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TDM 012: SLINGING IN THE RAIN
| TDM 012: SLINGING IN THE RAIN |
00. Arrival You come out of the water, the Nameless Island's own inherent energy drawing people in. It's like being suspended between realities and abruptly pushed from behind through a rift in dimensions. It may make you sick, or that might be the motion of the ocean, lifting you to the surface and carrying you to shore. Waterlogged and covered in sand, new arrivals will be greeted by robots who welcome them with towels and bracelet devices. The A5 card is already loaded up. If you don’t manage to get away from them quickly enough, they may even usher you toward the Laid Bare Spa, where new arrivals will be offered free massages, a sauna, hairstyling, and their clothing may come up permanently missing. But you will be given a complimentary towel to leave with if needed! Feel free to explore the Island, though there isn’t much to see beyond what arrivals before you have helped to rebuild. Most of the buildings are abandoned and in dire need of repair, and beyond the city lingers a thick fog that obscures much of the wilderness from view. Wander too far into this fog, and you will find yourself mysteriously looping back to where you began, your memories of what you were doing and how you got there erased. With that in mind, it may be wise to stake your claim on a place to live in the now, whether a rundown apartment in the City, a tent on the beach, a bed in the barracks, or your own space at the House of Worship. Your inventory will be found a day later, wrapped up haphazardly and delivered to each person's makeshift home. I. THUNDERBOLTS AND LIGHTNING Erku's new arrivals may not be the only residents left dripping wet. Although the weather on the Island is almost always dreary, clouds begin to multiply and darken over the days before that first arrival, turning ominous shades of purple and blue which may look familiar to Islanders who have been around since Erku's beginnings. Perhaps robots will advise Islanders to fortify their shelters and get ready to accept refugees, and they hope their charges take the warnings to heart! When the rain finally falls, it is a non-stop torrent. Even though the weather is warm, the rain itself chills to the bone. Shacks and beach tents won't stand up to the downpour for long, and the shabby apartments may leak and flood. New arrivals who aren't handy enough to make quick repairs may be forced to take shelter in the homes of current Island residents, or else huddle together in the 12 rooms of the barracks for the full week that rain falls on the Island. Cats, dogs, and little dragons will also be begging Islanders for a warm place to stay! Beware of lightning strikes, too, because the skies rumble with thunder throughout the storm. Buildings and residences are frequently damaged by strikes. They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and that's very true on Erku - Islanders who are struck by the lightning might find themselves temporarily blessed with god-like super strength. Such power might not always be a good thing for those who aren't used to wielding it, so please be careful not to damage your friends or property! Islanders may choose to keep their new powers, but a bingo square can be used to wish them away. II. A TASTE OF ERKU In need of shelter and credits? Then the robots have a task for you! Erku's robot population has taken note of how much Islanders seem to love the humble potato, and they want to contribute! Ready as always to please, the robots have filled the hospital cafeteria with mountains of potatoes in every imaginable variety and color: russet, red, gold, purple, chartreuse, sweet, savory, spicy, and so many more! But wait, there's more: they have provided knives, cutting boards, and peelers too, and are eager to see Islanders work their magic in their open cafeteria kitchen! Robots will monitor every dish produced, as they are eager to improve their food replication repertoire. No worries if you aren't culinarily skilled, however. Islanders will be rewarded in credits for whatever they can contribute, whether it's a gourmet meal or simply a basket of peeled potatoes. Robot-provided potato preparations are also freely available to snack on while you work, though as always, they're liable to be spiked with something to encourage Islanders to get more "friendly" with one another. Of particular note is an invention the 'bots are quite proud of, sure to delight your organic tastebuds: the potato cocktail, which packs quite a punch and - strangely enough - tastes just like a hearty steak dinner? III. NOSTALGIA FOODS Seeking a bit of refuge and some comforting food to warm you up? Signs and flyers are out informing residents of the Straight From Home Special going on right now at the Flashbang diner! Come In For All The House Favorites! For the next few days anyone can walk in and receive a free meal (or two if you’re really nice) from the robot cooks behind the counter! And it just so happens that they know exactly what you want. You will be served a meal of your favorite foods from home just the way you like them. Did you tell them? No. How did they know? Don’t bother asking, they’ll just say that the Cook Always Knows. The robot waitresses will make sure your drinks are topped up and you have everything you need, just like any hometown diner or pub you may have heard of. Eating any of the foods will bring out such nostalgia. Feelings of fondness, sadness, longing, anything when you think about the memories of your past and even of recent events. You won’t be able to stop yourself from sharing those thoughts and feelings with those around you. You’ll want to talk about your life, your opinions on the weather, the sex you just had last night and in great detail. The waitresses are listening and so is everyone else nearby. When you leave the diner you might just have to keep on sharing your thoughts about anything that comes to mind. Walk by someone you think is attractive? You’ll have to tell them. Don’t like someone’s outfit? Definitely have to tell them. Suddenly remembering having sex on the beach? Maybe the person next to you on the trolley won’t mind hearing all about it! The effects of the nostalgia will last for half a day or until the completion of an auspicious act. N A V I G A T I O N |
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He really wanted to do better this time.
There had to have been a reason that he was alive again, memories intact so that he knew the consequences of what he did. Perhaps the gods were giving him another chance. He really didn't wish to fuck up again.
With a gesture, he led them to his rooms. They were furnished sparsely. A long maid uniform hung on the wall and the bedding was ugly blocky IKEA furniture. There was a small table with a vase of fresh-cut peonies on it.
He took off his hat and hung it next to the robes.
"I...I'm not certain. This is all so different. I worry that any of my actions will incur your judgment. I'm not certain that to would be undeserved either." He finally answered.
After a moment he added. "I should probably run you a bath. You must be uncomfortable."
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He scrubbed his face with one hand, sighed behind in it, and said, "I will take you up on that bath if you're offering. If you really do want me to pass some sort of judgement on you, it's going to need to be when I am less drowned."
Dropping his hand away from his face, he gave A-Yao another more-concerned-than-anything-else frown he continued, "Right now, all I know is that this place is inherently cruel, and any kindness is more than deserved. So why do you need, of all people, my judgement?"
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"I don't know. It's odd seeing you again like this." Alive, and acting as he had used to back during the war. "I know the me I am now, I don't work for you anymore. We are of equal standing. I suppose seeing up like this again makes me think of back to that time in the war.
You are right. Palau is a large gilded cage. We are nothing but breeding stock with a dangling carrot to make certain to do what they ask. The sooner we come to these inherent truths, the better."
He looked over to the bathroom.
"Yes allow me to get it ready for you. You may follow me if you wish." with that he moved to the adjoined bathroom and began to run hot water, closing his eyes to remember the temperature that Mingjue used to like his baths.
"Da-ge? Did you have a change of clothes? I have my robes but I'm afraid they'll be much too small for you. I want to take your clothes to wash in the meantime,"
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He watched with overt curiosity as A-Yao started the bath, then at the question, he nodded and began to efficiently strip out of the clothes he'd only just put back on before their flight. Baxia he set next to tub, along with the qiankun pouch he'd found on his belt when he'd swam up to consciousness.
His greater preoccupation, however, was still on the detail dropped about a future he...wasn't sure he was going to get to, now that he'd been dredged up to the island. "Equal standing?" he asked. "You don't mean as sworn brothers."
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He moved his hands slowly, showing where the hot water was and how to stop the tub.
"I probably said more than I had meant to.
By the time I am from, I was the sect leader of the Jin clan and have been for nearly a decade, at least until Jin Zixuan's son Jin Ling comes of age and is ready. Jin Zixuan as well as our cousin Jin Zixun passed after the war in an event that causes another one. My father... well, he dies as he lived I suppose." he won't mention his own hand in these events. Zixuan and Zixun were an accident, his father was most decidedly not. His climb to the throne was a gambit for safety.
"That is what I had meant. But none of that really matters anymore. I have to trust that A-Ling can run the sect now that I am no longer there." He doesn't mention that Jin Ling has no choice since he had died and left a mess.
"It is just a new dynamic, and we will have to adjust I suppose. In the meantime, let's focus on getting you settled."
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And gave him a hundred more questions, his eyebrows rising toward his hairline.
"Congratulations," he said after a moment, settling down into himself a little more firmly. Some of his tension eased from his shoulders and he gave himself a little private nod, having come to a conclusion. "I've decided that I am not going to be surprised by anything. A lot can happen even in a year. Especially during war."
He paused then offered A-Yao a crooked smile. "That and I'm not convinced your real, either. Sorry."
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That was a small price to pay to get clothes done faster he supposed. At the latter comment, he couldn't help the laugh that came from him.
"Honestly, I am having a hard time believing you are real as well, Nie Mingjue." He tucked a strand of hair behind an ear and smiled. "However, how can I convince you of my existence? Should I pinch you?"
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He waved a hand at the bruises on his shoulders and forearms already turning from red to mottled blue from where the robots had retaliated enough that he'd deemed tactical retreat to be wise.
"Pain from things here didn't seem to do anything before, though." He stuck out his arm, reading for pinching. "So maybe pain won't help. But if it doesn't wake me up. I want a better look at you."
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"Alright, it's not as if you'll feel anything with a little pinch from me, you may as well ask Huaisang to pinch you." He took the flesh between forefinger and thumb, pinching him hard.
"That's fine. You...You can look at me as you please." boy did that come out more awkward than he had meant it to.
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He beckoned A-Yao with one hand that he might lay it on his cheek. "Alright. Come here." The awkwardness he ignored, like a man on a mission. He was standing there in just his under trousers, inner robe still in one hand, and unselfconscious about it. Reaching for A-Yao's face, he searched his features, taking in the changes and the lack of them, all the ones he'd noted when A-Yao had first taken off his hat and all the ones he could see now that he was closer.
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There were small signs of age, his cultivation wasn't too high after all. A few small wrinkles under his eyes from a lack of sleep. A little bit by his lips from smiling. His hair was much longer than Meng Yao's was. There was also a sense of him being a bit harder somehow.
At the same time, he couldn't help but study his face as well. It was so much more youthful during the war, he knew that those strong shoulders carried a huge burden as well and he moved as if it didn't affect him.
Fuck was he always that handsome?
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He is having some kind of emotion about that, to see the future in the lines on A-Yao's face. Because Mingjue only had the first brush of the war upon his features and his strong core had taken care of what stamp it would have made upon him in the three-odd months since its declared start. But A-Yao—there was laughter and loss written in his skin, marking off just barely less time than Mingjue had been alive. It was hard to fathom.
"I don't think I could make these changes up," he said, letting his thumb trace A-Yao's cheekbone. "And I recognized you without the hat. Can't be all imaginary if I did that."
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Affection like that was so easy for him. He didn't mind these small touches from his calloused hands. In all truth he loved to be touched, it was something not many afforded him, due to his background. He leaned into the touch on his cheek, his eyes fluttering shut.
"I must be quite the phantom then if your mind had concocted me? Couldn't you have thought of someone happier in that case?
Is the hat really that off-putting to you? It makes me look taller." he said, though he was laughing as well.
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And A-Yao was lovely in his enjoyment of the touch. His closed eyes made Mingjue feel protective, standing as they were by the side of a bath drawn in a way that only drove home the surreality A-Yao spoke of.
So he laughed with A-Yao, another rumble of amusement, and said, "The hat changes your shape. Yes, by making you taller. Just reminds me I'm missing pieces you know all about."
His laughter then quieted and his tone dropped to say, "You're not happy."
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He hadn't meant to admit that, it always seemed that this man had a way to draw out his secrets.
"I'm happy to see you. I'm happy to have a new life again. I..." made countless mistakes and hurt every single person who ever deigned to love me. "Is anyone truly happy?" Was he deflecting?
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"The future I have yet to live is terrible for you." Because it sounded like A-Yao was saying that Fuck Island was an improvement in the happiness area, though there was something in his words Mingjue wasn't quite catching. With a little more determination: "I wouldn't have imagined that for you."
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"Da-ge... I have come to realize a few very nasty truths about the world we're from. No matter how much you rise, nothing can erase the blood one is born with.
The only way to live happily in the cultivation world is to leave it." He was happier on fuck island, even if he had to come across some awful truths here. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
"At least here, no one will act as if my touch is disgusting just because of who my mother is. My mother who had worked so hard to feed me and love me, and was spat on for wanting to survive. She would have been celebrated in a place like this..."
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Because that... "If the cultivation world were not filled with corruption, we would not have had a war—two wars, you said—within years of each other." With the memory of frustration, the bright living of the world he'd been pulled from and that man whose head he'd love to cleave from his shoulders with Baxia, his voice roughened. "Your mother shouldn't come into it. And if I could do more than fight a war and make sure you're in a place to show how clever you are, to put the cultivation world to rights, I would be doing it."
With a heavy breath, he went to pull his hands away, lingering for a moment. The last thing he wanted to do would be to reinforce A-Yao's perceptions of other cultivators thoughts on his bloodline.
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Though upon hearing his words, really listening to him, and knowing his future, he could barely keep the tears from escaping, running down his face. It used to be easier to keep his mask in place, but there were so many things he's faced that made keeping the facade up so hard.
Jin Guangyao looked up at his eyes watery, brows knotted together. "Da-ge, if everyone else in the cultivation world were like you there would be no wars." but even righteous Mingjue had his blindspots, the tendency to black and white thinking he had prescribed to in his later years, he used to be so afraid of him.
But like this, when he was young and so passionate, it was no wonder that he had led the war and so many followed him. You are an irredeemable son of a whore. he had said to him back then, before kicking him down. Guangyao was caught in a snare back then, between his father's wrath and Mingjue's.
It was when he had made the choice to kill him.
It was the wrong choice and he was here now. He was going to do better. He was going to be the kind of person that would be worth Da-ge's regard.
He wanted to touch him, it was greedy but he was inherently a greedy person. But somehow he felt safe now. As his hands fell away, Guangyao wrapped his arms in for a hug around Mingjue's broad torso. I'm so sorry Da-ge.
Nie Mingue was here. He was real. They can make it better.
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Ah. This was...
Mingjue curled down around around him, arm wrapping A-Yao's shoulders. He rested a hand on the back of A-Yao's head to keep him tight to Mingjue's chest in the best damn hug he could offer. He'd never done this with Meng Yao, wouldn't ever have taken advantage of someone that young and vulnerable, nor dreamed to. This A-Yao wasn't young like Meng Yao had been young, and the difference of years and cares and life-lived made him a pleasing weight in Mingjue's embrace. A little pulse of that protective fire in Mingjue's chest made him squeeze A-Yao a little more firmly.
"Hey," he said, stroking A-Yao's hair. What could he say when A-Yao's words were self-evident? "I've decided. You seem real. I'll accept it."
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Melting into the hug, feeling the warm arms around him. This safety is what he had stolen from Huaisang, no wonder the man had plotted his murder for a decade. Never again. He had an agreement with the younger Nie now. They were going to protect their people and make certain they prosper. Guangyao gave Nie Mingjue a tight squeeze. He was going to make certain this man was safe and happy. Both of them. He owed them that.
Resting his head on his chest, he was somehow laughing through his tears. "Glad to know I exist. I was a little worried there." He wiped at his own eyes rewarding the man with a smile.
"Though now I am covered in sand and your sweat. It's not really a becoming look for a sect leader huh?"
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Gruff, he muttered, "You shouldn't worry. It's not your fault that whoever dragged me to this island rang my head like a bell. Or that we're different people from the last time we saw each other."
He smiled back down at A-Yao until the end of his question, when he froze. A fission of...something went down his spine. Because his gut response to whether it was becoming for A-Yao to be covered in sand and (his) sweat was 'yes, actually,' with a side order of possessive. The thought caught him entirely broadside and completely by surprise. He sucked his breath in.
Unsure whether he should be flustered by it or not, he stared for longer than it should have taken to formulate a reply. Because this older Meng Yao was very lovely, handsome and careworn all. He'd already had that notion, had that lovely face in his hands, and with that face upturned with a pretty smile on his lips, he was very forcibly reminded that this person was everything he'd admired in the younger plus no longer his subordinate or too young.
He had no idea what his expression showed—something too open and too focused—but he let out his breath in a slow, measured exhale and blamed Fuck Island for the whole damn train of thought.
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He looked up through thick lashes, gauging the odd look that Mingjue was giving him. He was so incredibly handsome when he was focused like that, with a sheer intensity that few people had. When he was a younger man he was swept by it and then ran from it. As he was now, he could meet it, with both of his feet planted on the ground. He leaned forward, to brush away a bit of sand-encrusted hair from his face.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck. He wanted to kiss him so badly. Had he always admired him so much? He had. There was a time before everything he could do nothing but admire him. Even recently he had told a friend about how the man was a force of nature.
He bit his lower lip, his eyes still fixed on him as intensely. His voice a soft whisper.
"Da-ge..."
His gaze was fixed on that lovely mouth of his.
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Because from the way that A-Yao's gaze was fixed upon his mouth, that was the choice: push forward or pull back. He lingered at the decision-point, basking in the warmth of the man in his arms, and tipped his head when A-Yao brushed at his hair to scatter the sand from it. If Mingjue had been brought to the island at the whim of a god for a purpose he did not approve of, claiming something for himself without obvious interference had its appeal.
Like a kiss.
He didn't get opportunities like this, times where the barriers had been stripped as aggressively as possible. At A-Yao's breathy little 'da-ge,' he shifted his hand on the back of A-Yao's head to cradle it more appropriately so he could lean right down, swift and decisive, and press their lips together.
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Never in his last life or this one had he ever imagined that he would kiss Nie Mingjue. He had in the secret recesses of his mind imagined what it would have been like if things were different. His arms wrapped around the back of his neck, as he stood on the balls of his feet to help make the distance in height.
While he certainly had kissed more in the last month than he had in his entire adult life, this still gave him a breathless heady feeling. His heart pounded in his chest. Even if he was expected to do such things, it really did feel different when it was people he was close to.
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