logsinthenight | EVENT LOG: GRAVES

EVENT LOG: GRAVES

EVENT LOG:
GRAVES

characters: everyone.
location: Bonfire Square.
date/time: July 12-19.
content: mysterious shrines appear and bring visions of death.
warnings: likely violence and potentially gore.

time to pay your respects.

It happens when no one is looking, when most of the town is asleep and the rest are inside. A makeshift cemetery has come to Beacon, taking up residence in the middle of Bonfire Square. Each monument, shrine, and altar is dedicated to someone who now resides here, a memorial of their previous life.

Some may be drawn by curiosity, others by fear, and some may simply have to pass through this strange graveyard to get to the Bonfire itself. Whenever a person gets near, the altars beckon with a mysterious urge— an urge to approach, and an urge to leave something behind. They will feel compelled to make offerings at the various shrines, but doing so has a curious effect; it causes one to experience the death of the person whose grave they've honored.

Whether you resist the compulsion or give in willingly (or something in between), you'll also have to wrestle with the fact that a grave exists for you. Will you let your death be known, or try your best to keep it secret? Destroying it sure won't work, as it will return— with a duplicate somewhere else in town.

However you choose to deal with this, one thing is hard to ignore— this a tangible reminder of your death, and the fact that it's probably permanent.

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The grave of a Grandmaster is shockingly plain. Simple. Traditional. The way he would have wanted. A stone front that bows out to create a small recess where someone could conceivably kneel and meditate with the back portion covered in grass.

The central plaque reads:
快涼
大师林鬼

((OOC: you can watch the beginning part here))

They've been gearing up for this fight for days now, finally taking the battle to Kronika and perhaps ending this once and for all. So why doesn't it feel like all the other battles he's been in? Probably because nothing about this is right. Raiden has fused with Liu Kang to give him godlike powers. He's fighting side by side with Kitana Kahn, as she leads the armies of Outworld.

And Hanzo isn't here.

Scorpion is, and that's something. But it's nowhere near the same. Fighting with him is like fighting with a stranger, not like with his fellow Grandmaster who seemed to anticipate Kuai's moves and they could work around each other, almost like a dance.

He hasn't even had time to properly mourn.

And there wouldn't be any time if Kronika wasn't dealt with. She'd reverse history, put them back at the beginning and they'd relive this all over again. Repeated for eternity.

The boat he's on crashes into the shore, the blood ocean spraying gore as Kharon runs it aground and drops the gangplank down onto their enemies. Kuai is off immediately, manifesting an axe in his hand and freezing the wooden plank to slide down to the ground. The few enemies in his path are promptly frozen and shattered without a second glance as he makes his way through the mob towards the huge door leading to the bridge.

Behind him Scorpion disappears in a whirlwind of fire to reappear somewhere far away and there's a momentary pang as Kuai watches him go. This isn't Grandmaster Hasashi. They won't be fighting together.

But then all his attention is back on the battle, the hoardes of Oni, Netherrealm demons, seem to be infinite, and by the time they've beaten them back to the door there's been heavy casualties of Kung Lao's Shaolin and Kitana Kahn's Tarkatan and Shokan forces.

Kuai keeps fighting. His skill is impeccable, freezing and slicing and shattering any enemies that get close enough to be within range. Every so often he'll send a ball of ice towards something further afield, freezing a demon that would have skewered Scorpion from behind, or shooting icicles at one that had leapt towards Kung Lao. Even as he fights his own battle he's still fully aware of what's going on around him and how the others are faring.

With the power of both fire and lightning Liu Kang melts the door and they're able to access the bridge, but the ground is narrow here, treacherous. The demons are trying their best to knock everyone off to be splattered on the ground far, far below. And there's so many more of them, a never ending funnel of Oni who only want to rip and tear and destroy.

It doesn't take long before the kombatants are overwhelmed. Liu Kang, Kitana and Kung Lao have made it to the entrance of the keep and that's what matters, but behind them chaos ensues. The bridge piles up with bodies blocking their way even as more demons climb over it to get at them.

Kuai is grabbed from behind and immediately explodes into a shower of icicles, knocking everything around him back so he can regain his footing and resume the attack. A few more demons to add to his body count, but this fight was doomed from the beginning, and most of them knew it. All it takes is a single demon landing one good hit and Kuai stumbles, an arm instinctively wrapping around his side as gore starts to spill out. He grimaces, closing his eyes and freezing the wound to stop the bleeding. It won't save him, the injury is clearly fatal, but it does give him a few more precious moments of fighting, of giving Liu Kang the time he needs to get to Kronika.

The trio is past the door now, they're inside the keep and hopefully taking the fight directly to the master of time herself.

There's a certain liberty in knowing you're about to die. Kuai doesn't need to hold back. There's no sense conserving his energy or holding back on his powers. Another burst of icicles, shards impaling the enemies around him and he kneels down, one hand on the ground as fog rolls around him. Twisting his fingers he coaxes it up higher, the mist coalescing into a bluish aura of energy that he smashes into the ground, huge spikes of ice shooting up for a good distance around him, impaling enemies and knocking those who tried to avoid it off the bridge.

He's bleeding again, but he doesn't have time to fix it now. The fight continues, ice and blood everywhere. But eventually all battles must end.

A demon rakes him across the back, blood gushing out and then crystallizing around the wound as it freezes. But it's enough. Kuai stumbles and drops to his knees, trying to get his bearings and fight back again. He never gets a chance as demons close in, ripping and tearing and eventually throwing the pieces of what used to be the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei off the side of the bridge to join the gore in the cavern below.

Kuai has found his own grave, and those of others, and by now he knows what will happen. He's not going to stop anyone from interacting with it, but he also isn't going to stay there and watch as someone witnesses his own death.

He's fairly morose, knowing you're dead and being confronted with your own mortality are two different things. Also there is the very sudden, gut-punching knowledge that the Lin Kuei die with him. He was the last one. Smoke is a revenant and Cyrax is offline. There aren't any others.

The clan is no more.

Oddly enough, he did not go out actively seeking Kuai's grave, at least not at first. He mostly stalked around the others like a ghostly shadow. That is until he found his own, which both infuriated and intrigued him. The Lin Kuei symbol carved underneath the name of his former self was the infuriating part.

He took the rest of the time avoiding the general area of his grave marker, and it was then that he stumbled upon Kuai's. He wasn't sure if he was subconsciously looking for it or he just happened to stumble upon it. Either way it didn't matter.

His movements paused and he stared down, partly tempted to destroy the marker if only for the annoying inscription and Lin Kuei symbol. But he almost seemed frozen, unable to move and didn't seem to notice the shadow clone split from his form and knee beside the grave.

Nor did he notice it drop something at the grave, which he should have as they were essentially the same person. He was just far too focused on the grave itself so when the vision itself hit him he stumbled, dropping down to one knee.

It wasn't the death itself or that he cared, his mind simply became overwhelmed with a lot of sensations some of which he hadn't felt in quite awhile.

Was that how Kuai died? Demons could brutal and this death was no different than ones he's seen in the Netherrealm. Experiencing it was another story though.

There was only one marker that Hanzo felt compelled to visit. Once he’d made the correlation between the names and those present in the town, he knew that, inevitably, he would end up there.

It was strange to think that he had never truly experienced mourning. He had spent years trapped in a cycle of hatred and grief and rage, in the hope of finding justice for the wife and child he’d lost. He had cut down countless in their name, committed atrocities for the sake of vengeance, but that was not true mourning. There was no solace in violence, much though he tried to find it there.

It pained him to think of it now, but… they’d never actually had graves of their own.

That Beacon was lacking in supplies was no real supplies, but it did present certain obstacles; tradition had needed to be bent somewhat, though given the circumstances, he imagined that it could be forgiven. Incense were reliant on fire, even if they’d had them. He had already heard Kuai’s… opinions on the tea, and the notion of leaving anything edible seemed erroneous anyway; the markers spoke of deaths past, and those they represented still walked among them. Still, he felt it only appropriate that he leave an offering, out of respect.

He set his lantern down and knelt in front of the stone marker, placing a small paper frog, nowhere near perfect, among the other offerings. It felt a bit ridiculous now, but he had worked with what he had — Perhaps not traditional, but a relic of the man he’d been once, and the one Kuai had helped him to become again. One who could think of his family without losing himself all over again.

Origami was a skill Harumi had tried to teach him, though he’d participated more for the way she’d laughed at his attempts, than out of any real interest in the art. His hands were better suited to more deadly pursuits, but she had always been patient with him. This was the only one he remembered; she’d often tucked one away for him, with the insistence that it was meant to ensure one returned safely from their travels.

It was too late for that now, for all of them. Seeing the name carved above the Lin Kuei symbol was proof enough of that.

He had yet to speak with anyone about the appearance of the graveyard, and thus, was unprepared when the vision hit him. It took a moment before he fully understood what was happening, thrown by seeing the familiar setting from eyes that were not his own. Everything about it was wrong, invasive somehow — He knew he shouldn’t be seeing this, feeling emotions that were not his to experience.

As it ended, Hanzo drew back from the grave as though the earth itself had burned him from touching it. And perhaps it should have — It was trespassing of the worst sort, and even now, he was having difficulty trying to extricate his own thoughts from the onslaught of those brought on by the marker. It seemed a cruel joke, to bear witness to a battle he should have been part of, and yet, remain powerless to change its outcome. As his younger self had been forced to see his future end, now he felt firsthand the grief his passing had wrought.

Maybe it was for the best that Kuai was not present. Hanzo knew that he should see him, especially if he had experienced something similar; undoubtedly, the other man would have sought to do the same as he had, and likely be met with similar results.

But not yet.

Pikachu is shellshocked. He didn't mean to see this, and he feels like he shouldn't have. Kuai doesn't exactly seem like a big 'sharer' when it comes to personal moments. He wavers on his feet before having to drop onto all fours, ears flopping down low.

"I, uh,...."

A swallow.

"....I'm sorry."

He sighs, sitting down cross-legged next to the downed Pokemon. He'd only been walking by when he'd spotted him, yellow fur standing out in sharp contrast to the gloom around them. He didn't want to linger by his own grave it seemed... Unwise somehow.

But he eyed it now, to have something to look at that wasn't the small slumped over figure next to him, "There is nothing to apologize for. We are all seeing things we would rather not. And we all died before coming here."

Knowing that isn't the same as seeing though. As feeling someone elses emotions.

"It will be alright. Eventually."

"You, uh, you never get shaken by anything, do you?"

It's partially an attempt at deflection through a joke. It's easier than going into the feels, right? But there's truth there. This guy never seems to be thrown. Not by death. Not by some weird afterlife town with no light...not by small electric rodents.

"I do, I just don't show it." He smiles faintly, "In my world being surprised can often lead to being killed. So I try to be prepared for anything."

Death. Afterlife town with no light. Electric rodents. Anything.

His expression softens a little as he continues, "It's not always effective, though I've had decades of practice."

Kuai has never been too good at keeping emotions off his face, though he has mastered keeping his voice even so at least while speaking nothing he's thinking is betrayed.

The singular pale blue-gray stone, crossed with lines of crystalline minerals, was a surprise find among the tiny dark pebbles. Even harder to find was Kuai's grave, for although he has learned to recognize that the man's language looks similar to the one he knows, there are others here with the same script. So he tries all three, naturally, and keeps the stone in his pocket, first placing down a few freshwater mussel shells as an offering to test the ownership.

The first is Kuai's own by pure luck, it turns out. And the scene is pure horror - ships encrusted with skeletal giants, on a literal sea of blood. Their war is truly against monsters, and not the men he's battled who are called monsters but still human, fishman, or another type of person underneath.

But it isn't the battle that he feels, as Kuai fights his way through the horde. What he feels most is the man's longing for someone who isn't there. And he can't help but wonder, as things begin to fall apart - would it all have gone differently if this Hasahashi had been there with him? Can two men turn that tide together, rather than apart?

Probably not, realistically, seeing what they were up against. The depth of their partnership is something he has never felt, himself, and expects he never will. Whatever happened to result in Kuai regarding that Scorpion as a stranger runs through the whole vision like a broken cord, something to be fumbled along that doesn't really go together the way it should.

When it ends, he places the white-laced stone down beside the shells, and sits, rather than leaving immediately. He'll go on his own time. If Kuai finds him before then, that's all right too. The weight of so many deaths experienced in the last few days is starting to wear on him and he needs a moment to get over this one.]

He hasn't been lingering by his grave, it seemed in poor taste somehow. Even though he knew he wasn't buried in there, for one because he was standing right here, but also there wouldn't have been a way to retrieve his body, something about interacting with his own grave seemed wrong.

But while walking around solemnly and looking at the graves of others he does keep coming back to it. This time someone is in front of it.

He stands there silently for a moment, arms behind his back as he watches the candles flicker.

"Dying in battle is what I always desired. Unlike many, I at least got that."

Honorable to a fault. Rosinante understands the warrior sentiment there, shared by soldiers across a multitude of worlds, it seems. He understands it, but he has never shared it. Oh, he expected there was a good chance he would die in a firefight with pirates but it wasn't what he had wished for. Still, it's what he got anyway.

"That makes both of us," he replies with a slow shake of his head. Both died in battle, that is, but he'll leave it vague. "Your battle was immensely larger than any I've seen."

"The armies of the Netherrealm are nearly endless, we were badly outnumbered. But it was all we could do." There wasn't any other option; they could either fight, or allow Kronika to restart time and reshape all their destinies to likely disastrous results. If Raiden was to be believed she'd already done it hundreds of times and none of them were the wiser. Hundreds of lifetimes that were all slightly different until she got the outcome she wanted.

Sometimes he wondered what those other lives had been like for him.

"I don't know the outcome. I truly hope we were victorious, but the odds were never in our favor. I suppose, being here, that I will never know."

And that's a hard thing to live with.

"No. We're all to be left wondering how the worlds move on without us," he says with a slight nod. It's unpleasant, he'll agree to that as well.

"Do you mind if I ask about one person, though? I believe you said he was here, the other Grandmaster. Is he faring well enough?"

As in, what's his deal? In the vision, someone else had fought under his presumed title if he was understanding things right. The one here must be the one Kuai felt the absence of so strongly.

It's rare that Kuai is caught off guard, but this is one of those times. His eyes shoot to the headstones, just what exactly were people seeing?

"Grandmaster Hasashi, yes." He's stalling, trying to recall what he'd been thinking before he died. He hasn't rewatched his own death, it seemed unnecessary, but now he's wishing he had. Had he been thinking about Hanzo? He didn't think so, but maybe. Oh no.

"He's fine. Or as well as any of us can be after death. He died before me, before that final battle." That is not what Rosinante is asking and he knows it. "I'm not sure what you saw but the man in yellow, Scorpion, that is a younger version of him. We were fighting a Titan with the power to fracture and manipulate time."

"Ah. Yes, that's what I was wondering. I was trying to work out if it was perhaps a title passed on to another."

God, but that's crushing, and he lets out a breath slowly. In some ways, Rosinante recognizes that he's fortunate that he was the one who died first, of those few he was close to. If Law had been the one to die out there in the snow, he's not sure he would have found the strength to go on. It would have broken him. Kuai, though, lost that person he was close to, and then had to live through a version of the man who didn't have the bond they must have formed later, through the joint defense of their world. No wonder his thoughts were so focused on Grandmaster Hasashi.

"Then - as difficult as death is, I'm glad you were able to find him again here," he says with sincerity.

Well that confirms that Kuai had definitely been thinking about Hanzo. That's oddly embarrassing. He didn't mind others seeing his death, but he had failed to consider the emotional aspect of it, that they would feel what he felt.

Too late now.

His voice softens as he replies, "As am I." He almost leaves it there, feeling odd saying any of this outloud. But eventually he continues, "We were enemies at the time that Kronika pulled him from. I also initially thought he was the one who had killed Grandmaster Hasashi, so I attacked him. And he has no reason to trust me."

Fighting alongside a stranger that you've known for decades was a distressing experience.

"Attacked him... here?" Hence, has no reason, instead of had? Or is Kuai still thinking of that time before death as the present? Rosinante can't blame him if so. It must be exceptionally confusing with the time travel thrown in.

Also, how many stories of time travel has he heard now? At least two, possibly three. It must be more common than he would have thought, much like magic. These people live in such strange and difficult worlds.

"No I.." He trails off realizing he's confusing the issue. He hasn't had cause to speak outloud about this to anyone and now that he is, all the emotions are coming back and he takes a moment to stuff them all back down and maintain his frozen exterior.

"No back in my world. I attacked the younger version because I thought he had killed Grandmaster Hasashi. I was wrong - he hadn't. But the damage was done." His voice is soft as he recounts that meeting, not liking to admit to his mistakes, but too honest to lie about them. "It is in the past now. And since I'm dead there's nothing more to be done."

There's another long pause as he looks elsewhere, "I hope he is well."

He nods his understanding. Yes, that makes more sense. It's interesting, too, how Kuai seems to struggle with this, when in every previous conversation he seemed to be fairly measured, composed. Confident. Thoughts of the other man make Kuai's mind fix on that subject until the rest is tuned out. That's one hell of an emotional attachment.

"He's well here. That's what matters now. There's nothing we can do about the worlds we left behind," he reminds Kuai patiently, because he knows it's what he reminds himself when he's worrying about Law. Law, however, is a child, all alone and terrified. Not a grown man and a warrior. Perhaps he was slow to realize at first, but the nature of Kuai's interest is becoming clearer to him.

"You are right, as you often have been." In their conversations Rosinante has proven to be competent, well thought out and with a mind for planning. He was also remarkably perceptive, which in this case may not be precisely what Kuai would have liked. There's nothing to be done about it now, at least he's someone that Kuai respects and likes. Which makes his words actually sink in where with others he may not have truly listened.

"I suppose we simply move forward. It serves nothing to dwell on the past. Though I sincerely hope there aren't many situations in the future where we relive each other's deaths." Or anything worse.

"I hope the same, but I'm not optimistic enough to expect it. This happened not long after arriving. There will be more." Whether it's worse or not, he can't say, but this seems like the beginning of something, not the end of it.

"Since this world is all we have now, we should try to understand it. Maybe we'll discover how these graves and shrines came to be. We can find who's responsible, and find out what they want. That's the only way to put an end to it." And that may not work either, but they won't know until they try.

He sighs, why do you have to be right? Again. "Most likely."

Kuai definitely doesn't like the finality of this world being all they have now, it may be true, but it doesn't sit right with him. Probably the eternal optimist in him fighting hard against the crushing despair of reality. "I don't know what brought them, but I do know that one who destroyed their grave had it reemerge the next day. So it seems we can't even impact the things that do occur."

Sometimes being bright and trained to think about these things is a curse.

"That's... even stranger than their appearance," he says with a frown. "That makes it seem malicious. Spiteful."

"They do seem to be here to cause us to be ill at ease rather than to actually honor the fallen. There's no honor in leaving a token of respect and then being forced to experience someone else's emotions and experiences," he says it with some disgust. He hates that he's become privy to others' personal thoughts. He shouldn't know those things. It's not his place.

EVENT LOG: GRAVES

Kuai Liang || OTA | Prompts Below

Death

At the Grave

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