EVENT #15: THE NETHER - IC EVENT LOG

[abraxasmods]

Event #15 - The Nether

OOC event plotting | settings info

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After a Conclave vote earlier this month, you're prepared to accept the formal request from the Nether for your assistance. By now, you'll know who the delegates are and that the dragons have suffered an illness from the rifts that opened this summer, due to the unfortunate actions of one of your fellow Summoned. Whether or not you agree with your Conclave's majority rule, the decision has been made.

The expedition will begin on October 16 and last 10 days. If you need to return home sooner, you can activate your portal stone at any point during the trip, but there's no going back once you do.

Though mysterious, the Draconae - or daemons, as others call them - are not elusive like the Fey. Anyone who's been to Nocwich will have seen a handful of them amongst the population, and some reside in the Free Cities or the outskirts of Thorne. The only nation they aren't found in is Solvunn.

Into the Heart

Your arrival to the Nether is a frosty one. The northern island is barren, save for a thick layer of snow, a few birds, and some hardy insects. Massive skeletal remains can be seen as you walk over the ice. Every few minutes, the ground trembles. The Draconae warriors greet you at the base of the volcano, including Orion, The Warden herself. Though they appear intimidating, they're grateful you're here and will clap you heartily on the back.

Entering the Obsidian Heart requires nerves of steel, but appearances aside, the narrow walkway is sturdy. As long as you're brave, you'll make it down without a problem. The less sure-footed are encouraged to ask for a hand. If they do, they'll be assigned a Draconum warrior who will cheerfully carry them down the winding path. You can also help each other, of course! Any Summoned who are capable can carry their friends, too.

As you venture down, the oppressive heat intensifies...until suddenly it stops. The moment you reach the fiery gates, the smell of brimstone fades from the air and the temperature eases into that of a pleasant summer's day. If asked, the Draconae will tell you this is how it is - a blessing from the two remaining dragons. Without them, the air would suffocate all life within.

Although the main purpose is to aid the dragons, the Draconae will invite characters to take breaks, participate in recreational activities, and explore the Nether. They want their guests to be comfortable, especially as the Summoned have arrived to help.

Around the City

At the center of the volcano lies the Obsidian Heart, where the Draconae reside. Made of stacking homes and stone bridges that spiral downward, it's a wonder how anyone finds their way. There are no maps, signage, or any form of direction. Their ability to navigate appears inherent. The most dangerous beasts lurk beneath the lava, so unless you intend to go swimming, you're unlikely to run into anything aggressive.

Doors and furniture are heavy and are made of iron, bronze, or steel. You might need to push or pull furnishings and doors with both hands and extra effort. Luckily, citizens are happy to help - as long as you ask. If you don't, they won't interfere out of respect for your autonomy. In fact, if they see you huffing and puffing, they might stop to watch and will sincerely cheer for you should you accomplish your objective by yourself.

Watch your sticky fingers. While petty theft is a minor offence in other places, the Draconae are highly protective of their belongings and treasures. Hands and heads have been lost over stolen trinkets.

The Hieran Wing

As a guest, you'll be invited to stay at the Hieran Wing. Named after Hierus, the oldest living dragon, the Hieran Wing is located in the eastern section of the Citadel. The rest of the Citadel is under heavy guard and inaccessible.

◎ The rooms are carved into the stone itself. Bedding is comfortable, if simple, with room to store your belongings. A curved stairwell grants you privacy even though many rooms have curtains rather than doors. The few rooms that have doors contain no locks. Your safety is assured, but if you're nervous, you can ask for a guard to watch you at night.

◎ The dining area consists of open-fire grills, pots, and raw ingredients - including spices and fiery hot peppers. As great believers in self-sufficiency, the Draconae will leave you to make meals to your taste and liking. You can hunt and fish your meat, as well. There are numerous lava pools where one can net jumbo shrimp, crabs, and flaming fish. For larger game, you can go after the Erymaes Boar or Petran Bison. Feel free to share your catch with your friends or offer to cook for the culinarily challenged.

◎ The library contains only fiction. You'll recognize several titles from your faction or Nocwich, suggesting they've brought back their favorite stories to read. Other titles are new, written by the Draconae. Novels and poetry span all genres, but the most common ones seem to be adventure, horror, and erotic romance - some of which contain surprisingly detailed illustrations.

Magma Pools

Outside the Hieran Wing, unusual cerulean magma pools are provided for bathing. Despite how they look, temperatures are equivalent to that of a steaming hot spring. The magma bubbles naturally from within the volcano and provides soothing effects. No soap or cleaning agents are required. These magma pools contain tiny frogs that leap and jump around. The Draconae consider them a tasty live snack. Don't be surprised if you see a local munching on them.

The Foundry

The Foundry has expanded over the past two centuries. A marketplace now circles the ancient forge. Observing the tradespeople inside and their secrets are off-limits. However, you can browse a selection of tools, clothes, accessories, and potions. Healing potions are common due to the Draconae's lack of healing magic.

You'll have the chance to request custom-made jewelry and purchase glass ornaments that are blown for you on the spot. Merchants won't sell the large weapons on display, but daggers and other small weapons are available. They'll also modify any pieces you own by adding jewels, altering the fit, or repairing nicks and faults...for a price. The Draconae deal in Abraxan currency if you have any, but they'll accept a vial or two of blood or saliva as payment.

Negotiations & Meetings (Rank 5+)

The first order of business is to present your Conclave's terms to the Inner Sanctum, the Draconae's governing body. If you've been voted as a delegate, you'll be greeted by the NPC meeting you (and your partner, if you have one). If you haven't been selected, you can still speak to some of the NPCs available.

A Place at the Table

Negotiations will take place in The Solar on the second day, a hall lit with a fiery orb of light. This is where the Inner Sanctum conducts all of its business. Tightly guarded, you're the first outsiders allowed inside in centuries. Here, you'll have the chance to present your terms and convince the Draconae to accept. You'll also have the first day of your arrival to gather a few details about the NPC you'll be meeting.

Only one meeting is required. The Nether will give you their final answer the following day.

Be sure to reply with the terms before starting the thread. Mods will approve or ask for revisions, so try to submit your points by OCTOBER 17.

Once approved, please TAG IN with your character under the correct faction heading.

Meeting the Inner Sanctum

Members of the Inner Sanctum who are not involved in diplomatic affairs are Aster, The Guardian and Anneth, The Flame. Additional descriptions about the two NPCs and where they can be found will be in their character comments below.

Characters who are Rank 5+ (negative or positive) and who are not acting as delegates can speak with one of the two NPCs above.

To do so, TAG IN with your character under the NPC you want to meet.

Runaway at Pyritean's Rack

Abraxan outsiders will whisper that Pyritean's Rack is a nefarious torture device created by the Draconae for their victims. This is true if the victim in question is delicious meat. The Rack, in other words, is a giant cooking area filled with grilling racks and pits. Shelves of ingredients and spices line the perimeter. Its most striking feature is the primary heat source, which uses magma rather than fire. Ingredients and meat unique to the Nether result in dishes and flavors not found elsewhere. Hot peppers are a popular feature.

The Draconae cook and share their food each night at the Rack. The station is always occupied. Locals take turns hunting and fishing, preparing ingredients, and cooking. Consequently, food is provided without cost. You only need to lend a hand.

Not everything goes smoothly, though. An escaped hatchling has infiltrated the Rack, and Khloris, the baby dragon, is eager to snatch and steal food throughout the week.

Earning the Torch

Impromptu competitions are frequent. They usually begin when one cook sees another outdoing them and makes a challenge. You can either issue a challenge or receive a challenge. Challenges can be between you and the natives, or you can face off with another Summoned. Judging is done by the crowd, which can be chaotic.

Not to worry! There's no downside to losing except your pride. Though the competition can grow fierce and heated in the moment - including vulgar insults and much jeering - once all is said and done, there are no grudges when the food hits the table. Sore losers are looked down on as being thin-skinned.

Winners will receive a jar of spice mix or marinating sauce from one of the many talented cooks. We won't be modding this aspect, so just be realistic with your character's cooking skills. Be sure to work things out with your thread partner if the competition involves another player character!

Escaped Hatchling

One young dragon has escaped its sanctuary at Dragon's Glass. Curious, it's drawn to the smell of food at Pyritean's Rack. As a result, it's disrupting competitions, breaking equipment, and stealing ingredients or even chunks of meat off people's plates. Desperate to get the dragon back before it causes more trouble - or worse, injures itself - the Draconae have asked you to catch the hatchling.

Of course, you'll need to contend with the dragon's unique abilities.

Khloris, the runaway in question, leaves behind small patches of grass. Its pollen dust coats nearly everything it goes near. When eaten or touched, the pollen causes flowers to sprout in your hair for a day or two. It can't fly far or very high, but it's prone to swooping down to snatch meat off the grill. The Flame informs you the dragon can be lured with gold trinkets or bright colors like red and yellow.

To see if your character can catch the dragon, submit for a roll HERE. Submissions will close October 18 at 11:59 ET. Results will be posted on October 19 so players can account for their success or failure.

Ailing Dragons

The two ailing dragons are Hierus, the Obsidian Drake, and Kruos, the Glass Serpent. Mated to each other, they're the only remaining adult dragons in the Nether and have been for decades. When you visit them at Dragon's Glass, their condition is worrisome. The dragons' scales have lost their luster and are grown over with painful white patches. They appear lethargic.

Those researching can offer the dragons healing potions or ointment to aid their symptoms while a cure is worked on. If you're not much of a healer or a scientist, you can feed them or simply spend time with them. The dragons are intelligent and appear capable of understanding you, though they can't communicate directly.

Characters have 3 avenues of participation, depending on their interests and strengths: gathering ingredients, researching the cure, and looking after the baby dragons and eggs. They'll have time to do all three throughout the 10-day excursion.

Finding a Cure

At first, you aren't sure where or how to start. The Draconae suggest the Ashlands may be a place to explore. It's dangerous, they warn, but they have a potion that'll help keep you safe. Due to the hazards, you're told not to go alone. As you travel through the deadened land, you notice an odd phenomenon: where you walk, the air around you clears, and the ground beneath your feet springs to life. You realize you don't need the potion to protect you.

The changes are temporary, fading behind you as you walk. Curiously, the effect you exhibit is similar to what the Draconae claim their dragons are capable of - though to a much smaller degree. Still, you have to wonder if you and the dragons share a similar magical connection to the Singularity. You can't help but notice that those of you who regularly interact with the Horizon and have been doing so for a while seem to affect your environment more. Your aura may be a little larger and the vicinity restored around you lasts a bit longer rather than melting away immediately - maybe even up to a minute or two.

Restoration and Gathering

Your ability to restore the land has unlocked a vital element. Ingredients once thought lost can now be gathered by the Summoned such as yourself, and they may hold the key to curing the dragons. Bring back these ingredients to your peers waiting at Dragon's Glass. The more you gather, the more they'll be able to research and experiment, so don't be shy about making multiple trips.

There are three sections for you to explore. Each one has its dangers and a specific ingredient to collect.

Due to its circumstances, Aetherie is only available on Day 9 of the event, shortly before the cure is finalized. The Draconae will seal the area once more when they realize what's happening. Cinder's Core and Featherhive are open for the full duration of the event.

◎ Cinder's Core

Filled with petrified trees and fossilized bones, the area that restores around you demonstrates its previous life as a flourishing rainforest: the humidity grows, the grass turns lush, and tropical flowers sprout under your fingertips. Although its sulfuric air won't affect you, you'll need to brave dangerous heights to reach the tops of trees and dried-up waterfall cliffs to retrieve the kydros fruit. The fruit smells like citrus and is surprisingly light despite its size.

Vines brought back to life can help you climb, forming ropes for you to climb and bridges that weave beneath your feet. They'll wither once more behind you, so you'll want to move quickly to avoid losing your footing. Height isn't the only danger - the ground below is littered with sharp skeletal protrusions and jagged trees. Beware of dangerous thorn bushes that will come to life in your presence and try to crush you in their spiny embrace as you ascend.

◎ Featherhive

The air here is too toxic for the Draconae to breathe in for long. Luckily you're unaffected. Scattered across the ground are the remaining husks of birds' nests. A dragon's skeleton curls under a rocky overhang. Use your restorative ability to journey deep into Featherhive's heart. Pushing aside the thick overgrowth reveals a small clearing covered in bright crystals for you to harvest.

Although Featherhive poses no physical danger, the land is haunted by shadow birds, ethereal spirits connected to the dragons - and you. As you pass through, they flutter around you and parrot familiar lines to each other. Their movements are jerky and strange. Quickly, you realize the birds are mimicking your memories. They might replicate an entire scene or echo a phrase or two that's plagued you all your life. Or, if you're lucky, they're merely repeating your grocery list. Shooing them will cause them to dissipate into smoke, but they'll soon return.

◎ Aetherie

The loss of a dragon released a noxious gas through this village without warning. Escaping villagers were forced to leave behind those they could not save and seal the doors. The Oblivion is a painful moment in history for many, and none have set foot near the area since. Near the end of your stay, the Draconae request you use your ability to venture where they can't and gather Anoix pods, powerful healing seeds from a plant that only grew in Aetherie. They believe the abandoned huts will contain pouches of the pods on shelves and cabinets.

Entering the village, you expect a tragic scene of corpses. Instead, you find something far worse. The dead have mutated into grotesque arachnids, limbs fused to bulbous abdomens. They show no signs of recognition or awareness and attack you on sight. Hidden in the depths of the purple haze, rat-sized spiders scurry forth. Their venom causes painful sores that will fester and spread if left untreated. Multiple bites may result in temporary blindness or paralysis of a limb. Luckily, this will clear up within 24 hours to a few days, depending on the severity.

Grab the pods if you can or flee if you're overwhelmed. When word reaches The Warden, she'll rapidly send her people to reseal the abandoned village and come to aid any who need it. If you're injured, The Flame and her apprentices will tend to you at Dragon's Glass.

Research and Magic

Dragon's Glass is a glass-domed temple said to be forged from the fires of Kruos. It's located in the Spiral, which is outside the Obsidian Heart. Here, the two remaining dragons reside while ill, along with their clutch of eggs and a few precious hatchlings.

Anneth, The Flame, will invite you into the temple's alchemy labs, where you can apply your skills and knowledge to create the healing elixir that cures the dragons. Doing so requires you to experiment with key ingredients found in the Ashlands. You'll have access to basic alchemy books and apprentices at the temple. Use any additional tools, supplies, and knowledge you possess, and take advantage of the resources donated by the factions.

How you approach your research is up to you, but each ingredient comes with a set of risks - so be careful while you work!

◎ The kydros fruit contains seeds that will explode when heated, causing a chain reaction like popped popcorn. The explosions aren't large, but they might scorch your supplies. Crushing them in the open air results in a similar chemical reaction. However, soaking them in water makes them soften into mush, allowing you to turn the seeds into a paste that could be useful. The fruit is similar to grapefruit and is excellent for a sore throat.

◎ The crystals come in three colors: red, blue, and black. Extended contact will dye your skin that color. The stains are extraordinarily stubborn, so your clothes may not recover. These crystals resonate with a strange hum that suggests they respond well to magic spells. Combining them with a liquid will give off a foul-smelling smoke, so you may need to find ways to neutralize the stench before combining it into an elixir.

◎ The Anoix pods must be used sparingly, as no more can be gathered from Aetherie. They possess strong healing properties, but each pod is very delicate and must be split open with care so as not to damage the soft seeds inside. In addition to researching the cure, you can also attempt to help the Dracaone grow new Anoix plants using the preserved seeds.

The final cure will use all 3 key ingredients. Don't worry too much about continuity! As long as your character participated, you can assume they made a valuable contribution.

However, to assist with coordination, we've provided a RESEARCH DISCOVERY section where you can present any findings your character would share with others in-game.

Hatchlings and Eggs

While curing the adult dragons is a priority, the hatchlings and eggs aren't to be neglected. Baby dragons are active troublemakers, and without their parents to keep them in line, they've become especially unruly. The apprentices at the temple can only do so much. The Keeper has even made rare appearances in Dragon's Glass to lend his assistance.

Meanwhile, the eggs are beginning to show signs of affliction. The shells are beginning to weaken, and the feathery growths appearing on them will suffocate the hatchling inside if left untreated.

Babysitting the Dragons

If you have a spare moment, you can look after the baby dragons. Keep them out of trouble by reading their favorite stories, singing songs, and playing with them. They'll also need to be fed, watered, and their bedding changed or fluffed. The hatchlings are mischievous but friendly. They're eager to bond with the Summoned for reasons unexplained, as if they feel something resonating within you.

Many are attracted to shiny objects and bright colors and will attempt to steal them. Conversely, they might gift you a trinket that they've pilfered from someone else. The local Draconae would appreciate it if you returned any missing tools or jewels.

Hatchlings you'll encounter in Dragon's Glass are:

◎ Okenus spouts water instead of flame. Bearing fins instead of wings, this sea dragon is vital to bringing lakes and rivers back to the Nether. Currently, it can only make tiny puddles and rainclouds. Watch that your belongings don't get wet. Standing near the dragon might cause a small storm cloud to spawn over you and rain down on your head. A simple spell will make the cloud disappear, but if you don't have any magic, you might have to bring an umbrella.

◎ Epeius can form miniature gusts of wind beneath its wings, but it doesn't have firm control and frequently spawns them when excited. These small dust devils and whirlwinds will follow you around. Though they aren't powerful, they can be a nuisance, knocking over cups, blowing away hats, and sending papers flying. The other hatchlings will find your misfortune a source of amusement.

◎ Ledas can help salt deposits form in the shape of large salt crystals. Salt is important to the Draconae, which the hatchling is aware of and thus takes great pride in its abilities. The crystals can be eaten as is or crushed into granules. Ledas will strive to impress you with the largest crystals that it can make...which occasionally results in the structure collapsing, littering the ground with salt. You might find yourself sweeping often around this dragon, but at least you'll never be short on seasoning.

◎ Anthusa is a very special hatchling that creates bioluminescent algae. The algae grow on its scales, forming a symbiotic relationship. Unfortunately, without a proper habitat for this algae in the Nether, its glow has dimmed in recent years and the hatchling has become languid and sickly despite its youth. Nonetheless, Anthusa is friendly and curious even if it struggles to keep up with its siblings. You can help Anthusa play by lifting it to heights it can't reach, and carrying it back when the dragon is too tired to walk.

Weakened Eggs

As noted, the eggs demonstrate signs of suffering, too. Three eggs are waiting to be hatched. Whether all of the eggs survive is dependent on the decision that each faction Conclave made regarding resources found, as well as the help provided by you and your fellow Summoned.

The eggs can't be cured until the dragons are cured, but you can help slow the growths by gently scraping them off and wiping the eggs regularly with a clean cloth. They must also be kept heated, so check the magma frequently and refill any magma basins. The growths can be donated to those researching for additional study if you wish.

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Comments

[godshattering]

[ What Sylvain says is no comfort, especially after Hilda confirms she didn't have to head this far in either. Neither of which Claude acknowledges beyond a nod that'll definitely convey - something even if he also hasn't the slightest what that'll be. He's tempted to grab an arrow just to fidget with it even if his bow's not at the ready since once again there seems to be nothing else around but those investigating for supplies.

Well. No one but the damned birds, that is.

Claude catches the same motion of one within the tree above and stiffens slightly in something close to dread if he'd allow himself to name it, and his gaze stays firmly fixed upon the bird even as there's crystals likely to collect. When the bird speaks he narrowly avoids flinching, even if it's not a voice meant for him. This one is something which barely qualifies as an echo of a memory when so much else overrode it on that night at the tower, but there's no mistaking the way Sylvain whirls towards it with his lance clutched in his hands - and that expression. ]

Sylvain, hey. Look at us. It's not real.

[ Said with a steadiness that's both urgent and calm as he reaches out to grip the other man's arm with a gloved hand, glancing first at him, then at Hilda in concern, and then back up at the infernal bird still chatting away. It wouldn't do anything but waste an arrow, but shooting one towards it would feel awfully satisfying. ]

It's the bird over there. The ones in here just like to... repeat things... you'd rather they didn't.

[ Just file that under Regrets™ he has when it comes to things that would've been better to mention on the off chance Sylvain hadn't heard about them before walking in. ]

[theidlemaiden]

[ Even after all the time she's spent here - which is more than she'd ever like to admit - the unnerving quality of human voices coming from the throats of the birds hasn't worn off. Nerves of steel would have never been more handy than they would now if only so that she could provide some comfort for whatever is to come.

Her head snaps from the direction Sylvain had been looking in before being ripped towards the bird again. She puts two and two together as her brows furrow together in concern - her previous experiences with the birds, the cruel voice, the way Sylvain's entire body language shifts - it's obvious it's for him.

Were Claude already not holding Sylvain's hand she might have reached for it, but seeing their hands clasped makes her change her mind, flaring unnecessary feelings. Perhaps comforting is better left to Claude than her. What she can always be counted on is some form of laziness to bail them out of any situation and she plays that card now. Her touch to Sylvain's arm is brief and slips away as quickly as it comes. ]

We can turn around at any point. The Draconae probably have enough crystals at this point. Or someone else will come by.

[philancer]

[ Crest-bearing fool, another of the crows echoes, doing an impressive mimicry of the sneering disdain that voice had so often held, immediately followed by another in a tree a little farther away, giving an unhinged-sounding cackle before crying out, I’ll kill you!

Sylvain’s eyes slam shut as his fingers wrap around Claude’s wrist where he grips his arm. For a moment, that grip is something edging towards desperate as he repeats Claude’s words in his head. It’s not real. He’s not real anymore, and certainly not here. A ragged exhale escapes him as he tries to push down the wash of fear, of dread, that voice had always evoked in him.

It was one he’d been quite happy to acknowledge he’d never have to hear again. Not outside his nightmares, at least.

He feels Hilda’s fingers brush against his arm, hears her offer, giving him an out, and that makes him feel ashamed for his reaction. Forcing his eyes open again, he manages the faintest hint of a rueful smirk that doesn’t at all reach haunted amber eyes as he shakes his head. ]

No. We came out here for the crystals. I’ll be alright. [ Lips quirk a little further, this time holding the faintest shadow of bitter sarcasm. ] It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.

[ He gives Claude’s wrist a gentler squeeze this time, attempting to reassure him - or maybe himself - before releasing him and straightening up once more. ]

I think I saw a glow under the foliage there by the tree, before… We should check it out.

[godshattering]

[ The birds continue to talk and though he doesn't want to listen, doesn't want to hear what's being said, it's impossible to not. Even as Claude keeps his gaze back on Sylvain after that hand finds his wrist and even as he shifts to look at Hilda, ready to take the out offered by moving it forward into some other something about to come out of his mouth. Before he can the squeeze catches his attention and so do the words. So does Sylvain's want (or supposed want) to continue looking despite the terrible statements said aloud which Claude realizes connect in a vague sort of way to something else he's been told before, and he sets his mouth in a thin line momentarily. ]

Just because you've heard them before doesn't mean you have to keep hearing it.

[ The desire to argue is still there even with that supposed acceptance of this being something they have to deal with by being in here. Which it is, but - well. With an inaudible sigh Claude lets go of Sylvain and runs that hand through his hair instead to shake off everything else. ]

Let's just --

[ Before he can finish that thought, another bird flaps to a branch right overheard and rasps, Khalid. There's just enough time after wondering he'd heard that correctly to smooth his face into a careful, deliberate blankness of geniality held in place like nothing's being said before the cry is picked up by a second bird. Like it knows, somehow, that there's nothing he'd rather have said less than this as yet another bird calls it out to turn it into something mocking. Khalid, Khalid, Khalid.

It's no less odd to hear his name said aloud here in Abraxas than it was the first time Wanda told it to him in the Horizon after the nightmare's reveal. The repetition is leading somewhere, he's sure, but he doesn't want to know what it is. Claude doesn't acknowledge any of it, face set in a mask he knows the other two will see through as he walks stiffly towards the glow spotted earlier. ]

Let's just find what we're here for.

[theidlemaiden]

[ Hilda watches them both with a quiet, observation, one that only comes out when she knows she needs to pay attention to something that could be important. That is important. Except this time there's something else that joins that. A rare cloud of anger appears like a shadow behind her eyes at Sylvain's insistence that he's built a tolerance for words that shouldn't ever have been uttered in the first place. There's no point in reiterating Claude's words. Her reassurance feels inadequate in this moment just like it always has in the face of someone else more capable and she decides that the best way to approach it is as she always has: by dealing with it afterwards, if at all.

She's ready to brush it away as they continue onwards, leading the way through the ever growing wildlife in front of them. All of the crowing feels like muddled noise and it's easy for her to ignore it much like she had Academy lectures - until she catches a name and sees Claude's face. The soft flutter of wings join the soft symphony of their memories as the birds continue to follow them – Crest-bearing fool! Khalid, Khalid, Khalid.

Her gaze falls on Claude, eyes filled with a concerned question mark along with remnants of steely annoyance from before. What the annoyance is aimed at is difficult to say; at a glance it's mostly at the birds for causing any discomfort in the first place but only she might be vaguely aware that this mysterious name touches on her still sensitive wound from their fight. Her nosey second nature flares up but she smothers both down.

Quickly she casts a glance towards Sylvain, pointing towards a tree in the east not too far from them. There's an attempt at exasperated teasing. ]

That tree right? You're going to have to be a little more specific because there are a lot of trees, Sylvain.

[philancer]

[ He’s braced for them to argue with him - because when don’t they? - so he’s more than a little relieved when Claude withdraws with a drawn sigh and a scrape of fingers through his dark hair. He turns to glance back at Hilda, meeting her gaze, because he hasn’t missed her silence throughout this.

He’s about to open his mouth to ask, when a new voice joins the chorus of caws, interrupting his brother’s hate-filled taunts. It’s only the way Claude goes suddenly still at his side that has his head jerking back in his direction.

Khalid, the creature taunts, and Claude gives away more in his still blankness than he ever could in emotional reaction. Sylvain has no idea what that means - or who, maybe? - but he can tell it has instantly turned Claude as uncomfortable as he’d been moments before. The birds seem to sense it, too, more of them picking up on the taunt now as the name rings out like a chant from the trees around them.

Khalid, Khalid, Khalid…

Who the fuck was Khalid?

He bites the question back, however - for the moment, at least, even as he turns and starts to trudge towards the tree he’d first spotted the glow from, before the crows had interrupted them. ]

This way. Let’s get these collected and get out of here, before they get more creative.

[ He’s pretty sure neither of them are going to argue with him on that. But he does cast a worried glance to the side, first to Claude, and then back to meet Hilda’s gaze, a silent question lurking in his eyes. ]

[godshattering]

[ Is it better or worse that neither of them ask anything and instead focus on the task they're supposed to be completing? Claude doesn't know, mostly because he also doesn't know if they've connected it to him or not. There's only so far his lack of reaction can go, he knows, before it says just as much as if he'd flinched as openly as Sylvain rightfully had at what was said - what's still being said.

Maybe it's fortunate the birds have only chanted his name even if it's still too close to leading into something else with how that mocking way they say it threatens to do. Maybe he shouldn't have thought that again for a second time when one bird laughs Shahid's laugh and follows it up with what makes you think you'll ever be good enough, you little brat? You'll never accomplish anything close to what I have! The other birds are quick to pick it up to loop it through Sylvain's thoughts while at least one continues chanting his name.

His usual nonchalance, act or otherwise, has Claude opening his mouth to question if the birds can't do better than that when it's the weakest insult of all the ones it could hurl - but he snaps it shut at the last instant. Why tempt fate?

Instead he follows that up with a muttered, ] Charming.

[ Crystals - never mind that he doesn't know where he's going exactly since Sylvain's supposed to leading to where he saw them; Claude steps forward to walk in front with the only goal there to be to not see whatever looks are being exchanged again.

A couple rounds of the chanting fade out and then a new voice joins the fray: Judith's. You had better shut that mouth before I put my boot in it, you tactless nuisance! He doesn't quite laugh, but the tension in his shoulders relaxes by degrees. Even if the annoyance in the words means that was almost certainly tied to some way he was exasperating her, it's a relief in more ways than one to hear it now. ]

[theidlemaiden]

[ Sylvain's glance towards her before he leads the way doesn't go unnoticed. It's enough for her to draw the conclusion that he has just as little clue as to what Khalid could possibly mean except that it's very clearly linked to Claude. 

The name, whoever that is, is just the tip of the iceberg - at least when it comes to the birds finding a new subject to unleash their annoying ability on. In her periphery she keeps a steady watch on both of the men's reactions and catches Claude's just as a new voice joins the cacophony of noises above them. Another glance is spared towards Sylvain - her brows drawn together in concern and annoyance with how the birds are obviously affecting someone usually unflappable. A prickle of anxiety breaks out across her chest knowing that there's nothing once again that she can do to offer comfort. 

Without thinking she hastens her pace to catch up with Claude, drawing up beside him just as a voice she is familiar joins the crueler ones. Judith, as hard as a woman as she could be, is still someone that Claude admired. But that doesn't dismiss that cruel voice from before. Is she meant to address it here? Would either of them want to? Would it be something better left to him and Sylvain when they're alone? Her eyes dart ahead of them just to ensure that she isn't going to trip over something when she sees it - the unmistakable glow of some crystals. ] 

I think I see some! 

[ She darts forwards with a triumphant air about her to dig into the underbrush revealing their prize. It's a smaller cluster than would be useful which means they'd have to find more, but it's at least something. It's a start. Hilda turns around to grin at the both of them, part way to asking if one of them could collect it when she hears Setheth's familiar voice croak out of a bird perched above her. 

"Once upon a time, deep in the cold mountains, there lived a lazy fox and an industrious squirrel. The squirrel worked tirelessly, all day long, while the fox did nothing but lounge around and play. When autumn came, the squirrel hurriedly gathered up acorns for the winter. But the fox continued to play without a care. A biting winter fell upon the land. The mountains, caked in snow, concealed all nourishment from sight. The hungry fox went to the squirrel's dwelling, but the squirrel had locked up tight and gone to sleep. Every so often, the squirrel would wake, enjoy a nibble of an acorn, and then return to an easy slumber. The fox, on the other hand, with nowhere else to turn, was forced to scrounge for food in the bitter cold of the forest. Forlorn and hungry, he wandered in solitude all through the winter, until spring came once more."

Hilda's smile freezes, caught off guard before it returns to normal - ]

It would be just our luck that Setheth would be telling us a story right now, huh?

[philancer]

[ None of the voices taunting Claude are familiar - at least he doesn’t think so. Not that he knows many people from the Alliance anyway, outside of those that attended Academy with them. None of them sound very pleasant, however, although Claude seems to relax more at the last one, which is even more confusing, because whoever the woman had been sounded just as mean as the others.

Eh. Claude had weird reactions to things that made no sense outside of his own brain. He’d realized that a long time ago.

Still, as they all come to crouch around one of the trees where he thought he’d spotted a crystal outcropping, there’s another voice that rings out overhead. The sound of it is familiar enough to have him tensing, but that just melts into a confused expression when he doesn’t recognize any of the words. ]

Some luck. That’s not my memory, though. He never said that many words that calmly to me at one time. [ Seteth had definitely not been one of his fans. The feeling was pretty mutual. ] Here, look. There’s not many but it might be enough.

[ He reaches down to move some of the dry shrubs out of the way to reveal what he’d seen, half hidden in the ground and the roots of the tree. Turning his head, he shoots a glance over his shoulder at them, mouth open to ask another question before one more bird decides to get one last sharp jab in.

Wretched little thief.

The voice that hisses those words sounds far too close and far too menacing. And there seems to be almost a strange echoing quality to it. Maybe the way it’s bouncing off the rocks around them? It’s hard to say, but it’s familiar enough that it has Sylvain freezing, words dying on his lips.

Let’s see you try and crawl your way out of this one. No one will find you down there. I hope you rot!

He goes frighteningly still, because he… hadn’t realized he even still remembered those words, although clearly some part of his brain still had. He’d been too dazed and lost in pain and terror in the moment to recall exactly what those words had been, but they strike him like lightning now, his face draining of blood and leaving him pale. He sways on his feet, unsteady, and for a moment his vision seems like it’s coming from the long end of a dark tunnel, even though he knows he’s standing out in the open with no walls around him whatsoever.

To add insult to injury, the shadow bird that had hissed out the words ruffles its feathers with a croak that sounds something like a deranged laugh before bursting away from the branch overhead and flapping away. As it goes, it picks up another old chant that still haunts his nightmares, every word uttered with the downbeat of its wings as it flies off into the distance.

Die! Die! Die! Die! Die!

He stares after it, unseeing, and begs his lungs to remember how to breathe, because they stopped somewhere in the middle of all that and haven’t started up again yet. All he can hear now is the roar of a too-fast heartbeat in his ears as he braces a hand against the tree trunk.

It’s not real. It’s just playing on old nightmares. He reminds himself of the words over and over again until his chest starts to burn and he finally manages to drag in a sharp, ragged gasp of air through the panic he’s trying to stave off before it takes him out at the knees.

He’s not sure his body believes him about anything right now, let alone his mind. ]

[godshattering]

[ As quickly as the relief at hearing Judith's voice again appeared it disappears as quickly when the birds don't keep it going. It'd be fitting if they somehow knew that was more like a balm than the rest because he hears Shahid's laugh again somewhere, and this time he doesn't flinch. It takes Claude another few seconds to ready one of his masks when it feels like several more have been ripped out of his hands though when his smile feels like it's at its usual believability he starts to turn it towards the two of them.

Only for it to still and this time not because of anything related to his memories when Seteth starts talking - and keeps going. And going. And - nope, still going.

Claude doesn't have to look at Sylvain to know it's unlikely to be his based on... other revelations they've had before, and that just leaves Hilda. Definitely leaves Hilda when he catches the frozen smile on her face he knows well from other times of catching her in the middle of something and that too casual breezing over something he's definitely not going to let go all because there's some crystals Sylvain wants to grab to keep them on task. ]

Wait, wait, wait a minute. We're not just going to pretend Seteth didn't do that for one of us. Not me either, considering any of the stories I dug up he promptly confiscated, and --

[ Wherever Claude was going to go with that doesn't matter when that next bird breaks in. What it has to say: it practically wrings the air from his lungs when it gets worse with each passing word.

There's no guessing on who this is for even before he looks to Sylvain and the crystals are forgotten once again. His too pale expression, that jagged breath, the way he's looking at something that's not in front of them all crack something deep in his chest. They should've just left - Claude feels that with a regret so strong it aches, but no time to dwell on it. It can be addressed later as he pulls off his gloves to grip the other man's shoulders to turn him around to face them when this is far more critical. ]

Look at me. Look at us. [ It's too close to The Pit again but in a new and even more horrible way and there was one thing that'd worked there to get Sylvain to focus as Claude places one hand against one side of the other man's face. With the other he reaches for Hilda's hand to place it on his other cheek so they're both holding onto Sylvain as he drops his own hand to the other's shoulder afterwards. ] We've got you. The three of us - we're the only ones here, Sylvain. Hold onto us instead of the tree, okay?

[theidlemaiden]

[ For a moment she thinks that the bird latching onto a piece of her memory means that it will follow that same thread, continuing to tug and pull at nothing significant or traumatizing to speak of. It's her hope anyway. She's been here enough times now that it becomes readily apparent to her that there is nothing awful in her life to speak, so if she becomes the boring sacrificial lamb then so be it. Sometimes a lack of substance came in handy for moments like these. 

She can tell immediately where Claude is trying to go with this. ] 

Oh, please. I would have fallen asleep after the first line of that story. I never could stay awake when he lectured. Well, when any man lectures, really - 

[ Before she can continue deflecting however a cruel cacophony of words assaults them. Her gaze goes where Claude's goes, worry draining any mirth from her expression and replacing it with nothing but wide-eyed horror.

Everything the birds are saying is cruel and awful - but something specifically spears through her spine like ice. No one will find you down there. That night on the roof of the Sarstina Sylvain had told her he'd fallen down a well when he had been young but had chalked it up to being unlucky. But had there been more to it than accidental clumsiness? The voice is unmistakable, laced with caustic hate that meant to cut to the bone. Anger roils for a moment in her belly before she reminds herself - it's useless to be angry with a ghost let alone a ghost that isn't hers. She shakes off her stupor, ready to insist that the both of them leave and she'll continue on this task alone when suddenly her hand is being tugged towards Sylvain's cheek.

Her first instinct is to flinch away. This is wrong. What comfort can she provide that can't be provided by Claude and Claude alone? She's intruding. But then she looks at Sylvain, pale, wide-eyed, shaking from the words being shot at him like a barrage of arrows. She doesn't know what she can provide, but she has to try. With a firm gentleness she gently guides the hand against the tree trunk to Claude's waist instead. Her breaths become audible as they begin to ebb and flow slowly like molasses in the silent hope that Sylvain's breath would fall in time with hers. That it would bring some comfort when she felt words failed her. All the while her eyes gaze at him brimming with worry. ] 

[philancer]

[ The panic isn’t so easy to banish, but he tries anyway. It’s illogical, ignoring any of the arguments Sylvain’s mind stabs at it with in reminder that none of this is real, he has nothing to actually panic about. Just old ghosts that can’t touch him anymore, memories he’d done so well to bury so deep for so long.

At least until something slices through a never-quite-healed wound and makes it gush blood all over again.

But the panic is a familiar adversary, at least, even if he’s rusty at fending it off. It’s been a long time since anything had stabbed at his vulnerabilities so fast and sharp. The Pit had, but everything down there had been terrible and he was one among many trying to survive the trauma of it.

Instead he was here, with the shadow birds aiming a mortal blow at one of his biggest weaknesses, exposing it to the light and dragging it into the plain view of the last two people in the world he ever wanted to see him that way.

But he lets Claude’s hands on him ground him, then Hilda’s. His eyes are closed, shutting everything else out except for that warm touch, flesh on flesh, and not in the painful way that so often accompanied the memories those words, that voice, had dragged to the surface once more. He leans into their touch, one hand fisting in the fabric of Claude’s shirt at his waist, the other coming up to grip at Hilda’s wrist as he leans into their touch.

He can hear Hilda’s breathing, struggles to focus on it beyond the drowning pound of his own pulse in his ears. He latches onto it anyway like a lifeline. Trying to force his lungs to cooperate, to match the slow steady rhythm she offers him. It takes several moments - moments that feel like lifetimes in their excruciating length while his body rebels against even the most natural of functions. But he manages a ragged breath, sharp and shaking. And then another.

He hates that it feels like a victory in its own way.

Its several more long moments before it starts to come easier, his lungs finally remembering how they’re supposed to work when not frozen in fear. When not waiting to choke on mouthfuls of water seeking to drown him, even though it’s air he’s trying to drag in instead.

It takes him longer still to force his eyes open, dark and pupils dilated by the fear and adrenaline that had gone surging through him out of nowhere. He ends up staring at Claude’s chin, though. Unable to meet their eyes.

It’s enough to prompt out a choked and raw sounding, ] …Sorry.

[godshattering]

No apologies, remember?

[ He'd meant it in the Pit, for everything that'd happened and what it'd brought about, and it still holds true now. It doesn't take but more than a second to come to mind here too when there's nothing about this Sylvain could ever need to apologize for.

Not the reaction to the birds and the struggle for composure afterwards - still going on if that lack of eye contact is anything to go by even as he continues to look evenly at Sylvain all the same - not what they'd heard when none of that had been anything deserved. It wouldn't be, not even with how Sylvain had described his brother's insistence he'd replaced him and the equal insistence that was his fault and not anyone else's. That he'd been a target, and the ugly words have made exactly how that'd happened incredibly crystal clear.

Upsetting doesn't begin to cover it.

Claude forces calm he doesn't truly feel as he runs a thumb back and forth along Sylvain's cheek while they continue to support the man still frayed at the seams from having something important ripped away so painfully. Maybe he shouldn't mention it. Maybe the right thing to do, impossible as it seems to find anything right about this, is to use all those skills he's honed to redirect attention, cover something up, move it right along to something far more pleasant.

But it feels like it'd be a disservice even if doing the opposite carries every bit as much risk, and they're all ones Claude sets aside to focus on the only part to this which does matter most: Sylvain. ]

It's not your fault, Sylvain. [ This, what was said, the past - all of it. ] You have nothing to apologize for in any of this.

[theidlemaiden]

[ When Sylvain's broken apology pulls ragged from his throat, she has to swallow the rising lump in hers. The attempt to try and drag anything remotely comforting to the surface and string them into words that could soothe proves difficult especially when it feels like what Claude says is from a conversation the men had had in confidence. The rising urge to insist they leave, that Claude take it from here and continue doing what he's doing, perches ready at the tip of her tongue. 

But it's Sylvain's grasp around her wrist that keeps her there unlike how her grasp of honeyed flattery can't help her here because it isn't the time or place. It's easier to follow Claude's lead like she always has than try to come up with anything herself. ]

Claude's right. Everything awful that happened to you, everything he did, isn't a reflection of you. We don't think any less of you. 

[ Overhead the shadow birds caw, singing some perverted symphony of Claude and Sylvain's memories that could never be called a song by any definition of the word. Anger that had only been momentarily dampened rolls in her stomach again. As the line of her jaw tightens a nearby rock hovers off the ground, shooting into the cluster of them with precise accuracy. They scatter, but not before cawing mockingly, "They're so lucky to have one another." in a voice she recognizes but she hopes is too distorted by the flapping of wings to be recognizable by anyone else.

Gently she wriggles her wrist free from his hold, threading their fingers together. Despite how quiet her words are behind them blazes unwavering certainty. ] 

You don't have to pretend to be fine right now. 

[philancer]

[ He doesn't argue that he's fine, although that's as automatic a reaction for him as apologizing. They might even see him physically bite it back before it escapes off the tip of his tongue.

His fingers tighten around Hilda's, clinging to her when she tangles their fingers together, not letting her go. His other hand is still fisted in Claude's shirt but as he hasn't pulled away, Sylvain's going to use that as an excuse to keep using it to brace himself. Ground himself.

He's still struggling to breathe in anything resembling a calm, normal pattern, but it still sounds a little too loud, too fast, and too ragged - at least in his own ears. He swallows thickly, throat sore and raw, even though he's only spoken a single word. ]

I will be fine.

[ He's not sure if he says that to convince them or himself. He's not sure it's enough to work, either way. ]

I know it's not real. It just... caught me by surprise. I'd forgotten...

[ He trails off, shaking his head as he closes his eyes for a moment again, a shudder sliding visibly down his spine. He takes a deep breath. Then another. Hoping he's steady enough on his feet, he steps back, takes space. Stays upright, that's a win, right?

A glare is shot upwards at the scattering flock of birds before he turns and goes back to purposefully ignoring them. Trying to focus on the now. On what they still need to do.

Without another word, he bends to start digging out the crystals once more. ]

[godshattering]

[ This also rings familiar in ways he wishes it didn't when Sylvain tells them he will be fine, like that somehow counters anything he or Hilda said, and that by mentioning it's not real it feels a bit like saying this doesn't matter. But it does, Claude wants to say. Instead he bites the edge of his tongue to keep the words from flying out of his mouth - a wise choice when Sylvain goes right back to looking for crystals like nothing at all happened.

It doesn't keep Claude from staring at the other man's back for a long moment before looking to Hilda with his brows furrowed since he has a feeling she's not going to like this any more than he does. But there's limited ways to go from here when it feels like Sylvain's all but shut a door on this - to both of them, even as a bird overhead says something he could've sworn was in Hilda's voice before it leaves that only his subconscious catches. ]

Don't touch them without gloves or you might dye your hands a new color.

[ Is what he finally says in the most half-hearted way with the barest attempt to make that sound anywhere close to his usual joking. Claude begrudgingly crouches down next to shuffle some dirt this way and that in what is absolutely not actual work in retrieving anything and despite his curiosity from before, glances to Hilda in a signal to go with what's about to come out of his mouth until they have a better chance to talk later. An old trick from too many meetings with stuffy nobles, and one he hopes will work. ]

So... that story Seteth wrote. Was it about Ignatz?

[ Somewhere Ignatz is frowning and Claude feels no regrets. ]

[theidlemaiden]

[ Hilda's expression is similar to Claude's: brows knit together in concern as she chews at her lower lip slightly with her teeth. It's a bad habit that had been groomed out of her at an early age for the reason that it was unladylike and sometimes she did so hard enough that it made her lip bleed. Her governess had done an astounding job at ridding her of the habit (it was mostly the nasty medicine she had smeared in Hilda's favourite lip gloss to deter her from doing so) and it rarely reared its head anymore. Except for moments like these apparently. 

She understands why Sylvain immediately reverts back to his "Everything is Fine" mode mostly due to the fact they're all probably some of the worst culprits of it. Being around one another only manages to perpetuate it. Sylvain returning to crystal collecting proves to be a blessing in disguise - if only for purely selfish reasons because the mimicry the bird had done had been something she didn't need or want either of them to hear.

All the same she watches Sylvain's back with that same worried expression until a beat later Claude pipes up, clearly choosing to bookmark this for a later time. The glance is all she needs to confirm that and she's quick to follow along.

Her voice immediately brightens without a beat of hesitation. ]

Now that you mention it, I think I remember being with Ignatz when Setheth told it. I thought it was a cute story but Ignatz thought that it might have been about him. I don't know how he got that impression. After all, it's not like Setheth was trying to call him lazy or anything. If he was going to do that he would have just told him so, don't you think? 

[ Ignatz's frown is deepening even further somewhere in Fodlan. ] 

[philancer]

[ Everything in him right now feels like such a jumbled mess, shaken and shaking to such an extent that he wouldn't even know where to begin anyway. So he's pathetically grateful that they let him get away with his diversion. A brush off that buys him a few moments to try and drag his composure back to where it's supposed to be. And all these messy conflicts going right back to being buried so deep he can keep hoping they'll never know the light of day.

His hand is reaching for the nearest cluster of crystals when Claude's warning makes him pause. Not looking up still, he reaches back to retrieve his work gloves instead. He still can't bring himself to meet either of their gazes, so he lets them talk over him instead. He's not even listening to their words right now, can't bring his brain into focus enough for that, while it floats in some cold empty numbness. Distantly, he's aware that that's probably not good, but at the moment he can't quite bring himself to care, either.

Their voices, at least, are soothing in their own way. A reminder of where he is, of who's watching his back. It's enough to stave off the return of any of his panic.

When he's gathered all the clusters of crystals he can find under this particular tree, he leans back on his heels again, knapsack secured over one shoulder as he looks up... but doesn't manage to get much higher than their waists, really. Going higher, meeting their gazes right now, seems like an insurmountable challenge. He doesn't want to see what might still be lurking in their gazes. ]

I think that's all of them here. Should we keep looking? Although there was a bunch under this one, so we might be okay with that.

[ He's not nearly so good at making his voice sound convincing right now. It's a close mimicry, but there's something hollow in it. ]

[godshattering]

[ Hilda immediately following the lead he'd tossed out there is enough that Claude lets out another inaudible breath in something not quite a sigh of relief but pretty damn close to it. He doesn't believe it was really Ignatz, then considers that maybe he should've said Raphael instead before dismissing that when it's hard to imagine Raphael being lectured about anything instead of just cheerfully agreeing to it.

Not that it matters; it's not difficult to see that even as they keep up some chatter in a pretend return to normalcy and as though Fodlan hadn't followed them in here in somehow far worse ways than whatever else has already been accounted for. Sylvain doesn't really relax beyond what Claude thinks is a veneer of it, and he gives up on pretending like he's doing work to simply stay crouched with his elbows on his knees and to watch as the other man picks up one crystal and then another. Sylvain's not really there, that much he can see, but the fact that he's halfway pretending like he is is honestly more worrisome than anything else.

Which is why he keeps his gaze trained on him even as Sylvain stands up and pretends to want to keep going even if it'd mean sacrificing himself to the potential for more memories to come to light. Claude doesn't have the heart to do anything else but - ]

Actually, I was thinking of checking out those magma pools, springs, whatever they are back by where we're staying after this since I haven't been yet.

[ A lie, but it rolls out as seamlessly as any other ones Claude offers if not on the hollow side as he stands up. It's as cheerful as he can force out when someone they care about is so obviously hurting right here and now to the point where he won't even look back at either one of them. A small part of Claude bitterly detests going along with this, but it's the hand he feels like he has to play. ]

Hilda, weren't you saying there's some special spa thing that goes with it someone was going to offer? I could use a good scrub to get rid of being in here and I think we've earned a little enjoyment.

[theidlemaiden]

[ Lying shouldn't come as easily as it does for her, but then again, bending the truth had never really been something she had considered lying either. And is it really lying when that had been in the cards anyway? Unlike Claude she had been planning on checking out the magma pools - when it happened and who it happened with didn't really matter to her, particularly when there will never be as good excuse as any than this one. Hilda has always had a talent for being easily pliable to whatever the scenario called for and here, she has no problem taking on the role of a vapid airhead if it means providing someone a means of escape. ] 

Actually I made friends with one of the spa owners who said they'd be more than happy to throw in the scrub for some spit. 

[ There's actually little desire on her part to go into the details of her exasperating haggling experience with that lanky, dark haired boy in the market who so desperately wanted a spear. The point of the story, if she did go into it, was that she had enough spit to get the three of them scrubs if she batted her eyelashes and asked nicely enough. There is another reason for her saying that ridiculous statement though and that's in the hopes that it would bring some levity to this when she couldn't provide anything else. ]

If we leave now we should be able to get a scrub in before they close! 

[ Without waiting for a word of confirmation she begins to usher the both of them up and out back the way they came, situating Sylvain between she and Claude. The flutter of wings follow them out, soft caws and indistinguishable voices calling out around them. Amongst them she picks out the mocking call from before - They're so lucky. So lucky. So lucky!, that only fuels her faux cheerful prattle to drown it out. ]