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

[ofthesword]

[Nero's immediate response is a long fuuccck before he even recognizes there's someone nearby, because it's his usual response to his body getting thrown around like a piece of snow in a snowglobe. Except without the fluttering. More slamming into the ground.

At least he's not impaled this time.

Nero cracks open his eyes, lifting himself onto his hands. His bones are already reknitting -- what was that? A femur? And a rib. He breathes in with a rattle. Oh. Yeah. At least one rib.] Ow.

[But his healing is quick enough when it's not an entire goddamn arm, and only after a fuck off Nero's getting onto his knees, then back on his feet, brushing snow off his blue coat.] I'm not a princess. Back off. [He looks around. Down. How the -- how the fuck is he back on the top?] The hell. Where did you come from? This isn't your mountain. [Another look around. No. He's had his own share of mountain tops. Snow. The whole shebang. It's not the same, even if he's ignoring the giant goddamn hands.]

[gynvael]

[ It's something unique to listen to the sounds of a man's bones knit together within seconds, minutes. Geralt on his part is sturdy, but not that sturdy, which means his arm is still bleeding where the jagged rocks sliced it open and he's now missing half a nail.

It'll grow back.

He rises to his feet, too. Glances up and up at the marble curves around the mountain. The sight is unlike anything he's seen before. ]

No shit. [ Yeah. It isn't his mountain. ] Dropped in. Last time, it was some sort of...maze.

[ He doesn't want to get into details. His company during the last excursion was. Complicated. He walks forward. The sun is sinking. Perhaps there's shelter they can find. ]

We should keep moving.

[ofthesword]

Last time? Last time?

[Like this kind of thing happens all the time? He rubs the back of his neck, cracking it with a swift bend to the side. He might heal quick, but it doesn't feel great. Somehow it doesn't surprise him, though, that it's Geralt who finds him. They seem to keep coming together in nightmarish hellscapes.

Actually, this one's pretty nice in comparison.]

Don't tell me you're afraid of freezin'. [But he follows, boots sinking into the snow, because standing around's not doing much for him, either. And where do they go back? Down? He watches the hand hovering above their heads, unmoving once again.] Last time I was in a blizzard this bad, it was pouring out a giant toad's asshole.

[Well. Its mouth, technically. Same difference.]

[gynvael]

Mm. [ Last time. Apparently, this is the Horizon's new disturbance for the week. He's hoping it ends quickly.

The snow falls thick. He can hear the winds picking up. By nightfall, it will be a full blizzard. He can survive a blizzard. In theory. These places are...

Unpredictable. And while no one can die in the Horizon, he's not certain he wants to test that theory while the situation is so tenuous. There's every chance they may not wake up from this place. That it will not release them. In any case—

Wait, what? Geralt gives Nero a look. ]

I'm afraid to ask. [ He pauses at the edge of a cliff. Sighs. He suspects there's no ground beneath them. He asks, anyway. ] Have you tried going down?

[ofthesword]

[Nero huffs under his breath, brushing snow out of his hair, then pulling his hood up. It's only getting snowier, the hands ominously floating above them. Waiting... for something.

For what? Is it gonna flip over the damn mountain again? He'd ask how it's possible, but -- fuckin' Horizon.]

It was gross. Stank like an ass, too. [But that was years ago. It'd be just a minor annoyance now, huh? Maybe he would've been the one to close the gates. Hard to say if that was even a threat anymore.

And who was gonna stop it, anyway?

Nero squats down and peers over the cliff. Not much to look at. Just white. Like they're floating over nothing.]

'Course I went down. How do you think I fell outta nowhere? The whole damn thing turned upside down. Like it wants us to stay at the top.

[gynvael]

[ Geralt joins Nero in peering down. Endless blue sky and white clouds. Typical. Now what?

He looks back up at the mountains, the sun, the smooth marble. He does not yet quite make out the shape of hands, but he's beginning to—starting to put together that they aren't individual marble pillars, but part of a larger structure.

Wait. Flip? Is that why? Because he went down?

Well. ] Suppose we're going up.

[ Where else if down isn't an option? He starts forward. ]

You haven't felt this before in the Horizon?

[ofthesword]

What good's that gonna do?

[He crosses his arms, wrapped around his torso. He's not exactly immune to cold, but it's not gonna kill him, either. And this storm is gearing up, blisteringly cold.

Nero closes his eyes. Not that he's trying to ditch Geralt, but he'll get it. Except the cold doesn't end. The howling wind continues to howl. He opens his eyes back into long swathes of white.

And we can't leave.]

No. I'd remember. [Where the hell would he find this, anyway? It feels bigger than a single domain. But he's not the expert. He hardly spends time here.] But I can't leave. I'm not... you know. Waking up. [As he peers up towards further near the peak, there's something like a spark, like the sun flashing out from behind a cloud. A mirror catching light.]

Wait. [He spins, taking a few steps backwards towards Geralt.] Do you hear something?

[gynvael]

[ He gets it. He waits it out patiently because he's tried, multiple times, and the result is the same.

Nothing. Locked in place.

As for what good, it's better than sitting down, unmoving, until they're buried by the blizzard. The sun is about to set. The sky is darkening. Horizon or not, he needs to do something and instinct says to find shelter, fire, walls. A cavern, an overhang. Anything.

He glances at Nero. Starts to open his mouth.

Then he closes it, listening. His head cocks to the side. Crackling. Ice frosting over. He turns, too. Snaps his eyes to the left. Maybe Nero senses it already, maybe he doesn't, but: ]

Behind you.

[ofthesword]

[Nero's eyes narrow as he scans the snow-crusted mountain around them. Plenty of outcrops, cliffs, jagged rocks tall enough to hide a body behind it. He's not exactly worried about being ambushed out here; if Geralt wasn't some weird not-human guy, Nero doubts he'd be weathering this so well already.

Honestly, anything pickin' a fight with the two of them is really gonna have a bad day.

The wind howls against the mountain, over its peak, but there -- there it is. The telltale sound of creaking ice, like a frozen lake indelicately stepped onto.

He doesn't need to see it to feel it -- demons still ping through his blood like a laser shot. The Devil Bringer was a part of him, and while he's not out here glowing like a lamp, it's not about to let one get the drop on him, either. Nero sidesteps just as a trio of jagged icicles shoot through the space he'd previously occupied, thrown with so much force they embed right into solid rock past him.

He whistles.] Man, you guys are still around? It's been so long! I was thinkin' you'd forgotten about me. [And out of the storm of snow around them step a trio of Frosts, standing like knights with ice shaped like shields forming their right arms. The one that shot off the icicles that form its hand raises its arm, regrowing them as Nero watches. He grins.] Oh. If looks could chill. [He gives Geralt a glance.] Well, you need some more practice with demons.

[He punches a fist into his other hand, spreading his legs. Fine. If the Horizon wants to throw some shit at him, why not? He could use the distraction. (Outside the flash of light just past the Frosts, drawing his attention again. Is it -- beckoning?]

Come on, Geralt. Let's break the ice!

[Nero dives straight for the one in front, punching it right in the face with a yell. Ice cracks underneath the force of his fist, and even if the skin of his knuckle splits and spills blood over the demon's face, it heals almost as fast as it happens.]

[gynvael]

[ Wait. Nero knows these creatures? Geralt frowns, sidestepping the rush of ice piercing the rocks over his shoulder. He gives a soft irritated sound: the opposite of Nero's enthusiasm for a fight. (Is he going to have to listen to every damn pun from the boy?)

At least one of them is having a good time.

He twirls his sword, glad it spawned right for once. If Nero is confident they can be faced down, he isn't concerned. They're still in the Horizon after all. Half of the outcome is born from their minds. He lets Nero take the two left, claims the third to his right. Practicality, more than anything: he understands full well that between the two of them, Nero's got the upper hand in both experience and ability to absorb damage where these things are concerned.

He heats his blade, the steel glowing red-hot, a split second before the frost knight charges. He waits, holds, then slides along the thick powdered snow, sinking the tip of his blade from underneath and slicing across. It sends the monster stumbling—grasping the sword buried inside it before he can free it from where it's embedded. Ice crackles, frosting, turning the steel cold. Then it shatters in a way that should be impossible, spraying the air with shards of ice.

Ah. Fuck. ]

[ofthesword]

[Two is nothing for him. Not because he's -- all right, yeah, he's overpowered in comparison to a couple of demons -- but because he's got the experience. Nero sails down to the snow with the frost underneath him, his arm turning scaled, fingers changing to claw as he grips the demon's face and slams it repeatedly into the rock hidden deep under the snow. The second one whips to the side, its tail dragging through snow behind it, and dives towards him with its claws out.

A push off the first frost's body and he flips over the claws aimed straight for his spine, grabbing the sailing frost's tail as he dodges to swing it around, repeatedly twirling it in a circle, its ice cracking more and more with every time it hits the ground. A few spins and a take this! and Nero throws one frost into its companion, both of them crashing to the ground and sliding through the snow.

Just in time for him to look over and see Geralt's sword fucking shatter.

Shit.]

Geralt! Catch! [He trusts he can. He winds his arm back, and without thinking, without planning, Red Queen forms in his demonic hand -- and he throws her straight towards Geralt, her motor somehow revving without a hand on it. Fuel lights across the blade, igniting on fire and sending sparks behind it.

One of his frosts must've gotten to its feet, because it slams back into Nero and throws him to the ground. He loses track of Geralt as power bursts across his body, triggering the demon within. Two blue wings sprout from his shoulders and grab the frost, claws digging into its shoulders, as his wings spread wider and wider, ice cracking, until the frost literally splits it two above him. Thick, black blood splatters across his face, as cold as ice.

Ugh. He sits up, spitting it out into the snow.]

[gynvael]

[ The mountain rumbles as if it means to flip itself again. He could manifest another weapon, call upon his wolf. But Geralt's mind simply doesn't work that way in combat. His fingers close around a rock instead. Not ideal. Better than nothing.

Until Nero calls his name.

The sword flies in his direction, that ridiculous roar of an engine attached to it. He catches it—rolling out from under the creature as he does. He waits, baits it forward. Then he plunges the blade into its frozen chest with a sharp crack. Blood pours from the wound, but it lurches forward despite that. Thick shards fly forth.

He ducks under them. Swings the revving sword at one of the creature's legs, taking it off at the knee. The entire weight of it—a full block of fucking ice—collapses atop him before he can dodge its path. It knocks his breath from his lungs. He curses. Gives the thing a shove, too distracted with getting it off of him to notice the icicle that flies in his direction until it's far too late.

He throws his shield up on instinct, certain it will not stop it in time even as he does. ]

[ofthesword]

[No idea why it worked. But the less Nero questions this place, the more it's been working out in his favor. His claws dig through snow into what feels like rock as the mountain begins to shake, and he shoots up a glare to the fucking hands above them.

Nero gets to his feet, clenching his fingers, waiting to catch himself if the mountain begins to flip --

Gives him a good second to really appreciate Geralt in a fight. He's mostly been too into their practice fights himself to turn around and take it in, but even a few seconds tells him one real, hard fact:

Geralt is brutal. His movements aren't graceful or fun. They are simply force. Violence. Trained.

Credo would've loved it.

It's only a half-second, a fraction, of a thought, because in admiring Geralt's sword strokes he sees the ice flying through the air, straight as a bolt from a crossbow.

He's fought with Geralt, but he's never seen a shield. Never suspected the guy could make a shield. And, honestly, when it comes down to it, Nero is still pure instinct in a fight. He doesn't have the sword to strike them down, doesn't have the time to warn Geralt --

So he just moves in front of them. One. Two-three. Three of the shards of ice embedding into his chest in a quick rhythm as he hisses a fuck from between his clenched teeth. Blood dribbles down his (now even more hole-filled) coat to mix with the last frost's blood. He's pretty sure one of them went straight through.

That really does not feel. Healthy.] Ow. That's cold. [His voice echoes out of a demonic mouth, until the trigger falls through and his body turns back to its human form. Oh. Great timing.]

[gynvael]

[ Instead of jagged ice through his eye, he gets a face full of Nero and blood pouring from the man's chest. Demon? He didn't miss Nero transforming so much as his brain filters out unimportant events in a fight. It's only now that he fully takes in the form before—

Fuck's sake. ]

Hey. [ He catches Nero, a flare of uncertainty and fear rising in him. It's natural, illogical, ignores the fact that they're in the Horizon not the real world. Ignores that he knows Nero is sturdier than a damn bruxa. There's a fucking frozen stake through Nero's middle. That's all he sees.

Then Nero speaks and—

He truly hates this little shit so much. ]

Shut up. [ He grunts. Wraps his hand around the ice. His palm heats around the icicle. Slowly, it begins to melt, shrinking until it disappears.

Which mostly just leaves Nero with the hole.

He eyes him. He's fairly sure Nero is all right if his arm grows back, but: ] You'll live?

[ Because if not, they're soon to find out if one can use Horizon magic to resurrect a body. ]

[ofthesword]

[First time he think he's ever been caught. Like this, at least. Kind of nice to hear a little concern for once, instead of another dressing down by Nico. (Not that'd ever have her anywhere this close to a frost, but --)]

Oh. Hey. Hot hands. [He braces himself with a hand on Geralt's shoulder, waiting for him to wrench one of the icicles out once it's melted enough, but it sort of just. Keeps going. Until it's nothing but water running down his pants.

Cool. That's a great feeling.

Nero covers the holes in his chest with a hand, spitting blood into the snow.] Yeah. Not the worst thing I've gotten in me. Hey -- don't take that the wrong way.

[His arm on Geralt's shoulder points out his index finger. Maybe it's just because it's thoughtless. Maybe the Horizon just works when it fuckin' wants. But for the first time, Blue Rose starts to materialize in his hand --

And the final frost gives a screech as something very similiar happens to it: something goes straight through its torso, cracking ice, splattering more black blood. And as that thing dislodges itself, Nero can see over Gerlat's shoulder it's the antlers of a

-- A fucking elk.]

Oh, now you show up? I've been trying to call you for a week! Where the hell have you been?

[Yes, he's talking to the elk. Which flings blood off its antlers, regards him with a look that nearly borders pity, and runs off into the brewing snowstorm.]

Asshole. [He looks back at Geralt.] Looks like you'll live too, big man. [The holes under his stomach begin to knit together, skin and muscle healing.] Not bad with Queen. [He tips his head towards his sword.] And your first time with some real demons.

[gynvael]

[ The frost crunches as it rises behind them. He sees the gun form, is about to lean far away from the barrel—he's heard a rifle fire before; it isn't enormously pleasant to ears as sensitive as his—but then.

The fuck is—

Wait. He turns back to Nero, eyebrows raised. ]

Friend of yours? [ He watches the elk prance off with what he swears is an aura of self-satisfaction. The blizzard swallows it up. Blood stains the snow dark red, slicks his hands. Geralt sighs, pushing himself to his feet. The fight may have been brief, but the sun has still set in that time, sinking well below the nonexistent horizon. Night looms over the sky.

He hands Nero back his sword. ] Not an ounce of stealth.

[ Can hear that damn thing from a mile away. (It's got a certain charm, the sword. He'll not deny that.) ]

We need to find shelter. No reason to wander the dark.

[ofthesword]

Yeah. My elk. [He says, combined with a shrug, is about all the explanation Geralt seems to get for it. Nero checks the wounds, taking Red Queen and stabbing her into the snow while he waits.

His hand is bloodied when he takes it away, but the wounds are healed.

Still hurt like a bitch.]

Who said I needed stealth? This girl protects me just fine. [He gives his blade a pat, and as if acknowledgement, she disappears. Huh. Everyone seems to like doin' that lately once they've done their job.

A little annoying considering he's so used to Queen's weight on his back. Feels kind of naked without her, actually.]

Yeah, I guess so. 'Specially when I'm full of holes. Wind goes right through me! [He grins at Geralt, knowing he'll probably get another "shut up." And he's welcome, by the way. For the cool life-saving.] Guess we better keep goin' down. I'm not sure what's making those pop up here, but I'm willing to bet it's --

[He pauses. Squints into the dark again. He listens, waiting for another telltale crack of ice... but the wind's picking up, and as he turns around, up towards the peak, with the last vestiges of the sun still lighting it, the snow starts coming in harder.

Then: a light. But it feels like more than that. It's not the first time Nero's been in complete darkness. Surrounded by something much bigger than him. As the sun sinks and the snow swallows sound, it's like being there again. In that stupid fucking statue. Feeling the life sucked out of him, as solid as one of its hands squeezing around him. All he'd had in that darkness was a single spot of light.

Kyrie.]

Hey. [He starts walking past Geralt, forgetting about the disappearance of Red Queen, of the elk, of the frosts. There's just that light. Her.] Hey! Wait up!

[gynvael]

[ His elk. That's.

All right. Geralt accepts that without further comment. Nothing about Nero makes sense; he can acknowledge that the man can regrow an arm, sprout a tail, turn into a demon, and apparently summon an elk to ram enemies with its antlers.

He shakes his head and walks off. If it were anyone else, Geralt would have thanked them. It's Nero, so he doesn't. Not verbally. The understanding exists in the space where words are not spoken. It's not the point, that Nero would not have died. He still took a blow meant for Geralt. And that means something to him. Perhaps more so because—

Hm. It's difficult to explain. His thoughts are disrupted anyhow when Nero stops talking. Starts to walk in a completely opposite direction, faster and faster. ]

Nero— [ Geralt catches up, reaching for Nero's arm. He stares into the night, trying to make out what could be there. Nothing. No sound, no light, no shape. Just the blizzard and screaming winds. ] What is it?

[ofthesword]

[Anyone else, Nero would've ripped out of their grip or rounded on them to let him go. His heart quickens, and this deep tug rips at his middle for even hesitating. So tight, so sudden, it almost hurts.

Pretty much like the ice striking him through the chest.]

You don't see it? [He turns back on Geralt, frowning, but something suddenly desperate there, open.] She's --

[He turns back. That light is still there. Still pulling at him. And though it's sudden, out of nowhere, maybe it's the adrenaline pumping through him from the fight that has him not thinking twice about it.

Or he's just that fucked up. Nero misses her.

It's that simple sometimes. Nero's fingers curl into a fist, his arm growing tight under Geralt's hold.] It's the way out. It's gotta be.

[gynvael]

[ She? (The girl? That's the only she he's ever heard Nero speak of). Nero's heart begins to quicken, pounding in his ears.

Geralt tightens his grip. ]

No. [ His voice is firm. He hasn't any idea what Nero is seeing, but it is nothing good. ] This place hasn't got a way out. All it does is fuck with you.

[ That's how the damn labyrinth worked. He imagines this is more of the same. Monsters spawning from Nero'a memories. Now a flash of light he believes is worth following? Without question?

That's not an exit. That's a trap. ]

There's no light. It isn't real, Nero.

[ofthesword]

[The thing a little time does to him. He looks between Geralt's face -- hard, impassive, sees all the lines Credo once'd had when he was looking at him with that sick mixture of disappointment and pity. Back to the light. It's there. And he thinks -- he thinks he hears her, but he doesn't hear her. It's more like an echo.

He curses.

Any less time, he'd get Geralt to let go of him. There's no way even a guy as strong as him could hold Nero down when even Dante couldn't.

His free hand wipes his face, rubbing his eyes.] Again? How many times is this fuckin' place gonna do this to me? I just --

[He isn't pulling anymore, and though Geralt's grip is bruising, it's not what he's paying attention to.] I need to see her.

[gynvael]

[ When Nero doesn't pull any harder, Geralt loosens his grip. His expression softens. Yeah. He understands. He does. He's chased echoes of Ciri before so many fucking times. Her shadow in the Horizon. Her memory in those nightmares. Desperate, every time, that something might be wrong.

It is never easy to let go. ]

You can't. [ He pauses. ] We need shelter. If we're still here after the storm passes and the light lingers, I'll come with you. All right?

[ He's hoping they will not be here for the entirety of the night's blizzard. But if they are—then that's a promise. He will. If only because he knows how it feels, that inkling of what if. Sometimes it's best to confront it head on. ]

[ofthesword]

[Nero grits his teeth. With a pull, he jerks out of Geralt's grip, taking a step or two and then stopping. When he looks at it, it's like the light glows dimmer, and he gives it a second -- just one -- for the thought that Geralt might be keeping him from her to linger, but --

What'd be the point? Geralt doesn't know her.

He turns back to him. I'll come with you. Yeah. Yeah, all right. It's that offer that settles it.] Yeah, well, I'm not exactly a cabin expert.

[He's not back to himself; his tone's too quiet for it, but he is fucking cold whether or not he can freeze to death out here.] We can make a cave or something. Gotta be a big enough outcropping on this rock, right?

[gynvael]

[ A tense moment passes where he thinks Nero will take off. He's well aware he's no match to stop the boy if he does. Then Nero stops, and Geralt relaxes.

One problem resolved. For now.

He nods towards the eastern side. Up there. They'll find a cliff or an overhang that direction. True, he can try to manifest a cabin, a tent, but. So far, the Horizon has not been yielding to his will. He'd rather duck behind a wall of rocks. Not as though he's with a human. They're both sturdy enough in a storm, he and Nero.

He begins to trek up the snowy hill. It's rough, slow, but soon—Geralt leads them towards a pocket between the cliffs. Shielded on three sides. It'll do. They can block up the entrance with rocks, build a fire within. ]

[ofthesword]

[Nero gives him another nod, and it's the closest to promising he's not about to jet -- even if his eyes keep going to the light. There's no image of her, no voice, but he swears he can hear it, just like he heard it trapped in the darkness of Sparda's asshole. Nero... you came for me. You wouldn't leave me, would you?

He shakes it off.

Clenches his hands.

His boots trudge through the snow deep enough he leaves a clear path behind him. With his distraction, with knowing the frosts had to come from him, he's not willing to try making anything, either. The best he could do was Queen, but even she couldn't hold up long. Nero kicks the snow as his thoughts tangle up, frustrated, wanting to pull out of the Horizon and knowing something is keeping him in here.

It's like the dawning realization of being trapped. Of darkness closing in on every side. Of the way the walls of that rock squeezed in on him. Sanctus's goddamn laugh. A single light in the dark.

It'll do. Nero tucks in behind Geralt, even though the place isn't really made for two guys as tall as them.

At least it doesn't stink.]

Hey, what was that thing you did? With the ice. That somethin' you can always do?