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

geralt of rivia | free cities | koth (decay)

[gynvael]

(( ooc: open and closed starters below. find me on the plotting post or discontinued for plans. ))]

OTA: horizon

[gynvael]

I. Guests
(( cw: gore, violence, trauma of all kinds, childhood horrors, other usual witcher stuff ))

[ Normally, Geralt gives little thought to the few times he can sense someone in his domain. The tug of that cord that stretches. In part, he prefers to ignore that constant connection. For another, he simply doesn't give a fuck. If anyone's looking for him urgently, they can send a damn message.

This time, it's different. Uncomfortable. Like someone digging under his nails, inside his head. Maybe it's just his imagination. Maybe it's the fact that he's been feeling off since that fucking dream that wasn't a dream. A prickling over his skin, deep in his blood, that drags old memories and wounds to the surface he's long thought buried.

If you're unlucky enough to land unexpectedly in his domain, you're bound to run into the twisted oddities that've taken over Geralt's place.

1. the exterior: a blizzard blows through the open yard. The winds are biting, harsh. Dark red stains bloom over the snow where the skeletons lay buried. There's no trail. It's everywhere, as though carnage has freshly swept through the place.
   
   Typically calm and watchful, the white wolf that prowls his mountain has grown erratic. In the past few days, it can often be seen feasting on a messy kill, muzzle stained in blood. A deer, probably. Or if you look closely, you might glimpse the familiar shape of a human limb. If you're a stranger—especially one that looks like a threat—the wolf will pounce.
   
   Around the walls of Kaer Morhen and along the snowy ground, vine-like tendrils creep and trail. The creature it belongs to is rare if impossible to spot, but its reaching branches make itself known as it slithers. Walk too close or pay too little attention, and you're liable to be grabbed: snatching at your hair, wrapping around your limbs, or even binding you in place.



2. the interior: the halls of Kaer Morhen are locked, but anyone has a chance to slip past those locks by transporting straight inside. The fires are lit, but the corridors are devoid of warmth. The place looks far more dilapidated than usual: broken benches, spilled bowls, blood staining the floors.
   
   The medallion tree remains standing, though barely. The sealed split up the middle has splintered, a fissure that threatens to tear it in half once more. The vines can be found inside the walls, too. They curl around chairs, braziers, torches, twitching and shifting.
   
   And if you walk by a set of stairs leading down, a muffled echo of screams drift from deep beneath the bowls of the keep. Don't go down. If you try, Geralt will appear to stop you, and he will not be polite about it.

II. Visiting

[ Geralt an also be found walking into the domains around the Horizon. Not wander—walk. He'll go right in and it'll seem he's searching for something, someone. If you ask, he might explain. Or he might not.

Now and again, he might just pop into yours like everyone's been doing. It's fucking annoying, which his expression will demonstrate clearly, and he'll search for a quick exit. Unless something about your domain makes it so he can't. ]

1. Domain Exterior

[philancer]

[ At first, Sylvain thinks he's teleported into the courtyard at the Monastery because the thick snowfall and biting wind blur everything except the faintest glimpse of stone walls, large gate, and the snow-covered forms of training equipment. But he's no sooner wondered why there's a blizzard in the Monastery before he realizes this is not the castle he's so deeply familiar with.

...The blizzard makes a little more sense then. Although he really hopes he hasn't somehow landed himself in someone else's Faerghus. That's the last thing he needs.

For some reason, it takes him a few tries to manage to manifest a cloak warm enough to block out the worst of the biting wind. Almost as if the Horizon isn't working quite right. Then again, he has no idea where he is so that assumption isn't a long shot. And he spends a moment to be mildly annoyed that the cloak that does finally appear looks far too much like Dimitri's which is something else he doesn't want to think about right now.

But with that taken care of, he turns to try and trudge through the snow toward the looming castle he can see across the courtyard. Only to promptly trip over a covered body and go sprawling into snow he now realizes is completely stained with blood. He freezes, his eyes wide with shock as he gives a low curse and glances around at the carnage. ]

Shit. What in the hells happened here?

[gynvael]

[ When Geralt appears, it is not from inside the keep. Instead, he rides up from behind on Roach, the white of his hair nearly vanishing into the thick snow. Despite the frozen air, Geralt is dressed in little more than a thin cloak, dusted in snow.

Yeah. The blizzard. Can't do anything about it. He's tried to fix the weather, and all that happened was the winds howled louder. In some ways, it isn't the worst. Keeps most people out which is ideal given...circumstances. ]

Accident with a rock troll. [ Deadpan. A hand is thrust into the stranger's face: an offer to help him up. ]

It isn't real. [ The blood he means. Nor anything in this damn place. He can't tell if the Horizon is shifting on its own through the Singularity or if he's doing it. Both, perhaps. ] Though I don't suggest you linger.

[ Kaer Morhen is rarely welcoming for strangers. Right now, it especially is not. Admittedly, the path down the mountain is difficult to see at the moment. ]

domain interior!

[satanicpanics]

[ This isn’t the first strange domain that Eddie has been dropped into. For awhile, it had been a nice reprieve from the whispers nagging at him and prodding at his guilt. The voices are quieter in the Horizon. Sometimes he can’t hear them at all, but the constant scene changes are beginning to weigh on him so heavily, he thinks he’d rather be back in Solvunn dealing with disgrace.

At least there’s been a slight stroke of luck here. He’s been dropped inside the halls of Kaer Morhen rather than outside, bypassing the blizzard, the wolf, and the grabby tendrils. The castle is far from welcoming, however, and Eddie wonders if it isn’t the same castle Steve described as “kind of boring” and “really cold”. It’s certainly cold, but “boring” isn’t the right word. It’s terrifying and if not for the lit braziers, he would assume the place had been abandoned after some sort of duel.

He gives a little yelp and shudders as he narrowly manages to tiptoe around a particularly large blood stain on the floor, and calls out hesitantly: ]

Hey, uh…If anyone’s around? I’m not trespassing in your big, creepy castle. I mean, I guess I am, but…sort of by accident?

[ He circles around the medallion tree, politely looking with his eyes and not his hands, and nearly trips over a vine when he hears the muffled scream from somewhere further in the keep. ]

Shit. Of course. Of course there's a freaky dungeon too. Why wouldn't there be?

[ He doesn’t want to, but those whispers keep nagging him for a lack of bravery, so he may as do something to shut them up, right? So after a long moment of hesitation, his teeth clenched, he begins to descend the stairs. ]

[gynvael]

[ Geralt has, for the most part, taken to his room for the duration of this bullshit. Lingering in Cadens in close proximity to others is a risk he'd rather not manage. And frankly, the soldiers can deal with the risen dead. They're hardly powerful monsters, and he's little desire to take up his sword when no one's paying him to protect the city walls. That's what the army is for.

So he does hear it, the instant the stranger entered the keep. He simply ignores it, waiting for whomever it may be to leave. He doesn't really want to explain the state of his domain. He's aware it's a problem.

They do not leave. He feels it, that spike that tells him when someone's wandered too close to the stairs.

It's difficult to say whether Geralt has walked or just appeared. His approach is near silent either way—until he speaks up from the edge of the steps above. ]

I don't recommend it.

i-1

[aquaveiled]

[ Wandering the Horizon is something of a past-time, scouting out other's domains whether she's welcome in them or not. She recognizes Geralt's as soon as she arrives, though it wasn't her intention to end up here in the first place. Her crystal is...suspiciously absent. That is the first sign that something is amiss, snowy rampage aside.

A moth flutters into her view, directing her vision up towards the familiar keep. It looks as if the wilds have begun to reclaim stone as vines and roots take hold. She pauses to crouch next to one of the long, thick tendrils, gently placing her hand on it.

He wouldn't invite this change. His home is far from homey but this is clearly an invasion.

But from who? Or rather, what? ]

Geralt? Scruffy?

[ The second one is the Wolf, not Geralt. ]

[gynvael]

[ An invasion from himself is the real answer. Uninvited, but undeniably formed of thoughts and memories turned dark. He's tried to fix it. He can't. The only thing he can do is wait out the storm. Now and again, it dies down.

The literal white wolf does not appear, though its snarls can be heard through the wind. A wet sound like teeth crunching through bone. As for the other White Wolf—

He emerges with cautious steps. There's a sword in his hand, and a few loose vines fallen to the ground in pieces. Apparently, he's been...taming the vegetation.

Without warning, he reaches out, intending to grab her hand, snatching it away from the tendril she's touching. ]

Careful.

1 • Exterior!

[soothsighs]

( Still, the Horizon refuses to let him go. Urianger has been wandering for what feels like days — though in truth, the passage of time has been far from a primary concern — in a strange back and forth between his own realm and those of his fellow Summoned. Some instances have been uneventful, leaving him to the perils of his own mind, but others?

Well.

Others have made themselves a problem. This time, however, Urianger finds himself alone in the snow-blased lands of what appears to be a large keep. There is nothing immediately concerning about the place — no blatant peril looming on the horizon — and so Urianger wraps his cloak around himself a little tighter against the cold as he begins to head towards shelter.

His first mistake, really, was in not recognising the vines.

It happens more quickly than he'd been prepared for — or perhaps it's simply a symptom of having not been prepared at all. The vines he'd thought to be natural shift just a little in his periphery, before snaking in close and coiling tight around one unfortunately bare ankle. His sandals provide little protection from either the cold or the thing, which roots him in place almost curiously as the crack and snap of bark herlads its arrival. )

By the Twelve ...

( Is all he manages as the creature surges forwards from the knot of trees, its faceless head focusing him down with the weight of an unseen gaze as further tendrils lash out to bind Urianger tight.

Whatever kind of Morbol this is, Urianger has never seen its like before! )

I.1

[warfed]

[An attempt to visit her own domain had brought her someplace that was almost the complete opposite- while her own was full of lush, tropical greenery and looked out upon the bluest ocean, she now found herself in a storm so bitter it rivaled some of the harsh winter weather she had experienced traveling through Faerghus. The cold bites sharply, cutting right to the bone, and as she recovers from the odd disorientation that comes with being displaced, she puts both arms around herself to try and ward off some of the chill- a futile effort, even if she had been dressed for the weather, which she certainly was not.

Her aim had been to see if the plants in her domain would wither in her presence like those without had; here, there is no way to tell, not immediately, but as she turns to survey her surroundings, she spies blood on the snow— fresh blood, with the scattered remains of what might have been a deer just beyond it.

She’s not alone.

Steadying herself, she reaches for her bow, just in case, but lets it hang at her side as she advances, kneeling down in the snow when she reaches what little remains there are to investigate. There’s evidence of teeth having been used, the shape and size of which are familiar enough, thanks to all her years of hunting and tracking.]

A wolf, perhaps…? I hope he is being sated, if so.

[Though even if it has had enough to eat, that doesn’t necessarily mean the danger is passed— and if nothing else, she is a trespasser here.]

ensnared (justice)

[lightkeeping]

[Whether this is actually someone's Domain or not doesn't materially matter to Aloy--something is going on with the Singularity, and she's stuck here either way. Efforts to literally will herself out of this snowy mountainscape prove fruitless, and trying to descend the mountain itself only sends her careening back towards the top. Brute forcing gets nowhere fast, so in the interest of not standing around to freeze, she decides she's going to find the edge of this place. It can't possibly go on forever, can it?

She's starting to think that might be the case before she catches a glimpse of a human shape some distance away.]

Hey!

[He's the first person she's seen since arriving here, and despite the fact that in ordinary circumstances, she might want to try and tackle this alone, Aloy is quickly running out of options and isn't about to pass this up. Her clawstrider mount is functioning properly (for now), and though deep snow is not necessarily optimal conditions for such a machine, it's better than nothing. She quickly closes the distance.]

Is this place yours?

[If yes, she would like to have a Word.]

jo (+ dean)

[gynvael]

(( cw: child death/experimentation, general trauma, possible gore later ))

When he feels that dig under his skin, that disquieting pull that winds around him, he knows exactly what it is. He can't say why it's happening again, why it is that damn place, but it is. He's already tired of it. He wants to ignore it, but he can't, and something about the feeling makes his blood run extra hot.

So he goes inside. Steps past the snow that's now soaked dark with blood, the bones, pushes open the scorched doors of the keep. His need to find out who's prodding about where they shouldn't supersedes his absolute aversion to going down those stairs.

His boot lands on the dusty ground at the bottom of the stairs. The stench is thick and heavy: blood and death and rot and sickly sweet herbs. The screams are deafening.

He does not go inside. He has never gone inside. Even now, he won't, he can't. But the heavy iron door is cracked open. This is the first time he's seen it cracked open. (How even...?) Who the fuck—

He shoves it, swinging it wide. The dim torchlight in the corridors catches on the blood, making it shine. On the rusty chains hanging from the walls, the broken beds that are much too small for a grown man.

Perhaps it's a lost stranger. That's simpler. He can deal with a stranger. He needn't explain himself to a stranger. They will not have any knowledge of him to understand what they see.

It is not a stranger. Not a friend, either.

There's a roughness to his voice, like he can't breath. "What the fuck are you doing."

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo had lain down on her bed, like normal, closed her eyes, like normal, crossed her hands on top of her stomach, like normal, and opened her eyes —

Not in the Roadhouse.

Somewhere as far from the Roadhouse, she can't even get to the thought because there's piercing screaming and the stench of fresh and old blood both, something sickly sweet the first confused breath in spun her stomach's complaint at it even as she couldn't give it any attention. Not when her hands were raised to find her ears, but they never quite got there, just her shoulders punched toward them, and everything around her has most of it.

Her eyes might as well have been made for shadows. Torches dot the walls, but the shadows can't hide the chains, the blood stains, or the broken beds in splintered pieces. All of them are too small. Too, too small. The beds. The chain cuffs. Child sized. Her hand reaches for a dagger that isn't there because she's not in the real world. Not real, but absolutely fucking real in every direction.

Even as she has no want to touch anything in whatever this place is, she sizing up a piece of broken wood on the floor, how easy it might be to snap a hand-sized part of this section of the bed. To take it with her to wherever the screaming is coming from.

But that's when the snarl of a voice cuts through (into?) the screaming, has her whip the opposite way, and it's Geralt. She doesn't need more light to see the fury on his face, either. But it unchecks her mouth, and it's an effort in the face of both that she doesn't mind staring loudly. "What the fuck am I doing here? What the fuck are you doing here?" Barely a beat. "What the fuck is all of this?"

steve harrington.

[gynvael]

[ Geralt stops at the edge of what appears to be a forest wrapped in an eerie colourless shroud. The heavy stench of decay and stifling air hits him first. Then lightning flashing across the sky. Normally, he is not one to wander into others' homes. Especially not one that's been...fucked with. But he's been searching for Julie to no avail. This is merely yet another stop amongst many.

There's a road, at least. Empty, full of trees shed of their leaves. He rides his bike through, slow and cautious. (He's been reluctant to test what might become of his horse if he tried to ride her in his current state; he does not want to see her rotting away beneath him, real or not.) The engine rumbles through the dead silence in between claps of thunder. Slithering vines squelch. The place feels wet. Sticky. Like being swallowed whole by a river troll. What catches his attention, though, is not the oddity of the entire place. It's that, as he rides, he can see edges of something that once thrived underneath: a shop with deadened lights, a vast clearing filled with cars overgrown with twisting, pulsing tendrils.

It's here that he stops, uncertain if anyone's here. If he should keep going or if perhaps it may be worth turning back. He doesn't want to waste time digging where Julie will not be found. And the last thing he needs is to linger too long and trap himself in another unknown landscape.

After a moment, he starts to reverse out of the drive-in theater—though he's not aware of what a drive-in theater even is. Or, at least he means to leave. A sharp trilling roar cuts sharply through before he can. He spins around, just in time to see heavy footfalls charging from a distance. ]

[hairington]

[ truth be told, steve had no fucking idea what was going on. and, alright, that wasn’t a new feeling - he’s actually pretty good at handling himself with little to no information and even less direction. but he’s also been in his horizon enough times to know that this wasn’t him. at first, part of him had almost thought it could be - like some weird subconscious whatever showing up and not leaving - but when he tried to fix things only for them to get worse, steve decides that maybe he should just. let it be. let it pass.

that’s when people start showing up - accidentally, and some only for a few moments - but they’re here, and if only half of what could be hiding in these woods is actually here, steve can’t. he can’t let them deal with it on their own. they have no idea what they’re getting into, and if anything happened, it doesn’t really matter if it was real or not. steve has seen what happens to people while they’re stuck in their own head, had heard enough about vecna’s curse, and while he doesn’t think that’s what’s happening here, he also doesn’t want to risk it.

so steve heads into the dark, because he can’t leave anyone out there, and hoping that maybe they’ll just leave.

he’s already at the drive in when the thing starts charging, when the shrill cry echoes out. steve hadn’t only just seen the bike, has only just seen geralt, but there’s not really time for that, is there? because steve is already running, lighting the fabric of the molotov cocktail in his hands. maybe he should have thought about fireworks, maybe he should have thought of literally anything else, but his instincts picked this and steve just has to go with it, coming to a stop about ten feet to geralt’s left and launching the bottle out into the treetops. ]

Get out of here! [ steve’s in his jacket, stacked up just as he’d been when they’d gone after vecna but with his bat instead of an axe. and that’s probably for the best, as a guttural barking echoes from under the creature’s feet - doglike things swarming and lit up as the larger thing seems momentarily distracted by the fire spread out across one of its elbows (steve doesn’t even know if it’s an elbow, but whatever).

there’s no winning this - not without el - but he can distract it long enough for geralt to get out. and it’s with that thought that steve is pulling out another bottle. ] Go!

nadine.

[gynvael]

Between the dead rising and a taut, crackling energy that stretches across the city, Geralt decided to accompany Nadine outside the city walls. As much as he wants to say she shouldn't be out here, he knows she needs to. She has herbs she's collecting for her healing and patients. No shortage of them these days.

He takes Roach, though the distance isn't far. Just in case they need a fast ride back. The hour's later than he'd prefer, the sun close to setting, but he anticipates they'll return before sundown. He's tense—perhaps more than usual. Certainly more than a simple trip of this nature warrants. But when has anything been simple lately?

A fact which makes itself known when he hears the distant clip of hooves. Two horses, no sound of wheels. A travelling merchant, perhaps, but those would be rare these days given the circumstances. And this is not one of the main roads for merchants to travel.

He touches Nadine's arm, interrupting what she might be doing. "We've got company."

[nadine_he_loves]

Considering all that's going on in Cadens, Nadine honestly thinks it's likely safer in the desert anyhow. Not as many concentrated areas of corpses. Besides, it's harder to find ingredients in the shops right now. If she wants to restock what she can, she has to collect it herself. And Geralt is with her, they aren't going far, it's fine.

It'll probably do her good to be away from people for a bit, anyhow. Clear her mind some.

Looking up from her collecting at Geralt's touch, she glances in the direction he seems to be looking.

"Not exactly a big traffic area here...."

dean.

[gynvael]

(( cw: child death/experimentation, general trauma, horror shit ))

[ It is, in the end, easier to be in the a Horizon. He finds he can't stand people right now. How they look at him with wariness and distrust. It shouldn't bother him. He doesn't know why it suddenly does. This—nothing about it is new. Since when does he give a shit?

But after his temper got the better him, after he's sent more than one person reeling with a mere brush, he just. Wants to be alone. He doesn't give a shit who might land in the halls, in the yard. A few have. He remains in his room upstairs, drinking and waiting until they leave. It tastes bitter. Everything tastes bitter, ashes and sour, and he can't even care. (It's not like him, he thinks, not really. Is it?)

Only when he's crossing the main hall in search of more vodka (he can conjure it, he knows, but the motion is what feels natural)—that's when he hears it. A dull pounding from the stairs that wind downwards. His instincts are immediately on alert. There's something here. Something that shouldn't be.

His sword appears in his hand. He hesitates at first. Does it matter? In the a Horizon? The Singularity hasn't been right, though. Not for the past few days. Which means...

It matters. What might be down there.

He takes a deep breath. Forces his feet to move, descending. Darkness engulfs the walls, the stone. A foot or two from the door, he hears it beneath the thumping: grunting or cursing, he recognizes the voice by now. The fuck—

Geralt slams his hand on the door in response. Shit. ] Dean?

[righteously]

( You're damn straight it matters what might be down there, because what's down there is one particularly pissed off hunter.

Pissed off in a general sense, that is, not at Geralt in particular — though it might seem that way for a moment or two when he finally gets out.

He didn't piece it together at first. Where he was, who it belongs to. No, at first it's just... darkness, chains, screaming. The smell of blood and piss and fear made all too familiar to him over a few decades in the pit. It ain't the first time he's confused these two places, though, and there's one glaring clue that gives it away.

Almost everything here is child-sized.

That doesn't exactly improve things.

There's a door that won't open, that's too dark for him to try and pick because he can't even find a god damn lock hole when he runs his fingers over it. Just iron, cold and unyielding, echoing back at him the sound of young screaming. Probably makes it a little hard to pick up on him yelling over top of it, if you're not in close proximity to the stone that swallows the voices.

So he slams his fist on the damn thing for what feels like forever, fumbling his way through brain texts that scramble uselessly as soon as he finishes writing them. Finally, after a veritable fucking eternity, he hears an answer. Call and response. He slaps his hand against the door again, this time more out of frustration than any real communication attempt.

Muted, muffled, from beyond the iron: )

No, it's Santa Clause! Open the god damn door!

kyle.

[gynvael]

[ This is the worst damn time for the Horizon to destabilize. Normally, the simple solution would be to stay out of it. But he can't. Because Julie is not missing in the real world. She is missing in here. Which means he needs to search in here. Which means entering and leaving domains, each step an invitation for the Horizon to toss him through an invisible door.

The ground opens up. He stumbles. A sudden drop, and then he's sliding along a sloping roof, right off the edge before he can catch himself or turn in the air for anything resembling a graceful landing. He slams onto the surface beneath with a heavy crunch. Something squelches, sticky, beneath his hand.

A window looks out towards him. A house, stacked on another home's roof. Geralt shoves himself up onto an elbow. Peers through the window from his vantage as though he might see someone staring back. Maybe he does.

Would hate to have an audience for his impressive fall, though. ]

lmk if this is okay

[ushiri]

[ Geralt will be greeted by a face he might've seen most recently loitering around the Roadhouse now and again, Kahlil's wide, dark eyes staring back at him with a mix of concern and amusement.

Oddly, Geralt will also hear the giggle of a young girl, coming somewhere from below the line of view of the window. If he looks down he'll notice a dog at Kahlil's side, black mouth open and pink tongue hanging out, its pelt a light blonde and its eyes unnaturally golden bright. It's tail wags excitedly. ]

Quicksy, quicksy! Open the window!

[ The child-like voice originates from the dog, and a moment later Kahlil is wrenching the window open from the base as the dog circles excitedly behind him.

Kahlil gives Geralt an odd look. His dark trousers have a sheen on them up to the knees, and upon second glance the dog is also covered in the gooey muck up to its chest. ]

Hello again.

lucifer.

[gynvael]

the itch and inspiration found me so I'm just doing this lolol

[thedevilwhorose]

Lucifer would like to say he's gotten accustomed to stumbling into places of the Horizon that he doesn't belong and had no intention to be. The darkness doesn't bother him outside of reminding him of the Cage, the screaming of Hell. He'd think that's where he got stuck back in, but he knows down to the fibers of his essence that he isn't there.

This is something else.

Oh, the polite thing would be to wander up the dark stairs, away from this.

Lucifer, while capable of being polite, can't turn away from this door. An attempt to fly beyond simply fails, like he can't mentally grasp what's there to give guidance for his flight path. He has nothing to pick a lock though, and anyway it's such a mundane method that he's not too sure how it would even go.

It's frustrating. He pushes his hand flat to the door, his annoyance flaring and--

A sound echoes through the corridor. Through much of Kaer Morhen. An impossibly loud knock. Lucifer stutters back a step in shock, feeling the burst of magic that had come from him, alarmed. It's short-lived, because he hears the distinct sound of something unlocking.

Someone probably heard that sound.

He jolts forward again and makes to get the door open.

ensnared (the fool)

[funbreaker]

[ Thancred's intention had been to return to proper consciousness after some time spent in the Horizon. The hold that Adlewyrd has on him is still present, even here, but seems to be less prevalent than when "awake." As if the Horizon has a means of weakening that connection, at least some of the time.

It had been nice to have some manner of respite from the invasive thoughts and the effects he's had on others around him, but he can't remain here indefinitely.

Yet when he expects to come to in his room in Thorne's castle town, he instead finds himself closed in by tall stone walls that seem to extend endlessly in either direction. Has he stumbled into another's domain, as he had with Alucard?

Once more, he tries to concentrate on leaving the Horizon, but it almost feels as if there's some mental block preventing it. He lets out a groan under his breath. ] What's this now...

[ With no option but to explore and try to find a way out, he soon realizes he's in a massive labyrinth. Yet before long, he hears footsteps to his left, on the other side of the wall. ]

Is someone there? [ He raises his voice, well aware that he should not be in any true danger while in the Horizon. Hopefully it's a fellow Summoned. ]

[gynvael]

[ The last time Geralt landed in this spiralling maze, it had not been the most pleasant of excursions. He isn't thrilled when he walks into Jaskier's domain and tumbles back in here again.

Fuck. He sighs. Could he stay in one place? Perhaps. Wait for it to expel him. But he isn't certain if that will make things worse, and the truth is, his head is not in a place where he can sit still and empty it of thoughts. Part of him is afraid he might—

Create things. Unwittingly. To form around him. Like the last time.

So he walks. He thinks he might be alone; at least ten, fifteen minutes pass. Then a voice: familiar, just beyond the wall to the east. He stops. ]

Thancred. [ He raps on the wall, like it might carry through to the other side. Well. At least it's someone he won't mind being trapped with for a bit. There's a wry, ] You made it to dinner.

[ He's already looking up the length of the wall. Perhaps there's a way to scale it? From his end, if not Thancred's. ]