abraxaslogs | EVENT #7: THE SIGHT

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EVENT #7: THE SIGHT

Event #7 - The Sight

go to the OOC event info and plotting post

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[The doors behind Old Public Hall are locked with the sunset. Enchanted, bespelled, made a challenge to break into unless one happens to be from 1400s Wallachia or know much about Dracula.

The past two days were strange workdays for reasons that became quickly all too personal. To see a happy memory or two was all well and good, but the occurrences put Alucard on edge. Tonight would have a quick meal and then see the dhampir off to his graveyard home, quiet and trying not to think too hard about recent events.

While walking Alucard is aware he is moving fast. Not vampire speed, but with a coal in his shoe. It runs the risk of bumping into others.

At the Surly Wench he has tucked himself into a corner of the bar which is rapidly filling up. Good for business, but bad for what is yet to come.

Regardless of where he is, the immediate reaction is to let out a perhaps too feral hiss.]

Do you mind?

[ Despite her high awareness of her surroundings -- even more paranoid lately, after an unpleasant experience earlier -- there is only so much Ciri can do in a crowded street. Later, she might be angry. Say Alucard should have been paying more attention. Curse the stupid coincidence that put them in the same small side street at the same time and far too close together.

She hears him coming, and in her anxious tension, she automatically reaches for her dagger. Realizes belatedly who it is, but it's too late. A brush by is enough.

A lot happens at the same time. The pain hits with a force enough to make her knees buckle, drawing out a choked gasp as Ciri lilts against the nearby wall, throwing out her arm to stop her fall and grabbing at Alucard reflexively.

What she sees leaves her reeling, fighting back the urge to vomit as Alucard's memories slam into her senses and feel sickeningly real. ]

[Using the back alley ways to return to the graveyard is the clearest thought Alucard's had since he realized how deeply vulnerable this matter leaves him. No one has seen the worst of him and what he's done yet, but it feels like a matter of time. He might hope it is a friendlier face that sees the moment he dreads most, but better if no one sees him at all.

He isn't paying attention to anything but his own path. His own path and then a flash of something sharp that has him hissing like Dracula and ready to defend against an attack. But then the attack comes in the wrong form, and the recoiling sends Alucard back all too literally against the wall. Not again. Not fucking again.

What flashes past his eyes feels like laying eyes upon an illumination in one of his father's books. Something familiar, but the thundering of hooves, the aggression and determination, that's new. Raw. Too real, and his instinct upon laying eyes at a savage procession is to run, run, run until the alley comes back into focus.

It is that moment that he realizes Ciri has grabbed onto him. There's no steadiness in Alucard, meaning they both go collapsing onto the ground, the dhampir acting as a cushion for Ciri.

The nausea does not stop him from looking wild eyed and mortified. Trying to back up even further, even if Ciri's still using him to get herself back to rights.]

[ He sees Ciri, young and terrified, dressed in white with her hair long and loose around her shoulders; she stands alongside Geralt and Yennefer in a red-tinged, vast wasteland of a world. A horde of skeletal riders surge by, a hoarse voice rising up to call out to them.

Child of the Elder Blood, starry-eyed daughter of Chaos, join our Hunt.

--and then the vision fades, just as abruptly as it had come on, leaving only the unpleasant side effects after.

Ciri, still caught up in her own involuntary memory-viewing mind theater, clings to Alucard's sleeve without showing signs of trying to right herself again any time in the next few moments. She is gasping, sickly pale, fighting to tear herself free of whatever it is she's seeing too. ]

[The number of capital letters intoned is a little overwhelming in and of itself. Alucard scrambles to place any of it. Names without context, concepts without context, but Hunt sounds somewhat familiar.

His brain spins and sputters as the vision fades. Alucard slams his eyes shut in spite of every instinct otherwise because the light is simply too much to bear at the moment. All of his right side sags from Ciri's weight, and that constant tug down is what finally, finally drags Alucard back into reality.

There's a half hearted attempt to change form. The promise of two dozen fluttering wings dies quickly though, as the effects of the vision make concentration a nightmare. There's only enough of him available to shake his arm.]

Let go.

[Alucard never remembers the exact circumstances of how the whole thing begins. In his mind, it is always at media res, all three of them naked and the overwhelming nature of it all. The relief of being wanted in spite of so many things that hang heavy over the castle, over Alucard. Tenderness mixes with want and desire and something warmer. Hungrier. Overlapping limbs are inevitable, as is the obvious conclusion. (Hopefully, three or more conclusions.)

A sudden sharpness colors it all. The darkness that overtakes the room is entirely memory, but the circumstance of restraint is not. Neither is the terror or the pleading for anything but this that follows. Each word has been committed to indelible memory, as has the sound of sword slicing through not one neck but two in a single, simple gesture provided by an invisible hand.

The world spins. There is madness and grief as images pass by. A cold hard stone floor. A room ruined from a bout of anger. Descent into a dark, unwanted part of the basement and the scent of ancient, musty wood.

It ends with two impaled corpses in front of an impossible castle, sinister turrets jutting out with no ground support, looming large. Flies flicker and buzz. And there is a horrid sense of satisfaction that saturates the air as the memory fades out.]

Edited 2022-04-26 17:27 (UTC)

[ She shouldn't be seeing this. She shouldn't be seeing any of it, but she especially shouldn't be seeing this. Ciri tries to claw her way out of the vision, but it grips her tightly, the images flashing across her consciousness in a blur as the intimacy crumbles, twists sharply into something unspeakably horrific. And she watches, helpless, a world foreign to her passing by faster and faster, a sickening spiral of grief and hate, violence and loneliness.

When the vision finally lets her go, Ciri finds herself on the ground with Alucard beneath her, clinging to the front of the dhampir's shirt wet and smudged with her tears and running eyeliner. Her body trembles, feverish and sweaty, her throat painfully tight-- until she tries to open her mouth and the acrid taste of bile hits the back of her tongue. She gags.

With a hard shove, Ciri pushes herself off him and rolls onto her hands and knees in the dirt, retching violently. ]

[Alucard doesn't know what Ciri saw. He can't, he had his head shoved in with too many strange and arcane things to make sense of that have left his head feeling as if it has cracked in two. None of it has faded yet. There is only noise now and--

--and somehow it is the sound of Ciri's awful retching that snaps him firmly into reality. He refuses to consider why that, of all possible things, might be the anchor that has him reopen his eyes only to politely avert them. Neither of them are in a state to move.

Only one question hangs in the air now. Alucard knows that there are two answers that would provoke such a reaction and he knows that either answer is an agony. It was bad enough that Jaskier relived his father's murder, the details, the wretched emotional arc of it all, saw the faintest hint of Dracula's regret at what was happening. Then there's the other option.

His blood turns to ice faced with the reality of that possibility. He can barely speak of it. To make someone else live through it is downright criminal. And for all that thought may gnaw at his mind, the attempt he makes to stand falls flat. Alucard slides right back down the wall, legs now stretched out in front of him and the rest flopped over like a rag doll.

There's a whisper, and only because his voice is gone.]

Ciri?

[ She coughs and spits, remaining on all fours for a few moments longer as she tries to regroup. After a while, Ciri pushes herself to sit up on her knees, hands still shaking as she wipes her sleeve across her mouth. ]

F-fuck... [ She mumbles hoarsely, more a dazed automatic reaction than anything intentional. What is she supposed to say? ]

I--

[ Should she tell him? Should she lie? Never bring it up?

Ciri slumps, dragging herself to the wall sort of near him with knees drawn up and her throbbing head in her hands. ]

...sorry.

[He has to ask. Alucard realizes that the minute Ciri apologizes, because the agony of not knowing what she saw is always going to be worse than having the precise information. One series of events is also just a little bit easier than the other.

Alucard doesn't meet Ciri's eyes when he asks. Instead, he stares down the space they've found themselves in, relieved that no one has come to ask what, precisely is going on here.]

Was there one person in the vision or two?

[Easiest way of knowing without extra details.]

[ On the plus side, ducking into a dingy little side alley means most prying eyes have not found them. On the minus side, they're both now solidly covered in the dirt and probably other various unpleasantries found on the ground in dingy little allies. A bath is in order sometime soon. And a strong drink.

Ciri lifts her head slightly when he asks, but doesn't feel as surprised by it as perhaps she'd thought she should. It must be weighing on him already, wondering what she saw; she can understand that. For a moment, Ciri considers lying, brushing it off and letting him fill in something else, something hopefully easier to be reminded of. She considers telling him she'd simply suffered a harsher round of those damned headaches that follow these visions around, and not that she'd been gripped by such visceral shock and revulsion it's still making her stomach squirm.

In the end, though, Ciri knows this is too important. Alucard isn't some stranger she'll never see again. He's been an ally, maybe even a friend (at least of Jaskier's), and she can't look him in the eye again after this, having seen what she has, and not let him know of it.

Finally, she speaks, voice rough and quiet. ]

You. And two others. Together.

[The floor falls out from under the dhampir. Of the two options, this is the worst one, and even the sneaking suspicion of what Ciri saw does not blunt the impact of the truth. There's a choked noise - not a sob precisely, nor is it truly angry - of reaction follows, and the first instinct Alucard has is to bury his head in his hands.

It's the worst thought to have, to ask why of all the people who live in that house, Geralt was the one who got the more pleasant memory out of all of them. Unfair even, to assume one might be better suited for dealing with trauma than the others. But that's where Alucard's thoughts go in the moment, silence thick and heavy in the air.

He can't look Ciri in the eye. But he can find words, even as the instinct to change form and run starts to take over.]

I'm so sorry. [Three small words, genuine and heartbroken that anyone should have to deal with the worst parts of Alucard's memories.] I would not have elected to tell you, nor have you experience even a moment of that.

No.

[ Ciri shakes her head, a little too hard. It throbs in protest, and she winces and presses a hand to her forehead, staring straight ahead. Beside her, she can see Alucard folded in on himself, unable to lift his head, and she wants suddenly to touch his arm, to offer reassurance somehow. If that's even possible.

She doesn't reach out, of course. ]

Stop that. You have nothing to apologize for.

But I... [ Well, not that it was her fault, but still. It's so invasive. She feels filthy, but it isn't because of Alucard. ] I am sorry to have brought up such memories, inadvertent as it was. You have my word, I'll never speak of this. It was never my business, and it isn't anyone else's either.

[Alucard wants to react to being told no out of sheer spite. He can't run right now, he can't change form, so a stupid fight somehow seems like a solid option to a brain that feels as if two dozen racoons are rummaging through it and flinging boxes around.

The attempt dies in his throat, thanks to how Ciri holds herself. A headache and a fight are terrible companions, the one un-racoon filled part of his brain argues.]

You're right about that last part. [There. He can manage agreement it seems, but that doesn't help the matter. They're still stuck in an alley, still reeling, and all Alucard's mind can fixate on now is that she knows, worse, she saw it, she saw all of it and so the chorus builds up and up and up.

Fuck. He tries standing again, but his legs remain unsteady. So he tries a different approach, using the palms of his hands to support his weight inch by inch, until the dhampir is at least leaning against the wall. From a distance, he looks more like a hunched over drunk. An improvement, all things considered.]

Can you move?

Free Cities, out and about

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CW sexual assault, extreme violence

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Surly Wench!

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