[EVENT] The Simulation Ends

[sixthiteration]

WHERE: 6I Fountain Park & Elsewhere
WHEN: April 1
OPEN TO: ALL - Mingle
WARNINGS: N/A

---

In the snug circle of an old park, a fountain sits burbling beneath a broad, midday sky.

Once-neat paving stones have buckled and cracked from the slow nudge of wayward roots. Benches stand covered in lichen and rust. Three paths push into the underbrush like the spokes on a wheel, the encroaching forest creating lush tunnels through the dark.

But the fountain stands singular and pristine, brightly splashing in open rebellion of the deep, muffled sounds of a place long ago gone to seed. A vibration hums through the ground, there and quickly gone, and the water in the fountain trembles, lapping against the high walls of its cool, pale reservoir.

Far, far away, in a place that isn't really there, people begin to blink out of existance.

It is the first of April.

It is precisely ten o'clock in the morning.



[Please see event details and guidelines here.]

Comments

[theintercessor]

In the moment, he's forgotten anything about the people around them, and remembers only that he shouldn't grab onto Bodhi--circumstances might be damned for one, but Bodhi's reactions remain eternal in his mind.

"I'm--" it isn't quite a teetering laugh, caught in his throat and ground out instead. What a question, with no immediate answer. He's wet, he's tired, he's as scruffy and long-haired as he's ever been. All in the span of moments. But he's not coughing up water and he's not alone--and as far as he can tell, he isn't imagining this.

"I've been worse," he decides. Bodhi's seen him at it. "Are there still--clothes to change into?"

[onlyeverdoubted]

Worse. Bodhi knows he has been, they've both been, this is just one more little irritation in the grand scheme of things. How is it materially different from electric lights suddenly turning up at the Inn? The one is as impossible as the other, and if he chose to interpret differently it's his problem, isn't it? It's stupid to be upset about it.

Knowing that never seems to fix it.

He swallows and tries not to think about it. "They, um, they didn't, didn't come in with us like they did l-last time. I think we'd... we'd have to go, go and look?" He holds out a hand in Jude's direction oh-so-belatedly, motivated by guilt more than anything else.

[theintercessor]

Jude wouldn't call it stupid, just--nothing he can do anything about, and nothing he has the energy to feel anything for. He's upright, he's breathing, Bodhi's accounted for. Find some dry clothes and the dog and his life is functionally what it was.

He'd never think Bodhi felt the same, or that he has to. He doesn't know what to do about that either.

When his hand swings to meet Bodhi's, he isn't thinking about who might be around. There are reunions and theories happening all around them, attention on so many other things--Jude's attention included. If panic crawls his skin after the fact, fingers laced with Bodhi's and realizing what he's done, well--he need only glance up to see that no one has noticed. Giving that hand a squeeze, he lets himself step the slightest bit closer, but not quite up in Bodhi's space.

"Let's check the house."

[onlyeverdoubted]

It's funny. The house? Shouldn't mean anything. Bodhi's lived two places since he got here. Three if you count the time he spent quietly haunting the inn without even taking up a bed before Kira adopted him using deceit and chicken wings. But he immediately turns toward Jude's. That's the space they inhabit together. If he's with Jude, there's only one house.

He keeps Jude's hand as he turns, the sense of duty still there but warring with actual comfort. He's not okay, but he's a little better if Jude's here. "Wonder what the chances of firewood are," he says, finding a mental sanctuary in logistical problems as he often does. He pushes a bit of still-damp hair out of his face and tries to smile. Fails, but tries. He's never been as good as he should be at hiding things from Jude.

[theintercessor]

His gaze draws up, following Bodhi's arm to shoulder, face, as the pull draws his own arm out from his body. As momentum bids him follow. He doesn't question where Bodhi might lead him--nice as it might be, to see the brick house again. Confirm the dog, the tea. Even the bird and its dubious owner.

For a moment, just to make the next breath easier, Jude amuses himself trying to imagine Kira's fussy frame under a beard.

If there isn't firewood, he'll deal with it. If there isn't clothing, isn't a dog, isn't anything but the pair of them and the walls--he'll deal with it. He doesn't need Bodhi to try too hard. "You don't have to be okay with this," he makes himself say, with a fortifying squeeze to Bodhi's hand.

[onlyeverdoubted]

Funny, the things that break a dam. Or maybe not funny at all. Bodhi talks about nothing. No wonder his response to even the shallowest, simplest suggestion that he's allowed to have feelings is enough to snap the flimsy fiction. He stops for a moment, looks back at Jude with his eyes even wider than his natural earnest puppy expression leaves them and a hint of something frantic underneath. "I'm... I'm not," he finally says after a too-long pause, voice thick and halting.

He's not, but what can he do about That? Shouldn't have said anything. Swallowing hard, he turns his feet back toward the house.