abraxaslogs | EVENT #10: AFFLICTION

Entry tags:

EVENT #10: AFFLICTION - IC POST

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Jaskier is fully unaware of how deeply, how thoroughly, death takes a hold of him in that moment until he is opening his eyes again, to Geralt's hand crushing his arm and that thick, honey voice of him like the scratching of animal claws on a rock. Crumbling, broken.]

Geralt -- [It is the exact way he has heard the name come from his throat once before: buoyant on a mouthful of blood.

He sits up, spitting it out, his stomach turning over with the nausea of deep, copper swallows of the stuff. He heaves, but nothing follows the blood.

And then, all at once, it is gone. He is left lying only among the nightshade. And. Geralt. The Witcher.

Jaskier looks at him with his eyes wide, his face gone white.] What... what was that? [Geralt's hold on him hurts, but among everything else, he can't parse it from the rest. From the pain of his body being blown apart. From the wet stretch of his insides in his hands. He grabs blindly onto Geralt's shirt with his other arm, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.] What happened?

[ His first instinct is to fold Jaskier into his arms. Then his body stiffens as Jaskier clutches at him. Not because of Jaskier, but because he realizes—he is the cause. Isn't he? It's happened before. Rare, sparse, and he has tried not to think about it, some part of him distracted by a dozen different emotions, thoughts, things he keeps swallowing down. ]

I'm sorry. [ The nightshade is no longer alive, drained of life. He forces himself to release his grip on Jaskier's arm. Abruptly, he pulls back as if burned. ] I didn't mean—

[ Fuck. He just. What had Jaskier seen? What death befell him? (Was it him? He can't help the way his imagination races to places he can normally keep them from: images of Jaskier's death being his fault, truly, in his friend's mind. All the times he wasn't there, when he was too late and Jaskier had paid the price.)

For a long moment, all he can do is stare at Jaskier. His chest tightens in a vice. ] I'm sorry.

[Now is hardly the time for Geralt to not explain himself – though he rarely ever has – but now, Jaskier truly has no grasp on what happened to him. He felt… he felt his life slipping out between his fingers, trying to hold his body together. As surely as he felt himself have a headache when he woke this morning.

The wet slide of blood and organs in his hands. The pain of it. The heat.

And then Geralt pulls away from him.

He’s left alone, surrounded by the crisp, dead flowers around him. His hands set down, crushing them, hardly strong enough to keep himself sitting up as they shake. His heart hammers so hard he can feel it beating in his tongue.]

What did you do?

[ For once, it is not deliberate. He's still catching up, still several paces behind, unsure of how to explain any of what happened.

His fingers curl into his palm. His nails dig in. ]

I— [ Shit. He takes a breath. ] I don't know. Once or twice now, people, they envision their deaths.

[ It feels good. No. That isn't right. Not good, but...a rush, coursing through his veins. One that leaves him wanting as much as he feels horrified by the thought. He doesn't know how it spreads. Touch? His proximity? (Is that just the nature of things, death bleeding from his fingertips to those around him?)

He wants to reach out to Jaskier. He's afraid to. ] I didn't mean to hurt you.

[Jaskier attempts to steady himself as he listens, swallowing the acrid taste of bile, telling himself in his head that this is not real, none of it is, and you are not physically here to lose your lunch. Not at the feeling of his blood, the smell of his insides, or the pain that shot through him as solidly as that djinn's magic wrecked its way through his body.

The bard shakes his head.]

I know. [He reaches up, jerking Geralt's arm down. The least the Witcher can do is help him up. (And because he does not entirely trust himself to stand on his own.) He grips Geralt's grubby mitt tightly, head swirling about.

Envisioned a death. Of course he has has lingering thoughts and nightmares of what happened that night, but his mind had saved him from so intimate a rendering of what may have happened if the shield had not appeared. If his people had left him to --

Bile, in his mouth. He swallows. Moglad, chasing him away from Bleobheris. You're wrong, Master Jaskier. Even his own knight turning against him like the way a town casts out the plague-ridden.]

I'm all right. [Maybe. Probably.] Once or twice? Were you cursed somehow?

[Were you cursed? Jaskier swallows the truth he is beginning to fear as thickly as bile and blood. An omission is not a lie. Not in the least.]

[ Jaskier's grasp around his hand startles him out of his thoughts. Geralt grips him back, pulls him to his feet. He glances back towards the direction of Bleobheris. What had happened? Why had the little creature chased Jaskier out? Moglad is a drunk and an idiot, but he's always loved Jaskier. Of course. He was crafted out of Jaskier's heart, after all.

Perhaps...

He looks back at Jaskier. Cursed. He huffs. He is not certain it is so simple as that. ]

There was a dream. I saw... [ He shakes his head. ] I've been feeling. Different.

[ He wants to say not like himself, but that isn't quite it. Everything he feels, it is real. They are feelings, thoughts, he has held for a long time. Learned to accept them and keep them at bay and carry on, but now it's as though they consume him unchecked. Fear, anger, all of it surging at the back of his throat at a moment's notice.

That isn't why he's here, though. There are more pressing matters. ]

Jaskier, I can't find Julie. She's— [ Missing? Lost? ] She's gone into the Horizon, but she isn't here.

[ I was worried the same befell you. He'd gone to Jaskier for his help, but also seeing Jaskier in the Horizon out in the physical world, he'd...he'd wanted to be sure. That Jaskier was not lost, as well. ]

Edited 2022-10-26 22:55 (UTC)

You're not making any sense. [And despite saying the words, it feels like an obligation -- like he must say them and make them true. Yes, Geralt is not making sense, because he is the one affected. Not him. Not Jaskier.

Because if he is. If it were his dream. If it were teacups and nightshade. If it was singing that song in front of his adoring crowd, and yet feeling so much more watching a woman pickpocket jewelry she craved than their rousing cheers. It was seeing Kol, the baker underneath their home, working so hard his knuckles had turned raw, until he'd had to wrap his hands in bandages.

If he says it, he can pretend the reason he is not here in the Horizon in the first place was an attempt at escape. Escape from what was happening. From the things he had felt after he was with Nadine. The things he'd said to Alucard --]

Julie? [Jaskier snaps out of the thoughts, staring at Geralt with a face still pale from what he'd seen. Geralt feeling strange, and being afraid for someone, and -- and making Jaskier witness his own death.

Yes. Strange. Strange is an apt fucking term.] I thought she was with Nadine. I mean, she mentioned her, briefly, but -- [It goes unsaid that Julie in the Horizon is not any stranger an occurrence than Jaskier there is. They indulge. They enjoy. They connect with it.

He looks back at Bleobheris with his hand still on Geralt's arm, and his heart curls in on itself.] Well. [His voice shakes. He swallows.] W-well, we must go find her. You already went to her domain? Was it empty?

[ Isn't he? Geralt looks back at Jaskier. For the first time, he cannot explain what's truly happening. Not in any way that makes sense. He does not feel cursed, this is not how curses work, and yet something has undeniably infected his heart. His head.

But he just. He just wants to find Julie. That's where his focus has narrowed down; it's too fucking much to think about everything else. ]

I've looked everywhere. I've walked the Horizon twice. [ This space is not large. If she's here, he'd have found her. And she isn't replying to his messages. ] I thought...

[ This will sound absurd. A far fetched hope. It's all he has. ]

I need you to come with me to the Singularity. To see what you hear when you touch it.

[Focusing on one, certain thing is a rather good call. Because if he doesn't focus on something, his thoughts will return to what he'd seen. (As they already are at the back of his mind. Rich blood. Slick organs.) Jaskier's hand pull away from Geralt and wrap around his stomach, slightly bent over them. If he lets his thoughts linger there, the ghost of the pain returns --

Julie. It suddenly feels urgent to find her. Not because he thinks it so strange she cannot be found -- there's plenty of places to be in all the domains' nooks and crannies -- but because Geralt is... worried.

And that is quite rare.]

What? [He takes a step back, frowning at Geralt now. What on earth?] Why do you want to go to the Singularity? You know I don't go there. I -- [Not that he's afraid of it. (All right. He is. In awe of it, but afraid of it, too.)] And you want me to touch it? Are you mad? Why don't you touch it if you're so curious!

[ A surge of frustration fills him. It isn't directed at Jaskier, not really. It's him. The unsteadiness. That feeling as though everything is hopeless.

He takes a deep breath. ]

You know I'm not the same. I'm a Witcher. [ He's forged through magic. Built in a way where certain magicks can't penetrate. Jaskier is the only choice. He realizes it's a risk. Nothing happened to Julie when she visited it, that he knows of, but she has only approached it while it was stable. Right now, it is not. He's asking a lot of Jaskier, but—

He steps forward. Takes Jaskier's hand in his. He won't let anything more happen to him. He won't. He'll make sure of it.

(What if he fails again?) ]

Please. Jaskier. I need you.

What the bloody fuck does that have to do with anything?

[All right, normally this would not be the worst thing Geralt has requested of him -- he's pretty sure helping with his demonic-possessed daughter and his demon-involved lady love was far worse -- but seeing himself dying has Jaskier absolutely wound tight, and even worse than Geralt being cursed is he is being absolutely bizarre.

Jaskier's eyes jump down to their hands, then back to Geralt's eyes.

Fuck. The bloody eye thing. With the brows.]

Yes, which, I far, seems to be occurring more often as of late. [Jaskier swallows. He turns his head to the side and mutters a fuck under his breath. Geralt is his dearest friend, and he knows the Witcher is not using that against him. Not on purpose.] You know I won't say no. But you owe me for this. At least... a very nice bottle of wine.

[ The reality is, Geralt hasn't got anywhere else to go. And he could do this alone. Of course. It is not that he can't. But he could have searched for Yennefer alone, too. Could have chased after Ciri alone.

He had not wanted to. He does not want to now.

You know I won't say no. He does. Something about that statement makes his chest ache. He squeezes Jaskier's hand, then lets him go. ]

We can turn back. If it doesn't feel right. [ He licks his lips, uncertain in a way he rarely is. Every time he looks at Jaskier, he sees him doubling over. Dying. Is that what it is? The thing which haunts him? Not his own death, but of those who matter to him? ] Just come with me at least.

[ He lifts his bike, fallen on its side in the dead brown grass. Another time, he'd have introduced this machine to Jaskier with a little more cheek, a little more eagerness to show his friend something new. At the moment, it is merely the quickest mode of transport. ]

Oh, believe me, you won't be able to pin me to the fucking spot with all your Witcher strength if I intend to leave.

<[And it is not a jest or a joke. He is quite aware Geralt will not attempt to, but more importantly, he wants Geralt to know exactly how much this is terrifying him. With his death still in his eyes, in his head. The taste of blood on the back of his tongue.

But he cannot allow a single illusion to keep him from helping Julie, either, if it is possible she needs it.] I'm coming. You don't need to ask twice.

[Jaskier's arms stay around his middle once he is free from Geralt's grip, watching him walk over to a... thing. It's a thing. Metallic and heavy and huge. And when Geralt does something to it -- turns the machine on -- the noise it makes leaves the bard jumping.] You -- what? You want me to ride this with you? No. Absolutely not. I have horses. They're just as fast.

[He falters on the last few words. Even from here, he can see Bleobheris's rotting leaves. And the feeling of Radu trying to bite his hand. Not in the teasing way the vampiric horse would ask for a few drops of blood, but a real, dangerous bite.

Even his horses do not trust him now.]

All right. Where do I... sit?

[ There's a quiet huff. He can taste Jaskier's fear and somehow it only serves to amplify his own even further. Fear, but not only a human fear, not a rush of anxieties and unknown fates. It runs deeper in him, something primal, almost thoughtless, that will not release its hold. The kind that's been driving him to take back what is lost because it is his and he is not yet ready to lose it.

But he is not ready to lose Jaskier, either. (He just wants everything to stop.)

Jaskier says horses; Geralt's face indicates all there is to know about that thought. About why, perhaps, he has not taken his own horse when he often has. Why he's left Roach behind, unwilling to go near her. Jaskier does not appear to bring death upon his land (Geralt knows the tree is rotting because of him...or that is what he believes), and yet. The horses fear Jaskier for other reasons.

Moglad fears him. ]

On the back. Hold tight. Feet up.

[He can guess, simply by Geralt's expression, about the same time he realizes he, too, should not... should not bother them. Affect them. Because that's what this is. An effect.

The same way Geralt's touch caused... that.

And now Jaskier hesitates, realizing how close they will need to be. If it happens again, he cannot guarantee he will not fall. Not if his staying on the back of this thing edges on whether he can keep a grip on Geralt.

(It's the Horizon. Nothing is real.)

Yet it hurts all the same.]

All right.

[Jaskier steps up to the machine, straddling it behind Geralt. Hold onto what? There is nothing but Geralt's back, or the edges of the... saddle.

So his friend it is. He holds tight. Boots propped on what he can. His nails dig into Geralt's shirt.]

[ Jaskier's hesitation shouldn't sting. Somehow, it does. The idea that even his closest friend is afraid of him. There's reason. Of course there is, and normally he would not think twice, would understand it fully, but right now—

Jaskier climbs on. His arms wrap securely around the Witcher's waist. Geralt revs the engine, then takes off. Fast, though not as fast as the machine can travel. He isn't trying to scare the shit out of Jaskier nor make him pass out again. The Horizon blurs by, domains crumbling and in ruins alike rushing past. They reach the crater before long.

There it stands. The fucking rock that's been the bane of their existence.

He slows to a stop, then kills the engine. Swings off before he wanders into the crater. He's not ever been to the Singularity in the physical world. That one chance they'd had during the Dimming, he'd been far too wounded to go. Far too unwilling to involve himself in that squabble, as well.

He glances over his shoulder at Jaskier. Here we are. All that's left is to touch it. ]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Edited 2022-11-05 06:42 (UTC)

Geralt --

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

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

Just the once.

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

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

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

Instead, he simply pinches.]

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

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

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

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

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

[ Before the words finish leaving his mouth, he's already annoyed, frustrated. It's not that he has these fears, that they lurk in the dark crevices of his mind. He's lived with them for most of his life. He just doesn't give voice to them. What would be the point? It isn't important. They're only fears. The same kind most everyone holds in their heart. Speaking them out loud grants a weight to them he never wanted those thoughts to have.

He sighs. Jaskier brushes his cheek, and though he doesn't react, the tension inside him eases a hint. ] Forget it.

[ Bluntness of his words aside, his voice is soft, without any edges. No. He isn't angry at Jaskier. Not really. He doesn't want to be, either. Jaskier is his friend, he is the reason Jaskier is even here in the first place, and he is simply tired. Of feeling too much. Of having pieces of himself spill to the world around him.

He's distracted soon enough when Jaskier touches it again. Reaching. His brows furrow. After a moment, he shakes his head. Is it Julie reaching back through it? Others who are trapped at this very moment? What in the fuck does any of this mean? He received something of an answer, coming here, but it doesn't feel as though he's come any closer to finding her. And he is not certain he wants what is inside reaching to grasp a hold of Jaskier. (What if it takes him, too?) ]

There isn't anything for us here. [ His eyes close briefly. Shit. ] I'm sorry. I should've thought to tell you more. I've been—

[ Out of sorts. He doesn't say it, doesn't want to fall back on excuses. He should be better than the things which filled his mind, but he isn't and it bothers him. How easy it is to drown in his own head. ]

[Oh, so this is what he gets for trying to be sincere? Jaskier huffs at him, but doesn't push it. He suspects, like always, Geralt wants to pretend it didn't happen, or that he didn't say it, or he doesn't want to deal with the consequences of having said it.

Like always.

Jaskier is not annoyed at it now, though. Gods, he's so far beyond being able to feel something as simple as annoyance. His chest is a tangled ball of threads: of fear, and trepidation; of a strange sort of hope; of a small part of him that does want to connect with this giant, living stone, because he has gained magic and made it so much of himself that Jaskier often finds he wants more of it, the same way he feels an itch to craft another song. A source of inspiration that he opens himself to. At first, slowly. And then more eagerly.

Jaskier steps away from the Singularity, fingers rubbing together where they still buzz with this unknowable, frantic energy.

This has been either the longest day or night of his life. Or journey of indeterminable amount of time. All the things that have happened already... and they have found no clue of where Julie is.]

Of all the things you could apologize for so readily. [He snorts.] Where was this energy a year ago? Anyway, I agreed to come, you lummox, but I'm not sure I've helped at all. If she has some connection to the Singularity, I can imagine she might have come here, but... I don't know. Could it have sent her somewhere else? I have not had a great deal of luck landing where I wanted to accurately for a few days, so. I may not be the only one. We do all seem to share in the misery, after all.

[ Geralt, too, steps away, moving out of the crater. Being within it leaves him uneasy given all that's been happening.

He huffs. Yes. Well. Perhaps that is what that year taught him, isn't it? That year and afterwards. How to apologize when he'd never had many he cared enough to bother with in the past. Then Jaskier came along. Then Yennefer. Ciri.

His eyes are on Jaskier. The bard's trepidation seems to have been replaced by intrigue. Geralt cannot say if that makes him feel better or not. Truth be known, much of this is beyond his experience, his knowledge, his certainty. Where part of him fears they've opened a door that cannot be shut, another believes that door opened the moment they arrived in this sphere.

He shakes his head. ] That's why I brought you here. I believe it did send her somewhere else. Like the mountain, the labyrinth. Somewhere it won't release her as it's released us. I hoped the Singularity could reach her somehow.

[ Fool's errand. He's aware. He is taking the chances of a desperate man. Even so— ]

You helped. [ He could not have learned on his own whether she could be reached through the Singularity or not. The mutations, his magic—whatever it is, this rock. That's all it is to him. A rock filled with magic. Julie described others receiving a disturbance. Herself a connection. For him, it is empty. Silent. Fitting, for a Witcher. He can't say he expected different. ] I'll continue searching.

[He can't quite quantify if putting distance between himself and the Singularity is leaving him to feeling better or not. It's as if his ignorance in whether the Singularity is how it has been presented to him is true or not was preserving some real sense of... awe. Not the adoring sort of awe, but how it mixes with fear for the unknown.

Jaskier watches the monolith even as Geralt speaks, half-distracted. Was it reaching out for him, specifically? Or is it any Summoned who comes here? But when he finally turns to Geralt, he knows it is not any Summoned. It has no reaction to Geralt, as he'd said.]

I don't believe it takes requests. At least, not yet. [Though he's far from knowledgeable on whether the Singularity would understand even if he made one. Jaskier frowns, touches his arm, before Geralt can round back onto his steel horse.] You're going off on your own now? I suppose I could go to other domains. Ones I've been to before. Perhaps we will find some hint of her.

(no subject)

gynvael - 2022-11-12 06:42 (UTC) - Expand

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only