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.

---

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

[tobeclosetohim]

He yells, anger and acid, and Jo is a child of both, herself. It means she hears that faultline, where his voice cracks. Nothing certain for its stage; not a rage steeped in time, planned, and planted, and watered. This is the rage it's easier to wield as a weapon when the ground doesn't stop fucking bucking you off itself without warning, when you need to hold it out, to be able to hold what you are in one piece. She's fond of that flavor herself.

"I don't-" Jo hates saying she doesn't know things, even if logically there's nothing to it. But she's grown tired and annoyed of saying it here, in this place where so little is known, and everything loves to fucking change at will.

But she's stepping toward that tray she'd shoved hard across her table. "I saw—" No. Maybe not a vivid description of her sudden bolt into madness. Except this wasn't the first time. Was it her? Was else going on? "The reflection was wrong." Beat. "Again."

[righteously]

( She says just, and he arches an expectant eyebrow. Waiting for her to do what he assumes she's gonna, what he did half a dozen times already: try and bamf the hell outta here. Try to do anything.

Never mind, then. Mhmm, yep. Exactly. No dice. Nothing changed — except for the sudden sound of stone grinding on stone, and that definitely gets his hackles up. He shifts like a German Shepherd suddenly on alert, ears perked up, eyes shooting toward the direction of the sound for a moment before flickering back to her. )

What'd you do? You did something, did you just Indiana Jones us? I swear to god...

[tobeclosetohim]

Try to keep up.

[ Not that he isn't already taller than her and well built, but Jo still says it, the oddest air of teasing and warning wound together in it, like to a child. He isn't, and she isn't, and she was born for this. But, unlike most hunters, who came into this alone and scrabbled out finding community, Jo was born into that community, and she loved the ability to have people in it with her. She knew what more people did, if they all could do the job, pull their own weight.

She runs into the fray, slicing the knee out from behind the first zombie of a group that have some terrified shopkeepers and their kids pinned into their space. ]

[tobeclosetohim]

[ Jo's not out in the open, but close as she might get to it, as she braced for the appearance of the car. Or whatever else the fuck might appear, sounding like a car. The moment of reminder, things in the Horizon, in the Labyrinth, turned and twisted right now; even simple assumptions can be deadly. Her grip on her sword tightens as it gets close enough it'll break cover in seconds.

But then it's a car, and it's slamming across the roots and underbrush she'd been so careful to move through quietly, and there's a guy—some random guy, again—throwing open a door and telling her to run for it like there's fire behind her, and she hasn't noticed yet. She doesn't need a second order, but even as she thinks that and is bolting for the open door: she hears it.

There's a weird wrenching sound like something being pried open and then roaring. Jo's heard enough angry, monsters to know the chilling sound of something that's recognized you. Whether that 'you' is her or a super loud car, hey, that's not kibble she needs to split. Jo's feet are moving, and she's only got her eyes on the door. Throwing herself into the passenger seat with a tumble of petite and blonde hair and gleaming wicked silver sword more than half the height of her while already yelling at the new guy: ]

Go, go, go, go!

[wiedzminka]

The world comes back in snippets. Hands squeezing hers, slippery wet. Geralt's voice (she recognizes it, but for a few moments, it sounds so far away). Her name.

She's forgotten she's in the Horizon. It felt so real, and she hasn't used her powers like that in a long time. Hasn't lost control quite like that in longer. When her magic had snapped out of place and hurt Jaskier, even when she'd let rage take over when Geralt was missing, none of it was like this. The sort of raw, confused, lonely fear that grew inside her like a poison, years ago.

The silence feels more deafening after the scream. It doesn't fade so much as die, suddenly and somehow just as shockingly, leaving behind cracks and ringing ears-- and Ciri, gasping for breath, wide-eyed and sobbing.

It takes her nearly a full minute to realize what she's done.

"Ger... alt..."

She tries to pull her shaking hands away.

[tobeclosetohim]

"I keep seeing them."

Did Jo mean to say that one? It's hard to tell. Jo likes to keep things incredibly close to her chest, and she's staring at it but not into it. Looking into mirrors. It's bad. But now that she's trying to avoid seeing her reflection in anything, it's like there are mirrors every single place she looks and expects to not find them because she never saw them there before.

"I don't think that was there last time."

Which sounds. Okay. Jo gets it. That sounds stupid. Someone could have easily put it up since she last came this way, and it could've been broken by anything among the mayhem and fights that have had to happen every time the undead cluster again. But. But it feels wrong. Like it's too often. Too many mirrors. All of them cracked. (All of them following her.)

[gynvael]

His attention never wavers from Ciri. He's aware, peripherally, that Dean and Jo are present, that they are witness, but there's nothing to do about it now. Can't do much about the blood, either.

All he cares about is Ciri.

A quiet relief curls inside him when she says his name, though it's short-lived as she tries to pull away. He doesn't let her, pulling her close. He's tired of this place fucking with them. Somehow it feels more personal now that Ciri's been caught in its grasp.

"I'm here." His hand cups her cheek. "It's all right."

[cointosser]

[Jaskier's entire body goes taut, awaiting for something to happen. To seep into his mind. The curse -- the magic? -- of whatever is affecting Geralt does not appear eager to reach out to him again, but as the machine roars and Jaskier closes his eyes against the sharp wind, he realizes it does not matter much if he feels it again. He doesn't need to. When he closes his eyes, he sees the splatter of blood, his insides in his hand. He does not even need to close his eyes to feel shrapnel tearing through his body.

Jaskier trembles as they ride. He had made an art of pushing the memory of Nocwich's final night out of his mind, to not examining it so hard. Another bout of terrible luck. A paltry bit of trouble.

Not a paper-thin shield of magic from death. Not even a shield he could control. A death he would have had no hand in.

By the time the ride is over and Jaskier is able to get off, his legs have grown weak, shaking. He steps several steps away from Geralt and leans over, hands across his chest, heaving. Nothing comes out, of course -- the Horizon is not real -- and there is nothing in his stomach to purge. His head buzzes. His stomach churns.

Jaskier wipes his mouth with his sleeve, standing. He looks up the Singularity, which feels bigger than it ever has. Even the one he visited in the world itself, even if it was only the edge of a crater. He doesn't look at Geralt as he passes by him, approaching this giant, humming monolith. (Well. He imagines it humming. To him, it truly is quiet.) Is it really alive, as Rhy and Ronan have insisted? Does it look out into the world that gazes back upon it?

The bard holds out his hand, feeling endlessly small, a mere inconvenience to this thing. Even on the Continent, he did not approach monoliths. He's never known anyone who has.

His fingers hover above the stone. Still, he doesn't feel anything. But with a swallow, he presses his palm flat against it.

And jerks back with an "ah!" He stares at his hand, as if he's pet a cat he was sure was stuffed only to feel it purr.] I felt something. I mean... I think it's vibrating. Is it supposed to be doing that?

[He touches it again, faint presses of his fingertips across the surface.] No, perhaps not a vibration. Quieter. As if it's humming to itself.

[cointosser]

[He snorts. Giving himself those breaths has helped alleviate this -- apparent very animated building of stress in his chest. It is unraveling. Slowly.] Impulsive. Ah, yes. A thing I am certainly not. And yes, I'm being sarcastic on purpose.

[No, he's right. Impulsive thoughts. Everyone has them, of course; Jaskier tends to voice them when he sees no reason to thread through them prior to their speaking. But no matter what his opinions on Adrian's strange family history is, he only knows fragments of it, and he is not in a position to be judgmental of how he handles both grief and memory.

Really, Adrian is rather reasonably balanced as far as emotions go when one considers what his strength is capable of. See: the fence.

Jaskier turns to him.] Not that that surprises me, but -- you've yet to impulsively insult me yet. However, considering your anger is... do not take this the wrong way, but rather easily accessed... this is very bad, yes. [And he can't decide why.

Exactly.

Jaskier pauses, clipping a nail into his cuticle as he fidgets.]

Worse yet: for a moment, I liked saying it. Not as me. As if a spirit set inside of me was delighted.

[gynvael]

[ Geralt hovers, reaching out to catch Jaskier. He should think better of it, but it's instinct to help his friend. Instinct and a twist of guilt that tells him this is his fault. Sharp, jagged, driving inside his chest.

Jaskier moves away soon enough. Geralt lets him go, joining him at the edge. He's passed by, of course. In the Horizon. Rode by, walked by. Not often, but once or twice. He'd always presumed it a reflection of the physical monolith until Julie approached it and told him it responded to her. He still doesn't know what it means. That this monolith exists as an entity inside the Horizon, as well. Is that what it is then? Their sole link to the outside realm?

He hesitates. Glances over at Jaskier. ] You felt something?

[ His gaze returns to the monolith. It is not the same as the ones which dot the Continent. A different material. Smoother. More structured, more uniform. The monoliths on the Continent had appeared like debris. Fallen stones.

A pause. Then he lifts his hand, placing it against the stone. His medallion hums. The surface is cool beneath his palm. He can feel the shiver of his medallion, but nothing else. Somehow, he isn't surprised. There's a reason he brought Jaskier with him. Witchers are magic, but they are not made to absorb its flow.

He drops his hand. ] It isn't responsive to me. Julie said it communicated with her. In some fashion. A humming, as you call it. I hoped—you could feel a link to her through it.

[cointosser]

[Jaskier is too distracted to nod and confirm, once again, at the question. He is facing not only the reality of his position in Nocwich, but that Rhy and Ronan may be, in fact, correct -- a thing that (nothing against them both) he had hoped was not true.

Because Jaskier finds he is not a fan of something this large, that he cannot understand, that does not communicate, that dictates all of the magic that flows in his body, having... consciousness. Sentience, even.

(Perhaps enough to undo what it has done, should it decide to do so.)]

I'm sorry, what? [He rounds on Geralt, shoving him on a shoulder.] Julie told you she talks to the Singularity and you never thought to fucking mention it? Before you brought me here? Are you absolutely off your godsforsaken rocker? This thing terrifies me, Geralt! It's keeping people alive and it talks and might possibly think! What if this thing decides we're all itty bitty ants in the grand scheme of things, and it's found a very shiny piece of glass to play with? Are there any other exciting secrets you're keeping from me? Perhaps you've both fucked under its shadow for a bit of excitement?

[He doesn't mean to say it, but like before, it slips out -- faster than he can prepare himself for, and with that curl of satisfaction, a cat supped on cream, right in the middle of this sick mix of fear and fascination. And, in the moment, he wants Geralt to feel shitty -- if only a moment -- for rotting his tree. For killing him. For --

Jaskier swallows.] I'm sorry. I don't mean that, either.

[enduringkestrel]

"I'd thought to," Cassandra murmurs softly, "but I'm not sure it's to be found, here." She knows this smell. Nothing good ever comes with it. The presence of Delilah looms large in the darkness, hovering over her shoulder. She can almost feel the woman's fingers grasping her shoulder.

"Are you well?"

[cointosser]

Why are you apologizing, dummy!! Don't do that!

[And traces of Jaskier's humor, too; and in the way Moglad clings back, dispelling his armor into nothing but soft moogle fur and the bard's cape he once wore. Right now, he is not needed as a protector, and Moglad has always learned to become what he is needed.

It is a necessary part of being a bard, Moglad. You must be what the people need. They will never tell you what they need, either; often they do not even know themselves. You must read their covers and glean the contents inside.

Except that's confusing advice when Moglad is rather sure Rhy is not a hard cover to read.]

You should come inside, kupo. I'll get you warm! You can tell me what happened, if you want to talk. But you can't keep shivering out here!

[thearchangel]

"Yeah, we did. A few times, in fact." Three different tours of galaxy saving nonsense. Well, two and a half. The current one was still a toss-up. Actually, should he even be counting the hunt for Saren? That ship... that hadn't made it. Among other things. "Our timelines don't quite match up. She's more than six months behind me."

On some levels, he's grateful for that. She hadn't seen her homeworld burn yet. Or his.

At the reminder of falling into other domains, he grimaces, all the plates on his face flexing with the motion. "Yeah, good point. Right then."

He moves to the consoles as well. Typing in the codes that should patch in the navigation screens to his own. Should - if they were actually aboard the Normandy. But that's what counts here, right? Intent. Envisioning. All that weird brain crap. And, thankfully, it does work. Garrus steps to one side, as a display blossoms to life, a miniature version of the Milky Way. Helpful markers popping up to mark major Relays, systems and homeworlds.

"There we go..."

[thearchangel]

Alchera

He goes very still. No, Shepard doesn't need to say anything else. He'd seen the vid reports. He'd read the news. He hadn't spoken with Liara, or Joker, about any of it - he couldn't. It was all too damn raw. And then after the Collectors? There was too much to do. For all of them. Shepard... he could never broach the subject beyond their initial meetings. It was cowardly, probably, selfish - what if she'd needed someone to stand with her in the aftermath?

Should he have? Was it making things worse by stepping around the topic with her? Should he have tried to go with her, to see the wreckage...

No. Back to the present. Focus. Shepard takes her hand back and he doesn't argue. Though he stays hunkered down beside her all the same. She looks like she's still trying to come out of it. So he settles for a hand on her shoulder, instead - easy to shrug off, but there if she needs something to hold her up.

"It's never happened like that before? Ever?"

He tries his best to keep a level voice, to keep all the echoes and vibrations from shrieking how concerned this made him.

[gynvael]

[ Jaskier's outburst startles him not only for what it is, but for why. Because he had not, in all truth, realized he failed to tell Jaskier what he knew. He can't explain it. It feels absurd to say it slipped his mind though that's the reality. That he hasn't been thinking straight for days now.

Though perhaps part of it is that he does not feel the same way about the Singularity as Jaskier does. He never realized, actually, that Jaskier was so fearful of it. To Geralt, the Singularity is merely a concentrated store of Chaos. Living, in the sense that all Chaos is living, but not sentient.

For a long moment, he stares. Then he looks away. It shouldn't sting, but it does. He's not only been afraid for Julie. He's been afraid for everyone. Jaskier. Ciri. How much death dogs his steps for so many years, chasing him and catching those around him. ]

Not talk to it. She said it stirred. Just the once. [ He is not, of course, aware Julie continues to visit the Singularity. As far as he knows, she experienced it only that time.

But that isn't the point. He falls quiet. Not angry, just quiet. (He's hurt, is what it is. It isn't about what Jaskier said. It's the reason behind his words.) His fingers run over the stone. He doesn't look back at Jaskier. The words tumble out despite himself, dragged forth unbidden. They scrape against his tongue like broken glass. ]

I don't know what to do. I turned around and she was gone. What if you're next? What of Ciri? What the fuck should I do then? I didn't decide to stay in this world to die alone. I could've done that on the Continent.

[thearchangel]

The whole arm incident was a surprise, to say the least. But it helped? Sort of. At least that was one corpse that was going to have a harder time grabbing onto unfortunate people. Right? Nah, he'll count that as a win. Especially in terms of a contest.

He has to match his stride to Claude's - not that unusual, considering he has to do that for most humans - so they're even when they hit the tables. A quick glance over to what Claude's doing, plus the nod, and he's shoving another table into place as a barricade. That makes two of them apologizing - if Garrus ever meets the person running this particular stall. Shop. Whatever it is.

"Range, I can work with." He's scooped his crossbow back up. Tracking the movements of the corpses. THWACK - one of them takes a bolt through the brain. "More time to pick your targets. Smart move."

The question gives Garrus pause too. He had his own count, sure, but not a grand total. It does seem like they're thinning out... "Think the wave's dying down?"

[cointosser]

What's spread? What's spread, kupo!

[Moglad's whole body stomps through the air, his paws thrown around. Why will no one tell him what's going on? He was only supposed to protect the glade, but why did he need to against Jaskier? Jaskier is his friend! And so is Himeka, but she's acting weird, too...

Okay, Himeka is always weird, though.]

So Jaskier brought the outside in here? Or something in here is leaking out? [The latter doesn't feel entirely right, though. Moglad hadn't noticed anything until the tree started wilting, and that was only when Master Geralt had visited. Then Jaskier came and the animals started being meaner.]

Can we reach them? I can help! Master Jaskier taught me to play, maybe they'll listen to music!

[cointosser]

Geralt --

[He doesn't need to ask if there was any effect when he knows Geralt so well. He can see that his words do have an effect, which -- it is not impossible, but Geralt shoulders all of his foolishness and genius so evenly.

He does not reach for his friend. His arms wrap tighter around his middle. Tight enough to squeeze. It nearly hurts. It does not hurt as much as dying.

Just the once.

Tighter still. It is a fool's errand to keep on pretending that he is above this, that he is not part of it. That he is not affected. Bleobheris is bold evidence. Moglad unable to stay near him. The death of the glade. Perhaps Geralt stirred death in his footsteps, but Jaskier did not bring spring back, either.

God. Why does it feel good? That's the worst part. The part that leaves him sickened. It is not him but it is.

Jaskier drags in a breath.] You're not dying alone here, either. [This time he touches Geralt's shoulder, and he squeezes. A curse -- whatever it is -- it cannot take away who they are, either. He will not allow it. Jaskier wants to... do more. Be more. More than a cowering thing in the face of that which is too large, too powerful, whether it be a monolith, or an empire, or the fears of a Witcher.] Something is wrong with me. I truly did not mean it. Nor, I think, did you mean to say this. Whether it's true or not. [He knows it is. Jaskier brings a hand to Geralt's cheek. Makes as if he might lean up and kiss him --

Instead, he simply pinches.]

I should have mentioned it. I've been trying to think... this wasn't happening to me. [He pulls away. His touch, in fact, may be as poisoned as Geralt's. (Hasn't he known that all along?)] I don't want to hear this talk of dying alone. We'll find her, Geralt.

[He moves back to the Singularity. With a final shaking breath, he presses his hand flat against it. He does not draw back immediately. He ignores the sickness in his gut. (This new fear of his friend he now has to carry with his own fucking death.) Jaskier closes his eyes and hums -- a tune similar to what he thinks that feeling within the monolith must be.

He jerks, but doesn't disconnect his hand. Though his pulse races in his throat, he is still.

There. In his mind. It feels nearly physical, but he knows it can't be. Like... the prod of a cat's paw.]

Hello? [He tilts his head back to look up at it.] Fuck. It really is -- [His fingers curl as he lifts his hand.] It isn't... talking. But there is something in there. I felt it reaching.

[wiedzminka]

[ Perhaps she's gotten too blasé about using her powers. But as she's managed to get finer control on her short-distance portalling, it's become a more frequent tool in battle. Alucard is a friend. She doesn't really think about it, jumping in to help him when it looks like he's about to get smacked again while he's still reeling.

Besides. He has plenty of his own weird tricks. Like floating.

Ciri pulls back, keeping her sword at the ready but for now refraining from interfering further while he's underneath the beast.

She does call out, though, over the awful wet noise of it: ]

That won't work, you know.

[ofthesword]

[Not that Nero's not willing to pull his weight, but he doesn't really know about this shit. What does he do? Look for sticks? This mountain doesn't have a single freakin' tree on it. So he just gets outta the way, expecting Geralt will tell him what to do if he needs the help.

The least he can do is keep a look out. Make sure his brain isn't popping out any more frosts. It's just -- the snow. The mountains in Fortuna. Hard not to put two and two together.

Nero's brows rise. Huh. Now that's a neat trick. He puts himself between the entrance and Geralt, but at least he's got some hot rocks at his back. Better than freezing his ass off.]

What? Surviving that shit's not magic enough? [He tosses a snort back over his shoulder, then turns back to face the blizzard outside. He shakes his head.] Not a magic kind of guy. Can turn into a demon, I guess, but it's not exactly flattering. I don't go around showing it off. [He rolls his shoulder.] Makes people nervous.

[ofthesword]

[Quicker than Nero can think "why seven, exactly?" they move dodged the needles Shadow's throwing out, and boy, is she bubbling. He seriously doesn't know what's gotten into her. Sure, the dead are rising, and maybe Nero's a little stressed, but --

The panther that Shadow usually is starts rising out of that bubbling, undulating black, her eyes glowing red, ears peeled back against her head.

She snarls.

Nero grimaces.]

Uh, about that... I didn't make her on purpose. She sort of just. Follows me around. Does her thing. [Shadow does not appear to care who meant to do what. She lunges at Nero now, her claws extending into far larger claws. He pirouettes back and just misses losing a leg. Come on, Mario Kart. She's only gonna learn one way.

[Nero's hand reaches back for his sword just as Red Queen materializes with her own roar -- the roar of an engine. He slams it into the ground, revving it.] Or just stand back and let me handle her.

[Which seems to involve Nero sprinting towards her, arching his sword straight through her with a yah! Blood spills up, arcing through the air, black as oil. She roars, claws scraping across the ground as she flips backwards, gaining more footage between them.]

[ushiri]

[ Kahlil follows after him, the dog bounding along at his side. ]

I don't know. Less than an hour?

[ It's difficult to keep track of time in a place like this. ]

Is this really Horizon?

[ That was his intention when he began meditating. But there's nothing familiar about this place, not even the the towering Singularity in the distance. Who would make a domain like this?

The door opens to a room that is inexplicably made of stone, covered in twisting strands of copper wire. They coalesce at the low ceiling, and Kahlil's face blanches while the dog whines.

Dozens of skeletons peer down at them forming a tapestry woven of bone and copper, fleshless human torsos with arms outstretched and their jaws wide and open in voiceless screams. They're all of a relatively similar size, though a few are small enough to have been closer to children than adults in life. The copper wire seems to hold them in place for the moment, but they struggle against their bindings and reach for Geralt. ]

[ofthesword]

You're yelling too!

[Okay, to be heard over the van, it's mostly necessary. He kicks a wheel and the van sputters a black cloud of exhaust in his face. Though he chokes out a fuck off to the smoke coming out of the window, the van shuts off.

At least the shadow isn't too pissed. Yet.]

Oh, well, thanks. Glad to know I'm not good enough to visit. [He doesn't care at all.] Where you trying to go? I can drive. In case, uh, poppin' out of nowhere isn't working out.

[ushiri]

[ As the spell is cast Kahlil feels a warmth bloom in his head, the stars in his vision coalescing into a blinding white light for a split second. It's painful, but jolts him back to his senses and his feet.

Down the hall he sees something else, the bright red glow of a strange weapon in Claude's hand. Kahlil would've expected a bow too, but instead he makes out some strange, malevolent looking axe.

Instead of shouting to answer he splits two fingers in front of his lips. It takes him too much effort to split open even the smallest slit in this space, but like the first time they met Claude hears directly in his ear: ]

I'm up - landed to your left.

[ Unlike the first time in the forest, though, his voice sounds oddly distorted and clipped. And even then he quickly abandons it as something large steps into the halo of red light coming from the axe, his shout echoing down the hall with the whirring of the machine rising behind Claude - ]

Behind you-!