the_archive: (None of this makes sense.)
the_archive ([personal profile] the_archive) wrote in [community profile] abraxaslogs2021-08-01 09:30 pm

Recording #004 | The Voice

WHO: Jonathan Sims et al
WHAT: DOOM
WHERE: The return from the Horizon, and the dungeons.
WHEN: From July 24th to August 12th
WARNING: Body horror, eyes, execution talk, mention of self-harm.
NOTES: Always up to add something more specific for any asker. I'm in the group disco at all hours, or on plurk as TheHats.

 

1.

Jon wakes up outside the rim of the crater with a sense of gentle, falling disappointment, staring up at the sky. He simply lays there for a while in the long grass, hands folded on his stomach, unmoving. It's one of the guards accompanying the mages that first notices he's awake, and they're swift to pull him to his feet. The guard who grabs his wrist to recuff him makes a startled sound when one of the three broad scars across Jon's throat opens and blinks lazily at him, and when another eye winks from the back of his neck, the guard escorting him back to the group pushes harder than necessary, sending him to his knees.

It's there he goes still, frozen, his eyes – all of his eyes, in their dozens now, every scar opening to show a different shade of iris with pinprick pupils – go wide as the voice sounds inside his head, for him alone, a dead language hissing like static between his ears.
 

H̷̨̀͂É̴̩̩͋L̷̘͂͝L̴̳̹͐Ö̴̠͉́ ̴̱̽͝H̴̡̱̎͝E̸̥̻̍̄L̵͈̽͜L̷̙͛͒Ọ̶́̔
̶̬̾Ý̸͓̖͝O̷̦͐U̴͈̿̒ ̷̳̔̀C̴̳̰̚A̸̰̔N̸͎͕̈́ ̸̗̦̂U̶̼̖͌Ṋ̶̛́ͅD̸͌̕͜E̴͖̩̅̽Ȓ̴͔͚̔S̸̘̔T̷͎͔͊͐A̶̰͑̎Ň̴̬͝D̷̙̂̐ ̸̨̦͂̊M̴͖̾Ě̷͔ ̶̹̙͆Y̷̺̱͛E̸̟̓͗S̶͎̀̒ ̸̧̥̆F̵̝̯͗I̷̛̯̔N̶̡̪͠Â̶͙̩Ĺ̸̖̭͝L̵͎̩̇Ý̸̲͈ ̷̙́ͅB̴̻̙́̈́È̶̖͖Ę̴̩͒̄N̴̺̋̑ ̵̛̮͠W̴̻̃A̴̗̞̍̕Í̷̻͝T̷͚͒́Ì̷̙̃͜Ṅ̴͖͖̂G̶̺̩̃


He doesn't answer when he's ordered to his feet,
 

Ç̵̥͗͑Ą̷͖͂N̴̨͈͝'̵̥̇̂T̶͔͍̕ ̶̬́͌T̵̹̔͘Ą̸̲͊͝L̷̺̓̚K̵͖̚ ̴̼̿́M̷̟̉̓Ǘ̵̠͐C̴̖̔H̵̜́ ̸̤͛Ṋ̸̄͝O̸͉̣͒̔W̵̱͐ ̸̱̻̅̚V̸̥͝͠Ẽ̷͚R̸̎͊͜Y̴̠̋̕ ̶̗̎E̵̡͒X̴̟̀H̷̘̀̓Ả̷̪U̸̞̦͊S̸̘̜̍T̶̡͙̀Ȋ̵̘N̵͓̬͂Ğ̵̢
̷͓͈͆I̷̅͜ ̵̯͌̒W̴͓͜͠I̶͔̝̍L̸̨̯̀́L̴̢̟͆͑ ̸̱̿Ș̷͆Ẹ̷͖͝Ṉ̸̼͊̎D̵̦̃ ̷̯̗̇͝M̷̤͐Ẏ̷͎ ̷̬̑Ȩ̵͍̏̏N̸̤͋V̷͚̺̾̇O̴͔̮̍̃Y̷̦͝


or rise when they yank his arm.
 

Ť̵̞̈́R̵̛͉̀Y̴̳͠ ̷̡̹̃N̶̘͆̉O̸̡͕̅T̵̨͗́͜ ̶͉̏́Ṭ̵̋Ȍ̸̺͓̚ ̷̢̬̽L̵̼̱̚O̸͙̾̔O̴͚̠͗͠Ḱ̸̢̕ ̷͉͈̔H̸̙̜͑̾E̶̻͒̈́ ̷̱̭̇̔I̵̻̩͗̾S̷̤̊͂ ̴͓̥̊Ǹ̶͍͇̍Ȍ̶ͅT̵͙̈́̄ ̷͕̎̓M̷͚̗̀E̴̝͛A̸͈̅N̶͓̏T̵͓̒̈́ ̸̰͙͌͌T̶͍̗̑̏O̶̡͙̽̑ ̸̠͆B̷͔͔͠E̸̼̔ ̴͙̍̓ͅS̶͉̽̏Ė̶̠̘̑E̴̪̓́͜N̷̻͍͐͝ ̸̤̉͊Ẉ̵̓̒I̴͍͋T̸̡̾H̴̖͉̎ ̶̗̠̀E̴̞̋Ẏ̴͖E̸͇̔S̴̩̕͜ ̸̀͜Ḁ̶̺̂͑Ṡ̶̯̘ ̸̱̈́͆O̸̝̓̃P̸͍͉͝Ę̶̪̚N̴͓͐ ̴̭͑Ḁ̵̱̆͂S̶̜̭͌̋ ̵̟̽̎Y̷͚̽O̷͔̙̔͒Ü̸̘̎R̸̺̚S̶͔̬̈́̚
̶̪̬̏I̸̢̝̓̀T̴̓ͅ ̸̳̃͛Ẇ̵̫̱Ȋ̶̘͔̇L̷͍͗L̸̦͊́͜ ̷̫̆͠H̶̤͍̾͝Ų̵͂̀R̶̰̳̈́̋Ţ̸͇̓ ̶̢͚̾L̵̳̍͛ͅĪ̸͎̜͝Ķ̴̗̈́̽Ē̴̡ ̷̜̀̚Ś̶̨̮T̸̢̎͜A̶̹̗̾̊R̷̝̄I̵̳̼͐̚Ǹ̴͖̥G̷̼͆̓ ̷̤́͠I̴͎̍N̷̫̻̎T̸̡͆Ỏ̵͔̱ ̷̣̽T̵̮̠̓H̷̦͒̇Ẹ̵̤́̒ ̷̪̔̄Ş̷̑U̴̹̫͆̔N̴̗̱͗̋ ̷͔͚͋̌


He's frozen in horror, listening to something other than their gruff orders,
 

W̴̨͗̈͠Ȃ̴̝̦I̸͍͕͂̿͝T̷̹̫̮͑ ̸̱͇͛̒͒F̴̧͕̬̋̏Ö̵̹͚͒R̵͔̔̃ ̶͉̲̂̂͑H̸̯̪̊Ī̴̳͚̈́̒M̴̢̼͔͊̚
̵̏͜S̶̖͂͝È̸̳̰̥T̷̿͜ ̸̫̮́̅M̵̺̒E̷̦̍͝ ̴͓͙̽̈́F̴̦͊̐̄ͅR̸̯̕Ẽ̵̘̆E̸͎̻̓ͅ ̵̼̊̀͌


and when they finally get him up, he staggers where he's pushed, stands where he's left, numb, pale, and breathing fast.


2.

He's still just as unsettled when they're returned to the cells. He manages to retreat to his bed, although there's no sleep for him. The new eyes don't all shut, not when he wants them too, and he twitches at every voice. Twitches and relaxes again when he realizes they're safe, he's only hearing them with his ears.

It takes him until the next day to begin to breathe easily again, and even then, the equanimity he displayed before the Horizon is gone. Instead of sitting by the bars to see who's coming down the corridor, now he paces, jaw so tense his head aches. It's not the Eye. He knows that much. What it is, what it might be, he doesn't know. And he fears.

rehandle: (259)

[personal profile] rehandle 2021-08-19 11:12 am (UTC)(link)
This time, when a new eye opens, he meets it for a moment. Holds that pale gaze for the few seconds it takes the man to speak before instinctively looking up to the back of his head when he does.

A few days ago. So there's been an influencing factor to his change of heart. Whatever it is, it's enough to equal and mollify his violent refusal to be a pawn for whatever's waiting for his help in its chance at freedom.

I know I shouldn't, he says.

"You don't have to justify an unwillingness to die."

That said...

"What changed?"
rehandle: (034)

[personal profile] rehandle 2021-08-19 12:18 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, shit. He manages to keep most of the wince under wraps, but the downturn at the corners of his mouth and furrow between his brows refuses to be smothered altogether. Colour him immediately, overpoweringly grateful that he's not had any opportunities to date since his life slid sideways into sorcery.

"Yeowch." It's out before he really has the chance to vet it, caught off guard by the whiplash of the mood. Not as if it's any lighter, but there's something so absurdly relatable about the miserable situation Jon finds himself in that he can't help but empathise. All it would've taken is one variation in the timeline... With empathy comes a slip away from pragmatism, and with that comes— well. Yeowch.

"Sorry. That's—" Dealing with a death wish is one thing. Dealing with a man who's trying to juggle a good five or six nightmare scenarios at once, one of them being the sudden appearance of a boyfriend who's still a not-yet-boyfriend and another being not having yet managed to let that not-yet-boyfriend know that he's on death row, is something else altogether.

Stephen's bedside manner hasn't had enough practice for this.

"Bad."

He can help with a disembodied voice asking for a rescue, can even help with an out for an impending execution. An acquaintance dealing with a cross-section of the cross-temporal, multiversal and interpersonal, though? He's got nothing, and too many seconds of stretching silence makes that abundantly clear.
Edited (cursed mdash...) 2021-08-19 12:19 (UTC)
rehandle: (293)

[personal profile] rehandle 2021-08-19 01:22 pm (UTC)(link)
Ah. Good. Just like that, he's given purpose again. Stephen shakes off that brief stupor with a nod.

"Yeah." Of course. "Does Ambrose know what he's done?"

Has he already come to gloat? Is there any point in going to plead a case?

He's careful to keep his voice hushed - no longer for the sake of any guards who might be lurking around, now for the man three cells down who doesn't know he's being spoken about.
Edited 2021-08-19 14:18 (UTC)
towerjunkie: (Left and right)

[personal profile] towerjunkie 2021-08-20 06:36 am (UTC)(link)
[ Roland's forehead wrinkles slightly. He hadn't expected the man to think Ambrose had done the right thing. ]

Is it danger to yourself you fear, or harm coming to others?
towerjunkie: (Makes a sound)

[personal profile] towerjunkie 2021-08-20 07:28 am (UTC)(link)
[ The accuracy of any gun metaphors aside, Roland nods once. He's felt the ache of old age and infirmity coming on him, and though the loss of the two fingers on his right hand haven't slowed him down-- the events surrounding that are ugly reminders of a time he could not trust his body to do what he wished. If Sai Jon feels the same about himself and his power, that explains much.

Not that Roland feels deterred. Some things are worth the risk. The tower is worth any risk. ]


When, and I beg you'll tell me, has safety ever been a guarantee to any of us who draw breath? Death and danger come to all of us, whether we call it on ourselves or not.
towerjunkie: (Left and right)

[personal profile] towerjunkie 2021-08-20 07:56 am (UTC)(link)
[ Roland doesn't initially move as Jon draws closer, his face still as impassive as he can keep it.

But before he speaks he takes another look up and down the corridor and steps closer as well. ]


And you think yourself the only means by which the Tower might fall? There is a man here, in this very dungeon, whom I have hunted all my life. His desire, other than to bring chaos and ruin where'er he sets his loathesome boots, is to climb to the top of the Tower himself and pull apart reality like a child eager to see how his Fairday present ticks. And he will set his mind to that end once he is released from him, I say true.

[ There's no hiding the vehemence of his feeling about the man currently using the name Flagg. A depth of hatred burns in Roland's soul towards the man who has played a part in all the tragedies of his life. ]

Unlike him, Sai Jon, you've no desire to see the Tower fall. [ A pause, as he considers whether to gamble on an assumption. ] And you'd choose death over seeing all things come to an end, I'd warrant.
towerjunkie: (You're so far from)

[personal profile] towerjunkie 2021-08-20 08:46 am (UTC)(link)
Here you are.

[ Roland echoes it, calmer now the topic isn't Walter O'Dimm and his crimes. The impassive expression is back and he's silent a long moment as he considers what Jon is saying. ]

Know, Sai, that Ambrose and his cohort aren't the only ones who'll do you the mercy of putting a bullet in your head should the need arise.
towerjunkie: (Default)

[personal profile] towerjunkie 2021-08-20 09:28 am (UTC)(link)
[ Roland is silent while he waits for the laughter takes it's course.

He's said what he meant; there's nothing in his demeanour which suggests he won't do what he's said. ]
falcony: (DuL2x9D)

[personal profile] falcony 2021-08-20 02:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Sam’s eyes move across each one of the eyes, swallowing back how uncomfortable the sensation of seeing so many in places they’re not supposed to be. It’s true, he couldn’t be further from the curious child that Sam had spoken to on the porch. Who asked about fireflies, about safety. Sam shouldn’t be surprised by the change, maybe, but part of him feel so…sad isn’t the right word, but sympathetic.

He wonders what Jon has gone through to make it so the last time he felt safe had been so long ago? He guesses the eyes are a good clue to that, though.

Still, Sam feels his own tension ease when he sees Jon watching him. It’s a little crazy, how Sam can still feel attached, fond, connected to all the people just because of what the Horizon had created for him.

“You don’t sound all that freaked out.”

When Jon looks at Sam, he’s going to see someone almost exactly the same as the one he met in the Horizon. The only difference is rather than the easy happiness he’d exuded there, now Sam seems to have a low-grade uncertainty about him. Something more serious.

“You doing okay down here? Besides…” The obvious.
extremethirst: (>D)

[personal profile] extremethirst 2021-08-20 05:21 pm (UTC)(link)
"Guess those eyes can do a lot of looking, huh?"

Nero decides to draw back up close to the bars. He rests his arms against the bars, so that the two are as face-to-face as they can get. The elf even pauses to attempt to hold hands with Jon 'cause why not; the man has his arm out of the bars, anyway!

"I think I can actually get him out of here. But I don't think that it's going to end particularly well." His smile brightens his face, again. "And buddy, if you listened to our conversations... nothing of what I say is what Martin wants to hear."

A slight beat passes as he returns to the first question, not fully satisfied with his own answer. "I think people are going to die. Guards, nobles, possibly even some of you prisoners..." Nero doesn't stop smiling, however. "The price of freedom from these cells might cost a lot. Are you both willing to pay it?"
towerjunkie: (When it's over)

[personal profile] towerjunkie 2021-08-21 07:58 am (UTC)(link)
I'm not one to leave a job unfinished.

[ And he has the Death arcana embroidered on his tunic to back that up.

There's also an undercurrent of approval in Roland's tone. He can respect a man who does not shy from terrible things when they're needed. ]

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