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ABRAXAS MODS ([personal profile] abraxasmods) wrote in [community profile] abraxaslogs2024-04-17 10:07 am
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EVENT #18: EMERGENCE - IC EVENT LOG

Event #18 - Emergence
Whether voluntary or by force, you find yourself transported to the Singularity's crater. There probably aren't many resistors - officials have taken great pains to convince you to come voluntarily, reserving force as a last resort - but it's clear that everyone is required for this to work. It takes multiple mages to stabilize the portal, but you make it there in one piece. If you cooperate, you'll be asked to walk towards the ancient relic. If you resisted, you might be forced to do so while restrained. Regardless, a heavy fog soon descends around the area, obscuring you and your vision.

If you have thoughts of turning back, it's too late: for some of you, the second you step across the threshold, a force pulls at your chest and absorbs your psyche at once. For others, a mystical call beckons you to walk a little further before the same effect takes hold. And for a rare few, the call brings you to the Singularity itself, where you're compelled to touch it - and are subsequently swallowed up like the others.

The Horizon doesn't greet you like you might expect. Instead, something far stranger awaits.

Please communicate with your fellow players as needed! We also recommend discussing with us if you plan on a major environmental upheaval. As a rule of thumb, you should avoid changes to the landscape that will significantly alter the established map.

We've also posted comment sections for WORLDBUILDING and HANDWAVED submissions. Instructions can be found at the respective links.

Year 20,879
When you open your eyes, it feels like you've only blinked. If your body has transformed or you're someplace that shouldn't exist, it doesn't strike you as odd. You were always here. Everything around you was always here, and your physical alterations and new abilities - while perhaps not originally there - have been a part of you for a long, long time.

The world of Abraxas isn't completely foreign. Familiar territories remain, as well as the familiar faces of those with long lifespans. But a lot has changed in 800 years, too, especially where the Gods are concerned. Alongside the Old Gods of the Ancient Pantheon and the Cardinal Gods of the New Order, a third class of deities formed from you and your fellow Summoned: the Ecesis Gods of the Iterum Pantheon.
Politics, People, & Gods
Abraxas's political landscape remains complex, with continued tensions over land, worship, resources, and power. Nonetheless, since the Free Cities is no longer intent on destroying the Singularity, conflict over the ancient relic has lessened. All territories agree that the Godlands - and the Singularity - belong to the Gods themselves.
Beliefs and Gods
The active presence of the Summoned confirms the existence of the Gods. As a result, most Abraxans turn to the Summoned and other Gods for aid or protection. Extreme reverence exists in certain areas, especially on the Isle of the Lost and in parts of Solvunn. In other places, though, the Gods are merely acknowledged as a facet of life - a force that helps or hinders depending on temperament and should be respected, much like the sea. The Gods play a crucial role, sure, but so do the rain and stars. This is particularly true in the Feywilds, the Nether, and the Free Cities.

Small pockets of non-believers actively denounce the Gods. They claim the Summoned should be wiped from the world and the Singularity destroyed to prevent future invasions. Labeled dangerous heretics by Thorne and Solvunn, and "regressives" by the Free Cities - whose scientists and philosophers liken such thinking to be as foolish as declaring the sun unworthy or the earth to be flat - these people are shunned from society. In Solvunn, the consequences are more severe: heretics are exiled to the Barren, where they are subsumed by the desert, the Maw, or whichever Gods may punish them.

At the other end, some sects revere the Godlands so much that they believe feeding themselves to the relic will enhance Abraxas' good fortune for generations to come. Such cults are quite rare, but there are reports of mortals throwing themselves into the Singularity's crater and disintegrating as a gesture of their devotion to the divine.
International Relations
Due to the combined change in their priorities, Thorne and the Free Cities are less at odds. The Free Cities believes in protecting the Singularity; Thorne no longer seeks to control it. Nonetheless, mistrust flares on occasion.

While things are peaceful during these three months and have been for a few decades, Abraxas hasn't found a cure for war in the Gods. Conflict has broken out in the past and will again. Eyes are on the Nether as it grows in power, and who knows how long Thorne will be content with its losses? Will they convince the Velan Republic to reunite and turn against the Free Cities? For now, though, the territories have found their stride and appear more interested in progress than fighting.
Magic & The Singularity
Magic is relatively unchanged and is a vital part of Abraxan life. The small kingdom of Thorne continues to practice Academic Magic. Meanwhile, Wild Magic plays the same important role in the Velan Republic (formally Nott). Meanwhile, the Free Cities has developed New Magic further. The goal of decoupling magic from technology is less of a focus. Instead, researchers are eager to find new ways to fuse magic and innovation, including aspects of the Gods. Portable shrines, for example, are popular with traveling merchants.

High Magic no longer exists as a specific school of magic now that offerings, pacts, and requests to the Gods are a part of everyday life across Abraxas. Solvunn has returned to its roots, using the ancient Academic Magic practiced by the Lunae for standard tasks while turning to the Gods for greater blessings.

The Singularity has been relatively stable for the past two or three centuries. While occasional disturbances rumble, for the most part, the presence of the Summoned has strengthened it, alleviating its displeasure and ensuring that Abraxas - and possibly the universe itself - continues to exist. Indeed, academic writings from Thorne and the Free Cities across time suggest that the Singularity's devouring of the world has considerably slowed. It is now as much of a threat as the eventual collapse of the sun, something that is bound to occur but not for eons.

Of course, this could quickly change if the Summoned or any other Gods provoke the Singularity by rejecting its connection or denying its magic...so all should take care not to upset the nature of things.
Old World, New World
The map of Abraxas has undergone some notable shifts, although many names and places are the same.

Setting descriptions are HERE for your reference.

Mechapolis, the Witchwood, and the Barren/the Maw contain prompts related to the event itself. Information about those areas can be found under "Exploring the Land" in the section The World as the Divine (Month 1-2).


Month 1-2: Submersion
What do you last remember? Well, that depends. You might recall most things perfectly clearly. You might have new memories that don't feel new at all. Or, you might only remember the most recent year or two. Regardless, there is something missing: an important face, a handful of key events...maybe you don't remember having ever lived anywhere except Abraxas. You might find this unsettling, or you might accept it as just the way things are.

You've transcended those old memories, anyhow. You feel a little distant from the person you were centuries ago, and you most likely look different, too. Perhaps you've sprouted giant wings, become a formless void, or you're now a shapeshifter with no permanent appearance. You've gained a substantial amount of power and influence, the type that people of this world attribute to the Gods.

The first half is a more sandbox-like environment designed for scenarios that emphasize CR and personal character moments. Active conflict between the emergent reality and the world will not arise until the second half.

The World as the Divine
The mortals have bestowed you with a title and possibly a new alias. Do you know your mortal name anymore? Some of you might've taken on a new identity, or you might have held very tightly onto who you were. Regardless, your abilities have grown. Your new powers and appearance are as unique as your dominion, influenced by your interests, subconscious desires, or personal relationships.

While in your full God form, you'll move through the world unperceived. Only when you're sought by a mortal - followers, believers, cultists - can you consciously make your complete divine presence known. To be seen freely by all, you'll have to take on a less overwhelming shape to the mortal gaze. Those who have met the Old Gods or Cardinal Gods in the past finally understand why they seldom reveal their true selves, often arriving in hazy visions or speaking through animals.
Exploring the Land
The Witchwood
As the Summoned continued to ascend, their power began to coalesce, creating a new ecosystem never seen before. The dense woods, originally a temperate climate, warmed and grew into a thriving jungle. The air is humid and heavy with magic, the sky locked into an eternal sunset. Reds and oranges filter through the thick canopy. Birdcall and animal cries echo throughout the jungle. Trees and rocks seemingly move at night, meaning the Witchwood is impossible to map. Foolhardy souls who venture too deep are rarely seen again - unless divine intervention prevents a tragic fate from befalling them. Perhaps one of those intervening Gods is you?

The most dangerous beasts in the Witchwood are the demigod spawns. Creatures born from the Summoned, demigods are powerful enough to affect the world around them should they ever leave the magic-encased forest. See Impact & Consequences for more details on the demigods and how, as the Summoned, you can help maintain Abraxas' ecosystem.
Mechapolis
Heartwood Syndrome persisted in Fomalhaut long after the quarantined population died out. The port city stood as a monument to loss for nearly a century until about 200 years in when the Summoned gained notable influence as Gods. This resulted in a slow but steady acceptance of the Singularity's power as a positive force for potential advancement. New Magic boomed, leading to increased sophistication in technology and the refinement of automatons.

Originally designed to clear and guard Fomalhaut, they were eventually used to rebuild it. Fomalhaut became known as the City of Machines and was renamed Mechapolis. Although humans are barred from entering for safety, the automatons gather soil and air samples for study and perform fishing duties. The clockworks require routine maintenance and must return to a hub city or outpost for recalibration. Clockwork birds are used to communicate with Mechapolis. They can broadcast through the Free Cities's primitive "radio" towers.

You can enhance clockwork performance, boosting the towers or providing additional energy to the automatons. Scientists often have "rituals" when performing maintenance or experiments to earn the Gods' favor, hoping this will prevent their inventions from breaking down.
The Barren/The Badlands
Once contested territory between Thorne and the Free Cities, the Badlands was split into two by a large ravine shortly after Thorne retreated to Hayle. With neither side able to breach the gap, Solvunn naturally laid claim to the western half while the Free Cities retained its eastern half. On the eastern side, the chasm swallowed several well-known bandit camps and the presence of a new entity further drove them away. Bandits now occupy the mountains northeast of Aquila. Due to the entity's threat, the Free Cities increased its military presence in the Badlands to keep careless or foolish travelers from straying too far.

Meanwhile, Solvunn has named its portion of the wasteland the Barren and sought the Gods' assistance to form an enchanted forest. Those who enter are lost forever. Meant for more than just protection, the forest and the Barren serve as a place of exile. Heretics are taken into the woods and left to wander towards the Barren's harsh desert. There, they will face the elements, be devoured by the waiting Maw...or encounter a God.

As a God, you can lead the exiles to their salvation or doom, but choose carefully: the Maw is hungry and must be fed. These exiles want you dead. They don't care for you, and should their lack of faith spread, they might revive attempts to destroy the Singularity - and with it, your home. Is it so wrong to leave them to their fate? On the other hand, saving them might convert them by demonstrating your kindness.
The Maw
The Maw lurks beneath the chasm dividing the Badlands. Named for its gaping jaws, the Maw waits at the widest part of a jagged canyon, mouth open and salivating in the desert heat. Rows and rows of teeth as tall as a man spiral downward into a bloodshot throat. When sated, it retreats deep into the gully, barely visible aside from the shine of a tooth. When hungry, it draws closer to the surface. Hot and heavy winds often carry the putrid scent of its half-digested meals.

Solvunn is not the only territory that uses the Maw. The Free Cities will occasionally march criminals and bandits in that direction, as well, tossing them into the gaping mouth, although this method of execution is much rarer. Desperate exiles from Solvunn will try to cross the chasm despite the danger. None ever make it - at least, not without divine intervention.
Horizon, "Death," and Dormancy
Your domain in the Horizon is no longer constrained by size. How it's changed depends on you. The more detached from your mortality, the more likely it'll have surrealist elements: bizarre statues, physics-defying architecture, odd visual or psychological effects. The Horizon feels like home to all Gods, although you ought to take care not to heed its call beyond reason. Shutting yourself off from the physical world can result in unintended consequences...but completely refusing to enter the Horizon will do the same.

Additionally, Gods are beyond true death, but that doesn't mean you can act with impunity. Engaging in an exhaustive battle with other Gods can weaken you into dormancy. In this state, you will enter an ethereal void inside the Singularity. As you heal, you'll slowly be able to return to your Horizon domain and then the physical world once more. Depending on the extent of the damage, this process could take anywhere from months to decades. For instance, losing your head could take a few months, total dismemberment might take a year, and being vaporized into atoms can take a few decades.

Mortals cannot achieve this level of damage, even if they seemingly "succeed" in striking true. Only a God can weaken another God into dormancy. If a mortal removes your head, you can merely pick it up and put it back on.

Impact & Consequences
In the early years of your ascension, you might've wondered why the existing Gods seemingly intervened so little. Why did they not demonstrate their powers more blatantly over the thousands of years? Is it apathy? A desire to watch rather than act? As you come into your abilities, you realize that the Singularity and the universe are significantly more delicate than you thought. You begin to understand why the Gods have behaved the way they do.

Of course, whether you care to keep the world (and yourself) in balance is another story, but to be sure, some of the other Gods and the Summoned do - and you may have to defend your choices.

The equilibrium mechanic is described in OOC terms HERE. The Singularity and a character's ascension will not inherently sway them one way or the other. Any temptations will result from individual personality and development.

Instability Effects
To maintain the universe's equilibrium, you need to be cautious of when and how you interfere when using your status to alter the state of the world. Conversely, you'll also need to take care not to withdraw entirely. Several Gods have undergone periods of instability, though others haven't. Which category you fall under is up to you. It depends on who you are, your experiences, and your desires.
◎ Should you refuse to ACKNOWLEDGE your Godhood or enter the Horizon, you'll find yourself losing time. You may forget how you got from one place to another, or names you knew yesterday slip your mind. Lapses in memory or time can be temporary or permanent, but one thing they are is certainly confusing. With magic building inside you and nowhere for it to go, your power will begin to spill over, causing the Singularity to exhibit bursts of power that spawn demigods in the Witchwood.

◎ Should you give into the temptation to OVERINDULGE your Godhood or retreat to the Horizon for excessive periods, you'll lose more of yourself and your history. You may make decisions that feel unlike you, forget larger chunks of old memories, or struggle to distinguish what's real. Unrestrained use of magic will cause you to absorb yet more power, causing the Singularity to lose power in brief spurts, which can spawn demigods in the Witchwood.
These effects can be halted or even reversed in some cases. You might need someone's help to bring you back or convince you there's another way, or maybe you're the one seeking others out to assist. What you do soon understand is that your ability to manage your powers and stabilize your connection to the Horizon directly affects the Singularity and Abraxas...something that may have been true the moment you were summoned.
Demigod Spawns
Under the red haze of the Witchwood, monstrous creatures known as demigods or spawns emerge from crimson waterfalls and claw their out through the mossy soil. Born out of instabilities caused by careless actions from all Gods, they're usually contained to the Witchwood. For the most part, the older Gods - and the Summoned, if they choose - keep the demigods from leaving. However, now and again, one or two might escape, damaging towns, destroying villages, or causing ecological destruction in ways that are similar to natural disasters.

Demigods are not sentient. How they look can vary, but their appearances are often corrupted and disturbing: twisted animals, amorphous blobs, or alien-like parasites. They may resemble a monster you recognize from home.

Defeating one is possible but a challenge even for the Gods. Most crucially, you cannot kill your own spawn. Another God must deliver the killing blow, so working together is imperative. Should too many demigod spawns be allowed to invade the Witchwood, they will overwhelm and disrupt the Singularity further. Culling them is the only way to maintain stability.

You can submit demigod spawns you create to the WORLDBUILDING section if you want. Similar to using character powers, just keep the scale of destruction at a reasonable level.

Hearing Echoes
Echoes are a form of prayer that resonates through your connection with the Singularity. Solvunn has dedicated a monument to where the "First Echo" was heard, though the accuracy of this is debatable. Like the Network, you can hear an Echo regardless of where you are and can shut them out with concentration. However, your ties to Godhood may compel you to listen every so often. Mortals can entreat you through more formal methods (rituals, offerings, seasonal ceremonies) or in a moment of duress or desperation. They may seek you specifically or call to any God who will listen.

You can answer or ignore these cries for help as you like, but your choices carry consequences. Answer too many too eagerly, and your increased interference in mortal lives can upset the world's equilibrium - and the Singularity. Ignore your impact on the world, and your refusal to accept your ascension will equally destabilize the land as prayers go unheard.

Interacting with Other Gods
The Old Gods and the Cardinal Gods are an equal part of this world. For the most part, you coexist peacefully, though personal pacts and tensions can play a role. Each of you is aware of the impact of your actions on the Singularity: extreme displays of power are reserved for substantial transgressions, considering the price it carries.

Further, the older Gods have also walked the earth for centuries before you came. To them, you're still young, and rising against one of them won't end well for you. Nonetheless, many older Gods are more interested in giving advice or guiding you, ensuring the health of the Singularity and the universe so as not to doom all of you - Gods and mortals alike - to the void.

You can REQUEST AN INTERACTION with a God. Interactions will be brief but informative.

You will not be able to request a specific God. For logistical reasons, we have curated the list of Gods available ahead of time. However, we'll do our best to pick one from the pool that suits the purpose of your request.


Month 3: Awakening
Over the past 2 months, you've existed in the emergent reality without question. As you enter the third month, however, everything you've known over the past many centuries begins to shift. You might decide to investigate further, wondering if there's more out there that you aren't seeing. Alternatively, you might choose to ignore it, believing that your awakening is damaging the world and your life.
Catalysts
A catalyst can occur at any time through any circumstance. Do you see a familiar face you've forgotten in the eyes of a stranger? Do you recall a moment in your past while watching the mortals? Has a friend approached you specifically to try and remind you of the things you've forgotten?

With each memory returned you'll gain another piece of yourself. Depending on how much you've lost and how hard you'll cling to this reality, the effect may be clarifying or it might cause you distress and confusion. You might begin to encounter temporal cracks: buildings or areas that normally don't exist will flicker in and out of existence, or your reflection will briefly show an image of you from before your transformations took hold.

If you allow yourself to doubt your abilities or divinity, you might have trouble controlling your powers. If you've made alterations to your Horizon domain, it might start to revert to its original design.

These cracks are difficult to ignore, but if you bury your head, you can make them disappear - briefly, at least.
Shattered Skies
The effects go beyond the individual. As more of you and your fellow Gods reawaken, the sky also begins to form cracks that spread like broken glass. Through the fractures, you glimpse flashes of lightning and a swirling fog. The fissures only grow larger.

Soon, you realize you can see the Singularity itself, reflected upside-down in the crater. Disconcerting though it is, it may serve as proof that something is very wrong. Of course, you can also refuse to acknowledge this disturbance, closing your eyes to the crumbling sky. Doing so will let you remain unaware to the very end, but your friends who are seeking the truth might find your denial distressing.

The sky won't hold, though. Eventually, it does shatter completely - and you awaken abruptly, your body and others scattered several feet away from the Singularity's crater as if you were physically thrown out. The fog begins to dissipate. The lightning has stopped, the unrelenting storms fading across Abraxas. Whatever you went through, it seems to have done exactly what the territories hoped: stabilize the Singularity.

Characters will be returned home afterward. They will be thanked for their assistance regardless of if they cooperated.

Resistors will not face any consequences, as long as they don't cause excessive trouble upon their return. Officials will issue an apology for the heavy-handed action, stating that they saw no other way to keep the world safe. With the portals and weather returning to normal, it does seem to have worked...even if characters may not find the method agreeable.



respiting: (o20)

[personal profile] respiting 2024-05-30 04:26 am (UTC)(link)
[ Rocket nods now in a manner that says, 'atta girl' without explicitly saying so. He's glad for her commitment, glad for her determination. It's one of those things that he's always admired about her, and would've hated to see snuffed out 'cause of something as dumb as this.

Mistakes are always gonna happen; that's just a part of living an existence so different from the mortals that call upon them.

He plucks out a small handful of the pieces floating in air with purpose, already seeing the way they might come together. ]


We'll study each of these things, put 'em together in a way you want them to. And we'll do it right this time.
cointosser: ([212 - S3])

[personal profile] cointosser 2024-05-30 06:17 am (UTC)(link)
[If his memories truly lingered long enough on when he was not this, he would agree that he was made to be a god. Not because he cares about lording himself above the mortals (though, admittedly, it's quite fun), but because he can do what he wants, when he wishes, which is mostly just showing off for their attentions.

He always did that. Didn't he? Like a peacock showing its feathers off... which he's also done. He can be whatever bird he wants, after all.

Jaskier leans across the space between them to kiss her, sauntering off his throne knowing the mortals are watching them. At least the ones not digging into the feast. Which he can hardly blame them for; they produce the sweetest fruits, the freshest vegetables. And Jaskier attracts the game.]


Do I still surprise you, after all this time?

[He's not sure it's possible. But he still does kneel at her feet, and kisses them... gentle presses of his lips to her feet, that travel up her calves.]
thedevilwhorose: » f ApocWorld (I have my reasons)

um. look. I. hrrrrg. yeah. congrats this is the longest tag I've ever written????? erm.

[personal profile] thedevilwhorose 2024-05-30 06:47 am (UTC)(link)
Oh, yes, Hell's his, thanks for the reminder, he definitely brought that down onto himself, yeah. The realm he's always first known for, the realm he refuses to ever call home, the realm that's just as much as a shackle to connect him to the Cage.

The realm he likely could have shaped into being more but he just wanted every being to feel the immeasurable darkness that he did, so why not like he twisted humans, twist a portion of the planet, the gem that he loved just to prove he could. If his Father was going to let oblivion swallow him up, then he'd make sure that black hole was permanently going to remain affixed. Lock him up and throw away the key, but Hell wasn't going anywhere, Father, you can't JUST FORGET ABOUT HIM.

"I would've preferred it!"

Dying. He knows that answer clearly, remembers Wanda asking him so long ago, but the where and when escapes him like mist.

Remembers making the foolish decision to try to lock up the Darkness again and all he can further remember from that scene is the way she looked when she realized they (who? who was there other than him?) weren't going kill her. Remembers his own feelings at thinking he was wanted, and loved, and valuable again to their Father that it mattered more than knowing exactly what she was feeling. The desperation and hopelessness and more than anything in existence not wanting to be locked up again and yet he pressed on, anyway.

He doesn't remember how that ended, at all, and he finds himself grasping for a hole in his memories because surely he changed his mind, surely he reached out to her, surely he gave her what she wanted instead of following orders, surely he wasn't like Michael.

"Do you know how long I waited for you to come back?! To pull me out? To see me? To do anything!? Until I realized you weren't coming, none of you."

It's the most raw emotion that's slipped through Lucifer's cool and calculated exterior since he was returned to this form. Figures it would be family.

It was always family. This family. The one he wasn't allowed to choose.

As Michael goes for his bite, teeth break past the automatic uncontrolled flair of a shield. A translucent mantle of a chimera overlaying Lucifer. An old gift from the Singularity from hundreds of years ago, now bolstered. It never seems to particularly sync with a creature that he had a good time with, though he doesn't remember how he acquired this mode.

He just dislikes it because it furthers his appearance more into ravenous beast, not that that has ever been a problem to his siblings. Then again, he thought they would love him for whatever he became, regardless what side he stood on.

I hate what you did. I've never hated you.
(It's somewhere, lodged in the sea of his colored thoughts, unmoored, fragmented.)

The shield snaps between his flesh and Michael's teeth, dislodging him, temporarily granting him some distance from Michael even as blood and grace continues to spill, and maybe for once that will be enough to impact the Horizon, make this plane more. Just one other place to share in Lucifer's pain and a feud of brothers.

All his limbs hook into the sand, wings drawn back, back arched, so very feline-like instead of bird, instead of snake. His eyes are sunken and dripping blood and that might be the chimera mantle fading or it might just be him.

Nothing under pulls a belated snarl from Lucifer, scaled tail lashing behind him, turning to fur, feathers, than back to scale. Of course he never came to terms with his chimera shield, why he absorbed that imagery, it was too real much like the myriapod and any other creature in the last eight-hundred years that he shared a symbiosis with.

When Michael closes the distance again and bears down with terrifying power--the barest hope not daring to voice itself in Lucifer's mind because Michael could kill him but Michael hasn't--it cements everything Lucifer has been feeling over lifetimes and universes and maybe other versions of himself.

You want imagination, Michael?

Here's his power from this imaginative reality.

Hilarious that one of Lucifer's last acts in this very fake reality is likely spawning another demigod into this realm. He digs four of the six claws into sand and invokes the blessing of this iteration of himself. The Herald of New Beginnings. Laughable how that title never felt like a slap to his maw until now.

Plantlife springs from sand, though more blighted than it ever has been in the past, and it slams thick thorny vines into Michael to push him away and wreathe him with flora, closing off his limbs and his ability to speak, filling jaws with greenery, continuously binding against Michael's volcanic brand of wrath. Lucifer wonders just what he's lost for the excessive use, but it doesn't matter anymore, does it?

Lucifer slithers away freed once more and everything is too much, held back for so long. It's what he always does, after all. Hold back until it bursts. Only, long ago, Michael wasn't there when it all burst in the Cage, and he was never going to let it happen when they BOTH held the space.

Lucifer wouldn't let himself be that weak again because he knew it would amount to nothing.

"Of course I broke it all apart!" Lucifer roars, like this is the most obvious thing in the world. He was in pain, he made everyone feel it, and wouldn't stop when he rose free. I didn't so much as stand up again as much as I burned everything down to meet my level, he had told River.

He just thought maybe the solution would have been relief not eternal suffering. Not abandonment. He'd rid himself of the Mark after all, left himself a bleeding wound, didn't know what healing was even supposed to look like but it wasn't happening on its own like it should, and there was no one, no one left at his side. He made everyone else bleed, but they were healing just fine, weren't they? They had help, didn't they?

Or so he thought. So why was he the one alone?

Despite his current ability to hold Michael in place, Lucifer can't stay still. Restless, back and forth, not pacing, just... movement. Mercurial.

"Caging me wasn't a solution! He could've ripped my power from me and dumped me on the planet. Would I have resented it? Would I have found a way to try and destroy everything? Of course."

But once upon a time he was powerless in a gilded cage of the once-Thorne and he had to struggle to survive, to make weapons out of those around him, to find a footing because the queen was far too much like him in her mindset and he was going to die when he should have been eternal.

There was a goddamn multiverse out there, apparently. His Father drafted worlds because he couldn't stand to look at them. Lucifer hadn't only been discarded, he'd been discarded like a bad book that was maybe picked up again from time to time.

A multiverse Lucifer could've been tossed to and yet he was thrown to the Cage to be used later, for an Apocalypse that Lucifer thought he could craft as something of his own so that once again all of his millennia of pain bottled-up could be felt by All. He didn't need the Mark anymore. He just was without it.

More than he already was and then some. Burning, vitriolic rage, unhealthy for a being that was naturally so glacial.

"He didn't. He made you do his dirty work. He used you and put me away like a footnote. Why would I ever see value in humanity when I didn't have to?! I had to claw and scrape and pull people around me like a cloak in Thorne because I didn't have enough sliver of power to protect myself. And they all saw the monster that you couldn't stand." It's so much worse when he uses That Word himself. Rolling with smoke now off his limbs, backed by light from his spilled grace. Unnaturally putting off steam as ice crystals collect under his claws. "All of them. All of them. And here, in this place, this reality, they're all still here. They all stayed. Just like I thought you had."

Like a fool. Because he wouldn't press. He wouldn't break. The destructive black hole that was Lucifer wanted to hold to what seemed barely stable and maybe had he done this usual sooner maybe Michael would've still been his brother and not everyone's brother and maybe maybe maybe--

"But no. It's a lie. I should've known. Should've seen it sooner. This could have been perfect but you--"

For a moment, his exhaustion cracks through. For a moment his connection to the Horizon even dips and he sees the sky continuing to shatter. When he jolts back for two seconds it's Nick standing there before his true form reorients.

His vines have loosened in the blip and he pumps more of his god power into them, striking unnatural colors of his space in the Nether that he's spent centuries cultivating through Michael, holding, holding, holding. If he lets go it's all, truly, over.

"All any of you wanted was for me to be someone that I couldn't go back to, even if I tried, even if I wanted," he whispers. He looks to Michael, his desperation flagged, the exhaustion winning. "What? You want to hear that I was wrong? I wasn't. I'm still not."

His point that never mattered did matter, to him.

It always mattered.

It would continue to still matter because no matter what anyone wants, it shaped him into the being he is now. It corroded the core of his being to be flecked with darkness, impure despite the radiant beacon of archangel that he'd always be. Whoever he was before would never exist again. If he did, that would be the greatest lie ever told.

"Humanity is flawed. I've corrupted souls and proven that. I've corrupted minds and proven that."

Lucifer has unwound the minds of hundred of humans in the last centuries. He took them apart and rarely put them back together--that was the 'job' of others. It left him with more fun to break them all over again.

"You want to know what I was wrong about? Thinking that we weren't also flawed." That their Father, their baseline, wasn't flawed.

His hold on Michael is waning and he staggers under the weight of it, and yeah, he can sense it now, a demigod awakening in the Witchwood. Strong and wild and reckless. The sky furthering to crack is likely his own damn fault; he hopes the Singularity won't hold it against him.

His form trembles, his mind in two different places, clearing in a moment.

"Yeah, I wanted to manipulate the Summoned into being my defense buffer. Throw themselves between me and danger. And you know what? It worked. Too damn well! Because guess what? When you're paranoid for your life at every moment and have no secured channel not even trusting the Horizon, and you have to buckle down and trust the people around you? Apparently that's how you make friends. Especially when time and time again they all see the evil in the dark but somehow despite how stupid it is they still put impossible amounts of trust in me."

He isn't going to bother to fight that anymore. What's the point when this reality, for however it's built, however it existed, it existed. He understands how he, himself, got here, to this point. He has to believe the others just the same.

He has to understand how Michael came to be this way, until family and Lucifer's own betrayal spiked awareness through him.

How Awful. How devastating. He wonders if Michael will end up spiting him for that reminder alone.

Some of his vines begin to flake away like ash. The others freeze with ice, easy to crack out of.

Lucifer's out of time.

"I was so. Tired. Of being alone. Do you think I wanted that? Really?"

And yet they could never, would never, talk in the Cage, because--

"Why would I ever have adapt for you? For them? For Him? You all wanted the Light I didn't have anymore! Why are you so surprised I've chosen these others when they looked at the horror I am and accepted it?! All I wanted was acceptance and you would never give me that. I didn't even need you to stand with me I just needed you to see me, not a monster, not a freak."

He's backing away now, the last of his god blessing falling away, fear taking hold at Michael's freedom restored, that tiny speck of hope long gone. His only remaining defense if Michael resumes attacking is a crackling explosion of paralyzing lightning shielding up around Lucifer with a word of Ancient Thornean. Something never used, but kept on his person all the same, the enchantment metallic, shaped like a feather, tucked deep within a wing. His crowning Abraxan spell accomplishment.

Mortal magic.

"No one ever let me put it back together!!" His desperation, now. Like the Darkness, remembered. "I made up conversations in the dead space around me if anyone came back." Until I realized you weren't coming, none of you. "And why would I ever try after. Had to still follow Dad's story, didn't you? His orders. Raphael followed along in your shadow. Gabriel ran again and again and again."

And just when Lucifer wondered at possibility, Gabriel ran again, didn't he? Maybe it wasn't by choice, but Lucifer would be hard-pressed to think otherwise.

Maybe for once Lucifer should take a page from him and run, too, but he's pulling up his remaining strength like a shield not a weapon because at some point in Abraxas he changed his focus to protection not offense and he's scared, again, of Michael, but he won't run in spite of that desperation. But that defense is tissue paper at best. "I don't want to be alone anymore. And if you don't want to be a part of that, I--" There's a flare of molten red through his grace. Of Hell. Lucifer jerks his attention from Michael. He can't say it. He can't handle knowing the truth if Michael is finally, finally done with his little brother.

Maybe he'll run, after all.
Edited (I literally only fixed the god title ) 2024-05-30 19:29 (UTC)
thearchangel: (Archangel | ... *breathe* ...)

[personal profile] thearchangel 2024-05-30 07:15 am (UTC)(link)
He reigns it in. Pulls it all back. Composure slides into his frame as easily as her hand rests on his shoulder. Feathers flicker between white and grey and black, mottled, solid. Smoking. His head scans the room, everything firmly, safely covered. No one falls to the pressure, though they flinch.

That's the part he hates, sometimes. The people they're meant to protect, afraid. It's necessary, argues the other part of him. They have to, or else nothing gets done.

His gaze turns back to the wreck of a man. I doubt he's forgiven you - no, he sure hasn't. It might not actually have hurt Shepard, but it's the principle of the damn thing, isn't it? He folds his arms, not moving. As unflappable as any statue. Though his mandibles flare off his jaw, just for more effect. More teeth.

Then she's done here. The air smells of woodsmoke and burned flesh. His only acknowledgement is to nod. They're done. He's ready to put this office behind him. Behind both of them. Leave behind the odd stab of fear he could be losing her again.

Though what that means, he's not quite sure.
krazed: (cornballer(60))

[personal profile] krazed 2024-05-30 02:01 pm (UTC)(link)
Besides the whole worship shtick not a whole lot. Making my dividends in playing "be careful what you wish for," with the locals.

[ Which is to say that Harley's not particularly fond of her given title or the fact that people fawn over her. She likes a good bit of attention, but only when it's deserved, and this feels less than that. Something about it never sat right with her which is why she freelanced as a merc when she had free time on her hands.]

Your turn.
krazed: (shithouse(22))

[personal profile] krazed 2024-05-30 02:07 pm (UTC)(link)
Repetitive was an understatement. Harley didn't like the whole rigamarole of being omnipotent. It was too much pressure being a guiding force for people when she could barely guide herself half the time. She manages fine, but at the end of the day, she misses the simplicity of what used to be considered normal for her.

Normal being a less than apt word choice, of course.

"If that's the case it's time for you to have a soak and read a dirty book." Better than constantly being at the beck and call of followers who might have good intentions but didn't value them so much as put their problems on their plate. "Well, I like to add a little zhuzh with some florals and aromatherapy. Does wonders for the nasal canal. Mix in a little oil and you'll come out smoother than a baby's backside."

The books though, that's a little harder to come by. She shrugs. "Whatever books tickle your fancy but the nastier they are, the better. A dirty book'll make you feel like a woman again and not so much the sparkling being of light that you so clearly are."
iustise: (95)

[personal profile] iustise 2024-05-30 02:10 pm (UTC)(link)
[John can’t help but laugh at that. Trouble? Who, him?

Honestly, he does have his moments, so it isn’t entirely the worst idea to check in on him. Though most of the time the trouble he finds himself in is of another person’s devices and John himself has the misfortune of getting himself involved…

He gives her a look as if to say that he has never done anything wrong in his life before tossing her a wink.]


Well, here you find me, perfectly at peace, although I suppose that the day is still young.
Edited (phone tags are hard for html) 2024-05-30 14:11 (UTC)
spiritread: (014)

[personal profile] spiritread 2024-05-30 03:48 pm (UTC)(link)
One of us needs to make sense.

[ She teases lightly, nudging a shoulder against his. ]

That's the thing, right? How is something not real just because you can't see it? We don't see things halfway across the rworld but we'll call that real. The world is so much bigger than what we see right in front of us. And everyone has their own problems.
judgmentbolts: (43)

[personal profile] judgmentbolts 2024-05-30 05:45 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Cid shakes his head. Even now, he'd rather Viktor not blame himself — if anything, Cid owes him a debt. Memories unspool themselves in his mind as if they've all been held by this singular thread — memories of Midadol, of the Hideaway, of being human.

It's when Viktor goes on that Cid's attention finally seems to snap back to the present, levin recoiling all at once like a light being snuffed out. ]


Not remembering was the problem. [ Cid responds, clearly incensed by the suggestion. ] You really can't see that?
princessvegas: (113. this is real love)

[personal profile] princessvegas 2024-05-30 06:14 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The little traces of residual venom still in the tips of her fang are sweet in an acrid sort of way, as if someone has candied bitter, dangerous poison instead of fruit. Julie can no longer taste it herself, too accustomed to it dripping on her tongue and down her throat. A full dose is strong enough to immobilize most of the other gods for a bit, though not enough to kill them, but even small amounts can burn and sting; Geralt is the only person she is willing to kiss without a drink first to wash the lingering drops away.

Her fingers run through his hair and slide under his collar, digging into his back as she cradles his face in her other hand. One leg draws up at his side, her knee pressed to his hip. Molten heat settles low in her stomach, spreads through her chest when she pulls him closer. His touch finds her slick and flushed — she breaks from his lips with a hitch in her breath, neck arching before her head settles on the grass, eyes closed and rosiness blossoming across her cheeks as the rise and fall her chest quickens. ]
ancunin: (pic#16740596)

[personal profile] ancunin 2024-05-30 06:31 pm (UTC)(link)
I haven't -

[ Needed to. For sport, of course. He drinks his blood from gold and crystal goblets, blood spiced with wine and not the other way around, but it's for pleasure, not sustenance. This - he hasn't felt this pain in centuries, and it contorts his features into something more animalistic, all of his teeth turning sharp as he clutches himself and a pair of white, leathery wings erupt from his back to encircle him protectively.

He manages to look up at her, briefly, the delicate bones exposed from beneath flesh in places, her concern an afterthought. His instincts and senses register her as undead, unsuitable for feeding. In the back of his struggling, harried mind, he knows this means he won't attack her like a rabid animal, but those thoughts are so far buried beneath the red haze and the regret that seems to hold him like a vice. ]


I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...
funbreaker: (pic#16108671)

[personal profile] funbreaker 2024-05-30 07:02 pm (UTC)(link)
Fair point.

[ Thancred tips his head in acknowledgment, but he also suspects that Geralt did what needed to be done in the moment. Not everyone has been quite so willing to accept reality, or to wake up from the odd dream they've been living in for centuries. To him, it feels like everything is finally clear after existing in a haze for far too long.

It feels like coming up for air.

He frowns at the idea that they might go back, but if all of this was simply a mass hallucination, then that's entirely possible. Especially with the world coming apart at the seams.

He gazes up toward the sky again, watching the cracks that splinter across it. ]


Can we even trust those reactions? Or has the Singularity merely showed us a possible future and tried to weave it as indelible fact?
assembles: beard (how u doin)

[personal profile] assembles 2024-05-30 07:55 pm (UTC)(link)
[ They don't talk about it. That alone speaks volumes, doesn't it? Steve knows what it's like, although Bucky's "death" isn't something that he can just pretend didn't happen, not when it led to a string of events that haunt Bucky each and every day. ]

... I've been there.

[ When he remembered Bucky, he had to remember what happened to Bucky too. He'd had that wound ripped wide open. Maybe if Bucky was here and Steve could have seen how happy and at ease he was without those memories, he might have hesitated.

But no. Because the anger at Buck getting his head messed with all over again would have overridden everything else. ]


My closest friend, he once told me he'd follow me all the way to Hell. And he did. He paid a heavy price for it, but I know he wouldn't want to forget all that either.

[ Not when it was already taken from him once.

Steve's hand, made of unyielding stone, grips tighter around Garrus' shoulder. It might have been hard enough to bruise, if they weren't both more than people right now. ]


I know it's hard. But she'll thank you for it after. She'll understand.

[ These days, he thinks he knows Shepard well enough that he can say that without any doubt. ]
wiedzminka: (fifty-two.)

[personal profile] wiedzminka 2024-05-30 11:47 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It is a comfort. Ciri's missed her -- missed many of her friends and people close to her, and only now, with all the days of silence adding up and only her shame for company, does she realize how much. She let herself become entrenched single-mindedly into one thing, and forgot to tend to her other relationships as they began to fall away. Time begins to lose meaning even after just a couple hundred years.

She can't let that keep happening.

Ciri takes Aloy's hand in her lap, lacing their fingers together and squeezing as she leans closer, tipping her face into Aloy's shoulder. Her eyes close. She breathes in. ]


No point lingering in it, is there?

I'd rather focus on now.
wiedzminka: (two hundred & forty.)

[personal profile] wiedzminka 2024-05-31 12:29 am (UTC)(link)
[ She considers this for some time, holding very still and focused on the feeling of his callused palm against her cheek, the warmth of his hand. After another few moments that seem to stretch out too long, Ciri takes it with both of her own, mismatched fingers gripping his.

Come back to us. The voice from long ago. Longer than it should be.

When she stares at her own hands, the feeling intensifies: this isn't right. ]


...how did we get here, Geralt?

When we decided to stay in Abraxas, to be together here-- I can't... remember.

[ They're on a cliff. The ocean surges below. It reflects the cracks in the sky above, and she feels dizzy. ]

Geralt, where did I come from?

[ With Sidus (...Claude?), she'd recalled slivers of a dream that made her feel so uncomfortable. A past that couldn't be hers, a royal title that doesn't feel right, a mother and a father who aren't Yennefer and Geralt. She'd rejected it viscerally then. But it hadn't come from nowhere. ]
cryptsleeper: <user name="malagraphic"> (I'll consider it)

[personal profile] cryptsleeper 2024-05-31 01:13 am (UTC)(link)
I hope that a version of the future is what it is. Besides the clear fact that only some of us are well equipped to handle a long life span, [Alucard's never quite shied away from being blunt in that opinion-, I can't say I'm happy with the outcomes for the Luna-folk. Or Ikorr, for that matter, even if I've appreciated visiting them over time.

[Alucard's gaze follows Thancred's, settling on the splinter. How it cracks and seems to sway in the sky, like some instrument string being plucked every so often.]

I am also not looking forward to the aftermath. Do you think you'll be okay?
mathmetism: (drewvack-00046)

[personal profile] mathmetism 2024-05-31 02:17 am (UTC)(link)
[ jerry's only just begun to stitch, but it'll turn out pretty nifty, he thinks. he gets the tentacle charades, but this is a relatively new practice to him (new in the last... 3-4 centuries.) ]

Not through this medium, buuut...

[ he frowns up at the delightfully fluffy fat clouds in the open and endless sky, pondering on what angst fueled shenanigans he might be able to pass off as art. ]

One time I made a voodoo doll out of my dad's $1,000 silk tie and punted it into a mosh pit of drag queens and geriatric men in raindow g-strings during a pride festival. [ flamboyant dicks and old man balls be upon ye, foul sperm donor. ] Also, I stole a butt-load of money and skipped town forever, I'd call that performance art. Hella cathartic.
aquaveiled: (himeka-566)

[personal profile] aquaveiled 2024-05-31 02:41 am (UTC)(link)
[ She feels truly calm for the first time in--gods, how long has it? Surely not more than a few hours but it felt like ages. (Or maybe it was days? It's hard to tell when all she could think about was hunger and pain.)

But slowly, gradually, she feels more and more like herself. The color fully returns to her skin and scales, the aches in her limbs lessen to nothing, and the world Himeka sees before her is not that in terms of the brightest, most filling bit of life...but the dark hues and blues of the deep. When she turns her head towards the portal, she sees the desert.

Alucard.

Himeka, still shrinking to something closer to her normal size, swims over to it. ]


Alucard?
kobes: ([star] por quoi)

[personal profile] kobes 2024-05-31 03:10 am (UTC)(link)
[She's doing it to get a rise out of him. Koby knows that. He knows. He knows he should turn and walk away and not engage any further -- because he can, because Clarisse isn't keeping him here. He's free to leave. He should leave.

He doesn't leave.

There's a snap of light, a crackle, a whiff of burning ozone as Koby brings up an arm to shove Clarisse's arm aside, as the swirling mass of cosmic energy inside him has the air itself sparking.
] Don't touch me. [It comes out sharp, sizzling like a dying star.]
kobes: ([star] hopeful)

[personal profile] kobes 2024-05-31 03:14 am (UTC)(link)
[Performance is something different -- though perhaps this too is a performance, two gods petitioning a group (pack? herd? what's the correct terminology) of wyverns for their indulgence. Koby is all seriousness, though, offering both hands for the smallest creature to sniff at, it's breath scented like burning coals.]

I suppose you're right. You usually are, I've found. [There's a warm pulse of starlight, a half-smile.] When have I ever wanted to do things the easy way, Hilda? If it's not challenging and constantly unpredictable, I'm just not interested.

[The wyvern pulls back, streaks of silvery stardust left on it's scaly nose from Koby's palms.] If we weren't friends, I think I'd be waaaay more bored than I am.
areou: (pic#10958492)

[personal profile] areou 2024-05-31 04:05 am (UTC)(link)
( that's more like it, she thinks, her mouth cracking open, revealing a smile with far too many teeth. scales shimmer where koby makes contact with her arm, his energy sparking off her skin.

the point of contact is his first mistake, though. she latches onto his wrist and twists him around, shoving him forward into the rough bark of the tree, her claws sharp against the base of his neck. she leans in, practically hissing against his ear.
)

Or what?
aquaveiled: (himeka-503)

[personal profile] aquaveiled 2024-05-31 05:01 am (UTC)(link)
"Not even the tiniest boon, I promise." She holds up a hand as if swearing an oath of honor, only to be shushed by Zagreus as the crowd simultaneously quiets down.

Anticipation teems like electricity through mortals and gods alike. Sure, the speech is a little much but Azem can hardly fault anyone for wanting a little to-do for the effort they made to put on this competition. But as the results are read aloud, Azem tenses.

Her eyes widen.

"Alisaie--oh wait, that's me!"

In the true spirit of a winner, she throws her arms up in the air and lets out a happy cheer. For all of them, of course! There is a round of applause and she simultaneously gives her companions a hearty slap on their backs.

"Come now, we all placed! And entirely on our own merits."
thedevilwhorose: (there goes my mind)

[personal profile] thedevilwhorose 2024-05-31 07:03 am (UTC)(link)
Lucifer tilts his head, robotic, alien. His movements absolutely still. Familiar to some degree. This has pulled through on occasion in the past, when Lucifer was the most sunk into archangel, the muscle-memory a cloak. His eyes are watching Istredd's every moment, backed by an unnatural light, unblinking.

"I'm not telling you this to dissuade you, I'm telling you for your own awareness." The layer of solid frost over Lucifer has already begun to climb through his being--finally it no longer chills him to the bone, finally he's comfortable back in that ice--the same frost that will follow them for the next eight-hundred years, but with it comes a certainty, solid and methodical thinking to Lucifer's usual snappish-quick chaos. Careful, calm.

There's a balance that's he's been lacking their entire time in Abraxas. Dust settled, Lucifer easing back into himself.

He'll have to eventually deal with the very emotions Istredd is claiming are his problem, his emotions for various people once they creep back in as a reminder that they're still present, he hasn't lost them, they're just a step back. But accessible.

Just something other.

"Do what you want," he tells Istredd. "If you freeze alongside me, so be it. Maybe it'll do you some good."
cryptsleeper: <user name="malagraphic"> (thinkin for a sec here)

[personal profile] cryptsleeper 2024-05-31 11:29 am (UTC)(link)
[The wolf trots over to the portal, causually changing back into Alucard. God or not, he seems to have a little bit of a sunburn from loafing out in direct light.

When he sees Himeka it is clear that this worked. There's audible relief in his voice.]


I'm here. You look leagues better.
flagrates: (clive-10647)

can do!

[personal profile] flagrates 2024-05-31 02:28 pm (UTC)(link)
Right.

[ He nods, reaching up to clasp Cid's wrist briefly, stepping back and pulling up his hood. He turns to leave and hesitates, looking back at Cid over his shoulder. ]

Thank you, Cid.

[ He's saved him again. Clive doesn't wait for an answer — he turns away and slips into the Horizon, returning home to his wife. ]