week four | endgame

[marriagebroker]

After one last night at the estate, everyone is set to big farewell on Sunday morning or afternoon or evening, however long they want to linger until they say their goodbyes.

There will be transportation to send them out of the estate and back to wherever they came from! They will leave just the way they arrived, of course. Taken all the way back home to their respective worlds.

But before that! Everyone is given one smartphone which they will be told can communicate with everyone else, including Wei Wuxian. If they want to call or text or whatever they want. There's already a group chat set up where Wei Wuxian has posted:

Safe travels, friends!

And Wei Wuxian will also share that they are able to travel to each other's worlds. They just need to return to the estate and from the estate, they can leave back to someone else's world. The estate will function as a "hub" of sorts for these travels.

So, farewell, friends! Here's to your perfect match!

Boom Boom Room | Talking Heads | Honeymoon Suite
Love Meme | tl;cr Meme

Comments

[anathemaw]

[ Messmer hadn't brought much, and so he readies himself to depart exactly as he'd arrived; his enormous spear is back in hand, and his helmet rests once more on his head. There's an enormous black carriage, pulled by an enormous black beast, that's no doubt waiting for him, but he does not yet move to board it. He looks neither joyous nor sad. Instead, he stands near the entrance, staring up at the sky, lost in thought. ]

Now cometh our decisive moment.

[ the words are muttered more to himself than anything. In what form will this miracle come? For his wish has changed shape, too, become blurrier and more uncertain, as has his future. As much as he's derided this experience, it's changed him undeniably. Whether it's better or worse, he can't say - he only knows that, from here on, everything will be different. Closing his eye, he breathes in deep. ]

[researcherstory]

Indeed. Fraut with nervous energy, Messmer?

[ Here's his perfect match... She's in little rush to leave herself, though that's more because she's inclined to await for Yi Sang and Yingying's readiness. It's important to coordinate. ]

[anathemaw]

[ he doesn't actually answer that question - perhaps to spare his (already very wounded by this game) dignity - but his response probably implies it all on its own. ]

... I would uproot all we have bled for upon my return for a future yet uncertain, and one that layeth outside the boughs of Grace. Many are the warriors who will not suffer such blasphemy.

[ he's not looking forward to the clash that's waiting for him. The clash with his friends, with his most devout followers, with his mother - all are inevitable. Yet he has to believe that this conflict is preferable to rotting away for eternity, forgotten in a forgotten land. If nothing else, he has to do it now for Verso. There's no longer any option to back out. ]

Thy homecoming will bleed thee less, I hope.

[researcherstory]

[ Poor thing. The unknown is always terrifying, going against all you've known the same -- but there's no pity in the way Odile lays her hand on his arm, a simple kind gesture she'll retract easily should it be unwelcome, only reassurance. ]

Plenty less. I have already bled and been welcomed a hero for it, and now is the time for rest. An era I'm certain you will enter yourself sooner rather than later.

[ Probably. Anyway, she'll fold her hands into her sleeves regardless of the prior reaction to her action, thoughtful as she looks him over.

... ]

Ka Bue and Vaugarde may have reservations due to your size, but there are plenty of other peaceful places you and yours may traverse should you ever want for a moment away. Those two in particular have a kind of... taboo and trauma respectively, and may for some time to come. I'd like to see you again as well, to hear what comes of your decision to step beyond your lines.

[anathemaw]

[ her touch has the two serpents rearing their heads towards her warily, but they do nothing further; nor does Messmer, who simply turns his head to look towards her. To touch him so casually as if he isn't a walking sin - to invite him to her home, say she wants to meet him again, even - is outrageous. But Odile doesn't seem like the type for platitudes. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to so many people treating him so normally. If the seeds of his doubt in the Golden Order hadn't already been planted, the fact that those bereft of light he met here could overlook his serpentine nature might have sowed them on their own.

Rest. What a pipe dream. And yet, although remote, the possibility is just barely in his view. ]

Thou wouldst invite a tyrant to thy doorstep. [ he scoffs. ] ... If in the coming years my head yet remaineth upon my shoulders, perhaps.

[ his timescale may be slightly off in comparison to hers. Everyone is immortal in the Lands Between, after all... ]

[poans]

[Although their paths haven't crossed nearly as much as those of others, Yi Sang still considers Messmer an essential member of their cohort. And so, given the opportunity to strike up one last conversation, he strides up to glance at the sky before turning his attention to him.]

Have you made your wish, Messmer?

[anathemaw]

[ is it him, or does Yi Sang look slightly less dead inside? Good for him. Messmer probably doesn't - there's only a hardness in his expression that wasn't there before. ]

... Such is the matter I contemplate now. Only one miracle hath been afforded us each; I would not squander it.

[ he needs to decide how specific he should be, how much to include... he worries that it will be a monkey's paw situation, and that it will flip back around on him if he doesn't get it perfect the first time. More than anything, he still finds himself torn. He must use it to help himself and his soldiers, to free them from their prison; none can do it but he. Yet part of him yearns still to speak to Marika -- despite everything. Messmer feels with existential certainty this is his only chance. A loyal dog, up until the very last moment... ]

[poans]

If I may . . . perhaps giving voice to those thoughts will clear your mind.

[Of course, he'll respect Messmer's desire for privacy if the proposal is distasteful. But much seems to plague him, and Yi Sang has learned the merits of sharing with those who want to listen.]

[anathemaw]

[ voicing them to Yi Sang, of all people... sounds quite foolish indeed. Messmer gives a dismissive hmph. There's too much to explain, and he doesn't find himself particularly interested in making it Yi Sang's business. ]

A change hath taken thee.

[ the eyes of the serpent and of Messmer are all on Yi Sang, curious. Local guy who hasn't been paying attention to the romances going on around him if they aren't relevant to the matches... ]

[poans]

[He takes the dismissal in stride. Instead, his attention is drawn to the eyes of the serpent before settling on Messmer, his neck craned to compensate for the difference in their height. To the face he couldn't gaze upon several weeks ago, he offers a small smile.]

Indeed, for the path I now walk is a companionable one where the sun has broken and the air is clear.

[anathemaw]

Hm.

[ a riddle for an answer, as expected. ]

I applaud thy fortune.

[ did he find love with Yingying, after all? ]

[fireball]

[ Whaaaat the absolute fuck is that thing.

Still, she's gonna side-eye Messmer and go for it. If she screws up and has to run for her life then like... surely she can? Get out of here? Quickly? ]

So are you gonna unfuck things or what?

[ Decisive moment. That's gotta be what he's referring to. ]

[anathemaw]

[ he was not expecting her, of all people, to approach him. And to continue pressing him on his wish. He doesn't bother turning to look at her; instead, one of the serpents does, eyeing her warily. ]

Wouldst thou truly believe it such a simple matter? That by a single sweet wish all wrong may be righted?

[fireball]

[ Yeah, she got an idea in her head regarding him and doesn't want to relent. Only if violence is threatened, but that doesn't seem to be happening. The snake is... kind of cute?

A beat. ]

I mean, you've gotta start somewhere, don't you?

[anathemaw]

Let it start without me. I have penned enough chapters in their history.

[ Perhaps it's callous and selfish of him. He's already wrung out every last drop of his energy in this conflict against the Hornsent - in spilling an ocean of their blood in holy purge, and in trying vainly to save the mutilated victims of their torture pits alike. From his perspective, he would only be trading one unending battle for another if he stayed, or even wished to undo his actions. There can be no redemption. Not for him, and probably not for them, either. ]

My men I will take, and leave their lands behind. That is the wish they shall be granted.

[fireball]

[ For once, Poppy is capable of recognizing that there is a lot going on here that she is completely in the dark on. Which, it makes sense. She and Messmer are obviously from completely different worlds, and also the whole genocide thing just remains incredibly, incredibly wild.

But... a beat, as she considers him. ]

As long as you're using it for someone else.

[ ?? Is that good enough? She doesn't know.

Shit, she might not even be using hers on someone else, in the end — but she gets to feel morally superior to Messmer either way, and while that may not be the most important thing here, it's still pretty important. ]

[scooptimistic]

Decisive in what way?

[ Hi. Nosy here. ]

[anathemaw]

[ oh hey, it's Maya. ]

In my future, and that of those under my wing. [ ... ] I will leave the Shadowlands, and blaspheme against Mother by it.

[scooptimistic]

... But doing that... it's something you want to do, right?

[reverso]

[And so stands Verso beside him, as things have been decided — as things ought to be. His eyes track upwards, too, but do not land on the sky; rather, his gaze traces Messmer's profile.]

Infinite possibilities make it harder to know which route to take, doesn't it?

[The devil is in the details, so they say. The power of their wishes seems nearly too grand, so it is difficult to know how to precisely use them. How to word them. How to apply them, in all their prospects.

Still, he's here for him, either way.]

[anathemaw]

[ Funny. He'd so strongly wished to dissuade Verso from coming with him for both Verso's sake and his own peace of mind, but, standing beside him now, Messmer can't deny that he finds his nerves eased, if only for a moment. The familiar ache of everything - the serpent's coils, the fire's heat, the yawning chasm of Marika's absence - remains, but here is tangible proof of a change. Though he hasn't been able to steal that hope from Verso for himself yet, it walks with him in the man at his side. ]

Aye. By this miracle I would open the path home. Yet I know not... if such a measure alone will suffice.

[ How will the wish be granted? What kind of path? He can't simply unveil the Shadowlands; it's been so long that the very lay of the Lands Between may have changed, and the reappearance of its lost piece could bring about more death and destruction. And what might follow him back? Worse, what might be waiting there upon his return? There's no way to know. More than a thousand years have passed without a scrap of information from the other side. This isn't a wish he can make lightly.

He glances over to Verso, leaning his weight against the great spear he's planted on the ground. ]

... Thou art bereft of Grace. Thy presence will not be seen kindly by the devout.

[reverso]

[In that same way, Messmer is a steadying presence for Verso, too. The yawning void of an uncertain future is freeing yet terrifying if one thinks about it overlong, and it is good to know that he will not be alone. That he will be with someone dear to him as they both learn how to wring out light in that darkness, even if they have to fight for it tooth and nail.]

Regardless, when you tear that door open, Messmer, we will face together whatever greets us on the other side. I'm ready.

[He knows not what they will face, but this does not change how certain he feels about this decision to fight by his side. He is ready, and his will can only temper itself further in the flames of conflict.

At the Graceless comment, he can't help but scoff a little.]

Ah, well, c'est la vie. If it's light they seek, I can still give it to them.

[Because his magic element is light, get it, haha]

[anathemaw]

[ oh boy. There's a lot Verso will have to learn about the Lands Between... There's no way to know just how different their homes are, but Messmer supposes they'll find out soon enough. He shakes his head gently. ]

'Tis a blessing I refer to, of Mother's... Marika's. [ that still doesn't feel very good to say. He moves past it quickly. ] At once thou wilt be known as an outsider.

[ his word alone will be enough to shield Verso from the worst of it, he hopes - at this point, the troops are exhausted, and the majority of them continue to fight out of either loyalty or desperation. But Messmer doesn't continue this train of thought. Something else piques his interest - something he'd never asked about, somehow. ]

Thy native tongue...

[reverso]

[Mm, he suspected Messmer meant more than just any ol' light, but he nods at the correction, all the same. It doesn't change his feelings on the matter when it comes to traveling to his world, remaining by his side. He suspects he'd be an outsider in more than just one way, knowing so little about the world he hails from, and having to adjust—and fending off the distrust of others, or worse—was always part of the deal.

He nearly says as much, but instead blinks up at Messmer, intrigued by the comment.]

Oui?

[Yes, what about his French.]

Will that be an issue, too?

[anathemaw]

[ Messmer shakes his head. It'll be yet another peculiarity to him in the Lands Between, but he can't imagine anyone would care much about such a minor difference - what you look like and who you pray to are far more defining characteristics than the language you speak. ]

... No. It hath a pleasing melody.

[ in other words, Messmer thinks his French sounds nice - an admission he makes rather shyly, if only by slipping it into the middle of this conversation where he thinks he can hide it. ]

Yet its meaning eludes me. I would know what words thou callest me by.

[ Verso occasionally refers to him with terms he doesn't understand. He might have just done it now, but Messmer truly doesn't know (still, despite the high percentage of French people in the household). ]