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Entry tags:
- !event,
- *npc: cyrus,
- arcane: silco,
- arcane: vander,
- black butler: sebastian michaelis,
- ennead: set,
- expanse (the): amos burton,
- final fantasy xiv: cid garlond,
- final fantasy xiv: emet-selch,
- final fantasy xiv: hythlodaeus,
- genshin impact: kaeya alberich,
- granblue fantasy: eustace,
- mortal kombat 11: shang tsung,
- oc: liem talbott,
- orv: sooyoung han,
- persona 5 strikers: sophia,
- tiger & bunny: barnaby brooks jr.,
- until death do us part: mamoru hijikata
TDM + GAME OPENING 🎉
Who: Shard-Bearers, new and old
What: Seeds take root
Where: The Tree of Life, Highstorm, Springstar
When: October 14th and onwards
Warnings: Potential for (mild) body horror, death, dismemberment
Welcome to Kenos! As a reminder, all players are required to fill out an application, which are now open. This does include characters/players from Aion Teleos, so please don’t forget to fill one out! Any character/player that does not submit an application will be swept from the communities and the Discord after applications close.
Activity Check is optional this month, but is highly recommend so Christy can check her fancy program so that you can earn Activity Reward Tokens! Activity will be able to be submitted shortly after applications close. You can find more about how we do AC here.
This log is Game Canon. Any characters who are not apped to the game will disappear. If Cyrus or Yima are asked, they’ll explain that this happens sometimes, since not every soul has a strong tether to Kenos and sometimes return to the Timestream. They’re fine and may even return to Kenos one day, but for now weren’t able to make the full journey.
As a reminder, your character has a Shard somewhere on their body that encompasses their soul, so keep note of where you're sticking it on their person for reference! Additionally, they have a tattoo of their Aspect somewhere on their body. Please be mindful this Aspect will be assigned to you upon approval and whatever you choose for the TDM may be temporary (for new characters)!
For the Highstorm and Springstar prompts, both cities will be fully open and accessible to all characters once they are saved from their rather harrowing ordeal at the Tree of Life. For prompt ideas and any general information about the cities and what you can find there, please see the Navigation page and check out the locations!
New players are welcome to join our Discord Server if you haven't already!
When they emerge from their cocoon/the ground, characters may be wearing their normal clothes, or they might be nude. Up to you!
At some point in the days after leaving the Tree of Life, new Shard-Bearers will have a dream, even if they're usually not capable of sleeping. All new players should read this post, since this details how they'll learn about both factions and their goals and should help them make a decision in which Faction they'd be drawn to.
New characters will not have access to any canon abilities on the TDM.
Your character will be offered temporary housing either at the Heliopolis district or Yima's manor for the first few weeks after their arrival. They will also be given a stipend for basic supplies like clothing and personal effects, and food is served in the cantina (Heliopolis) and at regular meal times in the Dining Room (Yima's manor). Once they Harmonize, they will get personal permanent chambers and a fancy retainer in their Faction's city. Wow! 🌈
Characters may be Harmonized to their Faction (if that makes sense for the character, of course!) by the time of this log. This is more for IC reference, and just wait until application acceptance to do the OOC paperwork!
General reminder that your character won't have access to their powers until they have Harmonized.
CODING
What: Seeds take root
Where: The Tree of Life, Highstorm, Springstar
When: October 14th and onwards
Warnings: Potential for (mild) body horror, death, dismemberment
I. BEARING FRUIT (new characters only)
It starts out as a pleasant dream. You’re in your favorite place, with your favorite people. It’s a moment of idyllic comfort.
And then, it goes wrong.
The sky turns dark above, and as you look up, you see the black expanse of space spotted with faraway pinprick lights of stars. Yet, they’re not stars. You’re certain. They’re watching you. A billion eyes all looking down, and they spill forth as if sky itself was a dam holding back those dark waters. You reach back to the people you’re with, but they’re frozen in place. Their eyes are black, reflecting only the expanse of dark eyes.
So you run, even though you know you won’t escape it. You glance back and see it not overtaking, but consuming. The landscape around you is being devoured, and you can see it cracking apart. The world itself is breaking, and it cracks under your feet. You fall, and the billion eyes chase after you until the darkness swallows you whole. There’s agony as if you’re being ripped apart, and then—
You cannot see. You cannot feel. You simply are. Yet even so, impossibly, a woman’s voice speaks gently.
I’m sorry it couldn’t be saved. But, come, it’s time to wake.
You wake with a start, cradled by soft, velvety plants, and sticky with a sap that smells faintly of honey and iron. You can see the veins of the leaves that hold you, lit warmly and gently by what looks like a crystal embedded above you. Yet, it’s odd, because that crystal calls to you. When you reach out to touch it, it’s warm. Familiar. Important. You don’t know why, but you know you must hold onto this, because now it feels wrong for it to be suspended in these leaves. So, you pull it out.
The light starts to fade, but only in time to see as the leaves cradling you immediately start to soften and crumble, and with it comes a torrent of dirt. Soft, loamy soil starts to fill the space around you in the dark as you’re buried. Or, rather, you already were. You reach out through the dirt desperately, and your hands finds a root, so you pull while you clutch that precious crystal so close that it almost feels like it sinks into you (in your panic, you don’t notice that it does). You reach out again, and this time, your hand hits open air and plenty of sturdy roots around to grab.
From a seed you’re born, and like a sprout, you make your way out of the ground.
And once you’ve clawed your way out of the soft earth and the roots, nearby, you see the soil shift. Another hand comes up to grasp desperately for something, anything, just as you had been.
And then, it goes wrong.
The sky turns dark above, and as you look up, you see the black expanse of space spotted with faraway pinprick lights of stars. Yet, they’re not stars. You’re certain. They’re watching you. A billion eyes all looking down, and they spill forth as if sky itself was a dam holding back those dark waters. You reach back to the people you’re with, but they’re frozen in place. Their eyes are black, reflecting only the expanse of dark eyes.
So you run, even though you know you won’t escape it. You glance back and see it not overtaking, but consuming. The landscape around you is being devoured, and you can see it cracking apart. The world itself is breaking, and it cracks under your feet. You fall, and the billion eyes chase after you until the darkness swallows you whole. There’s agony as if you’re being ripped apart, and then—
You cannot see. You cannot feel. You simply are. Yet even so, impossibly, a woman’s voice speaks gently.
I’m sorry it couldn’t be saved. But, come, it’s time to wake.
You wake with a start, cradled by soft, velvety plants, and sticky with a sap that smells faintly of honey and iron. You can see the veins of the leaves that hold you, lit warmly and gently by what looks like a crystal embedded above you. Yet, it’s odd, because that crystal calls to you. When you reach out to touch it, it’s warm. Familiar. Important. You don’t know why, but you know you must hold onto this, because now it feels wrong for it to be suspended in these leaves. So, you pull it out.
The light starts to fade, but only in time to see as the leaves cradling you immediately start to soften and crumble, and with it comes a torrent of dirt. Soft, loamy soil starts to fill the space around you in the dark as you’re buried. Or, rather, you already were. You reach out through the dirt desperately, and your hands finds a root, so you pull while you clutch that precious crystal so close that it almost feels like it sinks into you (in your panic, you don’t notice that it does). You reach out again, and this time, your hand hits open air and plenty of sturdy roots around to grab.
From a seed you’re born, and like a sprout, you make your way out of the ground.
And once you’ve clawed your way out of the soft earth and the roots, nearby, you see the soil shift. Another hand comes up to grasp desperately for something, anything, just as you had been.
II. MORAL HAZARD
There are new Shard-Bearers at the Tree of Life, and Yima has asked that the earlier arrivals go to greet them and help them. These aren’t people from Horos, after all, so they’ll have many, many questions. As Yima explains, the roots of the tree rise up to create caverns underneath, and it’s there you’ll find the new Shard-Bearers. And indeed, with careful steps to not slip on the mossy roots, down you go. Perhaps Communion will help you find the new Shard-Bearers, but it might be a confusing process for them.
The roots all start to look the same, to the point that you’re sure that you’ve already been through this passage. You turn around, and most of the people you had come here with are gone, if not all of them. It’s confusing and unsettling, and strangest of all.. You’re starting to feel ill, even if that wasn’t something normally possible for you. But continuing forward, you do eventually find an unfamiliar face of a new Shard-Bearer. They look no better than you feel.
Before introductions, however, roots around you shift suddenly until you’re enclosed in a room together. From the roots, a face forms in the wall. It speaks in a creaking, uneven tone, as if it weren’t used to speaking at all.
Give to take. A sacrifice. To live.
Characters can pick one of the following options, but the decision must be made unanimously. If one character takes a drastic action (such as murdering another), it’s counted as a failure for the group.
This can be done in groups of 2 to 4 players, and Loremasters recommend three if you can swing it! It’s more fun when you get in philosophical debates, right? Regardless, when your group comes to a decision, please record it here. These don’t have to be fully threaded out to be recorded, so the conclusion can be discussed OOC if you prefer. Actions can be submitted until October 21st, after which groups will be informed of what comes of their choice…
When a group receives the antidote, they'll be released from the tree's thrall... But will have a hard time waking up. It feels like something has grabbed onto their spine.
The roots all start to look the same, to the point that you’re sure that you’ve already been through this passage. You turn around, and most of the people you had come here with are gone, if not all of them. It’s confusing and unsettling, and strangest of all.. You’re starting to feel ill, even if that wasn’t something normally possible for you. But continuing forward, you do eventually find an unfamiliar face of a new Shard-Bearer. They look no better than you feel.
Before introductions, however, roots around you shift suddenly until you’re enclosed in a room together. From the roots, a face forms in the wall. It speaks in a creaking, uneven tone, as if it weren’t used to speaking at all.
Give to take. A sacrifice. To live.
LET'S PLAY A GAME...
As the Dryad will explain, characters are now trapped in a room and have been poisoned by the spores that the lichens underfoot release. An antidote lays beyond the roots the dryad has curled around you, but to access it, you must make a sacrifice.Characters can pick one of the following options, but the decision must be made unanimously. If one character takes a drastic action (such as murdering another), it’s counted as a failure for the group.
- Each of you must offer up a personal/treasured memory. The memory will be shared in Communion with all characters assembled, and then will be destroyed. No character will retain the memory or memory of its Communion.
- Each of you must offer up something physical. A finger, a toe, an ear, it’s your choice. The dryad will offer a knife if this is chosen that will sever the body part of choice cleanly and immediately stop any bleeding.
- Offer up another. Kill one person in the room.
- Refusing is also a valid option. Characters will get more ill as they debate until they start to find it difficult to breathe, and they’ll die quickly after.
This can be done in groups of 2 to 4 players, and Loremasters recommend three if you can swing it! It’s more fun when you get in philosophical debates, right? Regardless, when your group comes to a decision, please record it here. These don’t have to be fully threaded out to be recorded, so the conclusion can be discussed OOC if you prefer. Actions can be submitted until October 21st, after which groups will be informed of what comes of their choice…
When a group receives the antidote, they'll be released from the tree's thrall... But will have a hard time waking up. It feels like something has grabbed onto their spine.
III. DREAMING OF HOME
You may wake with a start from your deliberations (or arguments) with a jolt of pain from the base of your spine as something is pulled away rapidly. A dark-haired man who looks to be in his thirties or so holds you carefully, but as soon as you start to regain your senses, he sets you back and holds up his hands.
Woah— Woah there, it’s fine! The tree was, uh, trying to take you back is all. You’re fine now.
As long as you’re not going to attack him, he offers a friendly smile and a hand to shake.
Name’s Cyrus. Sorry about the rude awakening. Let’s get your friend here unhooked too.
And indeed, glancing over, you can see the person you met in that room laying nearby, and it looks like a vine has snaked underneath them to exactly where something had just been pulled from you… Best not to think about it, maybe. Or if you've been unlucky enough to be one of the last people rescued, you might find vines and roots starting to grow into your skin. It's fine!
Cyrus will gladly introduce himself to everyone, and will further explain his position in Meridian and Springstar (see the NPC Page) and the goals of Meridian itself (see the Faction Page, save for the italicized section). But most importantly, he’ll explain that he knows it sounds like something overly optimistic. It’s fair to be skeptical. He’ll produce a small glass bead from a bag he’s carrying. It looks like the necklace he wears, though not lit up. He’ll explain that the force of Meridian is a gift and can be a tether to your home, if you let it. As his fingertips light up, the energy is infused into the bead, which he’ll hand to you.
Taking the bead into your hands, you’ll take a bird’s eye view of your home world as if your consciousness is split, since you’ll still perceive standing in front of Cyrus at the tree. Rather than a vision, the view of your world is absolutely real, you’re certain. It’s a glimpse at the world that you thought destroyed, and if you focus on a particular place or a particular person, you’ll find the view shifting rapidly to it. No one you watch is aware of your presence, but simply continues about their daily life, whatever that is. But after about a minute, the view will fade as the light in the bead also fades.
That’s an iliachtida, a sunbeam, and when infused with Meridian’s light, allows someone Harmonized to it to check in on their world, he explains. It also acts as an anchor that tethers their soul to their world in the Timestream. With it, their world can’t entirely disappear, so eventually, they can go home. It’s a gift he’ll allow anyone that wants it to keep it, but indeed, they’ll be unable to use it again without first Harmonizing to Meridian.
To help manage threadload for the Loremasters playing Cyrus, we ask that you only tag him with the character you are most likely to app. Similarly, new tag-ins will not be accepted after Monday, October 17th.
Woah— Woah there, it’s fine! The tree was, uh, trying to take you back is all. You’re fine now.
As long as you’re not going to attack him, he offers a friendly smile and a hand to shake.
Name’s Cyrus. Sorry about the rude awakening. Let’s get your friend here unhooked too.
And indeed, glancing over, you can see the person you met in that room laying nearby, and it looks like a vine has snaked underneath them to exactly where something had just been pulled from you… Best not to think about it, maybe. Or if you've been unlucky enough to be one of the last people rescued, you might find vines and roots starting to grow into your skin. It's fine!
CYRUS, THE TRIBUNE
Cyrus is the NPC heading up the Meridian Faction, and is available to thread with under this header. Cyrus has come to the Tree of Life to help rescue the Shard-Bearer’s from the Tree, so he’s not going to be inclined to explain too much right away, since he’s on a mission, but he’ll stick around once everyone is successfully freed from Prompt 2 to speak with anyone that wants to. The following is just an OOC summary of information in case you do not need to thread with Cyrus:Cyrus will gladly introduce himself to everyone, and will further explain his position in Meridian and Springstar (see the NPC Page) and the goals of Meridian itself (see the Faction Page, save for the italicized section). But most importantly, he’ll explain that he knows it sounds like something overly optimistic. It’s fair to be skeptical. He’ll produce a small glass bead from a bag he’s carrying. It looks like the necklace he wears, though not lit up. He’ll explain that the force of Meridian is a gift and can be a tether to your home, if you let it. As his fingertips light up, the energy is infused into the bead, which he’ll hand to you.
Taking the bead into your hands, you’ll take a bird’s eye view of your home world as if your consciousness is split, since you’ll still perceive standing in front of Cyrus at the tree. Rather than a vision, the view of your world is absolutely real, you’re certain. It’s a glimpse at the world that you thought destroyed, and if you focus on a particular place or a particular person, you’ll find the view shifting rapidly to it. No one you watch is aware of your presence, but simply continues about their daily life, whatever that is. But after about a minute, the view will fade as the light in the bead also fades.
That’s an iliachtida, a sunbeam, and when infused with Meridian’s light, allows someone Harmonized to it to check in on their world, he explains. It also acts as an anchor that tethers their soul to their world in the Timestream. With it, their world can’t entirely disappear, so eventually, they can go home. It’s a gift he’ll allow anyone that wants it to keep it, but indeed, they’ll be unable to use it again without first Harmonizing to Meridian.
To help manage threadload for the Loremasters playing Cyrus, we ask that you only tag him with the character you are most likely to app. Similarly, new tag-ins will not be accepted after Monday, October 17th.
III. SPRINGSTAR, αιώνιος ήλιος
After your ordeals at the Tree of Life, perhaps you’re drawn to Springstar, the city of eternal sun and the seat of Meridian.
It’s currently (and fittingly) Spring in Springstar, and the bustling city is coming back to life after finishing up winter. It’s not as if the winters are especially harsh here, but you’ll quickly get the sense that the people of Springstar are vivacious and happy to celebrate. You’ll find the Entertainment District to be the liveliest, whether it’s at a rowdy bar or a brothel, but no matter what, you’re welcome with open arms and without question.
Of course, if you’d just like to use the chance to explore the city alongside your fellow Shard-Bearers, that’s fine too. It’s easy to get lost in the crowds of Springstar and see all the city has to offer.
It’s currently (and fittingly) Spring in Springstar, and the bustling city is coming back to life after finishing up winter. It’s not as if the winters are especially harsh here, but you’ll quickly get the sense that the people of Springstar are vivacious and happy to celebrate. You’ll find the Entertainment District to be the liveliest, whether it’s at a rowdy bar or a brothel, but no matter what, you’re welcome with open arms and without question.
Of course, if you’d just like to use the chance to explore the city alongside your fellow Shard-Bearers, that’s fine too. It’s easy to get lost in the crowds of Springstar and see all the city has to offer.
IV. HIGHSTORM, луны-близнецы
Or maybe Highstorm, the city of twin moons and the seat of Zenith is more to your liking. It’s certainly the quieter of the two cities and is a relaxing, meditative place if that’s what you prefer. The chill in the air is constant, since it’s Autumn in Highstorm and the eternal night doesn’t help keep things warm, exactly. Snow isn’t out of the question at this time of the year, but it’s beautiful in the moonlight.
Because of the cooler weather than Highstorm is prone to, you’ll find many of its delights inside rather than outside. Libraries and museums are popular in the more introspective city, though it’s easy enough to find something that might please you. For example, the indoor hot baths are popular at this time of the year too. You’ll find the people are kind, if cool-tempered, though if you mention the fact that you’re a Shard-Bearer or allied with Zenith, they’re more likely to warm up.
Though much like Springstar, it may just be more interesting to explore the city with a fellow Shard-Bearer. And as a resident may warn you, it’s best to stay in the city. Wandering out into the marshes and forests isn’t advised. Of course, if you do, just contact a Loremaster to find out why. ♥
Because of the cooler weather than Highstorm is prone to, you’ll find many of its delights inside rather than outside. Libraries and museums are popular in the more introspective city, though it’s easy enough to find something that might please you. For example, the indoor hot baths are popular at this time of the year too. You’ll find the people are kind, if cool-tempered, though if you mention the fact that you’re a Shard-Bearer or allied with Zenith, they’re more likely to warm up.
Though much like Springstar, it may just be more interesting to explore the city with a fellow Shard-Bearer. And as a resident may warn you, it’s best to stay in the city. Wandering out into the marshes and forests isn’t advised. Of course, if you do, just contact a Loremaster to find out why. ♥
NOTES
no subject
Oh, no you don't. You got us into this mess.
[ She huffs - it's almost comically not befitting of the gravity of the situation considering the childish blame game, and that's her intention: to break even a bit of the tension in the room, to try to elicit a reaction from Kaeya himself, not the dryad. It's obvious he's being controlled in some way - so that means the dryad is here listening, too? Kaeya is still in there, she's sure of it, and whatever she has to do to prevent him from going through with it, and for them all to make it out of this, she's going to do. There's no way in hell she'll let herself die here - so her vision and mental state tunnels into that single focus to survive, throwing away all else. If she has to hurt him to do that, so be it. If she has to hurt herself to do that? So be it. Whatever she has to throw away to get out? That's fine. Even being able to go back on their original agreement to put up some flesh would be a win in this scenario - it's nothing she wasn't prepared to do, anyway. ]
All it wants is a sacrifice, right? [ Kaeya's still standing before her, knife brandished, and she doesn't move to stand - but she does raise out her left hand, holding it palm up. How can she placate a spirit who just got stabbed in the face or whatever 20 times? All she can think to do is try to give it what it wants, and to try to surrender it earnestly - pray that the others will follow suit. ] Tell it that it can have whatever it wants from my hand. Promise. No funny business. So please just stop this...
[ The faster they get it over with, the faster everyone's suffering will end, right...? ]
no subject
Kaeya knows he got them into this mess. He knows he's the only one to blame for making this so much worse than it should have been. He won't allow himself to have the luxury of feeling sorry for himself when he doesn't deserve that much. No. If anything, he's the one who has to keep it together until this is over. He's the one who has to take in every excruciating detail of what's going to happen next just so he'll never make the same mistake again.
(It figures that his attempt to get the other three out of harm's way is exactly what puts them directly in the line of fire. He'd laugh again over the irony if he could.)
He looks towards Amos at first, then at Gen, and then finally at Misa. Although the rest of his face doesn't show it, how sorry he is about this entire mess is as clear as day in the hue of his eye. They don't have to forgive him. They just have to get through this, and then he'll... Who knows. He'll figure that out later.
His struggles die down, and just like that, the hand holding onto the knife moves to offer the blade to Misa. When he speaks, it isn't just his voice that carries through. The dryad speaks through him, blending the noise into a multi-tonal dissonance that's unsettling. ]
Give. Offer. Or we will take.
[ At least Misa has already made up her mind. ]
no subject
Amos' world had died down to a single speck, a single point of darkness as he'd thrashed, strained, did everything in his power to rip away from the vines holding him in place, useless and trapped and at the mercy of something he doesn't understand. All there was was him, and the binds holding him, and the desperate, desperate need to break free, because he knows what comes next.
But it's not like he can do this forever. Amos fights, because when he stops, when he gives in— But he's exhausting himself, his movements growing weaker by the moment, breaths increasingly haggard as he grunts with lessening and lessening effort.
And then that fucked up voice comes through, and Amos lifts his head — and actually sees what's going on for the first time.
Gen, looking just like him. Misa, who looks like she's okay — and Kaeya—
His blood runs cold.
He's never seen anything like this before, but he knows this isn't right. It's inside of him, inextricably deep, parasitic. It's— we, Kaeya had said—
Amos leans forward, boots scrambling for purchase against the wall of roots, trying to use them as something to push himself off with, give him that extra leverage he needs to wrench himself free. All he has is his strength. All he will ever actually have is his strength, and it is failing him, and he cannot do this, as his efforts begin anew, strained and strained and strained, veins visible under his skin as he tries desperately to push himself forward, rip himself free— ]
Kill him!
[ His shout is loud, panicked, laboured as he continues to try to free himself. He's barely gaining any traction— He has to— ]
You think he wants this? [ He's yelling, his words directed at Misa. This is very much an order on his part now, because Amos knows he wouldn't want this, because he's unable to do anything himself. ] Put him out of his misery and kill him!
no subject
[ Amos' voice is harsh with desperation, but equally sharp is the retort that Gen spits back at him, eyes flashing bright with genuine rage. It's anger aimed mostly at the dryad, admittedly, but there's also slivers of it aimed at Amos and Kaeya, needling sharp towards them (even if Kaeya can't feel it). Plant matter creaks and groans Gen continues to fight against his restraints, sweat plastering strands of his hair damp against his brow from the physical exertion, but he still snarls between ragged breaths, ]
We can undo whatever it is! And what're you gonna do if it grabs her [ Misa, he means ], next? Try to kill her, too?!
[ The incredulous bark of his words cuts off with a wet cough as Gen briefly chokes on his own spit, so frantic in his attempts to rebuke Amos and free himself at the same time that he's rendering himself breathless. But even before he's caught his breath, even before he's cleared his throat, Gen strains at those vines holding him down -- tearing his attention away from Amos to look to Misa and, past her shoulder, Kaeya.
Or rather, whatever the hell is in Kaeya right now. ]
I'll do it, too. You want something, right? I'll give it!
[ Just saying those words makes him feel a little sick as his thoughts inevitably flash back to the breathtaking pain of when he'd lost his arm, watching blood pour from that truncated limb in a curtain of red and dying a fountain's waters scarlet. He's not even sure what he's going to be giving up this time. Regardless, it's going to hurt, he knows. It's going to hurt, and adapting to it will be tough, and it's going to suck. But still -- it's preferable to having to watch someone he considers an ally die right before his eyes again.
He swallows thickly, trying to ignore the chill creeping down his spice; despite the pallor of his face, his words are said with a grim conviction when he repeats, ]
I'll give you what you want.
[ So Misa can't kill Kaeya; she's not even going to try, right? They're all going to get out of this alive. That has to be the solution. ]
no subject
Right, because attacking it worked so well the first time! If you two had thought of all of us, he wouldn't be like that right now, so don't yell at me!
[ It feels different from when Amos had attacked them— they'd had no choice back then. To her, it feels like this time around, there's at least some prior evidence of offering up a sacrifice doing something. Besides, it's as Gen says - who's to say a different one of them won't be possessed, if Kaeya is killed? Or they'll just get caught in this room after the dryad is dead, and die of poisoning? It's not that she particularly has qualms about killing Kaeya, if she had to do it (sorry king)... but it just doesn't feel like it'll actually be advantageous in this situation.
There's not a single molecule of her that's convinced that killing the dryad will release them from the room— actually, she thinks killing it will seal them in here for good. Then what? Amos will just have to be stuck against that wall for even longer, which clearly is torture for him. She has half a mind to say as much, but she bites her tongue, looking at her own reflection in the blade.
With Gen's blessing and agreement to cooperate, she steels herself, placing her left hand down on the earthen floor, spreading out the thin digits of her fingers. She can do this. It's nothing. If it's to keep living, so that her and Light's dream can come true, then she'll gladly do it. For a moment, she's almost grateful for her bad mood— she doesn't feel half as scared as she did before. There's a pause where she lets out a shuddering breath, as the sharp edge of the blade presses into her skin just below the knuckle on her left pinky. Against her will, her heart hammers away at an uncomfortably fast tempo, reverberating amidst the room through them all. ]
If you make me go through this for nothing.... I... [ Her breath hitches as the blade cuts through skin, and she hesitates to apply more pressure. ] I swear I'll never forgive you. You got that? That means all of you!
[ Because if she musters the courage to cut off her own finger, only for another person in the room to try something, and ruin it for them all? She truly doesn't know what she'll do. Her next movements are rushed, clearly acting in a decisive, spur of the moment way - the magical nature of the knife helps her cut clean through the sinew and bone, aided by the sheer force she put behind the motion. It's so fast that at first, all she can do is gasp and yank her hand back to clutch at it, as if shocked that it even went through - leaving the knife to clatter back to the ground. But the evidence that the deed is done is obvious: there in the dirt lays the smallest finger on her left hand, still devoid of a nail. ]
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another set of roots have moved forward to collect the bloodied blade, dangling it as it rises to be placed in Kaeya's right hand; the roots squirming beneath his skin, the tendrils of vinery like sinew and muscle seizing his body encourage him to curl his fingers around it.
where Gen and Amos are held, the vines tighten uncomfortably, undulating disconcertingly. the Dryad speaks, a harsh, creaking whisper - and Kaeya's voice can be heard overlaid beside it: ]
Give...
[ it sends its next command through him. ]
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He watches as Misa steels herself before she cuts off her own finger, eerily quiet and wordless because what is he supposed to say here, really? Apologies won't mean anything. Not after what he did. But that's not all. Once the knife clatters to the ground again, the roots bring it back to his grasp, the vines in him forcing his fingers to curl around the hilt. His first instinct is to resist it, of course, but then he remembers himself. Misa's words repeat endlessly inside his own mind.
( I'll never forgive you. )
He lets the tension melt away, and then allows the dryad to do whatever it wants, guiding him towards Gen since he's the one who offered next. It's difficult to read the expression on his face right now, but — parts of his earlier regret still lingers, even if they're more muted now. Glossed over by a layer of numbness that's supposed to help make this easier.
Spoilers: it doesn't.
His grip on the knife tightens. ]
Pick. If not... we'll choose for you.
[ What's it gonna be, Gen? ]
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So -- even as his stomach twists at the sight of Misa recoiling, the sour taste of bile rising in the back of his throat when he notices the squirm of vines swallowing up the severed finger, he knows ... backing out isn't an option. Not any more. Maybe it wasn't one in the first place. After all, he can't let himself be seen backing out like a coward when a girl actually went through with this, right?
His breaths are coming in shallow, wheezing rasps by the time Kaeya approaches him with the bloodied knife in hand, and Gen's face is flecked with sweat from more than physical exertion. He feels dizzy; something's wrenching tight in his chest. Shadows eat away at the fringes of his field of vision, and his thoughts keep flickering towards other moments in time, the faint iron stench of blood nudging his frazzled mind towards further-back memories. (A kitchen knife clutched in his hands back when they were smaller, his fingers sticky with blood. A different knife lying on tatami flooring, its blade gleaming wet and red. A sword lying on the pavement, accompanied by the sight of his arm freshly severed halfway down the shoulder.) ]
... fuck.
[ God, he hates knives.
He's silent for far too long save that low mutter under his breath. And while it might look for a moment like Gen really can't go through with this -- he abruptly shudders, blinking a bead of sweat off his lashes. Clenches his eyes shut and keeps closed as he grits his teeth in thought. Then, finally: ]
-- my foot. [ Gen speaks uncharacteristically softly, painfully tense within his confines as he keeps his eyes closed, willing that darkness to force him calm. ] L -- right. [ A brief pause as he shakes his head. Which side would be better? Should he distribute the damage, make it opposite where his arm's missing? No, it doesn't seem wise. ] -- no, left. The small toe on my left foot.
[ It takes him one, two hapless tries to take his next breath with how choked his throat feels, but he manages in the end, followed by a humorless laugh. His face is terribly pale, but at least he's managed to level his voice to something flat and grim when he adds wanly, ]
It's an honor, y'know. Every bit counts when you're already down a limb. An' I'm giving one up to you. [ Too bad all the bravado in the world can't hide the way his hand is clenched to a pale-knuckled fist, shaking slightly. ] So -- let me out of here. I'll do it. No funny business.
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(Yeah; if the dryad had grabbed Misa next, he would have tried to kill her, too. He has no way of knowing what's going through Kaeya's had at the moment, just that there are worse things than dying, and he's living it right now. That can be his only priority right now — put Kaeya out of his misery, and if it ends up with all of them dead, then it ends up with all of them dead. It'd be worth it.)
Amos continues to struggle at the vines that hold him firmly in place, grunting through gritted teeth, muscles growing increasingly sore with the futile effort — and too focused on that than to offer up any retorts to Gen or Misa, who have made up their minds, whatever it might mean for Kaeya. He's not going to win any arguments here; if he could, then he would've just killed himself from the beginning and none of this would have ever happened. They'd have all been better off.
But he can't just singlehandedly rip through them — and when Misa says she'll never forgive them, Amos stops.
His body stills as he watches Misa cut off her finger, heart sinking at the sight of it. For her — for the inevitable he's starting to feel, that creeping sensation along the nape of his neck, the cold chill that washes over him. And as the vines tighten further around him, he feels like he can't breathe. There's no struggle left to be had here; all there is is to go limp and take it.
Amos isn't one for crying — hasn't been for decades — but pinpricks of tears form at the corners of his eyes, and stay there. That's as far as he'll ever get.
He's so fucking helpless. The way Kaeya says we. The way Gen has to offer up a body part to him, picking a part of himself to lose while completely at the mercy of something that has none. He watches them through dead eyes as he starts to retreat back into himself, feeling absolutely nothing, an empty vessel for someone who's barely even a person and nothing more.
He's done. ]
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He won't let himself forget even after all of this is over.
When Gen finally decides what he's giving up, the dryad shows no obvious signs of listening to him. The vines remain firmly wrapped around his person, perhaps some parts tightening as if to say it isn't about to take a chance. It will get what it's owed and that will be the end of it — no one is being let go until the price has been paid in full. So it forces Kaeya to move, lowering himself on one knee right in front of Gen. There's a brief moment where Gen might catch Kaeya looking at him but it's all gone by the time the roots around Gen's left leg unfurl completely.
Just enough for Kaeya to unbuckle the fastenings on his boot before slowly, gradually, slipping it off.
Deft fingers curl around the sole of Gen's foot, and then with one quick and precise movement, the knife cuts the chosen toe cleanly. It drops on the floor where it is quickly swallowed by the vines, just like what happened with Misa's finger. No further acknowledgement of what just happened is given beyond the continued slithering of vines moving back into place.
Kaeya is brought to stand soon after, wordlessly ambling towards where Amos is at. He's still holding onto the knife pretty tightly. ]
Pick...
[ One more to go, and then it'll be his turn soon enough. ]
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Amos stares blankly as Gen loses a toe, as whatever it is in Kaeya's body puppets him into mutilation. He has no reaction to offer up; absolutely nothing to give. Is it a horrific sight, Kaeya's body clearly not his own, something inhuman under his skin having taken complete control? Seeing two of those he's closest to give up parts of themselves, only to be swallowed by this thing that's co-opted another of his people? Sure — but the dryad has also made it clear that this is inevitable, so what kind of reaction should he give? What is it even expecting?
Objectively, he knows what it's expecting — but finding a way to answer is like trying to see through a heavy fog, and it's all Amos can do but dully watch Kaeya's body as it makes its way towards him, knife in hand, demanding something of him, and his reaction is instinctual.
Amos goes limp in the vines' grasp, because the sooner he just takes it, the sooner it'll be over with; the less resistance he offers up, the gentler it might be. His mouth doesn't even try to form words, his eyes seeing without really seeing. This is wrong, and I can't do anything about it, so he won't do anything. He won't pick.
He's only really present in body; anyone inside of him — anyone at home — has long since retreated to curl up in the darkest recesses of his mind, where maybe it won't hurt, where maybe he can shield himself from the worst of it.
He's been defeated. Just do whatever. It doesn't matter; it never did. ]