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

[thearchangel]

Sorry, Nadine, it's reflex. Memory or no, years of training still dictate his actions. He sees a threat - he reacts. If he'd had a gun, he'd probably have drawn it. Come to think of it, can he even get a firearm here? No - think about that later.

"Old habits," he tells her, at her explanation. It comes out a little sheepish. Because, yes, it's really absurd to try and defend someone from their memories. He even ducks his head a bit, scratching at the scarred side of his face.

A long story, she says. No kidding. She says Biblical God and devil and quite honestly, Garrus' experience with those has been limited to the occasional human vid and, well. Legion. A geth platform. Garrus grimaces.

"I know a geth platform who took its name from your Bible," he admits. "Which probably means about as much to you as 'devil' means to me."

[princessvegas]

[ Julie sighs and flings her arm over her eyes. She understands what Nadine is saying. Really, she does. But she also spent months in Flagg's orbit, watching, listening. While people rarely said no to him, he also wasn't someone who refused to listen to objections. He could be pragmatic. Wanted to keep his inner circle content. And he forgave transgressions. Sometimes.

The whole thing still doesn't make sense. It feels like pieces are missing. But neither does it matter, at this point. What's done is done, and it was done long ago.

She blinks into her elbow. Yeah, she knows there was something that he did to people. She knows because she saw Lloyd break free from it. Heard about Nadine doing the same. It was like flipping a switch, going from full faith and belief to doubt and guilt, rebellion. And Julie doesn't know what it says about her that she never felt that flip. Not like they did. ]

It ain't fucked up. We all did.

[itookashot]

"Be careful," Jesper hisses, looking around at the attention they're getting. "This place isn't exactly Fjerda, but they don't love magic the way Thorne does." And while anyone who is a Grisha knows magic isn't the right word for it, and Grisha hate that anyone uses that word, it is in essence what it would appear to for everyone else. That's why Jesper never bothers correcting it. It looks like magic. That's what they'll see.

He does let her pull him though. She doesn't seem dangerous, just pissed off, and so he's wary but not aggressive about it. His reference to Fjerda confirms he is absolutely from her world, but he is still looking at her with no recognition, eyebrows furrowing. "I don't know who you are, but if you're talking about the ice prison, the only Grisha there were trying to kill me, and they were puppets for the Fjerdans." He's guessing from the memory thing, he's only been in one prison, so he's trying to put it all together.

"Though, it wasn't entirely their fault, I'll admit, but you couldn't really reason with them." If the question is does he feel guilty for killing them, absolutely, he does. It was life or death and he chose life, but he knew neither of them chose to be experimented on.

[itookashot]

Jesper would really like to stop feeling like his brain is going to snap off and roll down the floor. He shouldn't be in the Horizon if he wanted to avoid it, but nothing really feels safe. He lets Anakin help stabilize him, it's not as if it matters whether they're touching in here, it won't make it happen here, or stop it from happening.

"Clearly. It was giving me flashbacks to every political conversation about the warring nations in my world that I've just walked out on." He had that luxury! Ravka and Fjerda were trying to kill each other, and Kerch more or less hung out in the background. Inevitably, if Fjerda won he would absolutely be hunted down and murdered, so he was somewhat aware of the situation, but not enough to get involved.

"Why are all politicians the same? They've got these very condescending vibes." He hates politicians, and in his case, merchants are the politicians, and they're definitely annoying. Except for the one he loves.

[photophobic]

[It's a good question, and on some level Kylo appreciates the shift away from the topic of his mother's feelings— which were far from indifferent. He remembers that much very well. His mouth tugs at a corner.]

The battle? Good and evil. What is any war ever about?

[His bitterness suggests he knows full well which side of that particular binary he falls, as far as most most people are concerned. In a game of Shah-tezh, if your opponent chooses to play white, you must play black. Kylo's always felt his role was decided for him in much the same way.]

It was a small part of a longer conflict with a... complicated history. That convoy was the last of the Resistance fleet, and my task was to eliminate them before they could find another planet to hide behind and rebuild their forces. But it's irrelevant, here. All of it.

[nightwash]

Ben. Why has Ronan never heard that name before? Ben. Kylo answers to it, his expression shedding its practiced indifference as he finally looks at Rey. She's telling him, "When we touched hands, I saw your future. Just the shape of it, but solid and clear. You will not bow before Snoke. You'll turn." And then she leans in, adding in a whisper, "I'll help you."

Ronan's heart hurts. He can't tell whether it's his own hurt or a part of the memory. Why has he never heard about any of this? All this time, he's been calling Kylo by the wrong name. Imagining the wrong life. All this time, and Ronan knows nothing, while this girl knows everything.

Kylo is countering, "I know when the moment comes, you'll be the one to turn. You'll stand with me." And Ronan — though he feels like he's been blind until now — can see that this is a wish, not a prophecy.

Ronan laughs, bitter and humorless, when the doors of the elevator open to reveal a blood-colored throne room. He's seen echoes of it in the Horizon, in Kylo's domain, and he had always imagined it as a reflection of Kylo's own throne. How stupid he feels, that he hadn't considered the seat belonged to someone else before Kylo. The power of his position had been obvious to Ronan, but not the evil that came with it. It's taken this ridiculous, cartoonish display to open Ronan's eyes. He's been such a fool.

[solmate]

[ Alina's chin tips forward, the hair on the back of her neck bristling like a feral dog. She'd rather not Kylo try to be cryptic here to spare her feelings. She can only assume what he saw. A man taking, trying to contain and harness something that's wild and uncatchable. Like his wall, she thinks, but that didn't stop him from trying. ]

Tell me what you saw.

[ Does it matter which one specifically? Probably not. Regret is written across all of them. Still, she wants to know. ]

[itookashot]

"Know what, that you could be the chosen one for good or evil back home? Why would anyone care here?" Jesper figures they've all more or less restarted their lives here, for better or worse. Whatever Mat was fated to do, he can't do it here, so it's null and void. He reaches out to take Mat's hand and squeezes it.

"If those are your friends, they know you, and they'll understand eventually." Jesper for all his flaws has managed to surround himself with people who get him, and see his problems head on. He can't imagine Mat's friends knew him so little that they couldn't understand why he'd struggle with all this pressure on his back.

"I've got powers. Not end of the world powers, probably, but just having them doesn't make you anything other than special."

[itookashot]

Witch hunters, they find people with special abilities and murder them quite cheerfully. As many as they can.

[ Jesper wouldn't say he's ever felt true hate in his heart, there are times with Jan Van Eck he's gotten there, but that's the closest. But sometimes it bubbles up, the anger and fear, because Fjerdans are the boogey men. The people who want everyone like him dead. Hard not to have some spite toward them. ]

In this case, they were experimenting on Grisha instead, they had this drug that addicts them into doing anything the Fjerdans want. We went in there and took out the person who knew how to make the drug.

[ That wasn't entirely what they thought they were doing when they broke in, the whole plan wasn't in sight in the beginning, like a lot of their jobs. But when they actually figured it all out, and gut Kuwei, it started to become clearer. Kuwei isn't in this memory because he was with Kaz and the others, who they were going to meet up with. It is definitely comforting to watch the cannon burst again and hit defenses down.

Jesper has no idea what to call the 'network' either, no one has given him an exact name for it. It's just what they all know to be like sending letters to each other instantly. He loves it, even if it's distracting for his eyes. Her tail whishes and it's adorable. The scales are beautiful too, it all really suits her, now that he can see it. ]

I did! I was talking about the other dragon person Goro, and he said he knew you. But that I had to see for myself.

[ Jesper whistles at her playfully and gives a thumbs up and a wink. ]

I have not failed once in my quest.

[nightwash]

"Whoa, hey..."

Neither of them are fully clothed, but it's been a long time since Ronan gave a damn about modesty with Hennessy. It's her panic that has him alarmed, the possibility that he fucked up and let his guard down and she's paid the price for it again. He leans closer, searching for any wounds, and he's forgotten all about the first dream until Kylo says it.

That's right.

"I saw it, too," Ronan adds. "But it didn't come out. You're okay."

[chosenfordarkness]

It takes him a moment to form his rebuttal, floundering in the wake of someone criticizing the Chancellor from the outside. Anakin had never really gotten that vibe from him, Palpatine had always been supportive of him, offering him help where he knew the Jedi couldn't- or wouldn't.

"Most of them are, but he's not like that. He's just very critical with good reason. The Jedi were only going to destroy the Republic." If only he'd seen that sooner and not played into the hope that the war might be over soon. "He's supported me when no one else would and didn't try to squander my potential."

[carmesi]

Of course there would be a witness to her memories, this one in particular, and she is tense. Wanda steps away from Goro as he approaches, even if, within this memory, he can't hurt her or attempt anything, but his presence reminds her very much of Thanos.

Besides, she doesn't want to be 'studied', told what her powers are, what they can do.

As there is nothing but the echo of destruction, drowning Goro's question, the memory promptly fades, with destruction and fire overhead, of the ships getting destroyed. That would be when Carol Danvers showed up, using her powers to give them a breather from the overhead attack.

"He came to our planet, thinking he could just take from us," she grits her teeth. Thanos is gone—dead—but she still hates him. Her resentment has deep roots.

She huffs, a cynical laugh.

"He is dead now."

[a_better_man]

"S'not your fault," Mat manages, groaning. Oh light, that had been a lot. He shifts, extricating himself and sitting with his back against the wall. He tips his head back, breathing heavily, head still pounding.

Alright. That had happened. Nothing to be done for it now.

He has a great deal of questions. But also enough sense to not start asking them here and now.

"So," he continues, not quite looking at Rhy as he speaks. He has to let him know what he saw, he can't just leave that untouched between them. Someone he wasn't as close with...oh yes, he'd lie and leave it and pretend he never saw anything terrible and traumatic. But not with Rhy.

Anyhow. He can relate. As fucked up as that is.

"Looks like we've got something in common. Dark magic getting into your head's a bitch, innit?"

[aquaveiled]

Himeka holds her head, willing the headache to ebb, though she knows it will linger for a while. It's hardly comparable to what this young woman has gone through, of course. Though she does feel guilty in instances like this...to know things of someone's past that they may not want to share.

Looking over to Inej--the real Inej now that the vision has subsided, that guilt shows on her face. Inej doesn't seem surprised.

"You were on a ship...and there a woman who--..."

She doesn't even want to say it.

[princessvegas]

[ Julie feels like she can't breathe. Wanda tries to reassure her, but she doesn't know, doesn't know that this can and will hurt again. The only difference is that, now, someone else has to see it happen too. She lets Wanda hold her hand but it's like she's checked out, fixated on her doppelganger.

The memory Julie, face somewhat clean, takes a deep breath, obviously steeling herself for what she has to do next. She walks into the hall, enters a room just a few doors down, and the real Julie follows her, dreamlike. It's a bedroom, with wood paneled walls and dated furniture. The kind of bedroom belonging to people who haven't been able to afford anything new since they moved in twenty years ago. Though the blinds are closed, light still seeps into the room between them.

On the bed, there are two bodies, a man and a woman. Both of them clearly lived a hard life, but the most notable thing is that they're swollen almost past the point of recognition as people. Their necks are huge, filled with fluid, their faces pale with dark circles around the eyes. Luckily, Julie had cleaned all the foul mess off of them before she went outside, delicately washed their faces, wiped down their skin. There's a bowl with a cloth on a bedside table, the water inside murky and thick.

The real Julie, clad like a club-going pixie, watches herself, tears already running down her cheeks. Memory Julie takes something off the dresser, sits on the mattress next to the woman and lifts her head as gently as possible. ]

It's gonna be okay, Mama. [ It's whispered, thick with emotion. Julie gingerly puts red lipstick on her mother's distended mouth, softly brushes her hair into place. Placing her mother back down, she goes to the other side, fusses with the buttons on her father's shirt. She opens a drawer on the nightstand and takes out a folded knife, carved and ornate. Clearly meaningful. She slides it into his pocket, then kisses his forehead. Sniffling, she stands and swipes at her face. There's a sort of awkward pause, like she's trying to figure out what to do next, then she takes a sharp breath and rolls her eyes to the ceiling. ] Well, y'all always told me what Jesus said, right? "He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live, and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die." So y'all are okay. I love you. I reckon that, the way things are goin', I'll probably see you pretty soon, but... well. C'mon.

[ It's here that she runs out of steam, wipes at her face with her palms again, then comes back to her mother. Bending, she loops her arms under the body's, tries to lift it off the bed, but can't. She only raises her mother's upper half a few inches, bends her slightly at an odd angle, then slips on the carpet and drops the body again. Both corpses are so full of fluid that they jiggle slightly, like gelatin.

Julie stands back a moment, jarred. She obviously had not planned for her inability to carry them. She breathes out a soft, "Umm...", then nods to herself, trying to restructure her plan. Moving to the foot of the bed, she grabs the bottom of the sheet, tries to pull them to the floor so she can drag them outside. The bedsheet moves a tiny bit, but then she slides again, falls on her backside, bumps her head on the wall. After a second of shock, she tries once more, falls again. Tries another time. She grunts and gasps with effort, doesn't succeed in more than pulling them almost to the foot of the bed. Her forehead is damp with perspiration. She lets go, leans back against the wall and bends over, her hands on her knees, then abruptly leaves the room.

The real Julie can remember what her thought process was at this moment. She thought she would grab some water, figure out a plan. There had to be something she could use as leverage, she just needed to go to the shed. She follows her other self's steps as if in a trance, back to the kitchen.

There is a brief beat where it seems like the memory Julie is trying to get her bearings. She puts her hands over her mouth, stares into space thoughtfully, and then it's like she loses whatever had been holding her together, keeping her upright. She can't make herself get to one of the chairs; she just sort of folds to the ground, sits with her legs criss-crossed and rests her elbows on her thighs.

For a long minute, everything is quiet. Distantly, outside, there's the sound of a single bird tweeting. Both Julies have been crying the whole time, but the memory Julie presses her face into her hands and begins to sob, having completely depleted the small reserves she's been drawing on. The sounds become more and more desperate, animal, raggedly pulled from the deepest part of her.

Real Julie, shaking uncontrollably, tries to run from the kitchen, out the back door, her own howls following her. But as she hits the back step, she's not at home anymore, not in the familiar setting Kansas sun. She's in Wanda's cabin, gulping for air, fingers clawing at the arm of the chair she's in. ]

[monomachy]

[As her past self and Steve move through the city, she walks along with them, the street fading behind her as they go. A baby!, she exclaims, and she lets out a little, breathless laugh at the way Steve corrals her, exasperated. That one's not made of clay. He hadn't believed her, not yet, but she hadn't been bothered by it. Amazons had been away from the world of men for so long, and their lives and memories were short. She couldn't blame him for not knowing.

A shred of doubt surfaces at Dante's dismissal, but she's a little too overwhelmed by being here to focus on it for too long. Instead, she takes his hand to shake, a greeting she's finally starting to get used to.]

I'm Diana. [She looks again to the pair walking away from them, and smiles a little bit.] But you probably figured that out.

[nadine_he_loves]

"Uh...yeah, that means nothing to me."

Some kind of video game, maybe? Nadine isn't about to ask, there's no need to confuse any of this any further.

"Okay, so, here's a really short and basic explanation for context. In my world there are forces much greater than mankind, usually unseen, that are tied to and get involved with mortals. They're opposing forces, and we understand them as God - the great force that's responsible for good and order and that sort of thing - and the Devil - the force of chaos and bad things. Both of them have...underlings, you could say. Angels for God, demons for the Devil. They also are very powerful and tied to and get involved with mortals. What you just saw was my first experience with one of those forces."

That's pretty understandable, she thinks. And puts across the main points without any of the messy details.

"It's mystical magic stuff," she adds, for further clarification.

sorry for the delay!

[carmesi]

[wanda could not create, within her wildest imaginings, a world so beautiful, so rich. there are foundations of marble and stone, colorful, but lush greenery that speaks of some unfathomable freedom, as the skies above open to an infinite blue. water sits at the edges of what she sees, ocean foam and salty breeze. she has never seen a world like this, not within the confines of landlocked sokovia nor the four walls she was allowed to be in the united states.

it feels like she's walked into someone else's domain, so wanda doesn't think much of it, when a child races past her into an open street. it is only when the child doesn't crash against her legs that she realizes it might just be a memory after all.

still, she follows, hoping to race along the child (never quite catching up), if only to see more of this world.

diana, she learns is her name, and everyone is so kind to her. she seems to be the only kid in the vicinity—and it takes wanda a moment to realize that there are only women around. there is a plate of food, and wanda wishes she could take one herself too.

she follows the laughs, unable to keep herself from smiling, too, through the back door—

only to end up pulling away from the memory entirely, her footing just about lost, stumbling out of it precariously close to the edge of the cliffside. had she been actively running? she can smell salty breeze, feel it on her skin, but it's the sharp pain on her temple that pushes her backward on her feet, taking a few stumbles, forced to sit on the ground. wanda pinches at the bridge of her nose, trying to nurse the pain, unawares of the adult diana became sitting nearby on the same cliff.]

Ah... [wanda laments with a groan] Not again.

[monomachy]

[Diana knows it was the right choice, the only choice. But losing the only family she might have had outside the Amazons had still left an unexpected and deep wound, one she's worked hard not to acknowledge. Hearing the young woman say aloud what Diana herself knows is a sort of excision she hadn't known she'd needed. A noise catches in her throat, one of grief held back by determination, and she shakes her head, the movement jerky.]

He would not have.

[She had known as much, the moment they had held the Lasso of Hestia at the same time. It had shown her the truth of his heart, how deeply he had believed in his purpose and that he would do anything to achieve his goal.

She can no longer think about that battle, the losses she'd suffered, and though it is wrong of her to pry, she asks:] Did you escape those men?

[gynvael]

The Moirai? [ His arms fold across his chest as he regards her, curious. She seems so cheered by the memory, it's the first time Geralt doesn't weigh what questions to ask over the subject. ] I didn't, either, at first. Then I realized protecting her meant teaching her to fend for herself.

[ He'd only ever brought Ciri to Kaer Morhen to keep her safe. Not to train her. Then the walls had practically crumbled around them overnight. He doesn't regret it, putting a sword in her hands. Not when Ciri took to it like a fish to water. Maybe he just regrets the circumstances that led him to do it at all. But it is what it is. At least it means here, now, he worries a little less about her wandering the desert alone.

A small pause passes. A few more people shuffle by them, the sun growing hot in the sky.

Fuck it. If they're going to talk— ] Drink?

[photophobic]

Kylo offers Anakin a thin, tight-pressed smile. They're both aware enough to know that the door even opening proves Kylo already decided he wanted his grandfather's company— but the courtesy is a fine touch. It's something of a relief for Kylo, too, feeling the same anxious disquiet he's been wrestling with all this time reflected back. Of everyone, perhaps Anakin knows best of all the strange, floating dread that comes with fearing your past uncovered.

Past, future. It's much the same, when you know for a fact that destiny is as real as it is unavoidable.

"No. Not at all. I haven't been doing anything important for some time."

If anything, he's forced to admit if only to himself— he's been hiding.

[chosenfordarkness]

They're still figuring out each other's boundaries, and Anakin doesn't want to tarnish this relationship by being overbearing. He's a lot and he understands that, but also unapologetic about it. Why would he be? He feels that same emotion swirling around him in the Force, though he knows the feeling may be worse than projected. Kylo's control of himself still astounds him sometimes.

Anakin hums in agreement, sitting nearby. "It's about the same for me, I'm finding it hard to concentrate on much else." He sits quietly, studying Kylo's face, the lines of tension in his back. "I had an interesting conversation recently."

exists in the delay-zone. sorry!

[carmesi]

[in the same breath that ciri feels that current of pain, wanda too falls to her knees on her end of the horizon—groaning as she holds her head, trying to diminish the pain entirely. but her magic doesn't work, especially when she can't focus, memories taking over as she finds herself in a world unknown.

all this without realizing her own memories spilling into someone else.

abruptly, her world stops. she cannot think, she cannot focus her magic. something is amiss, and that emptiness, that pain, it caves in quick, collapses all sense of restraint as realization slams into her: pietro is dead. the world around her is devoid of sound and color—why should she even go on, if he's dead?

wanda's legs give as she falls to her knees, her own scream not reaching her ears. she's immediately swept by sorrow, grief. she drowns under the weight of it, and her magic responds. waves of scarlet explode from within her, disintegrating every body that surrounded her.

emptiness. utter—unfathomable—emptiness.

she cannot remember the steps she's taken, or how she's even arrived here. all she remembers if finding herself walking along the length of the bus the robotic ultron lies in, festering in his own circuits gone awry.

wanda. if you stay here, you'll die.

her face holds contempt, pain, the kind of listlessness from someone who has nothing to lose. who cares not for death.

i just did. you know how it felt?

scarlet pulses from her fingers, fighting against the vibranium core, removing ultron's heart with surprising ease.

it felt like that.

and yet this pain, it persists, her hands shaking, her anger remaining, absolutely nothing to hold on to, to cling to.]

[photophobic]

Kylo stills entirely at those words, everything he has pouring into maintaining control. Instinctive.

"Did you," he prompts after a taut pause. "One I should be concerned about?"

[chosenfordarkness]

"I did. With your--" Hmm. How did he even describe what Rey was? It was probably complicated regardless. He waves a gloved hand in dismissal of the wording.

"Rey."