Event Two.

[awashmods]

Dust if you must, but bear this in mind, Old age will come and it's not kind. And when you go, as go you must, You yourself will make more dust!

t hasn’t been long since you’ve arrived. The dust has settled, so to speak. And there is… a lot of dust. The town is in disrepair. Some efforts have gone into making it a bit better, but it’s going to be a lot of work, there’s no denying that. There are only a few livable buildings right now, and even those are prone to letting the rain in, or missing stairs to the clearly present second floor, floors crumbling or creaking. So it is that after a week or so to get used to their new living quarters.... There’s finally activity on the forum. Activity that doesn’t come from any of the people living here. There’s a stickied forum post, and in it, a single post, from a user FFFFFF: All-endearing cleanliness, Virtue next to godliness, Easiest, cheapest, needfull’st duty, To the body health and beauty; Who that’s human would refuse it, When a little water does it? Requirements: Everyone They only have a bit of time to try to figure out what, exactly, it wants from them -- and then things begin to happen. Welcome to Awash's first event log, everyone! Further information on this event can be found here at the OOC post. You are welcome to start your own posts or logs for this event as well. If there are any questions, please ask them here. Thank you!

Comments

[dualtone]

i. i never meant to be so cold

[ Hey, you know what's fun? When you're out walking with a pretty obvious wound and jeans that still have a hole in them to display the bandages underneath the hole, and out of nowhere, the bridge you're tentatively making your way over just... collapses.

It just collapses. It's just gone. And so is Fushimi.

Hey, he's been underwater for awhile, hasn't he? Maybe there's some debris pinning him down? ... maybe you should help? ]

ii. cleaning out my closet; (locked to the members of yata's household, in which fushimi is squatting, and/or visitors)

[ Fushimi appears in the doorway holding a head. No, like, an actual head, from a skeleton. It appears to be real. Fushimi thought he was hallucinating until he touched it and then it felt real enough that there's no way he'd hallucinate something this weird.

He tosses it over to the first person he sees, frowning faintly. ]

I figured out why no one lives here.

iii. don't be our guest;

[ Fushimi looks a little run down. A little haggard. A little... like someone who was recently stabbed, hypothermic, and is now going through caffeine withdrawal. He limps with his recently de-splinted leg straight out of the house, because he's pretty sure the dresser just talked to him and he doesn't want to deal with the feeling of his fraying sanity slowly escaping him.

He sits down on the porch of the house he's been living in in Ruga, and slowly exhales. ]

You'll just betray everyone again. [ Says a nearby rocking chair, conversationally.

Fushimi just stares at it. He's losing his mind. This is it. Clearly, his leg is infected and it's in his brain and he's going to die. Goodbye, world. Goodbye, Misaki. ]

iv. we don't need no water let the motherfucker burn

[ Have you been hearing things from furniture? Has the furniture been shittalking you? Hey, same hat!

Which probably explains why a chair -- that is on fire -- is abruptly being hurled out of a window to slam into the ground, breaking into several pieces while still repeating something about how did you think anyone actually liked you?.

A few seconds later, a face appears in the window, dropping down another piece of wood to add to the very small pyre.

It's Fushimi. He looks a little crazed. You didn't get hit, right? ]

ii

[swordfucker]

[Guren catches the skull a little too easily, first in one hand, and the other coming up to sandwich it between them. It's still a gentle hold, since he's glancing down to see just what it is—

A human skull. His hands turn it a little, his eyes narrowing as he inspects it. A real human skull...?]

Where the hell did you find this?

[dualtone]

Under a loose floorboard in the closet. [ It's not like he was trying to help clean, but when you see a suspiciously loose floorboard in the house you're squatting in, you're bound to investigate... right? There could be something useful in it. ]

The rest of the skeleton is there, but I thought this was enough. [ He leans against the doorframe, because standing hurts less and less everyday, but he's still healing from a deep muscle injury. ]

There's no sign of trauma that I saw. [ He didn't look that closely, admittedly. ]

[swordfucker]

[Huh. It's alarming that it was just there, and now it has him wondering. Why would it be in the closet? Yata's closet, he assumes?]

Shouldn't you be asking your boyfriend why he has something like that in there? [He's joking, of course, as flat as it is. It wouldn't belong in the floor boards. He steps forward, brushing past Fushimi with the skull still in hand to go to the source of this.]

[dualtone]

[ Fushimi follows at a sedate, limping pace. The limp is better, at least, but it still hasn't gone away entirely, in part because Fushimi won't stay off it, but maybe it's good to walk around! It'll prevent, uh, blood clots? ]

I'm not telling him. [ Yata's not great with ghosts, please understand, he'll never sleep in that room again. ]

We should check the rest of the house.

i.

[messianic]

[You know how many times Minato has ended up in this water already in the past week? Too many times. Still... it's really impossible to ignore the fact that someone has just fallen in, and they haven't surfaced yet.

Minato hustles his way over to the edge, skidding to a stop, crouching over the water.]

Hey--!

[... yeah, if Fushimi doesn't surface in the next moment or two, Minato's going to have to jump in, but he's going to...at least give him a moment.]

[dualtone]

[ It takes a hot minute. Fushimi's swimming skills aren't atrocious, but with a leg injury and the element of surprise at both the sudden collapse and the cold of the water, he has to struggle for a little longer than he'd like before he manages to get to the surface. He goes back under again -- twice -- before he manages to fully disentangle himself and manage to make it, sopping wet, to the edge.

Have you ever seen a cat that's just fallen into a pool? That's about what he looks like now.

He's going to respond by throwing his jacket off of his body and not exactly at Minato, just -- you know. Onto land. Because it soaks up like, twice its weight in water. ]

Ugh.

[messianic]

[Minato is thoroughly relieved he doesn't have to dive into the water, thanks, Fushimi.

But...!! As soon as Fushimi's chucking his jacket off, Minato's crouched next to the bank of the canal, reaching out for his arm.]

Hang in there--I'll help you out.

[That was a pretty nasty spill... it's like this place is out to get them now.]

[dualtone]

[ Fushimi has had to accept more help in the past week than in the past, like, five years of his life combined, and it's really starting to rub him the wrong way. His luck is bad even on a good day, but this is starting to feel patently ridiculous.

All the same, he grabs Minato's arm to help pull himself out, coughing out the taste of that nasty water. This is fine; he didn't need to be dry. Or warm. Ever, apparently. ]

... thanks. [ He offers it once the coughing has subsided a little and he has a few seconds to catch his breath and sit.

Ugh, his feet are squelchy in his boots. ]

iii.

[ifionlyhadthecourage]

[ No one's really been having a fun time, but the award for "Least Fun Time" has to go to Fushimi. Not that Caramia knew exactly what this boy had been through, but honestly, it wasn't like it was hard to tell. Despite being quite a ways off, he still caught wind of the insult spat at him. It would've been amusing to see such a surprised expression like that on someone's face, were it not for the unfortunate circumstance.

But look... he'll just...

Caramia pressed a hand against the rocking chair and very quickly flung it off the porch. Bye, chair. It may not have stop it from spewing more, but at least it wasn't in the immediate vicinity. ]

Ciao, signore. Forgive me for being blunt, but you look like [ Shit. ] you've seen better days. Are you okay?

[dualtone]

[ The chair, very calmly, emits a casual "No one really likes youuuuuuuuuuuuu" as it's thrown into the distance. Fushimi just stares at it as it lands, trying to figure out if anyone else can hear the insults. Is it just him? Is he losing his mind? Is this what it feels like? ]

I'm fine. [ Best not to admit that he may or may not be hallucinating furniture hurling his weaknesses back at him. If this guy threw the chair off the porch, then he probably heard it, right...?

A little carefully, in a very, very measured monotone, Fushimi ventures: ]

Did you... hear that?

[ifionlyhadthecourage]

[ Caramia opened his mouth to reply, only to hesitate for a moment. Would it be better to lie and say "no"? Was he worried that he overheard a piece of furniture getting saucy with him? That would be pretty embarrassing, he'd admit. Then again, there was the possibility he was just making sure he hadn't completely lost all his marbles as well, and that was also understandable. Choices, choices... Inevitably, it was hard for him to even attempt a lie in the end. There was really no reason to. ]

I heard a chair speaking, yes. [ Admittedly, weirder things have happened. Just wait until you hear his best friend is a scarecrow, Fushimi. ] Honestly, there are worse things that could happen.

[dualtone]

[ Well. At least he isn't going completely crazy. Fushimi relaxes a little, despite himself -- he can handle furniture throwing terrible insults at him, but he can't handle his sanity slipping away nearly as easily.

Fushimi exhales, looking up at the sky with a frown. ] This is crazy... [ He clicks his tongue, seemingly irritated with the entire situation. There's only so much he can do to cope with a world where furniture talks and there's no color. ]

Furniture can't talk. [ And Yet, Here They Are ]

ii....... hello.

[passio]

[ dextera had come over because guren told him that he has a teaching assignment, though he's not really sure about what in the world he's supposed to be getting up to. bonds, friendship... guren seems to lean really heavily on all that, but dextera doesn't get it.

still, he has a job. and his job probably starts with not pissing off the guy he's supposed to be befriending (at least, he thinks this is the one, based on his injury), so dextera catches the skull on reflex and looks helplessly to fushimi.

howdy, partner! there's a rando in your house! ]

[dualtone]

[ On one hand, this guy doesn't belong in the house. On the other hand... neither does Fushimi, technically speaking, so he can't exactly throw stones, but -- whoops. He wasn't trying to surprise anyone else like that; he figured it'd be Guren or Yata that was there, or maybe that other guy...? ]

Are you visiting someone...? [ Fushimi manages to sound bored and exasperated all at the same time, like dealing with someone is almost as bad (maybe even worse!) than dealing with the literal skeleton in his closet. ]

[passio]

[ oh no... he's so sorry for intruding, even though guren comes over to his place all the time without asking. still holding the skull, afraid to set it down though such a casual reaction might be even weirder, he nods uncertainly.

there's no way to try to confirm his name, so dextera just... points. if fushimi doesn't get it soon, dextera will probably just bolt and try again another day. ]

iv;

[redigere]

[Naminé's dealt with her share of crazy people, and most of the time, her automatic response is to freeze up and pray that nothing happens to her while they're being crazy in her general direction.

The chair is being very rude, though, on top of being a fire hazard, so she tries to do the good thing and nudge one of its detached legs towards the fire.

Very gingerly, since she has open toe sandals. She's probably in the way, though.]

[dualtone]

[ Well. He didn't hit someone, but it looks like it was a pretty close thing, so -- there's an irritated curse from the window, and a few minutes later, Fushimi emerges, limping slightly and casting an irritated look at the slowly burning chair, which is still attempting to give muffled insults. ]

Did I hit you? [ He drops a cushion onto the pile. It isn't saying anything, but it looks like it might be part of the chair, maybe. ]

[redigere]

[There's the freezing up, turning to look at him with even wider eyes than before.]

N-No. I'm alright.

Um. Would you like help?

[Because he's limping...even if he might be crazy, she could move his insult-throwing furniture for him and finish the job quicker.]

iv

[appraiser]

Oh. Um.

[ Ryoji's outside trying to find some way to get Fushimi's attention, but it's sort of hard making his voice heard over the dying screams of flaming furniture, and every time it tries to stick a hand out in front of the window, he quickly withdraws it before it gets slammed with something else that's on fire.

He ends up with his back pressed to the wall just outside of the window, calling out towards the opening. ]

Is everything okay in there?

[dualtone]

No. [ This is the display of how profoundly irritated Fushimi is: he's actively admitting he isn't okay. In part because he is visibly burning half the furniture in his presence, and in part because from what he's seen, the shittalking furniture is a plague upon the entire area, so it's probably not just him.

He stops throwing things for a moment, setting down what looks like... a chair cushion. ]

Did I hit you?

[appraiser]

Not directly.

[ As in, nothing's hit him and he's very grateful for it, but fire doesn't exactly die out after being thrown from a window; in all honesty, it's pretty lucky that it's dirt outside, and whatever vegetation there is, is cold and wet from the weather. ]

Is there anything I can do to make things okay? So you can stop?

iv.

[nascere]

[ No, Noctis was about two steps away from being killed by a defenestrated, flaming piece of furniture. Jumping back, alarmed as the piece of furniture continues what it's been evidently previously saying (funny, these days it's getting more common to hear things like that). It's burning up, and he looks over at the window when a smaller piece of wood comes flying out.

Okay. So, mildly deranged person? Not that he can blame him, considering the things he's overheard some saying, and all the things various pieces of furniture have been saying to him. One commiserates. ]

Sore spot, huh.

[dualtone]

[ Fushimi wasn't actually expecting anyone to be outside, but it makes sense, he supposes. If the furniture all over the area is doing this (and Fushimi hopes that all of it is, because if it's just him that this is happening to, that's a miserable existence) then most people would probably rather be outside rather than in.

Most people don't have leg wounds. Fushimi leans out the window, just enough to get a good look at Noctis, frowning faintly. ]

Furniture shouldn't talk.

[nascere]

[ He's right -- most people would rather be outside rather than in, unless it's furniture pretty much falling on them, then all bets are most assuredly off. ]

Yeah.

[ He nudges warily at a smoldering piece dubiously, more or less assured that this particular stranger isn't trying to kill him. ] This is the only one talking at you?