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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.
no subject
"Martin's mentioned you. He says you have plans."
no subject
The elf presses his hand over his heart as he looks downright happy that he's being talked about by the human -- and he is. It's nice to have someone that he is so fond of share stories about the kind of person that he is. That also saves the trouble of easing people into the kind of person that he is.
"Plans are a bold word." Nero can't help but admit that he hates plans. He does better with orders than he does with having to figure out how to do the fucking thing himself. "They're a work in progress."
He tilts his head from side-to-side as he looks at the eye underneath Jon's natural one. "Blink, motherfucker!" But it seems like the eye won't. "Neat."
no subject
"They don't do what I want either," says Jon, rather flat. He's already extremely annoyed by having them, and by people staring at them.
"Is there any progress? Because I am very interested in Martin getting out of here. Before the 23rd."
no subject
"Uh," The elf draws the noncommittal sound out before the sound shifts. "Wait. What's happening the 23rd?" His head also twists around as he attempts to look out the window, like that would tell him what day it is.
It's an unfortunate side-effect of being immortal. He loses track of the days much easier than anyone else, because time doesn't really matter to him. Someone asked him how long he had been in Thorne; he could honestly answer that it has been a few days to a few months and not really know the difference.
"And don't you worry, Jon... I already plan to take good care of Martin."
no subject
"See, you say that and you remind me of someone that I would never trust with his safety."
no subject
His eyes close before he opens them. An amicable smile and his expression softens as he asks instead, "Really? It makes me sad that you don't trust me. What makes you think that, anyway?"
no subject
"It isn't personal. Only a first impression. I'm used to knowing more about people than what I can see, but here..." He shrugs a thin shoulder. "Do you think you actually can get Martin out of here, or are you just telling him what he wants to hear?"
no subject
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?"
no subject
"No," he can answer simply in the face of that smile. Guards, sure. Jon's pragmatic. But not the other prisoners.
no subject
Nero brings his voice down to a stage whisper as he grabs onto the bars. His disbelief is obvious on his face as he continues to spit out his questions. Honestly, he just wanted to needle Jon a little and hearing a 'no' really puts a damper on his fun.
If he actually says he doesn't want to be rescued, the elf will respect that decision. But he doesn't think that Martin is going to be willing to leave Jon to rot. Which is kind of weird. Who cares that much about their boss? Or is it just the camaraderie felt about seeing someone from the same world?
"The fuck do you mean by that? Are you fucking stupid? Did you really think you could get out of here without some of the bitches dying?"
no subject
no subject
Nero breathes out a small sigh. The elf wonders if Martin would feel so empathetic to the other prisoners, but it doesn't seem likely to him. Not because he thinks that Martin is some asshole, but like, he doesn't see much reason to care about someone just because their situation's shit.
"Seriously, are you fucking these people? Is that why you're so upset about the idea of them dying? I promise you... outside, you'll find plenty of nice sweeties that'll be more than happy to settle for you."
no subject
"I'm not interested in having this conversation with you. Or any other."
no subject
His hands grip the bars and leans his face into the cell. Jon is seriously fucking up his plans by being a little hesitant about innocent blood being spilled. He runs his tongue along the bottom of his teeth.
"Look, do you have any idea of what Martin's willing to sacrifice for you?" Nero smiles warmly at him. "Working with me, for example."
Only one other person has ever wanted work with him, after all.
no subject
"Did you tell him this much?" he asks, voice sharp. If he had his powers, he knows, that one would have crossed the line into a compulsion. "Tell him you don't have any plans other than mayhem?"