[hello roomie! rynlan is currently flopped on the lower bunkbed. he's claimed this one, it is his. he has also immediately changed out of the horrible jumpsuit, now dressed in a much more conservative outfit-- it's a nice set of dark grey long-sleeved robes, high-necked, that he's also wearing gloves with. the only exposed skin is his face and ears.]
Well. At least we have space and a little privacy, now.
[ mephisto is also much more covered up now — but not nearly as drab! — in a white suit with a pink polka dot cravat and purple gloves.
on principle, he doesn't love the fact that he's stuck with the leftover choice here... but fortunately, what he's left with is what he would have chosen anyway. he's always considered himself more of a top. ]
It's certainly an improvement... not that that's saying much.
[ he throws his body pillow up onto the top bunk, where it takes up almost the entire bed. ugh. ]
[here we are at the new bar, where things are CURSED. rynlan is already here with a half-finished number nine, seemingly just... chilling. day drinking a little after taking a look around the place, as you do.
he glances up once he realizes he has company, though, watching him in silence for a moment... before he sighs and takes another sip of his drink.]
I wondered if you'd make it out here. The atmosphere seems to suit you, doesn't it?
[ i almost feel like i should be using my icon where he's in bubbles that are colored almost exactly like these balls to emphasize just how much this place suits him, except he's naked in that so i will. not. ]
It does! A perfect match for my light and colorful aesthetic!
[ he picks up one of the iridescent balls and bounces it on a fingertip as he looks at the menu, which at least takes more than one second this time. ]
Ooh, triple the selection too. How's the one you're having?
[ well, that was a mess. but as might be expected at this point, mephisto isn't terribly affected by it, and is presently lounging on his bed while looking back through the evidence pictures they all posted today. ]
[i'm throwing all of these that i start directly into the memory hole. it's easier on me this way. i'm so sorry this is long i live the oc struggle life.
so, from their room, they get unceremoniously dumped somewhere with-- a screen? a screen, for some reason. he squints at it, then jumps back with a start as it turns on, ears flattening when he realizes what it is.]
Shit- no, we have to leave, we need to go. Now.
[while he's desperately looking for a way out, or at least any way to keep his roommate of all people from seeing this, the scene just-- continues to play out.
the landscape here is icy and absolutely freezing, harsh and unforgiving, the howl of the wind overshadowed by the sounds of shouting, growling, of metal clanging against metal and teeth and fangs scraping against armor and flesh. their unit's overtaken by the undead, ambushed by scourge forces, and already three out of the eleven of them are bodies on the ground. they all wear the same uniform tabard bearing a stylized sun; rynlan is in the center of their group along with a taller elf in heavier armor, clinging to a staff while his partner bears a shield, struggling to hold off the swarm.
he looks different, too. not blue at all-- he's pale and blond-haired, with bright, glowing green eyes, the same color as his partner (though another elf here has glowing blue ones.) he's younger, if not by much, definitely healthier, golden sparks flying from his fingertips as the pair of them struggle to keep their unit healed. another staggers to their knees, a shield of light surrounding them as rynlan hurries to her side, the memory providing his internal narration. spreading already-- three distinct diseases. plague. rapid onset of necrosis, no response to cleansing-- fuck. fuck, i can't-- out, get out, damn you, let me fix this, please let me--
'ryn-!' he hears from behind him, as claws dig into his arm, the snarling maw of a ghoul entirely too close. rynlan screams, lacing it with magic on instinct to drive the creature away, its claws tearing free as it goes. his partner's mace comes down on it, and as he sees a geist slam into the paladin from the side, he realizes they're truly overrun. there's no defense, anymore, there's just each of them against the undead attacking them, too many for him to even focus on healing at all. 'move,' he manages, his voice hoarse, and the other elf understands.
he snaps the vial around their fallen companion's neck and hurriedly steps back as the body is consumed in blinding, holy flame, all of the dead around them hissing as it burns their eyes. in seconds, the body is nothing but ash. nothing left to stagger to its feet again, mindless. at least he can keep her from that fate.
he can't keep the two of them from theirs, though. there are too many, and they're both healers-- he sees the other elf glance back at him as he staggers, his own arms almost too heavy with exhaustion to hold his staff. the dead mob his partner all too easily, and he screams in outrage-- but this time they don't go anywhere. he just doesn't have anything left, eyes wide with panic at the realization.
'i'll hold them off you,' his partner mutters, determined. 'shut up-- get them off yourself!'
he doesn't listen.
the rest is a blur, for him, even the memory on the screen fuzzy and unclear from there, but the last thing rynlan remembers of him is seeing him flash a quick, reassuring smile before snapping the vial around his neck. he remembers thinking no no no don't you dare don't you fucking dare do this-
the last thing he remembers before teeth and claws sink into his leg, his back and arms, anywhere they can reach, body curled in on himself in a desperate attempt at protection, is hearing a gut-wrenching scream in his own voice.
the actual rynlan, in the present, is more or less plastered against the wall opposite it and just about vibrating with pure discomfort.]
[ mephisto looks at him with curious amusement over his apparent desperation to keep him from seeing this... and then looks back to the screen and settles in to see how things play out.
...
there is, perhaps predictably, no real reaction from mephisto to anything he's watching — certainly no empathy. just politely subdued amusement.
when it's finally over his eyes scan the room until he sees rynlan against that wall, and he leans over the back of his seat to face him, pretending not to notice what a mess he appears to be at the moment. ]
Well, that was certainly dramatic! A nice look on you, too, though I'm partial to the current one.
[ coming back to the room late in the evening... the good news is the static is gone and his poodle puff is back to its usual single curl, if slightly less smooth than it used to be. ]
[ did they come here together on purpose or is this a chance meeting? either way, when mephisto opens the door to home biome they will find themselves....
...in front of a fountain in the center of a courtyard, surrounded by a ridiculously huge gold and teal mansion.
it's hard to see just how high up they are from here, and unfortunately they'll hit a wall if they start getting close to the edge of the property to try to look — no one wanted to paint all that background scenery, probably — but there's a simulated breeze that still kind of gives it that feeling.
mephisto takes a few steps forward, shielding his eyes as he looks all the way up to the top turrets. ]
[looks at bicker threads. i think this was on purpose.
he pauses as they step in, though, stifling a little gasp-- this is enormous. more akin to where royalty might live than anything, by fantasy standards.]
[hewwo. i'm decreeing home biome for this one because rynlan is hanging around here this morning; it's a fancy room, where he's sitting on the edge of one of the beds.]
-morning.
[just giving him a tired nod, there. local elf looks like he needs another few hours to nap later.]
[ well, uh, sometime after that whole... display with ryo and itto, mephisto's back in the room, up in his bunk eating chips and staring sadly at a ryo plushie from the gift shop that he has sitting in front of him. ]
he looks kind of like he wants to die when he hobbles back in. his leg is still fucking injured and his boyband au did not account for this, he's still wearing the outfit (still damp).]
I hate this place, I really do-- if my actual clothes aren't back here I'm going to scream.
[ well, that didn't last long! mephisto is hanging out at the new bar, messing around with settings on his new phone as he sips what's probably his third liquid gold of the day — which as far as he can tell is another one of those wonderful rare drinks that doesn't have any effect at all!
(it does. he's just always rich and unrelatable so absolutely nothing is changing.) ]
[good morning he's here tagging along... and since touch week comes for our lives once more, he's floating just high enough to be able to rest his chin on mephisto's shoulder to look over it.]
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w0 sunday
Well. At least we have space and a little privacy, now.
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on principle, he doesn't love the fact that he's stuck with the leftover choice here... but fortunately, what he's left with is what he would have chosen anyway. he's always considered himself more of a top. ]
It's certainly an improvement... not that that's saying much.
[ he throws his body pillow up onto the top bunk, where it takes up almost the entire bed. ugh. ]
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w0 wednesday night
he's flopped sideways over it so his legs are still on the ground, but that's perfectly fine and normal.]
Who decided we needed stairs.
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An architect, I assume!
[ he comes to lean over him, the usual amused smile on his face. ]
Is this why you wanted the bottom bunk? A disdain for steps?
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week 0, post-trial
Well, that's one way to fill a day.
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[the part of his hair that's actually hair is still damp from showering, and he's draped on the bed as usual with his notebook.
oh yes and i forgot his hair tendrils are just in a constant state of wiggly agitation.]
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w1, monday
he glances up once he realizes he has company, though, watching him in silence for a moment... before he sighs and takes another sip of his drink.]
I wondered if you'd make it out here. The atmosphere seems to suit you, doesn't it?
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It does! A perfect match for my light and colorful aesthetic!
[ he picks up one of the iridescent balls and bounces it on a fingertip as he looks at the menu, which at least takes more than one second this time. ]
Ooh, triple the selection too. How's the one you're having?
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1/2
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w2, monday
he's just sort of... wandering, though, squinting at various paths like he's trying to figure out where they go.]
I thought I came in that way...
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My, with a sense of direction like this, I'd love to see you challenge that corn maze.
[ there's a little bit of a head tilt at the cat, but for the moment he doesn't mention it. ]
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week 2, tuesday night
as soon as he enters the room: ]
So~? Who was it?
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but, hmm. somehow he's just lacking in the 'how dare you ask me this' kneejerk reaction. this is a reasonable question to ask?]
You know it doesn't mean anything, don't you-- the test I did before it didn't prove anything.
['more persuasive' isn't enough for him to spill instantly, but it's plenty to keep him from shutting it down.]
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week 2, friday
...and mephisto is just up in his bed playing a game on his phone from home. ]
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-what is that noise?
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week 2, post-trial
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he's not surprised his roommate is unaffected, but he's laying here facedown on his bunk. as you do.]
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w2 sunday
rynlan is still around just after execution! he's out here on the dock with a drink, looking out over the lava, vibing. chilling. normal behavior.]
Oh, there you are. Heading back?
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Mm, probably. There's not that much left to do once the show's over. You?
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w3 monday
so, from their room, they get unceremoniously dumped somewhere with-- a screen? a screen, for some reason. he squints at it, then jumps back with a start as it turns on, ears flattening when he realizes what it is.]
Shit- no, we have to leave, we need to go. Now.
[while he's desperately looking for a way out, or at least any way to keep his roommate of all people from seeing this, the scene just-- continues to play out.
the landscape here is icy and absolutely freezing, harsh and unforgiving, the howl of the wind overshadowed by the sounds of shouting, growling, of metal clanging against metal and teeth and fangs scraping against armor and flesh. their unit's overtaken by the undead, ambushed by scourge forces, and already three out of the eleven of them are bodies on the ground. they all wear the same uniform tabard bearing a stylized sun; rynlan is in the center of their group along with a taller elf in heavier armor, clinging to a staff while his partner bears a shield, struggling to hold off the swarm.
he looks different, too. not blue at all-- he's pale and blond-haired, with bright, glowing green eyes, the same color as his partner (though another elf here has glowing blue ones.) he's younger, if not by much, definitely healthier, golden sparks flying from his fingertips as the pair of them struggle to keep their unit healed. another staggers to their knees, a shield of light surrounding them as rynlan hurries to her side, the memory providing his internal narration. spreading already-- three distinct diseases. plague. rapid onset of necrosis, no response to cleansing-- fuck. fuck, i can't-- out, get out, damn you, let me fix this, please let me--
'ryn-!' he hears from behind him, as claws dig into his arm, the snarling maw of a ghoul entirely too close. rynlan screams, lacing it with magic on instinct to drive the creature away, its claws tearing free as it goes. his partner's mace comes down on it, and as he sees a geist slam into the paladin from the side, he realizes they're truly overrun. there's no defense, anymore, there's just each of them against the undead attacking them, too many for him to even focus on healing at all. 'move,' he manages, his voice hoarse, and the other elf understands.
he snaps the vial around their fallen companion's neck and hurriedly steps back as the body is consumed in blinding, holy flame, all of the dead around them hissing as it burns their eyes. in seconds, the body is nothing but ash. nothing left to stagger to its feet again, mindless. at least he can keep her from that fate.
he can't keep the two of them from theirs, though. there are too many, and they're both healers-- he sees the other elf glance back at him as he staggers, his own arms almost too heavy with exhaustion to hold his staff. the dead mob his partner all too easily, and he screams in outrage-- but this time they don't go anywhere. he just doesn't have anything left, eyes wide with panic at the realization.
'i'll hold them off you,' his partner mutters, determined.
'shut up-- get them off yourself!'
he doesn't listen.
the rest is a blur, for him, even the memory on the screen fuzzy and unclear from there, but the last thing rynlan remembers of him is seeing him flash a quick, reassuring smile before snapping the vial around his neck. he remembers thinking no no no don't you dare don't you fucking dare do this-
the last thing he remembers before teeth and claws sink into his leg, his back and arms, anywhere they can reach, body curled in on himself in a desperate attempt at protection, is hearing a gut-wrenching scream in his own voice.
the actual rynlan, in the present, is more or less plastered against the wall opposite it and just about vibrating with pure discomfort.]
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...
there is, perhaps predictably, no real reaction from mephisto to anything he's watching — certainly no empathy. just politely subdued amusement.
when it's finally over his eyes scan the room until he sees rynlan against that wall, and he leans over the back of his seat to face him, pretending not to notice what a mess he appears to be at the moment. ]
Well, that was certainly dramatic! A nice look on you, too, though I'm partial to the current one.
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w3 thursday shakes you but gently
anyway hello binch he wants to talk. it can be somewhere else but otherwise it's just in their room.]
What happened to you.
[despite his best efforts he probably looks a little concerned. gross.]
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What, you didn't hear the little summary I gave Date?
[ sighs and goes to grab one of his stolen onsen yukatas from the closet. where their mirror still is. ]
It was just offensively ridiculous.
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week 3, post-trial
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also he kinda smells like weed.]
Similar to last week, sounds like.
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week 4, monday
I feel like wearing white may have been a mistake.
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[your Aesthetic. maybe don't wear white in murder hell. he's just heading for the bar, though, looking at a menu...]
It doesn't look like there's anything here to actually make these.
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week 4, friday
(except for his pillow, which he tosses up onto his bunk.) ]
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...traveling around with that now, are you?
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w4 saturday
Never thought bleeding purple would be a problem here.
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Honestly, what are the odds of that?
It actually did taste a little like your blood.
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week 5, monday
...in front of a fountain in the center of a courtyard, surrounded by a ridiculously huge gold and teal mansion.
it's hard to see just how high up they are from here, and unfortunately they'll hit a wall if they start getting close to the edge of the property to try to look — no one wanted to paint all that background scenery, probably — but there's a simulated breeze that still kind of gives it that feeling.
mephisto takes a few steps forward, shielding his eyes as he looks all the way up to the top turrets. ]
Ah, they weren't kidding!
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he pauses as they step in, though, stifling a little gasp-- this is enormous. more akin to where royalty might live than anything, by fantasy standards.]
This is-- you know this place?
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w5 friday
-morning.
[just giving him a tired nod, there. local elf looks like he needs another few hours to nap later.]
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also a unicorn kigu and his gaming shit. ]
Ah. Did you spend the night in here?
[ looks around and nods approvingly ]
It's got a nice vibe! The jewel-tone colors really do something for the mood.
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week 5, post-trial
mephisto comes back to the room in the evening and drops his koala's march packaging in the trash with all his other old snack wrappers. ]
...That could have gone better.
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[he's exhausted, so much happened that he hates today]
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week 6, monday
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he comes back to the room, stepping inside and peering worriedly up at the bunk.]
...Mephisto? Are you all right?
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week 6, thursday
there's a rynlan plushie on his desk now with the others. his gift to you. ]
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he looks kind of like he wants to die when he hobbles back in. his leg is still fucking injured and his boyband au did not account for this, he's still wearing the outfit (still damp).]
I hate this place, I really do-- if my actual clothes aren't back here I'm going to scream.
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week 7, monday
(it does. he's just always rich and unrelatable so absolutely nothing is changing.) ]
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anyway, ryn takes a seat nearby, still wreathed in a shadowy aura and floating an inch or two over the seat. he could sit normally, but will he? no.]
Well. Been having a good time over here?
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week 7, friday
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[good morning he's here tagging along... and since touch week comes for our lives once more, he's floating just high enough to be able to rest his chin on mephisto's shoulder to look over it.]
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