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

[hairington]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[gynvael]

[ Steve appears out of fucking nowhere. Geralt's attention snaps to the boy, in time to see him light a—bottle? It's some kind of incendiary device, he can tell that much. He swerves out of the arcing path, avoids getting caught in the burst of flames. His eyes are on the creature, taking it in: how it flinched from the incoming fire even before it was set alight, the rows of teeth hidden in its bisected mandibles, curved claws. The hound-like animals beneath its feet. Its skin is leathery—but it doesn't appear armoured.

It is fast, though, despite the spreading flames. Fast enough he's not certain he wants to risk outrunning it in a vehicle and sending them crashing. (Can one lead a pursuing monster past the domain it spawned in?) He swings off the bike, sword in hand. Heats it until the blade glows red-hot.

A quick glance over shoulder. Whatever might be happening here, Steve looks to have seen this thing before. Geralt assumes the boy knows what he's doing—decides not to split his focus worrying about the one or two stray dogs that make a run for Steve. He plunges his sword into one of the others, severs another in half.

The larger beast lurches forward. He ducks a swiping claw; the second smashes against the dome-like shield that appears over him. Then he's sliding in, the tip of his sword slicing it chest to belly. It lurches, stumbling, though not as much as he'd like. He rolls to his feet just in time to take another dog flying at him. Catches it right to the chest. Its jaws flare. He grabs the smaller creature by the petals of its fleshy mouth before it can snap at him, ignoring the sharp teeth that pierce his hands. Blood spills—but there's a satisfying sizzle of flesh as his palm heats, scorching it.

Fuck. Where in the hell did Steve get to? Because he's fairly certain he can hear more barking growls. Faint, but coming closer, the sound of heavy clawed feet crunching atop metal roofs. ]

[hairington]

[ he has the second bottle out and is trying to light the fabric, because as well as geralt can look at this situation and know not to split his focus, steve does not. he keeps glancing to where geralt has not started running, sees how very much instead of leaving, he actually gets off his bike and pulls out his sword. steve wonders if he should tell him it's not worth it, they can't beat this thing, but then the mind flayer actually starts towards them and steve realizes he needs to focus on the cocktail in his hand.

which he does - he lights it up and tosses it, this time the fire sparking out in what ends up looking more like fireworks this time, the flames spreading out across its neck and shoulder. this time the effect has the mind flayer stumbling, rearing back for a moment, and it gives steve enough time to pull out his bat. to see geralt running forward and shit shit, okay, well, here they go.

one of the demodogs lunges at him, a faster one or maybe one that had just materialized closer. steve lands a single hit directly to it's not-face and starts running. there's too much happening for steve to follow, dogs coming out from under the mind flayer, from the woods around them. he hits one, and then another, nearly stumbling as he jumps over a particularly large vine.

it's probably right when geralt is wondering where steve got up to that he'll hear the damp crunch of steve's bat making contact with another of the dogs, right as steve comes to a stop from behind where geralt had been standing. he's breathing hard, both hands wrapped around the bat as his eyes are up to the metal roof, watching more of the dogs make their ways towards them. ] You can't kill it. [ he says, even as his eyes don't quite leave the approaching creatures. ] We have to get out of here.

[gynvael]

[ He's on his feet in an instant, bending down to snatch his sword. Steve isn't wrong: belly sliced open yet it's hardly slowed. They need to leave. It's just a matter of how that makes a difference as to whether they'll make it or if it'll be a short-lived chase.

His attention is fixed on the looming creature. Is it just him or has it fucking grown since he laid eyes on it a second ago? ]

Throw another. [ The order comes urgent, but firm.

Geralt rights the bike sprawled on the ground. These machines have their uses, but the lack of responsiveness and instinct that a horse would possess is a hindrance. The upside, they hold no fear. It means the swarming dogs and roaring flaming monster have no impact on his mount. The bike rumbles to life. A howl pierces beneath rolling thunder. A split second where he thinks: The fuck? The streak of white fur blurs into view; he decides not to waste time wondering if he called it unbeknownst or if his wolf arrived on its own at the beckoning of the Horizon. A distraction is a distraction—and they sure as fuck need one right now.

Seems as though they're about to find out if creatures can chase past the borders of one's domain.

He's certain he needn't say it, but: ] Get on.

[hairington]

[ it's definitely grown, and as geralt gets to his feet, steve takes slow steps away from it, adjusting his grip on the bat over and over again. he can take a bunch of these dogs, he's done that multiple times before, but the big thing? the creature that is very much still on its feet? that is somehow getting bigger and bigger and bigger. fear riles up in steve's gut, but he grinds down on his teeth to keep it held in.

throw another geralt's voice is rough but firm, authoritative, and steve feels himself immediately looking to follow. his eyes go from the creatures slowly approaching around him, then quickly glance to geralt, as if making sure. but he's already focused on his bike, on getting it up on its wheels, and while steve considers if it's worth it to put down his weapon to light another- ]

Oh, fuck it. [ he whispers to himself, and in quick succession he drops his bat and is pulling out another molotov cocktail, pulling out his lighter, trying to very quickly get this lit even as the dogs start howling, make a move to pounce towards them, but-

the streak of white nearly has steve stumbling over himself, nearly dropping the bomb, but he doesn't. he won't. the white wolf snarls, knocking the closest of the dogs off its legs and taking the attention away from steve and geralt which is...actually, very very helpful. steve comes back to the topic at hand, lights the fabric at the top of the cocktail, and winds up, taking a few steps and launching it as far as he can towards what steve has always assumed is its head. almost simultaneously, geralt says get on and steve is bending down to pick up his bat, rushing over to the back of the bike and climbing on behind geralt without even a second thought with his bat in one hand, bag over his shoulder, steve's eyes are on the mind flayer, watching it rear back from the massive spread of flame. ]

Go, go, go!

[gynvael]

[ The instant Steve's weight settles behind him, Geralt takes off. Goes straight down the path that led him here, hoping Steve's domain remains unchanged, that the roads haven't somehow trapped them in here. They swerve around a forest's edge, back towards the entrance and out. The wheels cross the threshold—

—and lurches. Like an unseen bump in the trail. Then they're falling, dropping; the ground rushes to meet him. He slams against a hard surface, rolling with it as best he can. The bike goes skidding off the roof—shatters with a metallic crunch and squelch far below.

For a second, he's just. Physically stunned, breath knocked out of him and a jagged pain in his arm that says he smashed it against something too sharp. His hands are bloodied from where the creature's teeth pierced his palms. They are not in Steve's domain anymore, he realizes. They're...

Oh. ] Fuck.

[ He pushes himself upright, turning to search for Steve. See if he's all right. ]

[hairington]

[ geralt takes off the second steve is on the back of the bike, and it takes all of steve's strength to keep his hold on geralt's shoulder and his other hand around his bat. it's a good thing he does, as one of the dogs pounces towards them just as they're racing off, and steve's able to make contact with it to keep it off them as the bike picks up speed. as geralt hits the highway and keeps going, steve settles back in behind him, letting the wind roar passed, wondering where it is they're going and hoping it's fast enough before-

the bike hits something (it has to, right?) and steve feels himself being tossed through the air, rocketed into dark, empty nothing. it feels like the fall takes forever, but also no time at all, and steve barely has the forethought to cover his head with his hands before he hits the ground (hard), and skids across the ground a few feet, less rolling and more like still moving with the force of it.

whether it's the ringing in his ears or the roaring of pain through his limbs, but steve doesn't hear the bike land somewhere else, doesn't hear geralt get to his feet. instead, steve groans, using what feels like the last of his energy to push himself onto his back to breathe, taking one long breath, and then another, groaning again as he forces himself to blink and sit up, still dizzy from the impact of it. ]

What-? [ and then, upon realizing he is somewhere distinctly different than his own domain, starts to scramble to his feet. ] Geralt? Geralt!

[gynvael]

[ He spins around as soon as he hears Steve call for him. Doesn't see him at first. Then he steps forward, crouches over the edge of one of the roofs to look down at...another roof. A sticky mass pulses and throbs on the ground below. The whole place smells sickly sweet, overpowering.

Geralt thrusts his hand down to help Steve up. ] You okay?

[ Once Steve has joined him, he stands again to survey the landscape. It's. Yes. He's been here before. Briefly. Not long enough to have received much more than a glimpse and a short foray into the stacked homes. Definitely not long enough to know how the hell to get out, though he's gathered by now there is no out no matter where they are. Only waiting.

He shatters one of the windows, then reaches in to unlatch it and push it open. Leaves behind smears of blood on the white-painted ledge. The window leads into what appears to be a quaint little kitchen. One that looks like it might belong in Sam's home. Geralt climbs through first—less graceful than he'd prefer, squeezing past the tight frame before he sort of just. Pops through with a grunt. A pan clatters to the ground, and a tiny hanging plant knocks him on the head. He curses. ]

[hairington]

[ the second he hears movement when he calls out, steve feels a bit like he can breathe again. when he lifts his eyes up to the next level of whatever structure it is they've fallen onto, geralt is crouching down and holding out a hand for him, one that steve takes and uses to pull himself up to the next floor. ]

Yeah- nothing's broken.

[ it's not until he's up on that next level and on his feet that steve actually gives himself the time to look around, not really sure what he's supposed to be seeing. there are buildings, or he guesses they're buildings, though they look more like shipping crates on top of shipping crates.

off in the distance is much of the same - more of these strangely stacked buildings, rolling clouds that make steve feel like there must be a kind of storm on the horizon, and then there is that pink stuff everywhere. it reminds steve a bit of the fair, or the concession stand at the movies - like too much cotton candy and too small a space. steve can't quite pull his eyes away from it, though he doesn't know what it is that's caught his attention. something about the mass, about the ooze, how it's everywhere, in almost all the windows, how it's kind of consumed the lower levels of the buildings, how it's...it's not moving, is it?

that's when geralt breaks the window and steve jumps, his attention turning back to the task at hand, which apparently involves geralt climbing through a window that is...well. steve was going to say too small for him. but the larger man manages, and steve follows suit quick after him, having a much easier time sliding through the frame and ending up in the middle of the kitchen.

it's dark - but not pitch black. steve looks around for a light switch. ]

Do you think these are people's homes?

[gynvael]

[ Geralt rights himself as though he'd not fumbled his entry at all. He steps silently over the smooth white tiles for all the good it may do, given that he's also leaving a trail of blood and dirt. With his sword lost alongside his motorcycle, Geralt begins to dig through the drawers. Silverware, linens. Kitchen knives. He gives one to Steve.

It isn't a dagger. But it'll do. ]

No. [ Or if they were, those people are long gone. ] This appears to be some corner of the Horizon. Traps you for a time.

[ Unhelpful, he knows. He's found no solution other than to wander until they're released. Or in this case, avoid the spreading pink ooze. It pulses against the unbroken window on the other side, sticky, wet, a heaving sickly-sweet organ. Best they not wait for it to spread to the broken one. He gestures for Steve to follow. Behind them, the squelching grows louder, more insistent. Where are the stairs? A door? There must be one. ]

We need to go up.

[hairington]

[ it takes a second before steve notices the blood, but even then he's not sure if it's worth bringing up. his eyes go from geralt, who seems to be moving about the room without any real care for what he's leaving behind, back to the trail behind him. he comes to a kind of decision, about to say something about the blood, when geralt turns and hands him the kitchen knife. no. and there goes any thought of that.

steve's expression shifts, his worry now replaced with minor confusion. ] Wait- you've been here before? [ and depending on his answer, steve's got a load of other questions. for now, though, he'll keep close to geralt as they move through the space, knife still in hand. ] Does the Horizon normally do this? Cause my place isn't supposed to look like that. I mean- kind of like that, but it's wrong.

[ there's a particularly wet squelch that draws steve's attention, and his thoughts are back on that feeling from a few moments before. that the ooze is moving. that it's coming towards them. that maybe there's something else to it, but he's not the sort of person to figure that out. still, steve stares at it for a second too long, enough that geralt's voice makes him...not exactly jump, but startle back to what they were doing.

task at hand, steve, come on. ]

Is there something up there?

[gynvael]

[ He should hope not. Concerning, otherwise. Still concerning, but he'll question Steve about what the fuck infested his domain later. What those monsters were, and exactly what Steve has been swinging his bat at. Once they've made some ground. ]

No. [ He hasn't got an answer for why this is happening, so Steve simply does not receive one. Only confirmation that yes. It is wrong. The Horizon has acted up before, but not across nearly every domain he can see. ] I've fallen into a similar space. With another.

[ He pauses beneath a thin string hanging from the ceiling. Gives it a pull to unfold a ladder that extends into the attic above. Or. He presumes an attic. Hard to predict what lies around the corner in a place that's ever shifting.

As for what's above— ]

Not exactly. [ It's about what's below. He indicates the window overlooking the ground. If Steve looks out, he'll see what Geralt means: full of the same sticky ooze that's creeping over the walls of the box-like homes. Down there? Not an option. ]

[hairington]

[ no is both plenty an answer and not nearly enough of one. part of him can't figure out what exactly the no is in response to - the being here? if the horizon usually does this? if they're heading to something or not? part of him feels like he needs to repeat the questions, but then at the same time, he realizes he doesn't need to at all.

a similar space with someone else does pique steve's curiosity, but he also realizes they have something a little more important at hand, and his focus stays there instead. geralt indicates the window and steve does chance another glance out, and that's all the confirmation he needs. they are moving away from this stuff, which...well, it doesn't make him feel better, necessarily, but it does give him direction. ]

Do we know what happens if you touch it?

[ he feels like that might be important - to know what it does, to know what waits for them if they slip up, not that steve has any plan to.

soon after he asks he's heading up the ladder with geralt, though, keeping the knife in hand and his eyes open for anything else that might be useful. ]

[gynvael]

[ While Steve examines the pulsing mass, Geralt peers into the attic. He can't hear or smell anything unusual.

He glances over his shoulder. ] It will not hurt you by touch alone. But it did consume my motorbike.

[ In small quantities, it seems harmless. As a giant moving ooze that devours—that's a different outcome. But nothing says the odd substance will behave the same way this time. Geralt has never entered the same place twice. He hasn't any idea if what he learned from his last experience will hold true. Possibly, everything has changed.

He ascends the ladder first, in case anything waits above. So far, it's quiet. The steps creak beneath his feet; Steve follows close behind. At the top, he pushes aside crates, knickknacks, then steps aside to let Steve through next. Up here, the thick sweet smell is less sharp. ]

[hairington]

Oh.

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

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

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

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

Shit! Why is this even...

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

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

[gynvael]

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

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

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

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

[hairington]

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

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

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

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

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

[gynvael]

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

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

This was your room?

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

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

[hairington]

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

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

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

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

We should keep going.

[gynvael]

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

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

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

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

[hairington]

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

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

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

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

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

[gynvael]

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

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

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

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

[hairington]

[ steve realizes, a bit belatedly, how thankful he is that geralt doesn't press any further. not that there is a whole lot of it to uncover, steve's life - relatively speaking - has been pretty easy and pretty boring, and some part of him feels a little ridiculous that this was important enough to show up in the horizon without him wanting it to (this can't be on the same level as being tortured in a russian base...can it?)

instead, they go back to searching, and geralt hums - just loud enough to draw steve's attention to what seems to be a...hole? in the wall? well, that's something. he walks over to stand next to geralt, trying to peer through the hole as well, but he doesn't get a good enough look to really see anything. ]

Older brothers? [ steve doesn't know the feeling, exactly, but he has (had) friends who had older siblings. he knows how tough they could (probably) be. ] How many do you have? [ and then- ] Wait- did you say a bear?

[gynvael]

Ah— [ He grunts, debating an answer. How many has he got? How many had he once had? A number is not really one he wants to say out loud. It is far too few. ] It isn't how you imagine. We're all of us raised at Kaer Morhen.

[ He did, indeed, say a bear, though that story will need to wait as the tunnel's low ceiling clears. Geralt straightens up. It's dark, musty, and there's an odd ash-like substance drifting in the air. He peers up, around. What...?

It's not anything he recognizes, but it isn't Steve's cozy attic, either. ]

This isn't my doing.

[ In case Steve was wondering. He glances over his shoulder. Does Steve know where this is? He can admit, there's something familiar in the air. Something he might've scented back in the Horizon, before they collapsed into this place. ]

[hairington]

[ as much as geralt may have planned that answer to clear some things up, steve just ends up pausing, frowning, and then turning to look directly at geralt rather than at the hole. ]

What do you mean? Like a home? [ he means foster home, but ya know, slang and all that business. still, steve follows in behind geralt easily, keeping his head low and the knife in hand as they keep walking, and walking, and walking until the they come out in a larger space.

once steve's able to straight, he moves to crack his back, glancing around to see where they've ended up. it's not until he's able to focus on the falling ash that steve's stomach drops, whipping his head around in both directions down the tunnel. ] Shit- [ he curses, panic fairly clear in his voice. ] Yeah- I mean, this. This is back home again, sort of like up before the goo? But it's- [ it's not that it's wrong, because it isn't. it's almost exactly how he remembers, with the vines breaking through the dirt all around them, the dust in the air, the dark, damp smell of it. but it's...quiet.

maybe geralt can hear it - the sound of creatures, a whole swarm of them, off in the distance. they might even sound a lot like hounds, without any of the usual barking. but then somewhere in it is also the sound of footsteps, of people. steve, meanwhile, starts off in one direction before coming to a stop not five steps later, trying to right himself in the space. ]

We need to go up, right? There's going to be an opening down one of these tunnels, in the roof. It's how we got in in the first place.