[feeling homesick?]

[sevenhorrorsmods]

Who: the student body
When: October 9
Where: anywhere outside!
What: set fire to the rain
Warnings: some people might get chewed on by a fox

[On the morning of October 9th, a bright, almost ethereal glow flares from the rooftop]

[It lasts but a few seconds and can be seen from anywhere outside, as well as through the windows of the school. though it dissipates quickly, small bursts of light remain scattered in the sky, slowly floating down to the earth below. they are. . .]

[. . . small tongues of blue fire? they dance in the air like playful sprites, wiggling this way and that, inviting you closer with their whimsical shimmies. should you get too close to these sprites, you will hear a familiar voice echoing in your head. it is the voice of someone very close to you! someone you cared for. someone you once loved very, very much. someone you miss. someone you would do anything to see again]

[touch these tongues of blue flame, and that same person will appear before you, smiling with their hand extended. you will feel compelled to take it, almost as if you are in a trance. almost as if you cannot resist]

[the apparitions of your loved ones will attempt to guide you into the forest. characters who touch the flames will be reduced to a dreamlike state and compelled to follow them. this trance can be broken by another character with either a) a solid punch/stab/any kind of inflicted pain or b) a kiss. this knowledge is not known ICly, so you better get to experimenting!! if the trance is broken, the apparition will vanish in a whirlwind of blue fire with an irritated shriek, leaving nothing behind but a sense of loss and forlorn longing in the character who was affected]

[should a character's trance not be broken before they reach the woods. . . well. the apparition of their loved one will smile wickedly as it sprouts blue fox ears and three fluffy, blue tails at its back. its eyes will turn white, its teeth sharp, as its entire body shifts and morphs into a four-legged kitsune with blue fur and white-socked feet. the trance will be broken right as it attacks, as it attempts to sink teeth into its victim's neck and tear them limb from limb. whoops! looks like you got suckered into a miniboss fight!]

[the kitsune are pretty quick on their feet! they are difficult to hit, and their bites hurt, leaving an icy-hot sensation crawling across the skin at the site of the wound. they cannot be killed, but they can be injured with typical weapons (their blood oozes dark black), and they tend to balk when faced with more than one opponent. if you have a friend with you to fend them off, they are more likely to flee than not, curling up into balls of fur and popping out of existence with a bright blue spark of heat. the buddy system will be invaluable here!]

Comments

[ratiocinations]

[Holmes is stronger than he looks, and though he is not as strong as her, it is simple enough to keep her in his grip when it seems as though she is moving through molasses itself.]

Again: I will not. I will not lose you to whatever awaits you in the forest, cruelly tempted away by that.

[Again, a sharp glance at her “grandfather”, critical and seeking. He asks him:]

If you are who you say, then it would be simple enough for you to provide the first letter of your granddaughter’s last name, wouldn’t it?

[velluminous]

[ with eyes as dark as hers, it is impossible not to see the glassiness which comes into them the longer he rejects her bids. Kairos nods. says, ] It would, but I will not. Why would I risk her wellbeing to impress man I have never met? Umnitsa, if you do not come with me, there is nothing I can be doing to help you. Soon I must to go back where I belong.

[ he steps back.

and still, she's moaning, hanging in his arms: ] No! No, please—Let me go, let me go...

1/2

[ratiocinations]

[He snaps at the apparition, sharp and sudden, carried by the spike of anger in him. How dare whatever this blasted thing is be so cruel to Ms Fairplay? She, who has no family left who loves her, and thus carries the scars of this reality, letting it shape her character over the years; and now this thing comes along and tries to take advantage of it in the worst way possible. Of course she will be desperate to follow.

It's heartless.]

Do not lie to me! To her! You will not say because you do not know.

[ratiocinations]

[But Holmes swallows down that spike of agitation when he addresses Ms Fairplay again, looking down at her, trying to implore.]

Ms Fairplay. [At risk of her slipping away, he takes her by the chin with one hand and tries to make her look at him directly. Like this, he can see how utterly... far away she is.] Look at me. Listen to me. I would not deny you the happiness of a reunion with a loved one. I am not that cruel. But this is not it. You must trust me.

[velluminous]

[ he's right to fear that she slips away, because the moment his touch moves to her chin, she lunges to the side. the words do not even resonate. she does not hear them. it does not matter if his nails scrape her chin, or that she scuffs her knees in the dirt as she stumbles past him.

she has to follow Kairos. Kairos, who has turned away from her now, and has begun to walk towards the woods.

without her. ]

Dedushka! No!

[ratiocinations]

[A dire miscalculation. He had thought she would listen to logic if he tried hard enough, that she would think to trust him, but whatever hold this thing has on her is too strong. It frustrates him; it makes him feel a sense of dreadful urgency he only ever experiences amid the worst this school has thrown at them thus far.

She slips away. His heart leaps up into his throat, adrenaline stinging at his nerves, and while he does not wish to be rough with her, he knows he must stop her from reaching the forest.

Lunges forward and tries to grasp at... anything, really. Her shoulder, the fabric of her clothing. Her arm. Even her tail, though he will have to spare her an apology for it later, if that's the case. But none of that matters now; he must simply stop her from following into the forest.]

[velluminous]

[ her tail—it's a hard and painful yank, cutting through the haze like a clarion bell. she cries out high and sharp and unlike herself, or perhaps like the child she was in another life, and the sudden stop has her on treacherous footing. her foot skids, and she's down on her knees for real, skinning them both.

she's instinctively turning to wrench her tail out of Holmes' hand, come what consequences may, when the sound of a hellish shriek freezes her. it's Kairos. his face, twisted in an agony of rage, mouth open and baring fangs. the shriek seems to echo and redouble, and then he twist, all of him twisting, and vanishing in a whirlwind of blue flame.

and never has she felt such horrific grief. she wails, clawing at the dirt. ]

Dedushka, ne ukhodi, ne ukhodi bez menya—prosti menya za to, chto ya sdelala, pozhaluysta! Ya poydu s toboy, ya poydu s toboy, pozhaluysta!

[ratiocinations]

[He feels

terrible, really

because he watches her stumble and skin her knees, he watches that awful thing twist and screech in rage, and he hears her continue to sob and beg and plead to go with her grandfather in that Rashemi-tinted Russian. And Holmes cannot help but feel that—in his bid to save someone—he has only made it worse, and no feeling is so hollowing to him as this. She is still so heartbroken, she sounds so lost, he does not even know if she's been freed of its influence despite the creature's departure.

Why must it always come to this?

He releases her tail and is down on his knees beside her in an instant, trying to gather her up in his arms, to keep her from clawing away at the ground. He does not even know if the gesture will be welcome, or if she will hit and claw at him, instead, but that is fine, too; he deserves it, if so, and he will take it as it comes.]

I am sorry. Forgive me. I am so sorry.

[velluminous]

[ it's true that the embrace is not welcome. she wants no one else but Kairos, vanished like leaves on the wind. and yet to go untouched might actually kill her for the agony of how alone she feels.

so he gathers her up. she clings to him; yes, hits him, too—weak, childlike thumps, in the same breath as clinging onto him. Severine moans like a woman beset by fever, all the ugly weepy gasps and glottal stops of coming out of a dream. ]

No... no... grandfather...

[ratiocinations]

[And so she clings and hits him and weeps and Holmes just allows it. He holds her, in a way one might protect something fragile rather than trying to hold in a storm.]

I am sorry.

[He repeats, lowly.]

I could not let you follow him. I do not want you harmed.

/2

[velluminous]

[ there is no one left who loves her enough to look for her. ]

2/3

[velluminous]

[ snf. snf.

stop this now. this infernal crying. what use is there? so there is no one—she knew this already. ]

[velluminous]

[ she straightens. he will see her throat working as she swallows all the raw feeling down, down, down.

down into that hole in her chest. ]

I have been humiliated.

[ratiocinations]

[It’s not unlike watching someone swallow down shards of glass, witnessing reality sink in. He has not yet let go of her because of it.]

This was a particularly cruel. I wish I could have…

[He trails off. Helped in ways that did not wound her, too.

Instead:] Been gentler. But I did not want to lose you in there.

[velluminous]

[ gentleness will not save her; it never has. gentleness could not save Kairos, either.

the smile which comes to her face is not a happy smile. it is vellum-thin. ]

Better pain than suffering, da?

[ratiocinations]

[A smile more suited to her now; the result of a life unkind to her. He knows that look. It is not so rare, not like the vulnerability and pain he saw just moments before.]

I am not sure you were spared from either.

[And somehow, that feels like a failing on his part. Perhaps he should take comfort in knowing she's back to normal now, but it isn't easy to in this moment.]

The things you said... Why on earth would you have asked for forgiveness?

[Forgive me for what I did, please!]

[velluminous]

[ the edges of that smile quaver faintly—so faintly that anyone other than Sherlock Holmes would likely miss it. no, she is never spared from pain, and she is never spared from suffering. her parents would not allow it. nor, apparently, the spirits which haunt her footsteps here.

tieflings are unlucky. they attract bad luck.

looking at him, with her undereyes shining with unshed tears, and such a terrible, baleful expression on her face, she thinks: I wasn't asking for it from you. ]

They let him die because [ voice cracking ] I loved him too much.

[ratiocinations]

[But he is Sherlock Holmes, keen-eyed detective, and that quaver might as well be painted in bright colors across her face, especially for how close she is to him.

Baleful expression as it might be, she cannot hide the misery glistening in her eyes.]

What?

["Let him?"]

How do you mean? Through neglect?

[velluminous]

[ covers her face



digs her fingers in ]

[ratiocinations]

[Ohh, stop. Stop. Know when to stop asking questions, Holmes.

His heart twists for her. His disgust towards her parents, whom he has only met through passing memory, somehow ratchets up even higher than before, were such a thing possible. He thinks to himself, perhaps unflatteringly, that he should like to make their lives a bit miserable should he ever free himself of this place and find a way to her plane, as promised.

Takes her by the wrists, tries to draw her hands back down gently.]

Severine. [With the utmost seriousness, and thus the use of a first name to underline it.] Do not burden yourself with blame that does not belong to you. That was not your fault.

[velluminous]

[ "Severine" on its own feels as naked and vulnerable as she. she resists his pull, at first, but she knows by now that to resist him when he wants something is to create an entire scene and foster frustration that they can do nothing with but accept in the space between them.

but when he pulls her hands down, the tears begin to squeeze free. fuck, but she hates to cry. ]

To another person, they do this—! He wanted to see me and he fell and they do nothing, they leave him alone! You cannot do that to old man. His brain, it—it came... apart...

[ he began to forget... everything. ]

[ratiocinations]

[He that her pride would balk against tears. But what good is pride in an instance like this? Holmes does not think less of her because she feels sorrowful after her emotions were so ruthlessly manipulated.]

He wished to see you because he loved you. Do not ever feel guilty for that.

[To have family that cares so deeply is a blessing that not everyone experiences. And for her parents to twist it up into guilt that she now nestles away in her conscience?

Hands lowered, he takes one in both of his, squeezing faintly.]

You were a child. You could not have done anything, even if you wanted to. Surely you see that.

[velluminous]

[ she is shaking. ]

I should have loved him less so I could love him for longer.

[ratiocinations]

That is not how the heart works. That is not how... love works.

[He is no expert on love nor the human heart when it comes to handling either in a genteel way. But that does not deprive him of his own experiences, and thus he can say this with certainty.]

/2

[velluminous]

Love does not work.