![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
vander's rescue
Who: Vander, his lovely and brave rescuers, and a whole lotta trouble
What: Vander was kidnapped by Aetós, so the people come to save him! OOC information and plotting can be found here.
Where: “The Zoo” in the Below
When: Sometime in between the TDM and March 17th OOC
Warnings: Violence, references to human experimentation/torture
It’s a long, winding way down into the Below, and you’re being led there by what seems like a girl, though at this point you’re also confident that she’s anything but. She’s fought with Shard-Bearers and held her own but was also captured by them to be questioned. And, in that, she eventually gave a piece of information in return. Her master, Aetós, had kidnapped Vander. If you don’t kill her, she can take you to where he’s being hidden. You can save him before her master makes him wrong.
So, a rescue effort was mounted. With many Shard-Bearers across factions here either to save Vander or simple for the allure of learning more about this mysterious figure, it at least gives you confidence that it can be handled. It’s disorienting down here so far below Springstar, but eventually, she comes to what looks like a sealed-up tunnel. She holds her hands against two particular bricks, and after a moment, they glow with teal light before all the bricks seem to shimmer. Like they all suddenly break, they become floating little motes of light, and a doorway lays before you.
It's a long corridor, but it doesn’t take long before you smell it before you see anything. There’s a largely animal smell here like a zoo, but it’s tinged more heavily with the smells of blood and rot. It’s enough to make a weak stomach heave a bit or at least get the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on end. But still, the girl continues on until you can see the hallway spill out to a large room.
Laying on a dissecting table is some kind of strange animal, but standing over it is a similarly strange masked figure. Some of you know, it’s Aetós.
“Right on time, Adelfoúla,” is all they say as they stand and hold up a silver hand. A complex orb of light appears, and they crush it. In front of you, Adelfoúla only gives a dispassionate ah— that’s followed by the sound of shattering porcelain, and she simply crumbles at the waist. You can rush forward, try to meet Aetós, but calmly, they just say—
“This will be good data. Hopefully you’ll find Vander before he gets eaten.”
And with a tick like the movement of a watch’s hand, they’re simply… Gone. Those sensitive to such things will feel it, the pulse of intense, strong magic, but before you can fully process, you can hear it: the creaking of cage doors opening down the myriad of hallways that line this one large room, the rumble of growls and claws against stone. Vander is somewhere in this maze of a facility, and you have to find him. Or maybe you just have to find what Aetós left behind.
OOC Notes : This log is a catch-all for all efforts related to the Save Vander plot! Including Vander's no fun, very bad time itself! If you'd like to participate in this plot, please see the OOC post. While the text above describes the initial arrival, this log can also be used for pre/post plot Communion, planning beforehand, etc. along with the expected threads in the facility!
What: Vander was kidnapped by Aetós, so the people come to save him! OOC information and plotting can be found here.
Where: “The Zoo” in the Below
When: Sometime in between the TDM and March 17th OOC
Warnings: Violence, references to human experimentation/torture
It’s a long, winding way down into the Below, and you’re being led there by what seems like a girl, though at this point you’re also confident that she’s anything but. She’s fought with Shard-Bearers and held her own but was also captured by them to be questioned. And, in that, she eventually gave a piece of information in return. Her master, Aetós, had kidnapped Vander. If you don’t kill her, she can take you to where he’s being hidden. You can save him before her master makes him wrong.
So, a rescue effort was mounted. With many Shard-Bearers across factions here either to save Vander or simple for the allure of learning more about this mysterious figure, it at least gives you confidence that it can be handled. It’s disorienting down here so far below Springstar, but eventually, she comes to what looks like a sealed-up tunnel. She holds her hands against two particular bricks, and after a moment, they glow with teal light before all the bricks seem to shimmer. Like they all suddenly break, they become floating little motes of light, and a doorway lays before you.
It's a long corridor, but it doesn’t take long before you smell it before you see anything. There’s a largely animal smell here like a zoo, but it’s tinged more heavily with the smells of blood and rot. It’s enough to make a weak stomach heave a bit or at least get the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on end. But still, the girl continues on until you can see the hallway spill out to a large room.
Laying on a dissecting table is some kind of strange animal, but standing over it is a similarly strange masked figure. Some of you know, it’s Aetós.
“Right on time, Adelfoúla,” is all they say as they stand and hold up a silver hand. A complex orb of light appears, and they crush it. In front of you, Adelfoúla only gives a dispassionate ah— that’s followed by the sound of shattering porcelain, and she simply crumbles at the waist. You can rush forward, try to meet Aetós, but calmly, they just say—
“This will be good data. Hopefully you’ll find Vander before he gets eaten.”
And with a tick like the movement of a watch’s hand, they’re simply… Gone. Those sensitive to such things will feel it, the pulse of intense, strong magic, but before you can fully process, you can hear it: the creaking of cage doors opening down the myriad of hallways that line this one large room, the rumble of growls and claws against stone. Vander is somewhere in this maze of a facility, and you have to find him. Or maybe you just have to find what Aetós left behind.
OOC Notes : This log is a catch-all for all efforts related to the Save Vander plot! Including Vander's no fun, very bad time itself! If you'd like to participate in this plot, please see the OOC post. While the text above describes the initial arrival, this log can also be used for pre/post plot Communion, planning beforehand, etc. along with the expected threads in the facility!
cw: spiders, broken bones
A very nice title, too -- the Archivist.
Said Archivist's shout draws Zhongli from his inner musings. Ah, millennia to adapt and he still hadn't quite shored up that specific vulnerability of shield. As Zhongli's attention turns to the newest threat, the shield drops so that John doesn't receive a nasty surprise of running into the equivalent of a stone wall as he's trying to get out of the way.
The bone-spider scuttles about on its spindly appendages, lightweight and quick on its feet as it has deemed the scrambling figure the easiest of the three prey. However, delicate bones are also woefully weak to bludgeoning and one, two whacks with the flat edge of the spear's blade is enough to shatter two of the spider's legs. For a creature with no discernable flesh and muscle it does manage a shrill sounding shriek that leaves Zhongli's ears ringing. A final thrust straight though one of its gaping eye sockets is enough to finish the job as the skull cracks with a sickening crunch before the creature falls dead to the floor. ]
Ah. You are correct. They are indeed spiders.
[ Another nudge with his spear and more of the bone chips and crumbles away. ]
Though I would have expected constructs to be made of something less--- organic.
[ Looks like Zhongli would indeed be appreciative if Jod would explain the difference. If they had the time for that, anyway.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
Like a swarm, the rest of the hidden bone-spiders descend upon their location. Perhaps it is on instinct to avenge one of their own or perhaps it an even baser instinct to use their superior numbers to tip the scales. Either way, it is not too long before the skittering of dozens of bone feelers surround them. ]
cw: skeletons, more broken bones
a very short-lived victory, unfortunately, as their enemy attacks, which does not deter john from his opportunity to teach. ]
The difference is the soul. Something properly undead possesses a soul within a dead body. Whatever material a construct is made of, it's just programming. You can smash these up guilt-free all day long, and they might as well be made of popsicle sticks.
[ if popsicle sticks were femurs and tibias and skulls, but you know, whatever, man.
the fallen bone creature zhongli put an end to dissolves into grey dust before reforming into a hulking humanoid-shaped skeleton. it lacks hands — its arm bones fashioned into weapons — and demonstrates their usefulness when it charges over and smashes into another of the bone spiders going after the archivist.
congratulations on the new bodyguard, archivist~ ]
Bone is a good, stable material to work with. Ideally, these will tell us something useful when they're less of a threat. This is amateur hour in here, so all these bones had to come from somewhere.
[ he raises a couple more skeletons to help fend off the spider army. it's more time-consuming than just taking them apart, but he's not trying to let on exactly what he's capable of anyway and he learns more from the observations. that paranoid feeling isn't helping, so he'll stick to being the simple skeleton guy for now. ]
cw skeletons, bones, spiders
now he feels as though he has been unceremoniously dumped right back into a situation that had become all-too-familiar for him in his last few years in the Archives: helplessly imperiled while those around him operate at a level of such elevated efficiency and ease that it only makes him feel bedraggled in comparison. as the Archivist, he had never been meant to act in such a way. it's why he had purposefully been surrounded by those touched by the Slaughter, by the Hunt, those who by their employment to the Institute had been made responsible for his protection. it's never been a particularly pleasant feeling, to rely so completely on others, but he does it both reflexively and begrudgingly at this point.
as Archivist, he isn't meant to fight — he is an instrument painstakingly prepared for the sole purpose of feeling fear, and he's feeling plenty of that right now. the scuttling of arachnid forms breathes life into decades-old trauma he typically tries to keep a tight lid on (personally fortunate that the Web is not so unsubtle as to send their agents at him actively). he wouldn't have even hazarded a guess as to how this new john might defend himself, but as a fully-fledged skeleton with scything blades for arms is pulled together out of the fragments of a smashed spider, he can't help his eyes from flying wide, muttering, ) good Lord, ( under his breath. fortunately enough the construct slashes through one of the creatures as it prepared to attack him, but he nevertheless feels unsettled by the dim red pinpricks of light hovering in the empty sockets. he recalls the chill, grasping touch of death — of tendrils tethering each beating heart to their inevitable cessation. he's... just going to have to unpack the rather obvious display of what he has to interpret as necromancy (???) for another time.
and all the while, in the tumult of swinging weapons and slashing limbs, the crunching and cracking of splintering bone, and the high-pitched shrieks of the dying creatures, his two companions carry on a thoughtful conversation as if they were at afternoon tea and not culling a swarm of skeletal spiders in an underground monster zoo. there's something about that seriously grates on his nerves, though maybe it's just because he's the only one feeling worried for his well-being here, even though his newfound bodyguard has been doing a great job of crushing anything that gets too close to either of them.
though, he can't help but ask: ) What - What exactly do you mean by - ah — ( an pincer attack from two angles this time, though be it by zhongli's spear or the raised skeletons, they're dealt with without much issue, ) "amateur" here?
( he's not questioning your knowledge on the matter, mr god, sir, but he's just... curious... )
cw: skeletons, bones, spiders
Zhongli raises one eyebrow in interest as John raises his own construct (surely those too must not have souls) also of the skeletal variety from the fallen spider. He cocks his head to one side curiously as he watches it fend off the next spider that surely would have liked to take a bite out of John the Archivist. Attention captured elsewhere, the next strike of Zhongli's spear comes without him touching the weapon at all. Instead it smashes into a spider in a sideways arc with nothing but the motion of his arm making a parallel movement as a reflex to catching a hint of movement out of the corner of his eye.
Grating was rather a kind way to put being a non-combatant paired up with these two particular individuals. ]
I see. While quite fortuitous to our conscious--
[ Unnecessary for while Zhongli would not consider himself righteous like the God of Justice, he did not feel guilt for defending that which threatened what was his regardless of the reasoning. It was simply something that required doing. ]
-- it also means such beings can only be destroyed instead of swayed or reasoned with.
[ Like John the Archivist, he is also curious to what John means by amateur. While not particularly dangerous to this group, the small bone spiders were formidable in number and seemed to operate quite cohesively even with Aetós probably having fled far away by now. ]
cw: being extra mean to bone spiders
[ he says this primarily to himself, still observing the chaos around him unbothered. the others may not know exactly what they're dealing with, but john's willingness to downplay his necromancy does not extend to letting lowly constructs touch him. when one finally decides to take a run at him directly he decides to change tactics, just this once.
the spider's pointy limbs bend back and snap when it tries to strike at him, leaving it shrieking and flailing without half its legs to stand on. pulling it apart after that is easy, like cutting a puppet's strings and letting the individual pieces clatter to the ground. ]
Being able to grow your own bones is baby bone magic, but almost all the organic stuff here is locally sourced.
[ which is still a clue despite his throwing shade. ]
That makes sense if he was only experimenting with control, I suppose.
[ and speaking of control, whatever zhongli is doing with his spear looks pretty cool in the needlessly stylish kind of way, which john can appreciate. john the archivist... not so much, but the construct he's set to protect him keeps doing its job very effectively nonetheless. ]
no subject
but, no, these did indeed seem to be more like machines programmed for a purpose, so they are at least spared that twist of a moral quandary for now. but it feels foolish to think they might manage to avoid it indefinitely.
if they are creatures devoid of thought or reason, it only means that he's doubly useless against them, as his only real manner of defense towards anything that would intend on doing him harm is to attempt to compel them into deciding otherwise. zhongli and the raised skeletons do a handy job of reducing the swarm of spider-like constructs to shards and bonemeal. the creatures' advantage in numbers causes more than a few close calls, but given the other john's proficiency at the matter at hand, that advantage is essentially nullified.
oh, right, of course. surely it's child's play for anyone to conjure a human tibia out of thin air, he thinks to himself, completely unaware of how accurate the griping was. no, he's just too busy thinking about how jared hopworth might have taken such comments.
after a brief coughing fit (he's trying not to think about how much of the dust he might be inhaling is pulverized bone), he does pry at something the emperor had said, however, ) And how certain are you that he was only experimenting with control?
( for these constructs, it's hard to say. perhaps they were just intended to be a defensive force, ready to be loosed on unexpected and unwanted guests. but aetós' undue fascination with shards and the soul makes john uneasy. sure, it would be an easy enough way to exert one's will over another, to manipulate it, but... what manon had said had been done to his shard — it had felt to him like there was far more to that than simply trying to exert control on previously unknown variables. )
cw: bone spider bullying continues
As for John's necromancy powers - look, Zhongli isn't one to find it strange that one could conjure tibias out of thin air when he has unintentionally forged an entire mountain range in his squabble with another god. To each their own affinities, and really was organic matter so different than the earth or water or wind. The fact that he is able to easily dismantle a bone construct of someone's else creation just attests to how attuned he is to such a subject.
Fascinating. ]
It seems Aetós's interests span far and wide in the subject of life, both artificial and artificially manipulated.
[ Zhongli takes a step closer to John the Archivist at the coughing fit, checking to make sure that it was nothing more than the sheer amount of dust in the air. Especially around John since he seemed to be the unfortunately preferred target. ]
Lesser threats that these may be---
[ A swooping gesture to the few final spiders that do not have the capacity to understand a tactical retreat. ]
Perhaps there is more to be found further in.
f in the chat for the spiders
[ john doesn't really need to touch any of the bones directly, but he does for good measure. his senses have been funny along with the rest of his powers, so it's helpful. just a femur, all nice and made whole again when he heals where the bone was chipped in battle.
it's the chips he can't recover that are interesting — teeth marks by the look of them. he tucks the bone under one arm like a baton. ]
It's as you say: there is a lot more to this place than this. These are something like sketches, if anything, if bone magic were like painting. [ it's not. ] But he learned something from this, which is what matters. [ and he mutters now half under his breath. ] Doesn't mean it's not still shit necromancy.
[ john looks forward to meeting aetós someday to give his review directly, but for now at least they get a small reprieve from the violence. his constructs help finish off the last of the spiders and then collapse back into piles of bone themselves, their purpose served. ]
I'm more concerned with the interference down here. It feels worse than it does outside.
[ he means whatever's sapping their powers here, which he assumes everyone can feel. ]
no subject
But it does appear to be necromancy to you. Or - or rather, the type that you're familiar with.
( he has to assume terms like "bone magician" and "spirit magic" have a greater scholarly and/or theoretical meaning to him, but it all sounds a little too "saturday morning cartoon halloween special" to him. in his mind, necromancy had more been relegated to esoterica of past decades, though there were certainly places where Terminus reached into the world that might convince those who came across them otherwise. but those were visions of the damned dead, or those forced to reap living souls until another finally managed to best them in a game of chance... there's nothing he can recall in anything he'd read or heard that matches what he sees now. )
If they are trying to learn how to apply various - types of magic, or techniques, or, or processes from our worlds... ( he breathes out a short sigh, ) well, that is certainly concerning.
( but also... strange. Oblivion was supposed to have claimed all of their worlds — given the state of his dreams, he feels he has personal and irrevocable proof that that is the case.
but, yes. the state of things down here is indeed terrible. ) Yes. It does feel worse. ( he's just happy that the interference only seems to be affecting his abilities and not his connection to the Eye in general — if that were the case, he'd scarcely be able to string a sentence together, after a while. ) If it continues to get worse, and if we do face something more threatening up ahead... do you both feel prepared?
( ... he glances at the ground, littered with scattered and broken bones. ) If we continue onward, are you going to have enough bones to work with - or should I bring some of them along...?
( yes, he recalls the new john having mentioned there being plenty of bone around, but he also seems intent on bringing that femur along, and maybe he'd just meant the spiders? he'd watched him form the skeletons at least partially from their remains... he doesn't want to end up in an even worse situation without another creepy bodyguard... )
no subject
It gives pause for thought. Our worlds are gone in the sense that we can no longer feel our attachments to them, that we all experienced their final moments in some form or another. And yet small aspects of them do exist in rare items found in the marketplace, tangible shards of their history such as those that were presented to us at the masquerade at World's End.
At first, I had assumed that it had to do with how the power of thought and memory are more potent here than others places. Communion, pools that can reflect memories, and other such examples hinted that perhaps the worlds that lived in our hearts were not simply confined to there.
But perhaps there is even more that lies beneath the surface.
[ There was much to be learned here but also much to risk. Zhongli had attributed his weakened powers due to the distance and corruption from the geo elemental ley lines of Kenos, sealed deep as they were in this complex. If it was affecting both Johns as well however - then perhaps it was another skill of Aetós's. The mysterious figure was becoming more and more formidable with every encounter. ]
I feel more prepared than when tracking down Manon through the roots of the Tree of Life. And even dampened, the combination of John's constructs and my shields should allow for avenues of strategic retreat if it becomes necessary.
[ But he does look to John to see if he would prefer if the two of them brought along bones for him, baby magic as it was to create them from scratch. ]
I wish to continue forward.
no subject
The two of you have obviously been here a lot longer than I have, so maybe you want to give me the Cliffs Notes version on the way, huh?
[ he looks between the two of them but mostly at the Archivist because he seems like a guy who would understand that reference. ]
And this?
[ he means the bone he's holding, which he's happy to walk over and show them directly. ]
It's the bite marks that are important. [ the bone is otherwise free of damage from the fight. ] Make of that what you will. As for me, I'll manage just fine. But grab a few extras for the road if you're feeling bone-ly.
[ he's very proud of himself. ]
no subject
Well, yes, but this is a little more than a person, or an object, or a memory, isn't it? We're talking about a whole manner of - what I have to assume is some sort of magic? It's certainly unlike anything I've ever seen.
( he goes still at john's comment, and afterward he gives him a particularly withering gaze. why, yes, he does recognize the reference, thank you, but why on Earth is this guy using it? it feels just about as strange to hear from him as the Eye forcing highlights of the most recent edition of a gossip tabloid into the back of his mind. the question burns in the back of his mind long enough that he has to force away the impulse to extract an answer. )
N - No, not really, at least for me. The masquerade, that actually happened prior to my arrival here. And, actually, what do you mean by "their history" - there were shards that held something else besides a "soul"?
( it's the first he's hearing of something like that!
and as for the bones — no, if the emperor believes he will be set with what he has on hand and what might lie ahead of them, john won't go out of his way to fill his pockets with teeth and bone chips. ) ...If that's the case, I think I'll be fine without. ( just dry and acerbic enough to match the other john's self-satisfied smugness. )
no subject
So further down the hallway they continue, though Zhongli does try to answer John the Archivist's question the best he can. ]
Ah, so neither of you were at the masquerade?
[ Zhongli wasn't making much effort to identify people so it's not like he would know. ]
There was a particular kind of party game played there. People who signed up were given a fragment - something crystal-like. Perhaps shard is the incorrect word to use as that has a certain meaning here in Kenos. Regardless, once you found the owner of the fragment, it began to glow. It took a while for my partner and I to figure out exactly what to do after that, but after some exchanges we were able to see in exquisite detail a location from our respective worlds. I cannot say if it was truly housed in that fragment or simply a lens that allowed us to see beyond, but I still carry that fragment on my own world on my person for safekeeping.
no subject
[ because he assumes the necromancy issue is all the archivist was eyeballing him over. ]
All you really need is the ability to sense and manipulate the requisite energies. We're all from different places, and aside from your unique particulars, your bodies behave more or less as expected, meaning those energies are not unique to where I come from. The theorems are another matter because those are proprietary.
[ is everyone thrilled to know that john can sense all the fun little biological functions going on inside someone at any point? he does not elaborate on what he means by "unique particulars," but they can probably guess.
john takes somewhat more offence at the rest; necromancy in his world is unique to the nine houses, and God gave the nine houses the blessing of necromancy. it's a petty nitpick, and john gaius has built his whole career on being petty. ]
In any case, what you saw at the masquerade sounds similar to what an iliachtida is capable of, but it may be more specific than that; I wouldn't know.
no subject
( not that he particularly minded that he had. if one used a particularly wide and liberal definition of the word "masquerade," the last one that john had attended had ended in a C4 explosion, several tons of rubble falling onto him, and spending six months in a death-like coma. and it hadn't exactly been a lovely time prior to that, either.
he listens to zhongli's explanation, and he listens to the emperor's input as well. neither do much to alleviate a sullen mood that's fallen over him. the former just sounds like a preserved memory — isn't there a place in springstar that largely does the same thing? and as for john, well, no, he doesn't particularly enjoy the idea of him being able to "sense" any unique particular about his physical composition. he can't necessarily argue, considering fear seemed to be similarly... appetizing to him, regardless of where the one feeling it came from originally. but he feels as though his point still holds. if the theory — the knowledge — of the thing was secret in some way, how had it ended up here?
but don't mind him. he's just sulky because he has his own reasons for wanting to believe, without a shadow of a doubt, that he leaves behind everything he'd once known in Oblivion. to consider otherwise would make his position in the grand scheme of things here in kenos much more challenging, and so he instinctually attempts to discard it out of hand.
it's perhaps the most diplomatic decision he's made in this little excursion of theirs that he decides not to comment on it either way. instead, he glances to his companions and says, ) If there's nothing else of use here, we should continue on, then. ( he pauses, glancing down to the floor of the cavern, littered in bone. ) I'm not picking up on much personally, I'm afraid.
( before arriving in kenos, the pressure in his mind from the Eye's ubiquitous knowledge trying to force its way in at all times had been something he'd had to contend with almost constantly. here... he could almost pretend it didn't exist. almost. this place was just as new to the Eye as it was to him, though there were instances in which that pressure increased and john once more had to keep the door to Knowing firmly closed. here, he's almost wanting something interesting to come to mind, but... it seems nearly impossible. he can see ahead of himself, but he feels blind nonetheless — which no doubt contributes to his dour mood. )
no subject
I have to agree. It seems your mastery of bones and constructs is not too different from manipulating another element, save for the core ley lines of energy called upon and the distinct flare of which you wield your abilities.
As for any unique particulars, if you do see something interesting---
[ -- like the fact that he is a divine earth dragon in human clothing --
Something that both Johns are free to sense (since the opt-in posts are on the to-do list). Strange eyes lending themselves strange powers of insight is a universal truth to most worlds, after all. ]
I hope that you might keep such information close to you until it can provide value to you in some way. I'm afraid I cannot think of anything I have to barter for its secrecy at the moment.
[ He gives a nod to John the Emperor and a small smile at John the Archivist. Ah, perhaps tangling with the spiders had really left him in a fool mood. Hopefully, they would not run into any more of them. Or any larger and more dangerous forms of them. ]
Then further on we shall go.
[ Zhongli takes point again simply because he is used to doing so, and their previous marching orders seemed to work well enough for them the first time around. He does not cast his shield around John the Archivist this time, however, partially because it was rather ineffective against the bone spiders so a more tactical application would be preferred and also because if whatever oppressive force was limiting their abilities continued, it would be best for all of them if they conserved their strength.
They pass one or two large empty rooms, the contents of which have been mostly mangled as whatever had previously been caged in them had violently fled the premises. Furniture and equipment had been tossed carelessly this way and that in one, and another had dozens up dozens of large cages mangled and ripped open - probably where the bone spiders had been kept previously.
When they come upon the next room, however, the door is still shut and not forced open like the others. A sputtering sign sparking its last bits of electricity blinks AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY three times before going out.
Anyone care to see what is behind door #1? ]
no subject
I hope I don't give the impression that I'm the type of person who would do that sort of thing for no reason, but your secrets are safe with me.
[ no one could be blamed for doubting him when he gives off unsettling vibes even when he doesn't mean to. john does put a little intentional emphasis on for no reason though; that's his honesty in exchange, he supposes. john doesn't handle feeling betrayed very well.
he follows the others as before, giving little thought to the destruction they pass as they move further into the facility. there isn't anything there he needs or wants to see because anything more valuable isn't going to be in holding areas and break rooms anyway.
the secure door looks promising, though. nothing's escaped out of it, at least. ]
Well? It could be exciting, or it could be a janitor's closet.
no subject
but he takes zhongli's request to heart, nodding in answer. it's something he's used to. having a door which led to potentially all the information in the world in one's mind came with the distinct burdens of often having to carry secrets for others. he does the best he can with this, though sometimes it became hard to distinguish between something he had been told or learned himself or something the Eye itself had given him.
he follows after zhongli, and he is certain to check in every room that they pass, regardless of how barren and ransacked they appear to be. there isn't much of note — not until they find a door still intact, a warning prominent above it before the last of the electricity gives out and it falls into darkness. his assessment largely mirrors his companions'. )
Either there's nothing in there, or what's in there hasn't escaped yet.
( either way... he's going to take a step back, dark gaze moving between zhongli and the emperor.
it's not like the hallway is guaranteed to be safe, but it's probably best one of them opens the door and goes inside first, yes? )
no subject
[ Secrets of the self are a strange concept here to Zhongli anyway. Surely any holder of his Shard - Yima in particular - must have had some inkling as to who and what Zhongli was. Shrouded and muted as it is sometimes, glimpses of that self can also be found in Communion and in memory pools and who knows what else. So, for the most part, Zhongli thinks about the exposure of secrets here in Kenos is just a matter of when instead a matter of if. Furthermore as the God of History, preserving who they are is vital in preserving what little is left of their worlds. Is any secret worth keeping if in order to do so it prevents the wonders of a world being known? A philosophical question for another time.
John the Emperor has agreed with his terms (not as binding as Zhongli normally likes but it serves his purpose well enough), and John the Archivist - one whose powers deal in information - intrinsically understood probably better than anyone in this room the power of knowledge and how to properly handle it.
And thus those thoughts are squirreled away as Zhongli's focus returns to the door.
He gives an approving nod to John the Archivist as he backs away - the hallway from whence they come should be statistically safer than whatever lies behind this door. And weakened as they are, as long as both John the Emperor have the advantage of surprise, the combination of earth and bone should be enough to hopefully not be completely overwhelmed.
To the Emperor: ]
Then I'll force the door open. Be prepared to greet who-or-whatever may be on the other side. Even if it is only the custodian.
[ He holds his spear at an angle, ready to wedge it between the door and the frame and pry it open on their command. ]
no subject
[ if only john could be so forthcoming. it's not like being here comes with the same risks as being back in his own world — at least, not at the moment — but old habits die hard, especially when you're unmotivated to do anything about them. keeping people at a distance as much as possible is safer, right?
for now, john fishes a couple of small pieces of bone he's kept in one pocket, from which two fully formed skeleton constructs spring up once he tosses them on the floor; one to watch their backs with its eerie red eye shine and the other to add another layer of protection for the archivist. better to be proactive this time since they're not waiting around to be ambushed. ]
Whenever you're ready.
no subject
he is a little less surprised this second time the emperor raises his skeletons, and this time he also does what he can to carefully pay attention to how he does it — or, at least, what he can see under flickering halogen lights. no, they don't spring out of thin air; he watches john retrieve some tiny fragments of bone, which he drops to then form the fully-structured constructs, standing at the ready with an uncanny sort of awareness despite the unseeing sensation of their red pinprick eyes. as unsettling as they remain to be, john remains close to them, knowing the clattering protectors are his best bet for safety while zhongli and the emperor face whatever is behind their mysterious door.
which they seem prepared to breach. ...he doesn't like this. he never has. it's one thing to feel completely helpless on one's own, but to feel like he couldn't contribute when others were risking life and limb? it's a rotten sort of feeling, but there's not much he can do — it's not his place, as the Archivist, to fight.
so he breathes out a short sigh and says, with low earnestness, ) Best of luck.
no subject
The door is forced open with a truly terrible screeeeeech of metal on metal as Zhongli pries it open.
As the inside is slowly revealed, the room at first looks rather unremarkable like the rest: a metal table shoved against the wall with an assortment of tools tossed across the service, crates with bits of things that probably would make a lesser person's stomach churn if they looked at the contents a bit too long, scattered paperwork, the dim sickly yellow light of a toppled lamp pointing at the concrete ground.
Oh.
Oh that's not a lamp. That just happens to be the pulsating core of a hollowed out necrotic beast that towers over all of them. One that senses fresh prey. And one that comes barreling forward at the intruders as soon as the door bursts open, the heavy footfalls causing the ground to shake with each reverberation.
Instinctively, Zhongli tosses a shield around John the Emperor as he quickly dodges to the side. Perhaps he is underestimating the constructs, but he does not believe that they will able to stand up to something of that sheer size and speed. ... Best of luck, indeed. ]
no subject
You're probably safe as long as you don't actually go inside. [ probably. ] I can't sense a magical boundary, but the fact that I also can't sense our large friend tells me there is one, among other things.
[ he sighs in a way that seems profoundly exhausted somehow and folds his arms. the habitual rubbing of his temple comes after that. he hates when he feels blind because it's one way he's not able to be in control of a situation. ]
Well, gentlemen, how badly do you want to find out what's inside?
no subject
after the door is torn away and the interior of the room is revealed, he can't sense much of anything. the single light source only really illuminates a small portion of it, seeping the rest into deep, obfuscating shadow. usually he might have been able to pick up on something, anything, which might have given him a feeling or an inclination of what to expect, but... with how dampened both his and the Eye's abilities were in this place, there's nothing at all. but he does feel the taut sensation of fearful apprehension pulling through his stomach; it's uncertain whether it was informed by instinct or preternatural sense, but he is certain that they wouldn't be alone in there.
this becomes especially obvious when the fallen light proves that it isn't that at all, but the beating heart of a skeletal construct far larger, more complex, and seemingly more deadly than the spiders that they had encountered before. john's eyes fly wide, and he scrambles backwards a few steps until he practically falls into the waiting arms of one of the skeletal bodyguards (😳) — they ultimately aren't necessary, given the fact that the creature doesn't seem like it can leave the room. john's dark eyes flick back-and-forth between the waiting door and the emperor, who hadn't moved at all during the thing's charge. had he known, or was this a really good guess?
he... understands the other john's trepidation. if something that wouldn't waste time in trying to kill them is trapped in a room, it goes without saying that they could simply avoid that room, yes? but... )
We are trying to find answers. ( and, to tell the truth, when he considers just continuing onwards and leaving this behind... it rankles at him. it's certainly the Eye's influence that nags at the back of his mind, craving to know what was behind every locked and guarded door. ) There's no guarantee that there's something in there that might better explain what's going on, but... if we leave it be, we wouldn't know for sure.
no subject
In terms of calculated risk, this room might be safer than others we encounter.
[ Zhongli says not having any notion about necromancy or the exact abilities of this particular creature. Perhaps he will look back on this exact moment and shame himself for his hubris. Most likely not, though. Gods rarely bother themselves with feelings like shame and regret. ]
As long as we do not disturb whatever is keeping the creature contained within that space, then we are free to retreat to safety relatively quickly.
However---
[ And at this he makes a deferential nod to John the Emperor: ]
I will defer to your judgement on how dangerous the creature is since you seem to be the most familiar.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)