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ABRAXAS MODS ([personal profile] abraxasmods) wrote in [community profile] abraxaslogs2022-10-15 10:14 am

EVENT #10: AFFLICTION - IC POST

Event #10 - Affliction

With tensions heavy across Abraxas and all the destruction that's happened, it's no surprise that the dark shadows which sweep over the land go unnoticed...at first.

Winds initially stir in Solvunn, where the influence of the Old Gods remains the strongest. Slowly each Herald infects Thorne and the Free Cities, as well. The Summoned are the first to feel its effects and are the most heavily impacted.

Though no one will realize it until well afterwards, Nocwich remains unaffected. After all, the Summoned don't reside there.

NOTE: This event will deal with themes of death (people and animal) and horror imagery.
Emergence
It begins sometime in mid-October, around the 18th. Not everyone will experience it at the same time. You might even believe you're spared until days afterwards when you're visited by an unusually vivid dream.

The dream starts the same for everyone: you are going somewhere, anywhere, walking to your bedroom or enjoying a stroll on the beach. You might be driving down a familiar neighborhood. Wherever you're headed, you eventually come upon a stone tablet engraved with your Arcana. Laid on the tablet are three objects:
◎ A dead moth trapped inside a wilted rose, symbolizing Koth of Festering Lands
◎ A teacup inside which sits a single nightshade berry, symbolizing Adlewyrd of Poisoned Tongues
◎ An ornate cracked hand mirror that contains no reflection, symbolizing Sannleikr of Many Faces
Make a choice. Something inside your soul will be drawn towards one of the objects. Maybe you spend hours in the dream deliberating, but sooner or later, you'll pick one of the items up. The moment you do, the other objects vanish and the chosen Herald appears before you. Where one might expect a god to seek subservience, the strange figure instead extends a friendly hand towards you - as though it's greeting you as an equal.

Whispered around you, you hear its name. Then it fades and with it the dream. You awaken.
Affliction
You go about your day as usual. That's when you realize something isn't right. Creatures and people around you behave strangely. You begin to sense that you are the cause.

Depending on your chosen Herald, you'll experience at least one of its afflictions. The effects might start small, then grow. They might rush you all at once. You can't shake what haunts you, though you can try. Spells, potions, and willpower can help keep the afflictions at bay but you won't ever be completely free.

As the afflictions seep into your mind, you start to find shadows of it following you: a dead moth here, a nightshade bloom there, a cracked mirror elsewhere. You may even wonder if it's following you in the first place. What if instead, you are the one leaving these signs behind?
Corruption
The first time you inflict your ability on someone else, you don't mean to. It might be a stranger, some unsuspecting soul, or it might be another Summoned. Regardless, the afflictions that ail you seem to spread through you into another. Someone falls down as if in the throes of an invisible death or secrets spill. You brush by someone and they're suddenly upset and confused.

The more this happens, intentionally or not, the better you feel. You may grow full of life and energy, gain a renewed strength of heart, or radiate a charm that turns heads and garners compliments. The afflictions haunting you could even start to fade or completely vanish. And if you use your newfound power deliberately? You'll feel better even faster for longer. Of course, these boons are temporary, lasting at most an hour or so. When the feeling wanes, you might miss having it.

You are not possessed. You can't control this power that spreads through you, but how you respond or behave is up to you. You could be attracted to the allure of power, enjoy the boons you are granted, or realize you can gain relief from your afflictions if you choose a victim. Not everyone will fall headfirst into the pull. Some are not easily swayed by power, some struggle to overcome their dark impulses, and others would rather endure their suffering than inflict it on someone else. But others still might succumb to temptation and turn on those around them with purpose: once, twice, multiple times. The choice you make is yours alone.
Blight
With the call of the Herald at your fingertips, the world around you twists. No one knows whether this stems from you and your newly imbued afflictions, or if the Heralds are exerting power on their own. It's for sure easier to think of what occurs as the influence of something monstrous beyond your control. No matter the cause, the earth is changed all the same.
Omens
The omens arrive shortly after the initial Summoned receive their dreams, but they don't come to every faction at once. SOLVUNN is first, being home to the Old Gods' shrines, before THORNE and the FREE CITIES follow only days afterwards. Depending on where you are, the omens will affect things a bit differently.
Solvunn
In Solvunn, the ground stirs. A desiccated hand breaks through the grass, a cloven hoof. Human or animal, they crawl forth, animated against their will. Some might attack, but most do not. At the same time, crops around the settlements begin to fail. Some chickens lay rotten eggs while cows produce spoiled milk. Any livestock that perishes overnight will surface in the mornings with empty eye sockets - pecked out by crows or gnawed on by rats. From a distance, the ocean can be seen bubbling as leviathans beneath thrash.

Worth noting is that many of the dead are concentrated around the shrines, especially the ones deep in the woods. They're too decayed to recognize, and some might not even move from the site, as though they are waiting for the earth to take them again...or as though they once chose to give up their life at this very spot.

Summoned can assist by helping to cast spells or place warding charms around shrines, farms, and gardens to protect crops and livestock. As a commune, the Solvunnites will share their resources as much as possible and would appreciate those who might lend a hand bringing supplies, herbs, and offerings to neighbors who are lacking. The Summoned can also brew a common herbal remedy to aid any animals who have fallen ill or to help purify the well water.

Free Cities
In Libertas, the dead buried under the rubble dig themselves out. More crawl forth from graves in Cadens' cemeteries. Beasts and bandits slain in the desert wilds rise, hungry or searching for the ones who killed them. At the same time, dead fish wash up onto the shores of Aquila while birds fall dead from their perch, dropping like flies from an unknown illness. Vultures and other scavengers begin to prey upon the eyes of the dead, leaving behind hollowed-out corpses.

Worth noting is that in the Badlands, a few very old and skeletal corpses rise with a metal plate or two screwed onto their bones, which are also oddly elongated. Only one or two make their way near the city. The army is quick to dispose of them before many can notice. They will not disclose any information about this and will claim these are just monsters like anything else.

Summoned can assist by going on patrol with the soldiers to put down any risen dead. Merchant caravans are also hiring escorts for their journeys. Additionally, they can help look through any received supplies and packages to make sure the food isn't rotting or worse, use a special dissolving compound to purify the waters, and donate staple food items to refugees and the less fortunate who can't afford the rising prices.

Thorne
In Thorne, the dead emerge only from the outskirts of the castle city. Thanks to information from one of their Summoned and their recent monitoring of the Singularity, Thorne was able to act swiftly and was able to ward any royal or otherwise significant burial sites. Graves and tombs of less importance, though, will not be protected in the same way. There are fewer encounters with eyeless corpses, though some animals might appear outside the castle in such a state. Normally extravagant dishes from the Castle's kitchens use simpler ingredients as they struggle to ration their food stores.

Worth noting is that a few unexpected corpses make their way up from deep under the castle in places beyond the dungeons. These are twisted and mangled, missing limbs, heads, fingers. The castle guards are quick to dispose of them before they get too far into the rest of the castle, but one or two may be spotted.

Summoned can assist by contributing to the wards around Castle Thorne and the city, using spells to put down the dead without mangling the corpse, and taking inventory of food stores. Further, in Nott the situation is more dire for anyone who is traveling there to continue assisting with repairs following the attack. Nott will welcome help with any problems caused by the omens. It'll be clear the kingdom has neglected the city somewhat. Thorne will claim the Castle takes priority, of course, due to King and Queen residing there along with the entire royal court.
Apprehensions
Across the factions, locals are beginning to catch on that something isn't right with you, the Summoned. No one will say it outright, but there's an air of caution and wariness around you where you go. Merchants might be quick to hand you your wares so you'll leave or locals give you a bit of space when they walk by. Chatty innkeepers are more reluctant to hold lengthy conversations.

Much of the time, it may not be conscious. The natives might simply sense something off that instinctually makes them want to put some distance between them and you. The only exception? If you've chosen Sannleikr of Many Faces, you'll continue to exude your charm towards people you encounter. At least for as long as you continue to inflict that ability you've been gifted.
Displacement
Everyone responds differently while in the Horizon. You might exert better willpower over your afflictions or you might feel its effects more strongly. It all depends on the individual and their mindset. Regardless, the Heralds are only one part of the equation. There's a much bigger disturbance going on.

It could happen as soon as you enter or it might be as you're stepping over the threshold into another's domain. Whatever the case, you are suddenly not where you're supposed to be. Instead, you're in one of two places depending: transported into a domain you never meant to go into or in a foreign setting altogether.
Visitation
Whether you're the one transported or someone teleports unexpectedly into your space, the Horizon becomes unpredictable for the next little while. Rooms normally locked to strangers, areas you yourself may not even realize exists - you and your fellow Summoned continue to pop in and out despite your intentions.

The effect isn't painful, just disorienting, like missing a step you didn't see or stumbling through a door into a too-bright room. The person whose domain you've inadvertently visited might sense an unwanted presence, whether they're inside the Horizon or not, or they may be completely oblivious. This will depend on the strength of their connection to the Singularity and the Horizon.

Not to worry. You won't be trapped or anything in these cases...unless the domain you land in happens to seal from the inside. You might stumble on secrets you weren't meant to find, though, locked away in someone else's mind.
Ensnared
The less fortunate will be pulled into a space that they've never encountered before. The bizarreness of it resembles the glitchy visions that flashed through a few months ago, but rather than an image flickering by, you are now inside the space itself.

Trapped between minutes to hours, you can't use the Horizon's creation magic as normal. Attempts will falter or go sideways: trying to fly out might cause you to tumble, tools and objects are broken or not quite right, wounds don't vanish or heal completely, etc. More significantly, you can't seem to send or receive messages through your connection. Anything that manages to come through will be garbled and distorted. It's as though the place you are in is just out of the reach of your control.

Luckily, you may not be alone. Someone else may have gotten lost alongside you. They might already be there when you stumble through or they might arrive after you do. They might even fade out sooner than you, unintentionally leaving you behind.

Eventually, you'll be released back into the Horizon proper, spat out in a random place in the Horizon. While you're stuck, though, you can try to survive, explore, sit and wait it out, or make friends with your fellow trapped partner. Each area has its challenges and quirks that you'll need to deal with.

Scenes to Explore
JUSTICE ◎
FULL IMAGE

High in the clouds, these snowy peaks are as cold as they look. Giant marble hands reach out, though their sheer scale means you might not recognize them as hands from up close. You can scale the mountain, but if you try to go down, the hands will flip the mountain, which sends you tumbling to the top again.

It's up to you whether you can be injured when you fall. Maybe the snow will feel like marshmallows, or you'll break a bone on the jagged rocks. No two experiences are the same. If you have a partner, they could end up faring better than you despite being in the same place.

Conjure some warm clothes or a log cabin even if you wish - they might not manifest perfectly, but it'll be better than nothing. At least the view's fairly nice...while the sun is up. A blizzard will come through by nightfall. With it arrives a strange hovering light that entices you or your friend to follow it into the frozen darkness. What draws you out depends on you. It could be a familiar voice, an image, or a simple compulsion. If you're lucky, the person with you is unaffected and can try to stop you. Or maybe you're the one desperately chasing after the other person?

THE CHARIOT ◎
FULL IMAGE

From a distance, it's hard to tell if they're shipping containers or houses stacked atop each other. A gooey mess covers the ground below. Oddly, the smell isn't as unpleasant as the goo looks. It smells like bubblegum or cotton candy, artificial and sweet. When you first fall in, you might land inside one of the homes, on top of the stacked structure, or the ground. You can try to reach anyone else who's there with you, but be careful: the ooze is spreading. Climb if you must or move from room to room. If you don't keep moving, you risk getting sucked into its sticky mass.

Each block of a home is different. Some are furnished, whereas others are empty or filled with strange knickknacks. Some might even have subconscious creations spawned by you. Keep ahead of the gloopy substance, and you'll be fine, probably. Or you can try to fight it back or block its path by sealing yourself in a room or otherwise, which can slow it down significantly. Mostly, you'll have to hope you fade out before the pink mass completely consumes the landscape.

THE WORLD ◎
FULL IMAGE

The hazy neon glow obscures a nothingness that seems to extend forever. In the middle of the wet ground are several stacked television sets with wires plugged into nothing. Inexplicably, there's also a cat. At first, it appears perfectly normal, but keen observers will notice that its behavior is on a loop where it will walk a certain path, pause at specific intervals to lick its paws, and meow at set points. It does not acknowledge any of its intruders. You can break its loop by picking it up, at which point it'll go limp as a ragdoll. As soon as you set it down, it'll resume its actions as before.

While you can see the same images as someone else on the screens, it's also possible you'll each see something different despite being in the room together. What you see is up to you. It could be an old fuzzy movie, home videos of your childhood, trivia questions you have to answer correctly, or even a memory or vision you wouldn't want to share. Words or faces taunting you could appear between staticky flickers, or maybe your very thoughts are projected onto the screens for anyone with you to read.

Break the televisions if you want, but given a few short minutes, they'll reform between one blink and the next. Looks like you'll have to keep watching until you're released.

THE FOOL ◎
FULL IMAGE

Sprawling and massive, you're unlikely to recognize at first that you're trapped in a labyrinth. Stone walls rise around you, and your surroundings are pitchblack. Manifest a torch or a flashlight if you can, though these will be prone to going out at inopportune times. Escaping over the walls will only send you into another section in the maze.

As you navigate the twisting corridors, you'll encounter any variety of trials and troubles: gaps in the ground, spiked traps, haunting whispers, monsters, decaying corpses. Some of these might've formed from your mind, others might've spawned from anyone else who's trapped with you.

If you aren't alone, do your best to locate your fellow Summoned. Voices do carry and echo over the walls, and there could be landmarks that help you find each other. Finding the exit, however, is another matter. Walk and climb all you want. A way out is impossible until the Horizon chooses to set you free.

Players can pick any scenario that interests them from the four choices above. Unlike the visions from before, characters can accidentally be trapped in as many of the scenes as you want, as many times as you want. Another option is that they can stay trapped in only one scene while a variety of characters fade in and out to join them, or some combination of the two. Choose what works best for your plans.

Each scene will once again carry an associated Arcana etched somewhere inside it, which can change from person to person or instance to instance. It might be on a wall, a table, or on the ground. Characters with a stronger connection to the Horizon are likely to be trapped for longer but the extent of this is your choice and it won't ever exceed a few hours. It's also your choice whether the afflictions continue to haunt them or not. If you want characters to deal with both problems while stuck together, you're welcome to!

Generally speaking, there are no restrictions other than that they won't be able to communicate with anyone outside the area, they can't escape it until the Horizon chooses to release them, and their creation magic will go wrong just enough that it'll make things tricky.
funbreaker: (thancred-court-047)

d; snowy mountainside

[personal profile] funbreaker 2022-10-20 02:53 am (UTC)(link)
[ At this point, all Thancred wants is to find his way out of the Horizon, but it isn't making it so simple this time. In all the moons that he's been here, this is the first time he's been trapped on this plane, and it's enough to set him on edge. He knows his physical form should be safe in the space he shares with Urianger, that there's little reason to be concerned, but he doesn't like this one bit.

Surely if he had better control here, this wouldn't be a problem. It's his own deficiency, isn't it? Which means all he can do is push forward and keep trying, again and again.

But the harder he tries, the further into the Horizon he seems to fall. First, that labyrinth with Geralt. Now? He could very well be somewhere in Coerthas.

The cold feels real, the sharp wind biting through every layer of clothing. He tries to create a thicker coat, something like what he'd worn in Garlemald, but the garment that appears is tattered and threadbare. He lets out a grunt of frustration before realizing he's not alone. A voice sounds, penetrating through the noise caused by the whipping winds. ]


I can! [ He follows the voice around a bend, taking care not to fall on the uneven rocks and snow.

Then, he's met with a bright head of red hair. It's that stranger he'd met back during the Nightbloom ball. Sylvain, wasn't it? ]
The Horizon is being quite the bastard today, it seems. [ At least he's no stranger to cold weather. But where do they go from here? ]
tobeclosetohim: (No Damsel)

[personal profile] tobeclosetohim 2022-10-20 04:05 am (UTC)(link)
Waiting is not her favorite sport, even if how good she can be at it gouged into the deep parts of her too far down. She's in an awkward position, but she's been in worse, too. In a lot of ways, all of that is easier smaller. Less to worry about. Jo squints after him, semi-planning toward the possibilities. Whether she'll have to find a way to get in front of him, space be damned, or.

Jo gives a look, a good way back through the spiked path. It's darker now, without any light left down there, but she thinks she can make out the opening back onto that spot with the three open tunnels on it. Not that she trusts that dark or has forgotten the small room slamming upward into life and vanishing immediately after. Each time a new wall appeared behind them, giving them only one way if they considered turning back.

Watching him wedge through spikes that are very clearly digging in more, as the walls are getting closer in, is uncomfortable, and she can't tell if it's weird or not. But she grimaces a little when he pushes through that smallest area, the spikes digging into him more as he gets past them. He makes it through, to what, Jo can't see well, given the bulk of Geralt, the minute space of the passage right behind him, and the dark beyond their torches, but she takes his word for it and goes back to navigating the spikes around her.

When it gets tight, there isn't anything to do but what he did. Plow through, wince, grit her teeth, doing her best not to make a sound or move away each time one of the razor-sharp points clips or slashes her. It's so many less than him, but it's still not none when she gets to the last section.

Once she finally makes it the whole way, Jo switches the torch between her hands, rolling her shoulders and stretching her arms slightly in front of her body. It wasn't even long, but it's the residual feeling of hypervigilance against movement. "Well, that's on my bucket list for things to never do again."
gynvael: (039)

[personal profile] gynvael 2022-10-20 04:05 am (UTC)(link)
[ Jaskier collapses so suddenly, panic seizes Geralt's chest tight. He clutches Jaskier's shoulder even as he knows, even as he understands, that he is the cause. It's not happened since Jo, but he knows. He knows because he can feel it now, filling his lungs with a rush of pure air that makes his head spin.

He calls Jaskier's name once, twice, three times. The bard does not respond. He cannot see the wounds, the blood, but around him the flowers and berries wilt, crumble, rot, and his veins run hot with life. (These aren't even real fucking plants.) Jaskier cries out and shudders as though he's in the throes of death itself and—

(No.)

When Jaskier finally comes to, Geralt is bent over him, gripping his arm so hard it must be bruising. Genuine fear is etched across his face: eyes wide, knuckles white, his entire body tense. It consumes him so abruptly, so fully, that he can't swallow it down, can't think through it. Can't remind himself they're in the Horizon, that it isn't possible to die inside this place.

Fuck. Fuck. ]


Jaskier! [ He shakes him roughly, desperate. ] Jaskier, wake up please—
tobeclosetohim: (Un Huh Riiight)

[personal profile] tobeclosetohim 2022-10-20 04:14 am (UTC)(link)
With everything going on outside in Cadens and outside in the bar—where today it's just currently that the lights in the back won't stop flickering, no matter how long she stares at them and wills them to just be on—Jo's grateful no one's there, and she can retreat to The Bunker. Knock on wood, cross your fingers, and swear; The Bunker hasn't yet exhibited signs of malfunction.

Jo comes in the door, exhausted, catching sight of Cas' hunched shoulders from the back. Even as she's just heading down the stairs, she calls down, "I know I said I missed things being like home, but I think I'm missing not having viscera in my hair now."
dirtytrenchcoat: (pic#10315942)

[personal profile] dirtytrenchcoat 2022-10-20 04:20 am (UTC)(link)
One scarcely has to be in the same area as Michael to be made aware of his huge presence. It's a towering and imposing thing, and it casts a shadow over him easily, the way it might any other angel. Castiel has learned to act in defiance of that feeling and in his rebellion has learned to reject the host altogether and find his own path.

"Hello, Michael." Castiel's hackles are up the moment he senses that he isn't alone. Of course, the comment that finds him in the silence of the room is one he's heard too often for comfort. "What's supposed to be doesn't always happen. No such thing as 'certainties,' especially not here."
ordinar: (♛ 041)

[personal profile] ordinar 2022-10-20 04:49 am (UTC)(link)
Panic spikes as he realizes that Inej might actually be able to hear the whispers too. Until now, nobody else has reacted to their barbs — he assumed it was his own brain trying to cannibalize him. Wilhelm plays it off as if he's just as surprised by the sourceless voice, and tries to focus on...anything but that.

The pattern of their footsteps, for one thing, as they start down the corridor. Except hers are silent while his tentatively tap along, just as lost as the rest of him.

"I tried before, but...it didn't work."

He leaves her to think that it could have something to do with the idiosyncrasies of the Horizon.

What are you afraid of burning down this time? the voice probes. His shoulders tense like walls raised in defense.
thedevilwhorose: (Default)

[personal profile] thedevilwhorose 2022-10-20 05:10 am (UTC)(link)
[Lucifer appears with the eerie static of an old-tuning radio, the white noise in-between fitting for the surrounding TVs. A "gift" from the Singularity for Lucifer, but maybe it's just another ill omen for Jack.

He looks around, ignoring the screens and focusing on Jack playing his video game.

(The remaining screens all show the same two things. They alternate between quick cuts of complete darkness with muffled thunder and streaks of lightning, to an empty, grayed-out world, this particular scene covered in sand and dying plantlife, and one, giant spikes embedded in the ground.)]


Well. This is pathetic. Did your lovely untrained abilities bring this into existence?

[Lucifer was certain he entered into the Horizon, but he feels an absent connection to his body so this might, once again, be the fault of Jack Townsend.]
londonbound: (seventy-five.)

castle thorne.

[personal profile] londonbound 2022-10-20 05:12 am (UTC)(link)
(( cw: alcohol & substance abuse, possible nsfw ))

[ He's drunk. Been drunk for days, at this rate, and making short work of his stash of strange little green candies purchased from Oleuni Square what feels like a lifetime ago now. It quells the whispers, if only slightly. Makes his vision pleasantly soft and fuzzy. His words slower to tumble out, even if it doesn't temper them completely. It dulls the nightmares and the guilt.

None of this is new. But he used to be better at handling it. Now, he simply doesn't care.

Giving in to vice is easy. Easier than ever.

He flirts with the castle staff more than usual, bordering on uncomfortable, not realizing the maids are trying to slip away from him because they don't want to attention, or the serving boys are dodging his stares. Never aggressive, Rhy does get a little too enthusiastic these days. Shameless.

When he slips into one of the baths in the castle that's supposed to be private, away from the main bathing hall, and he finds it already occupied--

Rhy simply lets his towel drop anyway and slips right in alongside Kyle. He offers the bottle of wine he's brought with him, perfectly casual, smiling distractedly. ]


Evening.

Water's nice.

Good view.
Edited 2022-10-20 05:12 (UTC)
londonbound: (seventy-two.)

[personal profile] londonbound 2022-10-20 05:22 am (UTC)(link)
[ This visitor does not walk up to the great tree, doesn't use the path or the stairs.

He appears, simply and suddenly.

His clothes are wet and rough with sand and salt, wisps of dark curls clinging to his damp cheeks and neck; he isn't wearing shoes, and his shirt is open, dirty and wrinkled, hands scratched-up and raw, lips chapped and windswept.

He appears on his knees, hunched over. Breathless and sobbing.

It takes him a minute to realize the smell of seawater and decay has suddenly gone. ]
thedevilwhorose: (and I will take control)

Lucifer | The Devil | Thorne | Sannleikr

[personal profile] thedevilwhorose 2022-10-20 05:24 am (UTC)(link)
(Closed prompts.
Just to be safe likely warnings for violence, blood, horror in general and dumb archangel siblings.
Plotting Comment. Hit me up if you're interested in doing something! I'm almost out of my chaos for the month so I'm too tired not doing open prompts this time.)
thedevilwhorose: (Default)

Closed; Michael

[personal profile] thedevilwhorose 2022-10-20 05:26 am (UTC)(link)
How many times must this wretched place make him go through this mockery?

This isn't his domain. It isn't sourced from the same limbo lightning that he can't erase. So why is it here? All the issues he's faced lately in the Horizon haven't spawned something so inane as his Cage, waiting on his periphery, calling to him—and no, maybe that's the whispers.

His recent high from afflicting a street denizen of Thorne is waning, perhaps. Or maybe this new stress is making it fade faster.

He steps towards it, unable to resist. So rarely has he seen it from the outside and grounded like this. It's just the Horizon, right? This can't hurt him and all that absolute nonsense.

He presses his hand to its side and—and like how he found himself here instead of his domain, like he's missed a step, he's falling forward, passing through and—

He's in a diner.

What the hell.
londonbound: (seventy-nine.)

[personal profile] londonbound 2022-10-20 05:27 am (UTC)(link)
Kell's gone somewhere; Rhy isn't sure where. He isn't sure what sorts of terms they're even on, despite Kell's desperate, visceral relief when he'd first woken up. It doesn't fix anything.

And, as he's quickly realized, nothing has fixed itself, either.

Disoriented and unnerved, Rhy turns immediately to the salve he knows best: drink and distraction. For him, it feels like weeks. Here, it's been only a handful of days.

Already, he hates to be alone again. He'd just been getting up to go somewhere, anywhere, when the knock sounds. Rhy opens the door a moment later, wide-eyed and rumpled. Confused.
thedevilwhorose: » f ApocWorld (ever creeping)

Closed; Ciri

[personal profile] thedevilwhorose 2022-10-20 05:58 am (UTC)(link)
“This is your fault we're in this mess!” Lucifer shouts. He's much less rocking the unwashed look she remembers him as, instead trapped as a particular appearance, the Devil arcana embroidered above his right collarbone.

He's bracing himself in the doorway of a one-room suburban-designed home. (He feels like he could blame Wanda for that one, but if he's passing blame around, it's not going to be at her.) Lucifer takes one swift kick to knock the woman from her perch before making to clamber up over the door and to the next odd structure.

It's possible they've gone on like this for awhile, with Ciri's hand at his throat in the beginning and the gut-wrenching vision filling Lucifer's thoughts that this scrawny thing that she is actually managed to kill him at Nocwich, instead of him escaping.

He's seen it happen a few different ways now. Choked out, stabbed by the knife he stole from her, stabbed by an archangel blade that she shouldn't have, the weird bug mechanism she was holding exploding—he thinks they both may have died in that one.

It's really why he blames her for this entire warped scenario, but he doubts she's the one making the ooze spread.

He's hoping this time he's dislodged her enough to get ahead of her, getting his grip on the bottom of another house, climbing further, and flinging the door open.

What bursts out with a hideous shriek is a Gealaci Kucing of all the damn things, and he falls back down to the previous housing structure, the feline-like creature skittering above, tail idly swinging in its temptation.

Your fault,” Lucifer emphasizes angrily at the woman, like the first time wasn't enough.
satanicpanics: (pic#15980048)

[personal profile] satanicpanics 2022-10-20 06:15 am (UTC)(link)
[ Eddie does accept it as a joke, and it eases his anxiety just a little bit. He snorts, and that “I can and will die right here if anyone raises their voice at me” expression on his face lifts a couple degrees. ]

Oh, shit, my mistake.

[ Despite the joke, he’s clearly nervous, his fingers twitching and his feet shuffling against the floor, ready to bolt if need be. Geralt is intimidating, but he doesn’t seem vengeful when it comes to intruders in his big creepy castle, so Eddie scampers after him. He’ll never say it, but he’s more than happy to leave those mysterious screams behind. ]

Uh, yeah, pretty much. Sorry, dude. You know, you might wanna consider hiring a maid—

[ He watches as the blood disappears, and his joke dies on his tongue. ]

Or not. Uh...I’m Eddie.
thearchangel: (Here we go again.)

[personal profile] thearchangel 2022-10-20 06:39 am (UTC)(link)
"Took me a while, too."

No shame in admitting that. Even as Garrus approaches the man with the slightest of swaggers he can't really subdue. The proud little cant of his head is harder to keep under wraps. It was a good shot. But there's no real shame in trying to figure out a new weapon.

He looks down, still holding the crossbow at the ready. Just in case. You never knew when the husks would pop back up, after all. It made sense that these organic corpses would follow the same pattern, didn't it? Or maybe they were different, without Reaper tech to spur them on. "Practice makes perfect. And it looks like we're getting a lot of practice."

This corpse may be grounded. But more were out there. However, for the moment, they have some breathing room. He shifts the crossbow to one hand, and offers his newly freed one out to the man. "Garrus Vakarian," he says, by way of greeting.
ofthesword: (--006)

[personal profile] ofthesword 2022-10-20 07:15 am (UTC)(link)
[Nero's eyes narrow as he scans the snow-crusted mountain around them. Plenty of outcrops, cliffs, jagged rocks tall enough to hide a body behind it. He's not exactly worried about being ambushed out here; if Geralt wasn't some weird not-human guy, Nero doubts he'd be weathering this so well already.

Honestly, anything pickin' a fight with the two of them is really gonna have a bad day.

The wind howls against the mountain, over its peak, but there -- there it is. The telltale sound of creaking ice, like a frozen lake indelicately stepped onto.

He doesn't need to see it to feel it -- demons still ping through his blood like a laser shot. The Devil Bringer was a part of him, and while he's not out here glowing like a lamp, it's not about to let one get the drop on him, either. Nero sidesteps just as a trio of jagged icicles shoot through the space he'd previously occupied, thrown with so much force they embed right into solid rock past him.

He whistles.]
Man, you guys are still around? It's been so long! I was thinkin' you'd forgotten about me. [And out of the storm of snow around them step a trio of Frosts, standing like knights with ice shaped like shields forming their right arms. The one that shot off the icicles that form its hand raises its arm, regrowing them as Nero watches. He grins.] Oh. If looks could chill. [He gives Geralt a glance.] Well, you need some more practice with demons.

[He punches a fist into his other hand, spreading his legs. Fine. If the Horizon wants to throw some shit at him, why not? He could use the distraction. (Outside the flash of light just past the Frosts, drawing his attention again. Is it -- beckoning?]

Come on, Geralt. Let's break the ice!

[Nero dives straight for the one in front, punching it right in the face with a yell. Ice cracks underneath the force of his fist, and even if the skin of his knuckle splits and spills blood over the demon's face, it heals almost as fast as it happens.]
cointosser: ([121 - S2])

[personal profile] cointosser 2022-10-20 07:30 am (UTC)(link)
[Jaskier is fully unaware of how deeply, how thoroughly, death takes a hold of him in that moment until he is opening his eyes again, to Geralt's hand crushing his arm and that thick, honey voice of him like the scratching of animal claws on a rock. Crumbling, broken.]

Geralt -- [It is the exact way he has heard the name come from his throat once before: buoyant on a mouthful of blood.

He sits up, spitting it out, his stomach turning over with the nausea of deep, copper swallows of the stuff. He heaves, but nothing follows the blood.

And then, all at once, it is gone. He is left lying only among the nightshade. And. Geralt. The Witcher.

Jaskier looks at him with his eyes wide, his face gone white.]
What... what was that? [Geralt's hold on him hurts, but among everything else, he can't parse it from the rest. From the pain of his body being blown apart. From the wet stretch of his insides in his hands. He grabs blindly onto Geralt's shirt with his other arm, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.] What happened?
philancer: (037)

[personal profile] philancer 2022-10-20 11:25 am (UTC)(link)
[ Good question.

Sylvain has no idea how much of what's happening right now is actually true to memory, which means he has no idea if the fire started at the gates or in the cathedral. Which left... ]


The stables. We can get out through the paddock. It's probably the safest exit. [ He hopes? ] This way, we can cut through the courtyard. I don't think the fire has hit the other side of the hall yet. Follow me.

[ Making sure the other young man is with him, Sylvain turns to lead him away from the arches he'd seen earlier, skirting along the edges of the garden instead.

His steps falter for a moment when he spots the table under the gazebo burning, expression falling, but he just pushes on, expression stubborn. ]


How did you get in here?
philancer: (019)

[personal profile] philancer 2022-10-20 11:28 am (UTC)(link)
[ He wasn't actually expecting an answer to that, so this is already an improvement from five seconds ago.

He pauses, turning in a circle as he tries to find the source of the voice and finally spots a slim form down near a turn in one of the twisting corridors around here ]


No? Why is that?

[ Should he be worried? ]
philancer: (020)

at least there's no dragons

[personal profile] philancer 2022-10-20 11:36 am (UTC)(link)
[ He'd been trying to get back to his Monastery himself, but apparently the Horizon had other ideas today. This wasn't Geralt's courtyard anymore, but it still seemed to be snowing just as hard. At least he did have the one benefit of still having a cloak wrapped around him. Even if it did look like Dimitri's.

He's no stranger to cold, either, and this reminds him far too much of familiar landscapes in Faerghus, but he hears a voice call back and turns in relief at the sight of someone else here. Even if here was a terrible place to be, it was better than here alone. Right? ]


Thancred? [ Relief, when he realizes he recognizes the figure approaching. ] Yeah, no kidding. Uh, is this your domain?
philancer: (005)

[personal profile] philancer 2022-10-20 11:49 am (UTC)(link)
[ At the mention of Gronder, Sylvain winces, immediately knocking back another long swallow of his own drink. He has a feeling they're both going to need more. ]

Shit. No wonder you're drinking. I hadn't even stepped on the field yet before this place yanked me here, but facing that place is enough to give me nightmares, too.

[ He doesn't even mistake Claude's meaning for anything about their childish mock battle there. No, he knows exactly what Claude is referring to, even if he doesn't have the details of what he knows from the other man. He's not sure he wants to know them. Not to mention, nothing seems to go the same in Claude's world, not from how he remembers it. Maybe it was different? ]
catholica: (CC_158)

[personal profile] catholica 2022-10-20 12:05 pm (UTC)(link)
Not really a cat person.

( and something tells him that this cat isn't something meant to give him comfort and contentment.

at the sound of someone else, he picks his head up, eyes narrowing behind his dark glasses. )


Feel free to take him home.
philancer: (017)

[personal profile] philancer 2022-10-20 12:24 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He doesn't miss that you evaded that answer, sir. Right, that's real reassuring.

But he eyes the area the man indicated a moment before giving a nod. ]


I think that would work. I'm more used to doing this on horseback, but I can adapt easily enough. High ground would be wise, though. [ Realizing he had no idea what to call this guy - and continuing to think of him as a blonder almost-as-grumpy version of Felix wouldn't work long term - he turns and holds out his hand. ] Sylvain, by the way. Think I skipped that part before.
aquilus: (modern - twilight)

[personal profile] aquilus 2022-10-20 04:10 pm (UTC)(link)
A fair point.

[He wouldn't put anything past the magics in the real world, much less the Horizon. Assuming that's still where they really are, considering how their creation abilities of gone awry.]

Then let us move forward. There must be an end to this somewhere. If there is not, I'd rather die on my feet than wither away in place.
aquilus: (modern - t-shirt)

[personal profile] aquilus 2022-10-20 04:10 pm (UTC)(link)
Thank you.

[His words are clipped, focused, not unappreciative of the compliment but more concerned with the things that could kill them — and the things that are already dead.

After a moment of consideration, he stabs his sword into the still-living head, strong steel punching through bone; when that does little to cease the chattering, he flings his blade to the side, sending the head sliding off the sword and sailing somewhere into the middle distance. Only then does he glance back at his fellow Summoned, taking advantage of a momentary lull in the fighting.]


I've fought many men. This is not how it usually goes.