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.

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Comments

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.

[gynvael]

[ He brushes his thumb over her cheek, then lays his palm flat and leans in to kiss her again. It's funny. He expected to either die before her or outlive her, but he never imagined they would simply be here together. Sometimes, it all feels a little too good to be true, but he knows it's his cynicism speaking. After centuries, he hasn't much reason to doubt what he's been allowed to have. ]

Hm. [ He seldom says it, but he misses them, too. Each of them. Maybe it's odd to seek that feeling, leaving as he does. It's just, he's seen the way some of them have fallen, consumed by apathy and the callousness of the years. He doesn't want to stumble down the same path. There's some comfort in the reminder that his heart remains intact.

He ducks a bit so she can place the crown on his head. A bright blue morpho flutters to one of the yellow blooms. He studies a plump red squirrel, clutching a nut as thick as its tail between its paws. It stares at him, unapologetic. ]

Crafty. [ He can envision it now. Dozens of squirrels, wearing tiny woven crowns. ] Will they have a leader?

[ He starts to walk, one hand still in hers. It doesn't matter where they go anymore, but he picks a direction regardless. The land around the Singularity has grown lush since; even without his canopy of firs, the trees that grow here give plenty of shade. He turns towards the shores to the east; he doesn't see much of the ocean through the winter, and he knows she likes the water. Besides. They might glimpse one of the dragons beneath. ]

[princessvegas]

[ She leans into his touch, free hand gently resting on his chest when she sighs and smiles. Julie can't remember when it became evident that they were all somewhat frozen in time, not aging, surviving things they shouldn't be able to. She can't remember when it became clear that they were becoming something more. What she recalls is the warmth of knowing it was together.

He misses the innuendo, but it's fine — she wasn't bothered by his occasional failure to catch a joke when she met him, and she isn't bothered by it now. She follows his gaze to the squirrel; one of the tiny crowns lifts from the stack and drops over its ears with aplomb. The squirrel blinks and looks around sharply, but then returns to its bounty. ] Oh, of course they will. I'll have to take a look around and find the fattest squirrel in the woods. Make it a fancier crown, so everyone knows who's in charge.

[ Grinning, she glances down at her feet as she walks alongside him, letting him lead. The coast has started to grow warm with the weather, and she hasn't visited real thing since the temperature dropped; she prefers the warmth of the beach in her domain during those months, the place that Ciri chose to share with her. Julie looks back up at him, her thumb stroking the back of his hand. ]

Lead the way, baby.

[gynvael]

[ Not much of Geralt has changed over the past centuries, and this is one of them.

He listens to her with amused curiosity; antics are common amongst their kind (and wouldn't he know that, being friends with certain pipers as he is), but Geralt prefers not to engage personally. He also prefers not to discuss the occasions when he does participate. Like now, as he sets a crown on a second, smaller squirrel to join its brethren.

No one needs to know.

He leads. They cross a distance that should take weeks but only amounts to a few hours. The forest unfolds ahead of them along the way. Grass sprouts over sand and barren cliffs, then melts behind him—an unending path that pauses only when they reach the beach. No sense in disturbing the scenery. Fishing boats and wandering mortals dot the shoreline. He pays no attention to them, and the humans stare right through him, unaware.

The water sparkles under the sun. Sometimes he wonders what lies beyond the sea. Now that they're what they are, the ocean can't contain them. But truthfully, he isn't compelled to try. ]

Did I miss anything?

[princessvegas]

[ There is a familiar pattern to their conversation over the miles — one made up of her chatter and his mostly-silence, punctuated by only a few words and grunts. But for much of the time, there is a comfortable quiet between them, built on so many years together. Long ago, she was terrified of silence, would find words just to fill all the space she could. But gradually, she forgot why she was afraid, and it stopped being so difficult to have that stillness around herself. To enjoy it.

Their feet leave no prints in the sand behind them. The noise of the humans is little more than a muffled background, lying under the sound of the waves washing up against the shore, the rocks. Julie draws close when they pause, leaned into his side as she watches the water too.

There's a moment where she thinks of what might qualify, but then she shakes her head and chuckles. ] Nope. Only me.

[gynvael]

[ Now and then, it seems like the older he grows, the less he has to say. Perhaps it's that the people who know him truly know him. What more is there to learn after all this time? He remains loath to accept that he's easy to read—though Jaskier would breezily insist otherwise—but it's hard to deny that some recognize what's on his mind without speaking it out loud.

It's something he shares with her, too. Especially after he let her inside his head. (And his heart.)

He settles onto the sand with her, and leans in close. ] That's plenty.

[ His thumb traces the curve of her jaw. Then he kisses her, fingers sinking into the soft sand. ]

[princessvegas]

[ She can barely remember a time where she found Geralt difficult to read. It's always been one of her talents, reading people — she knows that it was easy long before she had the powers of a god. Her foggy memories of a ball passed between them, of a bonfire with both of them drunk. He simply made sense to her, and much as she cannot remember a time before she could read or speak, he has always been an open book in her eyes.

Well, at least in person. Ironically, he has always been most difficult to decode through his writing. There's only so much to glean from the way he writes.

Her neck cranes up toward him, one hand on his cheek as she melts into his kiss. The flutter in her stomach has been present every time she has seen him for nearly all her life, and it still becomes frantic at every kiss; now it crashes around inside her as if doing backflips. ]

I did miss you. [ She murmurs softly against his lips, lifting her other arm to wrap them both around his shoulders. It has barely been a blink since she last saw him, not even half a year, but the length of time never matters. She always misses him when he isn't with her. Julie has just moved past when it was painful to miss him.

When she kisses him again, it's harder, her nails pressing into the back of his neck. ]

[gynvael]

[ His fingers dip gently into the small of her back. She's not changed a lot over the years, and he likes that about her. Still the same height, still the same pink hair. Though he does enjoy the small fox that occasionally darts around his forest or curls under the sunlight. It suits her, that form.

He smiles a little. ] Me, too.

[ It's a welcome ache. And he won't deny he likes to know he's been missed. Time is strange when it's spun for so long; he's come across his share of others who've closed themselves off. He glimpses shades of himself in them, and he knows that were it not for his family, he might've fallen down the same path. Or stayed down that path, perhaps. He was there once before, though the edges of those memories have blurred now.

As he pushes her onto her back, a dense patch of grass sprouts beneath her like a blanket. He glides one hand up her leg. The sun has warmed her skin, and he can feel it against his back. ]

[princessvegas]

[ It actually probably says something about her, that she already considered her appearance to largely be perfect long before she could change it at will. Even as a mortal, she rarely felt small or ugly or incomplete; she's picked up the little changes that seem to have simply cropped up on their own. The shimmer of her freckles, the fangs in her mouth. Practically all of them appear to have gained some additions or changes out of the blue. But the rest of her remains startlingly close to the way she appeared hundreds and hundreds of years ago.

One thing she has always loved about him is how rock-steady he is. He looks mostly like she always remembers him looking, he has not drastically changed in personality. There is something comfortable about that for her, something relaxing. She knows who he is and will be, and it makes her feel safe.

Tiny flowers bloom across the grass as she lies back into it. Her hands clutch at his hair, his shirt. Her dress is little more than a slip of sheer, silky fabric and flowers, slit higher than her hip with only skin underneath. Her thighs part to make room for him; the skin of her leg has a trail of goose bumps where his hand has run.

The cool ocean breeze keeps the beating sun's heat from rising above a pleasant temperature. The waves crash and ebb, the rushing sound filling her ears as much as her own quiet moans and sighs. ]

nsfw.

[gynvael]

[ He certainly cannot deny that; he prefers how she looks, her scent, all the things he associated with her at the time they met and has no desire to see vanish. But he is fond of her more prominent freckles. When they kiss, he lets her sharpened fangs scrape gently against his tongue.

He grows the flowers he knows she likes best. It's subconscious, somewhat, but home is what he makes of it now, and when there are others in it or who visit it, he wants them to feel like they belong, too. There are always butterflies in his woods if Julie is with him.

His hands explore her body, the warmth of her skin bleeding through the thin material. The flower's delicate petals slide between his fingers, soft and silky. They remind him of camellias, the kind he used to pass in late spring, in some distant memory he no longer sees with clarity. It's not long before he hitches her slip up higher, though. His hand slides between her thighs, and he watches her with a knowing familiarity. They've been here so many times, but he never does tire of it. ]

[princessvegas]

[ 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. ]

[gynvael]

[ The venom leaves a faint tingle over his tongue; sometimes it stings his throat, the way his old elixirs used to, back when they still mattered. The first time her fangs appeared, it'd surprised him, but these days, he's come to expect it—even looks forward to it.

He turns his head, pressing his lips to her palm. His cloak is easy to shed, slipping off his shoulders; he lets it fall onto the grass that's overtaken the sand, though the ocean breeze still blows the fine particles their way. They catch in his hair as he undoes the buttons down his trousers.

When he kisses her again, it's just under her jaw. He can feel her pulse humming, and his fingers dip further within between her legs. ]

[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... ]

[princessvegas]

[ The Singularity's conscious surges inside of her own, warm and heavy and insistent. For Eksya, it has been the state of the world since she can remember; the others have memories of before they could speak the Singularity's language, but that time has slipped from Eksya's mind. Somewhere between a first and second tongue lies the Singularity, their understanding of each other after so long alone together.

She knows the others can understand its language now too, in their own ways. But she isn't so sure of whether it is as instinctive for them as it is for her. Serenity asks questions as if she does not expect answers — but Eksya has never felt that same lack of expectation.

Curiously, if still drowsily, she begins to decode Serenity's words. Her followers, they've lost something. A comb. Eksya wonders how they got it to start. Turned prize for... a maze? What maze? Has Serenity reclaimed her comb from them, to leave it as a trophy?

Eksya can feel the Singularity's questioning in her head. A gift in what way? What drop of power does she dare to trust them with? After all these years, the Singularity still cannot truly feel the mortals, cannot see them like an elephant cannot see an ant.

With a wide yawn that ends in a squeak, Eksya unfolds herself and stretches, then walks along the branch with an easy grace. The leaves in the trees shudder as she leaps from one bough to another. Still shielded in shadow, she sits and angles her head. Her nostrils flare slightly — Serenity smells of stars and animal organs. Hearts and eyeballs.

A dim, rosy glow surrounds Eksya for just a moment. Near Serenity, a muffin appears, sitting atop a stump. Apple cinnamon.

Eksya has her own gift occasionally bestowed on the mortals. The things she bakes, saturated in her magic, leave them with a single small stroke of good fortune. ]

[thoughts]

[ maybe it's in the nature of their connections, that eksya is right at home here and serenity feels like she's passing on through. she can feel the singularity's presence, its warmth, sometimes she can even feel its affection. but nothing more distinct ever comes and she doesn't expect it to.

even then, she doesn't need to be intimately familiar with its comforting silence to know that the muffin that appears is not, in fact, a gift from the singularity. it has eksya's magic all over it, from its faintly pink aura to the spicy-sweet scent of cinnamon that floats on the breeze. from behind her black lace blindfold, serenity's golden eyes widen and light up; it's hard to surprise an omnipotent being, after all. the gods are always the exception.

she assumed eksya might appear eventually, but perhaps she was already here all along? serenity can't see her but she can hear the trees, feel the air. a rustling of leaves and branches that has already happened crosses her gaze and she looks sharply upward in the general direction of where the fox lays hidden. it's not enough to find her exact position, but enough to know she's there. ]

Oh. Hello.

[ her lips don't move from a faint smile but her voice is heard aloud anyway, her tone soft and curious.

she turns to the muffin; serenity doesn't eat very often anymore, having long abandoned those sorts of unnecessary human functions, but it's rude to reject a gift, especially something handmade! what could she give in return? maybe the comb? no, that would be silly. after a moment of contemplation, she finally reaches over to accept the muffin into one hand and holds the other hand flat over the stump. ]

It's not for eating, but you can have this, if you'd like.

[ there's a puff of white smoke and a geode appears on the stump where the muffin once sat, larger than her palm and cracked open to expose uncut rose quartz crystals that glitter from within. serenity's followers don't deal in finery but they do leave her shiny rocks and colorful things they think she might like.

there's nothing magical about it. it's just pink, and pretty, and filled with the hopes and prayers of the lost souls that would ever be desperate enough to come to serenity for a glimpse of light in the darkness. she thought eksya might like it, so she turns back to the trees with another smile. ]

Thank you.

[ and then takes a bite of the muffin with a pleased little hum of appreciation. ]