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pedalbike2020-11-24 06:53 pm
upcyclingmod) wrote in pedalbike2020-11-24 06:53 pm
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Fourth TDM: Winter's breath
Welcome to the Test Drive Meme.
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As a quick note: This will be the last TDM and Application Round of the year! Have fun everyone!
Not all characters (known as Wickie, singular or Wickies, plural) arrive at the same time, surprisingly enough! That’s life for you. Some Wickies find their way to the island at a pivotal (or very mundane) point in their life, or even after or during their death.
Wickies who were standing or walking often find themselves entering the town South Sister, located on Lighthouse Isle, through an open doorway. Those that were laying down, or sleeping, tend to be found lying prone in beds, bathtubs, showers, couches, and similar places within the cottages on Cottage Row. There’s no rhyme or reason to it all! To Wickies familiar with the era, they will realize that everything looks as if it’s come from the ‘90s.
The house which a Wickie finds themselves within could already be occupied. This includes walking into a fellow Wicke, waking up in the same location, or accidentally scaring a room full of people with their sudden appearance.
Oops.
Start of Winter
Thankfully things have more or less dried out, for the seasons are already changing. Or at least, the weather is, and with it...comes snow.
The grass on the island is covered, various trees lose the last of their leaves, the sand becomes crunchy, and even a portion of the ocean water becomes frozen solid. (Take THAT, water!). And with it, Wickies wake up at their feet (or suddenly in their hands if they don’t sleep) warm clothing and various ways to keep warm- or at least keep the cold from messing with their joints!
And with it, there are snow shovels and boots that are set out neatly by the door. It seems more snowk is expected, and foot protection is more important than ever. While it is possible for some (those who are not infected by the Silence at least) to use the teleporter to get from town to their homes, there are pathways that need to be cleared for everyone.
It might be a good time to offer a helping hand! Especially with some Wickies who are snowed into their homes.
Or it could be a good time to use the shovels to gather snow for snow ball fights, snow forts, and similar winter activities. The nice thing about the winter shovels is that they’ll have them for a few months.
Too bad the ground is nearly frozen solid, and these particular shovels are not good for digging into the ground.
Frosty Protections
While there may be the snow and the quiet that’s coming in, there are other things that are coming into the island too. There are tables that linger day or night, which have tangyuan. Some in the shape of various animals, and some of them that are simply balls of colored dough. They are edible, and thankfully they don’t have a negative consequence to eating them (unlike the mooncakes from before) but there are written instructions, which also proclaim outloud to a Wickie if they linger for awhile:
“For the use of protective talismans! Stick it on your chair, your door, your window!”
Interestingly enough, they do seem to work. Wickies who are Silence infected are repelled by them, feeling uneasy and nauseous around them and touching the tangyuan even with covered hands will cause a burning sensation.
Infected Wickies who eat the treats...they’re in for a rough time. Really rough.
There are also little tables with various drinks, some being fruit juice, sparkling fruit juice, champagne and of similar ilk- but not ever with water. That’s just bad luck after everything.
The inscription for this table, which is again read out loud, “Toast to others health”
Picking up the cups, they will be unable to drop it, and the fluid will refill in the Wickie’s cup until they find someone to toast to- whether it’s in humor or in earnestness.
For the next twelve hours after the toast is made, even if the drink is not drunk after, the Wickie toasted will find they will have better luck in that subject, whether it is in health, love, or friendship, or just in general.
The same applies if Wickies toast together to a group of people as well.
Of hooves and horns
The strangest thing of all isn't the sweet rice balls, nor is it the smell of evergreens heavy in the air. Instead, it's the masks set to everyone, and the ruckus music that thrums through the air, deep into the night.
The masks are of a haggard old woman, well worn and aged, and that of a man with horns and facial hair similar to a goat.
There are different effects when it comes to the masks, both happening at night with the music starts.
Wickies wearing the devilish mask find themselves wearing a ragged fur suit, prancing in the streets, ready to whip other Wickies whose behavior has been suspect or bad as of late. Finding the wicked and punishing them is an impulse, neigh impossible to ignore. And, too, there is a sense of wicked glee when they do punish someone with their reeds and whips. Krampus masked Wickies thankfully can be pacified with rum or brandy. They'll need the help of another to pull of the mask. But once it's off, the costume vanishes, and the chagrin of what happened ( or the satisfaction) follows.
Wickies wearing the woman’s mask will find that they’re not trying to scare people, but instead, they find themselves loping in and out of the crowds, searching, scanning, for certain people, all the while wearing ragged clothing, and often a scarf on their now ratty, graying hair.
It’s with a sickening horror that Wickies will realize there is something in the mask that is watching through the mask itself, and is nodding to itself far away and writing their names on a list.
And it’s not Santa Claus.
The Wickie’s wearing the old woman’s mask can be distracted by scattering seeds or threads in front of them- one inducing a true distraction to count and pick up the seeds, and a rage that comes over that of wasted thread.
Seeds make it easier to pull off the mask, and thankfully popcorn counts as a seed! But thread...well, it is a distraction too, but one that can lead to violent consequences. It might mean some rounds of bait and switching until the mask is taken off.
And that’s when the Wickie who had been wearing the mask realizing the list is of ‘bad’ Wickies, But…
how bad could they be?
Confession network
Yet again, the phone goes off. Doesn’t look like it’s anybody in town, but it’s that weird, cheesy app called The Heart Game. And it’s persistent, too: it doesn’t want to be ignored, making a series of beeps and chirps, much like a pet that wants attention.
The message that pops up is as follows:
We’re back! It’s the time for everyone's favorite game- Confession! So beloved users, our question is:
What do you love about winter? Is it the nip on your nose? The hot drinks? Playing in the snow? Tell us!
no subject
uh-huh.
.....
huh. )
...Weeeell, I did read one manga that was about someone gettin' isekai'd away through the toilet bowl. ( though in yuuji's case he came out from the bathtub (??? maybe???). he stares at fushiguro. ) Did you...?
( 'come out of the toilet bowl' goes unsaid. wait, he needs to know this first before they can discuss srs timeline differences. )
no subject
back then, he'd had kugisaki to temper his own emotions. her fury was easier to focus on than his own lingering guilt and shock; distantly, he misses that buffer (misses her, he realizes).
he calms. inhale, exhale. ]
What do you think? [ no, in fushiguro-ese. same old practical megumin. ] We all came through a door. If you don't remember it, fine.
[ megumi doesn't, either. all he remembers is stumbling and falling.
green eyes flick up and over yuuji again, looking for any signs of injury (other than the ones he's just inflicted by trying to shove the poor guy down a drain, whoops); once he's sure that the only thing to note is yuuji's invisible shiba inu ears drooping, he gestures for his classmate to follow him out of the bathroom and to his room. ]
...Itadori. [ TOILET BOWL ASIDE... ] What's the last thing you do remember?
[ something about falling asleep...? being with kugisaki??? hmm. ]
no subject
but okay, alright, yuuji will stop derailing and get serious too. (he was pretty serious about the toilet bowl, though...) but hm. yuuji sure doesn't remember a thing about a door. before he knows it, he's here. or more like, in the bathtub.
he continues to gaze at fushiguro with confused look as the classmate does an inspection on him — which he lets — and obediently follows the other to the room that they were in a moment ago. yeah this is definitely a better place to talk things out rather than the bathroom. )
Eh? Did you forget already? We were watching a movie with Kugisaki, and then I fell asleep midway... and when I woke up I was in the bathtub there.
( he points at the closed bathroom door. )
Before that we met my ex-classmate back in junior high... wait, don't tell me you don't remember anything?
( so far the information yuuji has in hand is that: 1) according to fushiguro they been isekai'd, and 2) it's not related to the curses. judging from the way fushiguro can say these flat out, he must've had a way to confirm this. rather, it seems like he's been here longer than yuuji thought. )
How long've you been here?
( an hour? two? did yuuji knock out that long? why did fushiguro ask him to leave, then? so much questions, so much confuse... )
no subject
confusion radiates off of Yuuji, obvious and earnest. Megumi, as always, tries to have the answers; a bad habit. ]
I don't remember your ex-classmate. [ chapter 64 details are lost on chapter 63 Megloomy... a real shame that he doesn't remember giving Yuuji a 10/10 on the 'real good bean' scale. that said: ] The last thing I remember is coming back from Yasohachi.
[ more specifically, two days after the fact; sitting on the edge of concrete, watching a leaking faucet with Kugisaki leaning perpendicular against the fountain.
he doesn't have anything to say about that. ]
Itadori. [ calmly, levelly. implied: stay calm. ] I've been here for a month already, but that's how these 'isekais' work, isn't it. [ ugh, he said it... the isekai word. ]
no subject
A month...
( he's so absorbed he barely noticed that he was seated. that makes him shuffles a little, like he almost loses his balance, but regains it right after. )
A month, huh.
( sometimes when you're too surprised it's difficult to react. how does he even react to this? maybe yell, but he's too preoccupied with his thoughts to do that. he's read and watched many isekai series, but every series was unique and approached timelines differently. there's no one rule, which makes this harder to process. his gaze shifts from fushiguro to the wooden flooring.
so... the fushiguro he was with was the future of this fushiguro? did that fushiguro know about this place, then? he acted pretty normally that day, for the most part. but it is also very fushiguro to not say a thing. he always does that.
...
a sigh. it's no good. the more he thinks about it, the more confused he is. )
What's this place, then? ( fushiguro obviously doesn't want him to be here. ) Have you been... okay?
no subject
it's an echo of that acerbic anger that'd prompted him to tug on yuuji's lapel and pull, but quieter— the same brand of sinking dread and resignation he'd felt way back in early summer, face-to-face with his classmate's mortality.
this isn't the sort of expression megumi wants to see on yuuji's face. the confusion, the subdued set of a boy who cares too deeply for the wellbeing of others— often to his own detriment.
even now, yuuji says 'have you been okay', as if that matters more than his own displacement and disorientation. in the grand scheme of things, megumi's month spent in limbo is insignificant; what should matter more is yuuji's own safety. that should be yuuji's priority. ]
I'm fine.
[ that's all megumi has to say about that. swiftly, he moves on. ] As for what this place is, well— [ he gets up off of his stool, maneuvers to the small desk in the corner of his sparsely-furnished room. from there, he pulls out a little pamphlet: something that someone he knows compiled for the benefit of the people who are here. it says WELCOME on the top. ] —This explains what little we know.
[ diplomatic and practical. still, when megumi sits back down, he edges a little bit closer to yuuji.
tries to read him. to understand. ] ...How do you feel? Anything off?
no subject
it remains glued on fushiguro's back, then fushiguro's face until the pamphlet is handed to him. swiftly, his eyes runs through it as his classmate explains what it is all about. he'll give it a proper read later, but he wants to have at least a grasp of what this place is. the blacked out words easily catch his attention, as with the wish list section, in particular: 'Please do not wish for an exit home, unless you’re confident that it will succeed.' )
...
( the shrinking distance tells yuuji that a question is gonna be directed at him, so he lifts his head up to meet the other's eyes. indeed, like the first time they met, fushiguro always puts him — or rather, others — first before himself. )
I'm okay. ( yuuji shifts in his seat, moving his limbs around just to make sure of it, and yep. nothing hurts, everything is intact, etc. ) Yeah, I'm good. If anything... ( he looks down on his own chest. ) Sukuna... I know he's there, but he's been real silent. Like, I dunno, I think he prolly sleeps and stuff too, but... it's kinda different. Almost like, ( he pauses, thinking about it. ) like someone? something? put him to sleep.
no subject
megumi is still. this, however, doesn't make him unreadable: it's something that he'll have to understand about himself, sooner or later. there are traces of his concern in the way he folds his hands on his knees, fingers laced— a bit of residual uncertainty in the flat of his shoes against wooden flooring, heels pressed downwards like anchors.
he watches yuuji read, and if there's one thing to be thankful in this situation, it's that megumi got here first. as always, he doesn't want to flounder— not in front of anyone, really, but yuuji in particular.
being a month ahead means that he knows why sukuna is being quiet. there have been other people on this island who have expressed similar concerns, and while that doesn't make the situation any less alarming, megumi at least doesn't have to jump to the worst conclusion right out of the gate. ]
...You too, then. [ 「お前もか」, to provide a bit of relief, if possible. a brief expression of solidarity, to indicate that yuuji is not, in fact, the only one. ] From what I know, the island is selective about who it takes. If it wanted you and not Sukuna, it's found a way to make sure that Sukuna doesn't interfere with what you're doing.
[ so like, lol bye sukunalicia. sukuna is banned from sitting at the cool kids table with megumi and yuuji, gomen not gomen.
if megumi looks a bit relieved that yuuji's inner demon is hibernating... well. it's only natural. ]
no subject
'Me too'?
( it backfires, slightly. if fushiguro's intention was to give yuuji a peace of mind, it's giving him the exact opposite, as he's assuming that there's someone else in a similar state as he is. it has yet to dawn on him that there would be people from 'other places' here, with varying backgrounds and situations.
yuuji leans forward, not quite understanding the look of relief in fushiguro's face. )
You mean... someone else here has a Curse in them, too? Is Kugisaki here? Gojou-sensei? Anyone we know?
no subject
his hands are still knit on his knees. they're still— maybe too still. ]
No. [ first things first. ] We're the only people from our world here, that I know of. But I've met others like you; people with other consciousnesses in them.
Not Curses. Not like Sukuna.
[ there's one other person that megumi has met here that reminds him of yuuji— a playful older woman housing something under her skin. but he doesn't bring that up, because... well.
of course megumi doesn't. this is already a situation that's far from ideal, and he's not going to add to the pile if he can help it. shifting on the stool, he rights his posture. ] Itadori. Try to digest this situation one fact at a time. [ "don't overload yourself right out of the gate." ]
no subject
( someone being affected with an entity like sukuna was his main concern, so that confirmation should relief him. and yet, there's still a nagging feeling at the back of his mind that leaves him restless. at this point, he's more than used to not knowing everything — it doesn't really bother him usually. but the fact that there are only the two of them here from their world, means there's high chance fushiguro will hide things and try to haul all the burden on his own.
yuuji's not the brainy kind, but even then he can tell how much his classmate feels responsible for him. a little too much, even.
still, fushiguro's right. yuuji won't understand the whole picture right overnight even if he tries to. just like how he still doesn't really know every aspect of being a sorcerer just yet. he takes a deep breath, and releases it. )
Yeah.
( he casts his gaze back down to the pamphlet, running through it more thoroughly this time round. tilting the paper and squinting, he attempts to figure out what's under the blackened bits.
hm... he isn't sure how much is considered 'discussing', so he goes against taking the risk (for now) of asking fushiguro about this directly. instead, he thinks. 'For those affected by the Purple Problem, please consider contacting a priest.' what that would entail, as he's learned from the movies... is a possession. that's where exorcists come into picture, something like what they are — jujutsu sorcerers. is that why they're here? there seems to be a solid reason why they're brought here, after all, if they're selective about who to bring over.
his eyes then narrow as they go through these two lines in particular:
'The only way to return home is to confront our "guilt" and atone for our "sins".'
'Those who die here can come back to life. You incur a penalty for dying, unless there is someone nearby who will offer to take that penalty in your place. The time it takes to revive is around half an hour.'
he'll think about the first one later — but dying is put in there like it's a normal, natural thing to happen. something they should expect. are they really in an isekai RPG? they die, they get resurrected, and then? is there a game over? he lifts his head to look at fushiguro, eyes searching for any hints of injury. fushiguro being almost completely covered in black makes it hard for yuuji to find anything, apart from the inevitably exposed skin like his neck, hands, and feet. )
You haven't... died or anything here, right?
( what a question to ask. )
no subject
he watches yuuji read. knows which parts of the memo will be a point of concern, but doesn't speak until his classmate feels the need to raise his own opinions.
and, in a way, it's a bit surreal. four weeks away from the familiarity of tokyo and their school and the usual suspects— a part of him still can't believe that that strawberry-brown hair is bobbing just within reaching distance. focused on the cadence of yuuji's breathing, the warmth he radiates like a gentle furnace, megumi almost misses the question altogether.
it probably says too much about him, that he doesn't bat an eye at it. if anything, mild confusion dances at the edge of his quiet neutral: "why would you even ask?" ]
No, I haven't.
[ and he wouldn't say, even if he had. still, he's not lying; everything about megumi is, well. megumi. in one piece, annoyingly put-together. ]
And you won't, either, if you know what's good for you. [ there it is, the quintessential 「ちょっと偉そう」. a quiet exhale, verging on a sigh. ] Try not to set any more stupid records.
[ like, you know, eating a cursed object within minutes of seeing it................ ]
no subject
Oi, take that back. 'I won't', right?
( yuuji hasn't just gotten to know fushiguro megumi. he knows well enough what his classmate is like. always putting others first before himself. even when he's not at fault, he'll carry the burden over his shoulders like it's his, so that others don't need to deal with it. everything he does screams 'whatever happens to him doesn't matter as long as the others are safe'.
it's also why yuuji didn't want to leave him alone that night, under the yasohachi bridge. the strawberry blonde sighs exasperatedly. )
You sure don't look like it, but you're pretty reckless, you know?
no subject
his brows furrow. it even looks like he might argue the point further, but he stops.
the tight line of megumi's lips settle. he chooses silence, and that voidspace sits in the air for a few beats, before he finally decides to break it. ]
Speak for yourself.
[ ok, that's close to "i don't want to hear that from you". but the point stands, and megumi briefly flicks his gaze to the side.
the telltale sign that he's not going to negotiate on this point. megumi, too, is stubborn.
(at the same time— he can't tell yuuji to think with his head, not his heart. he can't force that on someone who deserves to have it, that breadth of emotion. he will never tell yuuji not to care.
another thing that he won't tell yuuji: that death, too, is just part and parcel of being a jujutsushi. because yuuji shouldn't have become one, from the start.) ]
I'm still assessing this place. Taking it one day at a time. [ he's used to that. the harshness of his would-be anger dies before it can be directed at yuuji. ] Itadori.
You don't need to overthink it.
no subject
But I—
( —came back, he wants to say, but he swallows it. fushiguro doesn't bark back. his words, his cadence are leveled as always, even if it initally carried a little more heat, or feels like that because of his features. he's holding back. he's not having the argument.
yuuji bites his lower lip. silence fills the air as he takes in a single breath, releases. )
I'm not overthinking anything. It's not just about this place. I'm talking about you.
( does yuuji think he can change fushiguro's mind? not the slightest. he isn't that naive. still, it doesn't mean he'll negotiate his either. words that were left unsaid are things he's aware of, and yet refuses to accept. )
no subject
a familiar set of vocabulary, arranged in an unfamiliar jumble. the truth of fushiguro megumi's life is that it has never been about him: he was born of a whim by parents who left, was sold with a price tag he never determined for himself, and was 'saved' by a man he'd never met. told to become something he had no say in. the reasons and justifications always came later. megumi is not a jujutsushi because he wanted to be, but because he had to be.
the only thing he's wanted, for a long time now, is happiness for the people who deserve it. for tsumiki. and now, for itadori yuuji, too.
so, when yuuji says that they're discussing megumi—
—well. to megumi's logic, they're still, in essence, talking about yuuji.
his lips knit again. his classmate's slow spread of maybe-anger doesn't make megumi back down; obstinacy grounds him.
("don't tell me that it's about me when i'm the one that gave you your execution date." too cruel to even articulate, let alone think about for too long.) ]
I said I'm fine.
[ in his future, he'll tell nanami this: "i'll put my life on the line, but i'm also not looking to lose it." megumi doesn't have the right timing for this yet, but his tone is firm. ] —Besides, I'm not that weak.
[ didn't he promise, post-hanami, that he'd get stronger? even if his death is inevitable, he doesn't want it to be normalized here— this, he knows for certain.
a breath, and he relaxes. ]
no subject
( not just 'not that weak'. and that's not what yuuji's talking about, he knows fushiguro knows this. he takes a deep breath, and lets out a disgruntled sigh. this is going nowhere — they're both stubborn idiots, after all. if that's how fushiguro's gonna be, yuuji'll just have to watch him closely, then. he'll let this matter drop for now.
back to the matter at hand, he looks down at the pamphlet again. he reads aloud: )
'The only way to return home is to confront our "guilt" and atone for our "sins".' ... Is that why we're here? To atone for what we did in the past?
( there's no sinless person in this world. surely there's a reason why it's fushiguro and him that were called here, and not others. yuuji tries to think, his eyebrows knit. a second, two, three-- before he finally leans back and sprawls on the bed like it's his. )
no subject
like a big dog.
the gravity of the situation isn’t lost on megumi, but it’s undercut by that prevailing sense of familiarity again. a month of absence, like those weeks following his first official faceoff with sukuna.
megumi, still perched on the bedside stool, doesn’t protest yuuji’s hijacking of his space. ]
That’s the official line they’ve given us. [ whether or not it’s true? still up in the air.
and, well. there’s a beat here, as if megumi is thinking about something—when isn’t he, though—and the following breath of silence is an obvious tell that he’s decided that, whatever he’s been thinking about, he won’t say. fushiguro megumi, a terrible liar.
(“he’ll probably come here of his own accord.”) ]
According to the ones who brought us here, it’s supposed to be for our ‘own good’—who knows. [ his shoulder hike up, just slightly. a half-shrug. ] If we can find our way back to our world before we have to play their game, that’s the ideal.
no subject
That so...
( the fact that he's in a different world hasn't fully hit him yet, what with fushiguro being here with him. he twists and turns his body so he can look out the window in the room, wiping the condensation that blurred the sight out. )
Ugeh, it's snowing outside... ( he squints, peering out at the sight around the house. ) It sure doesn't look like Japan. ( it looks rather... well, peaceful to say the least, though. normal. he turns to look at fushiguro. ) So... what're your days like? Do you, like, fight anything?
( considering their norm as jujutsu shamans... )