awashlogs | Intro Log.

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Intro Log.

It's raining, it's pouring.
The old man is snoring.
He bumped his head and went to bed
And he couldn't get up in the morning.

ou wake in knee-deep water, cold as ice and stagnant, in a space that is far too echoey and spacious. It feels like a massive cave, but looking up... there's only one small, circular opening that shows grey sky and shines any sort of light.

It looks like a long trip upwards, a small cylinder with walls of brick that's just a little too high to reach, even when jumping. Getting out is probably going to be a bit of a task, especially considering the water is more than cold enough to make limbs go numb.

The dark makes it impossible to see much further, but the space seems large, all filled with water, but with no other way out, stone walls the only thing for an intrepid explorer to find. Oh, and to make things even better, it's raining today. Water from below (though thankfully only like, knee-deep), and water from above... how fun.

But most importantly of all... you're not alone.

Welcome to Awash's second intro log, everyone! Please review the FAQ and rules before playing. New characters have all woken at the bottom of the well in the middle of the town (which seems a lot bigger on the inside, somehow), and it looks like they'll have to put in some work to get out. Thankfully, they have some friends on the outside, this time.

Once out, they'll be free to explore the various locations the Town has to offer at will. Just try not to die on any of the far-too-rickety walkways.

Please feel free to ask any questions here and don't forget to greet your fellow players here!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Yeah, and then it wasn't. That's just reality.

[As if he didn't want that. As if he didn't crave it, Ling always with him, always, as simple as that, constantly at his side, the two of them together, more intimate and intertwined than anyone else could ever be-- leading the country, sure, but it was always the unity he craved, never the power.

He knows that now.

He knows exactly why he'd only ever felt remotely fulfilled when he was at the Devil's Nest, and why there's something approaching content even now, as Ling holds his hand and stays close to him. Lonely, that's the word for that hollow feeling in his chest, right where his heart would be, if he had one of those. Lonely, desperately so, lonely for his family, for his chimera, for someone to look at him and desire him-- not sexually, not like that, but just crave him. His company, his companionship, him, all of him, and oh, maybe Ling hadn't liked him at first, but after six months--

But that was exactly why he couldn't let him die right alongside Greed.]

We were going to die, kid. It wasn't a question. Father had it in for me one way or another; the only way to make sure we didn't both kick it was to make sure we separated. But you wouldn't let go, so yeah, I lied.

[He pulls his hand back, his eyes narrowing.]

What the hell did you expect? You know me better than that. I don't go throwing away things that are mine. I wasn't going to let you die at his hand.

[What's the worst part is it isn't a bad explanation. Staying with Ling would have killed them both - okay. Ling isn't sure still that he believes that, but there's nothing inherently wrong about what Greed did, technically speaking. Sure, he lied-- lied and ripped Ling's heart clean out of his chest in one go, left him to fall to his knees and weep, to go on without Greed when he never actually wanted to... but is there something in there to be angry about? About saving his life?

Being a self-sacrificial jerk, maybe. Greed didn't have to go out with a smile, the absolute smarmy jackass—

Ling reaches over and whaps him soundly upside the head, because he can do that now. He deserves it, even if Ling has already forgiven him deep down in his core. It doesn't take much; just one inkling of forgiveness and he knows it's a matter of time before he's past this entirely. But Greed still needs a good whack for the stunt he pulled.]

Don't talk to me like I'm one of your cronies! We were partners.

[Jackass.

...Fine. He's alive, so—]

Thank you, you big, stupid pain.

Ow--

[It doesn't hurt, but what the hell, and he's so busy whacking away his hand and getting ready to yell at him he almost misses what Ling says next.

And if that doesn't shut him up, what else will?

For a long few moments there's nothing but silence again, punctuated only by the harshness of Ling's breath and the expectation that Greed will have something to say to it. And he does. He could blow him off easily; he could smirk and throw himself back and say well, shit, you're welcome, brat, now start working off that life debt, and oh, that'd be cool, that'd be fine, he'd deflect him even if Ling could see right through him, but--

But instead, he shakes his head. It's not a disagreement; it's just irritated, prompted by that churning in his gut, sick and vile.]

. . . I couldn't--

[How does he say this? This was so much easier when they shared a body; when every bit of communication was as much about emotion and memory as it was talking. Greed glares at the wall for a long few seconds, his eyes narrowed, and finally spits out:]

He'd already taken from me. He took-- I couldn't--

[No. No, this is too much, and abruptly he shoves himself upwards, standing and striding away.]

Never mind.

[What does Greed want, a fucking parade? He can't go on and on about saving Ling's life, so ungrateful, so on and so forth, and then— do whatever this is. Ling watches him intently, feeling just as strongly the lacking quality of having to look at someone and guess what they're thinking. Sure, yeah, he has to do that with everyone else, but everyone else isn't Greed, and therein lies the difference.

But then Greed is getting up—]

Hey now, come back—

[And then Ling is on his feet and darting after him, still the quick one, quick enough to get in Greed's way and look up at him, frowning. Just because they can't read each other's thoughts as easy as breathing now doesn't mean Greed gets away with being like this. Has he ever?]

Say what you have to say.

[A deep breath, in and out sharply, done purely because he feels as though he's going to snap in some kind of way if he doesn't.]

You humans live such short little lives.

[He says it to the wall, tall enough to get away with not meeting Ling's gaze just yet.]

I've seen people-- my people-- die before. Violently, a bunch of times, but sometimes they just got sick of the life. They grew up and grew old and that was that, and suddenly there's just a grave left. Most of them were human, you know? They could get away with it.

[He shrugs. People left one way or another, and sure, it'd been sad when they died. Or at least sort of sad, but not really. Life goes on, and though he'd mourned the loss of the possession, it hadn't gone farther than that. Living in the shadows meant a certain dangerous quality to life; sometimes accidents happened, and you'd be a damn fool not to think that death was something of an inevitability, but he and his had always gotten their revenge.]

But Wrath-- Father-- took the chimeras from me. They didn't just die, they were-- they were taken, do you understand? I had them, they were mine, they trusted me to look after them, and I just let them go.

[And there was a difference. There was gang warfare, there was living in the shadows and accumulating wealth and living on the wrong side of the law, and then there was that slaughter. There was the savagery of Wrath's blade, cutting through his chimeras for no real reason, other than quieting even the faintest possibility of dissent.

Those stupid fucks. Those stupid bastards, Martel and Roa and Dolcetto, sticking around instead of saving their own skins, trying to defend him, save him, and for what? What had he done to repay their sacrifice? Nothing, not even now. Even Father's death hadn't been enough to pay it back, not really, because they still ended up dead down there, sliced in half and left in the sewer to rot.

And the thought of something like that happening to Ling-- to Ling, his Ling, swallowed by Father, taken and torn from him in the worst possible way, his soul consumed and his body rotted-- was utterly intolerable.

He glares down at him, fingers curling at his sides.]

I wasn't going to let him kill you too. I couldn't, do you understand? It wasn't even a choice.

[Neither of them is any good at dealing with loss. Greed gets angry, pulls away-- Ling falls apart, desperate and too emotional, ready to give up everything he's worked for and then some in an instant, for one person's survival... The Philosopher's stone was supposed to save everyone and it didn't; if anything, it caused more loss than it was worth.

So. He might not understand exactly what Greed means, short-lived and human as he is, but he's tasted immortality and felt the sting of loss enough to empathize.

And he won't scold Greed about his fallen friends, not again, he's already handled that— he already yelled until Greed snapped about how cruel it is to abandon friends, and he isn't going to rearrange that to be about leaving him, that would be stupid. No.]

I— [understand? forgive? anything?] I know. I...

[He looks down instead, stuck there, and steps forward to bump his head into Greed's chest. Maybe wear a shirt next time they're going to get emotional at each other, just a thought--]

It's alright. I understand. I only wanted to... talk about it.

[Yay, mission accomplished?]

[If it were anyone else, he'd snarl and scoff and shove them away. How could anyone know? Humans lose people all the time, but they aren't him; they aren't the personification of avarice (of loneliness). No human could possibly understand the depth of loss he'd felt when he saw the sewer stained red with their blood.

But Ling is different. The fact of the matter is that there's no one else in the world who knows quite so intimately just how he feels.

One arm comes up, wrapping around his shoulders. His fingers find the tie that keeps his hair back, tugging at it so he can rake his fingers through Ling's hair properly as he yanks him in close.

He's so warm. He's so fragile, blood and bone and heart, all that speed and those muscles hiding a body that can break so terrifyingly easily. His heart pounds and Greed can feel it; his chest rises and falls, and Greed takes note of the rhythm, matching his own breathing to it.]

You're mine.

[His possession. His body. His prince, his emperor, his Ling--]

Just like they were.

[His, his, his, Dolcetto sliced in two, his innards spilling out onto the brick, Roa's throat sliced so neatly his head was all but severed, that awful feel as he'd shoved his hand through Bido's stomach, his his his--]

And I'll kill anything that tries to take you from me.

[Just hug him, it's fine, hugging is allowed. Ling slumps as soon as he's pulled in, face squished against Greed and not even caring about his hair or how uncomfortable he might get, pressed so close he might just fuse right into him and put them back to normal.

This would be enough for him, incidentally. He only needs Greed to touch him once to be sure that they've passed this well enough for now, enough to be on the same page about it at the very least. But Greed has, apparently, other, slightly crazier ideas that he feels the need to share. Ling doesn't mind; he isn't one of Greed's sidekicks, he's different, he's always been some other thing outside the realm of normal friendships, but...

It's there somewhere. In the way Greed messes up his hair or just stands there quietly at first, no doubt thinking about Ling's pathetically short human life - it's there. He doesn't need to explain.

But jesus, chill out a little. Ling almost replies sooner but his voice catches as he remembers Greed's... self, his whole being, that grinning face staring wildly out of Father's own mouth, trying very much to kill the thing that ate God rather than let Ling or anyone else be killed. Hm.

Please chill just a little.]

I think that's fair, [he says, a little, uh, muffled.] Can we go back now?

[This house may be "his," but now that they've gone and done this here, he wants very much to go back to drawing on Greed's laptop somewhere else.]

[He holds onto him for just a few seconds longer. Just to say he can; just to give himself a long few seconds to compose himself. Then he takes a step back, and then another, pushing Ling back gently but firmly. Off, and now there's a distance between them, both physical and emotional.

He looks at him for just half a second more before turning on his heel.]

Come on.

[As if Ling was the one holding them up. As if none of this had just happened. He's already out the door, in fact, and only stops to call back:]

Hey, bring your box too!

[Greed, don't be this dramatic, please. Ling moves to trail after him without picking up his laptop at all, so good call - he doubles back for that and carries it under his arm as he hurries to catch up. He's going to stay stuck to Greed's side no matter how many times he's pried off, there's really no helping it.

Also this dumb laptop won't work outside of his own house but that will be a fun lesson to learn in a few minutes, when they get back--]

Your house is bigger than mine. [is all the extra room for his nose? goddamn.]

Because they knew you'd deal with it. They knew I'd insist on something bigger, and probably end up dragging you with me to my new house either way. So better to just give me the bigger one and save everyone the trouble, huh?

[That seems logical! There they go, out of Flavo and back into Ruga, the superior section.]

Don't sulk about it!

[He'll stop sulking if he's allowed to draw more pictures, that's the deal.]

Oh, am I staying here? Is that why I brought my box?

[Like, he wasn't going to leave anyway, but he wants Greed to admit it.]

I don't know, are you?

[Watch as he cleverly turns it back around on Ling, ha hah!

The good news (or bad, maybe) is that nobody's stolen his vest in the time they've been gone, and it seems a little more dry. So that's nice, at least, one good thing out of this stupid over-emotional day.]

Hey, go draw me something.

[Greed, no, that's not it at all. Ling puts down his box next to the other one, shrugging off that stylish coat before he flops down on the couch as if he does, truly, live here.]

Do you want me to?

[Just SAY IT... now, a good fifteen seconds after he picks his box up again,] It doesn't work anymore.

What do you mean, it doesn't work anymore?

[This he chooses to reply to, rather than the deep emotional question of before. He sprawls on the couch next to him, leaning against him and prodding at the box. It remains off, and he scowls.]

You drop it?

You were with me the whole time, you know I didn't drop it.

[Please, just because he almost dropped the other one just by sitting here... that means nothing. He leans right back against Greed and clicks way too many times on the laptop; still nothing.

So, fuck.] Does yours still work?

[It does indeed, as a bit of investigation reveals. He looks stupidly pleased by this, like it's a sign of him winning or something. Who knows why! But yes, there it is, those shitty doodles still up on the paint screen.]

Here.

[Just use his, babe.]

[In that case, fuck this box, he pushes his own off to the side on the couch and takes Greed's instead, ready to doodle... something. In a few brief moments he produces a blob with a point at the top, which is... nothing, it's nothing. But he has an excellent claim:]

It's a dumpling.

It's pathetic.

[DO BETTER.]

[show some respect you prick]

You draw something first.

Like what?

[But he's already taking the laptop back, ready to show off.]

More dumplings.

[He's starving, entertain him with food pics. Ling invents Awashtagram.]

[Their masterpiece, as it were. He worked very hard on that dumpling, he spent at least ten seconds on it.]

Don't try and eat the damn box.

[He loves it, draw another one in his pixel mouth. He's about to say something about how he's not going to eat the box, but he's interrupted by his traitor stomach growling and just stops then and there. Listen.

He's hungry.]

[The flattest of looks, and then he pointedly pulls both magic boxes away from Ling.]

You'll eat a shoe, before you start bitching. I don't trust you around these things.

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i'm sorry i'm still floored by how gay this is

like ling isn't gonna get this gay later on

i don't know what you mean

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