abraxaslogs | INTRO LOG #2

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INTRO LOG #2

Intro Log #2

It has been two months now since the initial group of summonings first took place. Castle Thorne, or at least the part above ground, is buzzing with a vibrant air of hope following the 'success' at the Singularity. Eager smiles and excited chattering are to be found in nearly every corner of the castle and surrounding town. The honored guests may find grateful looks turned their way more often than not. A new and brighter day seems to be dawning on the kingdom.

In the dungeons it's a different story entirely. The mood is somber and uneasy. The prisoner taken for trial has yet to return, and no word has come regarding her or her fate. There has been no mention of any further trials as of yet and guards seem to have little patience for unruly behavior or even conversation. Some seem to not even look at or acknowledge the prisoners at all.

[ Feel free to continue threads from the TDM here or start your own! As cell and room assignments will be short-lived due to this month's event, you're free to assume whichever cellmates and roommates you like instead of officially signing up as long as there are ICly no more than four people in a cell or room at once. ]

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"More grim than what?"

[ If Hennessy sounds tired, it's because she is. It's ingrained into every fiber of her being; has been for years, really, but the physical toll of not sleeping is apparent in the deepening shadows and slightly wild expression about her eyes.

She eyes the visitor warily, uncertain of why he keeps hanging around down here when there are other options. ]

I don't either, to be honest. Not like, properly. I didn't know shit about plants before I became this, but the goblin fruit's always exciting.

[And she gestures down at herself. The dogs relax again; one flops onto its belly, tail fwumping lazily from side to side, while the other sits on its haunches and yawns.]

It's better that it's just us. Hector might be disappointed, though, he was having fun studying the dogs.

[The moment the sun is fully set, Some's intention is to take advantage of the calm, clear twilight. He follows the tower stairs up that he found yesterday, shedding his cloak and tunic as he climbs until he reaches his new favorite high balcony.

He pauses there to stash his things before starting to pull himself over the edge, only to find himself face to face with a- a human. Well, he's been startling people all over since his arrival, it's beyond his turn to jump back with a startled hiss, the crest of fur up his spine suddenly erect.]

[Yuri lets out a quiet sound, caught somewhere between amusement and a scoff.]

A bunch of grunts looking for an excuse to rough people up? Careful. They might think you're questioning their "professionalism".

[Something in the tone of his voice makes it clear Yuri is absolutely questioning it.]

[ Himeka generally has no issues promoting a little mischief. She purses her lips as she sizes the other woman up--most are taller than her in this place--before shifting her gaze back to the wall. ]

I would hope by the time you're as tall as this they wouldn't get suspicious, but the guards have been on the ornery side of late.

[ Then she offers a real smile as she turns to face the other woman fully. ]

But it's definitely something they wouldn't be expecting.

Ah, is that what it's called?

[Alucard's eyes move back towards the hedge, easily picking out the strange shapes. It's nice, having his natural abilities back. Picking up everything in sharp colors and with crystal clarity.

He's ready to set something alight, he truly is.

At the mention of Hector, Alucard's face faintly sours. He's sniffed some bad milk with the way his nose wrinkles.]

Oh, doubtlessly. Give a necromancer a weird dog and he's set for a week.

[ Snacks. They're standing in a castle in a makeshift dormitory fresh out of a Harry Potter fan's wildest dreams, caught in some corner of another universe, and Peter Parker is wishing he could be a better host.

He keeps the sideways slant to his expression to himself, pulling back into neutral by the time he turns to address Peter again. There's no knowing what he expected from this and maybe it should've been a teenager anxiously trying his best to navigate an unexpected conversation with a real life sorcerer he barely knows, but at least he can say that Parker isn't the only one here out of his depth. ]

That's okay. I'm not hungry.

[ Whether or not that's true he's not sure he'll be able to tell until he's out of here. What he does know is that he didn't come here to dip into anyone's snack stash, so for now they're doing fine.

Stephen stands there in the open space of Peter's shared room, a fish out of water unsure what to do with his hands, and tries not to think about it too much. He's fairly sure he's pulling it off, too. The perks of a signature beard and everyone, including yourself, assuming you're almost always doing whatever you're doing on purpose. ]

You must have questions.

[ Of course he has questions. And maybe he's opening some floodgates or perhaps he's tying a tongue, but there's no knowing without opening the floor. So, for lack of anything else to offer, open the floor he does. ]

[ The way Link's eyes dart over in Yuri's direction, his shoulders straightening slightly, suggests Yuri's obvious sarcasm might have touched on a nerve. Link's mouth opens as if to protest, his chin tipped pridefully and with a hint of pique - and then he realizes he has nothing to say. Not a single memory he can point to and claim that Yuri has it wrong about what the guards must be trying to do, and besides.

He isn't that person anymore.

Link slumps those few millimeters back against the tree trunk he's propped himself up against. He's scratching behind one of his long ears as he speaks, an unconscious tell of uncertainty that any soldier worth his salt should have trained out of him long ago. It almost makes him look like a little kid, in that passing moment. ]

Something's putting them under more pressure than when we got here. I just think we should be ready.

[ yennefer had been keeping an eye on anyone who found their way into the dungeon - visitors and guards alike. she's not certain yet of what she plans to do with the information, of who frequents the cells and who doesn't, who comes down for specific people and who comes to wander. she plans to use the information to possible get her out, because with each person will add a possible connection, a piece on the board. she's worked her way through tougher moments in her life and with or without her magic, she doesn't plan on letting a dungeon like this stop her from her goals.

so she watches, keeping eyes and ears open for whoever chooses to bring themselves down amongst the cells. generally, people come with specific goals - people they have come down to meet, some times she has seen those from above come down and seemingly check out prisoners like you would a book. the concept, in many ways, disgusts her. but at the same time, there is very little yennefer wouldn't do for a bath at this point.

it also means, though, that when a younger man - she wants to call him a boy, somehow, but she thinks that has more to do with the inherent nervousness that seems to roll off of him in waves - comes down the hall with seemingly no real direction or idea, yennefer calls to him.

his answer causes one of her brows to arch, waiting for him to work through whatever answer he does actually want to give, before the question is finally asked. he seems to be just as new as she is, or at least around the same time, because he seems just as in the dark. yennefer sighs, equal parts because she is somehow already tired by this conversation, but also just. the dungeons in general. ]

I was dumped here when I first came through the well, yes. [ and then, because she doesn't exactly want to scare him away yet... ] But I am alright. As much as one could be. [ she gestures to the frankly depressing surroundings. they are in a dungeon, peter. the question seems a bit ridiculous to ask. ]

[ you certainly wanted me to. it's an interesting idea, as yennefer considers it - the idea she would want to send anyone to aretuza. to tissaia. but it seems as though ciri did not go, despite yennefer's apparent interest in her studying, and the thought causes yennefer's brow to furrow once more.

ellander? what causes would yennefer have to be in temeria? though, she supposes she can't be too caught off-guard by the concept. if the temerian forces were, truly, on their way to aid in the battle against nilfgaard, her path may have led her there afterwards. except that the temple in ellander is nenneke's, if yennefer was remembering correctly. and if ciri were there, it's possible she was...what? recovering? learning to be a healer? yennefer's mind starts to spin for a moment of all the possible directions and paths that could have led them to know each other from the temple of melitele, but then before she can get too caught up in that race, she settles on chaos. on being called to teach this girl how to harness chaos.

it reminds her of the girls she met when she returned to aretuza. the way their eyes followed her, young, unblinking. but the eyes that ciri looks back at her with are much more. yennefer, curious, but also warming to the idea that she was called to be someone's teacher rather than anyone else, that she would have accepted the role, tilts her head a bit to the side. ]

What was your conduit moment?

[ because she is not the academy. she is not tissaia. she would not ever, no matter the circumstances, take on someone for teaching who did not actually have the gift.

yennefer is prepared to wait for the answer, too, no matter how long she might have to. no matter how difficult it might be. ciri hasn't shown any reluctance up until this point to speak on these matters, but of course it is as soon as yennefer thinks this that something changes. in her face, in her voice. ]

What? [ she does not ask for the apology, not the sudden shift in conversation. a chill runs down the back of yennefer's tunic, her whole body growing tense in a shadow of a moment. she'd just felt herself warming up to this idea, to this girl who looked at her in all the ways yennefer thinks she might want to be looked at like. to have someone turn to her. to need her, above all else. except that she, apparently, can not have that either. not separate, not away from him.

geralt, who is only a cell or so away. geralt, who she still doesn't know if he's listening, if he can hear this very conversation, but the thought of it her mouth pulls into a tight frown. ] What does he have to do with this?

[ her brows lift a bit at that. prison labor excursion? alright, well. that is something to take into account. with the added, obvious distaste in alucard's tone. part of yennefer wonders if there isn't something more to the concept of this prison labor that alucard isn't telling her, but she doesn't find she cares enough to press the subject, her full attention going - instead - to the next bit of information that he chooses to share.

she frowns at the new knowledge, but also if she considers the tension she's felt just in this yard, it all sounds entirely believable. ] So they're already picking off the mistakes, I see. Why would they make one a public execution while just taking others without warning? [ jailbreak or no, yennefer wants her connection to chaos back. and if alucard is paying close enough attention, he could probably see her react to that idea. ]

Is that all it will take? To access our abilities? [ she glances back to the now dissipating crowd, watching other prisoners get dragged out. the mood of the group at large is certainly leaning towards something akin to escape. ]

And do you think it's possible? Escaping from here, I mean.

[ Ciri sees Yennefer's expression change, harden, at the mention of Geralt. It isn't what she expected, but she can't be too surprised; she knows they fight, and vaguely remembers they had disagreed when she was little, though she doesn't have a good grasp on the details, in the way small children understand their parents are arguing but can't fathom why.

Instead of trying to backtrack and figure out how to answer Yennefer's other question, for now Ciri meets her eyes steadily and answers the second.

What does Geralt have to do with this? ]

Everything.

[ But before Ciri can elaborate, she needs to be sure of something. ]

Please tell me what you remember of home before you were summoned here.

[ ciri does not answer her question - what was her conduit moment, what moment did she have that solidified her connection to chaos. part of yennefer wants to turn back to that conversation, to bring them both back to what yen could have almost felt was warmth. was something better than this.

but ciri says everything and the loss of whatever that had been goes up in smoke. and then, amid that feeling of loss, is yennefer's own voice, chiding, cruel. you should have known better. and maybe she should have. maybe it is, in many ways, her own fault. but then again, there is nothing to grieve if there had been nothing at all, and so yennefer pulls back. straightens her back, just as she'd learned in court, chin held just a bit higher. ]

What does Geralt have to do with this? [ she repeats, a different kind of weight to the question this time around. not necessarily because she's avoiding ciri's question, either, but the girl asks about home and what comes to mind is much more complicated than she's really in a place to want to discuss. the cold halls of aretuza? the court rooms of aedirn? the inside of a tent, on a mountainside? the girl probably doesn't mean to send yennefer down a path she doesn't want to be on by asking something that simple, but still, yennefer avoids the thought. keeps herself from thinking too hard about how, somehow, none of those feel quite right.

so she picks a politically correct answer, something that she can give to - if she plays the cards right - get ciri to answer her with what she needs. ]

Nilfgaard was mid-conquest on the continent. Cintra had fallen, and the rest of the north was soon to follow. We were to stop them at Sodden. [ what does she last remember? fire and death and the smell of blood and ash. she remembers an army in black. she remembers chaos, exploding out from her. yennefer can assume that the answer she gives isn't what ciri meant by her question, either, but it is the one she gives. ] Why?

[ Contrary to what Yennefer thinks, that's exactly the answer Ciri was seeking. And, strangely, the girl looks... almost relieved.

Geralt and Yennefer, at least, are from the same time. That makes things easier for her to understand, if only by a little bit. She's in the wrong time, and they're in the wrong place. Maybe it's not as 'simple' as that, but framing it that way, Ciri can organize her thoughts. She doesn't have to contend with a Yennefer years or decades out of sync, as she'd suddenly feared.

Ciri nods, exhaling slowly with the motion. She takes a moment, shifting to sit up on her knees. For a while, probably long enough to annoy Yennefer, she is silent, considering her words carefully. The situation. What Yennefer may know, and what she clearly doesn't.

It occurs to her that Yennefer not only doesn't know who she is; she doesn't know who she used to be, either. Not with the little bit of information Ciri has given her. There's context to be given, but at least now Ciri knows Yennefer's own context for it in turn.

Finally, she looks up, pushing her loose hair out of her eyes and sitting tall to match Yennefer. ]

You asked me about my 'conduit moment.' I'll tell you.

[ Her voice is steady, but even though it was a long time ago for her, the words still weigh heavy with emotion. Her bright green eyes hold Yennefer's gaze with an unwavering intensity, watching the sorceress's every reaction. ]

As Nilfgaard massacred the people of Cintra and set fire to their homes, my grandmother, Queen Calanthe, told me to flee. They had breached the castle. And so, I ran. But my retinue was killed in short order, and I was captured by a Nilfgaardian soldier. He carried me away, and from his horse, I looked back and I watched Cintra burn.

And then, I screamed. And with that scream, a power burst from me that I could not control. It freed me.

I fled into the forest.

Geralt found me there.

[ ... ]

Or... he should have. But instead, he's in this dungeon. And so are you.

[ that's how it is for both of them, isn't it? the hint of some kind of bridge, the possibility of someone letting their own guard down, so there is a chance it might be safe to let down their own. yennefer could just as easily leave this conversation, turn and walk away, if she wanted to. and what has kept her here has, in a way, also been that slimmer of hope. that maybe there is something to this, that geralt - being here - might be a good thing. an easy thing. a nice thing.

but if there had been a chance of that, it's gone, within that moment. not that it's directed at geralt anymore, at least not for this moment, but she is still angry. at jaskier, at ambrose, at the block between her and her magic. ]

Is magic really that available, here? That it's open to any who wish to wield it? [ yennefer sounds annoyed, terse and short, though again - not directed at geralt, this time. she makes a noise of frustration and turns away, finally, then, though once more not to leave. she can't quite find it in herself to leave, still has something keeping her here, in this space, just to be closer in proximity. she tells herself it's to learn more about what is going on, but the truth is much more. the truth is much more complicated.

she wants to scream, suddenly. feels the urge of it to boil up in her gut, burning alongside the stretch of her wound. ]

So those who have magic themselves can still access it, and those who don't have that aptitude can access the Singularity, as long as they are not deemed dangerous to Ambrose. All the while you and I rot away in this dungeon without any magic at all, alongside the rest of these prisoners, who may or may not have magic themselves. Wonderful.

Isn't that the same as tossed?

[ She says with a bit of a frown. But she is willing to let that go for now. ]

...It ended that way too.

[ She hadn't given it much thought at the time, merely summoning as much of the light inside of her as she could. Yet it was only fitting that it would take that form, that the soul she recently bonded with both in spirit and in form would be reflected in that final blow. After all, if it weren't for Ardbert, she may not be standing here today to tell the tale at all.

Even so...after all the foes she felled, when Emet-Selch did finally disintegrate into aether, she didn't exactly feel accomplished. It was an odd victory, no matter how brave a face she turned towards her companions as they returned to the Crystarium with a wounded G'raha Tia. A myriad of masks floating in an inky blackness crying out would keep her from true rest for a while after.

Himeka is visibly a little disappointed he doesn't remember, not that she believes he owes her any particular answers in that regard. If his soul has only just...reassembled? She's not sure how that would work. She's not sure how any of this is supposed to work. But... ]

Yes?

I wouldn't say picking off. Taking advantage of numbers to complete different tasks though--

[The dhampir trails off. He considers Jon a special case because of what was done, but the missing prisoner? That is where his concern lies, and quite frankly, he's waiting for someone else to be next. There are more than enough bodies without any natural abilities, making anyone vulnerable to magic.

There's a faint shudder at the thought, meaning he misses Yennifer's exact reaction.]

I'm genuinely unsure. [No point in lying or false promises.] To the former more than the latter, the latter I imagine can be done with enough of a distraction at the opportune moment. Whatever spell the mage used, it's powerful and I haven't the appropriate resources to seek how to break it.

[For his father's library or the Belmont Hold these days. Hector's doing...well, the lion's share of the work at this point, which Alucard hates for a few reasons. He frowns, his eyes moving to the ground. Better that way as the crowd thins and becomes nothing more than only one person standing awkwardly in the spot of where it all blew up.]

[ peter, to his credit, tries to keep himself more still that the buzzing nervousness allows for. tries to focus on the careful motion of closing the door, turning around, mouth pressed into a thin, polite smile. ]

Oh! Yes! [ his apparent shock at the offer doesn’t last long, leaping at the opportunity without much other prompt, like he always does, barely able to bite down a creeping, triumphant grin. leap first and think later and he clears his throat instead. ] - yes. I do.

Oh man, okay I mean, I have a lot of those. [ he starts towards the little nightstand, where he’s started a small pile of notes. which don’t really pertain to what he wants to ask, and he seems to realize this, and stops. as if he’s afraid that this is a one time chance to ask everything he has brewing. he really hopes it’s not.

he’s sure he can figure some of this stuff out on his own, will do so anyway but the rest of the familiar faces here just seemed so much more sure, and how can he not gravitate towards that? it feels like a lifeline offered and he doesn’t want to let it slip through his fingers. ] - and I’m not really sure where to start but.

[ peter looks back to dr strange, changing direction to shuffle towards him instead. ] So the whole thing about us coming from the same place, but not from the same time, right -

-Um, I’m sorry, to ask. But when are you from? [ he didn’t think to ask sam about that, didn’t come up amidst the clouded panic.

but knowing this now seemed important. being on the same page was important. then he can keep asking everything else until dr strange tells him that’s enough. ]

Horizon

It's easy for Coraline to slip back into Horizon - the first time she does it, it's by accident, lying in bed a few days later. She's certain she's just lucid dreaming at first, until she realises she recognises the clothes she's wearing, that the constant tugging in her chest is suddenly everywhere and everything, and she...

Scowls.

Still, it's a chance to clean up the fucked up forest she left here last time, and after that she comes back pretty regularly every few days, exploring other areas now that's she more... confident's not the word, but it's definitely in that vein. She knows herself now, knows that other people know their selves, and that makes everything feel a whole lot less dangerous.

The entire time, though, two big wolfhounds are always following her. Regular ones, grey and a tawny brown with yellow irises, but they're very affectionate and generally just Good Dogs.

Prison

She's always going to make the rounds down here, checking on her old cellmates, but now there's some intent to it.

She still checks on them, of course, but now she's approaching familiar faces in other cells, coming up close but never touching the bars with her bare hands.

"Hey, can I ask you something? About the whole Horizon bullshit."

It's not hard to realise that there are new people in the cells, either, and she'll pause beside them with her hands in her pockets, and the Tower symbol in stark blue embroidery on her silken tunic. "So, what're you in for?"

Wildcard

[If you have anything else you'd like to thread with her, feel free to throw something down or hit me up at Maniette to brainstorm!]

[ If he senses Yennefer about to walk away, Geralt doesn't move. Her bitter remark is obviously rhetorical, so Geralt simply looks over without answer. He's not blaming her. In some ways, he wishes he could feel the same vibrant anger she seems to wear like a battered shield. But often, it only ever manifests as weariness in him. The kind that makes him want to lay down and let the earth grow over his body.

He looks away, back down. Not avoiding her gaze this time, though. ] Release is not impossible. The guests—they have some sway. Handful were freed on the word of another.

[ He does not suggest Jaskier. Like he isn't already aware what he reaction will be to that. Doesn't matter who, anyway. Yennefer, no doubt, can find a target with ease from those residing above. Someone she can use for her freedom. For her, it is possible. That she can be vouched for. That the court will see fit to grant her release. Crimes is the specific word Ambrose used—and between the two of them, there isn't much question whose pages are less inked.

He's accepted his only way out will be a bloody one or not at all. Maybe it doesn't have to be so for her and Jaskier. If that's all the reprieve that can be granted for him, he'll more than take it. ]

[ Super illegal, that's a new one. Roland allows himself a smile at her questions about what it is he does. ]

A cowboy deals in cows, Sai. A hunter deals in prey. I deal in lead.

[ He looks up, the part of the revolver resting in his lap. ]

I'm a gunslinger, say true. The last of Gilead that was.

[There is some irony, Hector thinks, in Alucard escaping imprisonment so that he can imprison himself, but he's going to let that sleeping dog lie. He can't really judge- when he'd been left to his own devices in the past, he'd become a hermit.]

You're an odd one. Do you dream when you sleep like that?

[The drawback of working with Hector- he will help, and not ask for payment, but he does get curious about the strangest things.]

[A smile quirks on Hector's lips at Sasarai's priorities.]

Well, that is the most important path to know, even if the library is somewhat lacking. [Hector still suspects that there must be some other library where the really interesting books are kept. The one the guests have been given access to is filled with propaganda.]

Although you'll want to invest in the way to the baths and the kitchens next. It's not so hard, just a matter of counting the number of hallways you pass. At least this castle doesn't rearrange itself, as far as I've seen.

[Look, it was a problem that Hector had to deal with back home, so the Thorne Castle's navigation is far easier by comparison.]

I'll show you the way.

Well that's a fun new way of being described. He rather likes it, actually.

"I'll take the bottom, then, if it's all the same to you," he says brightly. "I-I'm not exactly the most, uh. Limber, of folks." Plus he's already sitting there.

Makes you think about that legend about how the moon's made from the blood of stars.

[ Nero chimes cheerfully as he fixes his gaze up toward the night sky. He doesn't think that this story has traveled through multiple universes, but he kind of hopes that it has.

He breathes in deep and lets it out a short laugh. ]

Or maybe not?

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Page 15 of 41

INTRO LOG #2

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