EVENT #10: AFFLICTION - IC POST

[abraxasmods]

Event #10 - Affliction

go to the OOC event info & plotting post

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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?

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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.

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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.

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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.

Comments

[carmesi]

[it's almost at stephen's words that the levitation cloak tries a little harder to push wanda off entirely, a little more forcefully now. she does fall back onto the ground beside him, shoes shuffling on the dirt, hands keeping herself in an upright sitting position.

there's no apology. instead, wanda raises one hand and allows it to circle over her wrist's center a few times, familiar, bright red magic rising from the palm of her hand as a source of light.

—sure is stephen.

so, she tried flying out of the place and ended up... falling back to the ground? almost as if there was no rooftop, but some kind of wide-long portal that spit her back down. everything could be written down as magic in abraxas, but in a space like this, where she's stuck with someone else—? this must be similar to the mountain she was stuck in with claude, to the room with the television sets.

the horizon, but not quite.

why does she keep getting slingshot back into stephen? for how vast the universe at large is, this place, she lands exactly on him? wanda's puts her free hand to the wall behind her, helping herself up. red casts around them, filling in the space where the shadows don't reach.]

How long have you been in here?

[philancer]

[ Sylvain just downs the rest of his drink in one go and reaches to pour himself another. He's keenly aware of Claude's full attention on him now and while he's distinctly uncomfortable about it, he's not surprised by it either. ]

Something like that.

[ Did they still count as nightmares when they happened while you were still awake? ]

yesss thank you for this, my brain kept collapsing on how to start it 😭

[gynvael]

The sound is only part of what draws Geralt down the stairs. It's also a feeling from beyond the Horizon: an invasion that pulls at his mind. It isn't the first time, won't be the last, and when he goes down his intention is just to tell whoever's gotten lost they shouldn't be there.

But it is not a stranger he finds. It takes him a second, in fact, to even place the familiar silhouette; they hadn't exactly had a formal introduction in those woods.

He pauses at the top of the last step. His gaze flicks to the door. The lock has opened, but the door isn't entirely bolted shut on purpose. On the most primal level, Geralt simply cannot bring himself to open it—and it means the heavy iron door cracks open only an inch, two, stopped by an unseen force. At least for now.

If Lucifer were merely dropped here out of nowhere, it may have been different. But he can see the hand on his half-open door. He can guess where the knock came from.

Geralt gives a flat stare, unmoving. Not quite a challenge, but close. As though he's waiting for the demon to say something first, or try and break down that door in front of him. And if Lucifer doesn't react still, he'll walk the rest of the way, silently place his hand on the door—and, eyes fixed on Lucifer, shove it close again.

Not that it really muffles the screaming inside.

[philancer]

[ He greatly appreciates not being introduced to the leshy. He doesn't think they'd get along. Probably no appreciation for his charms.

So he follows along silently as the man leads him inside, his gaze taking in the details of the great hall with a keen eye. It's warmer in here, which he's grateful for, and relatively clean, too, although it's clearly not a keep like the Monastary he's used to. It reminds him much more of the border forts at home, if he's honest. Which is comfortable in its own sort of familiarity. His gaze lingers on the strange tree, on the objects dangling from its branches, but he doesn't question it. He's not sure it's something this taciturn man would want to talk about anyway.

Still, he accepts the mug of ale with a smile and a slight nod of his head in thanks, taking a sip and letting it warm him. ] I'll stay put. Although is this place going to start changing on me? Do I need to worry about what 'unpredictable' means?

[gynvael]

His head snaps up. That growl. It's different. The medallion shivers where it rests against his chest. He's distracted for a half-second, lets the wolf beneath him clamp its jaws over his arm. Fucking—

The weapon in Jo's hands click. Several things are happening at once: him, cracking the bones of the wolf beneath, the snarl from the shadows he can't see, and Jo standing there with a weapon that's failing. The wolf goes limp. He shoves the warm carcass aside, rolling to his feet.

What is it? Out there? The darkness yields nothing. Or, almost nothing. If he looks at an angle, skewed just right, there's a shape yet not. A flicker of a disturbance in the corner of his vision. He can hear its panting breaths, but there's no heartbeat to speak of. The only heartbeat is Jo's, racing.

A dagger needs a target to aim at. Aard does not. The burst of magic that ripples down the path slams through everything in its way: the torches scatter, flames sputtering; there's a canine yelp, the sound of claws scrabbling for a foothold. He moves quick, unhesitating. If he can't see it to strike, he can bait it to come to him.

[carmesi]

[the idea alone that whatever had transpired between them was just something she thought and that he just played along with—? it cuts deep. part of wanda knows that something about this isn't right, that matt does not mean half the things he is saying, but with the way she had let her walls down around him, she was not ready to shield herself from how sharp they are.

the potentiality of her being dangerous, that's what she's been trying to work on. maybe she can never be good again, but she would never be tempted by flights maddening and selfish desires.

if it's just her — and if matt never really believed that she would be worth redeeming — it's like standing in the wake of devastation, waiting for a cataclysm to unfold, feeling impossibly alone; building up all this hope, when it has always amounted to failure.

she takes a few steps back into the darkness of this place; something gives, and she can feel the threads of foundation of this 'room' give way, cracks that grow by the second.]

You don't mean these things. [she needs to believe as much.] You don't.

a.

[dirtytrenchcoat]

[The inconsistency of his own horizon and the fact that he keeps appearing in domains that belong to other people have only added to Castiel's doubt and frustration. It began with death, following him like a promise. It's not lost on him that his commitment to The Empty had been usurped by the singularity and this new plane of existence. He was with Dean and Jo, and that gave him some peace of mind but their respective timelines didn't meet. Knowing more than both of them, and to some degree, more than his own brothers furthered the constant dread that followed him. Koth, decay, the dream he never should have had just fans those flames.

Now, here in this horizon, standing before sigils that he doesn't recognize Castiel feels all the more lost. His fist curls, and relaxes as he searches the runes and tries to place their language. He feels small, amassed by the darkness of the room. The same darkness he was supposed to spend eternity in.]

[subhuman]

[ Dante really doesn't need some weird cat either, but removing the creature is the least he can do, right? Other than maybe hoping his bad luck with technology will short circuit these tv sets. ]

Right. C'mon, kitty kitty.

[ He reaches out to pick up the pesky feline, but when he does, it goes strangely limp. Instantly.

Did he...kill it? Well that feels bad. Not that anything here is real, right? All weird manifestations of people's desires. Or, well, things they'd rather not share as it seems here. ]

...I know I've got a good grip but every good man knows a gentle touch.

[ He looks around and puts the now defunct cat down away--out of sight out of mind--except the cat immediately stands and resumes it's loop.

So that isn't right. ]

[dirtytrenchcoat]

No malfunctions to speak of, even without Mrs. Butters being relieved of her post. Dean's not yet been made aware of her and given the treatment that she'd received she deserved to return home after her long spell of service.

Castiel wasn't expecting company but he should have, and he knows that. He's not the only one suffering the exhaustive side effects of whatever was influencing their turmoil. The dead were rising, and the Free Cities had subsequently shifted into chaos once more.

"Spend some more time in Cadens, and I'm sure the uprising will be more than happy to facilitate that." Castiel hasn't moved from his spot, a comfortable little nook that he's made his own. Had he not announced himself with the comment, he would have been just another part of the backdrop as still as a statue at the table with nothing else to accompany him but the deep frown-lines etched into his features.

[supersoldier]

[He’s climbed the stairs, which creak under each footstep. Something wrong about this immediately pings at his nerves and gives him that telltale feeling of unease. If Ciri was here, then why isn’t she responding? Had she already left? He would have seen her go out the front, and he is almost certain he would have heard her exit; the hollowness of this house amplifies every prominent movement.

Instinct has him gripping the hilt of his sword. Maybe it wasn’t her — or maybe she wasn’t alone. The possibilities churn through his mind—maybe the undead got her, maybe she’s dead, maybe you weren’t fast enough, the whisper in his head suggests—but he keeps a steady pace down the upstairs corridor, the brightness of his eyes casting sickly green light against the deepest shadows.

The hallway turns up ahead, his shadows splays across the wall. And then, interrupting the eerie stillness, Ciri lurches out from across the corner with her blade shining in the light spilling through the adjacent window.]

What are you—

[The sentence is cut off by the clang of steel as Sephiroth raises his own blade to catch and cross against hers. Were it not for years of training, she might have actually skewered him, and suddenly his heart is thudding in his chest, the usual shot of adrenaline careening through his veins.

He holds his ground. He doesn’t even push back. She must have thought he was someone else—]

Ciri, stand down! It’s me.

[princessvegas]

[ At least in the store, there had been the mercy of distraction. She'd had books, magazines, even a small boombox that could play CDs (as long as she had batteries). Here, there is nothing except the humming -- the air feels stale and stagnant. No wind, no animals, nothing that can make any noise to listen to. Just the blob's drone and her own howling.

That doesn't mean the words are loud. In fact, they're so faint that, at first, she doesn't even acknowledge them. Julie's lost her mind from isolation before, so she expects to start hearing barely-there voices. It takes her a moment before she realizes.

--body there?

She hiccups. Raises her head and glances around, eyes still brimming with tears. Not seeing any other possibilities, she hesitantly looks up toward the sky, toward the blob. ]

The fuck... ? [ Swiping at her eyes with a balled fist, she stares at the blob for another minute, then raises her voice and calls out. ] Can you hear me?

[dirtytrenchcoat]

The way that only an archangel could put Castiel on edge, that and the unprecedented visit on grounds he would have typically considered impenetrable. The glare goes unnoticed, Castiel's too tired to match step for step his brother's unflinching and unwavering ego.

"No." There's a pause, and Castiel acknowledges the comment about death but only barely. In technicality, he was dead now, after all. "It's more of a shared situation." Castiel's not sure why he's answering, as if Michael actually cares to know what his domain might appear as.

[cryptsleeper]

[As above, so below. Ciri may be striking from the back - Alucard is aiming for the front, his own sword angled up to dig into the thing's guts and hold it fast. Only a madman or an overly powered dhampir would think it possible to use the sword as a sort of leash or leverage to throw the thing in another direction, but that is the dhampir's goal.

Once up to the hilt, Alucard twists sharply, and the beast bellows as it is forced in the direction Alucard decrees. Southwest. Away from the crypt entrance, away from Alucard. He withdraws the blade, ignoring the stench of rotted entrails that follows, and watches the thing let out a sickening full body shudder.

It isn't enough. It's still standing.]

[godshattering]

[ Being indoors is a relief. To be out of the cold, no longer being pelted with all kinds of winter precipitation as if the mountain neither of them asked to be placed on is hostile to their existence - it's draining. Once again Claude feels fortunate they never had to march to Faerghus in that country's brutal winters if they really were anything like this one, but that has nothing to do with where they are. Especially not when Wanda seems to confirm she also doesn't know said mountain as he lowers the hood of his cloak, and he casts a curious glance her direction. ]

This isn't anywhere you've been before outside of the Horizon, then? Because it isn't for me either. Not outside of illustrations in books of the nation near where I was from in Fodlan, but I'm pretty sure the mountains there don't angrily toss someone to the ground they feel like it for trying to leave.

[ Speaking of: Claude grimaces while taking the cloak off since it pulls at those aches from that spill on the rocks, and - now his onceover is much more in detail in light of Wanda seeing death everywhere. From what he can see of himself, any injury's contained behind his clothes. That'll work. More important is looping back to something else she's mentioned, though. ]

You said you've been... seeing death? I've been seeing faces of loved ones, friends who died - like they're still alive and they're here in Abraxas when that can't possibly be true. [ There's a few seconds of silence from Claude because, well. It could be true, now that anything seems possible regarding who he knows from home, but he'd rather ignore that. ] Or so I hope, just like I hope your visions of death aren't.

[wiedzminka]

[ The clash of steel on steel jolts up her arms and shoulders, reverberates in her chest like a familiar melody.

She jumps back instantly, spins and comes back around low this time, all as if in one viciously fast movement, agile as a lightning strike.

The stranger who knows her name is nothing but a monster in her mind. Another one of the bandits after her, or maybe something worse. A vampire, a shapeshifter, an intelligent beast. She reacts only with savage brutality, the paranoia seizing her in its merciless grip, convincing Ciri she must defend herself. It is so remarkably easy to give in. Years spent fighting tooth and nail just to survive have warped, somewhere inside her, the killing instinct sparking to a roaring fire in her blood.

She loves the fight. The thrill. The power. She hasn't spent this long killing to live without enjoying it, on a visceral level.

It's that, usually, her better senses, logic and conscience are a little more in sync.

But not today. ]

[catholica]

You can read my thoughts, can't you? Well, get in there, Wanda, and see that you're wrong.

( he taps the side of his head and then laughs, humorless and dark. )

I mean everything I say. And then some. I'm only holding back because I don't want to deal with you crying. Again.

( he was going to owe...so much groveling later. )

[catholica]

( matt can't see but he can tell the cat does...something strange when dante reaches down to pick it up. it had been breathing, had a heartbeat, mimicking a real cat but that's gone quickly.

he frowns and glances in that direction. )

That shouldn't — be possible. I know cats can play dead or something but not that dead.

( not to where everything seems to stop like it was actually dead. )

I don't think you killed it.

[familysucks]

Rebellious and undying as he is, Lucifer has all too much in common with Castiel these days. Michael isn't going to stoop to insults of that degree, though. Not yet.

He sees it the instant the realization hits his brother, the moment his words transition from hanging in the air to understood. Acceptance is a separate step, but not one he's going to push for. Lucifer will come to it in his own time. Preferably in someone else's domain, so he can break their scenery instead.

That ability to read between the lines is one of the things he appreciates just as much as it frustrates him. It gets Lucifer into trouble, but he doesn't need to be led by the hand the way so many of their younger siblings needed to be.

One of the differences between archangels and simple angels, his ego would say.

Michael laughs without a trace of humor and leans back, perching on the edge of a table. Let him. That's nothing but bluster. He's not afraid of Lucifer, but even Michael is wary of their creator.

"And then what, He puts you back in your cell? He kills you outright? You join forces with Him?"

The Lucifer of his time had taken that bargain, though Michael can't fathom why his brother agreed to it. Maybe he'd truly wanted to be by their Father's side again, or maybe he'd seen an opportunity to double-cross him. Maybe it was just better than being dead.

[familysucks]

If bits and pieces (and entire humans) could be dragged through the bars of Lucifer's Cage, then nothing is impenetrable.

"The Winchesters, I assume?" Castiel is rarely separate from the brothers. Michael understands the desire to flock, even if he doesn't get Castiel's taste for Sam and Dean Winchester, of all possible humans. He's only bumped into Dean thus far, but he doesn't expect Sam to be far behind. "I encountered Dean the other month. He's younger than he should be."

Michael makes mock casual conversation as he continues examining his surroundings. He's sure he's seen that cat make the same loop around the room it has at least twice now, just as sure as it seems blind to their presence. As it comes around for a third pass he leans down and scoops it up. He's expecting a reaction of some sort, but when lifted from the ground it's suddenly as limp and motionless as a corpse.

'Weird choice in decor' doesn't even begin to cover this place.

[shadowthief]

"Fair point," she smiles softly, and it widens further when he squeezes her hand. It's nice to have the comfort returned. Especially when she catches the barest glimpse of Heleen disappearing around the next corner.

Further still when she hears the cruel, sing-song voice call out to her from some unseen point ahead of them now. "Little Lynx..."

Inej has no reason to think he might not hear her the same way she heard the voice intoning cruelties to him as well- this particularly horrible ghost from her past seems only to have gained power in the Horizon, assuming they are still in it at all wherever this maze truly is.

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo is staring at that dark, fingers on the gun covered in that black body sludge that isn't blood, trying to press hard enough, slipping just slightly. She can't see anything. It's just darkness. Just that sound. The slap of paws and scraping of claws has her frozen. Not even a gun this time. No other weapon. Her brain won't agree to move, slam into action. Even the weight of the sludge on her shirt feels too right. Soaked through, heavy-slick. Dipping everywhere.

Something happens suddenly, and Jo swings to look at Geralt (even as her brain s c r e a m s that's the wrong move, don't look away, don't look away, don't look away). His hand is out, and the ripples of magic are visible even when the hellhound isn't. Waves slam through the air, all too clear compared to the nothing still in the space the magic flares into, as the hound yelps, and the body can be heard rolling, hitting the wall, scrambling hard in its attempt to get back up, to fight back, that growl turning full-throated into barking.

It's not there. But it is. It's just a series of noises echoing.

Geralt still has his knife and canvases the dark in a rush. But, somehow, the sound of the feet, claws clicking, is between them next, nothing in the air at all still, but it's there, and Jo scrambles back into the wall, as small as possible suddenly, terror an unquenchable spike, hands dropping the gun as she's instinctively, desperately wrapping her arms around her stomach, her mind reproducing in every cell the violent pain ripping her wide open before it's even started again.

[shadowthief]

She lets out a surprised little, "Oh," and hazards a guess, "Do you know Lucifer?" Archangel is a word he'd used, specifically as a distinction when she'd likened him to Castiel, so it sticks out a little harder than the rest of his introduction.

"Sankt Demyan of the Rime is the patron saint of the newly dead," she explains. "with- with everything happening..." with the dead rising in Cadens, "he felt like the best to call on." She cants her head a little to one side, "I suppose you... intercepted the message, in a way." If he came because of her prayers, at least- or perhaps it's just the Horizon's instability at the moment.

Either way- he'd heard her, and she has to wonder if it's only because they were both inside the Horizon at the time. Or could it potentially extend further than that? She'd spoken to Lucifer about the possibility, but he'd seemed... lukewarm at best to the idea that it might work at all.

[gynvael]

The unseen creature charges—not at him, but at Jo. Paws pounding on the ground right past him. As though it hardly even notices he's there, a hound on a trail. He's expecting her to roll out of the way, grab her weapon, something. But she's pressed against the wall; her pulse spikes, thrumming.

He moves on impulse, dives in its path. Brings the dagger down blindly, wet fur under his hands. It yowls, a noise that pierces the air. Jaws snap, blood spilling hot and heavy. He holds it down until it stills, panting breaths silent.

(Invisible hounds. That's new.)

Shit. He pushes himself upright. He's sticky with blood, his own and the wolves. No injuries deep enough to worry about, though. His eyes go back to Jo. Has he got questions? Yes. But. They need to get the fuck out of here first. And he's not certain she'll appreciate being asked. He knows what genuine fear looks like. Whatever that thing was, she clearly recognized it. Encountered it once, likely.

He picks up the fallen gun. Offers it back to her—a gesture that functions almost as a hand to her feet, but not quite.

Are you okay? circles his mind before he settles on, "Can you stand?"

[assembles]

[ When Steve looks at the recently raised dead wandering around the bombed-out parts of the city, he can't find it in him to find it gross or even disturbing. It's sad more than anything else, that these people had been killed on nothing more than the whim of some distant queen, are now they're being forced from their makeshift graves by some so-called old gods.

Still, something needs to be done about them. It's rare for them to even be aggressive, given that most of them were civilians, but there are a few here and there that do lash out. Even those that don't, though, can't be left to simply shamble around like this. With their rotten skin, who knows what kind of infection they could spread?

So Steve's been on patrol, doing what needs to be done and putting them to rest once more. It's not hard to track them, and he's been walking a methodical route through the most damaged parts of the city.

Up ahead, he hears the telltale sounds: dragging gaits, unintelligible noises. A few bodies hitting the ground. And... something going up in flames?

He rounds the corner just in time to get a lit-up hand pointed right at his face like it's a smoking gun. Steve's arms shoot up to show he means no harm — not to the living, anyway — and then he realizes it's Ciri. It's a relief that he recognizes her, that he isn't mistakenly seeing some other face. ]

Well, I appreciate you not. [ He smiles wryly, then looks to the group of undead stumbling around further down the street, along with the one flaming corpse. ] Want a hand? [ She may not need it, but it will make the work go faster. ]

[nadine_he_loves]

So much for the desert being safer.

Nadine doesn't have her sword on her, and anyway, she's only ever fought creatures, not people. She isn't sure she trusts herself in that sort of fight. If Geralt says mount up, then she'll do it.

She stuffs the last bit of what she's been gathering into her bag and stands, beginning to follow his instruction. But perhaps she isn't as quick as she ought to be, not making moves to rush.

"Do you think bandits would risk anything this close to the city?"