Truth Meme

[folkie]

Truth Meme

Somehow, there is kirin on you.

Most likely, it is the fur of the kirin that was caught in the environment of wherever you’ve been; there is a stray hair on you because one was on the seat you sat on upon the train or because it blew onto the brim of your hat in the wind.

Or it may be because you met the kirin—a playful ungulate moose-sized spirit who prefers not to speak—and engaged with him and gave him a pat, or a scratch behind an ear. Maybe the kirin nosed or licked your hand because you made him laugh (it’s an adorable ‘keh keh keh’ sound).

Unfortunately for both you and the kirin (who had not meant to trouble your day like this, truly), this exposure to his dander has only one reaction, and it happens to 100% of Star Children: you are compelled to tell the entire truth. About what is less specific; you are compelled simply to announce things about yourself—your life, experiences, thoughts, opinions, feelings. No matter if it’s something silly and inconsequential, deep or secretive, life-altering or commonplace. Some may choose to do this by employing Foxi and their relic; others by finding people to exchange truth with to face to face.

When you have met the kirin’s subconscious desire for four hours, you will be free from the truth telling and the recipient of 24 hours of good luck. The good luck will be sometime in the next year rather than in the next day, and you may have no idea where it came from, but you’ll know a lucky day when you have it!

• This meme is game canon unless marked otherwise at the start of threads! Threads can be used for spoons and application samples.
• Assume all characters involved on this meme are affected.
• Characters will compulsively state truths about themselves/their feelings on the network or in-person. Top-levels may include either/both options.
• Please include prompts in your top level.
• All questions will be answered with complete and total honesty. No special abilities, half-truths, or omissions can avoid sharing all of the truth.
• Meme is open until the next truth meme!
• After one month, you may use the kirin mechanic generally in game. It can be one-sided! All truth-telling characters must consent.

Comments

[zacrifice]

[Zack peers back up at Cloud, at first in surprise by the scrutiny, and then his brows furrow as the unspoken message sinks in (alongside the very obvious spoken one). Nobody's gonna make him, huh.

He should know better. Since coming here, he's had plenty of choices, plenty of free will. Maybe not during trials, but they don't last forever, and the in-between can be pretty great. Hasn't had to kill any friends or fight things he shouldn't have to or die for people who deserve better. Maybe his perspective's too screwed up, maybe in that aspect, Sharon's right. He should be pissed. He should hate Thirteen.

But she can't make him. No one can. Even Thirteen can't do it, besides the temporary shifts in certain trials here or there.]

You can't make me do this, either, [he says back with a soft tease in his tone, lips curving into a smile that- oh.

Wait, he's doing it right now. He can tell by the shift in Cloud's expression, the scrutinizing look and the narrowed eyes.] ...Not gonna let me get away with that this time, are you.

[moseyin]

[Cloud lifts a hand to Zack's face, holding it there and brushing his thumb over the swell his cheek, gazing down at him.] You don't gotta be angry, [he says softly, thumb stroking rhythmically, their voices in the room almost muffled as if the setting sunlight casting slanting shadows is pressing a blanket over their words. The room feels simultaneously too small and too big, in a good way. It's just them in here. It's only them in here.] But you gotta be here.

['Here.' Alive again, in whatever manner that means in a place like this. Building a life, in whatever capacity is available to them. Years and years of the both of them, drifting from place to place, going where ordered, belongings stuffed into canvas bags or abandoned. Cloud didn't bother decorating his room until just a couple months ago, and of all the things Zack's collected over the years, the only object he'd never leave behind is the Buster. Opposite ends of the spectrum but to the same purpose.

It's the same with feelings. Cloud, letting himself be shackled, the weight of his pain and emotions sometimes so great he can't barely get out of bed, can't hardly drag himself through the days until he makes it back up to the surface where the sunlight is. Zack, pushing every painful thing as far beneath him as he can manage, launching himself up into the sky to float above it. Beautiful, maybe even inspiring, but even birds get tired of flying. Eventually he'll come back down and all the shit he tried to soar above will be right there, ready and eager to put its claws back into him.

Zack doesn't have to be angry. But he has to be here. And everything he's been pushing beneath him is right here too, whether or not he wants it to be.

Cloud blinks slowly, watching Zack's face in the stretching shadows as he revels in the feeling of warm skin. In a memory he's resolutely ignoring for right now Zack's skin is cold, and wet, and the breaths at his lips bubble red but right here and now, Zack's tired and warm and his chest rises strong enough to lift Cloud a little bit with each sigh.

He leans down to kiss him. Pulls back.] Love you, [Cloud murmurs, still stroking Zack's face.]

[zacrifice]

[Does Cloud have any idea how healing he is to be around? He probably doesn't. Probably doesn't get told enough. Mental note to work on that.

He thinks on those words. Gotta be here. He sure tries to be. Physically, he's moved in, has been for months and months. (The other house is collecting dust. His smoker's in the yard. Why did he ever think any of them would need space?) He loves seeing them every single day, bumping into them as they cross paths in the hall, catching quick lazy kisses in the kitchen while someone's cleaning or cooking, stealing bites of each others' foods or picking up a towel to dry while someone washes. The sunny smiles and warm looks when eyes meet. He loves it. He loves it.

Mentally, emotionally, he never wants to leave their sides for long. Nothing gives him as much joy as waking up with them, hearing their voices throughout the house, the little hum Aerith utters when she gardens or the huff of Cloud's breath when he trains nearby. The way they each look at him in turn. The way he is loved, every single day, and he can see it, he can feel it.

Cloud's hands on him are warm, the arms around him are so protective and all-encompassing. The sound of his voice as he says those words is so beautiful.]

I love you, [He whispers back. How can he not? How could he ever not?] I'm here. I'll be here. I promise.

[He may be dead, but he's alive. Sharon can be mad if she wants, but he can be grateful for this.]