smash_logs | DORM LOG GET IN HERE EVERYONE

Entry tags:

DORM LOG GET IN HERE EVERYONE

Who: You, you, you, and you
What: Dorm hijinks and etc. Whatever you want.
Where: Student and Teacher dorms, and quite possibly beyond. Whatever happens happens, bro!
When: January 13 - January 31
Warnings: I wrote 'hijinks'. That should explain everything.

Ripped off the last one and all its friends: Basically, here's what's going down. We all know our characters experience downtime after classes and their busy schedules, and this is a good venue for those kinds of miscellaneous dorm-shenanigans to take place. Not only does it give your characters the easy chance to meet new people in a laid-back environment, but it's a good mechanism for strengthening CR. It's easy!

Feel free to begin in any way you please! Plan with (a) fellow player(s) if you'd like! Or, set up a thread and wait for characters to bite! Anything and everything is possible. Slumber party in the common room! Build a wall outside your best or worst friend's room from whatever garbage you find lying around to prevent them from escaping the confines of their dorm! Gather around the TV for some late night movie action! Kidnap a princess or two! Break down some unfortunate walls! Whatever you want. It can all be yours if you make a thread. So have at it! Don't let this log get away untagged.

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Rhys read his words patiently, soaking in the details and recalling the memory of each spirit, having encountered each of them in the past. The novelty of meeting mythological figures had long since worn off (but the thrill? never!), and it pained him to recognize that Cyrus's request to get in touch with Mesprit was laced with dark intent that he hadn't even thought about. He reached the end of Cyrus's written explanation and puzzled at that final sentence.

"Become a god... Was that your true intent out of all this? Is that how you planned to reshape the world into one with the ideals you sought?" His voice was gentle but he could hardly breathe with the anxiousness for more answers constricting him.

They had spent much time together recently and yet the subject of Cyrus's goals had never been approached. Had it been because Rhys didn't want to lose the idea he had of Cyrus as a fundamentally good man?

But he was still a good man, he though. He always had been. That was why he did it, because it had to be done.

Cyrus steeled his will and centered his thoughts, forcing out one solid word in boldness. "Yes."

"I see..." Did he see? He wasn't sure. There was still a lot of confusion about the whole topic, and Rhys wanted to set things straight and finally confront the reality of all this.

"Tell me something more. If you had become a god like you had wanted, what would you have done then?"

Cyrus sighed, thoughts arranging in his mind, clearing away like so much scrub. "Create it. R-Rule it. Maint-tain it."

Damn that stutter. When things were finally there, he still had difficulty focusing them from his lips. But even that couldn't make such a holy subject sound anything less than ideal.

"It would b-be paradise. It will be. A world where t-there is no fighting and no s-strife..."

Both the content and way Cyrus stammered his words out made Rhys spout sympathy within and it showed as a crease in his brow. It sounded so genuine, this wish of his, and almost childlike in simplicity. Yet, the wish was at strange odds with the apparent means of achieving it.

But perhaps Cyrus had changed since then, traumatized as he so seemed. It wasn't the nicest way for someone to change, and that was very regrettable and hard to watch, but it didn't sit well with Rhys to understand that Cyrus was willing to reset the world for his goal. And Rhys had the suspicion that even if Cyrus had been successful in becoming a god to oversee a world with no conflict that the peace wouldn't last as long as he would want it to. That had been how Tellius had begun, had it not? Yet the strife followed suit anyway despite the preestablished harmony. Then again, he had often spoken of the very existence of emotions as the source of malice that bred wars, and if he intended to erase those to make a perfect world possible, then-- Ah, it was disturbing to think about.

So he asked, "Then... What do you think of that goal now?"

The words came now, unhindered by that stutter but in a far greater mass than could be easily understood. They were elaborate, they were overwhelming, and they were terrifying.

"The strength of the universe in its birth, all things laying before it. No limits, nothing hindering the possibility of everything that could be. And what became of that world? What twisted it? Those evils that consume it...hatred, violence, strife... In that perfect world, none of them would exist! What I believe, yes, what we all require, what is needed for the universe to unleash its full potential!"

It was as if he was delivering one of his old speeches. As if he was once again behind a podium addressing his followers, all of them soaking up every syllable with the attention the salvation of the universe demanded.

He stood, starting to gesticulate.

"Yes, that which is needed! That which will cast aside all that is wicked! That terror of the everyday, that we so overlook! Those distractions that turn our heads from that which consumes us, that we ignore it till even after we are devoured! That which cannot exist! That perfect world will be shaped, yes, these very hands will shape it!"

Yeah, uh... so much for that. It seemed impossible to convince him to abandon that idea if he was going to spring right back to it like a yo-yo completing a cycle. Surely he didn't... hope to go about it the same way he did those couple of months ago?

"But it didn't work out the way you had hoped, and even if it had... what of the lives you had planned to erase?"

"Those remaining, useless! Cast aside, unnecessary! I will rid the world of all that is not needed! Only those select few will remain."

He hadn't meant to reveal that much. Once it dawned on him that he had confessed to something so horrific, his eyes widened and he dropped down, his Weavile pushing him so he fell towards the couch.

It was as if the air had gone out of him. He fell silent again, eyes unfixed.

"...You will be there," he murmured against the cushion, knowing it wouldn't change Rhys's mind at all.

Rhys had made a jolt of a move like Weavile to prevent him from collapsing and possibly hitting his head on the table or something equally unfortunate, but it was nothing more than a jolt before he realized that Cyrus had safely fallen. His raised hands settled down slowly and he stared down at the other man, fraught with even more worry than he already posed.

No, it wouldn't change a thing. While the conception of being salvaged among many was a nice one, it failed to be nice knowing that everyone else would be subject to erasure. This really, truly was an echoing reminder of the goddess Ashera's bidding those few years ago, her desire to wipe out all of her creations because their imperfections lead to warfare. Split away from her emotions, this was all well and good for her, as people had become nothing more than mistakes to her critical judgment. While Cyrus had not been a god to begin with, it was still the same principle.

"What right does anyone, god or not, have to decide who is unnecessary to the world?" There was a solid, horrified disbelief resonating through his tone.

One thing was clear, as Rhys's words reached Cyrus's swirling thoughts. To Rhys, not even the gods could make that judgement.

He reached for the paper again, still face-down on the couch. It is our right as citizens of the world to have value to a greater goal. To the betterment of the world. Those who do not contribute to it are to be disregarded. Those who hinder it are to be punished.

And he had a sensation that he was only digging himself deeper.

Rhys could feel his stress levels rising, as should be apparent to anyone who knew him. It wasn't often he got so adamant about his point of view, but this special topic was enough to toss him over the edge of personal normality. Taking a wispy sigh, he moved away from the couch and Cyrus and Weavile and toward the kitchenette while Cyrus was still writing his message, leaving with the explanation, "I'm going to make us some tea."

"......"

He knew it had crossed a line. And yet, Rhys had to find out sometime. It was logical to tell him, because some day it would occur.

So why did this feel like a mistake?

Of course, he needed Rhys's alliance. But this was more than that. This went beyond the possiblity of simply severing a professional relationship.

This hurt.

"Rhys..." He managed to keep it to that word until he could approach the man. "You are...yes, helping. Must keep clearing my head, all the time, cannot think otherwise. Take anything away, only one, always important. Something above everything. Something greater than any of us."

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DORM LOG GET IN HERE EVERYONE

Re: Cyrus and Rhys Have Temporary Roomate Adventures

Re: Cyrus and Rhys Have Temporary Roomate Adventures

Re: Cyrus and Rhys Have Temporary Roomate Adventures

Re: Cyrus and Rhys Have Temporary Roomate Adventures

Re: Cyrus and Rhys Have Temporary Roomate Adventures

Re: Cyrus and Rhys Have Temporary Roomate Adventures

Re: Cyrus and Rhys Have Temporary Roomate Adventures

Re: Cyrus and Rhys Have Temporary Roomate Adventures

Re: Cyrus and Rhys Have Temporary Roomate Adventures

Re: Cyrus and Rhys Have Temporary Roomate Adventures

Re: Cyrus and Rhys Have Temporary Roomate Adventures

Re: Cyrus and Rhys Have Temporary Roomate Adventures