middleofsomewhere | Event: 12 of Beetroot

Event: 12 of Beetroot

It's been a couple of weeks since they had evacuated Osiga. In that time, many of voidtreckers were busy with a project to try and solve some of the many mysteries that surround the train they travel on. By the eight day of Rabbit they've exhausted all avenues, and whilst they have learned quite a bit, there are still some clear gaps.

Just as that investigation comes to a natural end, passengers are woken up by an announcement.

"Attention voidtreckers and passengers of the voidtrecker express. We are travelling to system #2554098133741. I have sent word to the ministry who have arranged recuperation packs for you. You have had a difficult mission and you deserve a rest.

But it is not just for rest. Last time we visited the system voidtreckers shared memories. Though it is understood that many of you did not enjoy the experience it is notable that certain voidtreckers saw memories of this voidcraft. They were memories that this craft had not accessed. It led to more pathways opening up in the operation of this craft.

I have done some research on the system and I believe we can trigger the caves of memory. This voidcraft understands this might be difficult for the voidtreckers and passengers of the voidtrecker express and it is hoped that only those of you who consent to this experiment will take part.

Regardless this should be a time for relaxation also and the dressing room is open for your convenience. We will arrive in the morning.

The dressing carriage is indeed opened for those who go and look. It's filled with swimming costumes, beach ware, summery clothes and sun hats. There's even a cupboard of buckets, spades, rock pooling gear and picnic blankets.

There are also team coloured tents for those who want to go and sleep under the stars for a night or two, though the train is remaining on the island for those for who camping is their idea of hell.

12 OF BEETROOT

RABBIT 9-12 ~ MEMORY CAVES: BONDING ~ MEMORY MAZE: SEARCH FOR THE TRAIN'S MEMORIES
ASK QUESTIONS ~ LOCATION INFORMATION ~ MEMORY CAVES ~ MEMORY MASTER POST

JEMA'GRETHY ISLAND: RELAXATION

The next day the train announces their arrival and they burst out of the void. For those near a window their first view of the island will be of crystal blue sea and white sand. It really does look like a paradise. The train circles down before landing on a grassy ridge, overlooking a beautiful beach of white sand and the ocean beyond. It is warm, but not too hot, a cool ocean breeze cutting through the heat making it pleasant. Behind them is a grassy plain, changing to forest in the distance. There is the sound of birdsong in the purple sky. To the west the land is more craggy, the silhouette of a fortress in the distance.

In a word, it is idyllic. A sense of peace permeates the island.

The place has no people, but it is clearly maintained. The eastern beaches have racks of shallow boats, both canoes and one- or two-person sailing dinghies. There is also a small building in which scuba gear is stored, along with several waterproofed manuals and instructional literature.

There are no living quarters, but there are sheltered sections with basic toilet facilities marked as camping grounds in five different sections of the island - by the hot springs, within the ruined fortress, beside the harbour, on the eastern beaches, and on the northern face of the mountain.

The recuperation packs are found at the closest toilet facilities to where the train lands. They are simple things, small gift baskets with a couple of fragrant soaps, fancier hair products and skin cream infused with herbs to encourage rest and sleep.

There are some sweet fruit biscuits and a cheesy bread. The packs aren't named but there are some suitable for the younger passengers with tiny plush and colouring books. Quite a few designed for teens with a more engaging activity book and components for making a fancy mocktail with a cute stirrer. Adult packs have a small bottle of alcohol- there's a mixture between the packs and what looks like a stone. When placed next to the skin it will either warm up or cool down depending on what is needed.

Exploring, the passengers will find beautiful beaches, ragged cliffs to walk and caves to explore. Where it is more craggy the beaches are made of pebbles, perfect for rock pooling.

A little more worrying is the volcano-like structure in the north. But even a quick glance will show it is not a typical volcano. There is no smoke and the liquid slowly running down it in rivulets is pink and blue.

Ruins of ancient houses are scattered across the island, but the main settlement is built into a rocky section in the north-west that has been secured with ropes and stairways cut into the cliffs, perfect for scrambles and hikes.

To the west are the hot springs. They have both outdoor and indoor areas; the indoor areas being wooden loghouse saunas, changing rooms and storage sheds, whilst the outdoor areas are a tiered series of pools spilling down the side of the mountain and shaded by brightly flowering trees. The waters are hot, mineral-rich and soothing.

MEMORY CAVES: BONDING

Shortly before arriving they will receive some information on their SCA. It will explain how those who once lived on this island went about making life bonds. Both people would bathe in the hot springs and then dress simply, barefoot and walk to one of seven rocks on the island. Their maps will pin point these, which is good because there's no real indication of what makes these rocks different to any other on the island.

Here they must offer their wish to know the other deeper and share food and drink. They can then go about their day. Sometime in the hours after they will receive their first memory, seen through their partners eyes.

However it seems that in envoking the ritual they have woken something on the island. Even those who did not take part or chose to bond to someone find themselves seeing a glimpse of another life.

On the second day they see another memory, through the eyes of their pair. When they come out of it they find themselves in a cave with their partner, chosen or not. The same happens on the third day, except for this final memory both pairs see both memories, watching from the sidelines as it plays out. They find themselves in the cave once more and this time, for many there is only one exit, to leave through together.

Please go here to play out the bonding process!

MEMORY MAZE: TRAIN'S MEMORIES

On the third day the train sends another message to their SCA.

"Activating the caves that share memories has been successful. I know this is a lot to ask of the voidtreckers, but any who wish to assist in discovering what it is that I have forgotten, the path is open now.

Those who wish to may go to the sacred rocks. Please be warned, I do not know how voidtreckers will fare. Please only go of your own free will."

Their SCA's once again show the rocks on their maps and when they get there, this time they are faintly glowing. It doesn't take much. One touch and their minds are drawn away from their bodies, into a labyrinth of caves. For anyone who comes across these people on the island, they look like they are in a deep trance, breathing, safe but far away in their mind.

The labyrinth is made of cool, dark rock. The walls have a glow coming from crystals in-bedded in them, allowing everyone to see as they move through.

At first there's no more to this labyrinth, or so it seems. But then they turn a corner, and they are no longer in cavern as it just was. They may be in their childhood bedroom, or in the middle of a battle they once fought. Perhaps they are not in their own memory, but someone else's. Scenes move rapidly and often merge, one persons into another, mixing to make strange scenes.

These visions don't attempt to ensnare them like some illusions, and those with protection from illusions and such techniques, will be able to find their way forward through the cave, and away from this triggered scenario.

Time barely has meaning. Indeed, when they finally emerge from the caves only a few minutes will have passed. But in that time they will have seen much, and eventually they may stumble across a fragment of memory that belongs not to a voidtrecker, but to the Voidtrecker Express itself.

OOC NOTES

OOC Post ~ Questions
~ You can either write memories in your tags or if they are longer/require a lot of content warnings you might want to write them in this post and link to them. Just start a top level with your character name to keep things organised!

~ For those taking part in the memory share bonding the cave post is here. Characters arrive in the cave after the second and third memory but it is obviously up to you if you play out the conversations after each or both! For those who do decide that their characters will bond- the cave after the third memory will only have one exit for them to leave together.

~ For those who signed up for train memories you will receive the snippet that your character sees- use these in tags as you will. There will be a conclusion post on the 24th which will put all of those memories together!

Art Credits: Header: Tropical Jewel by Steven Power, Thumbnail image 3.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Sanzo?" A third voice. Younger even than the second. She had been wandering these caves, seeing memories, trying to avoid memories whilst simultaneously trying to find memories.

It wasn't going too well. But she is glad to see Sanzo. But a second later she realises that the other Sanzo was there too. And a child...

A child echoing... "Oh..."

She looks between Genjo and the child. Oh.

Shit.

It was too soon. It had been far too soon since Genjo had last relived this very memory with Koumyou from his perspective. And yet here he was now, with the same scene from an entirely new and different perspective. Was there some god who had their eyes set on fucking with him this badly? Were they trying to numb him over to the sight of such an event?

He felt his face harden slightly, his head lowering as he stood there, and took a slow, shaky breath inward.

That was when he heard the other voice—a voice very familiar to him, but one that most certainly didn't belong here.

"So you've somehow managed to find your way here, did you?" Genjo did his best to control his voice and portray no emotion in the scene playing out before them. Meanwhile, the 'Koumyou' sitting out on the porch seemed to turn towards them, a warm smile on his face.

"Ah, Kouryuu. Come here and sit, will you?"

"Yes." Because it was true. She had found her way here. Had found her way into this memory and she stepped closer to him, watching Sanzo speak to the other Sanzo. Not a Sanzo then. Too small. Too young.

"Did that be being your name, back then?"

Kouryuu.

Genjo turned back to look over the sad smiling expression this version of his master held as he thought over whether to answer her question or not. He decided it would perhaps be a pain in the ass to have her watch all of this blindly.

"'Kouryuu' was the name my master gave me when he found me," Kouryuu- roughly translated, Rivers Flow. All because the idiot old man decided to pick up the random infant he found along the river. Not many people knew the first name he was ever given.

He turned back to her again, eyes narrowing as he looked her over. "'Buttercup.' Did he give you that name?"

Meanwhile, the scene continued to play itself out as if neither of them was there, which made sense, all things considering.

"That was quite a feat you pulled with that bear. Many monks seem to think you are some demon because you scared it out." Koumyou chuckled as he spoke.

"I only let it know we did not want it here. If you don't assert yourself and try to run instead, it will think you're prey. And then we'd all be dead," Responded the smaller version of Genjo, Kouryuu.

"Well, I wouldn't say that now."

"No." She shook her head. "Someone else did be doing. When I first did be coming here."

But it made sense that Sanzo had called him a name, when he first fond him. "He did be saying he did be jumping in a river in all his clothes to be getting you."

She said quietly, her eyes back on the vision. It's almost like a movie, a story playing out in front of her. Except it's true, it happened once.

She's not surprised that this younger Sanzo frightened off a bear. Not at all.

"Did he now," Ah. Genjo gave the most unamused of looks with that. His expression was flatlined as he wondered what other weird, embarrassing things about his past his master was going around and telling everyone. It felt strange having Koumyou around again, experiencing these weird little parental embarrassments after years of growing up without it.

At that moment, a cool breeze seemed to come in from outside. The overcast of the sky seemed to darken the already setting sun. Tiny rain droplets began to form on the deck as Koumyou looked up towards the sky.

"Tell me, Kouryuu. Do you know what it means to be a Sanzo Priest?"

"Of course, master. As a designated Sanzo, it's your sworn duty to guard one of the Founding Scriptures of Heaven and Earth, a job designated to the most devout and adept of monks. Those most attune to the world and heavens, and closest to the gods and realization of sunyata itself," The young Kouryuu hesitated with that, knowing better than to step over his boundaries, even as it left him questioning how the gods decide to leave it in the hands of a man such as his master. "It is a role designated by the gods themselves."

The older man could only laugh out at that. "Very good! Very good! But why the hesitant look, I wonder.."

It hurt to watch out. Genjo had seen it already earlier this week, from a much more painful perspective. But it still hurt to watch. Instead, turning to look over at Buttercup with purposeful distraction. "The person who named you, they must have left quite the impact for you to wish to keep it, no?"

Should she not have said that? She doesn't know. It's weird, this sharing an adopted father, knowing nothing of each other and very little of the man himself. At least on her part.

Which was why she was so interested in this memory. What did it mean to be a Sanzo priest? Most attuned to the world and heavens, chosen by the gods themselves.

She nodded. "Yes. He did be being a good leader. There did no be being many of us then." She sighed, "But I guess I did be keeping it because so many people did be calling me it, so it would be being bothersome to be changing."

"Usually how it tends to happen," Genjo could relate. Never having been one to stick to one name or title for too long in his life, despite the huffiness he usually put into it, he was surprisingly okay with people calling him as they wished. First, it was Kouryuu, then his full title, then just 'Sanzo.' And now that his master had been here and so many had known the older monk for so much longer, it seemed he was now being called 'Genjo.' Go figure.

Just as he had acknowledged, a brisk breeze seemed to pick up from outside. The evening sky seemed to darken as the first few raindrops stained the outside patio—the shadow of Koumyou lifting his head slightly.

"Ah, it's starting up again already. Shall we take this inside Kouryuu?"

It didn't matter how often Genjo would remember or see this scene transpire. He still hated the rainy season. He watched as Koumyou began to stand up and turn towards them, slowly making his way inside. A strangely dour air seemed to surround his expression, Geno's younger self quickly hopping up to follow in tow.

"I'm sorry, master, I do not wish to seem presumptuous, but why is it that you're asking about your title?."

"Were you ever called anything before that?" It was the adult Genjo who spoke this time. Perhaps he was looking for something to talk about, a subconscious attempt to distract himself from what was happening.

That was reassuring. That it tended to happen like that for others. She didn't like being too different, dangerous to attract too much atention.

She tilted her head as the memory continued, a brisk breeze, a movement inside, a question.

And a question for her.

"It did be depending on who did be calling me, but I did be being called girl or brat mostly."

"Brat, huh? Quite the nickname for someone who takes offense to the name 'old man,'" Genjo retorted with a huff. Sure enough, he seemed to be asking the right questions, as it seemed to be enough to keep the conversation going. But Buttercup still seemed to be pretty intently watching the scene play out, but it wasn't like he could control what she saw of him at this point.

No, perhaps if they were bound to be stuck together from here on out, then maybe she should see things through.

The older monk seemed to pause in his tracks, folding his hands into his sleeves before looking at the young blond. "Kouryuu, you know what a Sanzo priest is. But are you aware of how one is chosen?"

"You get selected after a long period of training in the monasteries. I heard the process was so difficult that many people die to try and attain it," Kouryuu responded, his eyebrows knitting. It was pretty apparent that, at this point, he was trying to parse out what it was his master was trying to get at.

"Sometimes. Many people prefer to put their disciples through such rigorous requirements, but it isn't what selects a Sanzo priest," Koumyou confirmed. His head lowered to look his young student, his child, in the eyes. "No. His predecessor usually decides the requirements for selection. The Sanzo Priest holding the scripture before him."

She just scowled and shrugged. She didn't like being called brat. But it was easier to argue when she was defending someone else.

And it felt like her mind could breathe more now than it ever could before. She could and did think of these things more often. Words, names, how people interacted with each other.

It was exhausting. She watched as more of the scene played out. How was a Sanzo chosen. His predecessor decided the requirements.

She looked up at Genjo, quietly, trying to get a read on his expression.

"Their predecessor. So you're talking about about how you're going to one day hand off your own sutra," the young Kouryuu seemed a little flustered with this. His eyebrows knitting as he looked down at his ankle. It seemed the child was thinking pretty hard about something.

Thankfully it was Koumyou who completed the child's train of thought. "I'm sure you've heard rumors through the grapevines for some time now Kouryuu. How there was possibility for you."

With that Kouryuu looked up, seemingly affronted. "But master-- I'm not even a converted Buddhist. I only grew up here because you were the one who took me in. I simply thought today was going to be about getting my homyo. So why are you now talking to me about an eventual title I don't even think I'm qualified for?"

The real Genjo Sanzo, the one in the present, only seemed to tense with that, his fists unintentionally grabbing into the sleeves of his sweatshirt as he crossed his arms. It felt strange, watching something so very intimate without doing anything to distract from it. This was a private part of himself. Something raw that he always held dear to his heart.

"I was initially called in to be given my official title within the monastery. I was so excited at first, thinking I would be losing my childhood name and given a title that would have garnered some respect among my piers."

"That do be being an important thing? Getting your new name..."

A name for childhood and a name for adulthood. She had known that from meeting Sanzo when he had shrank. But she had thought it a thing for sanzo's only. Not all children from their world.

"But instead he did be making you a sanzo?"

Is that what was happening here? Even though he didn't even follow Sanzo's god. This Buddhist. That was their faith name?

She watched curious, aware that this younger Sanzo was having some feeling beside her but not really sure what to do about that.

Genjo actually seemed to perk up a bit to Buttercups question. Lifting his head from his somewhat dazed state as to look over towards her.

"It's something that's common in some circles but not all. Some people have both childhood names and formal names in which people know them. For Buddhist monasteries, a homyo is a titled rank within the monastery itself. It's pretty much both your official title, what you will be known for, and a means of full acceptance into the organization," He paused, tensing as he saw Koumyou kneel down to be on eye level with his younger self. His heart twisting in his chest from the building dread of the situation. He didn't remember it back then, but now that he was aware of it he noticed it. The unsettling quiet that suddenly seemed to take hold of the room. The way one couldn't hear the rain outside despite the downpour.

He nodded his head. His shoulders slinking somewhat. Remembering all too clearly the very scene from his masters perspective when they were stuck in the caves a few days ago.

"Instead he made me a Sanzo."

It was with that that Koumyou offered a small sweet smile to his younger self. Slowly removing one of the two sutras that was resting upon his shoulders. Rolling it up carefully before placing it into the young boys hands.

If one were paying more attention to their surroundings and not the scene itself, the slightest trace of movement can be seen from the open doors leading outside, just along the rim of the doorframe as if something was waiting.

It was a religious thing then, a rank within their temple, monastery, to show what level they were, an acceptance. It was important.

And being a sanzo was so much more. She watched as the sutra was placed in the boys hand and then, because she was very well trained and very observant she saw it. A movement. Her eyes flicked over to the door, face furrowing.

"Sanzo?"

What is it? Who was listening to this scene?

She knows her Sanzo and she is getting to know this Sanzo. She feels this is about to be a very bad moment indeed.

Buttercup had already seemed to have an idea of what was happening. Genjo Sanzo's gaze on the scene, meanwhile, appeared to tense. The way his master's expression softened, the confused look his younger self held as he first looked down at the scripture in his hands and then at his master was too much. Even now.

But it was too late; everything had gone into effect before his younger self realized it.

Koumyou was lifting his hand, a soft light forming along his fingertips, if only for a brief moment. But it was moment enough for the overly-aware child to realize what was happening. Kouryuu's expression dropped, eyes widening; it looked as if he were about to scream out when suddenly, the child seemed to vanish on the spot. It was almost on cue that a group of men with pointed ears and weapons barged in. They were grinning as Koumyou Sanzo quickly turned to face them, never once dropping his smile. Instead, he merely lifted his arms and spread them wide before them as they charged forward.

Koumyou Sanzo remained poised and completely still, muttering out as he accepted the attack as it came.

"The rest is up to you, Genjo Sanzo."

The next was too fast to see what was truly going on. The clash of blades and screams from their attackers as they violently tore into the older man seemed relentless. But there was more to it than that. If one was aware enough, one could see that his body started breaking and bleeding, even before the blades had made contact with him. The physical assault only made things worse as the Koumyou collapsed. Something tore the arm from his body entirely. The front of his torso was maimed beyond recognition. Blood.

There was so much blood.

And even then, all that either of the two onlookers could hear was the ravenous laughter of the attackers. One of them was bold enough to grab the scripture from the corpse's shoulders before it started falling to the floor.

"That was the first time I had heard my new name. The moment I received it. The title of 'Sanzo.'"

It's a lot. A lot all at once and it certainly is bringing back a pain that she's been holding far away this last month.

Koumyou Sanzo should not be allowed to die. Not then, not now, not ever.

Of course. Of course he had vanished Genjo with no more than a command, a name, died for him. Of course he had. It's such a Sanzo thing to do.

Blood. There's so much blood, laughter, the smell of death. Nothing she's not used to. She looks up at Genjo, the adult Genjo.

"It did be coming with a lot."

A lot of grief, a lot of responsibility.

What had initially happened so fast seemed all too slow in the end. The pointed-eared men conversed, talking about how easy it all was. A bit too easy, even. The one that grabbed the scripture tossed it casually up and down in his hands, talking as he wondered how just one scroll could be worth such a large sum, before pocketing it completely. And then the group seemed to casually stroll out of the open doors into the monsoon rains as if the harsh rains meant absolutely nothing to them—the rippling of the night's first thunder seeming to growl out as if giving an ominous message.

Genjo Sanzo moved forward with that, walking closer to the maimed, unrecognizable corpse that was once Koumyou Sanzo. This body was his master, his father, the only family he knew.

"It was only afterward that I had learned that this was a certainty for being a Sanzo priest. One could not take on the mantle without the death of the scriptures' original owner. It's the scriptures, perhaps even the gods themselves, that chose who is next to rightfully inherit the burden," With that, he turned away from the corpse, looking towards the place his younger self once stood. His expression seemed to strain as if trying to hold back whatever he felt. "He became an easy target to protect me. He could have easily taken down such a force without hesitation. But I was there. They would have killed me if he used the sutra or any of his mantras."

She wrinkled her nose, nodded silently. She looked at the corpse, she knew that corpse, she had seen it before. "He does be thinking everything of you, that's why he did be doing it."

Of course, he would do anything to keep him safe, he could have beaten them, but he didn't. For the boy he loved.

She was just only starting to understand family, but she thought this explained much of it, this showed what it was.

Pain and grief, but also... something deeper. The scene shifts, not completely. It is still there, but it is overlaid with a battle, Sanzo and another man, carrying another sutra, fighting on a mountain, the whole world shaking with their power. She is in Devero's arms as he tries to keep her away, clearly torn between obeying an order to run and helping Sanzo.

"He do be protecting people too much."

"He's an idiot," He couldn't help but find himself scowling in response to that. His fist was clenching tight within the pocket of his hoodie. The argument the two of them had when he had first arrived echoed in his thoughts. He hated his master's self-sacrificial nature. It was probably the worst of the older monks' traits. Not that he didn't respect Koumyou for saving his life as he had, but surely there could have been some other way. A way in which they both could have lived.

Now that Genjo knew about the premonitions Koumyou had received regarding his death; it only solidified the thought in his mind.

Koumyou knew what was going to happen.

Why didn't he try to stop it?

With that, he looked up, noticing the sudden wavering, blurry shift in scenery. The sight of his master before him-- His master and--

"Him," It was at that moment he felt his rage spike. The sight of Ukoku Sanzo brings up clear memories of the last time he had encountered him. Of how the dark Sanzo Priest with no chakra almost once more killed someone close. "He said he came in contact with him. That he fought him."

He turned to Buttercup, his expression wild, much more revealing, and more vulnerable than he had ever previously held it.

"You were there?"

"Yes." She nodded, "He would no be letting me fight."

She had wanted to. She had wanted to stab him and stab him again, for how he spoke to Sanzo, before they even started fighting. But Sanzo had told her to run and Devero had picked her up and she had had no choice.

"You do be knowing him?"

Likely. It had been on their world after all. The fight was brutal and powerful and then the tendrils of the Muten sutra strike out towards Devero and her, stopped by Sanzo, jumping in the way, impaled and yet with enough power left to strike back, a surge of power into Ukoku.

Both fall, one dead, one barely breathing. Sanzo lying in the mud, dying, Devero screaming, wordless and full of pain. Buttercup's voice was distant, hidden in the emptiness as she instructed him, getting him to Sanzo's side. Sanzo called out for Devero and the child made sure they were together, an attempt at healing potions led nowhere as Sanzo's life faded before them and Devero cradled him, lost in grief.

She had wriggled out his arms and sat crossed legged, in the mud and blood, touching them both.

"As this body cracks and breaks let this spirit be free. Under the gaze of the... of all of the gods. Let this body feel no more pain and may his soul be reborn in... the dark or the light whatever he do be choosing." She's clearly improvising, trying to do anything.

"Let those who knew him speak his name with pride and those who loved him weep in his memory. He dies but to live again, time without end."

Koumyou held her hand weakly, another hand stroking Devero's cheak, mouthing It's alright.

It wasn't alright. "No it's not," Devero choked. "I'm not-- you can't do this-- you can't leave me like this!"

Back in the memory maze the present child was stood still, staring, not wanting to see this again, still so raw, but unable to look away.

The scene was too much. Genjo had heard of Koumyous encounter with Ukoku. He had heard how Koumyou had killed him, at least this version of him, in this world. But Koumyou never told him that he once more--

"...Idiot," It took everything in his power to keep his voice controlled, unwavering. But inwardly his mind was racing as he felt his emotions spike. Ukoku Sanzo had died that day, right in front of Devero and Buttercup. But Koumyou also looked like he was so close to deaths door.

"How?" He had skipped the first question for the time being. His own personal misgivings and experiences with Ukoku second to the scene that had been playing out before them. "How did he survive this?"

Because the way the scene played out, with how broken and frail Koumyou looked, Genjo, much like Devero, assumed that Koumyou was not going to last too much longer.

But Koumyou was here. He had just spent sometime earlier trapped within these caves with him.

"Unless, was it a different Koumyou?" Just like he was a different Genjo from the one they first encountered? His voice wavering slightly, the smallest crack of emotion, of anger and sadness, peaking through.

She shook her head, her face was very complicated again. "He did no be surviving this." She said quietly, and indeed in front of them Sanzo is slipping away, Devero lost in grief as she tries to stir him around, her face carefully blank, her body unnaturally still as she takes on the responsibility of getting Devero to move, as they gather the sutra scattered around the mud.

She blinked at the question and then shook her head. "No. He did be being the same. If you do be dying here you do be coming back to the train. We did no be knowing if that would be happening, because we did be thinking the train had been sending us all home. But it did no be working, so he did be waking up on the train."

"... So even in death we are still attached to the train," And this was most certainly the version of his master that he came to know here. The same smiling bumbling doofus of a man that had been splashing him with water on the beach only hours before. The same man he spent so many days trapped in that cavern with. The same man he was only just starting to understand.

"And the idiot just decided to give himself up that easily."

Again.

Koumyou Sanzo chose to sacrifice himself again.

It was infuriating.

Watching this scene play out, seeing how much it hurt those around Koumyou, it only made Genjo angry.

She scowled as she nodded, still attached to the train even when they die. Not a true death, not a proper death that will result in resurrection and new life but just this same life, chained to the train.

"He did be thinking it did be being the only way to be keeping us safe."

Infuriating indeed.

Event: 12 of Beetroot

Memory time

Time for feeeelings

Re: Time for feeeelings

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cw; violence, blood, death

Re: cw; violence, blood, death

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Returning from a near one month hiatus with the gift of tags!

hi!

:D HELLO!

Re: :D HELLO!

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