[ mm... to vote someone to a death is a decision weighted as heavily as any other. the complications of their situation are many, and as flayn points out, sometimes the person who does the killing doesn't have any other choice.
(but he knows from experience, how the guilt weighs on you anyway. when it's all said and done, a person who felt remorse would want to be under that blade.)
he looks over at flayn and away from the fire itself, brows furrowed, expression troubled. ] ...but, it doesn't change how difficult such a decision is. [ yin yu finishes the sentence, grimly: he's of the same opinion.
these 'trials' feel like playing at one of the gods, the kind of dalliance a heavenly official would look upon with plain-faced duty, maybe even with pity. yin yu doesn't like it, but for his own safety, and for, perhaps, the mercy of the execution of someone compelled, he will do what has to be done. if not for compulsion, then for someone who saw their chance and struck, someone who could easily strike again. for safety. just like before, they have to play the game until they can find a way out.
he has to keep telling himself, it's to try and prevent such violence from repeating. to keep each other safe. that's all they've done since this started. if there's someone among this group who's willing to kill just for the sake of it - like there had to be on the island - then that person needs to be eliminated with the kind of clinical efficiency that he's known since working for chengzhu.
ever since his descension, it has always been easier for yin yu to turn his emotions off, like a faucet. pretending they aren't there and hiding them behind his mask makes it easier to function, because the crushing weight of his actions and guilt, his overthinking, his misery, might have put him in a grave before anything else. in situations like this, the purpose chengzhu gave him gave him the ability to step beyond it and be useful, so tomorrow, he'll put his mask on and be clinical, careful, observant, the xianxianyue officer at his finest.
...but that's tomorrow. today, he sits with flayn in front of this bonfire, mask off, and lets the troubles brew as quietly as he can keep them. ] ...it will be alright. [ yin yu says, quietly, threading some of that determination into his voice, to make himself believe it, too. ] It has to be.
Because if it isn't, where does that leave any of them?
None of them will be able to sleep easily tonight - in fact, it is likely that many of them have not slept easily since the first night on the bus. The possibility that exactly this would come to pass has been hanging over them for nearly a week, and now that it has, the possibility of failure hangs over them, all the more stifling.
If they don't identify Tsurumaru's killer - if whoever did this is left to walk the camp freely...
Flayn thinks of Ookurikara and Lili, and her expression hardens somewhat. For Tsurumaru's sake, and for their sakes, they have to find the truth of what transpired last night. The three of them deserve no less than that.]
It will be.
[She takes a breath.]
If there was only one killer - it is one of them against thirty-nine of us. Even if they had an accomplice, we still outnumber them. We will figure this out.
it's hard to be optimistic, but for flayn's sake, he wants to be. his mind is on much of the same; yin yu had spent the hour before he was forced to sleep as close to panic as he ever comes, trying every possible method he could to get out. the doors suddenly locking set off the alarm bells, and lili banging on the door freaked out about the missing tsurumaru had only made it worse. she'd told him the day before with such sureness that she would be with ookurikara and tsurumaru alike, and that they would be safe. and just like that, they weren't. knowing that there were people-- lili, ookurikara, dimitri, tsurumaru, flayn--trapped outside had been a single, crystal clear moment of utter terror, mixed into the ever brewing feeling of being useless. it was the longest hour of his life; and in natural fashion, it ended as disastrously as such an event could have predicted.
the statement hangs in the air for a moment, just the sound of the flickering of the fire to fill the night. it's not tentative hope, so much as it is resolve. it has to be. flayn's assurance of it makes it even stronger. working together, just like on the island, they can try and fix this mess.
(but even in working together, there were casualties. there were bodies, an ominous, cynical reminder that won't go away, no matter the positive platitudes they can say.)
stuck in this situation, they have to do what it takes to survive, and protect as many lives that they can. it's all that can be done. for now, all they can do is wait, much like the night before. how frustrating. in this moment of quiet, reflecting on the night before, it feels like standing on the chasm of something too big, an endless sense of anticipation, too many things to think about to properly say, too many actions to want to take and absolutely nothing any of them will do to find resolution.
it reads on yin yu's face, brows furrowed, one hand up near his mouth, discontent, and in the end, he can't come up with anything to say as he dips into the darkness of those feelings in a way he hasn't in some time. ]
[Flayn wants to reassure him, but there's nothing either of them can say at this point that they haven't already. What has happened last night cannot be changed. What will come tomorrow, they cannot yet know.
She sighs.
And then she reaches up for his hand to take it gently in hers. He's wearing gloves, still, so it's fine. And perhaps it's too forward, but... having him here with her is the one thing that's helped so far. So to have him a little closer...
...well, she hopes it will bring him even a fraction of the comfort it brings her.
She doesn't speak, because she doesn't know what to say, but she's here.]
[ yin yu is not really a touchy person. he tends to keep a bubble, a wide berth as far away from others as possible. he'd burned every bridge to every single contact he'd had, on purpose, or on accident, except for hua cheng. erased himself from existence as existence had erased who he used to be, and ran as far from it as possible. the only person who ever seemed to burst that bubble was quan yizhen, and he forced his way through it as he did all things, leaving him stranded behind in the glory of his sunlight. getting close to anyone was not in the cards for the person he has become, and he'd had no intention of that either, when he'd arrived on the island.
two weeks later, that had changed. bonds were formed, some stronger than others, forged by the simple kindness of other people, anchoring him to existence when he tried to slide away, by a desire to survive together, to defeat an evil. three weeks later, he stands with the others on the precipice of something familiar and wholly unknown at the same time, by the sides of many of those people.
it is something to keep him here. not as the xianxianyue officer, masked and anonymous, but as yin yu. a person that the world forgot.
for a long moment, he doesn't move.
but, slowly, he relaxes, and yin yu squeezes her hand. ]
She is not someone who is accustomed to solitude, not really. Seclusion, perhaps - with one other person, or perhaps two - but not solitude. The moments she wakes and finds herself truly alone are the most terrifying, and she has always done everything in her power to avoid them.
It would be so easy to feel alone here, but she isn't, and she knows that she isn't.
Even here, she isn't alone. She could have been - if there was any justice in this world or any other, Yin Yu and Dimitri and all the people she's grown attached to in the week since their arrival wouldn't be here. But they are, and he's here, and each time they meet it feels like he lets her in just a little more.
It means more to her than she can say.
They sit in silence for a long while, until - finally - she speaks very softly.]
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fishingforcompliments) wrote2020-06-06 12:53 pm
no subject
(but he knows from experience, how the guilt weighs on you anyway. when it's all said and done, a person who felt remorse would want to be under that blade.)
he looks over at flayn and away from the fire itself, brows furrowed, expression troubled. ] ...but, it doesn't change how difficult such a decision is. [ yin yu finishes the sentence, grimly: he's of the same opinion.
these 'trials' feel like playing at one of the gods, the kind of dalliance a heavenly official would look upon with plain-faced duty, maybe even with pity. yin yu doesn't like it, but for his own safety, and for, perhaps, the mercy of the execution of someone compelled, he will do what has to be done. if not for compulsion, then for someone who saw their chance and struck, someone who could easily strike again. for safety. just like before, they have to play the game until they can find a way out.
he has to keep telling himself, it's to try and prevent such violence from repeating. to keep each other safe. that's all they've done since this started. if there's someone among this group who's willing to kill just for the sake of it - like there had to be on the island - then that person needs to be eliminated with the kind of clinical efficiency that he's known since working for chengzhu.
ever since his descension, it has always been easier for yin yu to turn his emotions off, like a faucet. pretending they aren't there and hiding them behind his mask makes it easier to function, because the crushing weight of his actions and guilt, his overthinking, his misery, might have put him in a grave before anything else. in situations like this, the purpose chengzhu gave him gave him the ability to step beyond it and be useful, so tomorrow, he'll put his mask on and be clinical, careful, observant, the xianxianyue officer at his finest.
...but that's tomorrow. today, he sits with flayn in front of this bonfire, mask off, and lets the troubles brew as quietly as he can keep them. ] ...it will be alright. [ yin yu says, quietly, threading some of that determination into his voice, to make himself believe it, too. ] It has to be.
no subject
Because if it isn't, where does that leave any of them?
None of them will be able to sleep easily tonight - in fact, it is likely that many of them have not slept easily since the first night on the bus. The possibility that exactly this would come to pass has been hanging over them for nearly a week, and now that it has, the possibility of failure hangs over them, all the more stifling.
If they don't identify Tsurumaru's killer - if whoever did this is left to walk the camp freely...
Flayn thinks of Ookurikara and Lili, and her expression hardens somewhat. For Tsurumaru's sake, and for their sakes, they have to find the truth of what transpired last night. The three of them deserve no less than that.]
It will be.
[She takes a breath.]
If there was only one killer - it is one of them against thirty-nine of us. Even if they had an accomplice, we still outnumber them. We will figure this out.
no subject
he hopes.
it's hard to be optimistic, but for flayn's sake, he wants to be. his mind is on much of the same; yin yu had spent the hour before he was forced to sleep as close to panic as he ever comes, trying every possible method he could to get out. the doors suddenly locking set off the alarm bells, and lili banging on the door freaked out about the missing tsurumaru had only made it worse. she'd told him the day before with such sureness that she would be with ookurikara and tsurumaru alike, and that they would be safe. and just like that, they weren't. knowing that there were people-- lili, ookurikara, dimitri, tsurumaru, flayn--trapped outside had been a single, crystal clear moment of utter terror, mixed into the ever brewing feeling of being useless. it was the longest hour of his life; and in natural fashion, it ended as disastrously as such an event could have predicted.
the statement hangs in the air for a moment, just the sound of the flickering of the fire to fill the night. it's not tentative hope, so much as it is resolve. it has to be. flayn's assurance of it makes it even stronger. working together, just like on the island, they can try and fix this mess.
(but even in working together, there were casualties. there were bodies, an ominous, cynical reminder that won't go away, no matter the positive platitudes they can say.)
stuck in this situation, they have to do what it takes to survive, and protect as many lives that they can. it's all that can be done. for now, all they can do is wait, much like the night before. how frustrating. in this moment of quiet, reflecting on the night before, it feels like standing on the chasm of something too big, an endless sense of anticipation, too many things to think about to properly say, too many actions to want to take and absolutely nothing any of them will do to find resolution.
it reads on yin yu's face, brows furrowed, one hand up near his mouth, discontent, and in the end, he can't come up with anything to say as he dips into the darkness of those feelings in a way he hasn't in some time. ]
no subject
She sighs.
And then she reaches up for his hand to take it gently in hers. He's wearing gloves, still, so it's fine. And perhaps it's too forward, but... having him here with her is the one thing that's helped so far. So to have him a little closer...
...well, she hopes it will bring him even a fraction of the comfort it brings her.
She doesn't speak, because she doesn't know what to say, but she's here.]
no subject
two weeks later, that had changed. bonds were formed, some stronger than others, forged by the simple kindness of other people, anchoring him to existence when he tried to slide away, by a desire to survive together, to defeat an evil. three weeks later, he stands with the others on the precipice of something familiar and wholly unknown at the same time, by the sides of many of those people.
it is something to keep him here. not as the xianxianyue officer, masked and anonymous, but as yin yu. a person that the world forgot.
for a long moment, he doesn't move.
but, slowly, he relaxes, and yin yu squeezes her hand. ]
no subject
She is not someone who is accustomed to solitude, not really. Seclusion, perhaps - with one other person, or perhaps two - but not solitude. The moments she wakes and finds herself truly alone are the most terrifying, and she has always done everything in her power to avoid them.
It would be so easy to feel alone here, but she isn't, and she knows that she isn't.
Even here, she isn't alone. She could have been - if there was any justice in this world or any other, Yin Yu and Dimitri and all the people she's grown attached to in the week since their arrival wouldn't be here. But they are, and he's here, and each time they meet it feels like he lets her in just a little more.
It means more to her than she can say.
They sit in silence for a long while, until - finally - she speaks very softly.]
...thank you, Yin Yu.