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

[ He huffs out a laugh, pressing another plank of wood into the ground. His fingers pause atop it as he waits for Alucard to pass him the mallet. ]

How much time have you got? [ There's a long list. They have ten decades between them all and their winters, even in their older years, have often been...mm. Unruly. Just what happens when you bring a dozen or two men who've not seen each other in months together. It's a wonder Vesemir hasn't barred them all from returning. ] We found a wyvern nest once. He was the one who convinced us to capture a hatchling as a pet.

[ It isn't the first time he's told this story. One of those memories that's easy to recount. Free of any...complicated matters, like some of his others. It's only a few boys, being fucking idiots and paying the price. ]

[The mallet is passed. It is a heavy, well worn thing. Never mind where Alucard found it, the thing is probably as old as he is.]

Plenty, all things considered. [If they keep working like this, and if this is the only memory that will transpire between them, then there is endless time for stories.

Alucard's laugh is small. Warm.]

And who lost how many fingers and toes?

Mostly the skin off our backsides. Once Vesemir found out.

[ One princess had been a handful enough for Geralt. Four boys and a dozen or two other Witchers made for a kind of headache he isn't sure how Vesemir survived.

It was not all pleasantries. He knows, for all that Vesemir cared for his boys, he still raised them the only way he understood how. As Witchers. But at the end of the day, they had a place to sleep and were fed and a home to return to when nowhere else would've taken them.

There are worse ways to grow up. ]

[There's a pfft noise from the dhampir. It isn't a typical sound, and in truth, it still feels awkward coming from him. But what else do you offer in these moments beside gentle, amused understanding and resting in quiet knowledge at least these hunters weren't entirely alone.

Alucard's come to accept that on the rare occasion that Geralt speaks of his training, his own mind goes back to the Belmonts and his father and where the differences lie. This part is chief among them - more survived, making them a little less feral than Trevor at his worst.]

I can't imagine the patience he had to build up over the years. [Genuinely meant.] The nail on your left isn't flush, give it another tap.

[Vampire vision is very good and useful.]

[ A lot of patience. The kind of patience Vesemir did not start out with. Vesemir was only several decades old. Younger than Geralt was at the time when he found Ciri. There's a point where humans think once you're old enough, you've nothing left that can age you further.

But Geralt has lived a long time. It isn't true. He looks back on years where he's fifty, seventy, and thinks: he was still so fucking young then.

He acknowledges the request by giving the nail another tap. ] Why architecture?

[ He's curious. From what he could see in those memories and what Alucard told him, the dhampir's path was wide open. Plenty of ways he could go. He wonders, a bit, what that's like. To have all manner of choices laid out before you as a child. ]

You saw my father's castle, right?

[He must have. Alucard doesn't wait for an answer, it seems like a safe bet.]

Something like that is a mix of creativity, magic, and actual engineering. And defense. The last part was important to all of us, and it was something my father and I bonded over when I began to grow into those awkward teenage years.

[He lines up another nail, just in case.] Had things not gone as they did, I might have traveled as my father did and walked among men. Perhaps architecture would have been a passing interest then.

[ Mm. He saw. Geralt hasn't much care for architecture, but he can recognize a beautiful structure when he sees one. Castle is the right word for it. Empty, too.

Walked among men. He does not know Alucard's father, but he does know the man in that vision was patient, with a loving wife and son. Grief does things to people. He understands that well. Grief that gives rise to vengeance more so. ]

I suppose we're both a bit stuck among men. [ A fact of the universe at large. Humans fill the continent on many worlds, it would appear. He sits back on his heels once the last piece is in place. He gestures at the remaining work. ] What else?

Edited 2022-05-08 22:36 (UTC)

I suppose. But that wasn't the point back then. [Geralt might even understand the next part.] My father had isolated himself prior to their meeting. Save for the occasional attack upon the castle and the need to bring some chaos to heal among his own people, he was out of step with the world and the people in it. My mother's encouragement to travel through ordinary means and meet the world was fixing that. Slowly.

[His father was always happier home, but he returned with stories. He met people, although Alucard does hold the opinion that meeting some of those people, like his father's forgemasters, was not great sometimes. And traveling as men do had created tragedy, in the end.]

Same thing, but up the next level of scaffolding. I'll have to float to put the plank in place before you can nail anything in.

[ Mm. He does understand, but it isn't quite the same. He never really had the option to hide from the world. Even as much as he kept to himself, he lived in it. Always will. He's not ever been out of step with the world or its people. In some ways, he thinks he understands them a little too much. The things they do. ] You didn't join him?

[ It's interesting. The fondness Alucard holds for his parents and his avoidance of reconstructing the castle as his home. Perhaps that's the reason why: Alucard's home was intact once, before things fell apart. Geralt's never was. For him, whatever bloody, painful memories echo in the corridors, they're as deeply entrenched in his concept of home as the warm camaraderie.

He rises. His eyebrow lifts. ] I hate it when you hover.

[ He's teasing, dryly, but. It does inexplicably annoy him in that inconsequential sort of way. Maybe it's because Alucard looks absurdly casual doing it. ]

Only on short trips in Wallachia, once or twice. [Oh, Geralt doesn't know this part.] I aged rapidly for a time. It was safer for me to be kept apart until that rate slowed.

[And this time, no rude comments from Sypha. That's nice.

The hover comment gets a smug grin.] Not the first time a hunter has complained on the topic. I assume it comes from either a place of envy or genuine annoyance.

[Which means he's going to do it more out of spite. But not before the grin softens into something more fond.] My mother did too. She had to tie a string to my leg to keep me from getting stuck in hard to reach places during the daylight hours.

[ That's. New information. Geralt absorbs it with a tilt of his head. At some point, the years must've evened out. Alucard is twenty or so, and he looks it. Explains a lot, frankly, once Geralt learned the dhampir was not, in fact, many decades older than his physical appearance.

Makes him wonder if that's to do with Alucard being half-human or if it's a vampire thing. Both, perhaps.

He makes a quiet huff, a noise that passes for a laugh. ] I could put a rope around your ankle right now. Lest you be stuck in that ceiling.

[ An amusing image. Geralt climbs up the scaffolding to wait for Alucard to. Float. With the plank. A handy skill for construction. ]

[It's probably the human part? No one's ever figured it out, not even Alucard. He's just accepted that it is what it is and that it made things awkward for a while. And gave Sypha a very good burn opportunity.]

I promise, I know how to get down now. Pretty sure I'd chew the rope off out of spite too.

[He grins, too sharp and fangs on display to make a point, before he heads off to grab the next planks, along with more nails.

Then, just as promised and looking just as silly as it sounds, he floats right on up. Balancing a whole ass plank of wood. Making it look far too casual.]

Unfortunately for you, those are all the embarrassing childhood adventures with my natural abilities that I have. [Alucard pauses just long enough to confirm he is at the right height, then pushes the plank into place along the scaffolding's framework.]

Pass me the hammer? I'll settle this in before you put any weight on it.

[ Something to be said about a vampire willingly flashing his fangs to a Witcher. They've come a ways.

It is as annoyingly idiotic as he remembers. Vampiric species in his world don't float gently into the air. They fly, sprouting the wings of a giant bat. (That's the other bit—the fact that Alucard turns not into one big bat, but multiple bats. An experience which Jaskier told him with much embellishment and some heavy drinking at the time.)

Geralt holds out the hammer, perched on the ledge of the scaffolding. ]

I've one more question. [ A pause. It is a serious question. Absolutely. ] Were you a wolf pup when you turned as a child.

[If you ask him to turn into bats, he'll humor you Geralt. Being a series of bats is fun.

Alucard takes the hammer, then withdraws the nails he grabbed before floating up. He's still floating as he aligns the first, but--]

Absolutely. And I was adorable.

[It is the confidence of someone who knows this is mostly silly. With that, the first nail is pounded into place.] A series of baby bats isn't quite as cute, I'll admit.

[ He can almost imagine Alucard as a little pup. Alucard told him once his parents hadn't known, what it is he could do as the first and only of his kind, and he wonders what they thought when they first saw a small wolf instead of their boy.

Tail must've wagged, too. Adorable in-fucking-deed. ]

Too bad I missed it. [ He helps hold the piece into place. ] Might've warmed up to you sooner.

[ As Jaskier has discovered, much to Geralt's chagrin, not even an old Witcher can resist a small furry creature. ]

Edited 2022-05-13 16:09 (UTC)

[He was a wiggly mess. An adorable wiggly mess who got picked up and carted around just as he did as a small child.]

Doubt it. [Still. Alucard lines up a few more nails, then raises an eyebrow.] It does strike me as a strange twist of fortune that your nickname aligns with one of my forms though.

[Fuck it. While they're sharing.] How did that name stick?

[ Alucard isn't the only one. There's more than one white wolf that he knows of here, titled or otherwise.

He grunts. ] How do you think? [ One person on the fucking Continent can make a name stick. ] Jaskier coined it. Put it in his songs. I was called rather different names before then.

[ By the humans, in any case. Wolf was not an uncommon term for him amongst his own. He never quite gave it a second thought until Abraxas. The association was simply an obvious one. ]

--Of course he did. [Alucard lets out a soft little huff of a laugh.] Put like that I do feel ridiculous asking.

[But it begs a more important question. How many songs has he written about you at this point anyway?

Are we only counting the flattering ones? [ There's light amusement behind the dry remark; he isn't much bothered by Jaskier's time spent writing down his...feelings. After Geralt left him. He gets it.

In any case. ] Couldn't tell you. Two decades' worth.

[ They've known each other a long time. And in that time, Geralt was there for Jaskier's rise through the Continent. That is rather the thing, isn't it? That Jaskier knew him before he became the White Wolf, but he, too, knew Jaskier before his fame took off. When he was a young man, barely a name on anyone's mind.

The only people who know him better are his brothers. Vesemir. ]

I'll ask him about the unflattering ones later. [Alucard flashes Geralt a real grin at that, hardly hiding the glee at the idea. Jaskier's good at what he does and not subtle with his feelings.]

That may also just be too many songs about one person. [Fuck it. May as well.] At least I just got a statue and a weird prophecy.

They aren't about me. [ He shifts over to help with the next wooden plank. ] About the monsters, more.

[ He is a figure, a name. Jaskier hears about him stumbling out of the woods, covered in blood and filth, and he spins a tale. Leaves out the part where the villager's children are found torn apart, adds a maiden or two. Describes a particularly fearsome beast.

Stories. It's what Jaskier does, and it's what Geralt has accepted. In the end, what does it matter to him, that they imagine him a monster or a knight? Neither are the truth. Men do not much care to know the truth. At least Jaskier's path helps put a few more coins in his pocket, keeps a town now and again from kicking him out of their gates.

Statues and prophecy. He knows a bit about that, as well. He snorts. ] Was it written in meter, at least?

I'm not sure how I feel about that balance either way.

[Alucard knows what monster stories do. They cement images in ways that are impossible to fight against, for better and for worse. They keep others away. They keep the monsters safe, if people hear them and realize they shouldn't go looking for trouble.

Dracula was a story to most before his mother's death. His father preferred it that way. It let him work in peace.

Meter? The dhampir snorts.] Not at all. But the people who carried it with them, the Speakers, understood it not to be a prediction of the future but a record of an event that happened and the future transmitted to the past through magic.

[ That's unique. It all amounts to the same thing in his mind—a prediction that cannot be confirmed true until it comes to pass—but the semantics are interesting. ]

Some prophecies are self-fulfilling. [ Some are rooted in the truth. Others are purely folklore. There are dozens of prophecies that exist on the Continent. Ciri has been the subject of at least two.

These days—what the fuck does he know? He can no longer say he doesn't believe in Destiny, but prophecies of destruction are something else altogether. ] What was yours about?

True. And the future corresponding with the past to tell them what will come to pass makes one wonder if the future is transmitting the knowledge to ensure things will happen in a certain way.

[There's a sigh, but Alucard meets Geralt's eyes.] My father's death, of course.

[What else would even matter that the dhampir can do?] A scholar and a hunter will find a sleeping soldier underneath the city of Gresit and together they will defeat Dracula. [It is a rote recitation. Alucard has heard it so many times before.]

Given that she's a power house, I'm beginning to think an older Sypha might have sent it back to her people through time.

[ Complicated, when you put it that way. This is why he hates predictions and prophecies. They're never written well, either.

Point in case. Not even any mention of fire and blood.

An older Sypha. His friend? He doesn't know if he believes in the future speaking to the past through magic, but he supposes nothing says that isn't how it works. True love and Destiny. Both things no one ever has a fucking clue about, but are forced to admit they must exist to some degree.

He's starting to put the picture together, though. Alucard, awoken to someone telling him he's fated to kill his own father. No one wants to be a part of that. ]

Did you believe it at first?

EVENT #7: THE SIGHT

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