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First and Last and Always
✖ THE END
Ⅰ. THE CITY
CW: potential alcohol use, nudity.
The ferry docks in calm waters/skies the colour of wine. The Ferryman, never a big talker to begin with, seems particularly quiet, and when you disembark he raises one hand in a little wave.
The island’s beach is bone white, the trees and bushes beyond it a lush green and deep teal. The air is the freshest you’ve ever tasted. Everything around you seems to radiate a sense of deep peace.
The path from the beach is clear, made of pale stones that glimmer faintly in the sun. It leads you up a gently sloping path and through a great stone archway overrun with climbing vines laden with tightly closed flowers. Beyond the arch, you can see that there is a shallow valley, the center of which is dominated by a massive stone temple. The temple is surrounded on three sides by a city. Its buildings are made of regular stone and dark, sturdy wood. Plantlife thrives here without feeling as if it is overgrown.
Here there are plenty of places to sleep and bathe and eat - everything is free, and the people who populate the island are by and large welcoming and friendly. To the west of the temple there are natural hot springs you may use. The east side of the city has a sort of lecture space where the island inhabitants gather to debate and talk philosophy or share stories and myths. Many of these you may recognise - there are famous stories from all universes being told. You’re welcome to tell your own. The south side of the city contains a sporting arena, open to the public when there isn’t some sort of competition on. While there isn’t anything modern like a JumboTron screen, there is sports equipment available that is familiar enough to use. The area north of the temple opens up on a thick forest. There are walking paths there, some of which lead up a large hill that affords a spectacular view of the city, the fields just outside of it to the east, and much of the rest of the forest.
During the day everything is bright and pleasant - the pace of life here is a slow one, overall.
At night is when the island really comes alive.
By the light of the stars and moon, all of the flowers growing on the many vines unfurl, revealing rich bioluminescent purples, pinks, and blues. They have a soft, warm scent.
There are parties at night on the island, filled with drinks and dancing. All are welcome. Unlike many of the other islands you have traveled to, there truly doesn’t appear to be any danger here.
Ⅱ. THE TEMPLE
Of course, the city is dominated by the presence of the temple at its center.
The temple is not quite like any you may recognise from history, but somehow reminiscent of many of them at the same time. The huge blocks of stone cut to build the structure are the same faintly pearlescent colour of the walking path that leads to the ferry, giving everything a soft but not unpleasant shimmer. There is no roof, leaving the whole thing open to the sky. The temple is circular, and to get to the center you must walk a labyrinth where the walls are covered once again in flowering vines. If you look closely and brush the leaves aside you will see there are faces carved into the rock. Some are not human, but every last one of them looks at peace.
You can find people walking the labyrinth. Some of them are clearly from the city, and they may or may not acknowledge you - they are absorbed in their own thoughts. More often than not however the people you see in the temple are clad in hooded robes that are either white or black. They’re happy to talk to you, and if asked will explain that people walk the labyrinth as a form of contemplation. “It represents a personal journey,” they will explain. “Walk it during the day and reflect on how you have come to be the person that you are. Walk it at night and you will experience visions of the moments in your journey where something in you changed, for good or for ill.”
The center of the labyrinth is a round clearing. Here the stones are darker and iridescent, with one huge block of it set in the middle of the space. On either side of it is a pillar: one black, one white.
The robed walkers of the temple will divulge the purpose of this place if asked: it is the throne room of the Ancient.
“If you choose to walk the labyrinth at night, no matter what visions may come, when you reach the center the Ancient will be there.” After all this time, this might seem like far too simple a ritual to summon a force that has been watching you for months.
The robed walker has only one other thing to say on the subject: “Well. She’s been waiting for you.”
Ⅲ. THE ANCIENT
If you choose to seek the Ancient, you set off at night into the temple. The pearlescent stones of the temple glow, turning the entire building into a shining vision. The flowering vines growing on the labyrinth walls release their own light and secret perfume, giving the journey a vaguely hallucinatory quality, like it isn’t quite real. You may run into someone you know along the way, so at least the walk isn’t quite so frightening.
The center of the temple has its own mellow light, a dark rainbow of shifting colour. The stars above are still perfectly clear, easy to see with the naked eye.
There is a tapestry strung between the black and white pillar, with what looks like pomegranates embroidered on it in darkly shining thread. Seated on the block of stone in front of this is a woman.
What does she look like? It’s different for everyone. Some people will see her as human, others not. To some she has a face and for others there is nothing there save a disc of radiant light. She could be any race, any colour, possessed of any body. The only constants are that she is extremely tall, and she wears something on her head - a crown, a circlet of stars, a mitre - and carries in one hand a sword and a scroll in the other.
One look and you understand that she knows you.
Or maybe you have zero interest in seeking out the Ancient. Maybe, just maybe, you’re avoiding it. Not that you’re scared or anything. You just don’t see the point. And so you avoid undertaking that final journey, sticking instead to the simple pleasures of the island.
Which is all well and good… for a while.
But there will come a night when you awaken at the entrance to the labyrinth. You have no memory of how you got there, and maybe you turn around and walk right back to where you fell asleep. Do that, and it will happen again. And again. And again. It’s never consistent, but you will be summoned again and again in the dead of night to the labyrinth. Maybe you should just give in… and take someone with you.
The Ancient is not emotional - she radiates a sense of calm, yes, but it isn’t particularly comforting. Her eyes are blank, sightless, but she watches you anyway.
“This is your time of reckoning,” she tells you. “Hold up your wrist.”
The colour of your ScryWatch is clearly revealed. It flickers between whatever the colour was when you started on your journey, and what the last change was. For some of you, this is an improvement. For others…
“What have you learned during your journey, Traveler?” Good question - probably best to answer honestly. This isn’t a being that appreciates attempts at deception.
The Ancient turns her face toward whoever has accompanied you on this journey. “Have they grown?” she demands. Guess she doesn’t trust just one opinion.
When you have pled your case, the Ancient stares at you for a while with her empty gaze. Finally she nods; she seems satisfied in some way, and when she speaks again her voice is serene.
“You have a choice to make, Traveler. You may return to your own world, alone, to the exact time at which you were taken. You will remember nothing of what you have experienced, except perhaps in dreams.
“Or you may choose to go on to somewhere else. I do not know where, or when, or what exactly will happen to you. You may remember everything, you may not. There are no guarantees. It will not be your home, but you will be alive and able to move on. If you travel together there is a great chance you will remain friends or lovers… somehow.
“When you have made your decision, go to the beach and tell the Ferryman where you wish to go: home, or away. He will take you there.”
The Ancient sits back. Your fate, it seems, is in your own hands.
As always.
Let's do it one last time!
CW: potential alcohol use, nudity.
The ferry docks in calm waters/skies the colour of wine. The Ferryman, never a big talker to begin with, seems particularly quiet, and when you disembark he raises one hand in a little wave.
The island’s beach is bone white, the trees and bushes beyond it a lush green and deep teal. The air is the freshest you’ve ever tasted. Everything around you seems to radiate a sense of deep peace.
The path from the beach is clear, made of pale stones that glimmer faintly in the sun. It leads you up a gently sloping path and through a great stone archway overrun with climbing vines laden with tightly closed flowers. Beyond the arch, you can see that there is a shallow valley, the center of which is dominated by a massive stone temple. The temple is surrounded on three sides by a city. Its buildings are made of regular stone and dark, sturdy wood. Plantlife thrives here without feeling as if it is overgrown.
Here there are plenty of places to sleep and bathe and eat - everything is free, and the people who populate the island are by and large welcoming and friendly. To the west of the temple there are natural hot springs you may use. The east side of the city has a sort of lecture space where the island inhabitants gather to debate and talk philosophy or share stories and myths. Many of these you may recognise - there are famous stories from all universes being told. You’re welcome to tell your own. The south side of the city contains a sporting arena, open to the public when there isn’t some sort of competition on. While there isn’t anything modern like a JumboTron screen, there is sports equipment available that is familiar enough to use. The area north of the temple opens up on a thick forest. There are walking paths there, some of which lead up a large hill that affords a spectacular view of the city, the fields just outside of it to the east, and much of the rest of the forest.
During the day everything is bright and pleasant - the pace of life here is a slow one, overall.
At night is when the island really comes alive.
By the light of the stars and moon, all of the flowers growing on the many vines unfurl, revealing rich bioluminescent purples, pinks, and blues. They have a soft, warm scent.
There are parties at night on the island, filled with drinks and dancing. All are welcome. Unlike many of the other islands you have traveled to, there truly doesn’t appear to be any danger here.
Notes:
1. Please remember to mark threads appropriately with Content Warnings when necessary.
2. You can participate in whatever activities you like with no outside interference, no magic tricks. Any trouble you get into will be entirely of your own making this time.
5. Have fun!
Ⅱ. THE TEMPLE
Of course, the city is dominated by the presence of the temple at its center.
The temple is not quite like any you may recognise from history, but somehow reminiscent of many of them at the same time. The huge blocks of stone cut to build the structure are the same faintly pearlescent colour of the walking path that leads to the ferry, giving everything a soft but not unpleasant shimmer. There is no roof, leaving the whole thing open to the sky. The temple is circular, and to get to the center you must walk a labyrinth where the walls are covered once again in flowering vines. If you look closely and brush the leaves aside you will see there are faces carved into the rock. Some are not human, but every last one of them looks at peace.
You can find people walking the labyrinth. Some of them are clearly from the city, and they may or may not acknowledge you - they are absorbed in their own thoughts. More often than not however the people you see in the temple are clad in hooded robes that are either white or black. They’re happy to talk to you, and if asked will explain that people walk the labyrinth as a form of contemplation. “It represents a personal journey,” they will explain. “Walk it during the day and reflect on how you have come to be the person that you are. Walk it at night and you will experience visions of the moments in your journey where something in you changed, for good or for ill.”
The center of the labyrinth is a round clearing. Here the stones are darker and iridescent, with one huge block of it set in the middle of the space. On either side of it is a pillar: one black, one white.
The robed walkers of the temple will divulge the purpose of this place if asked: it is the throne room of the Ancient.
“If you choose to walk the labyrinth at night, no matter what visions may come, when you reach the center the Ancient will be there.” After all this time, this might seem like far too simple a ritual to summon a force that has been watching you for months.
The robed walker has only one other thing to say on the subject: “Well. She’s been waiting for you.”
Notes:
1. Visions in the labyrinth can be seen by whoever you are with.
Ⅲ. THE ANCIENT
If you choose to seek the Ancient, you set off at night into the temple. The pearlescent stones of the temple glow, turning the entire building into a shining vision. The flowering vines growing on the labyrinth walls release their own light and secret perfume, giving the journey a vaguely hallucinatory quality, like it isn’t quite real. You may run into someone you know along the way, so at least the walk isn’t quite so frightening.
The center of the temple has its own mellow light, a dark rainbow of shifting colour. The stars above are still perfectly clear, easy to see with the naked eye.
There is a tapestry strung between the black and white pillar, with what looks like pomegranates embroidered on it in darkly shining thread. Seated on the block of stone in front of this is a woman.
What does she look like? It’s different for everyone. Some people will see her as human, others not. To some she has a face and for others there is nothing there save a disc of radiant light. She could be any race, any colour, possessed of any body. The only constants are that she is extremely tall, and she wears something on her head - a crown, a circlet of stars, a mitre - and carries in one hand a sword and a scroll in the other.
One look and you understand that she knows you.
Or maybe you have zero interest in seeking out the Ancient. Maybe, just maybe, you’re avoiding it. Not that you’re scared or anything. You just don’t see the point. And so you avoid undertaking that final journey, sticking instead to the simple pleasures of the island.
Which is all well and good… for a while.
But there will come a night when you awaken at the entrance to the labyrinth. You have no memory of how you got there, and maybe you turn around and walk right back to where you fell asleep. Do that, and it will happen again. And again. And again. It’s never consistent, but you will be summoned again and again in the dead of night to the labyrinth. Maybe you should just give in… and take someone with you.
The Ancient is not emotional - she radiates a sense of calm, yes, but it isn’t particularly comforting. Her eyes are blank, sightless, but she watches you anyway.
“This is your time of reckoning,” she tells you. “Hold up your wrist.”The colour of your ScryWatch is clearly revealed. It flickers between whatever the colour was when you started on your journey, and what the last change was. For some of you, this is an improvement. For others…
“What have you learned during your journey, Traveler?” Good question - probably best to answer honestly. This isn’t a being that appreciates attempts at deception.
The Ancient turns her face toward whoever has accompanied you on this journey. “Have they grown?” she demands. Guess she doesn’t trust just one opinion.
When you have pled your case, the Ancient stares at you for a while with her empty gaze. Finally she nods; she seems satisfied in some way, and when she speaks again her voice is serene.
“You have a choice to make, Traveler. You may return to your own world, alone, to the exact time at which you were taken. You will remember nothing of what you have experienced, except perhaps in dreams.
“Or you may choose to go on to somewhere else. I do not know where, or when, or what exactly will happen to you. You may remember everything, you may not. There are no guarantees. It will not be your home, but you will be alive and able to move on. If you travel together there is a great chance you will remain friends or lovers… somehow.
“When you have made your decision, go to the beach and tell the Ferryman where you wish to go: home, or away. He will take you there.”
The Ancient sits back. Your fate, it seems, is in your own hands.
As always.
Notes:
1. Characters are not judged on morals - the purpose of the journey across the Endless Isles was personal development. How you choose to interpret this is entirely up to you.
2. Theoretically you could just keep not walking the labyrinth forever. If that’s the case, your character would stay on the island until they either went through with it or died of old age.
3. The choices given to your character are meant to wrap up the game as neatly as possible. The decision to move through to another world is meant to be a way for you to take your CRAU with you, whether to another game or a PSL or what have you.
4. Your character has plenty of time before they make their choice so that they can say goodbye to people if they wish.
no subject
Kyle really ought to know by now that fairness in life is actually exceptionally rare. He just can't seem to keep it in mind, though.
He hugs Quentin tight enough to hurt. "I'm not leaving you," he whispers furiously. "I'm NOT. You're my person. I'm not leaving you, not even if it means I can't see my mom or my dad or Ike again. They'll be okay. I can't leave you, Quentin."
no subject
"No. It's not. But we can fight it. We can try to make what we want of it," he says before the breath is squeezed from his lungs too much to go on speaking.
It gives him enough time at least to think about what he wants Kyle to do versus what he probably should do. Thinking back on the warnings of their host the only way Kyle gets to go back where he came from seems to go hand in hand with letting all of this go.
"We don't have to decide right now, right? We can just... hang out for a while and figure something out. Right?"
no subject
He knows that's not really an option - they wouldn't have been given only two choices if it were. But he needs to cling to some kind of hope.
"And if not, we'll figure it out." He looks Quentin in the eye. "I'm NOT leaving you. Even if we get separated, I'll find my way to you. I swear to god, dude."
no subject
When the fear of those frustrated tears welling in his eyes spilling over he frames Kyle's face in his hands and pulls him for a kiss. Momentarily disappearing them to some place created by his mind. Or his and Kyle's together. Some patchwork of places that feel comfortable and familiar poached from both their memories. There's plants from Krakoa and snow capped mountains in the background. Quentin doesn't look so much like he might cry here.
"I think I can fight it," he says. "I think if we're connected like this when we leave this place I'll be able to find you anywhere through this... through your thoughts. Your mental signature. Like bread crumbs."
It's a guarantee of nothing but it gives him some hope.
"Just. Let me get as close as we can. It'll help." And if it doesn't, at least he won't regret not sharing all he could.
no subject
"Yes," he says. Any and all barriers he may have constructed even subconsciously are thrown open.
"Yes, you can see all of me, just... please, yes, anything. Anything so I can keep you."
His heart aches in a way that's vaguely familiar, but so much bigger, so much sharper than when he'd lost Stan.
no subject
Feeling that fear in every corner of Kyle's mind doesn't help the matter, but he does try to set his overactive mind to work, looking into every braincell, studying every synapse. Anything he can do to map this place so he'll know it again when he feels it through the ether.
All those things Kyle keeps to himself ache when they're laid bare. Not because he worked so terribly hard to hide them but because they're the sort things a person never just offers up about themselves. They're sad, or gross, or embarrassing or foolish, or hurt just enough that you can't go around talking them.
He squeezes Kyle tightly. "Mine too," Quentin murmurs. "You can see all mine too."
Even as he says it there's a tidal waves of thoughts and feelings and memories that aren't his that come crashing down on Kyle.
His genuine, earnest fear that he'd hurt Sophie. His palpable heartbreak when Phoebe chose her sisters over him. How much he actually loved being a hero to Idie, and Broo, and Gwen. That time he got stuffed in a locker everyday for an entire semester. Another time in middle school he over heard the plot to ask him out as a joke. All the thoughts his parents ever tried to pretend they didn't have about their disappointment in adopting him— a mutant. A single teacher who told him he was something special one time and he's never been able to forget it. The visions and sensations occasionally accompanied by song he'd never to admit liking span years and miles and get faster and faster as his panicked effort to share everything peaks with the intense crescendo of an 80's power ballad he'd otherwise be too embarrassed to ever admit knowing the words to:
And I need you now tonight
And I need you more than ever
And if you only hold me tight
We'll be holding on forever
And we'll only be making it right
'Cause we'll never be wrong
Together we can take it to the end of the line
Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time (All of the time)
I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark
We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks
I really need you tonight
Forever's gonna start tonight
Forever's gonna start tonight
I'm not crying, you're crying
His own jumbled memories are there for Quentin to pick through. Silly things, like pretending he got his period in third grade because everyone else said they had. Screaming at aliens. Dressing up like a vampire and killing zombies.
Terrible things too, of course. Being in the hospital, growing weaker and weaker as his kidneys fail. The bitter sting of being rejected for Cartman, of not being able to accept it gracefully. Watching Stan grow more and more like his father and being unable to do anything about it.
But with the good memories, memories of his family and friends and secret places in a tiny Colorado town, there are so many thoughts of Quentin. It's these Kyle holds to tightest as kisses Quentin over and over again.
He not sure when he started laughing.
"You're such a dork," he whispers.
🥹🥹🥹
"I know," he sniffles, even here in their minds where he could pretend to be a strong as he wants to and doesn't have to let the annoying little quirks of physiology effect the image he projects of himself. He could. If he was still trying to hide anything.
"But you'll keep my secrets. I know you will. I love that about you."
no subject
"Always. In this life or any other." He has to let go to wipe his eyes, which are leaking.
"I'm so scared, Q," he whispers. "I'm tempted to have you lobotomise us both or something, keep us right here forever. But we can't do that."
He looks around and sighs. "I'm going to fuck you SO good SO many times before we get on a stupid boat," he mutters.