I left my body lying somewhere in the sands of time

[bearshermark]

WHO: Eleven + others, with open prompts post-beacon.
WHEN: pre- and post-beacon
WHERE: Taravast
WHAT: Various things
WARNINGS: Feelings. Spoilers for late Act II/beginning of Act III DQXI.

Prompts in comments

Comments

Pre-Beacon

[bearshermark]

Wrench

[bearshermark]

The chaos he'd returned to was nothing short of horrifying. Hearing Bonaccorso turn the witches on his own people- even days later when the assault finally began to ease, he still felt sick with it. That anyone could encourage such atrocities..

But as he took a moment to breathe, Eleven caught sight of someone he'd not-quite been searching for. Or rather- a familiar, strange mask.

"Wrench," he called, then winced as he inhaled a plume of smoke and coughed, eyes watering. "I have your order."

[in_theworks]

Wrench straightens at his name and immediately turns, trying to find the source of it. It really doesn't take him long to spot Eleven (or to notice the trouble he's having with the smoke), and when he does, he's quick to head in his direction, reaching for something in his pocket as he approaches.

"Here, dude," he tells him, pushing a length of cloth into his hands as he reaches him. It's probably meant to be a bandage, albeit one he didn't have to use, just in case, but, "Wrap it around your nose and mouth."

This isn't his first protest-turned-riot.

[bearshermark]

Eleven peers at the offered cloth, taking a moment to make sense of it, then follows suit. It feels strange, but it makes sense- there's a lot of smoke here and his eyes water with it. He steps away from the charred remains of the building in hopes of slightly clearer air and clears his throat.

"Thanks."

He opens the pouch at his waist, fiddles about, then shoves his arm impossibly far in. After a few moments searching, Eleven lifts a hammer out from hidden depths and offers it out.

"I wasn't sure how long you'd want the reach to be, but if you still wanted utility as a tool.." he shrugged. "Though the metal is hefted with more the intent of a weapon, it works fine as a tool still. Good grips should help with either task.."

[in_theworks]

Wrench watches as he reaches into the pouch, expression one of obvious surprise and confusion. (o_O) It's quick to fade, however, or at least quick to take a backseat, as he comes up with the hammer. They may come back to that, but for now? (!_!)

"Oh, hooooooly shit, dude," he declares as he reaches to take the hammer from him almost reverently.

[bearshermark]

Eleven relinquishes it to him with a smile that reaches his eyes. Wrench looks pleased with it already, and he can't help but feel proud of his work.

"It should serve you well, I think. I wasn't certain how much weight would suit you." Even now, he can't really tell how strong Wrench is, covered in loose clothing as he is. "But it's got a good balance, so you should manage well enough."

Sizhui

[bearshermark]

[With the attack abated, what's left, as ever, lays in tending the injured. As frequently happens, when Eleven settles to tend one person, those that overhear him say he accepts donations, but wouldn't charge for his services steadily begin to approach.

But given he's chosen to work through a poorer district, those donations are few, and he's swiftly finding himself running short of those supplies.

Eleven bandages an arm, then turns to the next with a frown]

I can heal your injuries, but.. I've run out of salve to alleviate the pain of your burns.

Lily

[bearshermark]

He'd sat at Lily's desk to pen the last letter he'd write to Archeval. With this, he'd finish upholding his promise to update his absent friend and grant himself at least some sense of closure- or so he'd thought. Eleven was wholly unprepared for the pain it would bring; the regrets and finality of his own words- the bleak future he had to look forward to.

Tears gathered in his eyes, then fell just as soon as he signed the paper in a wavering hand. His chest hurt like a physical thing. There was one more thing he had to do, but his throat was sore and speech felt beyond him.

The beacon was open and somehow, he had to tell Lily- bright, beautiful Lily- that he had to leave her.

[lancifolium]

Pushing the door open with her hip Lily walked into the room she and Eleven had been sharing and stopped abruptly, easily catching the tension in his shoulders as he sat at the desk. Whatever was going on, it wasn't good.

"What's going on?" The Beacon being opened had not escaped her, but she desperately wanted to believe that whatever was bothering him now, wasn't that. Once they had discussed a much longer goodbye, and she was just naive and optimistic enough to hope that would still be the case, and that he wasn't going to tell her what part of her swiftly began to convince herself she was about to hear.

[bearshermark]

The third-hardest thing he'd ever have to do, he reminded himself miserably. The second being the physical act of leaving her.

Eleven breathed, attempting to steady himself. He knew looking at her would be his undoing, and so hunched his shoulders and stared at the letter he'd written without quite reading it. Goddess, but it hurt to even think of the words, let alone say them. He shook his head, while his fingers dug into the fabric covering his chest- that one specific place.

"I.." The single word, syllable, came out roughly. Eleven cleared his throat and willed strength into his voice- a will that failed to pull through. "I've.. regained my power, already.."

[lancifolium]

"Oh." Everything about her seemed to dim and deflate, her shoulders sagging as she turned to sit absently on the edge of the bed, staring down at the floor. "It's time to go," her voice wavered but she lifted her head, making herself look at him.

Everything had always been finite. It was understood that there wasn't any way to make it anything else. They had resolved to make the most of it and while she could certainly say that for them, that didn't mean the end wasn't any less devastating now that it had come.

"I will miss you." Despite her best effort, Lily couldn't hold out, looking back down at her lap as tears prickled at the corners of her eyes.

[bearshermark]

Goddess, but it hurt. If he didn't know better, he'd believe there was something very heavy weighted on his chest, slowly crushing him. His mouth quivered, finally chancing a glance over to her, and felt the hot rush of tears renew again to see her own.

It was all he could do then to get up and move for her, sit next to her and draw her into his arms for what could be the last time.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and letting the tears run down his face. "I'm so sorry."

Post-Beacon

[bearshermark]

Lily

[bearshermark]

For one heart-stopping moment as his eyes opened and he looked over an unfamiliar landscape, Eleven feared for what had become of him. The Timekeeper's warning pulsed between his ears in a haunting echo.

Lost; a half-faded memory.

But.. he did recognize this place. The longer he looked at it, the more certain he became. A rush of memory, like something long-forgotten, ordered itself in his mind. His temples throbbed, eyes squeezing shut as he struggled to make sense of it.

A world inside the Void? Beset by Death, between worlds- a version of the past he hadn't meant to return to.

Taravast. He'd spent months here. How odd it was- that certainty.

Eleven took in his surroundings, noting the collection of people looking anywhere from crestfallen to frustrated. What had happened? But there was a girl, sitting on the edge of it, head in her hands with red hair curtaining off her face. He found his steps drawn to her with an echo of recognition- a quiet certainty that he knew her.

"..Are you all right?"

[lancifolium]

Unable to bring herself to watch when Eleven stepped through the Beacon, Lily hovered at the back of the line, turning away entirely and sitting on the steps instead. The parts of her heart not already hurting terribly with the loss of him were twisted in confusion as she remained as uncertain as ever over whether or not staying or going was the right choice.

Everything felt so muddled by sadness, there was nothing she could do but sit with it for a while, head in hands, hiding behind her hair as she tried to think of the future and mourn the loss of her first love at the same time.

She hadn't had much luck when she heard what she didn't want to believe was the sound of his voice. Lifting her head Lily looked up with red eyes, her forehead creased in confusion as she spotted him.

"Did you change your mind?" Even as she said it, it didn't seem correct. There was something different about him, something a little more worn and weathered - like he'd somehow crammed months of traveling outside into what had to have been less than a quarter of an hour.

[bearshermark]

"Lily," he breathed, chest tight and eyes widening.

Memory snapped together in a rush that left him feeling light-headed. He remembered her crying, holding her, kissing and touching her-

His face flushed through more vivid, salacious images and feelings, skin tingling oddly. He shivered, glancing off as he worked to rein in his expression, and took in their surroundings with new eyes.

Yes, he'd been here- five months ago. He'd left her five months ago, with tears in her eyes, unable to watch him go. His heart fluttered, then squeezed as he looked back to her with a guilty draw of his brows.

Eleven knelt in front of her and held out a hand.

"I'm sorry I left you. How long have you been waiting here?"

[lancifolium]

"Waiting?" Something about this was definitely not right. Confused Lily looked over her shoulder towards the Beacon, spotting a few familiar faces among the frustrated-looking lot still milling about the now deactivated portal home.

It couldn't have been that long since he left her.

"Not even half an hour," she looked at his hand, wanting to take it but hesitating, unsure of him. "Did...did you leave?" He didn't look like he had before she couldn't bring herself to keep looking after him as he passed through the Beacon, but he hadn't been gone long enough to seem as different as he now did. She wanted to trust that it was him more than anything, but until she could, she held back.

[bearshermark]

Eleven's brows creased. Half an hour? But he'd spent months in Erdrea. How could that be? The fingers of his outstretched hand laxed into a loose curl.

"..Yes," he said after a moment, raising his eyes to search her face. For her then, he'd only just left. His heart fell. "For five months."

Open!

[bearshermark]

1. Around Town/Various Shops

[Once the initial confusion of his return had (mostly) passed, Eleven found himself short on supplies. He'd retrieved his leftover coin from Lily and set about re-familiarizing himself with the streets, following a vague idea of where the shops he needed were meant to be.

Context for the disrepair he laid eyes on along the way tickled at his memory and steadily unfurled. It hadn't been that long in reality, though it still felt odd to know he'd forgotten everything in those five months (few minutes) he'd been gone.

He stopped at a store front, looking over the wares until he caught sight of what he thought he recognized as a familiar face]

Ah, hello. ..We knew each other before, didn't we?


2. Grave-digging

[The Attaryl had helped him, Eleven remembered. He'd been so weak, his spirit broken, then mended over time under one of their school's instruction. The least he could do was help set them to rest.

In this at least, it didn't matter that his power was gone. There wasn't any other way he'd manage this task except by hand. So he dug alongside the others, a frown etched into his face as he worked. They'd been slaughtered, he'd heard, and no matter their sins, it wasn't anything he could agree with.

With another grave dug, he climbed out of it and dragged an arm across his brow, leaning on his shovel as he contemplated where to dig next]

I remember not trusting this sort of burial here. They've become undead before, haven't they?


3. Wildcard

[ooc: Feel free to tag in with anything adjacent to these prompts, anything we might have pre-arranged, or if you have something else in mind, hit me up!]

Re: Open!

[beitangmoran]

[It's ben a bit confusing, this business of the beacon not being open very long and then it spitting back some people, a few new ones and some known faces who seemed to have gone through more than their short absence should warrant.

And right now, the city is busy enough with licking its wounds that not hasn't necessarily been easy to touch base with everyone. Moran is busy at the palace more often than not. he still thinks Maccaluso is the wrong choice if these people want an actual leader, but if that is who they have chosen, then he will at least try to instill a hefty dose of cynicism in the young man before they go. And do his best to encourage Lady Vanozza to pull the strings in the background. Maybe with the two of them at the helm, instead of just one, the city can survive.

Now on a rare moment off, he is actually window-shopping without any real goal to buy anything unless he stumbles on an interesting book when a familiar voice cuts through and he turns with a smile.]

Yes, indeed. We haven't crossed paths in a little while... but from what I gather it has been longer for you than for me.

[bearshermark]

[He does recognize him, and after a moment, Eleven smiles]

Part of your name is 'Moran'. You were kind to me and had visions of the future- and what you had seen did happen. ..Though it seems I wasn't successful in changing time, ending up here again instead.

[beitangmoran]

Beitang Moran.

[But it is puzzling to realize...]

Did you forget about this place, while you were 'gone'?

You might have been successful in your own world, who knows. How long has it been for you?

2

[scrapgege]

Hm. It's definitely a concern but... I think dismembering the bodies and burning them might be frowned upon here.

[It would be the safest way, and to be honest, there are some bodies that are already half burned from the Bessis confrontation, or who are missing bits and pieces but they could potentially still be raised... It's a never-ending worry here, really.]

... We can only do so much.

[Regretfully. He remembers the time he himself piled the undead bodies outside of the farmhouse to burn them. Everyone deserves their last rites, really. But they can't control what will happen after that.]

[bearshermark]

[He winces. Dismembering would be going a bit far, but..

Eleven stares across the bodies they have to bury and thinks they really should burn them]

But there are necromancers. The city won't be safe if..

[scrapgege]

We can't save them in spite of themselves.

[It's said softly, without condemnation or judgement. In a tone that betrays a deep weariness of what made him come to that conclusion.

He still spares Eleven a smile.]

Believe me, I've tried it before, it never works.

Maybe some of the cultivators or the other people who know magic have seals or spells they can use to make sure those graves will remain untouched. But we can only do so much.