RITUAL 32 - never have i ever

[manwhofelltoearth]

WHO: you
WHERE: around the pasture
WHEN: morning 86

[so how are we doing, everybody? feeling a little more together? feeling a little furry, floaty, or both? well–don’t mind this newer Weed who’s just climbed up on a big rock, clapping his mildly bloody hands together to get your attention.

is that a new demon hovering around him? well–this might as well happen.]

‘Scuse me! I’m Father Argent, if we haven’t previously met. I know this is a little presumptuous and all, but it seems like most people could use a pick-me-up right now? So my friend over here and I have, well, arranged something. I hope you’ll indulge us today!

[and a little ripple of movement goes through the surrounding area, transforming it – the colours of this part of the pasture go pastel, and everything gets bubbly. rocks are now round and bouncy, the grass loses its edges and looks more like a carpet of fat succulents, fences look and feel kinda like pool noodles. you can bounce around without damaging anything, if you build up enough momentum, but even without doing that it’s just…nice to hang out on, soft and springy. there’s also some random clear spheres hanging here and there in the air, filled with small round crunchy snacks and drinks like popcorn, or pork rind and grain puffs, or gummies, or cold water, or weak beer. not enough to fill up on or really get drunk, but something to munch and keep you refreshed.

y’all are stuck here for a bit! and even if you’re not in immediate range or holed up indoors, you might feel the pull to come see what’s up – or simply be teleported into the ritual zone, in a bright popping flurry of bubbles.]

rules | turn-in | winners and prizes

Comments

[throughbamboo]

Nah, not really. Is what it is an' all.

My normal life's pretty crazy, so's ya get used to things pretty quick after a while.

[failsaver]

You've been hunted, too.

[throughbamboo]

[he dips his head a bit]

Mmm, 's one way of puttin' it.

[failsaver]

What's the other way? Ways.

[throughbamboo]

've had more folks after me than I can count. Some tryin' to catch me 'cuz I broke outta prison a couple'a times, others to keep me in my place. Some tryin' ta kill me too.

[a shrug]

All kinda ways to put it.

[failsaver]

Heh. We're not so different, old man.

[ a beat. ]

My bones are never gonna creak, though.

[throughbamboo]

Mine ain't gonna creak either, so's we got that in common too.

[failsaver]

Yeah, but I'm gonna stay young forever.

[throughbamboo]

Young can be a state of mind too, kid.

Ya ain't told me nothin' bout you, though. The bein' hunted stuff don't count.

[failsaver]

[ hesitates. looks at him. sizes him up—but not as a threat. it's something else.

finally: ]

Do you know the tale of the blind moon?

[throughbamboo]

[he shakes his head]

What is it?

[failsaver]

[ smiles wistfully, leaning back against the fence. his voice takes on a dreamy quality. ]

A long time ago, before the Haze—before the Great Split, before Feis'zache, all of that—lived two princesses. Astrid and Iri. The most beautiful sisters the land had ever known. The kindest.

They wanted for nothing, and knew it. So they gave what they could, when they could, to the people that really needed it. If a need was genuine, their garden would grow it, no matter what it was. Food. Clothing. Materials for shelter.

[throughbamboo]

[he nods a little, humming softly]

Sound like what a couple'a princesses should be.

[failsaver]

Mmhm.

One day, a waif came to the garden. A pitiful soul. Broken. Naked. Not a pebble to her name.

The princesses could have given her the materials she needed to survive. Instead... instead, they took her in, as if she were their own sister. She flourished. Blossomed into a beauty of her own.

Then one day, she asked them a question.

[throughbamboo]

'S kind of 'em. What'd she ask 'em?

[failsaver]

"Astrid. Iri. Thank you for all you've done. For all you've given.

For that—I'm undeniably yours.

Although, forgive me. I've always wondered.

My dearest sisters... did this act of service finally fill your empty hearts?"

[throughbamboo]

. . . how'd they answer?

[failsaver]

They couldn't. No matter how much they tried, they found that they couldn't lie.

"Who are you?" they finally asked.

The youngest princess smiled.

"You may call me Naekini. Now, sisters—please consider your own truth. Can you look me in the eye, and tell me that you are worthy of this garden? When you have your answer, I shall return."

Then she was gone, without a trace.

The sisters did their best to continue life as usual. Their old, idyllic life. . . but the garden heard their doubts. The garden knew their hearts. Fruits withered. Crops failed to surface. The eternal sun that had shone on the garden for so long dwindled, little by little.

The commonfolk accused them of murdering the youngest princess—for cursing their beloved garden. And so... the Decay spread. And spread. And spread.

[throughbamboo]

[well, this isn't where he thought it was going.

But he nods for him to continue]

[failsaver]

... Nue. If you had to pick between protecting Hannya, or protecting a world he loved—a world where everyone despised both of you—what would you choose?

[throughbamboo]

[boy, that's a question.

But he doesn't need to think about it]

Hannya doesn't need me to protect him.

If he wanted me ta protect the world, I'd do it.

[failsaver]

So it's like that, huh?

[ presented neutrally, but there's no surprise there. ]

The sisters... they knew service. Obligation. Gratitude. They knew hope, despair... desire.

But they didn't know trust.

They weren't a team. They were sisters by blood and burden, nothing more.

The next time they met Naekini... well, what do you think happened?

[throughbamboo]

The way you're sayin' that . . . they turn on each other somehow?

[failsaver]

[ a soft, plaintive giggle. ]

Depends what you call turning on each other.

I'd call it... mm, acting on what they thought they knew better. And both of them did. Think they knew better, that is. For better or worse, they did understand the concept of love.

They both deemed themselves unworthy. The Decay had already spread so far by that point. If they'd been worthy, then how could things have come to this? A real truth wouldn't have crumbled so easily. Their idyllic life had been a lie. A farce.

Naekini—pitying them—made them an offer. The same choice I relayed to you. Save each other, or save the world from the Decay they'd wrought upon it.

The God of Discord was a merciful soul, after all.

[throughbamboo]

Hrm.

[he nods a little bit, mulling it over]

So what'd they choose?