beta testing 0.2: quest update

[gamedevs]

beta testing 0.2

BETA NOTE: This log is being used for Duocaeli’s Tutorial & Dungeon Beta Testing. Please note that some game features are limited and will be noted in this format on pages, and an invitation is still required to play. Thank you and have fun!

Patch Update

Maybe you’ve been getting settled in for a little while now, maybe you just arrived yesterday. Hopefully you’ve been able to adjust to your surroundings, since it seems like some big changes are coming. All Dodo residents will receive a Duocaeli notification on their phones:

> 0.2 Expansion has arrived! Server capacity has increased. New locations await you, worldwalkers.
> New quests can be accepted in Windhaven Woods, Aria's Grove, Dandelion Fields!

At the exact same time, completely coincidentally, a city-wide broadcast is sent directly to characters inboxes:

> Thank you for your patience with our construction, city-goers! As our Pride Parade goes underway, we are proud to share the grand re-opening of many venues throughout the city. Love is love!

Those who wander to the Divination Tower in Domus Hosus, whether on purpose or because the stairs guide you there, will see that both of these broadcasts are proudly displayed amidst the glimmering gems. If you try to read your fate in the stars, they will delightedly provide you with a prophecy. However each prophecy comes in images, beckoning you to a new location with… a certain someone! Immediately after receiving this prophecy, you will feel naturally compelled to find that individual, stranger or friend, and affirm your fate. Maybe you'll end up going somewhere out of your depth? At least you won't be alone!

> 1. Questboard

The quest board at the guild hub has been updated with the latest patch! Excited players are gathered around to collect new bounties, which are open to all. The guild hub also provides a useful bestiary, which is readily accessible by guild members via crystals.

A. SWEET DREAMS ARE MADE OF THESE
Avisle University has requested assistance in collecting Blue Chamomile from the northern part of Windhaven Woodlands for study. These flowers are known to aid sleep and have some rejuvenating properties as well, if taken as a tea. They are best harvested in pairs as they feed off positive energy—once their petals start glowing, the plant is ready to be plucked. You’ll have to make your quest partner laugh, or pay them a genuine compliment that makes them smile. You can also share your dreams for the future, or a good memory. The plants also enjoy music! Even the most tone-deaf of vocalists are appreciated by these chamomiles.

Additionally, these flowers are HUGE fans of PDA. If your characters hold hands, or hug, or k-kiss... it may seem like they are slowly turning their petals towards you...

As noted on the Locations page, it would be wise to remember that Windhaven Woodlands can be quite confusing to navigate. The trees like to stretch their roots multiple times a day, often altering paths that characters have taken. At times branches will weave themselves together so tightly, it blocks out most sunlight. It’s very possible to get lost here, but those with keen navigation skills will notice that the wind always seems to flow in the direction of Avisle at the beginning and middle of the hour, like clockwork.

REWARD: A sachet of Blue Chamomile tea, made with some of the petals you helped harvest. If you take it before you sleep, you will find yourself waking up fully refreshed the next morning whether in the ON or OFF world. You may even find yourself briefly dreaming of the good memory that your quest partner shared with you!

FAILURE: You will grow flowers on your body that cannot be removed, purely cosmetic. Lasts until you log off the server.

B. 'TIL DEATH DO US PART
Rumor has it that there's a malevolent spirit haunting Aria's Grove, one with particularly sticky fingers, that's been stealing items from sleeping travelers–as well as dreams. Those with their dreams stolen will feel an almost unshakable malaise and melancholy. The Wanderer's Guild is looking for adventurers to locate and dispel this spirit for good, as it's the only way to retrieve lost items (and dreams).

Whoever manages to navigate the woods to Aria's Grove will find not a spirit, but a small, crystalline golem made from broken shards. It speaks in a soft, tinkering voice, saying, "My love, my love." It's unable to do much damage, but it's fast and evokes a sensation of grief and despair in whoever draws close to it. Adventurers may recognize this as a gemwalker, and know that the only way to free the ghost trapped inside is to break the crystal form.

Upon doing so, they'll find a watch that was encased in the crystal, with a name etched into the back. Regardless of how much they ask around, they'll be unable to find anyone by that name.

REWARD: A special compass from the Wanderer's Guild. It can be set to always point toward a location of the owner's choosing.

C. A HARE-OWING CAT-ASTROPHE
In the Avisle town square, festivities are abound; red and gilded gold streamers stretch across the plaza, rabbits hop along, eager to be held, cats preen on unlikely perches, and the guilds have plenty of free food and drink out to be enjoyed—as well as a limited-time bounty being offered for the new year! Help out and earn yourself a reward.

• Bake goods for guests, who are notoriously harsh. Sometimes recipes here will lead you astray.
  
• Mix or taste-test some drinks... which only seem to exacerbate your elemental symptoms (see prompt 3. ELEMENTAL ECCENTRICITY below for details).
  
• Deal with jealous tiger monsters that set fire to various stands and attack festival-goers. They can be fought (NPC rabbits will help), but also seem intelligent, and can be bribed to depart with treats, brushing their (sometimes flaming hot) fur, or other offerings. These creatures don't seem to be native to Avisle; if you follow one outside of the city, they'll fly right off the edge of the island...
  
• Like above, attacking the rabbits in any way or causing problems will get you mobbed by knife-wielding bunnies with 9999HP.

REWARD: Free food, daiya, and a good time!

Though from there... it looks like there's a few additions that must be completed in the OFF world?

D. H҉A҉P҉P҉Y҉ HOPPIN’ NEW YEAR
Red envelopes need to be distributed to the students of Gruidae University in celebration of the Lunar New Year! (Our usual guy, Jimmy, is out sick…) In the spirit of the Year of the Rabbit, volunteers will be asked to wear a tasteful (or ridiculous) set of bunny ears and a soft, poofy bunny tail while on the job. Just make sure to avoid the BPL (Bunny Protection League) activists lurking among the student body, they take their duties seriously and will attempt to divest you of your bunny appendages if caught.

REWARD: A red envelope (the amount can be anywhere between $20 to 23 cents) and coupon to the newly opened bunny cafe located at the mall. You will also receive a cute bunny ear accessory in your ON World inbox.

FAILURE: A forced viewing of the documentary, Bunnies Are Human Too, while surrounded by passionate BPL members.

E: BIRD M҉E҉A҉S҉U҉R҉I҉N҉G҉ CONTEST
As an icebreaker, Dodo is hosting competitions in the Training Hall! Get to know your new housemates by having an impromptu battle. This doesn’t have to be combat-related or any sort of traditional duel: you can challenge your partner to lifting weights, a dance-off, even Twister and other board games. There will also be gaming consoles and seating in various corners—FATALITY!

REWARDS: Bragging rights! Dodo will also send a little spa set/gift package to the winner’s room, which includes bird-themed face masks. Also, the winner will be able to stay in the OFF world for up to 5 days (one time), rather than 3.

FAILURE: Public humiliation.

Conveniently, non-PC players can't seem to see these last two bounties at all. Oh well—get to questing!

> 2. Okay get a job?

Sometime while you’re minding your business, you’ll be interrupted by a neat little beep beep! On the screen of your phone:

☑️ Go to Your Internship in Crane City

Tapping the prompt will bring up the Maps app and directions to what is apparently your internship! And it looks like it’s in the same format as other checklist quests–aka, it won’t stop beeping until you complete it.

If you don’t want to go crazy from notifications, you'll simply have to go out and explore the big city. Maybe you have to go and work the concessions stand at the movie theater, which appears to be showing Shrek and Cats if you want to sneak into a showing, or you get the ever coveted position of cat cafe barista. Perhaps you’re suddenly a neurosurgeon! Wow! Don’t fuck it up, guy! While you do get compensated for your work, it seems like an amount gets automatically deducted for your Duocaeli subscription. Uhhh, is that legal? Apparently.

With Pride currently underway in Crane City, the jobs are also just a little bit more vibrant. You can help manage the parade if you want to, or have a job as a sexy, sexy flag bearer. Everything in the city glistens with festivities, whether it be raucous parties or other joyful celebrations.

> 3. ELEMENTAL ECCENTRICITY

As expected, learning new things comes with a few unexpected speed bumps. For those who attempt to practice with their new elemental magic, whether it be in the world of Duocaeli or within the confines of Dodo’s walls, they might feel a sudden surge of power course through them. Is it more refined control? Improved strength? Hm, it feels a little bit more like…

—Oh. No.

For characters aligned with Fire or Earth: Your emotions are just a little bit stronger now–but also a little bit out of your control. While everything feels inherent to you, it also feels like everything is turned up to 11. Oversensitive? How dare you! Say that to my face! …. Well, hopefully it passes quickly.

For characters aligned with Water or Light: Nothing’s amiss here–it’s just unbelievable that you are currently existing as you are, and no one is holding your hand or giving you a hug right now. Some might call it being a little bit touch starved, but physical contact should be normalized, you know? A punch can be a touch, too, if that’s more your style.

For characters aligned with Wind or Darkness: Well, thank god you’re not dealing with anything quite as bad as the others–no, you just find that your words are flowing a little bit more freely. A little more honestly, even. Hopefully you don’t have all that much to hide, but you know, some vulnerability can be good for the soul.

These effects can suddenly surge and hit you at any point during your day! They're temporary, but always sneaky :)

OOC Notes

Our Reserves open tonight at 11:55 PM EST —drop in and let us get excited for you!

Also, everything from BETA TESTING 0.1 is still available to play with. Feel free to use old prompts and dungeons! Also, during Beta Testing, we'd like to remind players that we're accepting any and all feedback that could help us improve the game before official start.

---

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[duskspear]

[Do y'all hear sumn?

In the brief time he's known Mithos, there's always been a barb behind every word. This is different. Roland believes there's a reason, else Mithos wouldn't have bothered to come this far—much less in current company—but he lets the inquiry end there. Prying isn't part of his duties.

Instead, he leans back to clear up some space around the chamomiles.]

. . . Would you like to take a closer look?

/2

[reliance]

[ (hughette voice) don't IGNORE ME,

not roland leaning back and asking him that. mithos could wonder the same thing about roland's presence, or... well, maybe not. he just doesn't understand it. nor does he understand the way that he considers that offer for a moment longer than he would be normally, perfectly timed as it is.

has anyone ever seen someone do something while making it so obvious they don't want to do it? that sure is mithos' vibe while coming over to roland, perching himself close to the unwanted (?) company. ]

Don't ask.

[ this is the most ominous thing in the world. which, yeah. mithos reaching over to brush roland's hand tentatively is pretty ominous. especially when he looks frustrated doing it. oh, how excited these flowers must be— ]

[reliance]

[



—and then they can be completely disappointed when mithos shifts from that brush to a pinch. he's still not even looking at roland as he does this...... his focus remains on the flowers, as he's torn between wanting to pull back now that that terrible itch is subsiding (slightly)... and remaining, as he continues to feel it. this obviously isn't enough. ]

... I knew I should have left when I saw it was you. You have a gift for showing up at the most annoying times.

[ roland better not draw his hand away.

but also he better draw his hand away. ]

[duskspear]

[Mithos' throwaway remark alarms Roland more than it confuses him, because the brush follows soon after. His hand tenses at the pinch before relaxing a touch while he remains alert, puzzled yet patient in his desire to parse just what's transpiring between them now. He was told not to ask, so he doesn't, though that does little to stop him from wondering.

Those words don't sting. Coming from Mithos, they're expected. But those that tumble out of his own mouth catch him off guard.]

My brother thought so as well—before he was slain by that woman.

[There's a deafening beat before his breath catches and he darts his gaze away from Mithos and the flowers, which are surely wilting from the violence brought on by the both of them. The memory of that gruesome moment trickles back like the flow of Frani's blood then, and his brow twitches from the many emotions that stir at once—none of them, good.]

[reliance]

[ roland does have a gift. where he might expect mithos' words, mithos doesn't expect his; how could he? that statement is familiar and raw, made worse by how absolutely out of nowhere it is. but it also isn't, when mithos takes into account the reason he came to see the chamomiles in the first place...

truly, roland is a simulation born specifically to trigger him. the echoes back to martel are enough to shatter the fervent need for contact temporarily. still, it sits quietly thrumming in the background, taking over the space where the anger and grief sat before being forced forward by — of course — roland.

mithos doesn't yank his hand away. he does pinch harder, as their irregularities slowly align. ]

If you can't fight against it, you're going to starve the flowers.

[ says the kid ruining roland's hand. says the most negative bitch around,

but this is obviously not what mithos wanted to focus on. the way he says it — emotionless and flat — gives off the impression that he's using it to fill in the silence.

he has a feeling that admission wasn't entirely intentional. while mithos is emotionally stupid, he sure isn't lloyd stupid, and roland is being astoundingly transparent with his reaction to his own words. at least mithos is controlling his own expression. overwhelmingly so, as he seems drawn taut.

yet he can only fight his genuine interest for so long. his face might not betray him; the follow up questions definitely do. ]

... Is that actually true? Your brother was killed by someone?

[ yes, mithos did tell him to mind the flowers and then decided to keep on track with roland's trauma regardless. yes, mithos does assume he would lie about that, because the context between them is rancid— ]

[duskspear]

[Once, he stood alert in a torrential downpour lest a moment of weakness undo everything for which everyone had worked. He was insensate to the discomfort then, and he's insensate to the pain of the pinch now as old grief claws its way to the forefront.

Mithos is correct. He should fight it. As far as his tongue is concerned, there's nothing to fight; however, if he doesn't make an effort to moderate what he says, the flowers will wither ere long.

Still, caught between pleasing the flowers and acknowledging Mithos' curiosity, he ultimately faces the latter while failing to meet his eyes. What remnant of a smile he had left dissipates in full as he stares at a patch of greenery beside Mithos. It's difficult to maintain a certain persona when he's reminded of the guilt and loss—of love that was great enough to die for it—that his voice momentarily dips back to its true low from the breathy high he so often uses.]

. . . Yes. He gave his life, that I might live.

[And what a fine job he's done of it, he thinks. Not only has he fled the castle more than once, he can scarcely hold his own tongue when their success hinges on self-control. Mithos should have come here with someone else: At least then he could be enjoying the flowers at the peak of their health.]

[reliance]

[ and were he here with someone else, perhaps they'd offer sympathy and kind words where it's deserved. mithos has neither for roland, though there's a notable absence of the very obvious insults he could offer in the silence, as the grip on roland's skin loosens. that isn't mercy on mithos' part — it's merely what it is, as he takes in the words. the change in inflection. roland's eyes avoiding his.

mithos has deceived and been deceived enough to find suspicion where it's already growing, the gestures exacerbating the feeling. that's why he delves deeper. to find the hypocrisy in roland's words and ideals, and nothing else. ]

He didn't do anything like that. You may have lived, but nothing was given. It was just taken.

[ it's simple honesty, cruel in its own right. there's no feeling to be had in a sacrifice for mithos, for multiple reasons. in the end, roland's brother had no choice in his death. saying otherwise was stupid.

stupid like other things, in the face of what he knows. but he won't get into that... not yet. ]

[duskspear]

[His eyes slide shut. "Taken." How right that sounds. How furiously that boils his blood as he recalls the moment Avlora cut Frani down without a second's thought. It was by everyone's grace that he lived, but the lives of those lost were taken in cold blood.]

You're right. . . . And I dreamt of killing them for it.

[For taking everything and leaving behind shattered fragments. Dull as his tone is—old as the memories are—his hatred burns in the depths of his heart.

He opens his eyes. And there it will fester.]

But that was when I could dream.

[reliance]

[ haha, wow. it isn't like mithos is looking for acknowledgement from someone like roland. or anyone. yes, he knows he's right. even still, hearing that confirmation from someone he'd cast into a role that would never stray down that path does make him pause.

mithos doesn't linger too much. not on that... or the fact that he's reflected here, too. it's simpler when roland is human; there's a degree of separation that mithos can latch on to. something that makes it impersonal, even as he finds his own muted feelings bubbling underneath the surface in response.

his hand on roland's wrist is nothing but a ghost of a touch now, barely there. ]

Then what was that impossible, empty ideal of a world where no one deserves to suffer? That path you're walking with the life you somehow managed to keep?

[ if there's anything that mithos is wonderfully skilled at, it's remembering. remembering other people's words, their betrayals, his grudges, and his grief. even without the memories, he only needs the last two to know.

if roland had allowed himself to let go of that bloody dream, with his brother cut down in front of him, but keep that one— ]

Those dreams are the ones that don't last. The ones where people like that woman are punished do, because that's what they deserve. Those feelings don't go away. No... they shouldn't go away.

[ they never will. ]

[duskspear]

[Roland remembers. A fanciful dream, he called it, yet he no longer dreams. The perfect, just world beyond his inept reach lies on the other side of the lonely road on which he walks. There are no more winding courses or divergences. A single path lies before him, and he marches unwillingly through the burial grounds of the forsaken; such is his reality, whereas the reality in which Mithos' hand ghosts over his feels so far away that he can barely hear his own voice.]

That woman . . .

[In the end, she disappeared while he nearly destroyed the light of his life and himself with it. It was he who stained his own hands with the blood of kin, yet his confusion and rage remain to this day, never to go away.

The hatred sickens him. Even now, it arrests his heart like poison. It whispers seductively into his ears, beckoning him to heap the blame for his failings at the feet of a convenient scapegoat. It's a disease that twists the mind, and he hates it. It's no dream, but a nightmare—one from which he can never awaken.

Then what of Mithos, who would call it a dream instead? What feelings does he carry?]

Vengeance blinded me. It was only after I shut my eyes to it that I saw the world clearly again. These feelings within me . . . are a curse.

[reliance]

[ poor flowers. they don't even have mithos' barely there touch to feed them now, given that he's drawn away when roland calls his anger a curse. that foreign need for contact protests — hums again, ever present and annoying. mithos ignores it.

he was wondering if roland was a liar or a fool. whether he preached peace while silently harboring a biting need to make things even, or if he abandoned the parts of himself that mithos had kept alive for millennia. the parts that he can't abandon even now, standing at the end of the path and looking back.

not that this is personal. not that they're the same. mithos wasn't blinded by his anger; he saw everything clearly while holding it righteously to his chest, as he should. he sees everything clearly. he knows roland is both fool and liar. ]

You've hardly lived through anything, but you talk as if you know... Your brother died for you, and in return you call his memory a curse.

[ because that's what those feelings were— are, to mithos. martel's memory persisting. abandoning those emotions would be nothing short of accepting the injustice she was dealt, and the betrayal they'd suffered. it would be betraying her. he can't allow himself to do that. he's disgusted that roland, in his circumstances, would even entertain such a thought.

(deep down, like with lloyd, maybe he envies that.) ]

... Humans are so fickle.

[ surely his crouching down to these wilting flowers and giving them a little mana will make up for the fact roland and mithos are absolutely ruining their day, right? right?


no, they're still dying. ]

[duskspear]

[The blur of movement in his periphery draws his attention. While Mithos' words pick at old wounds, Roland's heart shakes at the sight of the wilting flowers. He reaches out to lay a hand over Mithos'.

Humans are fickle. They see what they wish to see. Perhaps he imagines the subtlest lift of those dull petals before them.]

My brother was more than the violence perpetrated against him . . . The curse is my weakness alone.

[Mithos isn't entirely wrong. Roland's last memory of Frani is a curse, because it was the moment he realized how little he'd known his brother's heart. Now he'll never know it. So he cherishes that memory as much as he rages, but the true curse is his inability to do anything else—how his bloodlust and incurable incompetence spit on Frani's sacrifice.

By setting his grieving heart aside, he can do better at the one thing left to him. He must.]

[reliance]

[ it sure is a good thing mithos can't read minds. because that last sentence would be the worst.

not that roland touching his hand isn't, especially when he's saying all of these things that mithos is still absolutely not taking personally. the slight life given to those flowers — and the settling of that need for contact within him, again — isn't enough to excuse that. his fingers curl just the slightest, in silent consideration...

the flowers sure are like yes! yes! yes! and then noooo. because mithos all but slaps that hand away, pulling his own back quickly, burned by the touch and roland's Stupid Words.

that's enough. ]

I'm tired of—

[ oh, the way mithos spills this out and then draws back. the lie of his disconnection to roland's words is coming undone, because of course it would, with roland poking every dead emotion back to life indirectly. with this rehash of every emotion he's felt before. as if it would be different this time, when it didn't matter at all.

he grits his teeth, and forces them down. ]

—Just shut up. I'll never consider it a weakness. The only curse is this place, forcing me to exist alongside this.

[ what is "this"? it's so many things. ]

[duskspear]

["This" could be many things; so can "it." Roland's expression goes slack from the dawning realization of what Mithos has just said.

In the face of such revelation, his hand hardly feels a thing. For Mithos to say all the things he's said—to flee so desperately from heavy-handed reminders of the past thrust at them by the worlds, and to cling to those feelings that Roland would regard as a curse—what sort of life has he led? What pain has he endured that the false memories of their childhood brim with unadulterated joy? More than anything, Roland's heart buzzes in familiar ache.]

. . . I won't say any more.

[He offers his hand, palm upturned.]

But the flowers will wither ere long. My hand is yours, should you choose to take it.

[Even if they don't end up harvesting them, Mithos' intentions are clear enough. At the very least, he should be able to gaze upon the chamomiles for a little longer. But it's fine if he no longer wants that, either.]

[reliance]

[ roland's hand is coated in poison and will kill mithos on contact. that's the look that offer is being given in response, alongside a mental question of why that mithos actively tries not to make show. with how off-guard that actually catches him, he's only partially successful.

the sheer absurdity adds to the ebb and flow of his emotions. why does roland continue to try after mithos made his stance on any attempts so obvious? why does being here keep messing with his perception of things, making that outstretched hand an offer he actually wants to take? why does roland think mithos has any say in this?

in the waves of confusion, yearning, and fatigue, mithos offers the following: ]

You'll say something you shouldn't, again. Eventually.

[ something annoying. something that digs at his one million and one issues. something ignorant. something true. whether it's due to whatever stupid thing settles in their heads that makes them confront that, or whether it's roland's own incessant need to always say and do the worst thing. that's just how they are.

but!

but mithos still comes closer and places his hand in roland's. so, so, so reluctantly. and in case roland starts thinking anything ridiculous, mithos has his vocal jabs as ever present company. even as he focuses very pointedly on the lift of the petals, or the way one of the tumultuous things within him settles; even if it isn't one of the ones he would call his own. ]

Like that. Talking about this like it's a choice. Like I care enough about the flowers to want to...

[ he's not finishing that sentence. he's not vocalizing what's happening. that means acknowledging it's happening, which it's not. he is not perceiving it. ]

[duskspear]

[Yes, he thinks.

Eventually, he'll say something. He knows so little about Mithos that it's an inevitability, albeit one he'll regret when the time comes. There's no denying the accusation flung his way. But he's said and burdened Mithos enough for now, so Roland respects the trailing silence as he rests his other hand over Mithos', cupping it gently, with the hopes of pleasing the blue chamomiles some more.

Whatever Mithos' feelings, he came this far to see the flowers. He doesn't have to justify nor defend anything. Roland will simply kneel in place, pensive and worn gaze also drawn to the plants, until he's as satisfied as he can be amid the turmoil of everything else.]

[reliance]

[ talking is bad. silence is bad too, because that's where thoughts and discomfort thrive. worse still is roland's escalation — another hand resting over mithos' makes him feel both suffocated and satisfied, the latter the result of that foreign pull resting within him.

however unwilling this might be, the flowers respond. more petals lift, and the ones that weren't so attacked and shriveled by their (mithos') inability to get along even begin to glow, dim as their light is.

there's a muted kind of surprise to that. surprised because mithos isn't used to anything blooming from his participation (rather, it's the opposite), and muted due to... ]

... It doesn't matter to anything here.

[ whether things are fake, or real, or wanted. even to the stupid flowers. they're fine with this, awkward and stilted as it is. ]

[duskspear]

[Given what Mithos last said, Roland can make an educated guess as to what that is. Whether it's a gesture born from choice or the absence of, the flowers will gleam. The worlds in which they've been ensnared will carry on. Despite the wonders to arise from those truths, he can understand the inherent sorrow of such a reality.

Roland waits a beat, then another to be sure that the glow won't fade before reaching out with a hand to caress the petals of one flower. Cupped against his palm, the petals seem to glow even brighter against the shadow cast by his hand. His eyes soften, turning his expression wistful.]

Even so, they would celebrate what beauty they can grasp. They're resilient . . . and all the more beautiful for it.

[reliance]

[ ah. roland's hand removed from his own, combined with those words snaps mithos into a fervent need to separate. the light weight of mithos' hand disappears as quickly as he does, with no sound or movement to accompany such an action.

he's hilariously extra. the weakened nature of his magic makes it that he doesn't cover as much distance between them as he would like, but any distance from the thing that made the flowers bloom is enough. their glow is a reminder that makes his skin crawl.

those words from roland are even emptier given what he's shared, but mithos won't let himself sit on that for longer than he needs to. ]

They're just flowers.

[ that's it. there's no deeper meaning to be had there. and yet— ]

But now that they've got what they wanted, they're ready to be harvested and used. Persisting isn't always like that.

[ sentimental. pretty. whatever roland wants to call it. but again, it's nothing so profound or personal. mithos' gaze is almost expectant, trained as it is on roland's hand grasped around that resilient thing. ]

It's what you came for, right?

[duskspear]

[His face goes slack at the sudden absence of Mithos' presence. A retrieved hand is one thing, but a bodily retreat so swift is another. Roland cranes his neck, following Mithos' voice to a short distance away.

Naturally, he's said something unacceptable again. He withdraws his hand, moving it away from the small patch of flowers as he straightens to his full height, unable to fault Mithos for recoiling. After all, Mithos is right: Persisting isn't always beautiful. It's merely a shame, that he would now regard the flowers, too, as something of a cursed reminder—and for someone who seems so young.]

It is. . . . However, they are the flowers that we nurtured together. If your wish is to leave them, I shall honor it.

[reliance]

[ what?

truly, leave it to roland to voice the thing he dislikes most about the situation like it's a positive thing. he actually doesn't expect him to word it like that. nurturing together. implying that mithos would ever wish to leave the proof of something he hates intact.

he doesn't. ]

You don't know anything about my wishes.

[ obviously. but of course roland doesn't, because mithos hasn't shared anything. and he doesn't plan to, except— ]

I hate humans. I hate you. If there was something you thought we nurtured together, I would want it gone.

[ oh. this is fine. this is hinged. even more hinged is the way mithos continues: ]

If you don't pick them, I'll burn them. The thing that made me grab your hand wasn't mine... Everything involving you isn't mine.

[ and that bothers him every time that roland says something that shouldn't hit him, but does. that bothers him every single time he sees him, and remembers something. ]

[duskspear]

[This is hinged.

It's not that Roland doesn't understand. The fact is that he knows nothing about Mithos' wishes; however, if he were to imagine that Gustadolph was standing across him instead, the hatred would be rolling out in roaring waves from his end. No matter how many years pass, those waters will churn. That's why he can't be angry at Mithos.]

. . . I understand. Many of the moments between us haven't strictly been ours. I do not begrudge you for your feelings.

[He turns halfway to regard the flowers, already wilting from the influx of negativity. It's an unbelievably sad sight.]

But these flowers have done naught wrong. Won't you spare them until they're ready again?