EVENT #18: EMERGENCE - IC EVENT LOG

[abraxasmods]

Event #18 - Emergence

OOC Plotting Post ⦁ Pre-Event Info ⦁ Setting Descriptions

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.

---

Comments

Julie Lawry | The Stand | Patron of the Forgotten

[princessvegas]

[ AU profile / bitchcraft / bitchcrafty @ discord / OOC plotting comment ]

CURRENT - CRATER

[princessvegas]

[ Contrary to her usual interactions with authorities, Julie requires very little persuasion to be ferried away to the Singularity. It feels a bit like a big joke on her, if she's honest; she illegally jumps the border and they offer an official switch the next week. She spends a year studying and practicing to travel here on her own in secret, and only a few months later, they're begging her to take a government-sanctioned trip. Why does she bother planning anything at all?

Her desperation to remain with the Singularity, in reality, has not faded since her illicit visit. The thread inside her has been pulled taut for months, the sense that she should be there competing with the knowledge that she cannot be there. Nowhere in Abraxas has ever felt so much like home — other than the Horizon, the vast empty crater of the Singularity is the only place she has felt complete. Like the missing puzzle piece of herself was found. She could have stayed there for the rest of her life, would have thrown herself back at its mercy over and over if not for Geralt being there to take her back. Back to her family, back to her life. Julie went with him.

But the string never stopped pulling.

It is not until she is through the portal, still far enough from the crater that the Abraxan mages and guards are safe, that a thought crosses her mind. She will be seen when she walks the distance, when she doesn't fall to the ground immediately as she is supposed to. They will know, they will watch her close the gap and reach the monolith itself as everyone drops around her. A brief stab of terror makes her freeze for a beat; she has worked so hard to maintain secrecy, to keep her connection from the knowledge of anyone she doesn't trust.

The string tugs again. Her feet move without her direction, into the descending fog, into the crater. She cannot see the ground, doesn't know if she is stepping into her own old footprints. The sound of bodies falling to the dirt seems distant, barely audible even just yards away from her. There is nothing but the Singularity again, and Julie is whole, complete once more.

Only one intentional thought remains — don't touch it, keep your hands off of it. It was touch that betrayed her last time, sent her consciousness back to the blob. All she has to do is not touch; even as she walks, she absently wrings her hands, clutches them together. Her arms tremble.

She reaches the Singularity, hesitates just outside of arm's reach. The quiver spreads through her body, makes her almost vibrate in place from the strain of holding back. Just one touch, just one, her whole being seems to cry out. She could weep, both from the ecstasy of being reunited and the agony of restraint. Her voice is a shaky murmur, or at least she thinks it is. Her ears are filled with the rushing sound of her own blood, her own breath. She could be screaming aloud and she would have no idea. ]

Hey again. It's okay, you know. Everything is okay. [ She can feel herself moving closer, almost as if to a lover; the exertion of her restraint threatens to bring her to her knees. ] I'm back, it's okay, I promise it is —

[ Julie doesn't realize her arm is moving, can't sense it. If she bows her head, her forehead would bump against the stone. Her hand presses flat against the monolith, like she means to soothe it with a touch.

Her entire body crumples to the ground in a pink-haired heap before she can even breathe, her mind swept away with the others. ]

MONTHS 1/2 - IMMERSION

[princessvegas]

OTA - HORIZON

[princessvegas]

[ Hundreds of years ago, long before her ascension, Julie accepted the Horizon as home on first visit. Even without any other memories, she had known in her soul that she was meant to be there. She can barely remember that trip; the details have long since faded from her mind, replaced with only the emotions and a fuzzy haze. Who was she with? She has wondered for centuries, unable to picture anything but the feeling of comfort, of the sense that she needed to find her exact place, as if locating a house in a neighborhood. It never occurred to her that she might need to build it — because she didn't.

Julie, following an instinct she had never known, had opened a door to find her entire domain, ready and waiting for her. Dozens of people cheered for her. She was where she was meant to be. And that is all she remembers.

She had been among the first to cross the barrier between the psychic and physical worlds. Deservedly so, she has always thought, though she maintains the grace to not verbalize her feelings to the others. And as she spent more time physically in the Horizon, she began to feel less and less entertained in her club. The context of why she should enjoy such a place — the music and the lights and so many people all the time — slipped away. Faded from her mind entirely. Without her life before Abraxas to frame the experience, she couldn't find any peace in a nightclub.

And so, one day, it became something else.

For many centuries now, her domain has instead been made up of fields of wildflowers, bright and explosively colorful, stretching for miles and miles in every direction, with little regard for geography; in one direction, the flowers grow into the edge of an ocean shore, waves lapping at the sand. The Singularity stands in another direction, enormous and looming and so much closer than in most other domains. Dotted throughout the meadows, seemingly at random, are sitting areas, as if to offer constant comfort. Some are more surreal than others, some almost entirely hidden behind hills and overgrowths and lonesome walls. Julie, occasionally in fox form, is often found in these meadows, lying in the blooms under the clouds during the day or the galaxies of stars at night. Where she is found, there are frequently a fair number of butterflies to be found in the air.

Wander far enough and you'll come across a beautiful, if somewhat confusing, manor house. Elements of the building appear to have been added at random, in a wide variety of styles; the building itself is a dark azalea color, the windows all stained glass. It's large but not uncomfortably so — the maximalist style Julie favors gives the rooms their own unique sense of coziness. Here, she is prone to wander through at her whimsy, entertaining herself.

The tiny creatures she has kept as pets for all these years still roam around at their own leisure, harassing the butterflies and bumblebees in her fields. They are as quick to find visitors as Julie herself is, sometimes even nipping at the heels of guests to direct them to her. (This behavior can be particularly unnerving when it's the pup-sized tyrannosaurus wearing a bow around its neck.)

Julie isn't someone who is especially picky about who lounges in the meadows of her domain. They're beautiful, peaceful places to relax, by design. The house opens on its own for her family, and after a polite knock to others. Those she holds most important, who visit most frequently, all have their own spaces kept throughout the mansion and into the surrounding landscapes. Tailored to each person she loves, they are always welcome to spend however much time they wish.

No matter where you go, eventually Julie will find anyone who doesn't find her first. ]

[wiedzminka]

[ Ciri's space within Julie's sprawling domain is by the sea. In her own section of the Horizon, she has all the forest and mountain she needs; here, within Julie's home and the piece of that home she's given to Ciri, the landscape curves into a cove nestled between cliffs that fade into the Horizon's usual anomalous topography. It can only be reached through the cave opening that serves as its entrance, and the gateway moves on Ciri's whims, or Julie's, accessible only when one of them wishes it to be.

She likes to come here to relax. Time moves differently after all these years; she might be here for a day or for weeks at a time, and has on occasion gotten lost in the atmosphere and spending time with Julie -- exploring different parts of the Horizon together or listening to her stories -- for even longer.

Floating on her back in the water, Ciri watches the pink sky above. She lifts her head when she senses Julie's presence. ]

Want to go for a swim with me?

[princessvegas]

[ The only reason Julie never moved to the coast when she was a mortal was because the others — Ciri included — didn't. And that love of the beach is still very clear in the way she's crafted this piece of the Horizon. While there are whimsical, surreal touches to the fields and the house, the coast remains hyper-realistic, right down to the tiny crabs peeking up through the grains of sand. They'll pinch toes that get too close. She loves the real beach so much that she doesn't see the need to do anything except duplicate it.

(Well, there is the little fish town she put under a cove; a rock and a statue and a pineapple for them to live in. She vaguely recalls the impulse to put it there — she doesn't know why, but she thought it was funny.)

Joined by her unicorn and snake, Julie smiles when Ciri finally looks up. She allows her family to come and go as they please, though she can always feel their presence and location. She leaves Ciri alone for a while before she walks through the cave, but then her curiosity as to what brings her here wins out. Wisps of extremely long pink hair float on the breeze, though most of it is tied up atop her head. Her dress is little more than shimming gauze around her, and it disappears as she walks toward the water.

The unicorn stays in the shallows, splashing around in the waves. The snake seems to check out entirely once Julie is in the water; it dissipates into butterflies that flit above them as she reaches Ciri. She treads water easily now, naturally enough that she could never imagine there was time she had never seen the ocean. The freckles scattered along her shoulders and face glitter in the sun. ]

Hey. [ She spits a mouthful of salty water at Ciri with a grin. ] Soon it'll be warm enough to go to the beach in Abraxas, too. Poke all the humans in the legs so they freak out.

[wiedzminka]

[ When Julie steps into the water, Ciri flips over to swim toward her. And for her efforts is rewarded with Julie's saltwater spit in her general vicinity.

Ciri's face scrunches up, and she half-sputters, half-laughs, making a show of being fake grossed out. In retaliation, she splashes some water (with her hand, because she's not that rude!) back at her friend. ]

Poke them in the legs? [ She snickers, imagining the way they must startle and look for creatures in the water. ] Does that work?

I suppose you could let your snake spook them a bit. If someone deserves it.

[princessvegas]

[ For a moment, Julie just shrieks playfully and splashes back, the two of them goofing around like children. The water is warm and relaxing, crystal clear blue. She wipes her face with a giggle and bobs slightly above the surface with the cycling of her legs. ]

Sure. Haven't you ever seen someone get brushed by seaweed when they aren't expecting it? It's the funniest thing I can think of.

[ Hyperbole, but still. She smiles up toward the sun and one of the butterflies rests on the tip of her nose for a few seconds before taking off again. When she grins at Ciri, her fangs are visible. ]

What are you up to out here?

OTA - GODLANDS

[princessvegas]

[ In the Godlands, it's not uncommon to catch sight of a small pink fox roaming the forests. While it often dozes under the crystal trees, it also enjoys following people — gods and unfortunate wandering mortals alike — around, laughing from behind bushes and perched in the branches of trees.

But the Singularity itself is usually where Julie prefers to be. She thinks nothing of spending weeks at a time curled at the base, a speck of brilliant carnation pink against the enormity of the stone. She has never felt the need to grow large, as so many of her peers have; Julie has contained the magnitude of the Singularity within herself since long before she could even fathom the idea of godhood. She needs no additional space. When she's been there, flowers sprout at the Singularity's feet for months after, crawling upward on vines to embrace the monolith. Those who enjoy heights may sometimes find her lazing in the opening at the top, accompanied by an opalescent snake and some matching butterflies.

It's easy to overhear her in the quiet of the woods, carrying on what seems to be a one-sided conversation with no one. Her accent, finally softened after centuries, is still sweet and lilting as she chats away. The topics are wide and varied, but the tone is always that of someone chatting with their best friend. Fellow gods who interrupt may find themselves suddenly experiencing the other end of the conversation — the Singularity's end, all deafening emotion and wordless sensation. ]

[gynvael]

[ Geralt does not necessarily avoid the Godlands, but he sees little reason to visit except to look in on it everything is stable. It's been several centuries, but a part of him remains concerned. If there's one thing he's never forgotten, it's how quickly the world changes.

But lately, even he's started to accept that the days are simply steady and will be for some time.

Moss and old roots unfurl as he rides down the slope towards the crater. He always knows where to find her, and though he could ask her to meet him someplace, he likes the act of just. Arriving. Time is inconsequential, anyhow. A week, two. What does it matter? When he arrives in spring, she's there. His form hasn't shifted, either; he doesn't bother wearing the wolf around her—or any of the gods, really. But his hair is a touch longer, a phoenix feather tucked into the cord.

His gaze flicks briefly to the Singularity—he hears it, but seldom speaks to it like some of the others—before landing on Julie. ]

One of these centuries, [ he dismounts and walks towards her, ] I might be jealous of your ancient friend.

[ With a small smile, he holds out his palm. In it sits a small serpent with two pearls for eyes. It's carved not from wood but from the tusk of a beast he slew. His efforts have grown smoother since the days he first begun, though there's a roughness to his work that's never gone away. He's probably given her countless of these things by now. Frankly doesn't care if she tosses them eventually. He likes giving them to her, that's all. Besides, the winters are slow when one has no mortal needs to look after. It's just him, the mountains, and an endless array of materials to whittle. ]

[princessvegas]

[ The spring sun has finally grown warm enough that it's comfortable to lie out in the Singularity's crater. Julie could always exert magic if she really wanted to, make it always a midsummer's day even in the dead of winter, but the seasons are a way to track time. To let the plants rebirth themselves every year. Keep the animals on their natural cycles. To know when each year passes, so that everything isn't just a blur of sameness in her head.

She's been here for a while, it's clear — wisteria and honeysuckle have begun to climb the stony base of the Singularity, taller than she is. Jasmine perfumes the air around the monolith, the smaller white flowers peeking between the more colorful blooms and their crawling vines. Reclining against the side of the Singularity, Julie is lazily weaving tiny flower crowns. A handful to be taken back home, to the Horizon, with her, but also a stack that she is considering putting on the heads of squirrels in the forests closest to the mortals, just to laugh at their confusion. Who is making such small, intricate wreaths? Why are they crowning the squirrels? How many could they have possibly done (answer: a lot)? Perhaps she'll add tiny hats for the crows in autumn.

Everyone has their own hobbies.

When Geralt's mossy undergrowth meets her wildflowers, she rises with a grin and falls easily into the long-established custom; she runs through the grass until she is close enough to throw herself at him, arms wrapped around his neck. Maybe it seems dramatic, after all these years, but her excitement for his returns has never waned, one of the few clear memories she has from her earliest years in Abraxas. He comes and goes, and when he comes, the same flutter has been in her stomach for all the time she can account for, now and then.

Her fingers tangle into his hair when she kisses him with a muffled coo. Her own locks fall far down her back now, past her hips, half tied up with braids and dotted with small strings of pearls gifted to her by Nanaue. Still clinging to Geralt's neck, she breaks away just enough to speak with a soft laugh. ] Why be jealous when you're the one who gets benefits?

[ With another kiss and her hand on his cheek, she finally releases him to put her feet flat on the ground. She takes the snake with a murmur of adoration, and it's honest — Julie keeps everything her friends give her, and has for centuries. His carvings fill an entire wall of shelves by now, starting with a blocky little wolf she can't even recall receiving now. The snake will join the others once she returns to her domain. ]

Was the Dimming really so long ago? [ Her free hand slides along his arm, laces their fingers together. She has always refused to let the Dimming pass without ensuring he receives a gift, even though it's during his annual retreat into the snow. In the first years she was able to follow him easily, she would leave packages at the door, unsure if he was willing to see even her, and before she could travel that quickly, she would hide the gifts in secret compartments she made in Roach's tack, as if challenging him to find them. But now, she appears at his door on the night she can feel the Singularity most deeply quiet in her mind, crocuses sprouting around her in the snow as she knocks. One night, sometimes two, that she stays, then returns to her own realm of sunshine and vibrant colors for the rest of the winter.

She squeezes his hand, gives a teasing smile. ] At this rate, I'll barely have time to miss you before you come back down.

[gynvael]

[ The burdens that once weighed his shoulders lifted long ago, but even so, when he returns from the winter, he nonetheless looks lighter. Perhaps it's the act of getting away from a world filled with people who look at them in a manner he's never taken to like others have. The endless stories don't bother him, exactly. That part's familiar. He just isn't compelled to indulge them. It's certainly not an accident that he's allowed the myth of his winter slumber to circulate.

But he likes reuniting with people. The routine keeps him from spiralling through an abyss of meaningless time. There are faces he makes sure to see first, Julie amongst them.

He greets her embrace with his own, holding her close as the smell of wildflowers envelopes them. A narrow braid tumbles from his hair, the clearest sign that he's either spent the winter with Ciri or recently encountered Jaskier. (Sometimes both.) Letting her take his hand, he tucks a lock of her lengthened hair with the other. His horse vanishes through the trees.

He laughs a little. ] I'll be sure to descend more slowly next year.

[ She always has an unspoken invitation to come with him, but he knows, like Jaskier, she both prefers the warmth and seems to feel that his retreat is something of a wolf's tradition—a time when he's only ever joined by his brothers or Ciri, and which involves a lot of swinging swords and hunting and the occasional ill-advised experiment even by non-mortal standards. In theory, he's meant to have a solid four months of peace and solitude, but the reality isn't always so.

He holds out one of the miniature crowns she was making, lifted from the pile at her feet. Her love of small creatures hasn't left. Neither has her habit of dressing them up. ] Do I get one, as well?

[princessvegas]

[ She can remember, many centuries ago, that she used to still pine while he was away in the mountains. Time seemed to pass more slowly then, and she doesn't clearly recall whether they were still... mortal. But more and more seasons passed, becoming fuzzy and undefined in her mind, and soon her heart stopped aching when she missed him in those months. Changed, until the sharp corners of impatience wore down to a softer kind of wistfulness in the back of her chest. Waiting.

Julie has always waited. She always will.

With a hum and a giggle, she presses her lips gently to his knuckles, holds the back of his hand to her cheek and leans into it. The sun filters through the trees and makes the dusting of freckles across her nose sparkle like flakes of diamond. Her lashes hang low as she looks up at him. ] It may take more time for my brain to miss you, but I know someone else who misses you the second we say goodbye. So don't take too long now, my wolf.

[ From another pile closer to the Singularity, a larger ring of woven asters and marigolds rises on its own, flies straight into her outstretched free hand. Reaching up, she places it atop his head with aplomb. ]

You know I always make extras. [ Even the blooms that surround the Singularity, if one looks closely enough, appear as an actual circle. A crown, albeit at the wrong end. Several of her butterflies immediately settle amongst Geralt's flowers. ] I'm going to play a little trick on the humans. Let them think the squirrels are hiding something.

[thoughts]

[ whether it's through the horizon or on the physical plane, serenity visits the singularity often. how could she not, knowing that it's the source of all that she is and all that she's become? she doesn't remember the days of a naive human girl thinking it might be lonely, yet the desire to stay close and keep it company has remained firm across the ages.

she's seen the pink fox a thousand times by now. even knowing that this space is home to all of the gods, most especially those that came before them, serenity often views the godlands in the same light as eksya's garden. the overflowing fields of flowers in her domain aren't present here, but more often than not when she visits, the fox is somewhere prancing or playing or sleeping in the trees. like a home away from home, perhaps; it's hard not to associate her with the singularity in this place where it stands eternal with eksya as a stalwart companion.

serenity approaches this space much more like a guest than a resident. she wanders through with a sense of awe and admiration no matter how many times she visits, feeling terribly small in the midst of ancient forces and the center of their very existence. she likes to wander through the trees, touching the crystalline roots with reverence, or sit beside the singularity and simply listen to the silence. it's a nice reprieve from the chaos of the world beyond the borders of the crater.

that's where she is today, sitting at the creator's feet and holding a hand against it as she basks in the singularity's presence. she hasn't seen the fox yet but she doubts she's far away or that she won't arrive eventually. serenity has no concept of the passage of time - all things are always happening at all times, past, present, and future coexisting in every direction - so she sits for hours or days or maybe weeks, smiling warmly and quietly rambling about anything at all like a child happy to be holding the ( impassive ) attention of their parent. ]

They wanted to keep it secret but they hid it too well. Can't play hide and seek if the seekers get lost. They're in the woods but they haven't asked for help yet.

[ she's a little proud - that would be cheating! - and on and on she rambles, heedless of the time or anything else in her surroundings. ]

[princessvegas]

[ Some of the few memories that Eksya has of the early years are the first times she ever visited the Singularity. They stand in stark contrast to the hazy, foggy quality of so many other recollections; where most of that era is a warm sepia-toned blur, the Singularity towers in screaming color, in crystal clarity. The first time in the Horizon, the language only she could hear at the time — she remembers the way both Stephen and Wanda had pulled their hands away as if burned. The second time, in person. She'd worked so hard, taught herself so much to get there. Risked her life multiple times over to try and get to the place she knew she was meant to be. And once she got there, she knew she would not be complete again until she could be with the Singularity permanently. The pain of leaving it was visceral, unending. Something she became accustomed to, rather than healing from.

She hadn't realized it would take a few hundred years, but once her dream was granted, once she could stay, well. That's exactly what she did.

By now, she can leave the Godlands and not feel a gaping wound in her soul. The freedom to come and go has stitched her whole again. The Singularity, which she has carried within her own mind since nearly the beginning of it all, is still there even when she cannot see it. The other Summoned — the other gods - do not feel like the threat she saw them as for so long. Eksya is content to let others lie in the warmth of the Singularity's being too. In the Horizon, her domain is closer to the Singularity than anyone else's she can think of; the others let it loom in the distance, but she has built her home, her fields, her life near enough that it may as well be the pillar holding the sky above.

In the Godlands, she ambles the crystalized forest as if it is her own house. There are few places she has not gone, both as fox and as woman, marking her territory like a housecat rubbing its face against its owner's leg. Proverbially. And also occasionally literally, with her cheeks. And while she often spends weeks on end lying in the grass next to the monolith, she doesn't mind giving the others space to sit with it.

But that willingness doesn't promise privacy.

Eksya cannot say she has ever really understood Serenity. While Eksya retained much of her humanity throughout her ascension, it has always felt as if Serenity never had humanity to begin with. As if she were a being rather than a person, even to start with. Her riddles are impenetrable, her powers almost too much, godhood be damned. Though she (probably) does not intend it, Serenity gives Eksya a sense of... comfortable discomfort. Comfortable because it has been centuries, but the initial discomfort has never truly faded.

The fox lies curled in the crook of a tree branch above. Not so close as to be a hinderance, but close enough that she can see and hear. Serenity's presence does not bother her; she is just now waking from a nap, bright eyes opening to peer over the fluff of her own tail wrapped around herself. The shade of the forest canopy cloaks her as her ears twitch and turn, shifting to listen in. ]

[thoughts]

[ privacy is fallacy for serenity at any rate - except, coincidentally, where it comes to the other gods. she can see all there is across abraxas, everything that isn't shielded by magic or a god's domain. with every lifetime laid out before her from start to finish, it's too much to hold on to any details. it all blurs together in a dizzying spiral of colors and sounds, hopes and fears, joy and misery and everything in between.

it's enough to drive anyone mad. eksya's impression of her isn't inaccurate. serenity is doing her best just to be, to exist at all without getting lost in the mire. a young girl named river struggled in much the same way, clutching onto a sense of humanity that had been carved out of her with knives and needles. now those memories are gone and the mad maiden remains, a being with too much power and a fractured grasp on reality. everything is and is not at the same time, so she it only makes sense that she is and is not too.

but her cognition doesn't reach the gods. she isn't overwhelmed by the sights and sensations of the godlands or the horizon, isn't privy to the inner workings of her fellow divinity without coming into physical contact with them. she can't tell that eksya is just above her in the trees, and for that scared little girl that fought so hard to maintain control only to lose it in the end, the silent but stalwart companionship of the singularity is a blessing.

she can count on one hand the number of people she's touched in the last few centuries. but here, she can reach out to the singularity and feel connection without pain. it's the closest she ever comes to feeling whole again. ]

They call it a "holy relic" but I think it's just a hairbrush or a comb. I can't remember the last time I ever brushed my hair.

[ despite its extreme length and the way it shifts in the air when she uses her magic. it must be ancient, carried by her followers for generations as something sacred to protect, only to end up losing it. it seems fitting somehow. they are fanatics, after all. ]

Nothing special about it, but maybe it could be, as a reward for anyone that makes it to the end of the forgotten maze. What do you think? You've given us gifts before.

[ she smiles and waits, knowing no answer will be coming but content to sit in the silence of her one-sided conversation anyway. it's hard to say if the magic granted to them by the singularity is truly a "gift," especially with the messy path she's fallen down as a result of it. but for all her anguish and confusion over the centuries, she has never blamed the singularity. perhaps she should, but she doesn't. it stands eternal at the core of them all, and they are left to make what they will of the magic at their fingertips.

she wants to do the same for those desperate and foolish enough to pray to her. just a nudge, a drop of her power for them to take the next step forward on a path of their own. maybe she'll make it a comb that gives you good dreams... ]

feeding the maw

[aquaveiled]

[ ooc; LMK if this doesn't work! ]


[ Time may pass differently now, but there are certain schedules that Azem likes to keep to. Well, the idea of schedule is still a little loosey goosey as the saying goes, but there are certain things she makes a point to return to. One of those such things is the ominous creature that exists in the jagged canyon that creates a natural border between nations: the aptly named Maw.

It eats what it can get and what mortals often provide it are other mortals. Most are presumably deserving a gruesome death and while Azem doesn't like being the arbiter of such destruction, she isn't actively trying to stop it. But she does feel bad for the thing that seems to be ever hungry. (And given what it's like when she's succumbed to her own Famine affliction, she understands where it's coming from.)

So she cooks for it like she does everyone else she encounters and makes a point to vary the dishes she creates. Sure, it may be fine with raw flesh and bone, but who is to say that variety isn't the spice of life for every living being? The Maw deserves it too.

She doesn't always run into other gods when she visits, though they're usually playing jury and executioner or savior. The other deity she sees isn't one she often crosses path with, but after eight centuries, Azem is at least passingly familiar with most, and this one is close with Geralt if memory serves. ]

Eksya?

[ She greets with a free hand, her other holding a large basket. As she looks around, there doesn't seem to be any new mortals present...so no incoming sacrifices, at least. ]

What brings you out here today?

[princessvegas]

[ The truth of the matter is that Eksya mostly feeds the Maw food because she likes to bake and it feels a bit silly to simply get rid of the extras. Sometimes she leaves them for mortals — her magic bakes in and lends them a tiny bit of luck. Which is fine by her, but she also doesn't want them to get spoiled. No one likes a spoiled mortal.

When Azem calls out, she is levitating above the Maw, literally upturning a wicker hamper of baked goods to let them fall into the Maw's gaping maw. Honestly, she's not even sure it can taste what she feeds it; it seems too large to get the actual flavor of a cake or pie. But it... feels grateful. Sort of. ]

Oh, Azem! [ It's impossible to not know her fellow gods by name at this point. They have been together for hundreds of years, their own isolated little group.

Ekysa waves one hand. ] Just giving some extras to someone who'll appreciate them. You?

[aquaveiled]

[ The baked goods fall in a cascade of deliciousness that Azem can smell even from a distance. The nose of a culinarian knows when there's good food about and a well-done bake is something that can be experienced by all senses. Surely the Maw has to appreciate that on some level, right?

Though, truth be told, the act of baking and cooking in and of itself is a joy. Mayhaps Eksya feels the same way even if their guest can't fully express its (obvious) appreciation of taste and skill. ]

I was just thinking the same thing!

[ Preferring to keep her feet to the ground, she comes to the edge of the canyon and holds up her own basket, pulling back the cloth to reveal a number of pies and sweet rolls. ]

A diet of only sinful mortals can't be too good on the stomach, right?

[ She's sure she's seen it have indigestion before. Surely... ]

What did you have on the menu? Did I see a croissant?

[princessvegas]

[ She does sometimes leave the treats for the demigods instead, and she's equally undecided on whether or not they're capable of appreciating it. But it can't be all that much worse than feeding ducks or squirrels, she figures. Just bigger. And more carnivorous.

Holding the basket on one hip, Eksya makes her way back to solid ground, sending pink ripples through the air under each foot as she walks down. She sighs and tilts her head, thinking. ]

Mm, four kinds of croissants, some brown sugar cookies. Tomato basil bread. A bunch of little tarts, I was experimenting with the lattice. And a lemon meringue pie with little rosettes of candied lemon slices around the edge. If I'd known you'd come along, I would have kept that one, it turned out pretty. And what have you brought?

MONTH 3 - AWAKENING

[princessvegas]

CLOSED - STEPHEN ✨

[princessvegas]

[ Everything is fine. It is a conscious thought in her head, a deliberate sign she is reading over and over. Every time she feels the sky fracture again, with a shuddering craaaccccck, she forces herself to focus solely on one thought:

Everything. Is. Fine.

And because everything is fine, she is going about her ordinary, everyday, totally fine day. She is visiting a friend. A friend who, coincidentally would definitely be able to understand and fix anything that hypothetically might not be fine. Which is irrelevant because everything is fine.

She has always needed a moment to mentally prepare before stepping into Stephen's domain. All the constantly moving shards filled with other moving images sometimes become... distracting. Mildly overwhelming. So her pause at the doorway, faceted and sparkling like diamonds, is entirely normal.

A small pink fox warily watches its reflection for a moment, deliberately exhales, then walks through the rippling surface. Coming out on the other side and immediately being caught in a little somersault, she huffs as she rights herself and begins to traverse through the slivers of what he has explained are other universes, though she has never understood what these tiny fragments of a whole universe can tell him.

And no, she absolutely does not look like a dog trying to swim through space. (She does.)

After about ten minutes of just sort of drifting in various directions, she glimpses the darkness of a silhouette between the shards. All four legs paddle in the air. With animal grace, she launches herself off one of the prismatic shimmers and then bounces off another. She lands on her human toes, changing in midair as she greets him. ]

You know, there is still something to be said for gravity. Am I interrupting anything, Stephen?

[sorser]

[He feels the presence of someone else, but this is one of those days when Stephen is…

Lost. In possibilities. In the reflections within pieces that show him the different paths the whole world could take, the different ways in which the universe bends. But today, he seeks out something with purpose — there is something wrong in Abraxas. There are tears across the sky, fractures in reality itself. This should not be.

Everything is Not Fine, though he desperately seeks a reason to prove that It Is. To make it Fine again, if need be.

He’s floating upside-down when she finds him, even if “upside-down is very relative in a place like this”, pushing aside smaller fractal pieces the way one would sort through too-much paperwork. There’s a cinch to his brow, though his face is sometimes obscured by his billowing, red-purple cloak which whorls behind him with no rhyme or reason in this strange anti-gravity.]

Come on. You have fun in the free flow of non-gravity.

[Does she though? He says it like it must be a true statement. Stephen blinks, tearing his gaze away from what he’s sorting through, angling to look at her. Still upside-down, though he rights himself in a moment later.]

I’m trying to understand what’s been happening in the world lately. Why? Are you all right?

[The concerned vibes might not be comforting to her, if she’s seeking to validate that Everything Is Fine.]

[princessvegas]

[ She chuckles, a small but genuine smile quickly crossing her face for the first time in days. The hem of her dress swirls around her feet. ]

I can have fun, given the right circumstances. But I think if I were going to play bookkeeper to all universes, I might like to avoid feeling like a jellyfish in the ocean.

[ His tone is not reassuring. It actually makes her heart pound in her chest as the anxiety takes the opening to flood her veins again. Everything is fine, she repeats internally, as if she needs to remind each body part on its own. Her feet, her legs, her fingers. Everything is fine.

Her face holds, though, at least for the most part. There is the briefest of flicker in her eyes, a single sharp breath that she can't quite catch. A blink and it's gone, snuffed back out by the constant refrain, the suffocating force with which she keeps insisting to herself, Everything is fine.

She exhales and it feels like her lungs are sinking. ]

Of course, I'm fine.

[ In her head, her voice is convincing. Airy, casual. A passing shard gives her the excuse to glance away; she plucks it from its path and looks at it with mild interest. She can't make herself actually process the images, but it gives her the beat she needs. Letting the piece go again, the resolute determination is restored behind her eyes, even if there's a twitch in her fingers before she folds them into her palms. ]

Is something happening in the world? [ Her head tilts, and she momentarily resembles the fox she often is. She answers herself before Stephen can. ] There's always something happening in the world. Never seems to stop, does it? I thought you might be up for a drink.

[ Her face is placid, serene. A delicate smile that she is calculating the intensity of even as she speaks. Terror thrashes under her skin, against her ribs, in the back of her eyes, contained within the cage that is her body.

Everything. Is. Fine. ]

[sorser]

[Everything is fine, but it isn’t. Despite his mote of humor, and the exchange between them, Stephen feels the weight of something decidedly Wrong threading through them all, causing cracks in otherwise mirrored surfaces. Even his own displays of potential realities and what-ifs have been shimmering erratically as of late. Sometimes, he thinks he sees a strange version of himself reflected in the glass.

Stephen looks at her. At Julie’s smile — serene, but something underneath it that speaks of fear and uncertainty. A shadow under the surface, and he… feels for her.]

Yes. There is something "happening"- [He says, a little too harshly, and then decides that's unnecessary; he softens his tone, almost apologetic.] -that requires a good, hard drink.

Let's talk. Have a seat.

[He a flick of a wrist, and two chairs appears, complete with a stout little table. Yes, they float about just like the fractal pieces around them, but surely this is not an issue for a pair of gods.]