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

[unnecessaryflourishes]

[It is hard to deny that his tendency towards the dramatic is very much something that is very much visible even on a casual glance. Which is not to say that he's incapable of being otherwise, but he has long since decided that there's no point in not being exactly as dramatic as he cares to be. Especially when it is very well-suited to the vast majority of his goals.

Nor can he deny that there's something almost satisfying in seeing Zenos' pitiful attempt end in failure, as he's tackled to the ground by Himeka. Even if it's not something he's inclined to acknowledge.]

Nor were we, once.

[It has become a necessity, yes. And one that he would be lying to say that he wouldn't willing to do as many times as had proved necessary, had Himeka not defeated him as she had. But not something any of them had known prior to it becoming immediately necessary.

And if as colored by his words, as Thancred's memory fades what replaces it is not reality but Amaurot. Amaurot as it was, rather that the faded replica that he had created under the seas on the First, or the version of it that stands as his Horizon; the people as real as anything else as they drift through the streets, the ideal buzz of chatter filling the air. But what might stand out most is the fact that the people - though still robed and masked - are nonetheless individuals, and all of a height that would otherwise be considered normal rather than the over-tall giants of either Emet-Selch's Horizon or the recreated Amaurot he had made.

There's a moment's silence from Emet-Selch as he watches the gentle bustle of the evening - and surely it is that, for the streetlights are lit - and then a soft sigh.]

I had wondered.

[funbreaker]

[ Emet-Selch's response isn't of any real shock to Thancred, not after his conversation with Hythlodaeus. When Thancred had told him of what Lahabrea had done, the reaction had been one of genuine unease. The idea of an Ancient possessing another living creature had been foreign to Hythlodaeus, so far as Thancred could tell.

No, that unfortunate habit had only formed after the Sundering, after the Ancients became the Ascians. No doubt Emet-Selch would have any number of words to justify it. Thancred can already more or less gather what he would say, and so there's little point in dwelling on it.

Besides, they are now being transported to another memory, and there's little surprise that they end up in Amaurot — though the version of it that exists in only one place: Emet-Selch's own recollections.

Due to that, everything is to scale rather that being three sizes too tall like what Thancred had always experienced of the place. It's odd for all the proportions to be off from what he himself remembers, but it makes sense.

Thancred glances over as Emet-Selch lets out that sigh, then gives a small shrug. ]

Believe me, I would have rather been spared this as well. Yet it seems we have no choice but to see it through.

[ He watches the Ancients as they walk down the streets, clusters of them gathered together and engaged in lively conversation. Truly people, rather than the wandering ghosts that Thancred and the other Scions had seen in the Tempest.

It seems even an Architect could only recreate so much. There's an odd comfort in that. ]

[unnecessaryflourishes]

[There are certainly things he could say about he and his fellow Ascians' need to inhabit mortal flesh - and their respective habits in so doing. But he does not. There is no need to, and given that he has already seen something Thancred might have preferred to not have had shared, he sees no need to antagonize Thancred for no reason. Not when he has no way of knowing how long they might otherwise be stuck in a memory together.

Still, he recognizes where they are, if not necessarily which night of many this should happen to be.]

If it should be any consolation, this is unlikely to involve anything as troubling as that which we saw previously.

[It is, of course, going to involve a great deal of Amaurotine society and customs, and he's not certain whether or not Thancred will be particularly interested in seeing the world as it had once been, given his biases towards Emet-Selch and his fellow Ascians, but there's little enough to be done about that. Instead, Emet-Selch turns his attention to the gentle milling crowds, as if he's looking for one figure in particular.]

There.

[He points to one of the people as he speaks. A man, just stepping out of a nearby building. Like any other, he is dressed in a long black hooded robe, and a mask. But unlike the white of the masks that every other person passing by wears, his is red and of a unique design. One that Emet-Selch knows well, though Thancred will likely not - though he will no doubt recall what red masks meant among those who had come to be known as Ascians.]

[funbreaker]

Ah, right, because this was paradise.

[ Thancred's words are dry in response, although not as cutting as they could be. He has more or less resigned himself to the situation, understanding that they won't be free of it until they've seen what the Singularity wishes. How much it's imposing any sort of will on what they're shown or whether or not it's handpicking the memories, it's difficult to say.

Emet-Selch manages to pinpoint the central point of the memory soon enough, and Thancred follows his gesture with his gaze, spotting the figure with the red mask. From his perspective, it's the red masks that he's seen far more often in his experience with Ascians rather than the colorless ones. Yet from where they stand it would be difficult to make out the specific details and narrow down the wearer. ]

A member of the Convocation. [ He can assume that much. While wearing an uncertain frown, Thancred begins to slowly step closer to the figure in question. ] Is it you?

[ Or perhaps even Lahabrea? Thancred has no true desire to see who he once was, but what he wants hardly seems to matter at the moment. ]

[unnecessaryflourishes]

Because there were fewer individuals inclined to instigate anything remotely similar to the events that occurred in yours.

[Which is not to say that there hadn't still be problems, yes. But compared to the worlds that had sprung up after the Sundering... it had been paradise indeed. Enough so that he has, over the long millennia, become all too willing to overlook the more minor difficulties. To remember the best of that world, rather than the worst of it.

Still, he doesn't care to get into any further discussion of the details with Thancred, of all people. Not when he's still fairly certain that it would be a grudging conversation at best, no matter how relevant it might be to the memory at hand.]

Myself. Lahabrea would have been elsewhere at this hour.

[And Emet-Selch has no desire to track him down either. Instead, he follows Thancred as he steps closer to his younger self - not that it's much easier to get a glimpse of the man behind the mask even then. A sharp eye might spot a flicker of silver hair underneath the hood of his robe, but beyond that there's nothing save the mask that particularly stands out.

Emet-Selch's younger self does, however, seem to have a destination in mind, given the way he moves through the crowds with a certain amount of purpose.]

[funbreaker]

[ Did Thancred mishear, or did Emet-Selch actually concede that perhaps the Ancients hadn't truly been perfect in every way? It's enough that Thancred does glance back to stare at him for a moment. Up until now, it's always been the same diatribes about how the Sundered were lesser creatures, prone to bringing about discord and destruction even when it was the Ascians themselves who were often pushing along that agenda.

Then again, when Himeka had been able to stop Emet-Selch, she had proved to him that they all had a purpose, that they deserved to live just as much as the Ancients who Emet-Selch had wanted so desperately to bring back. Mayhap he's finally had the time to truly think on that point, here in Abraxas.

Beyond that little moment of surprise, Thancred doesn't comment further on it for now. The memory is still unfolding before them, after all. He doesn't rise to the bait of asking where Lahabrea might be, intent on his belief that he need not know.

All they can really do is follow the past version of Emet-Selch, and so Thancred does, maneuvering around the clumps of robed figures. ]

Have you narrowed down what this is yet?

[ It all seems typical enough thus far. What makes this a memory worth showing? ]

[unnecessaryflourishes]

[It helps, perhaps, that his death had meant a loosening of his Tempering. And more importantly a chance to set down his burden, and to end his long vigil. One that was all too brief before he had been called into this world instead, but that is hardly anything he is going to burden Thancred with.

Nor does he care to - yet again - attempt to explain why he had acted as he had. Why he had been so desperate to reclaim that which he had lost. It had barely seemed to make much of an effect last time he had, and given that there is still a memory unfolding before them - one which he hopes will illustrate at least some of what he had lost, in the Sundering - he sees no immediate reason to. Not unless Thancred should make some comment that prompts it otherwise.]

What, yes. [If in a general sense.] But not when.

[Still he takes a moment to look through the crowds, before finally point towards a figure that appears to be heading toward Emet-Selch's younger self. One which looks much the same as any other, white mask and all, save for the faintest glimpse of lilac peeking out from under the ever-present hood, but that seems to be enough for Emet-Selch.]

There.

[Both Emet-Selch's, given that the younger one alters his course ever so slightly so that his path crosses that of the person his older self has pointed out.]

[funbreaker]

[ Yes, when would make all the difference, and given that everyone in this city wears near identical clothing and covers their faces, that would be difficult to determine. The Final Days do not appear to have arrived yet or there would be far more panicking — so Thancred assumes. It's the only narrowing down he can do thus far.

He watches as the Emet-Selch of the past strides forward to meet yet another robed figure, though Thancred's eyes are sharp enough to catch a glimpse of that hair peeking out from around the hood. Had it not been for a chance encounter during the Summit, that would not mean much to him.

And yet, he may be able to give Emet-Selch a bit of a surprise, as he gives a small nod toward the scene. ]

Is that Hythlodaeus?

[ The two are friends, that much had been clear from Thancred's conversation with the Ancient. Their temperaments are rather different, but that might be precisely why they had become companions. ]

[unnecessaryflourishes]

[The Final Days are, at least for now, nothing that anyone has even heard of. The days continue on as they will, and though there is still trouble enough for those who might seek to look for it, it is a more mundane sort of trouble. The sort that - while it might require effort to deal with - is still a far cry from the world-spanning calamity that the Final Days had become.

Still, there's a slight blink at Thancred's question. He's well aware that Thancred had attended the peace summit, yes. But he certainly hadn't been particularly aware of everyone Hythlodaeus had chosen to meet - and hadn't been much inclined to ask, either. It had hardly been any of his business, and if Hythlodaeus hadn't much cared to mention it that's well within his rights.

Emet-Selch recovers quickly enough, though, offering a slight inclination of his head in answer.]

Yes. He and I often met thus.

[He and Thancred have, at this point, drawn close enough to overhear the conversation Hythlodaeus and Emet-Selch's younger self are having.

(I hear Azem is to return today, Hythlodaeus comments.

Yes, Emet-Selch answers, and no doubt she will have brought no end of oddities with her.)

It's as much the idle conversation of old friends as anything, but it at least proves that Emet-Selch has always been somewhat inclined to grumpiness.]

[funbreaker]

[ It is strange to be witness to this, and Thancred cannot shake the sense that he is not supposed to be here. Emet-Selch, oddly, does not seem too bothered by the fact that Thancred is seeing into his past. Perhaps this is what he wants, for the people of the present to understand all that he'd labored for.

Yet much like Emet-Selch's recreation of Amaurot, this memory is only that — a memory, doomed to remain a part of ancient history. Hythlodaeus' existence here in Abraxas is perhaps the closest that Emet-Selch will get to reclaiming his past.

The strangest part, of course, is hearing of them speak of Azem. He takes a half-step back without truly realizing he's doing it. Thancred will always draw a distinction between Azem and Himeka, understanding that they cannot be treated as the same person, but he suspects it's not quite the same for Emet-Selch and the other Ancients.

If they begin to speak about Himeka, Thancred knows the conversation will end up nowhere good. Which leaves only one other option. His gaze moves yet again from the memory to the reality of Emet-Selch beside him. ]

It must have been quite the shock when he appeared here.

[ Is Thancred truly so curious? Not particularly, but it's preferable to standing here in stony silence. ]