EVENT #7: THE SIGHT

[abraxasmods]

Event #7 - The Sight

go to the OOC event info and plotting post

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The night before APRIL 18, your dreams are disrupted by a vivid image of the same eclipse that occurred last month. The black sun seems to be an endless void in the sky, growing ever darker - until it suddenly opens into an eye that stares straight at you.

When you wake up, much of your night seems a blur except for the vivid dream of that eye. Whether you find it unsettling or try to ignore it, the image is something you cannot get out of your mind. If you ask, you will discover that none of the locals of your faction saw another eclipse. Speak with your fellow Summoned, however, and you may learn that while there was no eclipse that formed over the world, you were not the only one who had this dream.

Of course, dreams don't need to mean anything. You can't feel or see any immediate effects, and nearly everyone around you is going about their day as usual. Maybe you should do the same.

The Awakening

It might happen that very morning or a day or two later. You could be discussing the dream with a fellow Summoned or perhaps you simply brush shoulders with them as you walk by. Whatever it is, as soon as you make brief physical contact, one of you is struck with a sharp pain in your temple that grows into a terrible headache. It's disorienting and painful as the world around you shifts to someplace you may or may not recognize. Like an old film reel, you watch the events of the past play out before you: the past of the other Summmoned. It might be something they would rather hide, a moment of failure or despair, or something they are immensely proud of and brings them great joy - or even a jumble of several images over the course of a person's life. But you see it as if it were real and right in front of you all the same. When you come to, you'll likely find yourself on the ground or bent over, possibly with one or more people around you to see if you're okay. It'll take you a bit to gather your bearings, and the subsequent pounding in your head could last from minutes to hours.

Or, maybe you aren't the one who receives the vision. Instead, as you watch, another Summoned might grasp their head and crumble in front of you. They may go silent or groan in pain. They'll be impossible to shake out of their stupor until it's over. If you ask what happened, they may be inclined to tell you the truth - that you, you were what happened to them.

Or, if your Arcana signs happen to line up in a specific way, you'll see each other in the shared memory itself. You may also find that for certain Summoned, you can help soothe the effects, calm their emotions, or help draw them out of the memory before it consumes them for too long. It's not entirely clear what determines which effect, but one thing is for certain - within each memory, every Summoned as they appear in the past seems to wear the mark of their Arcana somewhere on their person.

For some, they might experience this only once. For others, they might experience it multiple times: with the same person, with several other Summoned, or with a different memory each time. Over the next 7 days, you'll find the Summoned around you are all receiving a glimpse into each other's past, as if the Singularity has awoken an eye within each of you.

Flee for the safety of the Horizon if you want, but you'll find that in there, it's much the same. In fact, inside the Horizon, the other Summoned don't even need to be anywhere near you - just existing in the Horizon space itself together will be enough to possibly set off a headache-inducing vision.

The Factions

What has occurred between the Summoned will not go unnoticed within the factions. While it's difficult to say how faction officials have picked up what's happening, it'll be obvious they do know.

In THORNE, characters will be asked to remain in the castle walls until further notice. Characters will not be allowed to leave the castle grounds, not even to go into the surrounding city, and anyone who is already outside will be requested to not leave again as soon as they return. If asked, they will be told it's for their own safety, given the Singularity is behaving unpredictably and the Summoned have a unique connection to it. Soothing potions and healers are on hand to offer assistance, if anyone is particularly suffering from ill effects.

In the FREE CITIES, characters will find the army by the outposts show more activity than usual. A higher number of guards will patrol the streets throughout the event, particularly in areas frequented by the Summoned. Anyone who publicly and visibly experiences the effects of the memory share (pain, doubling over, etc.) will be offered assistance by the guards. They are generally there to help, but they are also there to maintain order and ensure anyone behaving erratically due to this incident is properly contained. This might include confinement for a day or two if anyone is especially posing a risk, but no one will be punished except in the most extreme cases, as the locals are aware this is not within the control of the Summoned.

In SOLVUNN, the locals will be watching what's happening with a mixture of trepidation and curiosity. Host families and neighbors will be on hand to help with charms meant to offer protection, as well as general care and assistance (soup, blankets, and so on) if your character seems to be especially under the weather or afflicted by the event. Towards the end of the event, more elders and mages will be out and about to check up on the Summoned to make sure they're doing okay. If asked, the mages will say they aren't sure what's going on, but that they are currently divining with the gods and hope to have a definitive answer soon in the upcoming days.

None of the factions appear to be doing much more than keep a watchful eye on the situation - but as the week comes to a close, officials will start making a decision as to what they want to do and how to handle the Summoned who have demonstrated this unforeseen connection to the Singularity.

Comments

[aquaveiled]

[ The woman's face is one she's seen before, if only because she wore if for a while. Back when she had first entered Horizon, bereft of her sense of self, something deep inside her conjured up who she once was. It had unsettled her after, trying to rationalize the change. Though she had never had confirmation of the theory, this memory is, if anything, just that.

But the mood of it leaves Himeka less and less time to dwell on her own insecurities--whether or not she measures up to another standard that she could not have imagined. The way that Hemera and Hythlodaeus interact just seems so...friendly. They're at ease despite the fact that there is very clearly an active volcano nearby.

He's brought something for her...apparently much to the chagrin of their mutual friend. There's a conspiratory tone to the whole ordeal and both are complicit and remorseless. When Emet-Selch--for she would recognize that voice anywhere now--makes his appearance, it seems they are caught in the act. Undeterred all the same.

Emet-Selch is clearly annoyed, but...

It almost feels as if he's in on this too. Albeit unwittingly. Like this is just an old hat for dealing with these two...



When the memory conclude, Himeka finds herself buckled over in Horizon, holding her head as the splitting migraine pounds in full. They're getting worse, she's finding, but leaves that unsaid. No one should be getting these many visions in rapid succession is her guess, but she never thought they would be just as strong in Horizon.

Reaches out to--something, someone, to try and steady herself, the last images of what she'd seen still fresh in her mind. ]

[blackeyedprince]

Yet the answer comes. From behind his back. When Kell turns around, he sees the same man as below, only older. He had the displeasure of getting pulled like this before, but not with another person, and definitely not with someone whose memory he's witnessing. Interesting.

The older version of the man is dressed better, looks all around sharper, back straighter, but there's a weight to his shoulders that his younger version lacks. All clear signs the scene below wasn't the end of it all, rather a beginning of a bigger change.

"Quite enviable end for such dire circumstances." he replies with a nod. "A magical one? What did it do that made them so afraid of it at first, if it proved so beneficial in the end?"

[provenforce]

Rey has a lot of weird and sometimes terrifying dreams, so the dream itself wasn't something she had any cause to find weirder than the nightmares that plagued her her entire life, though she did find herself dwelling on it. Especially when she heard people talking to each other about "the eye." She caught a few conversations as she was headed to breakfast, but was more focused on food.

Then Hennessy grabbed her.

Then Hennessy goes down. Panicked Rey catches her, able to slow her descent to the ground with her own weight.

"Hennessy?" Rey shakes the other woman, but then she feels strange, like someone is sharing her mind. Not quite how she feels when connected to Kylo, or how she felt when Snoke pushed his way in, but she's aware that Hennessy is there, seeing a memory of Rey standing in the snow on Starkiller Base.

Not sure what's going on she tries shaking Hennessy again, as the memory presses at the back of her mind. Fighting for her life, angry, cold, and scared. Fighting Kylo and wanting to kill him. If she'd been more in control of herself, she very well could have.

[nadine_he_loves]

[The memories revealed to Nadine are touching ones. She recognizes Ciri easily, can see the care Geralt had for her already. It was already known, that Geralt had ended up with Ciri through events beyond his control. And that he loved her as his own.

It had been one of the first things Nadine had known of him, in a way. Before she even knew who he was. She hadn't even known who she was at the time.

This strikes a chord with her, an orphan herself, cast out into the world not much earlier than the Ciri of Geralt's memory. She was lucky, so ridiculously lucky.

Nadine's memory continues. Nothing happens at first, and one of the girls asks if that's really it? The first explains that that's how it works, you open the door and the spirits came through if they wanted to. As the two debate about whether or not anything more needs to be said, the planchette moves across the paper.

"Slick move, knock it off," one accuses.

"It's not me. Seriously..."

"Stop playing around!"

As the girls argue - save for the blond girl - the planchette continues to move. They all watch, wide eyed, as a name is spelled out in wobbly block letters. 'NADINE'.

They all look to the blond girl, who's face holds an expression of confused fear. Accusatory looks are cast in her direction. She swears she didn't do it, she wasn't moving it. The others swear the same.

Suddenly the planchette moves with aggressive speed. It pulls the girls with it, their hands looking as though they're being yanked along. One wails that she can't remove her hand. Fear is building quickly. The planchette moves off the paper, jerking back and forth with enough force to carve letters into the wooden floor.

The girls are screaming. The lights flicker. A haunting, masculine voice can just barely be heard over the screaming.

"Nadine...Nadine..."

The planchette flies into the wall, the lights go out, the three girls scatter once released, running out into the hall. When the lights come up, the child Nadine is kneeling in front of the message scrawled into the floor.

NADINE WILL BE MY QUEEN
we are of the houses of the dead nadine]

[provenforce]

Having experienced it a few times now, Rey is aware of when someone is reliving her memories. Not everyone seems to be as aware of it when others are seeing their memories, but Rey's keenly aware of any kind of mental pull.

She follows it, finding a young woman at the edge of her little slice of the Horizon.

Risking touch Rey reaches out and touches her shoulder, trying to pull her out of the memory. The echo of Kylo's lightsaber rings in the back of her mind, but she ignores it.

"Can you hear me?"

[itookashot]

"You're talking to someone who dreamed of being an airship pirate, so." He would love that if she was! But sure, yes, she has the fancy military title which means she's a fancy military person. She reminds him a lot of Nina, who is a military spy but also a very independent and dynamic badass. She might have a title too, he's never asked Nina.

Jesper is very impressed by her amazing ship though. He's the right audience. This is fantastic! Jesper maintains that eager excitement to him as the ship moves and he looks right out the window to see all the walls and skycars, gaping like the tourist he is. Nothing has ever existed like this in his world as far as he knows, it's incredible. It'll be hundreds if not thousands of years before they're anywhere near this.

He is just along with her for the ride, he can't touch or change anything around him, he's simply existing through it "This is incredible. Yes please. Show me everything. Saints you're so lucky, look at all this."

[a_better_man]

[It's awful, what Mat's seeing. Doubly so, as he ought not be seeing it at all. This is private, this is intensely private, and he knows damned well that Rhy wouldn't want him privy to this.

But it's also painfully, uncomfortably familiar. A red stone. That look on Rhy's face...

He can't turn away from it, no matter how he tries.

Mat's own memory follows a similar path. Quick flashes, snatches of scenes.

Mat, shivering and dark eyed on a bed of hay, that same red haired young man lying curled up against his back, promising him that no matter what happened, he'd be there.

Mat, hunched and sweating on a cold evening beside a chopping block for wood. A small girl approaches and he whirls, snarling, hand raised as though to hit the child. He drops it quickly, face melting into an expression of pure horror at himself.

Mat standing in an empty, darkened farmhouse. The shapes of bodies, blood staining their clothes on the floor around him. He's staring up into the darkness of the loft of the house. He raises his dagger, expression intent and haunted.

"I see you," he intones eerily, and a terrible long white face without eyes rushes out of the darkness upstairs.

The chain of memories finishes with that terrible image.]

[falcony]

[ sam, in some strange kharmatic way, almost felt prepared for this. for the hell he went through before due to whatever was going wrong with the singularity, and now this - at the very least, he was able to put together the touching aspect. to know at the very least to try and warn people if they were getting too close.

but that is the problem, though. if he doesn't have time, if he doesn't know someone is coming he can't really stop them. and if he doesn't see ciri until she's right ahead of him, if he's more worried about how pained she looks and the fact she's not really looking for where she's going. all he gets out is a - ] Hey, Ciri, are you- [ and then her foot misses the step, and he's reaching out instinctively when he should know better and her hand finds his arm.

fire, bodies, blood. he can smell the ash and the rot, can hear distant screams of a burning city. the screams of burning tents. the screams of- more. glimpses of boys, of monster, of men. and then it's another scream, but that one's different, very different. then there is geralt, and that stands out for sam, geralt who he recognizes but doesn't. who looks the same, but also doesn't-

the pain is searing, burning, hot. for a moment sam isn't sure if he is really screaming or if it's just his head. he reaches out and steadies himself on the stair handrail, but he does end up bent over, one palm pressed to his brow.

he has no idea what it is ciri saw, if anything at all. from what he's seen or experienced so far, there's no reason rhyme or reason to the exchange. but in that brief moment, she will end up seeing just a bit.

( a house, exactly like the one in the horizon she's visited before. this time, though, there are two kids out front. there's a truck arriving, pulling directly into the driveway, as two boys come barreling off of the porch. there are quiet echoes of uncle sam, uncle sam! as sam gets out of the car. laughs and grins and picks up first the bigger one, under one arm, and then the smaller under the other. on the porch is a woman who looks just enough like sam that ciri can probably tell the family resemblence. there's music, it's probably coming from the house and the windows are all well lit. bright. welcoming. then there are flashes, moments, dinners at the table and chores around the house, sam chasing the boys back out the front door, sam working with them on a large net hunt from the rafters while sarah reads. each time, there is that feeling of being a part of this, of here, of this moment. of things feeling right. ) ]

Ciri- [ his eyes are screwed shut, but he's trying. ] You okay? [ first and foremost. he can get to the rest....after. ]

[cryptsleeper]

[The counter is good. Near by, but not within the immediate realm of danger. Alucard knows that at least that much is a sign that one of them has a few wits about them. Shit. How Jaskier is managing at all feels like a miracle.

But everything else smarts. It makes decision making beyond needing space far harder. Everything is too sharp at once, like a thousand tiny needles piercing through the dhampir's skull.

It fades, all the while letting silence hang in response to Jaskier's question. One that gets a more honest reply.]

I don't know.

[falcony]

Sam should be better at this, really. He just spent the two weeks previous (or maybe it was a little more, maybe it was a little longer) realizing that it was touch that brought this on, that touch is what is setting off all this magic, but somehow he still finds himself here.

Maybe it was Cass, who stepped around a corner too quickly. Maybe it was Sam, distracted by another conversation. It doesn't really matter how it happens so much as they do run into each other, and Sam's (unfortunate) first instinct is to reach out and grab for her, to steady her, and then everything becomes dark and cold.

There's blood, so much of it. He watches it on her, watches the boy leave. They're just children, and still there are the sounds of dogs. Of horses. Of someone coming.

When Sam blinks again, he's back on the streets of Cadens. The disconnect between the snowy forest and the bustling city has him stepping back for a second just to get his balance, and then the pounding begins. He reaches out for something at that point, just to keep his balance - a wall, a stall, anything.

"Ah- Cass. Are you-" He just needs a moment. "Okay?"

[itookashot]

She was my mother. A child version of me is in there too.

[ So a long time ago, but it still hurts. Or maybe it hurts more, fresher than ever, because this is a memory but now it feels real again. Jesper's never fully gotten past the loss of his mother because it is tied up so tightly with other problems that happened as a connection to it. His father's control, his denial of his abilities, the fact this all led to a difficult path he chose.

He takes in a deep breath and lets it out, rubbing a hand across his brow. Jesper is usually the jokester, the comic relief and side kick, that is his comfort zone, but sometimes he can't tap into that lightness. Even for a stranger, who he'd much rather make at ease, than pull into his trauma. It wasn't her fault though, he knows that. He's not angry, just sad. ]

The girl she saved went on to do a lot of good for the place we lived, so she didn't forget the sacrifice. I know she would've liked that.

[ But she would have been disappointed in Colm and in him, that Jesper never followed in the same footsteps. Instead they let fear drive them for the next ten years. ]

[itookashot]

Jesper knows what nervous energy looks like too and how it's not easy to soothe it, so he just sits nearby and lets Mat get out what he needs to. There's no judgment coming from this end, as if he would have any leg to stand on, although the one thing Jesper never did was leave his friends. But everyone has their own bad moments, and Mat's probably not done Jesper's worst ones. He can tell this is a haunting experience.

"That fast? Damn." Jesper has no idea what he would do. Probably roll with it, as he does most things, but mentally, that can mess with someone. Even people used to shrugging things off. "So you didn't go with them because you thought you'd mess it up?" Seems perfectly reasonable if very flawed logic to him!

Memory 12

[provenforce]

Rey isn't watching where she's going as she walks through the castle halls. She's distracted, listening to the Force as she tries to find answers for whatever's been happening. It isn't helpful, and her ability to divine things has always been inconsistent, but it is distracting enough that she doesn't see the young man in the hall until she bumps her shoulder against his.

"Sor-" she barely manages to get out before her head feels like it's splitting open and she falls to the floor. Her body, at least. Her mind is already swept up in the memory, which changes so fast at first that she can't keep track of it. She recognizes the young man she just bumped into but little else at first.

“Thanks for the focus. I couldn’t do that without you here,”

Hennessy. They must know each other.

Rey closes her eyes, trying to focus, trying to end the memory, pull herself out of it. But she's a helpless bystander, along for the ride.

[earthborn]

"Not the first time I've seen something like this," Shepard replies, by way of comfort. She's not going to judge him, one way or another; nor does she venture an opinion. It's brutal, likely pointless, or if it isn't then it's to some point neither of them would likely choose, and in any case: there's no changing it, "I keep hoping it'll be the last."

Rain beating against the glass, blue shadows, grey light. The chair— the memory of Bucky scream muted around the mouthguard again. Shepard breathes, deliberately slow. He's not the only one who'd like to move on.

"I'm gonna make a guess here. Some kind of... human weapons project, right?"

[hextechhead]

Jayce wishes all the time he could go back. Not to this minute, though, to later, when he and Viktor proved the theory and the entire world seemed ahead of them, unstoppable. Those were the good years full of discovery and excitement, brilliance and fun, before the weight of the world fell onto Jayce's broad shoulders and kept pressing down until he was ready to break.

"I really thought it was over after this, but my partner was there, we didn't know each other then, he approached me later and helped me solve the problem. Together we finished it." Viktor saved his life. Jayce glances over at the crowd and he finds Viktor, pointing at him. It's dark in the rest of the room, but he's in some of the light. In case Kell ever comes across the other engineer later. Jayce is always so quick to give Viktor every ounce of credit he deserves, since he knows he's the only one who ever would.

"Magic has always been in the hands of people born to it, and they have not always used it well. So anyone who could never imagine having magic themselves, fear its power. Until we proved anyone could use magic, with the right tool." So it was a question of access. Once Hextech existed, magic was less terrifying or alien, it was real and it was there. And normal people could see it right in front of them. Jayce is pensive. "A mage saved my life when I was a child, my mother and I were going to die, and he teleported us to safety. I loved magic, I just wanted everyone else to see what I did."

The beauty more than the power. The wonderful things it could do, in the right hands.

[a_better_man]

"Blood and fucking ashes..."

Mat comes back to himself clutching his head, the pain lingering though the memory has left him. It's not as bad as when it first hit, though, so that's something. He'll take anything, at this point. Why does it have to hurt so much?

Oh. Light. Kell. Still here, of course. What the hell is the social protocol for this type of situation?

"Ah...sorry about that?" Does Kell even know what Mat's seen? Should he tell him? He thinks he'd want to know...

[earthborn]

[Diana pls. She's not trying to be nice, she's trying to be gay at you. Not that you're making it all that easy to get annoyed, what with the... the enthusiasm. There ought to be a law against this kind of thing.]

I've been to a few planets. [A lot of planets.] I got there in my Ship, Normandy. And uh...

[she glances back the way she came. How... the hell does this place work, honestly. Ah well, if she just retraces her steps, it ought to get her back to where she started, right?]

...Do you want to see?

[gynvael]

[ His ears ring. It feels like hours have passed, but it must've been seconds, minutes. He reaches for her in return, brows drawn together. Everything tumbles—not only their little trip through his head, but hers. The piles of corpses.

She doesn't know it's what he saw. He doesn't yet bring it up. Part of him is still processing it—trying to separate it from the memories of his own childhood. ]

Yeah. What about you? [ They've both been better, he supposes, but he knows this is. New. For her. And he hadn't meant to send her delving into his memories, but as disorienting as it is, he's simply relieved she didn't see anything far worse. There are darker images living in his head than...that. Men after Ciri. He regrets a number of things in his life. Keeping Ciri safe no matter what has never been one of them.

He rises to his feet, offers Julie a hand to help her to hers. Some hesitation lingers—like it might spark another vision once again—but he's fairly certain it's over. For now, at least. He hasn't any idea how long this is meant to go on, if it can even stop. It's been one day and he's already fucking tired. ]

[earthborn]

"Well, I coulda done that," Shepard grouses, impressed despite herself, and annoyed about that fact. It was in her to declare that it didn't count, for a dozen equally valid reasons; he wasn't obeying the laws of gravity, wasn't wearing a hardsuit, wasn't even of a species with this galaxy, wasn't—

Wasn't relevant, any of it, because none of this was actually happening, despite her persistent, instinctual urge to stay in cover. It was another of those damned visions, flashbacks, whatever you'd call them. And even if it had, pointing out that kind of thing after the fact didn't usually work; it wasn't subtle, but something about this guy made Shepard sure that he was used to doing things the Krogan way.

"Soveriegn," She looks up; never a wise move, but just the same, he had asked, "A Reaper. Personal enemy of mine. We're about to kill it, once we get up there."

She gestures with her gun, up ahead, past the rushing waves of Geth Primes and brainwashed Krogan, husks, and though he wasn't visible; Saren himself.

"This was a couple years ago. These are a pain in my ass."

[earthborn]

"Luck's got nothing to do with it," Shepard admonishes, though her tone is amused. She's not immune to a compliment, for the sake of morale if nothing else, "I had to bust my ass to get this ship. It's the finest post in the fleet."

They disembark. It's an odd, almost blurry affair; maybe that's not surprising. How many thousands of times had she gone through the decontamination routine? It all sort of blended into one memory, after a while.

Then it's white offices, clean and open and sterile, a twisty little hallway, the Asari at Reception and...

Big Place!

And there it was in all its bright and beautiful glory: the presidium commons. The sky is, as always, summer-blue with gently roaming clouds, and the horizon bending up and away behind it, following the donut-curve of the presidium itself. And everywhere, the fountains, the greenery, the people. Humans, yes, a handful dotted here and there, but Asari, Turians, Salarians, even the odd Elcor with their slow, careful plodding. One hanar stood, iridescently shouting, his voice visible even at this distance.

"Oh shit, the preacher guy," Shepard mutters, "I almost forgot about him. Stubborn ass."

[gynvael]

[ He makes a noncommittal grunt. He only told Vesemir. The others, he rarely said much about Jaskier. It isn't that Jaskier is not important. But in the same way Geralt had said almost nothing about Yennefer, they are a part of his life that he leaves behind when he returns to Kaer Morhen. That's why they go there in the winters. To rest, but also to shut out a world more complicated than any of them would prefer, a world they do not belong in no matter how many friends they may find on the path. ]

We don't like any outsiders. [ That's the truth. Within the halls of Kaer Morhen, anyone not a Witcher was an outsider. As welcome as Triss may be amongst them, even she was looked on with some uncertainty from time to time. Outsiders destroyed their kind. Most out in the world would rather see a Witcher dead than not. It isn't really something that can be forgotten.

Really, that they allowed Jaskier to sleep within the walls says more than anything. And he knows it's in large part because they recognized the bard as Geralt's own, if not theirs.

He shakes his head. ] There isn't a pattern. All I know is they have an uncanny tendency to strike fucking close to home.

[techmaturgy]

[He's less distressed at the the thought of Wanda seeing glimpses from his past than he might other people. At the very least, he trusts her to understand, which he finds surprisingly refreshing. Her honestly is also helpful, and he doesn't seem so upset by the fact that she's seen something, especially not when she tells him what it was.]

Ah. You got one of the good ones.

[Implying, of course, that there are other, not-so-good ones. Hers certainly wasn't good, but he can get to that in a moment. Viktor plans to be honest with her, in turn. It's only fair.

He smiles a little more genuinely, at the memory, making it clear that it's a fond one, for him. Beautiful, yes, Viktor nods.]

We proved his theory, that night. Harnessed magic. [And then, something of a wry grin--] Nobody thought it could be done.

[funbreaker]

[ It's not exactly a warm welcome, not that Thancred can blame Wanda for that. He nods at her question, not wanting to alarm her in any way. ]

My apologies for wandering in. I wasn't certain this place belonged to you, but since I happened upon it, I thought I should check.

[ It does appear that she would rather be left alone, though, and he can understand why. If their experiences have at all been the same — and he doesn't see why they wouldn't be — then she's potentially been through some harrowing visions. To say nothing of reliving her own past. He may not know much, but based on their first chat, there'd been enough implied for him to gather that she hasn't had the easiest life. ]

Outside of the Horizon I've had a number of... encounters, with other Summoned, wherein we shared our memories. It was becoming a bit tiring, so I thought I would try my luck in here instead.

[ So far so good, but he knows that isn't bound to last long now that he's run into someone else. Suffice to say he's keeping his distance; keeping his hands to himself. ]

I can continue on, though. It's probably for the best that I do.

[ He takes a step back. ]

[cointosser]

[He sighs. The answer is as forward as any of Geralt's, but some part of him doesn't like it. (All right. All of him. Of course Jaskier wants everyone to like him, he's wonderful! Even horrible, pretty Witchers.)]

So you would've kicked me out into the snow of the mountains eventually, is what you mean.

[He teases. No, even if he hadn't, Jaskier knew he would not have lingered long. He had priorities, his duties to attend to... and he would not stay where he was not wanted. As an outsider. Life was too damn short.

Bet he could've made the Witchers love him, though. Given enough time.]

And you? No headache yet? Nothing... nothing of mine?

[londonbound]

Mat is treated to a few more scenes in quick succession, increasingly jumbled, either as their connection fades or as Rhy's grasp on his own memories does.

( Kell lunges at him, unshackled now, wrists bloody.

"What do you plan to do now, Kell? You won't hurt me, not as long as I'm wearing your brother."

"But I will." Lila appears, floating on an eerie black smoke outside the balcony. The crack of a gunshot. An echo of pain, Rhy's leg buckling. He forces himself back to his feet despite the blood.

"Give me the stone," he says, "Or I will kill the prince."

Rhy's own hand holds the dagger to his chest. Rhy's own hand drives it in, all the way to the hilt.

The last thing Mat hears is Kell's scream. )

--and then, they are both in the hallway again, a tangle of limbs and matching headaches. Rhy groans, scrambling backward blurry-eyed and disoriented, trying to disentangle himself from Mat.

"Sorry-- Mat, I'm sorry," he gasps. For accidentally running into him. For seeing something he shouldn't have seen. For anything Mat saw in return.

He is shaking, the images dumped in his mind a jumble still trying to sort itself out. That look he'd seen in Mat's eyes and the way his voice had clearly not been his own, that dagger, leaves Rhy feeling clammy and sick. He presses the back of one hand to his mouth, breathing hard.