TEST DRIVE MEME 005

[happyheartsstaff]

HAPPY HEARTS HOTEL

You wake up in a padded box. It rocks, gently, as though suspended in mid-air. You begin to stir, confusion or distress pushing you to try to sit up — and then the air begins to smell sweet, and you fall back asleep.

You wake up in a padded box. For a moment, you are beatifically calm. You don't know how you got here, or why, but that isn't really all that important. You don't need to know where you are. You're just... here. And here is a wonderful place to be.

But there is a niggling suspicion growing in the back of your mind. A suspicion that here is not somewhere you wanted to be. That it is not where you're supposed to be. You remember... chasing a white rabbit (or was it a person)? A mirror? Bright light, and green ivy crawling over your skin... Before you can worry too much, the box jolts, and then settles, and after a long moment the walls fall from around you to reveal —

A hotel lobby?

"Welcome to the Happy Hearts Hotel and Casino," says an attendant behind a desk. "We're so pleased you could join us. We have your room keys and Empathies here, please make an orderly line and we'll hand them out once we've confirmed identities. After that, feel free to explore the hotel! We highly recommend starting with the casino. Everyone's a winner here in Happy Hearts!"

Is this normal? It doesn't feel normal. And hey — you could swear you had shoes before!

I. INFESTATION

It starts with soft squeaks echoing in the hallways, the lobby, even Oysters' rooms. There's no accompanying scratching or the scurrying of feet that would usually signify an animal in the walls, only incessant squeaking that never seems to let up. Less than a day after it begins, the first squeaking creature makes its appearance. It is quickly followed by another, and another, and another, until one can't take more than a few steps without encountering one.

They range in size from no longer than an inch to almost a foot in length, and can be found everywhere from the pool area to the buffet to crawling beneath the blankets at night. Aside from their constant presence, they seem harmless. The creatures are soft and squishy, warm and dry to the touch, and don't seem to have any claws or even teeth. If they are treated with kindness, they may even become attached to certain Oysters, who will begin to find they can tell the creature apart from the others.

They can also be killed quite easily. They are resilient, and will bounce if dropped, but they have no defense against anything sharp and the smaller ones will not recover if stepped on.

The hotel staff view the little green creatures with varying levels of distaste, from mild irritation to shrieking at the sight of one.

"It always happens this time of year," one staff may say if asked. "The weather changes, they come in from the garden."

"They're hiding," another may state. "Who wouldn't? It's much safer in here."

Safer from what, you may ask?

The hotel staff give no answer to that.

After only a few days, the small creatures will begin to change. Those who have been shown kindness will become softer, fluffier. Prolonged contact with them will invoke feelings of happiness, will bring daydreams that feel real, though no one else can see them.

Those who have not been treated kindly will become more resilient, with spikes sharp enough to prick skin at the slightest touch. Stumbling over one of these will cause terrible hallucinations, waking nightmares that can only be dispelled with assistance from another.

II. THE QUEEN'S GARDEN

The creatures have been in the hotel over a week when a new archway appears in the hotel lobby.

It is nearly October, hotel staff will say. There is a wedding to prepare for, and the yearly harvest festival. The Queen does so love her Oysters, of course, that she is opening up her gardens for both.

The garden itself is expansive, spanning multiple acres. There is a winding path lined with neatly manicured rose bushes in all colors, another overgrown with ivy, another leading through trees with leaves of reds and golds. Groves of fruit trees are heavy with apples and pears. Elaborate water fountains and delicate streams flow between small ponds, each bordered by different types of water plants and filled with everything ranging from goldfish to koi. There is a chill in the air, and scattered throughout the gardens are stone fire pits, a stash of blankets, bags of marshmallows and cartons of fresh pressed apple cider.

It is the only place aside from the pool that Oysters will be able to see the sun instead of the eternal twilight outside of the hotel windows.

Night will fall here, too, and with it all the fire pits are lit. Lanterns line the paths, and some glow from the thick of the gardens themselves, though there are still shadowy places that one can retreat to if desiring privacy.

III. HEDGE MAZE

The garden is bordered on all sides by a massive wall of shrubbery — a hedge maze, hotel staff will say. They may even warn that those who go in without an escort will find themselves hopelessly lost.

There is nothing stopping Oysters from trying anyway, of course. The entrance to the hedge maze is difficult to find, but not impossible for those who are persistent. No matter what time of day it is in the garden, it will be night in the hedge maze, with no lanterns to guide the way. The entrance back to the garden will glow warm and bright for only a few moments after stepping inside, and will then disappear entirely.

It seems there is no way to go but forward.

The deeper into the maze, the darker it gets, as though even the moon and stars are growing dim. Oysters may catch sounds of soft breathing in the night, and may even observe that the hedge wall itself seems to sway as though something just beyond it — or in it — is moving. Those who enter the maze will find themselves wandering for what feels like hours, days. Does that turn look familiar? Have you been down this way before? Who can tell, when nothing about the maze ever seems to change.

Eventually, Oysters will find that they have been lead back to the garden, exhausted and hungry, though no time at all has passed for everyone else.

IV. WELCOME HOME

Maybe you just want to be alone — well, that's what you have your room key for! Oysters room on the second and third floors of the hotel, one to a room. You were assured your room would be exactly what you'd always wished for — and for some, that's right! It's exactly as you would have decorated it yourself. But for others, their rooms are totally wrong. A grizzled cowboy can't have a pink room! Hotel staff are firm, though: every room is exactly as its owner wants it to be. Search your feelings, Oyster. You know it to be true.

On each bed are the Oysters' personal effects, minus weapons, as well as a towel folded in the shape of a heart, and a single foil-wrapped chocolate. If eaten, the chocolate is delicious, and incites a feeling of tender warmth in Oysters — not lust, but a desire for closeness. Why spend time in your room, when you could go find a new friend in the casino?

Please direct any questions to the first comment on this page, and happy playing, Oysters!

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© tessisamess

Comments

[billowing]

Lan Wangji is supremely annoyed every time Wei Ying brings it up and doesn't realize it's their song, it's Lan Wangji's heart and hopes and dreams. And yes, he hopes Wei Ying realizes this means he wrote it when he was sixteen, had already picked out the title then.

And yet, he can't fault his husband, and instead, kisses his forehead. He's just happy to have him here once more, have him forever.

"You played it terribly when you were resurrected," he chides, though he knows he was doing so to hide his identity. It was still hard to hear him butcher it.

[sadflutenoises]

He gives Lan Zhan a playful swat to the shoulder for his cheekiness, his mouth falling open in mock-offense. The only time he could recall playing it after he'd returned was in the dark of night, fiddling around on a leaf whistle, but it hadn't sounded that bad.

"I didn't have Chenqing then!" he insists, in his defense.

"Just try me now, I can play it perfectly!"

[billowing]

It had sounded pretty awful! "I know you can play it now. Why don't we duet?"

He'd never done it with Wei Ying where he'd also sung the words, so he thinks this might be a good opportunity to do so.

[sadflutenoises]

"Only if you promise to forget the terrible playing," he teases, slipping down from Lan Zhan's arms so he can reach for Chenqing. He gives it a spin, red tassel trailing in a perfect arc.

"I want to know the words that go with it."

[billowing]

"Then we will start playing, and I will sing you the words."

He starts to strum the familiar notes with Wangji, and waits for Wei Ying to come join him.

[sadflutenoises]

It feels like the first time they've really played together that wasn't for the sake of putting souls to rest or calming fierce corpses and other resentful energies. He puts the flute to his lips and starts in, taking only a note or two to match Lan Zhan's pace. He knows the song well, despite hearing it so few times, and tries to keep even the high notes soft, excited to hear Lan Zhan sing when he's not barely conscious enough to enjoy it.

[billowing]

Lan Wangji strums the strings, and closes his eyes as the lilt of the flute washes over him, comforting him greatly.

Oh, how he'd missed this. He starts to sing as the chorus starts, singing about the sound of a flute, through Cloud Recesses.

Of course it's their song.

[sadflutenoises]

As he both listens and tries to keep in time with Lan Zhan's playing, he finds the lyrics soothing. They're so very much Lan Zhan, poetic in nature, the melody simple and straightforward, and while perhaps not as overtly romantic to anyone else, it's perfect for them. If he weren't playing a wind instrument he might have tried to join in on the chorus, but hearing Lan Zhan's voice, he has no complaints. He'd easily listen to just Lan Zhan's singing beside the somber qin, but his playful flute cutting through to brighten it feels right somehow too.

When the song finishes, he sinks down beside Lan Zhan, leaning against his shoulder as they sit side by side.

"Let me sing it with you this time?"

[billowing]

No, it's not overly-romantic, but he thinks he might be too shy to sing those sorts of words aloud, when instead he could sing this whenever, and could have done so to Wei Ying even without a confession.

Still, it's nice to finally share these words with him, this song, that's been sitting heavily with him, begging to finally be shared.

He nods, and then asks, "are you ready?"

[sadflutenoises]

"Mm," he says softly in response, waiting for the intro and watching Lan Zhan's fingers dance on the strings. He only waits half a beat after Lan Zhan starts singing to join in, matching the melody in places and creating his own harmony in others(because he just can't help putting his own flourishes in).

The chorus is strong, though he has to hum some of the words throughout the verses, missing a word here or there.

[billowing]

It's still the most beautiful rendition of WangXian he's heard, because it's the only one that Wei Ying has sung with him on. He thinks Wei Ying's voice compliments him incredibly, and they sound like they were made for this song. In all ways, this song was made for them.

[sadflutenoises]

He looks up as they finish, chin resting lightly on Lan Zhan's shoulder. Now that he knows the words, they can split the parts any way they like, he thinks.

"Hmm, the flute or singing, which do you think is best?" he asks, "I hope we'll have plenty more times to try it out and decide."

[billowing]

"Whichever Wei Ying feels like doing," he replies, hands now at rest, turning his face slightly to look at Wei Ying. He presses a kiss to his cheek as they sit underneath the tree.

"The other two have a similar song," he says. "Also named WangXian."

[sadflutenoises]

Usually Wei Wuxian is the shameless one, but when Lan Zhan kisses him, he buries his face in his shoulder for a moment. He should've known better than to ask, but somehow Lan Zhan's honest praise always flusters him faster than anything else.

"They do?" he looks up, "ah... I guess Lan Zhan would write it no matter what, hm? But it's not the same song?"

[billowing]

He shakes his head and holds Wei Ying against his shoulder. "It does not sound like ours, but I can tell it is their song."

He gently rubs Wei Ying's arm as they sit under the tree and think about it.

[sadflutenoises]

There's something comforting in that, not that he has any lingering doubts about how much he cares for Lan Zhan, but knowing that this is their song, that the melodies and harmonies intertwine perfectly, is all the reassurance he needs.

"Did you and your soul-twin compare notes?" he teases, "how did you hear it?"

[billowing]

He had been playing it, and Wei Ying had come over and somehow he just... knew. That was something about them. They had another sense for these things.

"I have not. He heard ours."

Lan Wangji was always a romantic, after all. Of course he would be playing it.

[sadflutenoises]

It did seem a silly, if amusing thought, to consider both Lan Wangji sitting at a table discussing their romantic ballads. But knowing the other heard it, instead, does make a certain amount of sense. He can't help wondering what the other WangXian sounds like, all the same.

"Mm, maybe we'll hear it sometime," he muses. He'd feel pretty strange asking the other Lan Zhan to play his version, knowing now what it meant for them, but he is nothing, if not curious.

"But I'm glad this one is ours. Even if there's a dozen other worlds, Lan Zhan's song is special," he says decisively.

[billowing]

"If it was not, I would start over and write you a new one." He had always intended for this song to be personal to them - shared, with people, perhaps, but definitely personal.

He kisses Wei Ying on the temple, briefly, and finds happiness in the fact that Wei Ying likes their song and that it's unique to them.

He returns to his guqin, and starts to play another song, a sadder song.

[sadflutenoises]

"You can write me as many as you want, but this one will always be my favorite," he smiles, and can't quite make him say the sort of romantic and mushy things he's feeling. He's always been better with salacious and silly flirting. But Lan Zhan's song is something he wants to keep close to his heart and never forget.

The next song feels melancholy, if he had to attribute a feeling to it. Heavier perhaps, and Wei Wuxian sits close, looping an arm around Lan Zhan's waist, even as he rests his head on his shoulder. It's the sort of sweet moment one might capture in a painting, something out of a love story and so overly sweet to those watching, but feeling it now in the moment, he can only feel happy, heart full. He waits for the song to end, the last reverberations of the string hanging in the air before he speaks.

"Tell me about that one," he asks, "does it have a name too?"

[billowing]

Instead of answering Wei Ying - which, was he expecting a direct answer? Lan Wangji instead goes back to the chorus and starts to sing, as this one has lyrics as well.

"A qin echoes in the jingshi, the melody of inquiry permeating the air: are you still asking? Asking after the trials of those who came before? Is it you in the distance, still asking of the departed: black or white, praise or blame, what is it worth?

"Could I ever forget, amidst the crowd in Cloud Recesses, the promise we made together? And where are you now? The way you glanced my way, I will never forget."

He plucks the final string, not going into the second verse, and lets the note settle, finally placing his hand at rest by his side.

[sadflutenoises]

Wei Wuxian's smile fades a little at the lyrics, into something more bittersweet. His arms hold Lan Zhan a bit tighter, as if it can somehow make up for those years he'd struggled alone. He doesn't know what to add, nothing seems quite as eloquent as Lan Zhan's lyrics. Still, he knows this is special, a vulnerable moment, a look inside Lan Zhan's heart.

"I love you," he says softly, burying his face in Lan Zhan's shoulder because it's still something he struggles to say outside of his jokes and teasing, "so much."

[billowing]

He'd written that song during the years that Wei Ying had gone, and Lan Wangji had thought he'd be alone forever. He thought that all he could do to keep Wei Ying was to write him songs, and play him Inquiries.

"I love you," he responds, hand slipping through the silky, black locks. He nuzzles into Wei Ying's hair, and leans back against the tree, pulling Wei Ying with him so they can rest together.