JJ Doe

◈ 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐒 | Κάθαρσις ◈

Jay’s Catharsis

@Stanifly@silver21@Tlazolteotl@DaftJive

“Right, no, yeah.”

But it wasn’t quite the thing they’d been trying to ask.

Jay rubbed the back of their neck. “I guess what I meant was—how do you know the other person feels the same way? That you’re not just... someone they tolerate.”

◈ 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐒 | Κάθαρσις ◈

Jay’s Catharsis

@Stanifly@silver21@Tlazolteotl

Good thing Silver Blade seemed to have something in mind after they took her hand. Because Jay certainly didn’t. They’d been about half a second away from two strangers just... holding hands. Staring at each other. Waiting for someone to do something.

Silver Blade escorted them back to the circle like a proper gentleman.

Now came the logistical problem of where to sit.

Specifically: how to avoid seeing Sirpa’s expression. Disappointment was hard enough when it was aimed at you directly. Catching it in glances, over and over—that was its own special kind of torture. Jay was scanning the available chairs and running calculations when Sirpa spoke.

“Sorry.”

Jay blinked.

“I just meant that out of all the places you could go, why choose here? It’s...odd here.”

It didn’t actually have to be here specifically; it could’ve been anywhere. The answer was about to leave their mouth when another thought cut across it:

That’s not entirely true, is it?

She was right. There were plenty of other places Jay could’ve gone. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t thought about it.

“Because.” Jay took a breath. Let it out. Took another. “There’s a chance the people I mentioned will see this.”

Part of them wanted those people to see this. They also really didn’t. Not that they’d look anyway. Jay couldn’t even see their names without their gut souring. Why would they be any different? Easy, you never mattered to them.

They picked a seat, left one empty between themselves and Sirpa. When they looked up, the Moderator was sitting directly across from them. She’d been next to Sirpa a moment ago. Hadn’t she? Must’ve glitched.

Jay fidgeted with their fingers.
Interlaced them.
Pulled them apart.
Repeated.

Was it okay to just... start? It seemed like it might be. But what if Jay had barged in on something? They’d just have to trust the others would say something if there was a problem.

And then the intrusive thought invited itself back:

What? Like how you trusted them?

Jay closed their eyes. “How do you know someone’s your friend? Like... what makes them a friend and not just... someone you know?”

◈ 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐒 | Κάθαρσις ◈

Jay’s Catharsis

@Stanifly@silver21@Tlazolteotl

If the internet hadn’t taken its sweet time buffering, Jay probably would’ve blipped out of Catharsis before Silver Blade’s voice caught up with them. “You misunderstand. It isn’t a matter of qualification.”

Jay scrambled to cancel the exit—once, twice when the first didn’t register—and spun to face Silver Blade. Lag pretty much killed any chance of replying in real time, but at least she’d see they were listening.

“I… apologise for making you feel unwelcome. I’ve been told I can be overly blunt at times.”

Reflexively, Jay raised their hands. “No, no, it’s okay.”

It wasn’t okay. (Not that Silver Blade did anything wrong—she didn’t. The apology was nice. The hand was nice. Everything was fine, actually, except for the part where Jay wasn’t okay.) “It’s okay” was the automatic default setting for every people-pleaser who ever existed. Factory-installed, impossible to uninstall.

Silver Blade’s hand hovered between them. Jay’s gaze drifted past it, past her, to Sirpa.

Disappointment radiated off Sirpa, pressing against their chest like a physical weight.

Get out. We don’t want you. Why are you even here?

“Jay.”

The Moderator’s voice interrupted what was shaping up to be a really productive spiral.

“You’re welcome here. Whatever is troubling you—I’d love to help. Even if all I can do is sit with you and listen.”

Based on how Sirpa had gone quiet, visibly trying to shrink away from them, Jay had their doubts. They’d seen it. That flash of annoyance. That flicker of hope when it looked like Jay might actually leave.

The urge to do exactly that spiked. They were already composing the exit line in their head (thank you all for your kind words, I’ll come back another time), without any intention of coming back. But Silver Blade’s hand came into focus again.

Jay looked up into the hero’s face. Searched her expression for anything that suggested she thought it would be better if they left.

Found none.

So they took her hand.

Ꭼꭲꭼꭱɴꭺꮮ Ꭲꮋꭱꮻɴꭼ

Locke

Locke Appearance Average height for a huma with a lean build. Wavy, golden-blonde hair that falls past his ears, usually unkempt. Sharp, angular features, blue eyes, and light stubble along his jaw. Whatever he wears, he makes sure he can run in it. Personality & Reputation Self-Serving | Opportunistic | Vain | Shameless | Flighty Locke looks out for himself first, second, and third. Always has been. He’ll be whoever you need him to be if it gets him what he wants, and he’ll be gone the moment he has it. Hasn’t lost a night’s sleep over any of it. Hard to feel guilty when you’re convinced you’re above it all. History History They tell a story in the Cascades of a young ylva woman, born to a noble house whose name changes with each telling. She was beautiful, as all ylva are, and foolish, as the young often are. She believed love could overcome anything: blood, tradition, even the Compromise itself. You can already see where this is going. It started with a sob story. His, not hers. An orphan, he said. His family stolen by people who still walked free, still breathed, still laughed while he had nothing. Her heart broke for him. She’d always been soft that way. Exactly the sort, some say, that a confidence man would prey on. If the rumors are true, that’s what he was. But she didn’t see him that way. She saw a man who made her laugh, who remembered the small things she said and asked questions no one else thought to ask. He made her feel like she mattered. Not her name, not her house. Just her. Whether he meant any of it, who can say. She introduced him to her friends, defended him when her family disapproved. They called him a huma with nothing to offer (they were right). She called him hers, and he was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Her family told her she was to be married. Another house. Another name. Another life. She wept, and he held her, and when the tears stopped she knew what she wanted to do. If she couldn’t keep him, she would give him something. She made the Compromise for him. Sacrificed her love so he could find his justice. It was already his, she thought. What did she need it for? Her marriage would never have what they had. This way, her love would stay with him forever. Maybe the gods would see how strong it was, and he would come back for her, return her heart. Maybe they would finally have their happy ending. What she didn’t realize was that the Compromise would take all of it. Not just her love for him, but her capacity to love at all. Some say he left the moment it was done, that he had what he wanted and saw no reason to stay. Others say he waited until morning. Slipped out with her jewelry. Does it matter? The Compromise demands a sacrifice, but it has never cared whose. There have always been those who exploit that. He wasn’t the first. Won’t be the last. So here’s your warning, for whatever it’s worth. If a stranger smiles at you too easy, remembers too much, makes you feel like you matter—walk away. If you find yourself wanting to help him, walk faster. Don’t trust Locke. Strengths & Limitations Strengths Deception & Persuasion — Adept Natural huma charisma plus years of cons. Reads people, adopts personas, lies convincingly, manipulates conversations. Dexterity — Competent Quick hands, nimble feet. Good for pickpocketing, sleight of hand, dodging, and running when things go south. Glamour — Minor Alters the appearance of animate or inanimate objects, though not perfectly. Surface Read — Competent Detects basic emotions. Charm — Minor Makes people more inclined to trust him. Doesn’t override free will, just nudges them to be more open or agreeable. Limitations Strength — Lacking Can’t overpower anyone, struggles with heavy lifting or brute force. Constitution — Lacking Can’t take a hit: one solid blow and he’s down. Doesn’t handle pain well either. Melee Combat — Untrained No weapon skills. If someone gets close with a blade, he’s in trouble. Ranged Combat — Untrained Can’t use a bow or throw a knife with any accuracy. Magic Endurance — Limited His magic came through indirect Compromises. Spells drain him faster and can’t be held as long as someone who paid the price directly.

____________________________________________________________________________ ◤ “Nothing personal.” Full Name: Locke Age: Late 20s to mid 30s Voice Claim: Kaiji Tang Race: Huma Birthplace: Siliach Occupation: Grifter Affiliation(s): None

◈ 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐒 | Κάθαρσις ◈

Jay’s Catharsis

@silver21 @Stanifly @Tlazolteotl

“Why would you choose to come here?”

Disappointment settled, quiet and heavy, into the pit of their stomach like sediment finding the bottom of a glass. And with it came that old, familiar sensation of being gently, politely, inevitably edged toward the door without anyone actually pointing at it.

“Why would you choose to come here?”

They’d shown them Κάθαρσις’s exact words. This is a place to unburden yourself.

But if someone who was actually part of this was asking why someone like Jay—someone whose problems were six months stale and didn’t involve anything remotely life-or-death—would bother showing up, then... well.

Jay could tell when they weren’t wanted. They’d developed something of a sixth sense for it. And they knew how some people didn’t like to come out and just say we don’t want you here, so they found ‘softer’ ways. ‘Polite’ ways. Indirect enough to let everyone pretend no one had said anything of the sort. If and when you left, it was ‘on your own volition.’

Quietly, Jay stood.

“I came here because it was advertised that all are welcome to vent.” Their voice came out flatter than intended. Good. Flat was fine. Flat was better than cracking. “Obviously I’m not qualified to be here, though. Sorry to waste everyone’s time.”

A pause. A breath that didn’t feel like enough air. Then, because manners were manners: “Have a nice day.”

They turned and made for the exit—not running, because running would be dramatic, and this wasn’t dramatic, this was just leaving—but not dawdling either. The walk of someone who had somewhere else to be, even if that somewhere was just anywhere but here.

Heat gathered behind their eyes; their throat was constricting in a way that meant they had about five seconds before this was going to get dramatic.

Shame crept in alongside the heat. The kind that whispered you shouldn’t have tried and did you learn nothing from last time?

Apparently not.

You’re so fucking stupid, Jay.

◈ 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐒 | Κάθαρσις ◈

Jay’s Catharsis

@silver21 @Stanifly @Tlazolteotl

Jay nodded at each introduction with some variation of ‘Hey’ or ‘Nice to meet you’ for those who offered names. For those who didn’t, just a dip of the head. It wasn’t much, but hopefully it counted for something.

“Did you come here of your own volition, Jay?” asked Silver Blade, whose name and look both belonged on a comic book splash page.

One of Jay’s eyebrows did the facial equivalent of a question mark. It was like asking someone at the dentist if they wanted to be there. Nobody wanted to be at the dentist. You just... went. Before things got worse.

“Didn’t we all?” They shrugged. “I mean, I guess some people might be here because someone recommended it, but I’m pretty sure it’s against policy to force you here. Defeats the whole purpose.”

With a flick of their hand, Κάθαρσις’s front page shimmered into existence. They scrolled down, past the welcome banner, past the decorative flourishes, until they found what they were looking for. A tap, a pinch, a zoom.

This place exists outside of time and space. It appears when you need it, and it appears differently to everyone.

Another scroll. Another pinch-zoom.

This is a place to unburden yourself.

“As long as we don’t dox anyone,” Jay continued, “we can pretty much vent as long as we want. About whatever we want.”

The words came out easy. Confident, even.

For about three seconds.

Then Jay looked back at the page. Read it again. And again. The letters hadn’t changed, but they were less certain now.

Their gaze slid toward the Moderator. “At least… That’s how I understand it.” Or had they misunderstood the ‘obvious’ again?

◈ 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐒 | Κάθαρσις ◈

I am waiting to see if anyone else's going to post, but if not, I'll post something over the weekend.

Ꭼꭲꭼꭱɴꭺꮮ Ꭲꮋꭱꮻɴꭼ

Tentatively interested.

I did want to ask:

- What can magic actually do? Are there defined schools (healing, elemental, illusion, etc.) or is it more freeform?
- Is alchemy separate from regular magic, or does it also require the Compromise?
- Are you hoping for characters from different affiliations, or is it fine if multiple players pick the same one (or none)?

◈ 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐒 | Κάθαρσις ◈

@Tlazolteotl @JJ Doe I like chaos but wouuuuuld it be too chaotic if Teresa and Vicis could perceive/interact with Jay but not each other? LOL

@Stanifly

We can try 😂

@Tlazolteotl

I don't mind

◈ 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐒 | Κάθαρσις ◈

Jay’s Catharsis

@Tlazolteotl @silver21 @Stanifly @Auragreedia @DaftJive @spiral origin @Object 452k @BaronOBeefDip @CyclingTortoise

Jay wanted to believe her. But they’d learned how easy it was to say things—and how little that proved.

“Hi, my name is Jay.”

No one said Hi Jay. This was either not that kind of meeting, or the internet was lagging again. Jay decided not to wait around to find out which.

“About half a year ago, I had a falling out with some people from a group I’d been part of for over three years.”

They shifted in their seat as they continued. “You’d think six months would be enough to move on. And it has been, for the most part. But some stuff stuck around. New year’s coming, so I thought, why not clear it out? Start fresh.”

In the corner, a digital clock kept counting. Yellow segments, blocky numbers, the colon blinking like a slow heartbeat. The seconds ticked on—:38, :39, :40. The date underneath just sat there.

They’d meant to do this sooner. Weeks ago, even. And here they were, days left, and they still couldn’t line their thoughts up in any sensible order. Looked like the new year was going to get this mess whether it liked it or not.

It occurred to them—somewhere around sentence seven—that they had no idea how any of this was supposed to work. Didn’t even know these people. For all they knew, everyone else here had actual crises, and Jay had just barged in with baggage from six months ago.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to just—” Jay stopped, shook their head. “You already know I’m Jay, so... what are your names?”