asgardchrysalis | INTRO LOG + SKADI CURSE.

INTRO LOG + SKADI CURSE.

FEBRUARY INTRO LOG( FEB 16TH & 17TH )

february 16 ↴
INTRO: NEW WANDERERS' ARRIVAL!

Our batch of new Wanderers wake this morning, as all new Wanderers have before, on a plush bed with a mild but lingering sense of recent disorientation. Frigg greets them as per normal, though rather than outright escorting Wanderers to the front doors this time, she and Sigyn allow the Wanderers time and space to leave their bed, meet the pantheon, and even depart the palace at their own pace - but not without a warning. All Wanderers must choose a deity to tether to before dawn the next day, or else one of the gods will choose them. This is of grave importance, as that's precisely how long the magic giving them form is able to last untethered before the Mother's own magic overwhelms it.

(Though the gods are more than willing to allow Wanderers to leave, it's worth noting that many a castle servant - natives, born in this land - might see fit to intercede and insist on the choosing of a god before Wanderers step off the Gladsheim Palace grounds.)

Stepping outside, you're greeted by an almost bright and sunny day... Undermined thoroughly by a sharp, biting wind that permeates any small gap in your clothing. I bet the gods might give you a sweater, if you ask. It probably won't even look that absurd, depending on which one you ask. A trail of what seems like stringless balloons float at eye level from just outside the palace door, guiding Wanderers down the path to a notice board just outside the palace grounds. On this notice board, Wanderers find a brief handwritten guide to accessing the city map on their cuffs, specifically denoting the little colored house icons ( ⌂ ) to help Wanderers make their way to each god's housing.

Also on this board appear to be a variety of job listings, for those who want to get more involved in Asgard as a whole. But let's not get ahead of ourselves, shall we? There's more than enough time for that once you've chosen a god to tether to in the first place.

february 17 ↴
GOD CURSE: CHARACTER-BUILDING WITH SKADI.

The storm brewing within Skadi is hardly a secret. She was impatient during the gods' supposedly unanimous address, and in the days to follow, Sigyn (with all her desperately good intentions) tried to balm the irritation but only abraded the goddess further still. She attended the Wanderers' arrival purely by the letter of her duty and swept back out the doors as soon as that duty released her, and since then she's been holed up in her temple, her pointy-faced statues positioned just outside as sentinels meant to intimidate mortals away.

They dared to tell her that she does nothing. Nothing for the Wanderers, that is. Nothing to help them grow and self-actualize, as if these 'Wanderers' are so much more important than Asgard itself, which weakens by the day as her fellow gods fling their magic about to overprotect the Wanderers, or even to satisfy their whims. The consensus to draw back some of that wasteful protection would have pleased her, if she weren't so thoroughly fixated on the slight that preceded it.

They want her to help the Wanderers self-actualize? So be it. There's no better way, truly, than to confront and overcome the ways in which you're flawed.

So the morning after arrival day, many Wanderers wake up with a stinging, itching spot somewhere on their body. Maybe their arm, maybe their back, maybe their throat. In that spot, as it turns out, is a set of words in a deep ruddy brown (almost like old blood) under their skin as if tattooed in place. But these aren't just any words - they prey directly into the Wanderer's fears, their regrets, their insecurities, and their mistakes. They're facing down some of the worst things they've ever thought or feared about themselves.

The other gods, of course, are eager and willing to try to relieve the poor Wanderers of these cursed marks... but they find that it's not quite so easy. Wanderers who seek a god's removal of the words find that not only do the words remain, but a new set appears: Flees the truth.

But that's fine = For most Wanderers, these words disappear on their own in a day or two. A handful of unlucky souls find that their marks linger indefinitely, or seem to disappear but return at truly inopportune occasions down the line.

MOD NOTES

This is the February intro log and Skadi's curse, our mini-event for this month!

Skadi's curse is is entirely opt-in - not all Wanderers are affected - and is detailed more fully in the 'This Month's Events' section of the February Bulletin, and you're welcome to direct any follow-up questions to the Bulletin's mod questions top-level.

You've also likely noticed that god jobs are now live! The listings themselves can be found here (same link as within the 'arrival' prompt), with a brief FAQ featured over here.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Lan Zhan swears he can hear his heartbeat, breath ragged as he looks over Wei Ying's back. This is because of him. Lan Zhan is the cause of this and his precious, exquisite Wei Ying has taken even this on. It had been the reason he'd never wanted Wei Ying to know, aside from pure vanity of how terrible they look.

He pulls Wei Ying to him, covering his back with his chest as he presses his face to the back of Wei Ying's neck. "Not because of you," he manages, eyes filling as his chest shudders to take a steady breath. "Not because of you. Never Wei Ying's fault. I did this. I accepted my punishment. Would do it again."

"You were punished because you loved me," Wei Wuxian whispers, grateful to be facing away as a too hot tear spills down his cheek. "As were all the people I loved most. No one else remained alive to hold me in good memory, and they beat you for it, Lan Zhan."

"Then blame them," he whispers fiercely as his own tears spill onto Wei Ying's neck. It isn't right. It isn't right after years of suffering, after losing his family, after killing himself right in front of Lan Zhan that Wei Ying should be made to suffer further.

"Blame the elders I beat. Blame Uncle. Blame me for waiting until after you died to make a stand. Not yourself."

He kisses along the soft, pale skin of Wei Ying's neck, heart beating frantically as he feels Wei Ying's breath hitch. "Proud of you. Proud you stood up for what is right."

"Until I didn't." He covers Lan Zhan's hands with his own, rubbing at his knuckles as he feels dampness bloom against his nape. "It isn't only that. I'm ashamed, Lan Zhan." He hadn't been before, but in the bliss of ignorance he hadn't known how much Lan Zhan cared for him, how much he would suffer if Wei Wuxian were not around.

"I didn't let you help me when you asked to. I didn't trust that the Wen clan would be safe if I left. And I thought - I thought I was making it better for all of you when I let myself fall. I always think I am so smart, but I get it wrong so often. Why am I like this?"

He hugs Wei Ying more tightly, as if he could push his love through, wishing he could wrap Wei Ying up in it and make him feel how desperate he loves him.

"We were so young," he murmurs. "I had been self-righteous and stubborn, how could Wei Ying believe I would do the right thing rather than what the rules dictated? Wen clan would not have survived without you. I should have stayed, instead. Wei Ying is not wrong. It is hard to do the right thing as Wei Ying tried to do."

Wei Wuxian shakes his head. He appreciates Lan Zhan's devotion, but if he had stayed, they both would have met the same end, but Lan Zhan's would have been even bloodier. "They would have turned on you, too," he says. "Hurt you even worse. If I had your blood on my hands, too, I would have already walked into the river."

Lan Zhan moves around to face Wei Ying, hands immediately going up to wipe away Wei Ying's tears.

"I am so proud of you, Wei Ying. Am proud of who you are, every part of you. Am proud that you chose me to love," he says, hands sliding down to Wei Ying's shoulders, so pale and thin and vulnerable. "Not just love blinding me. I am proud of you. You are the best man I have ever known."

Wei Wuxian gives a wet laugh, but his eyes are warm when he looks at him, his dear, kind Lan Zhan. "And you are the best I've known." The best most people will know, Wei Wuxian expects, but even so, Lan Zhan does not know everything.

His irksome trembling returns as he steels himself, uncurling the fingers he'd spread automatically over his belly one by one. "There's one more," he says, voice catching until he makes himself breathe. "I'm afraid, Lan Zhan," he admits, pausing before the entirety of he hated you anyway can be seen. He wants a moment, just one moment more of Lan Zhan thinking the world of him. Even if he's not convinced he deserves it, it's a balm all the same. "You might think less of me."

He wants to just say no, impossible, he can't but he doesn't think that is what Wei Ying needs to hear. There may be something that shocks him but nothing could make him love Wei Ying less so he simply nods and gestures towards Wei Ying's belly.

"I will never not want you, never not love you," he assures, vaguely grateful that this place stopped with two words for him, glad he can focus on Wei Ying.

"I know there are things you are keeping to yourself. The scar I've asked about. This, this thing. I am ready for all of it. Ready for all of you. Tell me."

Wei Wuxian nods, clinging to that assurance for as long as it remains unwithdrawn. He pulls his hands away entirely, settling them against his knees, which he tries not to grip too hard. "I told you I was injured in the burning of Lotus Pier. That was true - Madame Yu whipped me with Zidian, and Wang Lingjiao nearly convinced her to cut my hand off, but it's not the day I received this scar."

He wets his lips, wishing suddenly for water as latent dread mounts within him. "I'm sure you remember Wen Zhuliu."

Lan Zhan's brow furrows as he tries to connect the scar to Wen Zhuliu, a man he has not thought of in many years.

His head snaps up as soon as the thought forms, Wei Ying has lost his core. He had never heard of the attack leaving a scar his mind frantically starts trying to connect broken connections he'd simply accepted he would never understand.

"Core-Melting Hand," he whispers, sucking in a horrified breath. "Did he - when?"

"He didn't," answers Wei Wuxian, in this moment undecided as to whether Lan Zhan's quick mind is a blessing or a curse. "He didn't take mine. Jiang Cheng and shijie and I escaped, Wen Ning helped us, but Jiang Cheng went back. I don't know why," he says, brow furrowed. "We knew his parents were dead. I think he must have wanted to collect their bodies, but he wasn't thinking clearly, and of course he was caught. He was always so..."

He swallows. "By the time I managed to rescue him, Wen Zhuliu's work was already done."

Lan Zhan knows well that Jiang Wanyin still has a core, remembering all to clearly him utilizing his sword and Zidian in that final battle. He remembers him striking the sword into the cliff, he remember that tremor of the rocks being the reason Wei Ying let go.

He remembers very, very well Jiang Wanyin's perfectly functioning core.

"Jiang Wanyin still has a core," he murmurs, nostrils flared and face pale as he tries to brace himself. "Why?"

Wei Wuxian's eyes settle on his knuckles, stark white despite all his efforts not to squeeze down on his own bones. It's not as if it was a selfless act. Jiang Cheng would have died without a core, if not immediately, then after years of wasting. And Jiang Yanli would have died of a broken heart instead of a pierced one. Wei Wuxian wanted his family. He wanted his brother. And he had a way.

It wasn't selfless.

"Because he has mine, Lan Zhan."

His first thought, his immediate first thought is a memory. He remembers demanding that Wei Ying tell him the truth, remembers demanding in that inn after they'd found Wei Ying after three months that he tell Lan Wangji what had happened.

He'd thought Wei Ying was being reckless, overconfident. He'd thought Wei Ying had chosen path of demonic cultivation merely because he could.

"How?" he grates out, leaning forward as if he'd been stabbed, stomach turning at the implications, at the way it made so much more sense than anything has up until now. "How? How?"

Lan Zhan looks so colorless and awful that Wei Wuxian throws out a hand, catching his shoulder before he lists any closer. "Wen Qing," he answers shortly. "I begged her. She didn't want to, but after many days of coming to her on my knees, she helped us."

There are so many things to regret, but Wei Wuxian won't have a one of them landing at her feet. "She saved his life, which is all I ever wanted. Don't be angry with her."

The scar. That long, precise scar. It would have had to have been pulled out, cut out. Wei Ying had his core cut out of his belly and told no one. He cut his most vital part out and handed it over and told no one.

Lan Zhan remembers asking about Suibian time and time again, remembers begging and cajoling about the use of demonic cultivation. He remembers thinking Wei Ying was simply being prideful.

What must have that felt like, to have your core ripped from your body?

All these years, all these years and all these months together and Lan Zhan had not known. His stomach lurches, a sensation he has not felt since he was a small child and simply willed himself never to retch again makes itself known and in an instant he is stumbling to his feet and out the door, the meager contents of his stomach emptying into the grass.

"Lan Zhan." The words eke from Wei Wuxian's throat, and he gets unsteadily to his feet, following Lan Zhan before he's told his feet to move. His hands cramp, their need to reach out and comfort denied again and again, for it's he who has done this harm. It doesn't make sense that he can also calm it.

The sound of Lan Zhan being sick curdles in his own stomach, and for a lack of better ideas Wei Wuxian sits down hard, fingers straying not for the first time to day to his belly to try and rub away the words. "Please don't," he whispers, hating himself for putting yet another burden on Lan Zhan, but he can't bear to see his pain. "Lan Zhan, please, please don't hurt."

"I thought you were being wreckless," he moans, years and years of confusion clearing moment by moment, horrible new threads connecting memories he'd spent years trying to illuminate.

"They vilified you. I, I snapped at you. I lectured you. And you -," he breathes finally looking up at Wei Ying in horror and shame. "You tore your magic out. You, you endured all of us. Wei Ying."

"I didn't want you to feel this," says Wei Wuxian quietly, reaching for the edge of his robe on the bed. He shrugs into it, wrapping it tight around his torso. "Any of you. And so we lied to Jiang Cheng about how his core was returned to him. The Wens caught me when I was waiting for him to come back from the mountain. They threw me into the Burial Mounds. Without resentful energy, I wouldn't have survived."

Wei Wuxian clutches his own elbows. "I knew what you all thought about it, but I wanted to live, Lan Zhan."

Lan Zhan stumbles over, seeing Unworthy out out the corner of his eye and knowing now more than ever that is is true.

None of them were worthy of this man.

"I am so sorry," he says, clutching at Wei Ying's arms. "We were wrong. We were ignorant and wrong. Forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive," answers Wei Wuxian, looking into Lan Zhan's miserable eyes. He reaches forward despite Lan Zhan's grip to touch his cheek, trying to smooth the grimace from his handsome face. "I didn't want anyone to know. And you were right to be fearful. Wielding resentful energy was bearable. Wielding Yin metal was not. If I have regrets about cultivating the way I did, it's not letting that metal go before it was too late."

"So many years," Lan Zhan murmurs half to himself, eyes falling shut as let's his face rest against Wei Ying's hand.

"Wei Ying suffered alone all this time. Did not think my opinion of you could get any higher yet daily you find new ways to increase it. It must have been terrible. Cannot fathom it."

Wei Wuxian shakes his head. "It wasn't what I wanted, but it wasn't terrible. We struggled in Yiling, but we were content enough. I could have lived that life in enough peace to be happy."

It hadn't been until the Wen clan was taken from him, grandmothers and elderly uncles hung from Lanling walls, that life truly became unbearable. In truth, Wei Wuxian can barely remember it - there is only fury and grief in those memories, hate so thick he could taste it in his mouth like blood.

"Not, not that," Lan Zhan manages, although now he is imagining living in that dark place with no core, no warmth, no defense other than the same dark magic crawling over those bones. To be thrown in there after such a procedure, alone?

He has to snap himself out of those thoughts lest he lose his stomach yet again.

"This," he says, pressing his hand against Wei Ying's belly. "This must have hurt. This must have been terrible. Cannot imagine how it felt."

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