EVENT #10: AFFLICTION - IC POST

[abraxasmods]

Event #10 - Affliction

go to the OOC event info & plotting post

---

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.

Comments

[gynvael]

[ Welcoming. He hadn't thought of it in that sense, but he sees what she means. Seems fucking ominous. Welcoming what? The truth is, for all that Geralt is familiar with prophecies and Destiny and visions, he is rarely at the center of them. They've been about Ciri, about...

He clears another vine. Slowly, they begin to retreat from the walls, and a little more warmth returns to the keep. Some of the blizzard recedes. ]

Mm. [ How to describe? Geralt settles on the simplest answer. ] Big plant. I assume we all saw the same creature.

[ That is, in fact, incredibly incorrect, but Geralt is not yet aware that this is so. ]

[hairington]

Oh.

[ it did consume my motorbike. steve is momentarily haunted by the image of pink sludge crawling up the sides of a motorcycle, and then by the idea of that consuming a body, and after all those weird old horror movies robin forced him to watch that one halloween, steve's decided that actually, you know, he's fine with not knowing the details of it for now. ]

Yeah, I'm good to avoid it altogether. [ by the time steve's attention is back, geralt is moving up the ladder, the wood creaking under his weight. geralt is shifting boxes and crates around when he climbs up, and then steve is following soon after, and for good measure is reaching down to grab what he can of the ladder and pull it up after him.

maybe it's the action of it - maybe it is something more - but he's hit with a sudden, uncomfortable feeling of nostalgia as he adjusts his eyes to the room around them. it's an attic, nothing special about that, but there is something of the boxes of the stacking and the size of the room that has him feeling...well. like he's been here before.

he pushes to his feet, frowning slightly as he looks around, trying to place it, but also wondering if he should even bother. they have a direction they're headed, after all. there's no real point in lingering. ] If we're going to keep going up, we might need to find some windows. [ steve, propelled by this thought, steps around one of the crates that now isn't much of a crate at all, but instead a large plastic tub labeled, in large block letters, CHRISTMAS. he doesn't pay it that much mind as he steps around the box and immediately stubs his foot into a small metal tricycle, pain shooting up through his foot. ]

Shit! Why is this even...

[ wait. steve's eyes widen when he gets a good look at the small toy, then as he looks around them even more.

there's a reason he recognizes this space, why the boxes feel a little too familiar. this is his attic, from back in hawkins, except...not. ]

[tobeclosetohim]

[ Jo laughs unexpectedly—a rich, warm sounds, unconcerned with location or goings on—punctuated with the slice through a rotting, already dangling shoulder that she slices though. It lands wet and solid on the ground even as she's going for the next, not quite noticing the close-in around them on all sides starting to happen as more zombies from other streets are drawn to the noise they are making.]

Must have been one hell of a teacher.
You got a business card for him?

[gynvael]

[ The attic, to Geralt, is nothing special. Different than the kind he's used to from home, from Cadens, but he recognizes modern trappings easily, can even understand what the large box labelled Christmas means. Not until Steve says something does Geralt step away from the wall where he's making an attempt to either create a door or a window into it. (So far, ineffective.)

His gaze lands on the miniature bike, with two extra wheels. ] This place. You know it?

[ The answer is clear even before he asks. Of course Steve knows it. That is what the Horizon does. Shifts and changes through their memories. This...what is it? His home from childhood? A friend's home?

Well. At least it isn't Geralt's childhood memories. A small attic filled with sentimental trinkets doesn't seem so terrible a glimpse into another's mind, even if it does make him feel a bit like he's intruding. ]

[funbreaker]

[ Given that the Horizon is a place that takes their thoughts and makes them reality, at least in the confines of this plane, Thancred realizes that this shouldn't be a shocking turn of events. If the Horizon is setting traps for them, why wouldn't it pluck ideas from their very own minds? Granted, creating something with a thought is quite different from the Horizon taking that power into its own hands. It's not exactly pleasant, knowing that any of his memories might be on offer to become manifest at the whims of this place.

Thankfully, turning into a frog for a brief period is rather innocuous when compared to some of the other potential options hiding in Thancred's mind.

With how unpleased Geralt — even in frog form — appears to be, this isn't something that Thancred will be forgetting any time soon. Hopping around for a short while is well worth the chance to see frog-Geralt with his sword still strapped to him, wearing that usual grumpy expression.

Thancred hops after Geralt into the small pond that's a part of this room. How kind of the labyrinth to give them a place where they can swim around or jump onto lily pads to their heart's content.

He happens to know that these effects tend to simply wear off with enough time. They have to wait it out, plain and simple. He can't actually communicate this to Geralt, though he does make a few croaking noises in a bold attempt all the same.

After that, he steps forward into the pond, letting his webbed feet send him gliding through the water. He'd be concerned about getting his now tiny gunblade wet in other circumstances, but it hardly matters here. Just let the frog experience wash over you, Geralt, and they'll be back to normal soon enough. (It could be worse, after all. They could be in the middle of a fight.) ]

[hairington]

[ steve is starting to wonder if he even likes this horizon place. the promise of creation and finding somewhere that almost felt like home had been appealing at first, but it feels like all this place has done is warp and change what he's intended. the creatures and the upside down, the russian base and his torture room, and now this... now, granted, on a scale of things this isn't nearly as bad as the others, but it's starting to pile up. to feel like something is inside his head and won't let go.

and it isn't as though his memories of this place are clear, but rather the feeling of it. the dust, the weird pressure the wood and insulation created, the way it was just as lonely and empty as the rest of the house, but this could at least be his to control.

steve blinks when geralt asks, pulling back to the moment, and nods. ] Yeah, uh- this is my attic from back home, but it feels weird. Or- not weird, but different. [ and, as if abandoning everything he'd just said about finding some kind of door or window, steve starts searching through the stacks of boxes, looking for something that he doesn't even know if he wants to find.

he pulls aside a stack of boxes and finds it not a few minutes later, and he comes to a slow stop. behind the box isn't anything particularly interesting, but at the same time, steve had almost forgotten about this - the little stack of comics and magazines, the small camping lantern, a pillow he'd stolen from one of the couches down in the sitting room that his mom talked about missing for years but could never find.

set atop some of the dusty pages is a flyer, photocopied and mass printed to be passed out around hawkins middle school. steve, confused, picks it up and reads the text, feeling a little like the air is punched out of him when he does. HAWKINS MIDDLE SCHOOL PRESENTS: THE ANNUAL FATHER-SON BREAKFAST BASH! ]

[gynvael]

[ Geralt steps to the side as Steve starts pulling forward paper crates, digging through them. His brows are furrowed, considering. He doesn't know what Steve is looking for, and he has a natural reluctance to do any digging himself, given that this is evidently personal.

Even so, when Steve digs out a parchment—paper—of a photograph, the quality a bit blurry, he can't help peering at it, at what lies behind the box. ]

This was your room?

[ Cramped, isn't it? There's no bed that he can see; it seems like a space for storage more than anything, but the cushioned nook says otherwise. Is that odd? He can't decide. For someone of his world, it would not be, but he's seen Sam's house, and he recognizes that commonfolk in other spheres can possess homes of a size that would normally be owned only by aristocrats and nobles on the Continent.

There's obviously something going on, something that's distracted Steve. He just isn't certain what it is. ]

[gynvael]

[ He can't explain why it bothers him so that Thancred continues to croak behind him. (Is it because it's pulling at an instinctive urge to croak back? Yes. But he's not acknowledging this.)

He swims. The lily pads tempt him. So does a fly that buzzes overhead. He does his best to ignore all of these things. He most certainly is not considering swiping the fly with his tongue and eating it. That would be absurd. But there is something indescribably serene about gliding through the water with ease, as though he were right at home in it.

The frog experience is conflicting. He really fucking hates this.

He's about to learn quick that he will hate even more the experience of turning back. The change leaves him as suddenly as it came; somehow, growing out of his frog form feels worse. He still has one foot in the pond, and the abruptness leaves him unbalanced, tripping onto dry land. Ugh. Fuck.

He glances over his shoulder. Has Thancred changed back, as well? Will he have to put Himeka's friend in his pocket and carry him around for the next while? ]

[aquaveiled]

[ Having seen a plethora of inventive iterations in her time, there aren't many blades that seem out of place. But a bone sword that rattles? She will definitely want a closer look at a weapon that seemingly has a life of it's own.

Himeka shouldn't laugh at the complaint, but she does. Though it's hardly a situation they chose to be in, there is something pleasantly familiar about traversing a deep dungeon maze and battling an onslaught. Well, if one can consider a single fiend an onslaught, but still! Life out on the farm is hardly exciting. This adds a bit of spice.

Whatever momentary notions she had about Sylvain's skill or alignment are quickly destroyed in seeing him jump seamlessly into motion. So the blade isn't for show after all! She smiles as three small balls of fire begin orbiting her form like little satellites, content to watch him work.

The creature hardly stands a chance--in fact it can only stand for a few moments before it's deftly destroyed by Sylvain's fast work. Himeka doesn't even need to try and keep up her Astral phase, does she? That is...until the moment the creature's body drops to the floor...

And the pathway behind it suddenly reveals a veritable siege of similar fleshy beings shambling towards them. ]

...Alright, so more than one.

[ He can blame her for that. That's fair. ]

[hairington]

[ in steve's search, he's all but forgotten about geralt's presence behind him, momentarily confused and then motivated to figure out if his hunch was right. if there's something in here for him to find. and when he does, he's not exactly sure if it is really something to uncover, so much as it's a statement of the fact of why this room exists.

it's been a long time since steve's really felt disappointed in his father (he learned early enough that if he didn't expect anything but an asshole, it was easier when that was all he got).

with the flier in his hand, it all kind of rushes back to him. enough that he feels almost embarrassed when geralt asks and steve realizes what is happening and oh, oh he just kind of totally wigged out in front of him, didn't he? ]

What? No- I mean, sort of? [ steve straightens back up, brochure still in hand. ] My room room is downstairs, but this is where I'd hide when I was little when I was mad at my dad. [ he huffs a kind of self-conscious laugh, a shrug. ] Before I realized he was just always going to be like that. It's...stupid. It doesn't matter. [ with one last look at the brochure, steve crumples the paper in his hand and stuffs it into the pocket of his jacket, turning back around. ]

We should keep going.

[hairington]

It can probably tell you're a threat.

[ steve nods, like duh, of course whatever creature out there could tell from just a glance that wanda was not to be messed with. it didn't have to be a figment of steve's imagination for that to come through.

there's a noise out in the distance, and steve's attention turns to it for a moment - waiting to see what, if anything, will appear. when nothing does, he lets out a breath, shrugs, seems...not nervous, exactly, but there is a kind of restless energy to him. like staying here makes him feel a bit like bait. ]

Um. It depends? The demodogs don't take much, a good hit or two and some fire, mostly. With the demogorgons it has to be fire, everything else can slow them down, but not for long. If it's the...

[ that's when something moves, a loud noise that shakes the ground under them. the mind flayer. ]

[gynvael]

[ Oh. Mm. The universal experience of all children: running off to hide when upset at a parent. He raises an eyebrow, then gestures at the state of the attic. Keep going is a nice sentiment, but a complicated one when there isn't anywhere to go except back down. Which, considering the unsettling wet noises coming from beneath, is rapidly becoming less feasible.

He returns to one of the walls, pressing his hand to it. Perhaps a door? (He managed before, in that labyrinth. To a degree.) ]

There was an outcrop in the woods. I would take my horse there when things were...unpleasant. [ For a variety of reasons. Not always to do with Vesemir. Kaer Morhen was full of Witchers too quick to temper. And though he will never admit it out loud, he is not unaware—now that he can look back with a century of understanding—that he was something of a sensitive child once. ] You didn't get on with your father?

[ Maybe he's prodding, a little. He isn't trying to pry, but he is spending a not insignificant amount of time with the boy teaching him. Steve has become more than a casual interest, and despite their weeks together, he doesn't actually know too much about him. Call him curious. ]

[hairington]

[ it doesn't take very long for steve to realize what geralt is gesturing too - and after a second or so to remember how there actually aren't any windows in this attack and then to have that confirmed when he looks around him, steve decides to copy geralt with whatever it is he's doing, feeling along the dusty, cobwebbed walls for...what, he's not actually sure, but there has to be some way out of here that isn't back down again.

steve pauses at geralt's admission, realizing what he's doing and deciding if he wants to go ahead with it. it feels childish, all things considered, and with the scale of things they've dealt with over the last couple of weeks, including this very exact moment, but steve also doesn't want to be rude. especially when it's not like there's any big, dark, deep secret here.

he keeps his eyes on the walls, feeling along for...something. anything. ]

Not exactly. I mean- he's a huge douche, but it was more that he wasn't ever around enough not to get along with. [ said casually, despite the heavier or maybe not heavy at all implications it brings. rather, it does feel like there is a forced sort of casual-ness to it, built entirely from the fact that steve is becoming increasingly aware that he's freaking nineteen years old and getting mad at his dad for...what? not going to his father son breakfast when he was ten?

it's stupid. he moves another pile of boxes to reach for another stretch of the roof. ] What kind of unpleasant things were you running from?

[aquilus]

I think you may be right.

[He may be the best Assassin of his generation, but others were very skilled as well, and none of them reached his level of self-importance.]

But the damage that the arrogant can do is unfortunately outsized.

[gynvael]

[ It's funny. Geralt understands what it is not to have mother, but he never felt his father's absence much. He supposes once Vesemir stepped into his life—things were different.

He acknowledges that answer with a hum, and presses no further. Steve's reluctance to elaborate is clear; it's enough to learn what he has just now. Instead, he focus for a moment on the wall, on the wood that forms it. The opening that forms can't in good conscience be called a door. It is, however, a. Hole. Of a sort. They'll fit.

Looks rather ominous. He peers through it, considering if they've any other choice. ]

My brothers, mostly. [ He cracks the now rotted wood along the wall to open the gap further. Then he ducks under it. The air is oddly chilly, a stale scent. ] An angry bear, once. Watch your footing.

[monomachy]

She can tell that the cold is hard on him, and Diana briefly presses her lips together. After a moment, she shrugs off her long, fur coat, and holds it out. "Take this." She's wearing a simple chiton, cinched at the waist with a golden belt, but she doesn't so much as shiver. She hates the cold, but she can endure; what kind of Amazon would she be if she couldn't? "It may be a little small, but it is better than nothing."

[monomachy]

That lines up with what Diana has heard, and a small bud of hope forms in her chest; these zombies don't sound like they're actively trying to hurt anyone, which seems like a good sign. Nadine's account of how the cadaver sat up is certainly disturbing, but helps that bit of hope grow.

"Then let's see if we can get them back to their realm." Death, she means--hopefully a peaceful one, without any of the chaos that swept the city last year.

[aquilus]

I have no intention of seeking out men who deserve death for the sake of being able to kill them.

[A tacit acknowledgment that killing is still part of what he does, if not in the way these other so-called Assassins kill.]

The rest — it's not something I do or don't do. It's what I am.

[It shapes how he thinks, influences every action he takes.]

It's why I'm here now. My duty is to the people, in whatever world I'm in.

[monomachy]

[A split second before it happens, she sees what the other woman plans to do. Diana knows it will hurt the beast, and it will likely lash out, so she does what she can to brace herself further.

It's a good thing she does because that one toss of its head nearly lifts her off her feet and almost dashes the sword from her hands. But Diana is an Amazon, who has trained for more situations than any warrior should rightly see in a lifetime, and she manages to keep her grip on her weapon. Her teeth grind together with the effort, and her muscles scream in pain, but she holds fast, trying to give Ciri the time and leverage she needs to deal with the beast.]

[funbreaker]

[ As Thancred is familiar with this method of making coffee, he doesn't blink at it. If anything, he finds the setup of the kitchen to all be comfortingly familiar, and when Alucard indicates that he should sit, he pulls out one of the chairs at the table and settles down onto it. ]

All the same, I appreciate the hospitality. [ Most Summoned have spaces that they associate with home in their domains, and this cabin is cozy enough that Thancred wonders if it's a recreation of a place that exists where Alucard is from.

He inhales, drawing in the scent of the nearby rosemary, and then settles back, allowing himself to relax somewhat. ]

There is something I've been meaning to ask you, though I don't know if now is the correct time.

[ He doesn't accidentally want to coax an answer out of Alucard due to his affliction, even if it would be entirely unintentional. ]

[magicalarchaeologist]

Once they find themselves back solidly into her house Istredd throws up more mental shields around them, almost cocooning them in the middle, although obviously this is still her domain and her chaos is very strong. If it wants to pound through what he's making, it can, but in some ways it is the illusion of protection that can help keep it steady. He can at least help her slow it down and give her a few seconds to breathe.

The memory is a painful and despairing one and he holds her tightly through it, not being able to give much else right then. This is something that already happened to her and cannot be changed. Grief is constant. He knows he is not Pietro, could never be Pietro, but he tries to offer her support and comfort regardless, even if it isn't his strong suit.

He lets her pull back but holds onto her elbows with his hands, still keeping her close so she doesn't snap away. She needs to hold onto something real or the delusions will come back. Istredd shakes his head.

"Wanda, listen to me. You need to stop and breathe."

He shares with her his feelings, his worry for her, yes, but also a determination, a calm that only comes from years of training and experience, steady despite all the madness going on. He offers her his willpower, his temperance. He cups her face delicately, looking down deeply into her eyes.

"You can't fix it." The magic is her, she would have to fix herself, and that is not something someone can just do. "You can overcome it. You are stronger than the magic, it is feeding off you, not the other way around. It wants you to react. Stay here with me. Just breathe, exist, live."

[satanicpanics]

Eddie knows his arms are going to be feeling this, and he makes a mental note to lift some weights if they ever get out of here. He does his best to match Mat’s pace, following his path and grabbing holds as he leaves them. Eventually, he loses his footing on a loose stone and nearly goes plummeting back to the ground, but he manages to steady himself using the hand holds. It’s a minor fright more than anything, but it’s impossible to see how high they are, and he doesn’t want to be the reason Mat goes down as well.

“Jesus,” he hisses, pressing close to the wall. After a brief moment of catching his breath and keeping his heart from jumping through out of his throat, he calls up to Mat. “I’m good. Sorry. False alarm. You see anything?”

[satanicpanics]

Jesus.

[ He hisses the word out and clutches his chest, as if trying to feel his pulse—trying make sure he’s still here. He can already feel his heart beating in his throat, but he’s felt that sort of existential doubt too many times before.

Am I alive? Those were the words he’d asked when he first arrived in Abraxas, and he still doesn’t know the answer. He doubts it even more now, just like he did when they pulled him out of that water. Does a beating heart really prove anything? It sounds so stupid, but what is he supposed to think when he’s quite literally straddling the line between life and death?

His hands are trembling, and his eyes are impossibly wide as he turns his gaze to Geralt, hesitating. He doesn’t know this man. All he knows is that he’s everything Eddie wishes he was (the white hair? The awesome castle? He probably has a sword too) and that he has a creepy screaming dungeon. Eddie doesn’t often share his troubles, even with people he knows. He and Steve have been dancing around the subject of his death for months, but if there were ever a time to talk about it, it’s probably now. He did just see his death flash before his eyes in this guy’s domain. He begins slowly, his voice quavering: ]

So…I kind of…died back home? At least, we think I did? I kind of know I did. I mean, that’s something you just…know, right? That’s what I saw. A repeat of that.

[ He lets out a nervous, breathy laugh, running his hands through his hair. ]

Gotta say. Not my favorite rerun.

[satanicpanics]

[ It would be an odd thing for anyone who wasn’t Eddie Munson to say, but the comparison to a metal legend is the highest possible compliment from him. It’s his way of saying how much he really respects Steve, how he acknowledges how much he’s been through, that he finds the fact that he’s still standing incredibly impressive.

Basically, Steve is on the same level as some of Eddie’s favorite people, and that’s a level that not many people are lucky enough to reach. ]

Yeah, it counts. You’ll see. I’ll educate you someday. Probably the best teacher you’ll ever have.

[ He grins, an attempt to relieve a bit more of the tension between them. He does mean it. He’s recently received the gift of a iPod full of music—music he knows, and music he’ll never get to hear back home. He doesn’t know what an iPod actually is, but he knows it’s currently one of his most cherished possessions, and the key to musical knowledge for Steve.

That isn’t important right now, though. Eddie gives himself a moment to breathe, and gives Steve a moment to breathe before he dares to glances toward the elevator again. ]

So…you wanna pull a Cask of Amontillado and board this bad boy up?

[thearchangel]

"Are - Are you crazy?"

She doesn't look cold. Far from it. She looks as calm and collected as if she were standing fully suited in the snow. He reaches for the cloak, regardless. The set of her jaw, the utter confidence... he's reminded of Shepard. Obeying the order, despite his question, is just ingrained in him at this point.

"What about - you?"