saturations | Week 6 cyoa: hei, jiuqing, vin, and kashuu

[oops. she just thought peace was important. sorry, ysayle!!]

...I'm not... from here. I appeared on the tundra with no idea where I was or how to get back.

[...]

I seek to return to [...how did aymeric and estinien and meteion and emet phrase it...] my own star.

But I don't know how to accomplish that.

[ The dragon is quiet... Ysayle, too. She is too shocked to bolster her own cause because a different star? ]

My sire, Midgardsormr, flew through the galaxy to find a star for our brood, but he is stronger than any other.

Is there naught you can do for her? She should not suffer being on a different star—there must be those she loves at home.

[ Sometimes you project your want for a home and friends onto someone you just met, but also care genuinely. ]

[ He simmers on this, thinking more. It seems he's nicer to Jiuqing just cause she isn't from this star. ]

This endeavor is beyond mine reach, but I sense others like thou. They march in Ishgard... They prepare for war that they will fail. They will die.

Die?

[jiuqing's eyes go wide, and she shakes her head - her grip tightens on the lily cane i keep forgetting she has.]

No, that can't - I have to help them. How do I get to Ishgard? What's the quickest way there?

It matters not if thou return to Ishgard forthwith. They will die. My brood-brother will not stop until every last Ishgardian and all who side with them perish. Them and their offspring.

[ ... ]

But through trial, there is a chance thou may yet save the few you hold dear.

[ Ysayle takes a stand, too. ]

Then I will also take trial, to win your favor to my cause.

[ Hraesvelgr would roll his eyes if he could, cause the AUDACITY if you younguns. ]

Very well. Close thine eyes.

[jiuqing has gone pale.

they will die - she doesn't want to accept that. ...but if she can save even a few of them, that's something. it's somewhere to start. she'll see just how many of them she can save.

she nods, bowing deeply once again.]

...thank you for giving me this chance.

[she closes her eyes.]

[ Ysayle and Su Jiuqing will both close their eyes and instantly they will be transported to another realm... Or is it that they're put in such a deep sleep? It's difficult to tell, but it starts with darkness. For this moment, Su Jiuqing will forget that she's in a trial. Everything she experiences now will be without any knowledge of it, her goal, or this trip until she returns to her senses.

She is here, on her own, no Ysayle. This is a familiar room—it is in her home, her original home, the home she lived in during the original timeline before she would be taken in by her aunt... Before she would be wed. She knows what this means, she also knows who rests in the bed. Silks cover the person who breathes so heavily, as if they're struggling. What will she do?

... By the way, the black bird is here. ]

[suzhou.

this is su manor, where she grew up. where she lived with her father and her mother, before she ever knew anything at all - before she knew just what sort of man her father was. this is the room where her mother lived, and... it's the room where her mother died.

jiuqing's heart clenches uncomfortably, and she finds herself moving to the bedside, reaching for that person's hand.]

—Mother.

[she's fifteen again, terrified and helpless.

this is a moment she's revisited against her will, over and over - in nightmares, when she sleeps fitfully. it's a moment she had never fully managed to put behind her.]

Mother, I'm here...

[ She's fifteen again. Her mother lies in the bed, breathing a little slower, better paced, as if comforted by her daughter's voice. Or maybe she's trying her best not to come off as ill as she actually is. She has to, for her young daughter, she has to at least look strong. Who would she be if her daughter could only look at her so pitifully? Not now. Not when she still has strength in her.

So she struggles, she struggles with all of her might to sit up. It is only proper to greet her beautiful daughter and meet her gaze. Her grip on Jiuqing's hand is tight for her, but simply put it is weak for her age. Weak for a toddler, too.

Despite that, her mother would smile at her like nothing is wrong. This is just another day with her daughter. Another day she plans to cherish because she knows well that her life has been forfeit. ]

Good afternoon, Jiuqing. [ Her voice, too, is light... It speaks to her frailty. ] Oh, your hair. Some strands are sticking up.

[ And carefully, mother comes to brush Jiuqing's hair, thin fingers combing through fretfully. It's shaking, slow, but she combs with meticulous care. ]

You still need practice styling your hair, but today is better than yesterday.

[it hurts to see this.

isn't - isn't there something she can do? anything she can do? isn't this what she studied medicine to prevent? her hands shake a little. like this, it's no good; the poison has already made her mother so sick. even if she had access to an entire clinic's worth of herbs, she's just too far gone.

...the way her mother smiles at her brings tears to her eyes, and she's still as she runs the comb through her hair. too gently, too weakly.]

Mother, I... [who cares about her hair when she's so sick?] ...can I get you anything? Tea, or broth, or...

[ Her mother breathes in deeply, exhales just as deeply. She may be on death's bed, but her expression is bright. Her hand retracts when she's done with her daughter's hair, but the grip she has in Jiuqing's hand stays. With the smallest movements, she massages her daughter's fingers. ]

I would love a cup of tea.

[ Her eyes wane into crescents, smiling in all sorts of ways. ]

...

[she smiles back at her. her mother's touch on her hand is so familiar, and jiuqing is loathe to let go or to pull her hand away, but she does so that she can get up and get her mother some tea.]

Then I'll be right back with that for you.

[...to the kitchens. she knows the way; she's been sneaking in here to steal snacks from the chef since she was a child.

now, she searches the kitchen for the luo han guo fruit - it won't cure her mother, but tea made from it can ease coughs and relieve sore throats. she can treat the symptoms, at least, even in simple ways. even without her herbs and medicines.

once that's made, she returns to her mother's room.]

Edited 2022-03-30 06:09 (UTC)

[ And her mother has decided to lie back down on her back. She doesn't stir when Jiuqing enters... ]

[son of a bitch.

jiuqing sets the cup of tea down somewhere safe and rushes over to her mother's beside.]

Mother?

[ Mother... Mother does not answer. She does not stir. When Jiuqing comes closer, she will see that her chest does not raise, but maybe that's due to the thick blanket covering her? Perhaps she's resting. ]

[she reaches for her mom's wrist and feels for a pulse.]

Mother, please, don't scare me like this...

[ Her mother's wrist is warm because she was just talking to her before! But the pulse... It's faint with too long of a pause between each beat.

She's dying. Her last moment is near. There's a finality of it all, how her mother stills in this bed, how she doesn't react to her daughter's call, and how she's slowly drifting away. This was the last thing she wanted to do to Jiuqing. There was so much she wanted to tell her.

There's only silence. What will Jiuqing do? What can she do? ]

[jiuqing's hand shifts, so that instead of feeling for her mother's pulse, she's holding her hand. her other hand comes up to join it, holding it between both of hers. she can't help the way tears stream down her cheeks.]

Mother, I love you.

[don't go.]

[ Mother doesn't respond, she can't, but she desperately hopes Jiuqing knows how much she loves her. How much she wishes her to live a good life after she's gone, that she will watch over her from the heavens. Her Jiuqing... If only she had the strength to tell her what she wanted before she left.

At least she may pass with her daughter by her side. She is not alone when her soul is snuffed and her hand is limper than before. What life found in her pulse is gone, silent. It's silent in this room.

...

WAS IT WORTH IT?

Would you know love only to lose it? To watch your mother accept that man into her life, to forgive him, to allow him to dally with your aunt, to accept these parasites that would soon poison her... It does not change that her kindness edges negligent. Her kindness would leave you, her precious daughter, alone in this room.

This is the question Jiuqing finds asked to her, from where she doesn't know, but it feels like it comes from within. It is invasive. It festers like an infection, spreads like a virus. ]

Edited (i can't type) 2022-03-30 06:37 (UTC)

[unfair.

unfair, that her mother had to suffer at all. unfair, that she's left her now. unfair, that she's had to live this moment so many more times than she ever wanted to - first in her original life, and then again the week of those memories, within the prism... and now...

she chokes on her tears.

was it worth it?]

...shut up!

[jiuqing's hands are now clenched so tightly into fists that her fingernails are digging into her palms.]

My mother was worth everything!

[ ... And Jiuqing would answer.

My mother was worth everything.

Again, she's in the room and nothing is out of place. She's beside her mother's bed, holding onto her hand while fingers run through her hair. In only a few minutes, her mother would lie down and find her end... She knows this, but right now her mother is alive until then. Is this a second chance when she knows that her mother will die again? ]

[again.

this isn't natural. at her core, jiuqing knows this. her mother died, and she died, and she came back, and - before the prism, she was alive. she was safe. this is a memory. it's not real, and it will never be real.

but it feels real, in this moment. she knows what's happening, but she doesn't know how to stop it.]

Mother. [her voice comes out in a whisper.] Save your strength, please...

Save your words... I know my time is coming, Jiuqing.

[ ... And her mother would die, but this time being able to exchange words with her. Tears well in her eyes, begging for more time to be with Jiuqing. In truth, even if she believes Jiuqing will be successful... She believes she will marry a bright man, will bring into the world a wonderful family, she fears not being there. She wants to be there to see it all. Each word that flows is slow, but emotional.

And in her struggle to tell Jiuqing all of this, she ends... Leaning forward, head hanging like a ragdoll.

It comes again, the question.

WAS IT WORTH IT? ]

[her mother...

tears well in her eyes, too, and as her mother struggles, she hangs on to her every word, listening carefully, and then easing her down to rest when her time has come. she ends up leaning forward, but jiuqing carefully settles her back, then brings up a hand to close her eyes.

she can almost believe she's sleeping peacefully.

the question, again. jiuqing seethes, as it prickles under her skin.]

...every moment spent with the people I love is worth it. Even if it hurts.

[ ... And again, she finds herself in the same position. Again, she finds her mother before her, alive and ill, knowing she will die soon. Again, she watches her mother slip away. Why is she here? Because she answered the question.

Every moment spent with the people I love is worth it. Even if it hurts.

And so Jiuqing repeats this moment with her mother, more times than she can count, because slowly... Slowly with each repeat, she forgets. She starts forgetting the timeline she's from, she forgets that she saved her mother. She would forget the happier life she has with her. Jiuqing would forget the reason why she learned medicine. It's there, but for what? It stays in the back of her mind as now each new repetition doesn't feel like a repeat. Every cycle is a "new" experience, emotions raw and deep—she knows no better. Only towards the end of these loops is the question asked again and maybe she would answer the same, for the suffering she accumulated with each reset would only be the pain of that moment. Being forced to forget means she wasn't allowed the comfort of desensitizing the pain. She wasn't allowed to become numb. However, she can stay naive. She can stay hopeful. She can continue to believe in her answer.

But then it floods.

It floods like a dam has broken, all the pain of each cycle. The memories of past loops and the pain of losing her mother comes in tens, hundreds, thousands, millions—it rushes to her as this question again is posed to her. She doesn't remember the hope of saving her mother, how she succeeded, instead she's reminded of how she's only fifteen... And couldn't save her so many times.

... Was it worth it? ]

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