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

[vixening]

[ the exhale says everything she's been drawing out of him, everything she draws out of him, and every time they return to this spot. this moment. it's a sound of longing, of hunger, of need, and knowing that the source of it all is so close. so very close. her. please, he breathes, as he draws her closer. as she lets him draw her closer.

she tilts that much closer, though not yet closing the gap between their lips. there is still something more she waits for, before then. something she has to know, to hear - because the difference in pure destruction and regeneration and true rebirth lies in the direction, lies in the potential, lies in the aspects that are saved and altered and given new life. not wholly different, just new - a second chance, a new direction.

she waits patiently, right out of reach for him to grasp it. for him to find the final, single moment where she waits for him. where everything he hungers for, reaches for, will be found. the breath that she lets out is merely a brush against his lips, a recognition that she is listening, that she is present, but not yet satisfied.

if this is to work, his memories will be coalescing. they will be coming together like the sand around them, like the wind itself. what she needs to know, though, is which aspects of his previous life will sift through that sand. what will settle, what will be brought forth. she pulls, or rather, she guides him in the direction that he needs to be - that he needs to move in - but it is up to him to follow.

will he search for his sister? will he search for who they all once were? will he find her, somewhere in the midst of it, a step on his journey through?

his next breath leaves her suspended, leaves her hovering, drinking in the shift in his eyes, the drifting colors from black to something else. it feels like suspension, like they are holding somewhere far above the ground itself, waiting...waiting...

and then his hand creeps, finds purchase at the back of her neck and cradles her with a familiarity that rises sharply in her chest, something that feels like hope, something that makes her think-

yennefer.

yennefer's smile is bright. ]

Hello, Cassian.

[ and without another second passing, without another breath exchanged, yennefer closes the distance between them and kisses him - pouring all that she'd been holding back into the single place where they meet. ]

[diametrically]

[ Kissing her feels like nothing short of prayers being answered. As the dust around them whorls Cassian can feel the void in his heart and chest begin to fill. But instead of dust, dirt and sand, something technicolour pulses through his veins setting the stardust that flows through him alight.

It's a ridiculous, really. That the herald known as Brother Dirt is made of something cosmic and ancient and older than time itself. He's almost forgotten it himself that he is a child of the stars as much as Serenity is. Cassian has always been pragmatic about his ending, all too comfortable with the notion that in order for him to fulfill his duty as a herald of the fettered, it must be tied to his oblivion. It is a definite end point. Something he can depend on. Something that he knows to be true every time he crawls up from the dust and the dirt. It's why he's strayed further and further from his kin as the centuries have marched on - because his eventual end brings about pain for those that have been tethered to his life.

So wouldn't it be better not to bother reconnecting like this? To stay out of sight, to have only his presence be known in the whisper of dust in the corner of their domains? The taste of her on his tongue, the scent that envelops him, and the way every fibre of his being is lit up from the inside out says otherwise.

The stardust in his veins and the hunger in his heart knows her. It needs her. Faintly, something in him understands how dangerous of a feeling that is. The call for more, for a dependence on a herald who roams and is as free as he is is a self-fulfilling prophecy. For rebirth and renewal will always happen - but it will always leave too. It will come to an end. But until that time he will hold on. To her. To them.

Time seems to slow and he breaks their kiss only to press more to her cheeks, her nose, her neck. The howling pang of hunger quiets. ]

I missed you. Forgive me for forgetting?

[vixening]

[ the kiss feels a little like satisfaction, like completion, like a coming together. yennefer is well aware of the feeling that her godhood supplies her, what it means when she successful brings back together pieces, provides a direction, allows for the process to happen. and some days it is not as simple, rebirth very rarely is, but where the herald meets brother dirt always feels a little different. not easy, never easy, but more satisfying.

around them the wind continues, the dirt and sand sparking colors, sparking light. she smiles where their lips meet, feeling the birth of stars, of universes, of everything else he encompasses come to pass. the first time that she helped river learn what this meant, how this magic needed to happen, it felt a bit like this - a pulse, a tidal wave, of cosmic energy. it had been near-world shattering, when river had tapped into it all those cycles ago, but now yennefer has learned its pulses, its waves, its pattern. she knows what is easy, for cassian. knows why he acts the way he acts and behaves the way he behaves, a cycle that continues over and over and over again.

but that cycle always leads him here, in the end. drawn in by her powers, perhaps, or maybe something else - threads woven that keep them tied, no matter how often he meets oblivion, no matter how often his sister pieces him back together again.

he hungers for her in these moments, and she revels in it - in the feeling of him wanting her, in the feeling it brings when they collide. she knows the reason that his hunger can't be sated, knows the danger in them coming together always brings, but she can't ever really drag herself from it. not when she knows, in these beginning moments, how far they are from that danger.

they have time, and as their kiss is broken, only for his lips to find her face, her neck, yennefer leans into it, into him, humming content under the attention. ]

I'm sure you can make it up to me. [ her fingers card through the hair on the back of his head, finding purchase, feeling him. ] Though perhaps somewhere else.

[diametrically]

[ All things end, all things change, and all things begin again. This is the beginning, a renewal of a cycle that Cassian understands and is one that he's all too familiar with by now that has become synonymous with Yennefer. He walks towards it without fear, without doubt, because he knows that something inside him understands that this is right. it doesn't occur to him to think of this yearning as an addition. Why would this desire, this need to be filled by her, be unhealthy? Why would it be harmful if it feels right? 

All the hunger, all the longing for something to help fill the void calls to her and her powers, begging to be liberated. To let her rituals clean him.
Consequences are the furthest thing from his mind when her power compels her to him in a way that no one else, no other mortal or god has ever done. 

Her hum of pleasure is like music to his ears. In her presence he is laid low, nothing more than someone to worship her the way she deserves to be. The feeling of her fingers threading through his hair draws a sharp inhale as his lips find the space between her collarbones. His teeth scrap against the supple skin and he has to pull himself together for a moment. He nods.

One moment they're standing in the middle of that town square where mortals have been driven inside because of the sudden, mysterious sandstorm and the next they're in the Godlands. He doesn't remember having a domain of his own, but there's a quiet cabin, one that he knows is secluded, peaceful. Just for them. His reluctance to stop kissing her is palpable but it's a small interlude that he hopes she'll forgive him for. Sweeping her off her feet to carry her through the cabin to the bedroom, he places her on the ground up against the bed before slowly undoing the clasp holding her cloak together never once taking his eyes off of her. Before it even falls to the floor, he's gently slipping off the sleeves of her dress over her shoulders, pressing kisses to the exposed skin there. 

Dark eyes flicker up towards her. ] 

Is this what you had in mind? 

[vixening]

[ and it is the transitions, the change itself, where their power lies. the herald of rebirth finds herself in the midst of it all, always, an announcement of what is to come and what might await you. it does not occur to her that any part of their exchanges, of their dealings, could be wrong - because change, inherently, cannot be wrong. what someone does after that change is upon them, because change itself does not have morals, does not care about what it is that has changed. so yennefer does not care much for it, either - because why should she? why, when cassian returns to her each time? when they come together, just like this, just as she does with all who she cares most for, over and over again?

he arches into her magic, into her power, just as she feels compelled to unleash. letting her chaos explode has always come with moments of extreme change, of extreme reaction, but with him- he can handle this. he can handle her. there is no fear when they fit together, because there is no worry that anything that happens here, anything that either of them are, will turn down the wrong path.

instead, she revels in the feeling - his mouth and hands on her, the privacy of their space, amid the swirling storm. she fills the space with him, but it won't be enough. isn't enough. and she tells him so - and then, in their next breath, they are somewhere else. the godlands, she knows the place instantly, knows this quiet cabin just as she knows him, just as she knows the unexpected routine that follows. yennefer watches him, lets him sweep her up into his arms, lets him carry her back to the room, undo her claps, pull away at the fabric of her dress. she lets him do this, her eyes on him each moment, so that when his eyes flicker up to her as he presses kisses to the exposed skin, all cassian sees is dark purple eyes, pupils wide. ]

Closer. [ though the dark, unrestrained want in her eyes betrays the casualness in her tone. she eases one of her arms entire free from her sleeve and slipping her hand around the back of his neck.

it Feels different, this time. something about the familiarity of this place, the familiarity of him. yennefer feels what would normally be constructed, solid walls begin to ease away, peeled back and away from her. each brush of his fingertips leaves a kind of sensation across the expanse of her skin, something that's he craves, wants, needs more of. faster.

so she lets out another hum, some parts impatient, some parts pleased, as her fingers comb up into his hair. drag across his scalp. ] But not quite.

[diametrically]

[ The feeling of her fingers in his hair scraping against his scalp has him drawing in a breath that can only be exhaled as a shudder into her collarbone. Soon after though it's followed by a chuckle, warm and familiar. This is not about his pleasure or how he feels so much as it is about hers and hers alone. About making amends for his mistakes and making up for lost time. It's a strange concept when they are gods and their time is infinite, only marked by cycles of change and seasons. The prayers they receive never change, and the voices all meld together like a desperate harmony. He's never been good at keeping time to begin with, but that's even more true when he emerges from stardust and dirt. 

None of those things matter though and everything else, the echoes from those desperate for their powers and help fade into the background. All he can focus on - all he wants to focus on - is those violet eyes and the way her desires begin to unfold before him.

He smiles into her skin, hands making quick work of the buttons before tugging the dress down the length of her body. Kisses trail after them in the fabric's wake like a comet's tail and soon enough he's on his knees with the dress pooled at her feet. Taking a hold of her arms he places kisses to the inside of her wrists as he gazes up at her to place them on his shoulders so she can step out of the dress. His eyes have always been black voids save for the moments when galaxies dance in his eyes. Stardust begins to creep in from the corners as he drinks her in, but the look in them is unmistakable: the want she gazes at him with is matched in his. It's a glorious sight, her desire, her unabashed need for something. Cassian didn't think of himself as a jealous god. And he thinks that if she gazed upon another like that, he would simply revel in the sight of her all the same. 

Knowing that she is currently the affection of his desires, of that want - he sees it and he would have more of it. That is the only selfish thing he'll allow himself here. Even as she moves the thought of not having his mouth on her is unthinkable. Lips find the inside of her knees, her thighs, her wrists again as words are murmured into her skin. ]

I don't suppose I'm in any place to ask for some patience, am I? 

[vixening]

[ whether or not this is about his pleasure is not what's on yennefer's mind. rather, she feels her own spark of enjoyment in the ability she has to make him gasp. in knowing that for every cycle they move through, for every decade that passes them by, she still has her grip on this. she still has control of this. he might be made and unmade an endless number of times, dissolved and then formed out of the very dust and stars and night sky around them, they might both be gods - beings of unimaginable power, of endless life, who shape and control the very world around them - but still, she knows exactly where to tug to elicit that sound. the breath, yes, but the chuckle too.

she smiles herself, entertained, enjoying the lightness and warmth and electricity that follows each of his touches, how the very air around them shifts in line, too. she doesn't need to damper her magic around him, and instead lets it fill the very air in waves, the heat spiking when his mouth finds a sensitive spot, the tension in the air thick as her own want builds.

her hand remains in his hair, against the back of his head, as he finishes undressing her - offering no help in the matter, but instead humming her approval with each press of his lips to her skin. he settles to his knees before her as the dress pools around her feet, guiding her hands to his shoulders, and she does step out of it - closer to him, now, and fully nude. she watches, following each and every flash of stardust as it slowly creeps into the corners of his eyes, her curls falling across her shoulders, down her back. if her hair is longer now than it was just moments before, well, that is something he surely remembers - the constant shifting of some of her features, the lightness of the curls as they very subtly hover in the air.

their eyes meet, and it does feel like a maelstrom. the chaos of space itself, finding home, finding purchase, finding them. she can read his wants in his eyes, through his mind, and the next long breath she takes is one of admission. go ahead it seems to say, as she shifts ever so slightly where she stands. and when his mouth finds her knee, her thighs, her wrists again, and the next breath says yes and good and more. ]

Patience? [ yennefer snorts, but doesn't seem entirely against the idea. her head tilts, the curls falling with it, as she combs her fingers from his forehead across his scalp. ] Is not one of my virtues. Make your case and I might consider it.

[diametrically]

[ Cassian wouldn't make her wait more. Not in the way he already had. Not when she had already waited long enough for him to return to have his memories of them piece together so that this reunion could occur. But he knows that this is just another deference to her and to his affection for her because so few could or would be able to keep the Herald of the Fettered bound.

Yet here he is on his knees for her, knowing that even after they left these walls and went about their separate ways, she would always be able to call him back. And he would always happily fall into her orbit. The gravity of her magic, her essence, her - is something he's helpless against, nor does he want to struggle or rail against it. Cassian knew how powerful a chance could be. How powerful hope could be against oppression and forces that felt crushing in comparison. He felt it too and more often than not he took whatever burden he could from those asking for his help so they wouldn't have to shoulder it alone.

But it affected gods too. It left him feeling hollow and empty. Yennefer helped remind him that there was more after destruction. He didn't have to burn himself up with no hope of ever being able to bask in the sunrise he helped worked so hard for.

There's a telltale smile against her skin as he glances up. His mind is open to her without the walls that would normally be there. For someone so paranoid there is only trust. Kisses rise higher up her thighs where they hover just outside the inside of them punctuating his next question. ]

Would you be more comfortable making my case on the bed or with your leg over my shoulder?

[ His hands trace the curves of her body leaving sparks of magic and stars in their wake. How he relishes the sound of her amusement, her confirmation and approval. How he had missed knowing that this is what they could be. How he had missed feeling whole. ]

It's only fair you choose.

[vixening]

[ the concept of waiting has always been an interesting thing for yennefer. back before godhood, because the decades turned to centuries turned to more, she had never been much good for it. it did not matter that sorcerers, back on her original continent, had extended lives. it did not matter that she, herself, had seen eighty years before she'd even known abraxas - because what is eighty years, compared to eight hundred?

the only difference is that patience had never been a simple for yennefer. it is something that has been forced upon her, something she has taken on out of necessity, rather than choice. it had been a required habit, something she learned to slip into, but that some part of her could never quite enjoy. in part, it feels like one of the few remaining connections she has to yennefer of vengerberg, before she became a herald, through and through. perhaps it is contrary, that the herald of change would cling to something of her old self, but- well.

waiting for change has always been difficult, will always be difficult, for all.

but waiting for cassian? she hates it, knowing that it will always come back again. that they have found themselves in a repetitive, repeating cycle of destruction and rebirth, of memories forgotten. some part of her wonders if the rush of this, if the enjoyment will ever lessen - but it has not, yet.

with the herald of the fettered on his knees before the herald of rebirth, their cycle begins again. yennefer watches him, his lips a light brush against her skin, his hands leaving stardust and constellations across her skin, and the very air around them shift. changes. eases in and out of what was old and what will be new, again. and he knows, perhaps better than most, who he is talking to when he gives her the option, the choice to be made.

her smile is sharp, is hungry, and so very, very pleased. ]

There might yet be time for both. [ is what she says, eventually, lifting her hand from his head. letting his hair slip through her fingers and relishing in the grounding feel of it. of him. ] But the bed, first. [ and then, to support her choice, she takes steps back away from him - never letting her eyes leave his, but moving with languid steps back towards the bed in question. ]

[diametrically]

[ When she smiles at him like that he knows he's doomed. It's not so unlike gazing into the sun for she is brilliance molded into the shape of a god, stitched together with magic, promise and hope. Without even trying she pulls parts of him back to her time and time again. And although he ultimately knows his fate for it has been written long before this, this reunion is not a fate he will rail against. He will walk towards the sun with all of his sadness and desire and allow her to burn it all up without any fear for what could possibly come next.

For this is a being who understands what it means to hunger. Who has never judged him for it or pitied him for the state he often finds himself in time and time again. Rather she fills his cup, encourages him, urges him to feed on her. He is not worthy of that attention or the clear affection she has for him that radiates out from her. But he will prove himself worthy of it. He will earn the right to bask in her warmth or be burned if that's what she so chooses.

At the offer of both his eyes flare like a glowing star and as she takes a step back he rises to meet her, pulled along by her gravity. The bed will halt her progress but he wraps his arms around her before she goes too far, one to support her head and neck, the other to guide her gently to the bed so that her legs hang off the side. His lips hang suspended above hers for a moment, ghosting the shape of them with warm breath that creates small sparks to dance in that space between. This is his form of teasing, a small one, but one nonetheless that he offers before he makes his way south leaving similar sparks in his wake while never effectively touching her skin with his mouth.

He's on his knees once again because it seems fitting to make his case on his knees, between her thighs. It's here that his lips begin to work the sensitive skin with his teeth, his lips, his tongue. Once again his hand reaches for hers, fingers threading together like the lifeline that she is as his need for her stirs. Cassian presses a languid kiss that will leave its mark before murmuring - ]

Is this more of what you had in mind?

[vixening]

[ she knows what it is to hunger, which is why she takes so much enjoyment out of feeding him. the feeling that he could be satisfied, that he could be satiated, even for a moment. she knows what it takes to change, knows what it means to be rebirthed, and knows what goes into each of these processes.

and so she fills it, feeds it, because she knows what it is to hunger. and in turn, he comes back to her - drawn to her, pulled to her, and each time he returns it feels like a competition. his hands on her skin, the spark of his starlight, the force of it, the celestial weight of him. she's drawn to him just as she's always drawn to this sort of change, this sort of power, to him. this pull has been there for as long as she can remember, before the two of them were even made into these heralds, these images, but some simple truths remain.

his eyes flare like stars in the night at her offer, at her words, and yennefer drinks in the very sight. he lowers her to the bed and she lets him, arhing up the barest amount as he hovers above her lips. they don't kiss, their lips don't touch, but she can feel the heat of that spark, of his magic. here, they are safe from prying mortal eyes. here, she lets her own power settle into the air around them - shifting, moving, filling the spaces between their bodies - however wide or small, a pressure keeping him close. pulling him closer.

as he slides down her body, she shifts herself - more comfortable, more settled, up on her elbows to watch as he lowers himself down to his knees. it's a good look, for him, for this exchange, for them - it always has been. and then she feels his mouth, and the noise that escapes her is pleased, and the smile that splits her face matches just how widespread the sound is, too. as she spreads out across the bed, falls back to let the spark of his touch, the warmth of his lips, work at her.

his hand reaches for her's, and she slides her fingers between his. squeezes them as she keens, feels the swirl in her gut build and build with his attentions. and she lets him know it - she's never been a particularly quiet type, and even as he murmurs against her, she lets out a laugh - light, airy, loose. ]

You're ah- you're moving in the right direction. [ her legs start to move, her body starting to writhe - slowly, at first, but it's a queue for the overall sensation, for what is building, growing. the room itself begins to blur at the edges as she lets her own control slip, the very shape of the space around them bending with it. ]

probably should have put the nsfw warning up earlier but AH WELL HERE WE ARE NOW NSFW!!

[diametrically]

[ While he hungers, has always hungered, and has always burned and yearned for more, Cassiasn would never consider himself greedy. He has always been selfless to a fault, burning up in the atmosphere in order to create a better tomorrow for the mortals that so many of their kind seemed to think less of. He's never understood why (though that isn't even entirely true because in his moments of madness he has thought of them as nothing more than food to fill the black hole inside of him that demanded to be fed) when they are the reason they exist in this realm at all. Perhaps that's why he fights so hard for them in spite of the odds.

The responsibilities of the Herald of the Fettered are never far from his mind. Even when he returns like this without memories, without knowledge of many of those that he'd come to cherish and hold close to his heart, that truth is something he cannot shake. But here in this room, offering worship to Yennefer, all other thoughts are left at the door. She commands all his attention, and rightly so. Her keens and sighs are the sweetest sound and encourages him, driving the greed and desire in him as his pants tighten. But even that goes ignored. Yennefer's pleasure is his singular focus. The room that shifts around them, the heady power of magic and stardust are of little consequence to him as his tongue draws a long, languid lick against her slick folds. His mouth comes to rest against her clit sucking and swirling against that bundle of nerves with his tongue before pulling away with a satisfied hum at her taste. ]

So more of this? Or -

[ He wets two fingers, coating them in his spit as he slowly begins to them into her while never taking his gaze off of her. ]

More of this?

[ Something wicked gleams in his eyes, purposefully keeping his mouth away from her. She's never been quiet and for that he's always adored her. If she wanted something else she would tell him. Of that he does not doubt. ]