awashlogs | Take a look. It's in a book.

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Take a look. It's in a book.

WHO: Open
WHERE: A vault behind a door that opened with a magic key under a trap door in a field in Flavo
WHEN: After Tristan's forum post
WHAT: Write your own story!
WARNINGS: none that I know of - I guess let me know if you do something warning-worthy so I can update

Last month, I have received a quill. . . . A few short lines scribbled onto that book’s pages have yielded me no results, but perhaps defter hands than mine can reveal its secrets. To that end I have left the quill within the room where the book lies, so that any denizen of this world might use it freely. I believe that, considering the recently published end to Mr. F’s woeful tale, we are meant to rewrite the story of this world. As such, it seems fair that all of us play a part in its completion.

The book and the quill are waiting. What will you write?

[Consolidated log for anyone interested in having their character write in the magic book. Please see this post for more details and ooc discussion.]

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[ Well, somebody’s got to give this (another) try. Beneath Tristan’s verse, he writes, experimentally: ]

Once upon a time, in a town its residents call “Chroma,” the water in the harbor, the ocean, and the canals, reflected azure beneath the blue vault of the sky, and golden colored sand lined the shore.

[Going through trapdoors to secret spooky underground rooms isn't exactly something Keigo makes a habit of doing. In fact, he's never done it and doesn't like the idea at all. An anti-habit.

But Keigo is both curious about the possibilities after his previous chance to experiment with a magic book and impressed by how serious Tristan made it sound.

This means no wishing for a girlfriend this time.]

You came, too?

[What luck that he's not alone here! Maybe Wei Wuxian can help him figure out what to write about instead.]

[ He looks up, suddenly, as if he'd been caught doing something. ]

Ah... hahaha!

[ Oh, it's only Keigo. He straightens up, grinning. ]

I did! And so did you!

[ He reaches for the book and holds it up for Keigo to see. Hopefully Awash's universal translator works for his characters. ]

I'm doing a little experiment.

[If Chroma magic can make a magic quill only write in this book, then surely it can apply magic translation powers to the characters written with that quill.

Keigo reads Wei Wuxian's description and can almost imagine himself hanging out on this newly colorful beach.]

Do you think it will really change things like Archer said?

[ He touches his chin. ]

That's what I'm hoping to find out.

[ He flips the book open to the very first page. It's a page about Xie Lian, height, weight, a bit of history, general likes and dislikes: a character sheet, basically. ]

This book directly has to do with the people here. I wrote in something like a change to the setting. Perhaps you'd like to write in something that directly affects people.

[ A beat. He grins. ]

Something harmless, of course.

[ But fun is the unsaid implication. ]

Yeah, something harmless.

[It's not like the book is going to do something like send them all home. That's too much to ask for. He can make something easy and fun happen, though!

Keigo thinks for only a second and starts writing. It was hardly effort to move from his vision of the beautiful beach to-]

And on this beach, all of Chroma was having fun at a massive beach party. There were girls in cute bikinis and guys in swim trunks unless they really wanted to wear speedos instead. The sun was so bright - but a normal bright, not a skin-melting or blinding bright - everyone had to wear sunglasses. They bounce inflatable beach balls around and when they get hot and sweaty from playing beach volleyball, there are watermelons and snowcones - normal colored and full of flavor. The regular flavors everyone enjoys.

[Keigo's in the middle of feeling proud of himself for coming up with a good story and being specific enough to avoid fairy tale tricks when "too much" comes to mind and the text fades away.]

What happened to the words! You saw me write them, didn't you?

I did.

[ He looks up to the beginning of the page; the words he'd written have disappeared as well. ]

Hmm....

[ He takes the quill from Keigo and twirls it through his fingers. ]

With the other books and ink we received, writing about anything significant took quite a bit of ink—often too much for any one person. Here, the ink doesn't seem to be the limiting factor, but perhaps rather the number of people writing.

Yeah, writing together was good.

[He's not sure how he knows it, but he does. It's kind of like the way sometimes he'll receive a gift or quest reward from the town and sense what its purpose is the moment he touches it.]

But we still tried to do too much. I think it would have worked if I asked for one thing, like "everyone had to wear sunglasses."

[ He touches his chin. ]

If that's the case, that might be the only thing you can write. Are you sure you want to ask for "sunglasses"?

[ Whatever they are! ]

No, it should be more important than that.

[Even if they would all look really cool for the rest of the summer.]

Now I don't know what to write! It's too important!

[ After you enter the chamber with the book, Mythra walks in soon after. She’ll greet you if you knows you or not. ] Here for the book and quill?

What are you going to write in it?

[ She has already written her piece within the book: that the rainbow hen is called back to the town by the bonds people have forged, that the trees leave the town in peace, that the books become restored within the library, and that the well serves as a portal to and from one’s homeworlds.

That seems like a happy enough ending to her, although besides that? She’s not sure what else to write in it. ]

[ The book is too interesting for Magilou to actually stay away from for long, so she's visited it quite a few times. Someone might expect Magilou to be crowded around it and writing something awful in the book, but she knows when to be serious. So far, she hasn't written anything in it yet, though there's already a few additions.

She doesn't startle when she hears Mythra behind her - all she does is turn around with a grand gesture, like she'd planned to get interrupted all along. ]

Books are meant for storytelling, right? So we'll have to write down an amazing adventure, the likes of which this town has never heard of before!

[ Though, considering the last time they were given books and quills to write in... ]

I was thinking of putting down the facts and seeing where it takes us. The reality here is enough of a story as it is, in my opinion.

[ Leave it to Magilou to come up with an epic tale the likes of which this world has never seen. ]

This place does like its fairy tales... but tales of rainbow chickens in the woods doesn't sound very epic to me, if we're part of that search-and-rescue story.

[ Mythra places a hand upon her hip. ] Putting down facts seems like a good place to start, but writing down what's already happened might not change anything.

Not exactly true. It might not change anything, but it makes sure that what we've done stays around, and that the truth gets passed down through time.

[ Who knows how their story might be changed over the years, perhaps, if they don't write down where they've been and where they hope to go? ]

I doubt this book can change the past, but for example - what if someone writes that the church was damaged again, and our efforts were all for nothing? It at least helps us keep our heads on straight. Something like... The denizens of other worlds worked together to repair the town, restoring color, blah blah blah. It'd need to be more elegant, but that keeps our own stories written in history.

[ Mythra brings a gloved hand to her chin, her expression thoughtful. ]

....I.... think that sounds about right.

[ She pauses briefly before she decides to elaborate. ] I've already tried writing in the book, but the ink vanished into the paper. [ Basically, what she wrote in it wasn't good enough. Or rather-- ]

When that happened, I got the distinct feeling that both the book and quill are tools to be used for Chroma's future... but that it can't be done by just one person. Instead, everyone should.

As if I can write a single sentence, but then someone else has to pen the next.

So it's limited to one line per person, and only writes about the future...

[ This is a great amount of power in one person's hands. There's a lot of havoc that can be wrought even in a single sentence. She doesn't think there's anyone here that would use it for more nefarious means, but still - ]

That's quite a lot of trust this book is putting in us to do something benevolent. What would happen if the people who were called here were villains?

[ The smile on her face is sly... but when she walks over to the book, it softens into something more genuine. ]

Let's see here. Maybe something like... [ She puts a finger to her chin; she hasn't actually put quill to paper yet, in an uncharacteristic moment of contemplation. This moment is for thinking it over. ] The town flourished with the blessings of both the new arrivals and the chicken, the former residents were remembered and honored, and the tiny hamlet became a village which grew into a vibrant city. Not my best work, but it seems fitting enough.

[ ...Villains, huh? Her lips purse as she watches Magilou approach the book, but otherwise doesn't comment on that subject.

Mythra looks over at the book. ]

What I wrote just ended up fading into the book-- and it was kind of a summary like that, so it must have not worked. It might need something simpler or smaller from each of us. [ Regardless, she shrugs. ] But why not give it a try anyway?

Hm.

[ Well, she's not being stopped, so Magilou goes right ahead and writes it into the book. The ink stays for a moment, so she assumes it might be okay -

- And then before she's even finished writing the first half of the sentence, the words start to fade on the page like the ink's being absorbed back into the ether. Weird. She shrugs and turns back around, twirling the quill around her fingers. ]

Yup, seems like it's totally dry again. So it's either limited by length, or complexity... [ Maybe what she's trying to change is too much at once, or perhaps too vague. ] What if we each wrote one half of a sentence?

Probably complexity... or how much a single sentence covers. We can't just... [ She runs a hand through her hair. ] summarize an ending. A story isn't just about it's conclusion; it's how we all get there.

[ And now? She begins to pace. ] ...We should stick to writing full sentences. Because if we only write half of one, and it fades before the next person can pick up where it was left off, then that could be trouble. [ Unfinished works and all that-- but she really has no idea.

She stops, turning to look at Magilou. ] Writing that "people became closer through their bonds" takes too much away from the story. But how does the journey end there?

We have to think outside of the box: bonds are the key to this world and restoring its color. What can we write to happen, that will produce many genuine and deep opportunities to strengthen bonds?

[ Ah, and then it clicks. She's... not the best! At trying to form legitimate bonds with people!! So the fact that she overlooked that is maybe not that surprising, but it is a bit embarrassing. She's trying to be better with that.

She sighs, the quill still held between her fingers. This place may not be the most glamorous of worlds... but there are people that she's grown to care about here. She should help out; even she can admit that she wants to finish the story off right. ]

You're right. Though, at this point, I'd consider myself more of a historian than someone who looks to the future, so that's best left to the naïve ones who always look on the bright side.

[ In other words, not her. But she's here, she has the quill in her hands, she has to write something. And she's actually being serious this time. ]

I know some people who think that bonds are best made over food and drink. There's been enough banquets in this town to feed an entire army twice over, but they always seem to work. Maybe if we created the opportunity for everyone to do more than just eat - like, if everyone cooked together, over a big hotpot or something.

[ ......................She's going to pass on helping with hotpot because she nearly burned her house down the last time she cooked. OOps. ]

Y-yeah.... hotpots.

[ Ahem. ]

I was thinking-- more along the lines of... trying to open up all or most of the old quests, so that everyone might be able to complete them over again to help with color restoration. [ That's lazy writing though. ] Some of those quests were very powerful-- like one that could grant wishes.

Sounds a little like gaming the system. I like it.

[ Just devious enough for her to sign up, and just possible enough for it to work! ]

As long as we leave out some of the more gruesome ones, I'd say. Not that I was around here for most of those little escapades - seems like everyone had tons of fun before I even got here! I was kidnapped so late that there were only tiny morsels left to sample.

[ Now the only question is, how can that be written in a way the book would appreciate? She recites her idea first - ]

In order to restore the final splashes of color, the town's new residents came together to repeat every task that made the world vibrant.

[ Fun.... Yeah, lots of fun. This world has been nothing but fun. ]

That's good... write that down.

[ And she hopes it might work! She hopes. But what else, what else? There has to be something else-- something that they are missing (besides color of course).

Mythra, in the end, can't quite think of anything beyond her previous suggestion. People will simply have to come together to form those bonds and restore their color. She cares for the town and this world, but what if it's not enough? What if this realm is destroyed, all of its feeling and saturation sapped out of it by some unknowable force>

What happens afterwards, what happens to them?

When Magilou's done writing her own piece into the book, Mythra will take the quill from her and pen: ]

The town learned that even if not all color was restored, the otherworlders' bonds were unbreakable and strong enough to build bridges between their worlds.

[ They've come to the same conclusion: maybe this book was meant for them to forge a way home. It takes the bonds thing pretty strictly, though, if no one person can monopolize the entire book. (She wasn't expecting it to be that easy, though.)

Magilou hands off the pen for Mythra to take when she's done. Despite her normal high-flying antics, she's taken care to pass it safely. Even she knows what kind of power this quill might hold, and she's taking it seriously. Which is why she steps back and lets Mythra write her piece, knowing that... if something changes because of this, it might just be their ticket home. ]

Unbreakable and strong, huh? Guess there isn't much this town has thrown at us that we haven't overcome... even if we've only squeaked by sometimes.

[ Man, she's getting soft. She quickly rights herself and looks at the book, just in case - this thing has been pretty finicky with what it accepts and what it doesn't.

...Case in point, the words that Magilou wrote are starting to fade, ever so slightly. ]

Huh. Guess mine wasn't good enough for this thing's standards. Picky! You won't let us just fill it all in at once? [ Maybe it was too much of a blanket statement... ]

[ ...Ah. Looks like she got it wrong, too. But she's also granted with new information for her failure (rather, miswording that the town itself "learned" something on its own): a feeling that somehow, the town is sentient.

She doesn't know what to make of it. ] Mine, either.

[ Time to try again? ]

Damn, you'd think that we'd at least get more of a hint of what to write. If this town is cursed-- what is it going to take to undo it? Kiss the well? [ She's just spit-balling here, delaying as she tries to think of something else to write. ]

[ So neither of them worked... She thought they were on the right track! It seemed like such a good idea! ]

Egads, our careers as writers are over before they even began! This is what they meant by read it and weep - I feel like crying just watching it disappear!

[ She's overdramatizing a bit, but it is depressing. She has the vaguest feeling that her words were too overarching or ambitious. ]

If we want to keep up the story, I'm thinking we might need to aim a bit... lower. My words disappeared, too, so I feel like anything super powerful is too much for one person to write alone.

[ This place is built on fairytales, though, so - ]

Everything here has a catch. If you kissed the well, I bet it'd... turn right into a frog, or something.

[ Despite how dramatic Magilou might come off, it.... does amuse Mythra by just a bit. A faint smile dusts her lips before her expression corrects itself. ] You know what? I'm going to try it just for shits and giggles. [ A beat. ] Not right now, but later.

After I think of what else to write in this book.

Seems like this book has quite the high standards, so that might take a little longer than I was anticipating.

[ She shrugs, because... honestly, she's out of ideas for now, too. She wasn't expecting it to be as easy as writing a way home in the book, and tada, there they go, but still... If all of their words have been rejected, it's hard to tell what won't be. ]

If you're planning on giving that well a big ol' smooch any time soon, though, you better give me a call first! You'll need a witness for a ceremony like that.

[ .....Okay, so. She can joke around a little, if only because messing around is a lot easier than thinking of what to write. ]

The well and I prefer to keep our relationship on the down-low, thanks.

[ He's spent a lot of time thinking about what to write in the book, having chatted with enough people to understand how it works now: one sentence, about himself or others in the town, or the town itself. Requests too large won't be granted.

He only hopes that this one won't be considered too great.

He sits down next to the book and picks up the quill, then glances up at his husband. ]

Any second thoughts? Is there anything else you want, that I can grant you?

All I want has been granted.

[ All he wanted was Wei Ying, after all, and making sure the one survivor of Wei Ying's sect could grow up, that last vestige of Wei Ying in the world...

He takes a deep breath, tearing his thoughts away from the darker possibilities. Instead, he settles next to his husband and takes his free hand, gently gathering the robe's sleeve away from the book with the other. ]

You will not be alone. It should be easier if you know it.

Is there... something else that you want?

[ His eyes soften. ]

It's the same for me. I don't want anything else. That's why...

[ He hesitates. He'd wrestled with this for a very long time, but in the end decided to write down something for himself. But what if... what if Lan Zhan doesn't make the same choice? What if he writes something else, something more selfless, allowing himself to languish all those long years in pain, regret, and loneliness, never realizing how much he's loved.

He can't let Lan Zhan make that choice. ]

All right. I'll write it then.

[ He takes up and quill and writes, in a steady hand:

Lan Zhan will return to his world and remember everything that happened in Chroma. Most of all, he'll remember that he married Wei Ying, and that they lived happily together, and will again one day, at the end of thirteen years. They'll all live happily ever after.

The words shimmer, but they don't disappear, as with his first attempt at writing in the book. He exhales, relieved. ]

There.

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Take a look. It's in a book.

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(closed to lan wangji)

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1/3

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