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WHO: Everyone!
WHERE: An hour outside De Chima
WHEN: January 10-12
WHAT: imPorts are treated to a Swear-In that’s nothing but a weekend of relaxation at a brand new resort and spa!
WARNINGS: Possible mild nudity

It’s been a long few months, hasn’t it imPorts? Between the invading monsters (yikes!), evading the apocalypse (double yikes!) and then some fear toxin on behalf of your good pal Joker (triple yikes!), imPorts are overdue for a vacation. And wouldn’t you know it? One is coming right up.

Oh, yeah. It’s a Hot Springs Episode.

Welcome to Elysium Resort and Spa! When you come in, you’ll get a brochure with all of their offerings. They’re a little confused, perhaps, espousing relaxation ideals of every culture, clearly having just thrown all of their relaxation spaghetti at the wall to see if it sticks, but they’ve got the spirit! The smell of eucalyptus fills the air as you toe off your shoes and change into the slippers and robes that they have available for you as they usher you into what must be, for some, absolute paradise.

You can find rooms for all persuasions here, all purporting various health benefits. They have your typical fare - salt rooms, saunas, steam rooms, buckets of water with ladles resting in them to pour over the heaters to allow them to sizzle - but be warned! Some of these rooms climb up to ridiculous temperatures, leaving the bottoms of your feet red and toasty as you jump in (they suggest sandals, but who reads instructions anyway?), and other rooms are filled with ice as you’re plunged into what may as well be a walk-in freezer. Sometimes the doors are a little fiddly, though. Don’t worry - you won’t get trapped in here long enough for any real harm to come to you. But you might get a little uncomfortable as you rattle at the door, one of the employees eventually hurrying to let you out and offering their sincerest apologies, and won’t you have a gift certificate?

If those rooms aren’t enough for you, you can check out the baths. Salt baths, chilled baths, and hot tubs galore are here for imPorts, but that’s not all. Ever wanted to bathe in tea? In wine? Would you like to sink into a bath filled entirely with clay? How about getting all your dead skin chomped off by fish? It’s all here for you! Just try not to drink the bathwater - or, heavens, eat the fish. Those aren’t for you!

As imPorts stroll outside, they’ll see a beautiful vista overlooking the mountains, attached to a spacious hot springs (it’s natural, they claim, but who’s checking?) where imPorts can simply relax and enjoy the scenery. After that, why not pop inside to where some of the technicians will absolutely insist that you get a massage. Or a mani-pedi - yes, even you, big guy. Or, really, anything that your heart desires.

Once you’ve been poked and prodded and primped to your heart’s content (or discontent, as it may be), the spa open until the wee hours of the morning, it’s time to go and dine on some of the local cuisine, prepared fresh by the resort’s resident chef with a distinct eye to fresh, clean flavors and a truly ridiculous amount of salad. They want to make sure that you’re healthy inside and out, after all!

Before arriving at the spa, everyone was able to choose who they wanted to room with. But it seems that their systems got a bit scrambled during their grand opening, so you may find yourself bunking with a stranger instead. They’re deeply apologetic, of course, but it really would be easier for them if you’d just be nice for an evening and give it a shot. It’s only one evening, right? It’s not like you’ll be roomed with a serial killer. Probably. Given the imPort population there’s, what, a five percent chance?

The hotel rooms themselves are beautiful and spacious, each with a window looking out over the lovely view of the scenery below. It’s the perfect way to end your night… until 3 AM when an alarm begins to blare and all of the guests are ushered outside in the chilly winter air while firefighters come to check the place out. It’s a false alarm (some brat must have pulled it, the manager says apologetically, ready with more gift certificates), but hey, maybe this is a good chance to get to know your neighbors!

The next day, guests are free to take advantage of the resort’s facilities once more, or they can go hiking in the mountainous trails available to them, complete with regular rest stops with firepits, with the staff more than happy to pack lunchboxes and fixings for s’mores.

After they come back and have a thankfully uneventful night’s rest, buses will be ready to take them back to civilization, along with goodie bags filled with luxury goods and an earnest invitation to come back anytime! But maybe next time, wait a couple of months so they can iron out the kinks in their system.

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[He never got his own fishboy when he was Robin, okay. Last time he was hanging with fishes, a submarine was about to self-destruct on him.]

Sure, he's a regular Thomas Edison of Horror.

[He's stalling, they both know he's stalling and M is calling him out yet again. How much longer can he does this and keep his dignity?

Trick question, he never had any.]

Ugh, fine. I'll try out your weird-ass new age-y bathing rituals, you millennial metal-hippie.

[Yeah, he sure did call you that, M.]

"We live our lives. Play the hero," he shrugs. "Whatever you want, I guess. Although the government here may frown upon random deaths by exploding heads."

He sighs. "That's funny. Back home, they're responsible for teaching me how." He shakes his head.

"This is going to take some getting used to. Well. At least I know you. ...you got a costume?"

"I'm sure they would have work for you with special targets, if you asked. Just no randomness. That'll earn you a criminal record."

He watches his nails being buffed for a moment. The attendants have wisely decided to ignore the conversation.

"I have the greatest superhero costume. Custom made for me and designed for maximum impressions and effectiveness."

Some were not so flattering impressions. He does get a lot of mockery, particularly from those who know of him from other dimensions. But he won't listen to that.

"I can understand that. I've spent my entire life doing the same." He had to admit that he thought a little higher of Meng Yao now despite his strange appearance. It was respect for a survivor from another. He knew how difficult it was to hang on when all odds were against him.

"There is nothing better than to survive after your enemies have fallen by the wayside."

And what about you? Did you stump your instructors much?

[She brings her own marshmallow in range of the fire. As far as she can tell, Shiro's quite skilled at this. But maybe, she can bring hers a little bit closer, and finish sooner...?]

That might be hard to play out here. Not unless we found someone who could be considered an 'instructor', too...

To stop is easier said than done. Meng Yao has used his manipulation to protect himself. He isn't a strong man - physically or magically. If he is shoved into another environment where he is beaten or mocked, old habits might surface.

Those are the demons he must combat.

"Will you take my Guqin?"

He could acquire another, but their guqins are special - and he can cause great mischief with his.

"Keep it safe. If we need to battle a common foe, I will ask for it. Otherwise I don't need it."

[ He'll just. Keep looking at her with amusement. And ignore the blackmail comment. ]

Just Lan Zhan. My other friends didn't take so much effort.

"I enjoyed it." he can't lie about that, "It felt soothing."

To watch his father die in the midst of foreplay and sex had been perfect. He had chosen those disfigured prostitutes just for him. What better end for a callous, too proud old stallion?

Killing his baby son had been less enjoyable. By far. The boy had been beautiful, but time would have proven him to be wrong and then everyone would have known the truth of his heritage.

"All of those who pushed me down were exterminated and I was happy."

Neither of them know when the next wave will crash, bearing Wuxian down into the dark again. He's trying to fight it. But he's only so strong. It's only a matter of time, and he knows it painfully well.

But Wangji helps. Every day. Little things, even just by being around. So he stays.

Always wondering when the other shoe will drop.

He grins, sudden and bright as he drops his head back, chest heaving with a laugh. But quiets, gazing up above them.

Eventually, quietly... "I'm glad you're here, Lan Zhan."

Sizhui is fairly innocent, but when Meng Yao has asked this of him. It's a great request. To give one's instrument away is a representation of one's honor. Or in this case, his surrender.

"I...I cannot. I have no place to hide it. Jin Ling stays with me. If he's able to find it, he'll be very upset."

That's a very fair reason.

"Is there anybody else you could ask? Hanguang-Jun? Zewu-Jun?"

The problem with the two Sizhui suggests is he fears one - rightly so - and the other has been used by him too much. He doesn't want Lan Xichen to feel like this is another trap.

"I need someone else." he frowns and nods at Sizhui, "Until I find a suitable place, I will lock it away and send the key to Hanguag-Jun."

Sending mail means he doesn't have to see the man in person.

Still, the request is unusual, and Sizhui wants to know the reason and then he can figure out a better way.

"That might be better. But why do you want to give it to me though? Or give the key to my father?"

"I need to give it to someone who is...outside of...what I did." but not too uninformed that he can trick them further, "They need to be strong to take any and all necessary action."

Not that he is planning on going back to who he had been.

"Do you understand?"

Edited 2020-01-27 05:33 (UTC)

Now this is something that they at least have in common. "Oh yeah? What's it like? Leather? Spandex?"

He has no idea what he's about to walk into.

"Oh, special fibers. Wool blends. Armour. I don't have it with me... but-- wait," he reaches to the side where he has a small messenger bag and pulls out his phone. He flips through some photos on the touch screen and eventually finds the ones he wants to show, holding the device out for Matthew to see. "Here."

There's a set, seemingly posed to show off every side. As well as an action shot apparently taken by his fans while he was flying through the cities - set up by himself, of course, since it's on his phone...

"If you survived Sith, that's quite the understatement."

For a moment he does let himself hope this might be another from his own time, if only due to the mention of Sith and Separatists. Secretly supplying such movements was what helped the Empire gain an early advantage in the war- some planets leaving the Republic, others paralyzed by civil wars controlled from the shadows. But reminding himself that Rex had mentioned the Sith leading those Separatists in battle- that puts an end to his brief moment of optimism.

"I appreciate that information, even if I don't fully understand it. I believe you're closer to Miss Tano's time than my own, or possibly the Skywalker brat's."

Not that that lack of understanding would stop him from mentally cataloging it like he did everything else. Jedi weren't the only ones who craved knowledge and understanding of the universe, after all. They just tended to avoid certain unsavory or unnatural topics- to their own detriment, if Nox had to give an opinion on it.

"I have her to thank for a speedy recovery from the worst of the injuries, among a few others. I only brought one wound with me, the rest were earned courtesy of this world's strange phenomena. Without that assistance, I would no doubt still be recovering."

There's a lot to like. The structure, the colours... even the cape. Matthew had a cape, when he was younger. But....

"What's with the fishbowl?"

He gives the heavy, annoyed sigh of somebody who has been asked that question too often.

"It's not a fishbowl. It's a helmet. What shape do you expect a helmet to be apart from round?"

"Oh. I think it's because it doesn't have a visor? So it looks glass all the way around. It looks like a fishbowl, man."

Still, it's not that bad, so he adds, "But I've seen dumber. And the rest is cool."

He raises his eyebrows but then relaxes again.

"There's a reason for the lack of an obvious visor. It's not necessary. It's like mirrored glass. I can see through perfectly and I have all the internal readouts just as clear on the surface. I don't need outsiders seeing any of that."

Lan Sizhui can help him, but part of him is uncertain because more important is Jin Ling’s trust as he’s under his protection. Part of him, the more wiser, Meng Yao can’t be trusted with his questionable past.

“I understand. I’ll be happy to take on the task, but then Jin Ling will eventually discover that I’ll be helping you and that...will be fractured.”

No, this is too delicate and fragile.

“Eventually I will tell father that you ask this of me.” Because nothing is hidden under the sun between father and son. “I think he could help if you ask nicely. If you enlisted his help, then that would make it easier for us to help you.”

"Jin Ling can contact me whenever he wishes. I have made that clear." he gives Sizhui another bow, relieved by his open-minded approach, "Tell him to talk to me. You are not to blame and this is meant to make him feel...safer."

Meng Yao's lips twist and his gaze is distant, his thoughts back in Guanyin Temple.

"I will approach him myself. You needn't feel you are keeping anything from your...leader."

Is that all they are?

Edited 2020-01-27 07:28 (UTC)

Sizhui tried to keep an open-mind, out of fairiness in the interests of justice. He was a little confused at first and it turns out that was his intention all the long. A third person to bridge communication between what is left of his surviving kin and yet, an enemy seeking help and mercy.

With a nod, “I’ll tell him. And I can see your efforts to make up for it. But if you’re going to hurt more people, then you have my sword to answer.” Which is a fair warning, despite he can see the man is in pain and is suffering.

[The woman doesn’t seem offended or even surprised by his criticism. If anything, the calm look on her face seems to suggest she’s heard it before. Perhaps she has someone in her own world who cared enough to have tried to talk her down from self-destruction. A pity it doesn’t seem to have worked.]

I’ve seen what things like that can turn people into. That’s all.

[There’s a finality to those last two words that makes it clear he doesn’t plan on elaborating further.]

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