might be fun. ]

Or perhaps we can chase the rain. After all, there has to be raining somewhere in this world, right? [ says hong lu, very reasonably. ] Do you want to leave this tower with me? See what we can find. I don't mind sitting here longer with you, though, so it's up to you. Ever since you came up the tower, I haven't felt bored at all.

[ hong lu says this, and knows it to be the truth. how odd, yi sang is, a man who is able to take his boredom away so easily. ]

[ The world is much, much larger than the little frame offered by the tower's window. It must certainly be raining somewhere in that vast place.

Yi Sang tears his attention away from the view to study the interior of Hong Lu's room. There doesn't appear to be any doors, nor does it look like there are any stairs leading down into the heart of the tower. It begs the question -- how did Hong Lu even get here? Perhaps it was simply a fact of this particular realm, that the grass is green, that the sky is an overcast gray, that Hong Lu must sit alone at the top of this tower until the end of time.

Eventually, he rises from the floor and wanders over to the window, peering out over its ledge. ]

How will we leave this tower together? I believe it may be possible for me to climb back down with the assistance of your hair, but that does not allow you to exit as well.

[ ah, that's the dilemma. yi sang had made his way up the tower, and it had rescued hong lu from his boredom. but that doesn't solve the issue of them being rescued out of the tower, right? hong lu considers this. he rises as well, and follows yi sang to the ledge.

beyond: the gray sky, the endless rolling hills. a story yet to be told, hong lu thinks, or maybe there's no story out there at all.

but it's not so high. hong lu's estate had a tower that was higher, and hong lu climbed that all the time. but there really is quite a lot of hair. would he have to pull it all behind him like a rope? that doesn't sound fun. ]

Hmmm... well, I could let you down. That's the easy part. [ but that matter can be thought about after yi sang is out. hong lu beams. ] Would you catch me, if I jumped out the window?

[ wouldn't it be funny? he'd be like a real princess, being saved and all. ]

I would.

[ Yi Sang says it so confidently that it surprises even him. Only after the words have made it past his lips does he falter. Perhaps the script had lent him this self-assuredness. ]

Ah, rather -- I would endeavor to catch you.

[ After all, he can't guarantee that he'll be able to stand at the proper spot to break Hong Lu's fall. Nor can he tell whether catching Hong Lu in his arms might be a one-way ticket to broken forearms. But he's already mapping out the potential velocity of Hong Lu's fall. Based on the height of the tower and Hong Lu's approximate weight, Princess Hong Lu would tumble quite quickly through the air. But... it would be fine. Maybe.

Yi Sang glances back at Hong Lu. ]

Would you trust me catch you, Hong Lu?

[ 'i would' says yi sang, before all thought and justification, before the words have finished cooling on hong lu's lips.

hong lu looks. for the first time today, he is surprised. then, he smiles, because yi sang would catch him, or at least would promise to, and that's more than what anyone else has ever done for hong lu. ]

Of course. [ hong lu says, and pretends that they're still playing two truths and a lie. ] Though it'll be tough... I'll have all that hair behind me. Are you sure I won't just flatten you, Yi Sang?

[ certainly, it will be an endeavor. ]

[ Well. That is certainly a possibility. The weight of that hair runs a very serious risk of flattening him. In fact, it's going to mostly be the hair's weight that Yi Sang will need to accommodate.

If they don't try, they'll never know. But if they do try and Yi Sang fails, he will have two broken arms or a very messy Hong Lu to clean up. It's fine. Just don't fail, right? ]

This may very well result in my death, yes. And indeed, it may very well result in your death as well. But if you trust me to catch you, then that is sufficient for me.

[ And in a tacit declaration of his resolve, Yi Sang's already making his way over to the window. He glances over his shoulder at Hong Lu with an expectant expression. ]

[ oh, hong lu thinks.

it's true that death doesn't mean much to them. or it ought not. both hong lu and yi sang have come back so many times from the dead that it is merely another part of their job. hong lu thinks it's rather fun, to be honest. there's the pain, and the novelty of it, of seeing what new creative ways someone can crack him open and set him free. but he and yi sang are not fighting, not each other, not a peril beyond measure. it is merely a tower and a fall, and an entire waterfall's worth of hair.

but yi sang would catch him knowing that he'd die.

it's yi sang who is in motion first, for once. he is at the window, and looks back to hong lu. hong lu feels warm. his cheeks are warm, he thinks. ]

Okay. [ hong lu says, and walks to the ledge. he looks to yi sang for a moment first, as if committing the sight of him to memory. it's yi sang, framed by the window. the world outside looks boring, and bleak. but yi sang's image at the window is worth looking at; it gives value to that world. ]

Then, let me lower you down, first.

[ hong lu pulls at his hair. it's heavy, but nothing is too heavy for hong lu to move. he finds the end of it, and holds it out to yi sang. ] Don't lose your grip. If you die, I'd rather it be from catching me, than from dropping down the tower.

[ It will take both of their efforts to succeed in this mission. While Yi Sang had asked whether Hong Lu believed he would catch him, it also requires Yi Sang to trust that Hong Lu will not suddenly let go of his hair and allow him to go careening towards the ground.

Yi Sang nods and takes the end of Hong Lu's hair in his hands. He holds it carefully because, even if he's about to use it like a common twist of rope, it's still a part of Hong Lu. As a result, it should be handled with care.

He grasps the thick strands in his hand and winds it around that hand before grabbing onto the rest with his other hand. Briefly, he wonders if this experience is painful to Hong Lu, and if that's the case, he will have to work expeditiously. ]

Then let us begin.

[ Yi Sang takes a seat on the windowsill before shifting both his legs out the window. He maintains his grip on Hong Lu's hair as he places both soles of his shoes against the side of the tower, allowing him to stand perpendicular to it.

He gazes up at Hong Lu and offers him another nod, prepared to be lowered to the ground. ]

[ yi sang holds his hair with care. he shifts both legs out of the window. hong lu waits until he is looking back. for a moment, hong lu realises it, the depth of this trust. or is it trust? is it that yi sang doesn't have a choice? but even in a scenario where someone doesn't have a choice to trust, they still must make that choice to trust - and perhaps that is where there is no difference between the real and the unreal. to live with the real, you must make the unreal real.

but yi sang is looking at him. hong lu smiles. he begins to let down his hair.

it's easier work than it looks, really. yi sang isn't heavy, and hong lu's hair is manageable. hong lu lets down length of it by length until he gauges that yi sang has touched the ground. ]

Are you ready to catch me now? [ hong lu calls down. ] If you're tired, I can give you a moment to rest and catch your breath!

[ Slowly but surely, Hong Lu lowers his hair. He maintains a steady pace, allowing Yi Sang to walk carefully down the side of the tower, until his feet have touched the grass. Only when both of his feet are planted firmly on the floor does Yi Sang let go of Hong Lu's hair, letting out a sigh of relief. How precarious, to be suspended in midair by nothing more than a person's hair, relying on his own grip strength to ensure he didn't go careening down to his death.

Yi Sang takes Hong Lu's offer, taking that moment to do precisely that. He hadn't noticed his heart racing from the earlier ordeal. Eventually, it evens out, and Yi Sang gazes up towards the top of the tower. Hong Lu's window is so high up. Yi Sang can barely see him, but he knows he must be there because he can hear Hong Lu's voice.

He holds his arms out and nods, even though Hong Lu likely cannot see that gesture. ]

I am ready. You may jump whenever you are prepared.

[ And he will do his absolute best to catch him. ]

[ yi sang leaves the coil of hong lu's hair. hong lu watches him disembark. it's a bit sad, hong lu thinks, to see yi sang stand there beneath the tower. what if yi sang walks away, and never looks back? or what if hong lu never leaps? the two of them would forever be separated by this unmeasured distance, though hong lu isn't certain why that would be sad, or why he would feel that way. the world has always been at a distance, for hong lu. only the day that hong lu stepped on that bus did that world come just a fraction closer.

yi sang holds out his arms. hong lu looks at him do so. he is like a bird, hong lu suddenly thinks, with his wings outstretched. hong lu wants to say so. but yi sang is too far away.

if the world won't come to hong lu, hong lu thinks, then hong lu will go to the world. ]

Alright! [ hong lu calls down, and grins. if he dies, then he will die while flying to yi sang's wings. ] Make sure you catch me, okay?

[ hong lu steps onto the ledge. with a laugh, he jumps.

at first, the coil of hair is like a leash. the weight of it drags behind hong lu much in the way of something meant to chain. perhaps, hong lu suddenly thinks for just a heartbeat of a moment, the hair will drag him back, and he will be sucked back into that boring little room with nothing but the open window to keep him company. but hong lu looked down at yi sang's spread wings, and suddenly, the act of falling isn't a passive act so much as it becomes an act of reaching.

as if a spell were broken in motion, hong lu's hair dissolves behind him. dark, fragments of flitting, fractal stars spin out into the air in glimmering shards as he flies, an entire galaxy peeling away to leave behind just hong lu's silhouette in his red qipao and the flutter of long, silken sleeves. hong lu's reach had been true. it's simply hong lu and his hong lu-length hair that careens into yi sang's waiting arms. ]

[ It's one thing for Yi Sang to say he will catch Hong Lu and another thing for him to actually do that. But it's too late to turn back, given that Hong Lu's already leaping out the tower's open window.

Yi Sang's too far down to see what exactly has occurred, but he sees the dark mane of Hong Lu's hair, the way it streams behind him like a banner before suddenly dissipating into the air. And then comes Hong Lu's silhouette slowly taking shape as he falls closer, closer, the red and black dot manifesting into an entire person --

Yi Sang doesn't remember catching Hong Lu. He does, however, remember the force of Hong Lu slamming into him. He must have caught Hong Lu, though "caught" is a generous description, given that Yi Sang's toppled over with Hong Lu on top of him. But his arms are wrapped around Hong Lu, so perhaps he's succeeded in his task.

He coughs, blinking as he recovers from the ordeal. With arms still wrapped around Hong Lu, he says: ]

I believe this qualifies as some manner of success.

[ yi sang catches hong lu.

what happens after is of no consequence. the world could end and the seas rend, or, more realistically, hong lu thinks, yi sang would die crumpled under hong lu's weight and hong lu's brain will be spilt across the grass, and they'll likely need to redo this story all over again. but hong lu doesn't think any of those things are terrible if they came to pass, because if he had to do it over again, he would choose to do the exact same thing. yi sang's arms are warm around him. hong lu's hairtie had dissipated on his way down; his black hair spills down much in the way of an endless waterfall, replete with the student stars of a faraway night sky.

hong lu is smiling. the flush is high on his cheeks. he says, ]

You caught me, Yi Sang. That is success, right?

[ around them, the world has begun to dissolve. the story is over. the book will shut soon. but hong lu only has attention for the man beneath him. ]

Thank you, for catching me.

[ Well, neither of them are dead, Yi Sang thinks, and his arms are wrapped around Hong Lu too. It's about as close to success that he'll get. Given the fact that Hong Lu's tower is beginning to crumble behind them, stone walls trembling, the book must deem this a success as well.

And though he's already caught Hong Lu, Yi Sang's arms remain wrapped around Hong Lu. Hong Lu may be free of his tower, but perhaps he'd simply leapt from one form of confinement to another. ]

Of course.

[ Yi Sang says this readily, as though it were a simple statement of fact. ]

You leapt with faith in me. It is only right that I meet that faith to the best of my abilities.

[ This tower is not made of stone, and instead, remains ever earnest.

More of the world around them disintegrates into thin air, as it is a world that was not meant to be, not meant to stay. And though more of the world begins to disappear, Yi Sang stays on the floor with Hong Lu in his arms. It isn't quite clear where the book will place them, but he finds he is unafraid of that unknown.

After all, wherever one leaps next, the other will surely be there to catch him. ]

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november catch-all [open]

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