hugtopia_logs | ♥ October (Lasohm) Fourth Wall Log

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♥ October (Lasohm) Fourth Wall Log

kool aid man crashing through a wall then nervously stepping out again

October (Lasohm) Fourth Wall Log

❥ Speaking of Wall Breaking...

The ghosts in town sure are weird, huh? But they're settling down, as the month draws to a close. They're becoming less anxious and random, their behaviour growing sort of… focused. As time passes some of them begin to develop features. They can interact with the world more consistently. You can… hear their voice.

And then suddenly they are people, real and physical and just as confused to be here as you are. They could be anyone, from your world, someone else's world, a place you've never heard of… some of them could even be you, from a different universe, a different timeline, an unknown reality. What does all this mean?

IT'S FOURTH WALL, Y'ALL. Tell your friends, people interested in apping or just playing around in the setting, anybody! Time to break the wall down and have some fun.

This post serves as a replacement for the usual Test Drive Meme, in order to consolidate the chaos a bit. Though it is being posted now, timeline-wise, this shift will occur ONLY during the weekend prior to applications opening: October 30th to November 2nd, after which point characters will either disappear or become permanent residents via the application process. This also means that the rest of the event effects will have worn off, and characters will be their normal selves through the duration of this prompt.

Some ground rules for the 4th Wall event:

For characters/accounts not in-game:

a character does not have to meet application qualifications to post to the 4th Wall Event, except in cases where there is an intent to apply when applications open. Duplicates, CRAU, AU, etc. are permitted for the event.
we do ask that crack shenanigans are reasonably limited, game rules are followed, and that the event involve characters only, not players or real people.
anyone can toplevel! It'll be a free for all. Go wild, have fun.
characters will be given a temporary, low-tech communicator for the duration of the event with limited network access, due to limited availability of the real deal.
you will not arrive with any items/companions beyond the clothes that you wear
check out the Setting or FAQ pages for location details! Also, have a look at the October event log, to see what else is going on these days.

For characters/accounts currently in-game:

players can decide for themselves at the event's conclusion whether or not memories of certain visitors remain, and to what extent; memories could become fuzzy, faces or communication obscured, they could disappear entirely, or they can remain fully intact whether the person apps into the game or not.
network communications with 4th Wall visitors that don't (or can't) app in will be wiped, with the locals citing a data error related to the older communicators being used. Technology can be unpredictable, huh!
any communication exchanges that you WANT to keep can remain with some discretion; for example, if a spouse visits and you happen to take a selfie with them, and they do not (or cannot) app but having that photo of them would give you comfort, feel free to keep it.
Similar to the TDM, 4th wall threads cannot be used for AC or AC Reward purposes unless it is between characters already in-game.

Click the above prompt to expand for details. Timeline-wise, this occurs October 30th to November 2nd. For players currently in-game, if you have any questions, please direct them to the FAQ or to the Mod Question thread on the original plotting post.

On this post, we've created both another Questions Thread and a Toplevel thread (see below) for visiting players, the latter so that anyone can track and see who's posted! When you've made a toplevel, feel free to comment HERE to let everyone know.

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[ A new world, a new set of gods, a new calling. It’s the same shit as usual. ]

Huh, it’s the kid.

[ The remark is casual, amused, not unkind... and it belongs to someone entirely familiar to the dream blitzball player. Should Tidus turn around, he’ll see a tall, unkempt man swaggering out from the shade of a shop awning, lopsided grin set in place, and a wicked-cheerful gleam in his ruby eyes. Muscular arms cross over his broad chest as he sizes up the son he hasn’t seen in a good while, as if looking for anything different, anything that would give him away that he’s but a copy. ]

Didn’t expect t’see ya here.

[ Maybe the others are here. Maybe a few from Spira are here. ]

[ It's practically a curse how well he can recognise that man, no matter where and how. Coarse, deep, rough around the edges. He's indistinguishable, and that's just the way his old man would like it, isn't it.

And Tidus--he should know better after the last few times he's heard him. Don't look, what's the point? Just another one of those echoes.

His reasoning isn't finished before he's turned. Brows raising, the hint of shock mixed with uncertainty. There for a few seconds, then pulled down with the frown on his face for a mask of annoyance, even if he can't manage indifference.

He starts on an exasperated sigh. ] What are you doing here? [ His arms begin to fold, then stop when he recognises how his dad stands. Flops one down and rests his other hand on his side, like that's what he meant to do in the first place. ] Another trick? I got enough of listening to you bein' rowdy already.

[ Sure, he can do this. Talk at a dad that probably isn't real, whatever. His throat doesn't feel the slightest bit tight at all. Listen to how casual he sounds. Unfazed. ]

[ He doesn’t miss the inflection in Tidus’ tone, and that makes him slightly shift his weight where he stands, belts clinking in the process.

The locals tell them that the world beyond the barrier is harsh and unforgiving, but inside this very same barrier is none other than something both more difficult to face and wonderful to accept: family. One that, at once point, he had abandoned but had never forgotten. No, not even when he had been without his memories.

What is he doing here, indeed. Without the impetus to fight for some fragment or crystal or world... suddenly, he doesn’t know anymore.

The grin remains, casual, the drawl in his tone equally lackadaisical. ] Me, rowdy?

[ Dryly: ] Heh, y’must have confused me for someone else.

[ The last time he'd seen him, he wasn't rowdy, was he. A man more subdued, and one Tidus only knew in the same scattered memories as the spheres left in Spira. An image burned in the back of his mind that he last remembers, never been sure if it was his imagination, or real.

As real as either of them could be, in the end.

Now isn't the time to think about that. ]

Guess he was just a figment of my imagination. [ Nonchalant, he tips his head in a dismissive gesture. Wishing he'd folded his arms after all, shifting the angle of how he's turned instead. ] Maybe you're one too. Not that it matters to me -- I'll do what I have to! It's as easy as that.

[ It's a conviction not forced, but sure. That's what their lives were, what they became. Why overcomplicate things? If he's losing it and seeing his dad, if this is really a dream - then he'll break out of it.

Life's gotta do better than think his dad will slow him down. ]

[ At that, his brow shoots up, partly confused, partly disturbed. It’s obvious he doesn’t know of what Tidus is speaking, let alone being implied as fake.

Jecht has never done well to confront (or comfort) others who are in need of help or direction. Arguably, his presence often makes things worse, even when he tries. That’s not to say he won’t try. The distress in Tidus’ voice is grating. It nags at him in an instinctual, perhaps helpless paternal way that he should do something. But what?

Rolling one shoulder back to relax a kink in the joint, he uncrosses his arms and raises a hand. ] Whoa, whoa there, bud. What’s this about “figment of the imagination”?

I’m the real deal. Always will, always have been. [ He wonders if he should be insulted that Tidus is confusing some imaginary Jecht with himself.

Hm. ]

[ He lets out a sound, up going his own hands with a shrug. ]

Okay, so one second I'm seeing you and everyone else, and some other people I don't know walking around, and now I'm in this place? And this isn't some crazy mind trip?

[ Honestly,

it doesn't actually feel like it.

Because the more Tidus stands here talking to Jecht, the feel of air on his skin, the noises of a city familiar but not quite -- it's worrisome. Like time being allowed for a shoddy wallpaper job to start peeling away, and his flimsy reasoning being exposed with it. Everything more complicated when his old man is thrown into his equations.

So much so, that some outer source playing tricks on his mind is easier to deal with than the thought of being confronted by his dad, what he thinks about that. He'd rather not, so instead of giving Jecht the time to argue, Tidus waves a hand out in the open space of the street. The other mix of bodies, mostly metallic, making do with their lives. ]

How about we focus on this for now?

[ The whole being here part? ]

[ At that, Jecht lifts a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing out a sore that has yet to fade. Funny how it remains no matter where he is, who he is, and how much he remembers, dream or otherwise.

Jecht's brow raises further at all the gestures Tidus enacts, attention following the motion of his hands first up then to the side. His eyes snap back to Tidus himself.

Still Tidus, all right. He cocks a grin. Unable to help himself he presses, ] Oi, take a deep breath, kid.

We're here, alright, an' in the flesh. Place is called Alleyn... or somethin'. Just arrived myself.

[ Oh does he want to say something right out when he's told to take a breather. A something else too about being in the flesh, but--you know what, let's ignore that, actually.

(We're cool, we're fine, we're not internally freaked out by our old man standing right there.) ]

Great, just the family reunion I wanted. [ Some sass out of the way, Tidus scans the area, trying to think on a brain running at 25% capacity. Relents on the reluctance that springs in his throat and asks- ] You hear anything else?

[ Why is he asking him...! He could just start asking all these machina-things walking around! ]

[ He places his hands upon his hips, shoulders rising with an inhale that borders upon irked. What is he, an encyclopedia?

But also this: it's not as if he was paying much attention when the deities' priests gave their spiel. ]

Uh... Somethin' about touch saving the world.

[ It's said with all the amusement of a squeezed lemon peel. ] Y'know. Like what you already did back... [ A pause. ] home.

[ Spira.

Sin's giant ass, it has been a long while. ]

[ Home. Isn't that a complex word. But the part about touching being included furrows his brows, holds him for longer. ]

Touch? It took a lot more than that to save Spira. [ And, does he really need to say this? If he's trying to act like this isn't quite real- ] It's been months since then.

[ But he'll drop it, casual-like, if casual means lowkey wound up. But this is an annoying situation, right? ]

I was kinda in the middle of saving worlds already.

[ In all this time, he's yet to learn how to speak with his own son. However, Jecht knows his tells, both the bravado he can show and the casual lightness in his tone....

If it's one thing that's true, Tidus did save Spira. If it were Jecht who saved the world, he'd be letting everyone know about it. The damn kid is too humble.

Jecht tilts his head ever so slightly to the side, just enough that a dark lock of his mane falls over his ear. ]

...Were you, huh.

[ It's an open invitation to speak. Ya know, like normal people. Too bad it may come off as a little condescending. ]

[ Speak, like normal people? As if it wasn't a struggle trying to find his footing in this conversation in the first place. How to act. His ambers for the man have cooled with the last time they saw each other, what Spira became for them.

But it doesn't fix them as people, or as family-- a clumsiness that's hard to navigate. ]

What, that's it? [ And his old man being aloof is the last thing to help. ] Shouldn't you be telling me I've lost it or somethin'?

Well, I ain't gonna tell you good job for being in the process of saving the world. [ He huffs, giving the boy a dubious look. ] Next thing you know, you'll be wanting a trophy for every little accomplishment along the way.

[ Never the mind that "saving the world" isn't a little accomplishment.

And that that is not Tidus' point, either. It probably went over Jecht's head. ]

Wha'? [ His brow knits, eyes incredulous on his dad. ] Where do you get that? Did you miss the memo what happened after Sin?

[ --does he have to spell it out? And what's even with this low-effort insult? Tidus stares, more confused than anything. ]

A'ight, I'll bite. What happened.

[ X-2 did happen.

He wasn't there for most of it.

He was fighting for Chaos against Cosmos, then for Cosmos. Then later, their other one-off battleground state. ]

[ Does he need to spell it out? The absurdity isn't lost from him, but there's a hesitation, a shuffle in place, his limbs no longer impatient but apprehensive. Tidus speaks, more subdued than before- ]

What did you think was gonna happen once we beat it? To us.

[ Was he clueless?

And he isn't sure, what his old man would or wouldn't know. But realises that doesn't make sense when he came to Zanarkand, was the one to take him to Spira in the first place.

Shouldn't everything he's saying spark some other kind of reaction? ]

[ Jecht's jaw lock with thought as he considers Tidus' words.

Disappear, probably, were it not being called into another battleground war, or being scuttled to the Farplane.

He thought that was obvious. So he replies obtusely, ]

A big damn celebration. Champagne. A parade. Y'know.

Shove your fireworks! [ No one can spike his mood like his dad, huh--apparently, ten years hasn't changed that. They just didn't get the time before the last final fights of their lives to experience it: Tidus's fists clenching, exasperation out his throat. ] I'm tryna be serious here!

I tell you it's been three months, and you don't blink an eye? That's the last time I saw you! Everyone!

[ Bah! ]

[ Three months.

At that, he grins. ]

Aw, you're saying you missed me? I'm touched.

[ He wants to obliterate this old man!!! ]

Like a blitzball to the face! [ FIGHT HIM. He takes a few steps away, body language showing him ready to get going. ] You do whatever you want. I'm gonna find out what's really going on and deal with you later!

[ Take that!! Tidus starts to walk, but pauses when he thinks to shout- ]

Say hi to mom for me!

[ TIME TO OLLIE OUT into a possible timeskip. ]

[ What a blessing in disguise it is for Tidus to turn right then and there. Tidus' mother-- Jecht's late wife-- yet remains a sensitive topic, one that he's rarely had the time to speak about with others. Frankly, he's not exactly ready to.

So he takes his leave then as well...

It's evening. Tidus might be minding his own business. It would probably be the best chance for a father to approach his son with open arms and an open ear to listen, but instead: ] Look sharp, kid!

[ That's the only warning he'll get before a ball comes flying in his direction, courtesy of a powerful kick given from Jecht atop one of the buildings. Having found the ball within one of the shops, it's not the same density of a professionally sanctioned blitzball, but it'll do.

Jecht leaps off the building, falling into a crouch upon the street. ]

[ Mmmmaybe this isn't a dream after all.

Not that something being a dream means Tidus needs to act rational, reasonable, either of the two. He's spent his whole life being impulsive and ruled by his emotions. Why be any different now?

But with the desire to find answers, Tidus scours the city, answers finding him. The emergence of newcomers in an unusual manner has the welcome committee on alert, to give them the rundown, basic devices for communication. Why they're there, or must be, just like the rest.

'To exchange physical contact'. Like, what?

It's beyond peeving, and he doesn't want to even think about his dad. The possibility that he's actually here, existing, real-- why. At least it's been a while since he's seen him, and so maybe he can just ignore that he was ever--

'Look sharp, kid!' ]

[ okay so nevermind.

The warning catches in his ears, and for a second he's oblivious. A second he thankfully has to spare, when his mind, long as its been, is well-trained to the sight of spherical objects coming to smash him in the face (he might later realise the joke Jecht was going for here). And what blitz ace would he be not to roll on instinct, the ball hitting the ground where his shadow had occupied. Bouncing back up with the momentum, hopping a few times before coming to a slow roll on the concrete.

Tidus snaps to attention to watch it, then looks back, and it's there in his shoulders: an insatiable urge to shake Jecht and never stop. Better than holding a conversation with the man. Tidus picks himself back up on his feet, failing to find anything he wants to say to him. He's certainly not going to say he was right about the touch thing.

So, dryly: ]

Thought you'd be gone.

[ Jecht straights up from the crouch, stretching out his neck and shoulders with a habitual roll of them both. While his grin carries the same confidence of the before, his eyes are sincere. Blitzball is at least one thing they have in common, and the ball he had kicked in his son's direction is the proverbial olive branch.

That, and being apart for months or years at a time, to no fault of Tidus'. His words highlight that Jecht being gone is a thing that happens all too often. ]

Yeah, well. You ain't gonna get rid of me that easily.

[ His laugh is deep, and then after a slight, awkward pause: ]

Toss it back, why dontcha?

[ They can... play catch. Or kickball, while they talk. It'll give them something to do, if words fail them on how to broach any subject. The ball will cross the chasm between them. ]

You really wanna start playing catch? In a shopping street?

[ That doesn't mean Tidus isn't scooping up the ball, rolling it between two hands. Wondering where Jecht found it, but then--it might be like back home, or in Spira. Balls just wherever, easy to knock into.

But ball games aren't what are in his mind. Not because of the where - as if that would bother either of him - but, well. Where to even begin? ]

Tossing a ball won't make the gods happy.

[ Not to be slightly smarmy -- but then again: why not? When Jecht's been annoyingly obtuse so far. ]

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♥ October (Lasohm) Fourth Wall Log

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