Missrecalled Mods (
missrecalled_mods) wrote in
the_isle2025-04-23 01:34 am
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Don't Be Afraid To Be Who You Are - Isle Side
The Rain Rain Rain Came Down Down Down
Just over a week after the Isle visit people would find themselves drawn outside. The weather was finally getting warmer, but that wasn't all of it. A strange foul smelling - and fairly toxic - mold had begun growing in some of the classrooms. Thankfully not the ones where people were sleeping but it was still enough to make it unpleasant to remain indoors. Some might blame the growth of the mold on a certain obsessive compulsive cleaner, though others might say that he just discovered it and accidentally gave it access to oxygen and such.
Whichever the reason, sleeping outside for a few days was sounding like a better and better plan with every passing minute. Even the drizzling weather couldn't make the indoors terribly appealing for anyone with a sense of smell.
And it was over night on one such night that the rain was... different. Warmer and a bit tingly. And some people would awaken quite a bit older than when they fell asleep, perhaps. Their memories might have caught up with their age, or might come to them slowly. However it happens, there might be some very confusing moments as those who seemed to be young just a moment before are now... less so.
Gift In Time Gift In Time Nary A Reason Nary A Rhyme Gift In Time!
Weirdly, there was something good to come not long after the rain. In addition to aging some folks up, it also seemed to wash away the worst of the mold, allowing people to return indoors once more. And each of them would find, soon after, in some place that they considered theirs... a small gift. It was rare that positive things happened on the Isle, but perhaps this was a sign of things to come.
Or perhaps even a broken clock is right once in a blue moon...
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It sounded... an awful lot as though he was yawning, at first, the way his voice warped a little before settling into its usual tone. "Yeeeeaaaah, must be dawn already. 'S a welcome sight up there." Rub, rub... he shifted to sit up a little straighter... but didn't uncurl yet, his rays sinking back in a little as he tucked his chin down onto his knees again, even as he tilted his face up to see the lancer. He might've been joking around already, but he was still just as poor a liar as ever: he wasn't actually in a great mood. That, or he was just still too sleepy to be his usual enthusiastic self? ...Maybe. Possibly.
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After a moment, he added, "No one is angry with you, you know. Well, perhaps the old virago, but there seems to be very little in the world that doesn't earn a glare from her, so her opinion isn't to be counted."
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"Understand that you do not have to do anything. Your cleaning has done much to improve the state of things here, and I told the young King as much, but you are by no means required to do it. If you wish to, then you are welcome to, but I will not force you, nor allow anyone else to do so. Whatever may have been the case in the world you hail from, here, you belong only to yourself. Your choices and your actions are your own."
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It was subtle -- barely enough of a movement to register as any kind of flinch or wince as he worked over the logic. He had to keep the Daycare's public-facing areas clean, that much he'd been taught, repeatedly and sometimes very painfully. But despite Foulques's reassurances, he couldn't quite disable the priority on cleaning....
He must have been having some sort of internal conflict, the way his rays bobbed in and out, just barely, in a sort of wave around his head. Were the lancer from a more modern setting, he might recognize it as akin to a loading-circle animation. But the way he held the poofy, half-stiff pants around his little knees was surely just as telling about whatever internal conflicts he was dealing with....
"You said... the rain is what got rid of the mold? So... so maybe I should try using some of the rain water to wash off the rest?" This topic, he could deal with, ridiculous as it may have been, to return to just then....
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Foulques smiled gently but a bit ruefully. "Had we been expecting it, someone might have set out containers to catch some," he said. "But alas, it was as unexpected as it was mysterious, so is likely all absorbed into the ground or mingled with the rest of the surrounding water. Though that's probably just as well, given its other effects."
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"Given its obviously magical nature, tis likely for the best that no one was able to keep any, when we've no idea what the passage of time might do to it in its pure form. Would it degrade and lose its effectiveness? Would it grow more potent, like wine left to age? Or would it simply become ordinary water the moment it ceased to fall from the sky as rain? We've no way to know. And frankly, this is one instance where I'd rather not test the waters, to turn a phrase."
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"Wait..." Uncertain, still, he tilted his head the other way, rays barely bobbing a little more. "Wait, but if it washed away whatever mold was smelling so awful in here... then it was inside the building too? Did-- did it flood the place or something? How-- Awwwww...." He was not looking forward to what he figured the situation had become, while he'd been powered down. "This is going to be a mess to mop up, isn't it."
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"In any case, you needn't be concerned. Even if you could find a proper mop, there's no more water in the building than there generally is. How the passing rain washed it away then, I don't know, but tis unwise to look a gift chocobo in the mouth, especially here."
"And speaking of gifts, did you find any unexpected items waiting for you when you came in to recharge?"
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And then the lancer just had to go and ask that.
His rays sank back in while he spent another silent second or several clearly trying to figure out how to answer that. No wheel-animation this time, just that gradual deflation of what had passed for a good, or at least decent, mood, the spikes disappearing between his head's layers.
"Maaaybe?" He tried to sound cheerful enough as he said it, but it came out more like a question than not. "Did you put them there? Heh heh... I thought for sure I hadn't brought them with me, in that box there...." A subtle turn of his head as he peeked to the plastic crate sitting on the chair he'd had his feet up on a few minutes ago. That box.
He wasn't going to draw attention to the cardboard box under the chair just yet.
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The last bit was slightly more pointed than it perhaps needed to be. He could tell Sun was stalling and trying to deflect interest away from himself.
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There they were: plushies. He didn't say anything, probably trying to figure out what to say about them, bringing his hands up to him, as though he was about to gesture a little and try explaining... and then he didn't, sighing again instead and dropping his hands back down around his legs, looking away from the box.
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"Why did you fear to show me these?", he asked. "Did you think I would take them from you?"
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"I-- ...." There was that hesitation again, and Sun looked back down toward the box and its toys, quieter. "...I actually have friends now."
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He didn't just drop the toy. The gesture was subtle, as low to the box as it already was, but he tossed it in, making it bounce against the others a little.
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"But other people do that too, sometimes. They give each other friendship bracelets and stuff... except, it's really pretty easy to get dolls and things from the gift shops. We can just tell the computer to write one off for us, and... even where to have a Staffbot take it, if we want them to. That's... how I got the ones I had.
"They could've had something of mine... but they didn't. And... I don't know that I still want anything of theirs. Not now. Everyone always talks about how nice they are... but...." He made a gesture with his hands, kind of a more subtle sort of shrugging sentiment.
"You're welcome to do whatever with them." He picked up the slimmer plush of himself, considering it a moment, tilting it a little. The fabric was shiny in places -- particularly on what passed for his rays, its visual texture one of large-flake gold glitter, despite physically being about as smooth as the rest of it -- and it caught the light nicely. He didn't bother doing much else with it, just regarded it silently another few seconds before dropping it -- far more gently, this time, than he'd done with Roxy's -- back into the box. He paused, finally noticing the two dolls that didn't fit the theme of the others, now that the one of himself wasn't obscuring the view of them and he was paying some semblance of attention to what was in front of him, and pulled them out to inspect them quietly.
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Foulques moved to get a better look at the last too dolls himself. They didn't look quite as professionally done as the others, and were in an entirely different style. Moreover, they were clearly meant to be humans in odd costumes, rather than beastmen or mammets. "These two seem to be the odd ones out," he said. "Do you know who they're meant to be, perchance?"
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