TDM - JANUARY 2021

[robbies]

TEST DRIVE MEME - JANUARY 2021

Good to the last gasp.
CW: gaslighting, potential mentions and depictions of trauma and other problematic material, body horror, dolls, violence

---

“Help me. Please, help me…”

A child’s voice, calling out for aid. There’s no rhyme or reason for when it comes to you. It’s so quiet, a whisper in the deepest, darkest corners of your mind. Were it not for the sharp, stabbing pain it pulls out of you, you could ignore it. You could even pretend it’s just your imagination.

It all happens so quickly and powerfully. Left in the dust, your brain struggles to process it all. Blacking out is the least it can do, but it’s also all it can do, and it does so before you even have a chance to fully register just how young the voice is, and how deeply, heartbreakingly lost it sounds.

When you finally awaken with your bare feet tangled in soft sheets, a layer of fuzzy fleece or slinky silk clinging to your body like another layer of skin, the sunlight pouring in from the window next to your bed momentarily blinding you, and the cries of happy children playing outside of it carrying faintly, it all becomes very clear—

Something is horribly wrong.

---

JANUARY 1st.

It becomes very clear very quickly that this isn’t a simple kidnapping. If you’re twenty years old or older, the bedroom you wake up in is very clearly a couple’s bedroom — with separate beds like a modest, modern couple of course! A similarly lost and confused stranger is in the other. They are your counterpart, for everything in this room has a matching counterpart — the nightstand and lamp each of you have beside your beds, the framed pictures on the wall, even your pajamas. If you’re under twenty years old, your room is smaller but more personalized, filled with comic books, model kits, stray baseball cards littered around the floor. Dolls, fashion magazines of people dressed from a bygone era, stacks of vinyl records neatly arranged next to a record player. And then there are the pictures. They’re everywhere in the house — in a frame on your nightstand, hung on the walls, stuck in the photo albums and scrapbooks lying on your desk or tucked away in drawers. Here you are on your wedding day, exchanging vows with your partner. Here’s you sitting in a fishing boat with one of the younger members of your house. Here’s a picture of you at ten years old getting ready for the first day of school. All of the photographs are aged, sepia, even yellowed and dusty in frames hung for a long, long time. By the time you make it down to the living room, you’ll notice that the television is on; someone must have forgotten to turn it off before they went to bed. On it, the morning news is playing. The newscaster, a man in a gray suit and horn-rimmed glasses, keeps shuffling his paperwork on his desk as black and white footage of people in the midst of celebration — throwing streamers, wearing paper hats, toasting flutes of bubbly liquid — is interspersed between his droning report: ”New Year's Eve was in full swing last night as citizens from all over Santa Rosita came together to ring in 1961. A surge in ginger ale and sparkling cider beverage sales was reported by Honeybees as early as eight o'clock in the evening, a boon for the store…“

---

GETTING TO KNOW THE NEIGHBORS.

As you get acclimated, you gradually begin to learn more about this strange new world you’ve found yourself in. You’re in a neighborhood on the east side of a town called Santa Rosita located… somewhere in California (wherever or whatever that might be). The year is 1961. If it wasn’t clear enough, your neighbors are more than willing to humor you if you ask. Even if you accost them with questions and demands. Sure, you and your family are a little kooky, and you have a very overactive imagination, but the key to any good joke is playing along! And how could something like “I’m from the future, from another world” be anything but a joke? A. CLOWN AROUND. If December was a time for sweet treats and good food, January is the month where everyone is trying to unload their leftovers. Who better to enjoy them than you, the newest family on the block? Your neighbors have quite a bit of food to share: Throughout the month, they'll stop by to say hello, bringing a new sugary dish with them each time. As always, jello molds are a staple. One plate turns into three turns into five, and by the end of the first week of January, you're likely to end up with a collection of jiggling pink, green, and orange lumps taking up space in your fridge. From mountains of Whip 'n Chill to Broken Window Glass cake, you'd be forgiven in thinking that there's no end to it. And yet, there's the occasional exception. Someone comes by with a Bundt cake lathered in vanilla icing and topped with rainbow sprinkles. Were it not for the giant candy clown head topping it, it would almost look good enough to eat. "There's a rumor going around that you've been a bit under the weather, so I thought this would cheer you up!" they say, right before thrusting the technicolor nightmare into your hands, the clown's dead pink frosted eyes staring up at you. Your neighbor is quick to tell you to eat it while the icing is still fresh (you never know who might lick it off when you're not looking, eh kids?), but not that the clown itself is made out of styrofoam. That's something you'll just have to find out for yourself when you take it back inside and start chowing down!

B. SNOW DAY

What awakens you one cold Friday morning isn't the blare of your alarm clock or your family getting ready to start their day or even the chilly air that tickles your toes as they poke out from the bottom of your covers, but the sound of hooting and hollering outside your window. The sight that awaits you when you go to investigate is something out of a Norman Rockwell painting: The entire neighborhood is outside, playing and carrying on in the snow. While everyone was sleeping, Santa Rosita got four inches of snow, more than enough for the schools to close but not enough to stop everyone from enjoying it.

And enjoy it they are! Children build snowmen in their front yards while their fathers work on shoveling their driveways. Most, however, are busy erecting snow forts in their yards and the middle of the street, running back and forth as they collect ammunition for an ongoing snowball fight that takes up half of the neighborhood. Nobody is spared from their assault, not even the adults, and especially not the newly arrived ones who leave the house. Good luck getting the mail, mom and dad!

"Come on! There's plenty of snow!" one young boy yells at you over a snowdrift. "You can join my team!"

"Nuh-uh!" another boy shoots back. "You can join my team!"

And on and on it goes. Well, for the pacifists among you, making snow angels is always an option!

---

THROUGHOUT JANUARY.

CW: gaslighting, potential mentions and depictions of trauma, and other problematic material

There’s no business like show business! And business is hopping at the Starlight Drive-In, which has been boasting about its all-new film premiering on January 2nd and playing all month long. The critics are raving, the townspeople are flocking, and plans to go to the drive-in seems to be all anyone can talk about. “Make sure you get there early to see the serials,” many of them suggest, eyes wide with excitement. “I couldn’t look away!” Whether you come with your family, your friends, or simply come on your own, the lot is packed, Robbies and normal townsfolk alike beaming as they hook the individual speakers onto their cars. Apropos of the cold weather, the concession stand has added seasonal items to their menu, serving up hot chocolate and kettle corn in addition to its usual soda and popcorn. Watching a movie against a backdrop of gently falling snow while you're sipping on steaming chocolate and melted marshmallows has a certain je nais se quoi to it that even you have to admit is appealing. At last, when it's finally dark enough to start, the projector clicks on from the booth in the back of the lot and the movie begins. A. COMING ATTRACTIONS. The movie, Curse of the Doll People, is a horror flick. A real chill-o-rama, starring actors you've never heard of playing a group of archeologists who unknowingly trigger a deadly curse that sets a group of murderous living dolls upon them. The poster pasted on the ticket booth promises it'll be the most fun you'll have screaming. Unfortunately, you have to sit through several minutes of previews first. The coming attractions aren't anything special — a bunch of westerns, a romance, even a beach musical. Far from being bored to tears like you might be, the people in the cars around you are glued to the screen, popping snacks into their mouths and whispering their commentary among themselves. The movie is the reason why everyone's here, sure, but you don't just get one flick out of going to the pictures! There's also the serials, little 5—10 minute long chapter plays that tell a story in pieces. Nothing can beat those, and when the first one starts, everyone sits in rapt attention as if it were the feature presentation itself. But as the scene opens up on a sight that is instantly familiar to you, and your own face stares back at you from the projection screen, it becomes clear that this is no ordinary film. You watch your memories play out in grainy black and white footage, aired for all the world to see. Or perhaps not — though you may not realize it, the movie playing out on the screen differs from person to person. No one sees the same thing. The person next to you might see one of their worst fears come to life, whether imagined or real, practical or fantastic. You might see one of the worst moments of your life — the death of a friend, your hated enemy bringing you to the brink of death, your absolute lowest point — exactly the way you remember it... save for the way your double on the screen occasionally turns to face the audience, staring directly at you with a knowing smirk and a wink. Or the way your loved ones will sometimes go off-script, gazing at you with pleading eyes as they beg you to help them. The people of Santa Rosita will see an exciting battle between two pirate ships, swashbuckling and cannon fire in place of the traumas you're witnessing. When the serial ends on a cliffhanger, much to the disappointment of everyone around you, it's almost a mercy. "Tune in next week for the thrilling second part!" Well, you will, won't you?

---

END OF THE MONTH.

CW: body horror, dolls, violence

Aside from the horror of the drive-in, January might seem to be passing calmly... until one night, something changes. In the middle of the night, once you fall asleep in your comfortable bed (or on your couch, or with your head lolling against the kitchen table), a nightmare comes to you. The shift from whatever dreams you were having to the cold, dark void you find yourself standing in happens gradually and quietly. So too does the image that plays out in your mind's eye: From out of the darkness, a featureless mannequin stands ramrod straight, facing you with its arms pressed rigidly to its sides. It has no face, no identifying marks, no features at all. It's a blank slate in every sense of the word... until it isn't. Slowly, the material of the lower half of its face begins to split as a searing pain tears through your own, as if invisible fingers are ripping your lips off inch by inch. The slit on the doll's face widens and deepens until, finally, mercifully, its new mouth opens as yours disappears, replaced by a flat, smooth barrier of skin. Like it was never there to begin with. The pain returns, this time in your arms and neck — right as the doll's own begin to jerk. Your joints are hardening, seizing up as the doll's arms go from minutely twitching to slowly flexing. While every nerve and bone from your fingertips all the way up to your shoulders grows heavy, the doll tilts its head and looks down at its hands, as if seeing them for the first time. By the time it takes its first step, you've taken your last: the pain has spread to your feet, ankles and toes hardening and locking into place. Every part of you is claimed this way; what isn't taken by force simply fades from your body and shifts into being onto the doll's, your skin replacing its cloth body, your clothing dressing it, your hair filling out its head. Your tongue goes numb as the licks its newfound lips, coarse cloth and batting surging up from your lungs and all the way to the back of your throat. By the time it's over, you can't move. You can no longer breathe. All you can do is stare at the perfect, eyeless double of yourself standing before you. As your eyes begin to burn, the last thing you see before everything goes black is the sly curve of a smile — your smile — before the face wearing it turns away and walks back into the darkness. Luckily, you wake up to a room full of sunshine and the distant sound of traffic as the neighborhood gets ready for another beautiful day. The morning air feels cold and dry on your skin. You're you. As much as you've always been. Right?

A. DOPPELGANGER.

It's the kind of morning that makes you want to sing. Where the sky was once dull and grey, it's now a deep blue. Barring the usual hustle and bustle on the streets of Shadyside, the first sound that greets you when you wake up is the steady beat of water trickling outside your window as the snow begins to gently melt under the rays of the sun. You may even hear the chirp of a bird! January, in all its dreariness, is nearly at an end.

When you leave the room to go downstairs — or upstairs, if you slept in the living room — the house is quiet and flooded with sunlight. With how perfectly silent everything is, it's easy to mistake the calm for solitude and think you're alone.

This is not the case.

Waiting to greet you is a familiar figure. If you go downstairs, you'll see it sitting in your kitchen with its head bowed and its arms hanging limply at its sides; if upstairs, lying in your bed on its back. There's no mistaking who it is. Even at a distance, their hair, face, clothes and features all instantly recognizable, and you know who it is before you even fully register their presence:

You.

Motionless, your doppelganger looks more puppet than person. Its chest is still, not a single breath leaving its mouth. Its eyes are closed. They snap open when you get closer to it, wide enough to see the whites, as its head jerks up to look straight at you. In a staccato imitation of your voice, it chirps at you:

"Hi!"

"Good morning!"

"Hello!"

"Rise and shine!"

Your clone is a good imitation, but not a perfect one. Its movements are stiff and uncoordinated, like a marionette being commanded by unseen strings. Though its cheeks are rosy, its skin is pale and almost glossy with the texture of newly polished porcelain. None of these setbacks bother it in the very least. If left alone, it goes about the house mimicking your morning routine, though given how awkward just walking is for it, it's almost certain to do a very bad job. Still, it tries its hardest, following you all day around the neighborhood, trying to imitate your movements — all with a smile!

That is, until you become aggressive with it.

It doesn't take much to set your doppelganger off — a simple shove will do it. When that happens, its eyes will do the impossible and open even wider, its mouth yawning into a wail that pitches louder and louder. That's the point when it will lunge at you. Its hands will try to go for your throat, but not always. It's resourceful enough to improvise with whatever it has around it, whether that be a kitchen knife, a paperweight, or even a letter opener. Luckily for you, they're fragile. Just hitting them is enough to crack and chip away at their skin. With enough strength, their limbs can even come off. Unluckily, they don't stay down for long; even a severed appendage can be popped back into its proper ball-jointed place.

All the while, they never stop childishly whining and shrieking at you.

"Not nice!"

"Why are you so mean?!"

"Not nice, not nice, NOT NICE!"

The only way to shut them up for good is to keep pummeling them until they're nothing but a pile of doll parts. But be thorough — even a mouth that's nothing but a shard of porcelain can still talk.

---

OOC INFO

Hello, and welcome to We're Still Here's second TDM! Here's a few things we'd like you to keep in mind:

The TDM is canon. You can treat this as the game's first real event and pick and choose what threads you would like your character to remember when they enter the game. For characters who app into the game, the events of the TDM will be treated like a dream. Upon awakening from it, characters will find that time has jumped ahead to February 1st. You may also feel free to use similar reality and/or time distortions to explain why the family members your characters have in the TDM aren't the same as the ones they may be assigned to in the game proper. Additionally, starting today comments made to the TDM will now count towards Activity Check. Current players are permitted to use up to five comments from it for this month's Activity Check — half of the required amount to pass. The other five must be made within the game's communities.

If you would like to have January or other winter-themed content in your relaxed housing prompts, please feel free! You are not beholden to follow our prompts exactly so long as the spirit is maintained.

There is no Network prompt listed, but feel free to wildcard one for your characters anyway.

Although the TDM is canon in the sense that characters are free to remember its events when they app into the game, it does not count as an official plot heavy event, meaning that characters will not receive regains from participating in it.

A note about the drive-in theater: Players are in full control over what memories, phobias, or fears the serials before the movie will depict. You can also specify whether or not other characters will be able to see your character's serial. Be sure to label your threads with relevant content warnings if needed!

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Comments

[weifinder]

( The amount of power, the kind of sacrifices needed to summon bodies across distances... hah. If anyone knew some of those costs, it would be the both of them. He gives Nie Huaisang a dry look, as if to imply, you think so?, but to him that's too thin a reason, too simple at its heart, and too complicated for its process.

Regardless, here he is, and so he'll deal with those thoughts later. )

Ah, but Nie-xiong, when am I ever anything less than cheerfully cooperative?

( Grin more than a touch wry, he knows it is not what he's known for, but the charming flaunting of rules in his youth is tempered anyway these days: still something he does, but with awareness and a choice of the when and hows. Granted, being in Gusu Lan at all as he has, or plans to be again, is a flagrant flaunting of one particular man's rules, but Lan Qiren isn't alive if he's not having some reaction to something about Wei Wuxian. Let an old man be as ridiculous as he wants, it's all benign comparatively.

Not that he ignores what's meant behind that. Some spell, or curse, that works in such a way... and none of them (as far as he knows) possessing any skills that would sense such things in any meaningful way. While Huaisang helps by gagging and binding the puppet Wei Wuxian's likewise keeping on the floor, he considers: )

No signs of anything I could see as significant or ritual when I woke initially. In this place, that is, waking up today was more... did you have any vivid dreams in the last few nights? Ones you can recall?

( Nie Huaisang moves again, up and hiding his face as he does, but Wei Wuxian only sighs and shakes his head at his friend (and, in ways, both saviour and the one willing to edge on a little bit of suicide in bringing him back for his own reasons, and as a masterful play off Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian both in the process, one Jin Guangyao had aimed for too later for his own reasons), vaguely amused. Is it better or worse he feels no less strong than he has been lately anyway, now that he's undeniably normal human in all ways? Who's to say.

Hauling the not!Huaisang up, he's met with kicking resistance and ends up sweeping the puppet into his arms, flashing a charming, ironic smile as he strides for the chair and deposits his burden there with more care than he needs, and less than he perhaps should. The puppets, unlike true beings, are more breakable. One looks closely and one can see a crack across the puppet Wei Wuxian's cheek, from impact in their tussle. )

The problem with making a fuss, and take it from two people who are very good at making fusses, is you need to either know or guess very well at your audience. You, my puppet friend, didn't know yours.

( All said conversationally enough, though the puppet again tries fighting back: first with a headbutt, that Wei Wuxian dodges by leaning to the side, then trying to kick up and out of the chair.

Wei Wuxian opts to sit in the puppet's lap, bracing a hand against their head and otherwise tossing a look back at Nie Huaisang: )

There's more rope on the counter.

( Take care of those legs, will you? The rope there however looks more home-grown, so to speak, made out of woven together strips of sheets. Sometimes you just gotta improvise. )

[fanoperator]

Hmmmmm, [Huaisang pretends to think about Wuxian's claim of always being cheerfully cooperative, pursing his lips in thought.] Can't think of any examples.

[He keeps out of the way as Wuxian takes on most of the effort of handling his puppet-self.] That awful dream about a puppet? This puppet? [Huaisang nods, shuddering at the memory of that awful, horrifying dream.] It was wretched. Like my skin was being torn off and I no longer had a mouth. [Among other terrors, but Huaisang doesn't want to linger on that misery. He always prefers to shoo away negativity and dwell on brighter things.] And then this one showed up. It doesn't seem like a coincidence. [Pointing his fan at his struggling other self, Huaisang grimaced.]

I'm glad it was only a nightmare. With the strange and awful magic of this place, I wouldn't be surprised if it got worse sometime. Will you... in case you run into me or another of these ones, just... make sure it's me. I'm scared they might actually swap me with one of those. [At least for now it's obvious which one's which, but the dolls are learning and mimicking, and Huaisang is terrified of them becoming truly convincing duplicates.

When instructed, he grabs the makeshift rope and brings it over, grabbing one leg at a time and winding the rope to secure them.] We're going to have to go to the hardware store and get you some more rope. And also... new sheets?

[weifinder]

( Wei Wuxian laughs at the response to his cheerful cooperation claim, one of the few genuine times since he's arrived here. Then he's holding a bucking, misleadingly fragile puppet in place while Huaisang runs down a list of too familiar statements. )

I had the same dream. So no, I wouldn't say any of this is a coincidence, exactly.

( Or that they are the only two people in this current situation. Whatever the number of abducted are, he'd guess there's at least a handful of them suffering the same situation. It's clearly not house-related. )

Have you seen any of the over-cheery ones bleed?

( He asks, as if this is totally normal to ask someone. The dolls are imperfect mimics in a variety of ways, that being one of them. Does that change? Is it what explains the half of the town so... strikingly optimistic? Or is that more of the mind manipulation that can be brought down at various times?

Either way, what's the purpose of the imperfect puppetry?

Nie Huaisang's entirely normal statement about supplies has Wei Wuxian blinking, then laughing, brief and again, honestly amused. )

Skip the sheets, there's the second bed sitting empty, and the whole second room meant for a youth of some sort. Rope, however, yes. Do we need some kind of story for why? Does anyone appear to pay attention to what people are buying?

( Another pause. )

Nie-xiong, are we supposed to... work here? Because whatever stipend getting slid our way is, ah, not really going to cover past necessities if I'm understanding the money system here.

[fanoperator]

Yes. [Huaisang shudders as he offers a grim answer to the question.] Last month, there was... well, I've told you about some of it. The overly-cheery Christmas village, being teleported there, being teleported into the lake there, seeing monster reindeer eating normal reindeer and people, snowmen who encroached on the house, and inside the snowmen were the over-cheery ones, and if you hit them they... they bled.

More important about the over-cheery ones is that it's not always permanent. One of my friends was ensorcelled like that for a couple of weeks, but now he's back to normal. I... I fear that the overly-cheery ones are actually ... us. The abductees. After a certain amount of time, we'll be permanently cheery like that. Especially if we draw attention and don't fit in like we're supposed to.

I don't think they'll ask questions about rope as long as you have excuses ready. Tell them it's a home improvement project. If anyone presses, say it's a rope swing. Just... have your excuses and act cheery and cooperative and it'll be okay.

[Retreating back away from the puppets and hiding behind his fan again once he can, Huaisang chews worriedly at his lower lip.] Yes. The houses seem to be paid for, but you need a job for necessities. I've been working part-time at the department store, learning to sew, and working on art pieces that I can sell.

[weifinder]

( Wei Wuxian studies the tied doll-like versions of themselves, seeing the empty sort of fury burning in their eyes. At least the gags kept them from continuing to wail. There's only so much of a parody like the Yiling Patriarch that he had the stomach to handle.

He glances to Huaisang, listening as he speaks. )

Now, pretending everything's fine, who'd have skill in that?

( A smile, and the awareness that they're both great at putting on that particular face, for all they approach it differently. Knowing that it's fake enough... ah. )

Nie-xiong, saying all this, how do you want us to recognise each other? If it's a matter of determining one way or another, should we start recounting moles, new scars, tells that aren't obvious to mimic?

( He clucks his tongue and shakes his head and turns his side to the dolls, but never his back. There's this whole concept of employment and he's... baffled. )

What's a department store?

[fanoperator]

I don't think that's necessary. [Huaisang shakes his head, chewing briefly on his lip as he thinks.] I trust you to be able to tell the difference. Any plan that we made would be easy enough to falsify or mimic. I think it's more a matter of being on guard. If I were to suddenly show up and insist that you must come with me promptly without explaining, or with an odd excuse, you would be wary. I'm only saying that we ought to be wary, and to pay attention, even if it with each other.

[He trusts both their skills of observation, but Huaisang has been here long enough to know that one cannot always trust one's eyes or instincts. It's important to be wary.]

A department store... it's a very large shop, the size of a very large building with multiple floors. Imagine that there was a very very wealthy merchant who bought such a building, and he filled one room entirely with jewelry, and another room entirely with women's clothing, and another room entirely with men's clothing, and another room dedicated to shoes, and another room for weaponry... It's like a dozen shops all in one building, and all owned by the same person. So instead of going all around the city to do your shopping, you can just go to the one place and get everything.

[weifinder]

( He snorts, but offers no commentary on how trustworthy he is in telling differences; the truth is he likely would notice, and he doesn't think Nie Huaisang would fail on that count either. Such as it is...

He hums something like assent under his breath, then moves to pick up pieces of cloth he'd set aside as blinds for his doll twin, and now he can use as well for Nie Huaisang's lesser half. )

Nie-xiong, you know me well enough to know I would show up at random and insist you come with me.

( Something like a smile, and a blink to shift gears and take in the explanation offered. )

Sounds both convenient and strange at the same time. So many goods in one place, not run by separate merchants?

( He shakes his head, finishing tying the blindfold over Nie Huaisang's doll double. Moving towards his own with the same intent, he said: )

How do the other merchants feel about it? And are any of these other places open late, to the drinking crowds? I assume this department store isn't, if it sells goods rather than providing areas for gathering, stories, and gossip.

[fanoperator]

Oh, well, of course you would. If you were acting strangely, you'd be calm and cooperative and completely straightforward, and I would be deeply alarmed.

[Huaisang blinks innocently as he suggests this. They know each other by now. They know the boys that they were long ago, and they have since learned their new versions, of the adults that they've grown into. Both of them keep their cards close to their chest in many ways, but the friendship is still there and Huaisang trusts to that connection.]

The other merchants are displeased about the competition, of course. The grand department store takes all the business from the smaller shops. It centralizes the money, so that the owner of the big store collects all the money that used to be distributed among many smaller shops. That can't be good for an economy. I don't know how I'd solve the problem, if such a thing came to Qinghe.

There are no places for drinking crowds. [Huaisang laughs a little and shakes his head.] Or maybe there are, in more disreputable neighborhoods than I've investigated. I shop at the liquor store and then keep the results in my cupboards. The locals are very disapproving of alcohol, and many of the restaurants don't serve it at all. They're always drinking 'mocktails' and 'virgin' champagne. You'll have to pretend it's Gusu days again and come drink with me in private.

[weifinder]

( He doesn't keep himself from scoffing; not because Huaisang is wrong, but because he can appreciate the nod of his head toward how he is as much as anything. What innocence? At this point in their lives, how much of it do either one of them have?

He sets to dragging the second chair close to but not precisely in fall distance of the bound doll that looks like him, considering tying the two together, back to back. With what rope? It's a problem for later, he decides, turning to give Nie Huaisang a playfully devastated look. )

They've abducted the lot of us and they don't even allow us to drink sociably in public? Nie-xiong, this is horrible!

( As if the alcohol, and not the rest of what Nie Huaisang has shared, is the horrible part. )

I have to admit, at least the worst Gusu handed out were beatings and silence spells, not a loss of... ( he taps a finger against his temple. ) Drinking in private with the windows closed again it is. Or on rooftops, does anyone look up at night here?

[fanoperator]

It is horrible. [Huaisang nods earnestly, eyes wide with his own devastated expression.] This place is twisted and frightening. It requires cheerful compliance but forbids all the things that make such things pleasant! The food is terrible, the tea is terrible, alcohol is against the rules...

[He shudders, and takes a step toward the kitchen to get some liquor from his stash, only to remember that this nearly-identical house isn't his, and they'll have to wait.] I wouldn't risk it, Wei-xiong. Or at least be sure you keep a sharp watch. The monsters that came during the blizzard have still been sighted in the forest. Most of the townsfolk are diligent about going to bed early and getting up early, but anything that is awake and watching at night... I wouldn't want it to notice me, that's for sure.

[weifinder]

( He tsks, then gestures for them to head away from their probably listening doll-selves. He'll need to find wax or something to put into their ears, just in case. )

Nie-xiong, if anyone excels at not being noticed, I'd have to say it's you.

( For many reasons, most of them more situational to back home on one level or another. It's not even a snipe; just matter of fact. They both know each other, and while it might not be to the degree that he and Lan Zhan had an understanding of each other's hearts, it was enough. )

Things that watch at night have some kind of defense during the day, too. Either way, taking no chances, how will that end up? You didn't sound like you were wanting to be directly involved with the winter festival last month, but you were still dragged in, weren't you?

( He sighs, tapping his chin and then shaking his head. He'd also love an alcohol stash to slide into, but he'll have to work on that in the way that Nie Huaisang already has. Things to rectify going forward. )

Nie-xiong, how have things changed for you personally since you woke up here?

[fanoperator]

I don't know that I like that logic, Wei-xiong. Just because I got dragged in anyway in certain ways is no reason to increase the risk by taking more chances.

Personally? [Brow furrowing at the question, Huaisang bites his lower lip.] I'm not sure what you mean. I had a husband and a daughter in October, but then I woke again and that all seemed to be a dream. I had a husband in November, but he vanished as though he had never been. I have a ... casual romantic interest, but it's nothing serious.

[weifinder]

( Huaisang still answers the question he'd been wanting to ask. So there's a shifting landscape in and out of the houes; that makes sense, in its own way. )

You first woke up here in October... I wonder if that means this month will end up feeling like a dream come next.

( When it comes to the casual romantic interest, he ends up... smiling. )

Serious is hard enough when you can depend on waking up in the world you're expecting. I can't imagine how much harder it is in a place like this... for what it's worth, best of happinesses to you.

( Not even asking who it is right now, because if Huaisang wants to say, he trusts he will. )

Though I also meant how're you doing, yourself, but from the way you talked about things before and are talking about them now, you're managing fairly well with the improbable.

[fanoperator]

[Huaisang smiles a little at the reassurance about his romantic life, but there's loneliness in his eyes. Ray has been distant lately. Busy.

Huaisang's used to loneliness.]

Managing fairly well, [he agrees, nodding once.] My job at the department store, and I've been working on selling my paintings and even doing a few murals as decor inside of houses. I'm lonely and scared and homesick, but I'm glad to have made friends here, and to feel like I have a few defenses.

[weifinder]

( There are some things more unfortunate to understand in each other than other things. Loneliness, or its trappings, is one. Particularly when stated outright, which earns more of a serious, studied look from Wei Wuxian. )

... It's been hard on you.

( It's the extent of what he knows how to say, and yes, it's obvious. He can imagine, and this is only weeks into his being here, trying to understand a culture that follows nothing of their own.

Granted, as far as being friendly inclined people, or at least outwardly so, they have that skill in common. Jiang Cheng being here is... something that almost makes him laugh to imagine, in a way both torn and pleased he's not. Lan Zhan, too. )

Well, I don't know how long it's going to take, but I have a vested interest in making sure we both get back home, so. That homesickness won't have to be forever.

( A partial smile, because there are other reasons it might not. He's just not going to dwell on those. )

[fanoperator]

[Huaisang nods, closing his eyes for a moment and not bothering to hide the loneliness and pain for once. He's layered up years upon years of it, all while pretending to be ever more frivolous. Being here alone has been an entirely new trial, adapting to new horrors just when he'd finally thought he had earned his rest.

Perhaps this is what he earned. His sins and mistakes have led him to this hell.

It would almost be an easy excuse to believe that he deserved this, but he can't believe that this is a hell belonging to his own culture. If nothing else, it certainly isn't tailored to his sins.]

I'm grateful to have you here. [If he were to pick one ally from home to have here, it would be Wuxian. Though he might miss his brother more, it's Wuxian who is best suited to this place.]

Wei-xiong, can I... can I hug you?

[He remembers the last time he tried, all those years ago. This time he at least knows to ask first, though he doesn't expect that his friend will agree.]

[weifinder]

( All those years ago, he'd been fragile and frightened of a need to defend himself against people who, in any moment of carelessness, could break him; even Nie Huaisang, more than strong enough to crack ribs if he barely tries, really. The defensiveness of not having his core, of having defended himself for months against resentful energies as likely to kill him as submit to his forced reforging of a sword, his desperate refusal to die.

Here, he blinks, caught by surprise: tries to remember the last time he's been asked. Realises he really never has, just been caught by surprise when Sizhui, his missing son, turned up alive, self announced, and then hugged him before Wei Wuxian could so much as puzzle his way through it.

He's only so much of an emotional dunce, so his lopsided smile is offered along with his arms being held out to his sides, easier to show the action before the words. )

I warn you, I'm boney and terrible at hugs.

( Still too thin, he's seen it in the way Lan Zhan keeps trying to feed him, but it's not a refusal. Just a pre-emptive explanation for why he hesitates, takes time to hug back, before Nie Huaisang lets himself think it's anything about him. )

[fanoperator]

[Deeply grateful and relieved, Huaisang practically pounces him with the hug, squeezing tight but careful. The permission feels a little like forgiveness, but it's something more than that. There are a thousand topics that will remain forever unspoken, an uncrossable void between their selves now and the teenagers who had been friends so long ago, but somehow the emotional chasms they've crossed make them more similar than ever, able to deeply understand each other.

Huaisang trusts Wuxian deeply, but it's not a trust in his honesty or even in his good nature. He trusts Wuxian to act like Wuxian, and knows him well enough to be comfortable with that.

The hug tells him that Wuxian accepts Huaisang for what he is and understands him well enough to be comfortable with that.

Huaisang holds him for a long time. Longer than a polite hug between acquaintances. Longer than a warm hug between family. Huaisang holds him for the length and with the cling of someone who has been touch-starved and lonely for a long time, someone someone who has been through their own personal hell and back, and knows they're not the only one.

When he finally lets go, it's sudden, and he takes a step back with the polite swiftness as though it had been just that brief, quick hug of acquaintances. His bright smile is back in place, as flawless as ever, that perfect approximation of his innocent younger self with no clear delineation of how much of it is who Huaisang really is now. But the two of them are both very experienced with putting on a joyous expression over deep pain.] Don't worry, Wei-xiong! I'll help feed you lots of cake. And meat.

[A brief pause as he considers which of them is more likely to be able to prepare these things.]

At restaurants.