collectedlogs | shinsha time

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cinnabar

shinsha time

WHO: Cinnabar and YOU...?!
WHAT: Haunting prompts for Zuko and Wataru, and a general prompt for everyone else...!! Jewel thievery is happening(?).
WHEN: july... somewhere
WHERE: Lighting store / various corner jewelry stores in the mall like J*red's
WARNINGS: none!

[ Despite sticking out like a sore thumb, Cinnabar is remarkably hard to pin down in the mall; they spend most of their time hiding away, and when they're not hiding away, they're actively trying to avoid running into anyone. The repeated explanations are stressful, the stares are stressful, everything is stressful. Back at home, they were only barely beginning to connect with the other gems; now, faced with a bizarre world full of even more bizarre creatures they'd only heard about in legends, they feel like they're back at square one. They continue to tell themself that they just need some time. Time to think; time to rationally consider all their options, and make an educated and informed decision about how to move forward from here.

But it's hard to be rational and think when you're so afraid.

They try to focus on things that are familiar to them, though there are few of them. Lights. Insects. Wooden tables and cotton brushes. They poke through the stores, looking for comfort and answers in equal measure. The jewelry store has neither. It's a graveyard - a bizarre morgue of confusing and depressing fragments - and it makes them wonder more than anything if the Lunarians really are involved, because who else would do something like this? But they strengthen their resolve; they have to do something about this, as a gem. Even if Diamond left, they didn't deserve this...

Cinnabar can be found with what looks like an empty bag of flour in one hand, crunching over the broken glass inside of one of the jewelry stores and peering with a mournful gaze into the display cases. There's not much left in there, but what is left is gently picked up with a gloved hand and put into the bag. Rings, necklaces, brooches - all of it is getting burgled right out there in plain sight. They can even be seen crouching down and looking through the glass on the floor for jewels sometimes, apparently not worried about getting cuut. ]

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[ why is he posing... more importantly, why is he calling them that. They stay where they are, crouched in the dirt like a beautiful lawn gnome, giving him an annoyed look. ]

Cinnabar.

[ their name isn't even very complicated for a gem!! it takes them a second to get what he's referring to; they shake their head. ]

It's "flour."

[ He's looking Cinnamon (unfortunately, names stick like this, especially if you don't like them and tell him as much) over and bursting out into a big smile. ]

Fufufu... then this situation is truly a flour by any other name.... ♪

[ Kill me he's really proud of his pun. ]

[ LOOK OF DISGUST... ]

What is that even supposed to mean...

[ ... no, they shouldn't honor that horrible joke with an explanation. at least it distracts them from the not-so-mild discomfort of being looked over. Cinnabar curls in on themself a little more, hugging their knees to their chest. ]

Nevermind. I can already tell you're the type who won't listen.

That's right, you've got it already! I only listen to things that benefit me or seem interesting...!

You are quite interesting, but saying to not go in there... Cinnamon, could it be that you think I'll get lost in a mirror house? Rest assured, that will not be the case. [ SPINS~ ] A clown thrives in such conditions, you know! The more of me there are, the more I can spread love and happiness about... ♪

[ Hm. That line isn't going to age well.

Anyhow, he's now flicking a red flower towards them. It's not a real rose, of course, it's the stem of a fake rose that's been given a new head—various pieces of red paper, some faded red cloth, all crafted together to make as realistic of a rose as he could, considering the circumstances.

He's been adapting well enough, for an idol in an abandoned movie mall. He's even been helpful at times. But he wouldn't be on brand if he didn't have some roses, so. He's really done his best to keep some sense of normalcy. ]

[ they literally have no idea what he's talking about, please help, what is a mirror house. What is a clown. Humans are so confusing!! They decide to assume he's just spouting off nonsense again, if only to spare them from having to ask him a ton of questions and getting questionable answers in return. ]

It's Cinnab -- [ they cut themself off when he suddenly throws something at them?! They lift their arms defensively again, like they're expecting some kind of attack, but they get nothing more than a light tink noise as the fake flower bounces off of them. ] H-hey! Don't throw things at me...!

[ is he angry at them? They don't really know what that was for. A flower is usually a present, but Cinnabar both assumes that nobody would ever give them anything and that if it was a present, it wouldn't be delivered via hand toss. ]

Hm? But you were so surprised, how could I not throw it? Cinnamon, surprise is a spice in the dish that happens to be called life~

[ By now, he is in full view of the mirrors. Many of them, though he's too busy looking at Cinnamon now to notice that for some reason, he's taking a step backwards, closer to the store. Then a second. ]

If I were to hand you such a thing, you'd expect it. When I hand over roses, they must magically appear out of thin air, or else there's no point in being a magician!

[ WHAT IS A MAGICIAN!! The questions keep coming. Cinnabar does not have time to ponder them this time, nor to get irritated over him continuing to call them the wrong name - he's toddling off towards the store, just like they said he would in spite of their warnings. When they realize he's already practically in the store, they quickly get to their feet. ]

Wait...! There's something weird in there! Do you want to get hurt?

[ they don't have their gloves on, so grabbing him is out of the question; for now, they stand their ground, hoping it's not too late for him to back off and get away. What happened to them when they went in there, they have no idea, but they're sure it would be even worse for a human. ]

Hm? There's something dangerous in there?

[ Now he's actually turning around and at this point he might have believed them and backed off. Unfortunately, this is too late and he makes eye contact with the Watarun in the mirror.

It's... strange. He doesn't feel like anything specific is wrong, though when he tips his head to the side, he feels like there's a slight delay in his reflection before it does the same. ]

What is it? Dangerous things are quite thrilling, but only as long as you know where the boundary of safety lays. I'd like to die in a manner such as being thrown off a cliff by a lover, but I wouldn't quite say I'm ready to do that yet, you see?

[ ...even Wataru is wondering if he's saying this. Not because it's not something he would say, it is, and he's even said similar things before, but because wasn't he about to heed their warning...? Hm. ]

[ is he rambling because he's scared, or because he's just that clueless? Either way, it doesn't matter. Cinnabar shakes their head urgently. ]

Stop babbling and listen to me! You'll lose control of your body. It happened to me before...

[ they didn't make the connection with the mirrors, so they don't know that's what caused it - they only know that it seemed to happen once they got inside that particular store, and that's what also makes them nervous to follow after him. Losing control of their body around a human as careless as this one would be a recipe for disaster; just imagining it makes them feel uneasy. ]

Just walk away from it. It's too dangerous for me to help you.

[ No fear (one fear for being abandoned). ]

Oh, can I not do both? I am quite skilled at talking and listening at the same time. In fact, I would say that I will only stop speaking once I have passed on from this life!

[ That's... something he would say normally as well, but he feels it—concern, because he is most definitely not intending to step closer to them.

And yet he is. Unfortunately, "closer" in this sense is still in perfect view of the mirrors. ]

[ at least he's moving in the right direction, even if it's towards them? They're still tense, but they assume the immediate danger is over. After all, he's moving away from the store. Crisis averted, right?? ]

Don't sound proud of that.

[ talking until he dies! As they speak, they turn slightly, looking back at the fake flower he'd tossed at them a second ago; their hand dips into their pocket, pulling out their black gloves and beginning to slip them on. ]

You're right, that's quite a basic talent, like rubbing your tummy and patting your head at the same time.

[ He stops, gesturing outwards with his arms and sighs. Then he begins taking careful, measured steps backwards. ]

When people perceive me, I'd like them to think something along the lines of "What bloody man is that?" Oh, do you remember Shakespeare? Even for my time, he has been long gone, though.

[ That's not a talent, either... Is it? They pause and almost try it before deciding they don't want to look stupid in public. Instead, having safely gloved their hands, they squat down and pick up the fabric rose between two fingers, as if they're handling some dangerous material. It's definitely fake, but they've never seen one like it before, so they are, admittedly, a little curious... not that they're going to admit it. ]

"Shake spear?" I seriously don't know what you're talking about. [ unfortunately for both of them, Cinnabar doesn't turn around to give him another dirty look. They're busy inspecting the flower with a dubious expression. ] I don't know any humans other than you and the others here.

[ By now, he's almost back to the store and while he's aware by now that something is off, he's not sure how to convey it. His body is acting on it's own, tracing a finger along the edge of a mirror nearby. ]

He was a famous writer. Quite an amazing person, he was—his stories laid the foundations of many pieces of human literature for generations to come. He is quite often quoted even without knowing.

What of plays? Do you know what 'theatre' is?

[ His body seems like it's trying to keep them engaged... somehow. ]

No.

[ their voice is flat. Things like that are foreign to them; they can't even begin to guess what "theatre" might mean. Maybe some type of game, if it's related to playing. That wouldn't help them, either - they've never been able to play with the other gems. That could have possibly changed, with the way things were, but now they're here, and it's pointless to consider it further.

After a moment, they sigh, rising to their feet again. ]

I told you... Your kind is extinct. I --

[ they turn around, and when they see him standing there in the entrance of the store, their eyes widen in shock. ]

W-what are you doing?!

[ no, they know - he must already be affected by the stupid store. What should they do? They're afraid of going back over there, too. But they're sure it would be worse for a fragile human. Before they can overthink it, they've dropped the flower, taking quick steps over to him and reaching for the fabric of his sleeve so they can pull him away again. ]

[ This person is so... at this point, he's thinking it would be best for them to leave him like this, allow the depths of the store to dramatically swallow him whole; if he's lucky, perhaps this ailment—whatever it may be—will just harmlessly wear off.

It's not going to be the case, he notices as his sleeve is caught mid-grandiose gesture. His mouth is smiling, though that's nothing new, at least. ]

Ah, but your kind must have a culture too, no? I don't always wish to make assumptions. Perhaps you were one of the biggest fans of the stage, hm? Fufu, it's a radiant thing to see... I wish that it could be reproduced here.

[ A magician carries many things, abstract things, useful things; there are things in his pockets that have been planned surprises for days now, and there are things hidden there "just in case".

At this moment, it's a long sewing need in the sleeve of his jacket, sliding down into the palm of his hand just like a simple card trick would be prepared. ]

Ah, but I could play all of the roles myself, but being on the stage alone is no fun.

Are you seriously still talking?!

[ GOD, HE'S WORSE THAN PHOS!! that's a lie, nobody is worse than Phos. Their eyes do flick over to the needle, very briefly, and they recognize it for what it is. Something like that is more than enough to damage someone with a hardness as low as theirs; however, they're more worried about accidentally burning him with the poison, as usual. And, more than that, they're worried about what might happen if someone gets stuck in that place alone. In the end, weak as they are, Cinnabar's still a gem, and the threat of imminent personal injury doesn't feel like much of a threat at all.

So they just keep doing what they're doing. Their grip tightens on the fabric, and they start dragging him away as best they can. They're almost ten times his weight, and they're strong, too, at least in this regard - if nothing else, they're confident they can overpower a human. ]

[ If this were a play, this part would be the comedic part. A fairly tall boy being dragged by a brilliant red gem covered in flour, all the while he keeps talking in his usual sing-song voice as if he's not raising the needle up. ]

To tell me to stop talking is the same as telling me to die, you know!

[ He's not struggling so much as drawing the needle in his free hand up and then bringing the point down onto one of their fingers.

While his outer appearance is just as usual, his mouth is saying words he's said before, even, inside he's... this is far beyond wrong. He doesn't like it. There's not many things Wataru dislikes, but hurting someone—especially needlessly—is one of them. Go, he's silently pleading with them, none of which ends up being translated into what he says, not even his body language. ]

[ unfortunately, they've already committed to helping him out, here, so it's too late for them to leave, even if this is quickly becoming more of a problem than they bargained for. At least he's light. He should be away from this place in no time, and then (hopefully) he'll go back to normal. That's how it worked for them.

They make no effort to avoid his strike, concentrated as they are on dragging him away without actually touching him; the needle easily finds its mark, poking a hole in their glove and immediately cracking the stone beneath, like hitting a piece of brittle concrete with a pick. Cinnabar expects the break and the brief moment of discomfort that follows. What they're not expecting is the bizarre, terrible sensation that follows. Gems don't feel pain, not really - not until this moment. They make a sort of choked whimper in surprise, letting go on instinct before they realize it. ]

[ Maybe, just maybe, this worked out in their favour—maybe now they will run. Hearing the crack echoes through his mind, his heart—he is not going to forget it for the rest of his life. Even if he has no control over his limbs, he still feels like there's something he can be doing to shake this off.

But there isn't, and he's advancing again, holding the needle in his fist downwards like a dagger as he does so.

Does it hurt? It sounded like it hurt them. One of the very last things he ever wants to do to someone is hurt them, or make them feel pain like this; and yet, he can't stop the smile spreading across his face. ]

"Hell is empty and all the devils are here."

[ They're not going to know what it means. And even then, there's no way to actually get a message out, even if he could hide it within his Shakespeare stanning. At the very least, it feels appropriate to say. ]

It's a line from The Tempest. We were just about to perform a song that referenced it quite heavily when I found myself here. It's quite amazing—the author was known for his love of tragedies, but The Tempest was a bit different; a tragicomedy, if even that, and one further that had a happy ending full of freedom for the main character.

[ Cinnabar's a little bit in shock. It's not dissimilar to the feeling they get when they see the other gems playing together, or when they notice they've killed another flower or snail or beetle by accident, but it's much more intense in a way they're unable to even describe - and, worse, it doesn't seem to be going away. They're gripping their wrist with their uninjured hand, staring at the dismembered digit with a creased brow and mercury welling in their eyes.

What is this? Did he do something? He's just a human, and the thing he hit them with is just a knitting needle - isn't it? They don't know what this means. When they glance up, he's making a weird face at them, and he's still rambling about something or other that Cinnabar's finding harder to care about than ever. It's obvious that something's wrong with him, just like something was wrong with them earlier. ]

You're so annoying... [ they'll have to worry about this later, though. They were helping him out of empathy before; they still are, but now it's obvious he'd attack them even if they stopped. Doing their best to shrug off the throb in their hand, they draw themself up again, taking a quick step forward to meet him in the middle - this time, they're more conscientious of the fact that he means to attack, and they lunge for the hand with the weapon this time, grabbing his wrist with far less hesitation than before. ] Cut it out!

[ Cinnabar is not a combat gem; they're so soft that they can't even wield a weapon, and they hate fighting. They don't know how to disarm him or anything like that. Instead, they're just trying to keep him from taking another swing at them, their grip like a stony vise. ]

[ He's nimble, a near professional at feinting and sleight of hand, and should be able to get out of most situations. But instead of utilizing that ability to escape, his body is trying to use it to hurt, something he's very much without experience in. So, it's quite easy for Cinnamon (yes, sorry) to take hold of him again.

Leaving them at a bit of a stalemate. Even if he pushes and pulls at his wrists, the skin only bruises and reddens, but he can't actually free himself. Despite his body being strong for an idol of his size, it doesn't actually help him escape. ]

If I am "annoying", it just inspires me to be myself more and more!

[ But he's working at it. His words. Trying to find something that is meaningful in some way, that he can actually say. What he manages next isn't the least bit helpful, but it feels important; to Wataru, and it's simple enough that it gets out. ]

"When the mind is free, the body is delicate."

[ He's struggling so much now, it's almost embarrassing? How could he let anyone see him struggle like this, wow, body snatcher... ]

[ it would be extremely easy for them to just pick him up and throw him, but now they're only more worried about that breaking him irreparably somehow if they do so; even with the gloves on, they can tell how soft he is. Especially with him wiggling around. Their other hand still feels -- bad (enough that there's mercury welling up in their eyes again), and they don't want to grab him with it, either. Which, indeed, leaves them in a stalemate. They interpret what he's saying - if he is actually trying to communicate something to them - as him thinking the same thing as them: even if they can free him from this, he's going to wind up getting hurt because of that body...

This sucks. Especially because they're not actually sure how to make him stop. It seemed like moving far away enough from the store was what helped them before, though. Maybe there really is no choice. After a solid few moments of Wataru struggling and Cinnabar holding him there, they wince, biting their lip. ]

I-I'm sorry...!

[ their iron grip on his wrist loosens - but only because they're reaching forward to grab him by the front of his shirt, instead. They act quickly: they run a few steps, as fast as they can, before yanking him forward to throw him in front of them, hopefully past the corner store and out of sight of the cursed lighting shop. There's another snapping noise as the effort opens a crack in their shoulder. At least their arm didn't come off. ]

[ They're apologizing? Why are they apologizing to him? Didn't he hurt them?

Perhaps this is the moment he's acted out hundreds of times on stage; someone has gone mad, and the other must kill them to, theoretically, save them both. He supposes that's alright. It wouldn't be a bad way to go. He'd rather not die right now, he has someone he wants to take care of and he doesn't want to leave the rest of the mall dwellers by themselves, and he especially doesn't want to make this poor soul have to kill him.

His arms are flailing, his legs are kicking, and yet he's being jostled around like a puppet. The limbs are still trying to attack and yet his thoughts are still of the impending guilt of the situation, and— ]

shinsha time

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1/2

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now i feel bad for wataru

that's worse than any pain in the world

maybe he's a nice boy after all...

look at this cute rock though, 1/2

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