april event, phase one: seeds of unrest 🌱

[beleos]

THE BEGINNING

Summertime in Springstar has been on its way out, heralding the arrival of fall; winter has likewise given way to spring in Highstorm - at least, according to the calendar. Yet there is an unseasonable bite on the breeze - one growing as frigid as the mood among Meris and Zenites in their cities. Between Alenroux’s occupation and talk of ‘the Blight,’ worries have been on the lips of the citizens with increasing frequency - and with good reason. The reports of plant life dying, of objects crumbling, of people whose bodies are deteriorating are dominating the rumor mills and local papers.

Everything comes to a head early in the second half of Pelu.

After an unusual pocket of commotion in the Seat of the Tribune and the courtyard of Yima’s manor, an urgent announcement is made on behalf of both cities: both Great Trees have been quarantined, and no one is permitted in either location without clearance. New rumors spread of an ‘incident’ that saw those in the immediate vicinity of the Trees rapidly demonstrating symptoms of an illness that was becoming all too easy to identify. It had stricken with frightening speed; not long afterward…

The unrest had spread into the streets, and it wasn’t just about the Blight anymore.

Cetina and Kathova wasted no time in reaching out to the Bearers via Communion to offer them guidance from their leaders and incite them to action.

SPRINGSTAR: THE ROOT OF THE ISSUE

Day by day, changes unfold that render the city increasingly dangerous...

ROOTS:

Vine-like roots have begun to thread the streets, creeping upon and over buildings, spreading outward from the Tree in Heliopolis. Over the next two weeks, they will continue to grow in size and become more troublesome, slowly blooming ice-like leaves that radiate a sickly glow.

• GROWTH: Contrary to the Blight’s normal behaviors, some people and things around clusters of vines or leaves can experience a burst of vitality, growth, and splendor as if transforming to beyond peak condition. In a normal citizen, this may result in an almost manic level of energy, reckless behaviors, and aggression. In objects, they become more durable and efficient, but dangerously so - for example, a stovetop cooks faster but burns uncontrollably hot. In plant life, this results in overgrowth that can overwhelm and choke nearby flora, objects, or even people. Then, they burn out an hour after exposure and immediately succumb to a dire state of Blighted.


• CHILL: The temperatures will continue to drop throughout the next two weeks. It will be coldest where vines have clustered and outright dangerously so near where flowers have budded or bloomed in great numbers. This will force some people from their homes.

TIME POCKETS:

In seemingly random parts of the city, areas referred to as ‘time pockets’ have populated. There is no way to identify a time pocket but to stumble into one.

• REGRESSION: NPC’s in these areas will appear to freeze in time once a Bearer has breached the pocket’s radius but appear normal from the outside. Time within has halted at the point the pocket manifested ( typically covering an area like a city street or inside a single large building that sees regular use ). Objects can be freely manipulated but will not fall if thrown, etc.
  • The pocket cannot be left until the Bearer has achieved their objective. Attempting to exit the way they entered, they’ll run into an unseen barrier that is painful to the touch, a sensation of frigidity that travels to their Shard.
  • Their goal will be to locate a past version of themselves hidden from immediate view. This past version of themselves can be from any point in their lives but must be from a moment when they felt extremely vulnerable, isolated, wounded, or fearful.
  • Once finding this past version, they will feel the compulsion to either find a way to reassure their past selves somehow or kill them. Whether it is the Bearer themselves who performs these acts or another Bearer in their company does it for them, as long as their past selves are pacified enough ( to player satisfaction ) or dead, they will gain immunity to the pocket and may leave. The immediate area will remain frozen, however, and the past version will be revealed to be made of roots that will shrivel and die.
  • Note: Bearers will be able to see other Bearer’s past selves, even after they have been freed. Whether the past reflections are capable of speech while functional is up to player discretion.

HIGHSTORM: THE ROOTS OF CHANGE

The snows continue to fall over the city, feeling brittle against your skin...

ROOTS:

Vine-like roots have begun to thread the streets, creeping upon and over buildings, spreading outward from the Great Tree in Yima’s manor. Over the next two weeks, they will continue to grow in size and become more troublesome, slowly blooming ice-like leaves that radiate a sickly glow.

• SACRIFICIAL: [ CW: self-harm ] Where the roots snake and gather throughout the city, NPC’s in several locations are falling victim to the quiet, slow pulse of the flowers and their buds. They will sit and stare at the flowers for hours, unblinkingly, as their body begins to succumb to the Blight. If they are disturbed in any way - a loud noise, an attempt to move their person, etc - they will calmly look up from their worship and crack off a piece of their brittle body before returning to their reverie.
• In order to save them, a pair (or more) of Bearers must sneak up on the NPC - one using a pacifying spell given by one of the faction leaders while the other crushes the flower. If the NPC is not pacified before the flower is crushed, they will become hysterical and the Blight will rapidly consume them, causing them to perish. If they are pacified and the flower is not crushed, the spell will wear off within ten seconds with the same result.

• CHILL: The temperatures will continue to drop throughout the next two weeks. It will be coldest where vines have clustered and outright dangerously so near where flowers have budded or bloomed in great numbers. This will force some people from their homes.

TIME POCKETS:

In seemingly random parts of the city, areas referred to as ‘time pockets’ have populated. There is no way to identify a time pocket but to stumble into one.

• REFLECTIONS: NPC’s in these pockets are moving in surreal blurs, pieces of them moving forward as others move backward, some changing as if time were rapidly passing as others remain frozen still. The Bearers’ surroundings are distorted as if reflecting multiple realities simultaneously.
  • Their goal will be to locate a tall standing mirror situated alone in the center of the time pocket’s radius. The Bearer who first touches their reflection ( henceforth called “mirror-Bearer” ) will cause the world inside the pocket to suddenly stop, reflecting a comforting environment they have fond or pleasant associations with. The mirror will be gone.
• Something or someone the mirror-Bearer highly values, deeply misses, or sees as imperative to their character, goals, or desires will be present. If they make contact with this object or person, the Time Pocket loops and sends them back to searching for the mirror - but they will have no memory of this occurring. Their partner, however, will recall everything.
• Both Bearers will be released if five loops occur without the mirror-Bearer being stopped from causing the loop or if the mirror-Bearer is stopped from reaching their goal for five minutes ( willingly or otherwise ). The longer they refuse to make contact with this object or person, the more tempting and dire the need becomes inside of them.
• Once the Bearers are released, the Time Pocket disappears. If they manage to avoid contact with the temptation inside the Pocket, the roots and flowers in this area will be withered and dying, buying the NPC’s and buildings in this location some time. Otherwise, they will be thriving and dangerously blooming.
• Note: the mirror will not respond to the non-mirror-Bearer once it has been touched the first time.

ENTREE-TING HELP

The Tree of Life is in danger, and you know it. Both Yima and Cyrus have directed all Bearers who might listen to increase visitation to the Tree and monitor it for signs of the Blight - of its leaves changing color, of any frostbitten bark, of its roots withering.

And then, during a moment in which you find your mind at ease, at rest... you dream, even if dreaming is unnatural for you. You dream of yourself sitting beneath the massive bows of the Tree's breadth, at peace. The perpetual dawn's glow warms your skin in a way that seeps into your bones, leaving you certain you are safe from harm. The Tree reaches out, and though it cannot speak to you in words, you feel it is trying to convey a message: one of urgency. One of plea.

But you cannot understand...

Soon, the branches of the Tree are reaching out to others. You cannot see them, but you know they're there; a spiritual tether connects your Shards together, bringing you all into a place of wordless unity. And once your fellows have been summoned, you know what you are here for.

You feel it rather than see it: some meager, barely-there brush of something cold in the warmth of the island's comfort. The Tree is already infected, and the clock is running down for all of you.

When you wake to yourself, a feeling of dread not entirely your own will chase you, and you will find a single violet leaf in your hand.

MISC NOTES

• Bearers start with immunity to the Blight. They will not succumb to the effects of the Blight even if they handle the vines and flowers directly without precautions or care.
• The above effects will occur in small clusters and are not yet spread city-wide during phase one. The escalation of frequency characters will come across problematic clusters or Time Pockets will be slow building.
• For context, it takes about a month from infection to death or dissolution for the average person or object to succumb to the Blight. By the 21st, it will be three days to a week.
• Bearers will be directed by Cetina or Kathova to make efforts to protect the civilians and investigate the manifesting changes around both cities. Both factions are working on their own methods to attempt to counteract the Blight, but neither has produced a failsafe solution.
• The roots will remain mostly outdoors, for the most part, these first two weeks.
• Tensions will slowly ramp up in Alenroux, and there are checkpoints for any non-PC visitors to screen for signs of infection.
• Player characters who die inside the Time Pockets are dead and need their Shards brought to the Tree of Life for revival.
• HAVE FUN!! ♥

CODING

Comments

[epiprocta]

Eustace.

[ Gen, of course, looks up with a start when he emerges from that alleyway -- mace already in hand, because he'd gone on-guard the moment he'd spotted those civilians eerily frozen in position like living statues. Thankfully he's not yet jumpy enough to go in swinging from the get-go, and he gives a low exhale of relief when he realizes it's just Eustace and his ugly dog that greet him as he emerges from the alleyway. ]

... are you walking your dog at a time like this? [ His tone of voice is incredulous, but Gen does still slide his mace back into its holster at his belt, absently giving Raisin (Actual Name Pending) a pet on the head as he looks from Eustace, to their surroundings, then back. ] Well ... not like we can just drop everything the moment things go to shit here, I guess, or else it'd be impossible to survive.

[ Not with how often they're forced to deal with some bullshit or another.

Gen frowns as he jerks his head back towards the way he'd came (hand still scritching away at the spot between the dog's ears). ]

D'you know what's going on here? I felt something was off and tried to leave, but there was some -- invisible wall or something. Felt like shit running into it, and doesn't seem like the sort of thing that can just be broken. And ... I thought I heard someone else around here.

[lockedon]

[ All aboard the Bullshit Express, final stop to be determined (but unlikely to be any time soon).

Raisin, mollified at the return greeting and the bonus additional head scritches, lets his tongue roll out of his mouth, disgusting globs of drool dripping onto the ground; Eustace stays where he is, mouth pulled down in an unhappy frown as his gaze, currently on Gen, drifts back to the center of the eerie dead zone they've found themselves in. ]

No. It must have something to do with the Blight though.

[ Unless there are two catastrophic events happening at once. Possible, but not ideal, even if he's forced to accept the possibility as one of many. (Though he recalls what Byleth had said to him about the time stream, the barest of details he hadn't had a chance to follow up on. A mistake, because there's clearly something wonky going on with the time around them now, freezing but also accelerating depending on the location he finds himself in.)

Less catastrophic but no less concerning is the mention of another person trapped in here with them, someone unaffected by the pause of time around them. Eustace swings his head back, the creases between his brows deepening. ]

Where did you hear the other person? [ If they're able to move, able to make noise, then maybe— ] They might know something about all this. A way to get out.

[ It's as good as a lead as any to follow while they're all stuck in here. ]

[epiprocta]

[ God, Eustace's dog is so gross (affectionate). Somewhere at the very back of his mind, Gen makes a mental note to himself that, once this round of bullshit is over, he should tell Raisin just how ugly it is a few times while feeding it a tasty snack.

But that's for later. For now, there's more important matters at hand. ]

That way ... I think.

[ Gen straightens up (unfortunately pulling his hand away from Raisin's delightfully wrinkled noggin) and tilts his head back towards the alleyway he'd come from. His brow furrows as he squints down the narrow passageway, one pointy canine ear flicking and swiveling as he tries to better pinpoint any further sounds. ]

I heard you guys, too. And you were louder, which is why I came this way first -- it almost sounded like whoever this is was moving more quietly. [ Probably. That's got to be why the low scuff of footsteps he'd heard had been so light, right? It can't be something ludicrous, like those footsteps actually belonging to a child, right? ] ... c'mon.

[ Like hell he's going to let whoever this is get the jump on them, if it really is someone sneaking around for whatever reason. His tail lashes tensely behind him as Gen turns around to start leading the way back down the alleyway towards the muffled sounds of footsteps and ... sniffling? It sounds like sniffling. ]

[lockedon]

[ The three dogs (only one actual dog and the other two dogmen) mosey their way towards the alleyway, two sets of dog ears upright and alert while the third continues to hang towards the ground.

Without the extra context clues Gen has, Eustace can only assume there are other reasons for this mystery person to want to remain quiet. Fear of whatever's happening around them, an investment in shady dealings that they'd rather keep a secret. A number of viable explanations fill his mind, though none of them stop him from pressing forward, one hand hovering near the handle of his knife while the other curls into a loose fist by his side.

It's not long before he too picks up on sound of quiet footsteps shuffling across the street, though it's the sniffling that sends a ripple of unease down his spine. Too high pitched to be an adult, but there couldn't be a child trapped in here with them, could there? A brief vision of the child he'd bumped into weeks ago fills his mind, and his feet pick up their pace, until he's nearly even with Gen instead of obediently following behind.

They don't have to walk far to reach their target, their approach apparently enough to attract the attention of whoever it is nearby, a small figure skittering out from a nearby doorway, face streaked with tears. The child's hardly dressed for the warm weather, in thick wools and a scarf, but more jarring are all the familiar features - big dark ears, white hair, even the trademark fall of bangs over one side of his face. It feels like he's been punched in the gut, all the air instantly knocked out out of him as Eustace goes still, eyes wide and disbelieving as he stares at.....himself. A younger version of himself admittedly, but the child he used to be.

His throat closes instantly, anything he could have said trapped and unable to escape. But that's fine, because younger him is all too happy to fill the silence. ]

Please, you have to help me...!

[epiprocta]

[ Truth be told, his first instinct is to lash out. Of course it is. He's dealt with too much bullshit since getting ripped out of his homeworld to just let some unidentified shadow get close to him without responding -- Gen's hand immediately drops to his mace as he falls back a half-step, ears canted back tensely as he bares steels himself for some sort of conflict. Except --

it's a child.

And not just any child. ]

-- ... [ A startled noise catches at the back of his throat when he spots that oddly-familiar hairstyle and those distinctly fluffy ears. By reflex more than by choice, Gen looks from the child, to Eustace, then back again, his own ears flattening back further in confusion. And even when the child cuts through the silence with that distressed cry, there's a moment's delay before he manages to spit out, ] -- the hell's going on.

[ He's not sure if he's directing that question towards Eustace, or that younger version of him.

Regardless, he automatically shifts to place himself between Eustace and the kid, because -- whatever this thing is, whether it's some shared hallucination or a monster masquerading as Eustace -- it's got to be aiming to fuck with Eustace, right? That's why it's taken this form? The thought makes anger flare hot in the pit of his stomach, and Gen stares the child down, ignoring the way those tear-filled eyes make his lungs squeeze just a little tighter. ]

What're you talking about. What d'you want.

[lockedon]

[ Wouldn't it be nice if Eustace knew.

But the baffled expression on his face, eyes wide and brows pulled down, is answer enough that unfortunately, he has no idea what the hell is going on. If he had a tail it would be swishing back and forth behind him in erratic, anxious movements, but all he has are his ears, upright in alarm on his head, and his hands, curled into fists at his side.

Should he say it's him in front of them both? Does he need to say it? Gen has eyes and he's sharper than most people give him credit for, and it's not as though all the identifying features reflected in this kid in front of them doesn't paint a very clear picture of just who he's supposed to be. But he also has eyes, and he doesn't miss the way Gen steps in front of him, partially masking the smaller figure from view. His lungs still feel like they're straining for air as he stares at what little he can still see. Flitting through his head are any number of emotions: shock, unease, a low-level anger, a sudden surge of guilt....all of them obvious to anyone else of the same Aspect nearby.

The younger version of him doesn't seem to suffer from any similiar hesitation, unpausing in his quick movements as he darts over to Gen and tugs and one sleeve. ]

I can't—I can't find Mom or Dad or anyone else. They have to be okay—you have to help me look—!

[epiprocta]

[ That bratty little version of Eustace grabs at his arm, and Gen's kneejerk reflex is to yank it away; he doesn't often let people touch him without facing repercussions, and he also doesn't really like dealing with kids. That immediate revulsion is obvious in the way his shoulders stiffen, and Gen's ears flatten back as he shoots the child a tense look.

But notably, he reluctantly remains where he is, permitting those tugs at his sleeves.

His tail lashes nervously behind him, but Gen is only silent for a moment before gritting his teeth and responding, ]

-- fine. Lead the way.

[ The reason for his acquiescence is made obvious the next moment when he shoots a sideways glance back at Eustace. Their Aspect-borne connection immediately lights up with alarm, anxiety and, most of all, concern. Gen's quick to try and stifle it the next moment, but it's clear that his main concern is Eustace -- because surely, a ploy like this is meant to fuck with Eustace the most, right? And somehow, the thought of just letting that play out makes his blood boil. ]

Hey. [ His boots scuff against the pavement as he starts letting that child tug him along. ] Watch my back. In case something happens.

[ 'But leave this to me,' goes the unspoken insinuation. ]

[lockedon]

[ All he can do is nod silently as he follows along, flinching once again as the child - him - continues to speak in wavering, anxious tones, small feet darting ahead as he criss-crosses obstacles on the ground only he can see. ]

I can't find anyone....It didn't—It wasn't like this before. [ Before? ] Our house, it's supposed to be right there...

[ But there's no need for him to describe the landscape around them, not when Eustace still remembers every scene from that day, brief flashes of memory resurfacing in his mind before he can quell them entirely. (How could he forget, when he's relived it in his own mind hundreds to thousands of times?) Gen gets them too whether he wants them or not, thanks to their shared Aspect amplifying the emotions and thoughts between them. Snow-covered ground, stained with blood. Ugly severed body parts that, when pieced together, still don't form a coherent whole. Charred wooden posts and scraps of metal that had once been whole houses, though what little remains behind barely gives that impression.

All the while, their small guide babbles to himself, panic wrapping tightly around every word. ]

They have to be okay, please let them be okay...

[epiprocta]

[ He'll never truly get used to that -- to having another person's emotions and memories flickering through his mind, lighting up the inside of his eyelids like movie projections. Especially when they're this vivid. Gen flinches as his field of vision goes almost white, a blindingly bright blanket of snow colored only with lurid splatters of blood; the colors are so stark he can almost smell the gore. That too-familiar copper tang plays at the tip of his tongue, and he can't tell if it's coming through from Eustace, or if it's his own mind conjuring sensations to match what he's seeing.

His footsteps stumble for a moment as he lets that smaller version of Eustace lead him along, his ears flattening back so far they almost vanish into his hair, and there's the audible grit of his teeth for a moment before he abruptly snaps, ]

Calm down.

[ He aims it at the child yanking at his sleeve, he thinks. But maybe it's also directed at Eustace, a little bit. ]

Freaking out isn't gonna get anything done.

[ Vaguely, he remembers snapping something like this to Chako in his youth, after beating her bullies senseless. And it's not like he's ever been good at comforting people; it's not like he has any interest in babying people who are too weak to contain their distress. But ... it doesn't feel right to just let things spiral like this, either. -- it's hard moving with this kid freaking out, is what he tells himself. It's the only reason he lowers his stance a little to bring himself closer to the younger Eustace's eye level.

Gen gives a hoarse exhale before lowering his voice, trying to flatten out the anger, even if the sight of blood on the snow still has his nerves prickling. ]

Take a deep breath. I'm doing as you asked [ I'm here for you ], so. Calm down.

[lockedon]

[ Easier said than done, to calm down, though at least Eustace (the older) takes the blunt advice in stride, blinking once before reining the rest of his wayward emotions back in. No more stark, grotesque images overlaid onto the sunny (but silent) streets of Springstar. No more confusion or apprehension, only a thin tendril of gratitude stretched out towards Gen, for taking the lead despite his own misgivings.

It's harder for Eustace (the younger) to grab hold of his composure, youth and inexperience both holding him back, but he does his best regardless, though mostly out of fear of the sharp tone rather than any urge to people please. ]

I—okay.

[ His voice is painfully small, quiet but not in any self-assured way. It's a low volume born out of fear, any loudness strangled out by a panic that he tries so very hard to stifle as he's told. His shoulders shake a little less after a few seconds, at least, steps slowing as his breathing evens out a smidge, thanks to a few large gulps of air. ]

S-sorry. You're right.

[ How often does Gen get to hear that said to him on a regular basis? ]

I just...what if they're also [ gone ] hurt?

[epiprocta]

[ The answer is, like, never. In fact, hearing 'you're right' is so jarring that that, more than the easing off of Eustace's memories through their Aspect-borne connection, is what helps ground him better in reality. ... this situation really is fucked, for him to be the one having to say something reasonable.

And while the younger Eustace is clearly still upset, that's fine. Even he's not so unreasonable so as to expect a traumatized and panicked child to calm down completely on command. ]

Well done. [ That praise comes quiet and brusque, but the fact that it's offered at all is a sign that he's trying. ] Just keep leading the way.

[ As for the question of what's happened to Eustace's family ... ]

... they might be fine. [ -- no. It's all he can think to say at first, but even knows how hollow it sounds. That much blood doesn't come from nowhere. People are -- were dead. Gen swallows thickly before trying again. ] Don't make assumptions.

[ That's not much better, and he knows it. His tail gives an anxious flick behind him before Gen asks, haltingly: ] -- who are we looking for. Is it just your parents?

[ Maybe Eustace had some other family away from whatever's happened here? Maybe there's someone else he can point this version of Eustace towards. Maybe that's the answer? There had to have been someone that Eustace could look to at this age, right? ]

[lockedon]

[ Even though this isn't anything he hasn't done before - keep quiet and bring up the rear - there's something deeply unsettling the way this whole situation is unfolding, and not just from the fact that some strange version of him is leading the way through the streets of sunny Springstar.

If he's honest, he has to admit that most of it stems from watching Gen trying his best to modulate his usual rude behavior, putting on a kinder expression and sanding down the rougher edges of his voice. He hadn't really expected Gen to have much of a soft spot for kids, even if there seems to be one for animals judging from the way he acts around Raisin. (But like, who wouldn't? Dogs are obviously the world's most perfect animal?) It's surprising, but not unpleasant.

His efforts don't go to waste, the target of his stilted reassurances looking less on the verge of tears and back into the realm of simply Upset. ]

Um, my brother and sisters too. They were all home when I left. [ The reminder has him wincing, shoulders hunching inwards again, the threat of tears making itself known again in his voice. ] My sister told me to finish my chores first before I left...I should have listened to her.

[ Then he wouldn't be here right now in the company of strangers, desperately trying to find any scrap of evidence that he isn't all that's left of his family. (Because he too would be dead! 😊) ]

[epiprocta]

[ He doesn't, actually. Gen doesn't like dealing with kids, and if this child were an unrelated stranger, Gen probably would have pawned him off on Eustace and left the scene without a moment's hesitation. Kids remind him of too many things, after all -- the worst moments of his life if they're sad, or the idyllic childhood he never got to have, if they're stupid and happy and innocent -- so he simply avoids them for the most part.

But because this situation is what it is, and because this child is Eustace ... ]

... you didn't need to.

[ Gen's tone of voice isn't gentle, not by a long shot, because when is he ever gentle? But it's even and low, lacking in his usual bluster. He keeps his gaze trained ahead, scanning the streets ahead for any actual threats (there are none), but the intensity to his words makes it clear he's giving plenty of thought to what's the right thing to say. ]

It's normal for siblings to bicker and fight sometimes. [ Probably. ] You didn't do anything wrong just 'cause you didn't listen to her.

[ 'Because otherwise you'd be dead,' he thinks, but knows better than to say out loud. There's a pause before he adds, ]

Sometimes things just happen. Thinking it's your fault is pointless.

[ But his words feel hollower this time. Across their connection, Eustace might feel a faint undercurrent of derision, mostly aimed at himself -- Gen doesn't even really believe what he's said. But it's the sort of thing adults would say, he thinks. Maybe it'll help. ]

[lockedon]

[ In the presence of two people older than him - and thus, two people who must surely know better than him - there ends up being a small amount of comfort found. Sure, Gen's not exactly the pinnacle of ideal bedside manner but his earnestness nonetheless carries through. It helps that he'd grown in a place largely sheltered from the rest of the world, where everyone had been willing to led a name, where everyone knew each other's names. There'd been no reason for him to ever distrust someone and there's no reason for him to start now.

There's a little blip in the boy's step, a slowing of his pace as he mulls over the advice given to him. It's not bad advice per se, but reason and logic are two things hard to grab hold of when you're young and fearful. ]

But I....

[ He falls silent again, face tipped down as he stares at the ground, a tiny frown on his tiny face. But....? Whatever it is he's about to say is lost, pushed aside in favor of a new, apparently more important topic. ]

Do you have siblings too? Is that how you know?

[epiprocta]

[ Gen keeps a straight face at that, but the question does immediately earn a sharp prickle of irritation; Eustace must feel that little spike of distaste before Gen tries to tamp it down. ]

... yeah. [ Well. Half-sibling. But he's not about to go into that right now. ] A little sister. A bit younger than you.

[ His tail lashes tensely behind him before curling against his leg. A little venting of emotions so he can make sure it's properly done when he continues. ]

She never listens to me. But s'not like I blame her for it. She's still my sister.

[ It's mostly lies. Of course he resents her and her mother for how they treat him. What the fuck do they know, what gives them the right to look at him with fear and disdain, like they always do? -- but still. Gen keeps his gaze trained straight ahead as he delivers those lies, then gives a small exhale. At least it sounds like that small version of Eustace is calming down a bit, so he can keep this up a bit longer. His delivery's a bit flat, but it should be enough to fool a child, he thinks. ]

I'm sure your family'd be the same. They'd just be glad you're okay right now.

[lockedon]

[ There's a vague sense of unease from behind Gen - from Eustace the older and not the younger, the frown on his face twitching deeper. Though this time it's not from the shock of seeing himself less than ten feet away, but rather from what's being said, a string of words that he know isn't as truthful as Gen tries to force them to be.

It's not as though they've talked about Gen's family life in length, even if they have touched upon it every now and then. He doesn't know all the details. But he knows enough about the circumstances, and more importantly he isn't deaf, to know that what's being said isn't just an idle way to pass the time. It's for the sake of the nervous child in front of them, for his sake, when all's said and done.

So he keeps his mouth shut as their little group keeps ambling forward. The reassurance seems to work well enough on a child, in any case, the younger him's expression crinkling unhappily at first before smoothing out over this similarity. ]

I guess so... [ Families seem so complicated but they're really pretty similar deep down, huh? (Well, that's what he thinks, but.....) ] She always gets really angry but I guess it's because she worries about me and everyone else. Same with Mom and Dad.

[ His voice drops and his feet slow, then stop. His small frame stays where it is but his head twists around, just far enough so he can peep up at Gen. ]

You're pretty nice, huh.

[epiprocta]

[ Gen ignores that gentle prickle of unease he can feel coming from Eustace, because he doesn't want to think about it right now. Doesn't want to think about the fact that Eustace can probably also feel every emotion that he's trying so hard to squelch -- a little pang of heartache and resentment and envy when that smaller Eustace mumbles about his healthy, functional family, followed by a sharper jolt of self-disgust for thinking like that.

The self-loathing just boils hotter when he hears 'you're pretty nice,' so bitter the taste lingers on the tongue, before Gen swallows it back. His free hand clenches to a fist so tight his leather glove creaks. ]

I'm not. [ It comes out a little curt before Gen forces himself to exhale slowly. His voice is quiet once more when he continues. ] ... I'm just normal. There's plenty of people nicer than me out there.

[ The kid stops, so he does too. And while he doesn't know exactly what's brought that child version of Eustace to a halt, it doesn't feel right to just leave things off on an utter lie ('I'm just normal,' as if) like that. Before he can be interrupted, Gen speaks again; though he's not kind enough to bend down and save mini-Eustace the trouble of craning his neck up, he does keep his gaze steady on the kid. ]

I just happened to be here this time. But even if it was someone else, you would've been fine. There's plenty of people out there that'll help you.

[ 'Even if your family is gone,' is the unspoken implication. Because he knows that's probably the truth. Eustace had said before that there was nothing left for him back in his home. He gets it now. ]

[lockedon]

[ Gen may not think of himself as particularly nice or kind but his efforts, forced and stumbling though they are, appear to be enough. There's still lingering worry casting a shadow on the small boy's face and a tension in his wrists as as he folds his hands together, fingers wrapping around themselves, but he's a far cry from when he started, trembling in panic.

So at least he's been good for something! Good job, bud. ]

Yeah, but you still helped me anyway. You didn't have to.

[ Such blind optimism, a simple black-and-white view of the world that hasn't yet been tainted by the cruelties of life. (But rest assured, that'll come later.) For now, his optimism and youthful resilience result in a quick bounceback, the fumbling but serious words of a stranger enough to give him the boost he needs to progress forward. ]

I think....I'll be okay. I mean [ he rushes his next few words ] you're probably right, everyone will feel better if they know I'm okay too. So I have to get back. They'll be okay....they have to be okay if I'm okay too...

[ His words trail off into silence, determination and desperation mixing on his face for a few seconds before he shakes them away (quite literally, after giving his head a small shake). ]

Thanks though. If I find them, I'll be sure to let you know.

[ How? It doesn't really matter. This boy won't be returning any time soon, his small figure slowly coalescing into knotted branches and vines all snarled together. A little creepy, all things considered, but hey at least the two real people are free now. ]

[epiprocta]

[ It's probably for the best that that doppelganger takes its leave after saying its part, because -- how could he have responded to that blind optimism? Especially when he knows that it doesn't pay off? He's not stupid enough to think that Eustace's family might have miraculously survived whatever had happened, not when Eustace had described his own hometown in such bleak terms, and ... he's not sure he's a good enough liar that he could have kept that bleak knowledge out of his voice.

His expression is pained enough as he watches that smaller version of Eustace crumble into so much foliage, and traces of it still linger in the furrow of his brow and the thin press of his lips when he glances over his shoulder back towards Eustace. ]

Eustace -- ...

[ His voice trails off, because -- even now, what is he supposed to say? Expressing sympathy doesn't come easy to him in the first place, and he's not sure if Eustace even wants it, from him, and under these circumstances.

At least the sounds of the streets coming back to life gives him an excuse to avoid Eustace's gaze for a moment as he looks around, taking in the civilians walking by once more. It seems like whatever was keeping them trapped there has relinquished its hold on them, and Gen briefly considers simply leaving to avoid an awkward conversation.

But he doesn't, in the end. Eustace deserves more than that. He only wishes that someone else were here to give it to Eustace, instead of him. So after another moment of clearly-uneasy deliberating, he speaks awkwardly -- almost announcing, rather than speaking to Eustace: ]

I'll pretend I didn't see anything, if you want. Or ... if you wanna say anything, I'll listen. S'up to you.

[lockedon]

[ Even with his suspicions proved right, that the child in front of them had been something created by the disease spreading through the city rather than real flesh and blood, he can't fully quell the anxiety that still surges through his veins at the ugly reminder of his past dredged up for the world to see. Or in this case, just Gen, though he isn't sure whether it's better or worse that it's someone close to him that's had to deal with the spillover of his carefully concealed history. (Probably better, but the knowledge doesn't ease any of his misery.)

He finally pulls away from where he's been hanging back, closing the gap between them so he can stare down at the gnarled roots sprouting from the ground, distaste beginning to cloud his expression. If this is the sort of thing they're going to be continually subjected to the longer they stay here, then better to finish this ridiculous war as fast as possible.

But that's a long-term goal he can only begin to chip away at. For now, he has to address the elephant in the room. ]

It doesn't really matter. [ Or so he says, but there's a strained tone to his voice that at least the subject matter very much does. ] You [ noncon ] saw most of what happened. There's not much more to add.

[ That's a lie but it's not as though he knows where to start with all this, not when this is the first time it's been dredged up in too many years. ]