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

[thearchangel]

"Shepard!"

That's wrong. This is all wrong. He's calling out to her, but there's no one home. She looks like she's a thousand miles away and getting further out. She looks white - a color he's fairly sure human beings aren't supposed to be. Pale, yeah, they come in pale, but not that.

Is she sick? Did something attack? His brain is racing, heart caught up in his throat in a way it hadn't been in a long time.

Of course he's going to catch her. It's a given consequence. His hands clasp onto her shoulders, a little tighter than they would if she'd been with him. Is this a seizure of some kind? Delayed reaction to too much biotic work? He can't think of another affliction he's ever seen, aside from that, to have the same sort of effect on someone. Okay - okay, treat it like that until he knows better.

Ease her to the ground. Keep the area clear. Get her into a comfortable position in case her limbs move, jerk. In case her muscles go haywire. He should be getting clear of her, too. But he can't bring himself to pry his hand off hers. Maybe if he keeps the pressure on - some kind of anchor.

"Shepard - can you hear me!"

Please hear me in desperate echoes and vibrations down through his bones. Of course he's afraid of losing her. It's a very real possibility every day they're in the fight. Every day the war goes on. Knowing a real possibility doesn't mean you accept it. Doesn't mean it doesn't break you out of a sound sleep at night thinking you heard another broadcast with the Normandy's destruction in your tiny Citadel bunk.

[earthborn]

Of course she can't. Shepard can only hear her own too-rapid breathing, gasping for oxygen in the rapidly-thinning cold, ice forming in her eyelashes as the pressure hits a critical tipping point. The Normandy blooms with fire, hit astride and split open, the orange flash-ignition of the sub-light fuel felt as much as seen. On the floor in front of Garrus, he's spared none of it, seeing in bright daylight what only the inside of her helmet had borne witness to in life; the death of Commander Shepard.

And then, mercifully, as it had done in the past, it all faded away and Shepard came back to herself in a hideous rush. She sucks air like a drowning victim, the gasp rattles down into he chest and comes back in a cough, her eyes gone wild, hands grasping for anything to steady her.

But she doesn't need steadied, she's flat on her back, and Garrus is right there. She grips him back, like a lifeline.

"What the fuck?" Shepard is appalled at her own voice; a panicked, hollow croak. She swallows, gets a bit more oxygen down her, and tries to find some semblance of sense in the world. Alright. Alright, so it had been... some kind of flashback, then. Worse than usual, possibly worse than she'd ever had, outside the Prothean Beacon itself. What the hell had set it off?

"I'm okay," She tells him, more in the hope of forcing it to be true, than any real spirit of honesty, "...Hell of a flashback. But I'm fine."

[thearchangel]

Wait it out - that's what you're supposed to do. Wait, watch, call emergency services. If they have meds, use the meds. But none of those things, save waiting, are going to happen here. All he can do is wait. All he can do is watch and listen to her gasping, listen to his own humming, vibrating fear. Any other turian would have spotted it miles away, if there were any.

And it is no small relief when she gasps. Coughs. When life switches back on in her expression and grips his hand. She could crush all his bones and he'd thank her, in this moment.

"Easy."

She won't, he's sure, but he's got to say it anyway. Got to at least try and get her to relax a bit. The last thing he wants is some kind of relapse. When he doesn't even know what happened. He's sure the fear is still buzzing in his words. Not that there's anything he can do about that.

"Breathe... just. Stay there a second, all right?" While he collects his own wits. "It looked like a seizure." But she's talking, she's aware. Those are good signs, right? "You... you're sure it was a flashback?"

Nothing more?

[earthborn]

"Yeah," She says, "Alchera."

He won't need more than that to get it, she hopes. He wasn't there, of course, didn't see it the way Liara, or Joker had. But it didn't take too much imagination to get what was implied, not when he'd seen her... Shit, he'd seen the whole damn episode, hadn't he? Had she ever just, lost it like that, right in front of him, before? In front of anyone, come to think of it...

Shepard finally lets go of him, just so she can scrub both hands down her face. Great. Humiliation was just what this needed. And to add insult to injury she's even sorry to let him go. Holding hands, what's next? But she isn't getting up, at least, not yet.

Her hands are shaking, and she can't quite seem to catch her breath. That had felt a little too real.

"It was weird. Intense," It feels like making an excuse; but if there's something wrong here more than her own stupid trauma, she'll take the idea for a distraction if nothing else, "Hit me like the Prothean Beacon, just— wham."

Actually, maybe it was a bit strange, come to think of it. Shepard knew her triggers, knew how to control her reactions, hell, she was proud of that control, had worked hard to achieve it. Something that could be mistaken for a seizure was completely outside the bounds of acceptability.

"...What the hell set it off?"

[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.

[earthborn]

"No. Sometimes, if uh..." Breathe. Focus. She looks up at him, and feels weight of the need to be alright like a physical force. Still, Shepard has to take a deeper breath before she can manage to shove up on her elbows, and further until she's sitting off the floor itself, at least.

It's fine. It's fine, it's only Garrus. She can talk to Garrus.

"...If there's an EVA, takes a minute," She thinks it's fair, to be faced down with raw vacuum and need to take a breath before stepping out. Shit, why wouldn't she? It was... normal. Almost normal. She might as well just be surveying the lay of the land, it's not like anyone noticed. It's not like he's going to— what, lose respect for her over that much. Probably, "But nothing like that."

Which was true.

"You think this is more of... Singularity bullshit?"

[thearchangel]

There's absolutely no way he would, or could, ever judge her for something like this. It's not a failing, it's the aftermath of something horrible she'd experienced, and came back from by virtue of mad scientists. How the hell could anyone judge her for reacting? How the hell could he?

His hand stays put on her shoulder. She hasn't shoved him away, and he's staying at her side. Right where he's supposed to be. Even before they'd gotten closer, he was supposed to be at Shepard's side.

"Yeah, I've... I've never seen that before," he admits - as someone who's definitely done those missions before with her. He would have noticed - hell, anyone on the team would have noticed. Again, he doubts anyone would have judged her, thought less of her. "If any of us had, we'd have told you. And then probably Chakwas."

Who also wouldn't have judged beyond her usual why is my crew Like This judgment, anyway.

"Has to be. No other reason I can see." Because he trusts her assessment. If Shepard says this has never happened, then it hasn't happened.

[earthborn]

Shepard makes a helpless, strangled sound as she tries not to laugh at that. Just the image of it, so at odds with the harrowing, dire little problem they've suddenly found themselves dealing with here; Doctor Chakwas, hands on hips, demanding to know what damn fool thing Shepard had done to herself this time.

Damn, but she misses her. It's been so long.

But even if it's a shit joke, Garrus still manages to get the laugh. She can breathe again, stupid as it is; be a damned cold galaxy, without someone around here to put a crack in the tension, and she can always count on him for it.

"Right, we should..." She puts her hand over his, a comforting confirmation, gratitude and returned sentiment all in one gesture; we got this. But it doesn't work out that way. Just for a moment, barely enough time to blink, she feels his hand under hers, dry and warm and welcome. And then— And then it happens again.

Or rather, it doesn't. Shepard stiffens, eyes going unfocused, and it's different this time. No gasping breaths, no flailing limbs, or at least not at first. Her mind is far away in another galaxy, staring down the barrel of n asteroid strike from the wrong end— not that there's a right end at which to be.

She's caught in that moment of horror, staring at the number, hearing the pronunciation. Three hundred thousand deaths, and her hand on the trigger, her voice defending it, her soul bearing the weight. It takes eleven minutes to die in vacuum, brain death by lack of oxygen, but this is a different vision of death. It doesn't take nearly so long.

When Shepard comes to, she's staring up at the ceiling again, her vision blurry with unshed tears and all she has to say for it is, "Goddammit."

[thearchangel]

It's happening again.

The panic blooms fresh. His hand moves immediately from her shoulder to her back, dropping to one knee to better support her. Another flashback? An actual seizure? It looks like it could be both. Just like the first. And, just like the first, he's helpless to stop it. All he can do is guide her back down.

Sit vigil for her. He hates this. What the hell is going on? Horizon crap? Some kind of consequence of too many uses of biotics? But the amp couldn't be affecting her like this. It didn't make any damn sense. They need a medic, at this rate. But the only one he knows is Nadine, and - absolutely no offense to the woman at all, it's not her fault - she's from a time period probably too far back to know how to handle this.

It feels like an eternity before Shepard comes back to herself. His voice is still a mess of anxious vibrations, his hands are hovering. Not sure what to do, if he should do anything. But at least, this time, she's not gasping or choking...

"What the hell is happening?"

[earthborn]

"It was different, that time," Shepard says, more to force the thought out of her head, to get away from the double-suckerpunch of Alchera and— "Aratoht."

It's not much, but it's some kind of an explanantion, at least; Garrus deserves that much, to be kept in the loop if nothing else. He's taking it about as calmly as anyone could, but Shepard would have to be blind, deaf, and stupid not to see how freaked out he is. In his place she'd want information, to know anything, everything, about the situation.

Honestly, she's lucky that he's been with her through so much. It doesn't take a long explanation of details to contextualize the horrible, debilitating nature of it. He wasn't there, on that mission, but he was there, afterwards. He was there.

"Hell if I know," She says, finally. There has to be some kind of connection, some trigger, some kind of... something. Her mind feels like it's wading through mud, hip-deep and heavy. Shepard knows there's an answer in this, but she keeps going back to the black sky, the sucking cold, and the ticking countdown, "Help— help me up. We're not gonna keep doing this on the floor. Find a cot or something."

[thearchangel]

"Fuck."

Garrus' repertoire of human curses is probably as varied as anyone else on the Normandy anymore. But he definitely has his choices - and the word he utters right then normally isn't one of them. This isn't a normal situation, though. Far from it. First, this place makes her relive Alchera, and now this? What the hell is wrong with it? What the hell is going on?

He doesn't need her to elaborate. He saw the aftermath. The whole ship had. He'd known then, deep down in his bones, the literal explosion had been the last choice. It meant all other options failed. Shepard was a lot of things - a lot of them explosive - but not with that many lives... why the hell force her to see it again?

"Right. Grab my shoulder." Conveniently, the place he has clothing - not that he's put that together yet. Why would he? It's too absurd. "Hang on and I'll stand." Once he gets his arm around her.

[earthborn]

Shepard does as she's bid, reaching out to let herself be pulled up. Her hands won't stop shaking, more an annoyance than a genuine difficulty; she's angry. It's spite, really, more at herself for the weakness than at anything else. She ought to be able to just shrug it off, the way she always had.

Gripping grimly, she lets him help her back to her feet, conscious of the way that whatever-the-hell-this-was could take her under again without warning. Just for a moment, she breathes like that, deep sigh, looking up at him. Garrus has always been taller than her, but right now she's feeling it.

"It'll be alright," She tells him, firmly, because she's not going to accept anything else, "One step at a time."

[thearchangel]

He holds her up. Keeps himself steady, despite the concern thrumming through his nerves. Of course, things will be all right. Of course she'll be all right. She's Shepard. This is still something that feels unnatural. Something they've never run into. But - she's so certain, and it's impossible not to try and feel that surge of confidence in her presence.

"Sure it will," he says aloud, instead. "You're too stubborn to let it stop you."

It feels right. The moment feels right, so he ducks his head, to press their foreheads together. Kissing's great, but sometimes, the contact is really all you want.

"And I'll do whatever I have to."

[earthborn]

Everything's new once. But this is a little more than the normal weirdness, she can admit that. The balm of familiar touch is the counterpoint to that, and when Garrus ducks down to meet her she turns her face into his with a sigh. Alright. Alright, yeah. She could do this.

But when she opens her eyes, she sees instead a cragged, Krogan sneer, and the hiss of gas. Shepard sees her own arm come up, gun in hand; you talk too much. The realities blend; hallucination and perception running together like wax, and for a moment she sees them overlayed. The gun barks, aim true, the bursting gas-flame, and Garrus' alien, familiar, beloved face at the other end of the crosshairs. Shepard has burned Turians to death before— incendiary ammunition is not meant to be kind.

Shepard jerks back, desperate for it not to happen, breaking his grip and her own balance so that she stumbles backward and fetches painfully against the wall behind. She barely registers the impact, too busy staring, trying to unmake the image of it, of Garrus standing where he's least wanted, where no one should be who isn't shortly about to be destroyed.

[thearchangel]

He's too surprised to hold on. Even if he had tried, though, he couldn't have. She was always much stronger than she looked. He's left standing there, hands sort of hovering where Shepard had been a moment before. What... is happening. This is different than the other episodes.

"Shepard...?"

His hand extends, in offer. To help peel her off the wall, to help do something. Just like before -

Just like before

Held her hand. Touched her face. And to start all this off, her hand had brushed his cheek plating.

Touch.

His hand jerks back, as if he's going to be burned. Or, more accurately, as if he's going to burn her. Instead, he yanks down part of a sleeve. Wraps his hand in it. Enough to make sure when he reaches back out to steady her, the contact is cloth-on-cloth.

"Hang in there. Come back - I - I have a theory."

[earthborn]

Something in his voice brings her up, snap-to and focus. She looks at him, and he looks back, his hands held out, pantomime pose, and for the first time in a very long time... Shepard does not know what to do. He's clearly distressed and she still can't shake the reflexive, ugly shock of the vision— she both wants to reach out to meet him, and—

He pulls back and for a second or two, Shepard is sure she's screwed this up.

Come back.

"Alright..." She replies, steadier than she feels; but she can feel anger rising to cover the fear, slow and inevitable. When you can't control the situation, when you're scared, get mad instead. That had always been her way, "What's the theory?"

Shepard lets herself be steadied, sparing a glance for the way he's grasping, sleeve-over-hand the way you would when you had to pick up something unpleasant, or too hot.

"Shoot."

[thearchangel]

"Touch."

The word grates out from a clenched jaw. If he'd been any other species, it's doubtful the word would have come out at all. With all the underlying vibrations to it, it's almost garbled as it is - anger, disgust, shame, fear, guilt. Garrus couldn't play poker with another turian to save his life at this point, too used to being around species who couldn't read into those lines.

He holds up his hands once Shepard looks stable, and doesn't meet her eyes.

"Nothing happened this time, did it? First time, was you touching me. The other times? Me, touching you."

Now he just sounds bitter.

"So instead of useful light, I get this crap."

Instead of being useful, instead of being helpful, whatever the hell power this is has just made it so he can't so much as be in contact with Shepard - with anyone, maybe. But Shepard... not only that, he's actively hurting her. Hurting the person - hurting someone he cares for. He's stepped back, now, for her sake, arms folded tight across his chest, mandibles flattened to his jaw. It's worse than screwing up. Worse than tripping over his words or a bad date, or anything like that.

So much for one thing going right.

[earthborn]

She doesn't have to think about it for long to realize that he's right. Before all this, Shepard would have called bullshit and moved on; Indoctrination was as close as anyone had come to the mystical hoodoo that this whole planet seemed to run on, and even then there had been some kind of explanation.

But he's right— or rather, it checks out. Shepard watches him, and she doesn't have to be a Turian to hear the misery in his voice.

Fine, then.

"Let's test that theory," She says, shoulders squared and jaw set. She steps up, reaches out, and just as she's done so many times before, cups his cheek and jaw, on the scarred side.

She's braced for it, and there's nothing wrong with Shepard's poker-face, but it still takes her a moment to breath through it; the piles of corpses, stinking even through a hardsuit filter, and the moist almost-organic look of the interior of the Collector ship. Death, she realizes, as her vision clears. All of the flashbacks, or hallucinations— whatever they were. They were about death.

"Okay," Shepard blinks clear, and maintains the contact, steady and sure. It only seems to happen when they touched, not just if they touch; small blessings that mean she doesn't have to let go, "Right. We are going to handle this."

A statement of fact, flat and uncompromising.

"You don't stop using your biotics just because you might hurt somebody. You train them, so you won't. So if this permanent, if this is you now, we got work to do. You understand me, Vakarian? When have we ever quit just because the going got tough?"

[thearchangel]

"Shepard-"

He tries to jerk his head back, he really tries. It doesn't go well. She's too sure of herself, the motion too pointed and quick. The last thing he wants is to hurt her again. Shepard being injured is nothing new - out on the battlefield, in any kind of combat, that's something they're used to. It's not something he likes, but it's something he accepts. This, though? This is - this is his fault. He'd hurt her. Not an enemy.

And she was letting it happen again?

Her hand doesn't move. His own hover, ready to try and catch her, should she have another episode. Or seize up again. Somehow she doesn't - some miracle of stubborn Shepard keeps her on her feet. She also doesn't pull away. He tries not to gape. Tries not to trip over his words.

What she says makes sense. Logical Garrus knows this. Emotional Garrus - who has always had more say than a turian's emotions should - doesn't want to see her hurt because of him ever again. But Logical Garrus wins out. He exhales. His gaze dips, despite the hand pressed to his mandible, avoiding, just for the moment, while his brain sorts itself, gets everything back into reasonable order.

"So how are we going to train a magic seizure touch?" he manages, finally. The vaguest trace of his own brand of sarcastic levity in the words. "Kind of hard to throw it at the enemy. I'm not exactly aerodynamic."

[earthborn]

"I don't know, get you calibrated right..."

It's not as if she's enjoying this either. The idea of having to face down a random assortment of her least proud moments every time they so much as make contact... There's a reason she hasn't let go yet.

But isn't that the point, right? It's not courage if you aren't afraid of it in the first place. But if he knew exactly how rattled she was, how could she expect him to stand up and let her take it? It's what he needed from her right now.

Fine. Pain is temporary, isn't that the saying?

"Besides, we don't even know if this is like my thing. Maybe it's temporary, like the nightmares from before. Let's do some research, scout it out. Hell, this could even be me doing it."

[thearchangel]

He huffs out a sound that might have been a laugh in a previous life. "Not sure how to calibrate myself... Might take some study."

By all rights, he should be pulling away. Minimize contact until they can figure this out. Note down parameters, limits, triggers. Do some kind of research before launching into anything. But he hasn't. He hasn't so much as budged. His other mandible doing the expression for the both of them.

She's right - he knows she's right. On the other hand, the thought of hurting her still makes his nerves buzz unpleasantly. It doesn't matter if she's used to it, if either of them are. Hell, the fate of the galaxy was already on her shoulders. He's not supposed to be adding more weight.

"Have you had this happen with anyone else?" he asks, finally.