The Seeds of Unrest, Phase Two 🌱

[beleos]

UPROOTED

Time has not been kind thus far, and the future will be no kinder.

The slow passage of days to weeks has seen both cities increasingly ravaged by the untamed growth of the enlarging roots. Their size is enough to uproot buildings by their foundations, if not bisect them entirely where they push through unfettered. In the worst-hit areas, entire blocks are left abandoned - if even standing at all, displacing families and leaving businesses in ruins.

Cetina and Kathova have been in near constant contact with Bearers via Communion, feeding them information about which areas to focus their lifesaving efforts. Yima’s Manor and the Seat of the Tribune - despite their closeness to the Trees - have been fortified by your leaders and act as a base of operations for each respective faction. You will be able to return to either to find sanctuary from the chaos beyond, but the innumerable civilians are not so lucky.

Bearers are tasked with rescue and recovery efforts and requested to assist hands on the ground with taking refugees to temporary shelters. Survivors must be dug out of the debris. Those who are capable of healing will be enlisted to assist at hospitals and triage centers. Supplies must be gathered and harvested from areas that are collapsed and too dangerous for civilians to navigate. If you are feeling generous, you can go on search and rescue missions, as many people are considered missing in both Highstorm and Springstar. Some areas are completely cut off to regular foot traffic by the massive, winding roots bearing countless Blight-blooms. Citizens are succumbing to the Blight flower’s effects persistent from phase one with more and more frequency.

While both cities slowly succumb to a deepening catastrophe, the situation worsens.

STIRRING STORMS

As the days pass, inexplicable and unnatural weather occurrences will randomly plague both cities. They can last as long as a full day or as little as an hour before dissolving entirely.

• Flurries: this snow is tainted by the Blight, making the snowfall look like ash. Any organic matter it touches will be affected by reopening wounds, re-infection of illnesses, or re-experiencing injuries that may have healed over years ago.
• Thunderstorms: these storms carry a frigid rainfall and heavy cloud cover, making already difficult-to-navigate disaster zones harder to clear. As each thunder bellow crashes overhead, you might swear you hear a familiar voice reaching out to you in the fading rumble… one that sends a message - either from the future or past.
• Fog: dense clouds of thick, freezing fog will roll in randomly, making visibility even more precarious. In your search for survivors - or your companions, you may find yourself coming face to face with someone else, instead: a version of yourself (or a companion) from another timeline. You may also hear your own voice calling out to you from within the fog, attempting to beckon you further into the mist.
• General Note: Exposure to any of the above weather patterns will increase your Blight infection.

THE BLIGHT COMES FOR ALL

As if it were not enough to see the cities that have become your salvation at the end of the Timestream falling to collapse and ruin, the Bearers will slowly begin to realize their previous immunity to the Blight is eroding. They will begin to show symptoms of infection that increase into May’s event. ( For more information on the effects of the Blight and purification methods, please see the OOC Summary. )

Now that their last bastion - the Bearers - are just as much in harm’s way as everyone else, the populous’s efforts to formulate a temporary stop-gap solution are being rushed to completion. Time is not on anyone’s side. They will continue to work with those who have been kind enough to volunteer their resources and brilliant minds - collecting materials and attempting to figure out a way to avert their otherwise inevitable destiny.

ORDERS

Orders from your leaders will come as soon as infections among the Bearers have been confirmed.

🌙 YIMA will stress for all Zenite Bearers to prioritize their well-being and to avoid unnecessary exposure, to manage their symptoms as much as possible. They must fight for their own survival to bring in the birth of a new universe - and their lives are too precious to risk. Beyond that, she asks them to save what they can of their people and their most critical structures with the understanding that hard choices may be necessary.

🌞 CYRUS will implore all Meridian Bearers to prioritize the general population's lives and turn their efforts to save as much of Springstar as they can. He will note that Bearers have ways to help keep one another from suffering too much contagion and to coordinate their usages appropriately, to keep one another safe, and watch their backs.

ANOTHER EN-TREE-TY

The Tree of Life continues to sicken, yet - thankfully - the progression of the Blight is slow. Still, Bearers will find themselves occasionally compelled to take a moment to sit beneath its boughs and vibrant leaves, even as some begin to show signs of discoloration and rot. Any characters who sit with the Tree with the purple leaf they found on their person after phase one will find it warming to the touch, its veins laced with gold. This effect will be even more effective if taken into the cavernous roots beneath the Tree! While this may fill you with a temporary sense of calm, it doesn't seem to have any other effects... yet still, you are compelled, if not curious.

The Tree has offered you this gift for a reason. Perhaps you will find its use before long.

...As long as you - and Kenos - survive long enough to discover it.

CODING

Comments

[uproared]

[ What's she protecting Gray from? From becoming like her; so captivated by the king's majesty that she's unable to move beyond it even in death. Gray should live a life as separate from King Arthur as possible, no matter what an impossible task that might be, when she was born to become him. But then, Mordred was born for something too, and she... well, she still did exactly what her mother wanted of her, but for her own reasons.

That's what she thinks, anyway. What she says is: ]

Who knows? I don't need an excuse to kill you, just like you don't need one to kill me. So let's end this already... father.

[hauntedking]

...am I? I try to be. I cannot say I always succeed.

[ But he accepts the compliment all the same. ]

What about you, Gray? What are you trying to get back to?

[redsoil]

Oh, no. You misunderstand. Quetzalcoatl will not eradicate you by strength of arm.

[ She could, Set knows. She is a god as ancient as he, storied and empowered beyond even that which he can scent upon her, but she is like his grandmother. Ra was unstoppable, a woman who could not be turned away from her chosen path — which was why Osiris had taken the throne of the gods from her, and sat upon it himself. ( It was Osiris, correct? It was he who had curried so much favor among the humans that it had carried him to the thrones of man, and god alike? )

The green gem, Quetzalcoatl's soul, emerges from his palm and is caught up between his fingers. Displayed, so that Silco knows it has already been seized; that Set is sly, too. Swift, as well. He beams, from under the edge of his mask, as his sha finishes toying with the Shimmered corpse and slinks around Silco's knees, rubbing along them like some ethereal feline. ]

She rivals you, in strength of absolute will. I believe your desire to hate all things has found a worthy rival in her desire to love all things. I cannot wait to see your clash in the future. Which force will prove more powerful?

[ another microcosm of battle opens before him,

happy set, content war god ]

[bakedapple]

[ H......headpats. He's getting headpats.......... ]

...

[ He can't tell if he's embarrassed or a little angry at him for treating him this way. Just because he's short doesn't make him a kid, you know!! He's actually pretty close to you in age compared to most of the other Shard-Bearers, Vash!

With a nervous cough, Link starts unscrewing the top from the thermos before Vash is even done talking. He takes a very long sip from it before glance in the direction of the cutie in question. He'd have thought that he couldn't possibly be thinking about cute girls at a time like this, in the poor state and mood that he's in, but... well. Maybe it's the tethering effect of swapping blood, but he's finding himself looking with actual interest.

...she is cute. ]

Um. What about her?

[redsoil]

[ Shivering, he knows the room is delusion. A fanciful existence that he cannot shed the sentiment towards, for he intrinsically knows that even if his mind now is not aware of it, some part of his timeless existence is familiar with it; it is a place he may go, one day. Or a place where some tendril of his infinite consciousness had been, once, before bringing its wisdom back to the depths of his awareness. There is only one iteration of him, no alternate, after all.

And it does not matter, because the reality he persists in is one that seeks to slow him, to freeze him and leave him insensate and useless. It will claim Silco, too. And what a victory it would be, to rob Zenith of one of their own, one with a strong will, the danger living below Springstar itself. Someone who had already eked out power in the underworld, and could begin to twist it in his favor, the way Set was attempting to curry the same degree of favor above ground.

But, Silco asks — where. He does not have to, he could simply attack. Set could attack, but he has expended all his efforts to bring them here, to — protect, and deliver, a man who threatens his efforts and could kill him. And instead, Silco asks where. ]

Here.

[ Please, he thinks. Let them find one another better alive to one another, than defeated.

He draws back one hand, pushing hair with it. The Blight has settled cold and acrid upon him. Set reaches for the clasp behind his neck, to try and wrestle down the golden collar he wears — to expose the full length of the carmine-red Shard that sits high on his chest, resembling the injury attained when someone has their heart torn out. His fingers ache, and he has to claw at the collar's clasp, finally forced to yield with a frustrated snarl and push his fingers under it instead, to show his Shard.

There are no Tethers. This is not real, and yet. The premise would be the same. ]

Just face me, if — you do it. [ Kill him. ] Not in the back. Or I, will make you remember, what it feels like to be utterly powerless.

[ And he says it with such vehemence, that for a moment, the purity of his own hatred threatens to drag Silco's into his mad wake. ]

[cryomance]

Don't need one.

[ A quick flick of her wrists, and she pulls out the dagger she always carries around with her (don't ask me from where, I still don't know). The other hand reaches towards the small of her back, pushing what little fabric there is downwards to remove her shard, the stone appearing like a snowflake colored a light teal.

As wary as she is of parting with it, she does trust Zhongli more than she trusts a lot of people here. He's never shown himself to be cruel or duplicitous. At the same time, she takes Zhongli's stone, finding the shape of it curious enough, though now isn't the time to really ask about it. It's more important to help give Zhongli whatever relief she can. ]

Are you fine drawing your own blood, or should I do it for you?

[ He doesn't seem like the squeamish type, but maybe he's feeling too weak to give himself a steady cut. ]

[diversionist]

You walk slowly for a man with such long legs.

[ a ridiculous gripe when he knows full well that vash is carrying a burden (him) and is also trying not to hurt that burden any further (also him). but it's something to say, isn't it. neither so close to the softer emotions vash had veered them towards, nor a reminder of their current situation. his current situation. at least vash hasn't asked for any kind of explanation; he almost hurts too bad to lie. ]

[sharethememory]

[ Zhongli takes the shard reverently in both hands. This, too, was the first time he had touched another person's shard as well. How beautiful and fragile the realizations of their souls were - the core of an identity forged into a precious stone. If Zhongli was not so addled from the Blight, he might have more to feel at seeing the Tsarista's mark on yet another mortal of Tevyat. She really had been meticulous in spreading her influence across Teyvat; what a pity that she was not around to see that it was the children of the ice and snow who had shown the most tenacity and fortitude at the end of it all.

(It never once occurs to Zhongli to not trust Rosaria with his shard or that she would be wary of entrusting hers to him. Ah, the arrogance of the gods.) ]

Allow me to perform my end of the arrangement. I am not so far gone yet to handle such a task.

[ Shifting the shard to one hand, Zhongli makes a gesture in the air - geo energy coalescing at his command to form a thin sharp dagger forged from stone. It's easy enough to slash the palm holding Rosaria's shard and easier still to curl his fingers around it until the blood sleeps into its pale ridges. ]

[salvageable]

[ you really asked miru.........

And maybe it's because the light topic of their conversation compared to the backdrop of the ruins surrounding them is desperately needed, but Dokja takes another, bigger sip of his drink before making up his mind. ]

I just like stories with ordinary people who rise to the challenge... The ones that never expect to become a hero, but find that they have to.

[ The end is a bit mumbled out of embarrassment. He's truly back in his forum days with this near complete stranger. ]

[sharethememory]

[ It seems Childe has come very close to the crux of the matter as he lashes out in his frustration. It's true - Zhongli does not know what he wants. He only knows that he wants Childe to be a part of his life and not just because he is from Teyvat. That is part of the reason of course - because otherwise, they would not know each other as well as they do today. (Can anyone really come to know Zhongli if they do not know Liyue - his pride and joy and life's blood?)

If Zhongli and Childe had met here instead, of course they could have become friends as well just as Zhongli was growing fond of many of the people in Kenos. But Childe was special because he was one of the first friends that the mortal Zhongli had. And on top of that, it was so unintentional and effortless for them to fall into the gravity of each other's orbits. One business dinner became two than a dozen and then meals shared that had no bearing on business at all but just for the comfort of each's other company. But now that Zhongli is making conscious efforts to recapture that ease, he finds himself leaning heavily on how he walked the circles of the adepti - as an arbitrator, as a being both dependable and stubborn, as Morax, as Rex Lapis and so very little as Zhongli. And with war brewing in their midst and catastrophe after catastrophe affecting Highstorm and Springstar -- how much could he be Zhongli when he had thrown himself into another contract to protect the people - no matter his good intentions.

All of this probably comes over the communion like a confused jumble of thoughts and regrets, more ideas and feelings rather than words that Childe can hold on to.

Finally, after a lull in the overbearing din of his own thoughts: ]

You are important because you are Childe - a person that I have grown to be very fond of. I have not met another like you nor will I in the future. There are those that come into our lives at just the right times that they become irreplaceable. And you are such one individual for me.

[gravings]

[ For all of Gray's momentary weakness, her reserve of magical energy is still mostly full; she was only fighting an illusion after all, nothing more taxing than fighting a shadow, and she didn't actually undergo a true possession. Where she falters mentally, she can at least make up for with a bit of Strengthening, and she stands without trouble past her ponderous pace.

Gray doesn't know the answer behind King Arthur's apparent subservience to the tainted Grail. Such things were for her mentor to mutter to himself about without heed for how nutty he sounded to the people around him. ]

Human... I suppose so.

[ The people of Gray's village treated Arthur like a god, and somewhere along the way maybe Gray began to believe it a little too. Being able to experience some of that power has done little to dispel the notion, and yet Arthur was never proclaimed to be anything but a human being.

In any case, now isn't the time or place to be ruminating on the existential mores of a knight from the Dark Ages, glorious and important as that knight may be. With the adrenaline fading away, Gray remembers that the last time she spoke to Rin, she said something quite offensive to make Rin storm off. She still feels a little awkward about it, truth be told, but mostly she feels she shouldn't bother Rin anymore with her presence. Mages are a proud breed of people with little time or tolerance for the feeble, so Gray will be considerate and excuse herself. She bows a little toward Rin. ]

Thank you for your help. I think this means... I'm the one who owes you now?

[erbe]

[The rhythm his hips set is distracting. As Dark continues thrusting up between her legs Rin gradually loses focus, and his arm falls away from her lips. Tohsaka swallows nervously as the friction continues to ignite her interest. Stoking that flame she'd rather ignore again and again. She almost gets lost in it, but Dark's voice cuts through. Bringing her back to reality.

Holding back her own voice with a gulp, she lets go of Dark's arm completely. Her right hand cups over his cockhead where it peeks through on his thrusts upward. She'll catch his release in her palm. Sure, she could dismount and just have him climax in her mouth, but the heady feeling that clouds her thoughts prevents Rin from even considering that. Instead she lets him continue to bounce her in his lap as she tries to pretend not to be teased by it all.

It's very poorly hidden, though. Her breaths come out in little pants. Her cheeks flushed with heat and color. Her eyes hazy. Like the ocean obscured by fog.]

Just... hah, whenever—

[erbe]

[A bow? Is she trying to get rid of her?

Forcefully Tohsaka hooks her arm around Gray's — linking them tightly.]

Not until I get you back to your place safely.

[After all how would her pride allow anything less? What Gray does after Tohsaka makes sure she's safe is beyond Rin, though.]

[sharethememory]

[ Purification is not an unknown process to Zhongli, though when dealing with karma from his home world, the burden could never be shared between individuals. It's comforting in a way to know that it is here even if that could potential come with another host of problems. But that all seems secondary as the cold grasp of the Blight loosens its talons in him.

In return across the bond comes gratitude and appreciation, for though Zhongli is confident that he could have managed somehow to return home to rest, this made things so much simpler. There's also an optimism from Vash that flows through Zhongli, gaining strength before it is ultimately returned.

The future always did belong to those who were willing to fight for it.

And now revitalized, Zhongli easily slips into storyteller mode, happy to help fill the gaps of the times before Vash arrived in Kenos: ]

Ah yes, the information was disjointed so I'm not certain that I am painting an accurate portrayal, but it is where we were sent to uncover the first Oracle. The whole island, castle, and it inhabitants were frozen but not in ice, but rather in time. I am not completely certain if it was the direct result of a time mage who had recently arrived there, but surely that was a compounding factor. The only creatures unaffected were an otter named Mr. Tibbs and a talented performer who managed to sequester herself away deep in the castle.

[vapour]

[ Childe still can't fully understand because so many doubts and questions swarm his own mind, but he seems to get the gist enough that he feels there's no point lashing out, further (or perhaps the ritual itself makes him more docile.) Instead, he focuses on completing the cleanse, only asking one question in the process even as he avoids eye contact with Zhongli. ]

...And how can I be a part of your life if all you do is run off and try to protect me from afar when I don't agree with what you're doing?

[youngprodigy]

Assuming there's anything that can be rebuilt, certainly.

[He's not optimistic.]

I suppose I shall speak with her once the situation has calmed.

[sharethememory]

[ While Zhongli is truly grateful that he can feel the lingering effects of the cold and Blight start to bleed out of him, that just means he has more energy to spend on being fussy and frustrated. And if they are to exchange words, here and now of all times, perhaps...

Perhaps he should not hold back.

Perhaps he is too tired to hold back. ]

Is that not a slightly unfair accusation? You welcomed me into your home when I arrived at Kenos, and this is where I belong above all others. This is where I return to, always.

The Blight is an extreme and unfortunate circumstance. Promised oath to the Tribune notwithstanding, what life will we both have if it manages to take either city?

[vapour]

[ unfortunately for Childe, taking in the Blight leaves him with less energy. Still, he ends up focusing hard on the fact that Zhongli is still talking about the oath to the Tribune. Is it not the Blight Infection, then? What's wrong with him if it's not the Blight? Should Childe be more concerned or less.

He'll take the majority or all of the Blight from Zhongli, not particularly concerned since he has no issue dumping it all on some random person that's already dying anyway (... Or even not dying yet, whatever,) but temporarily taking on the burden makes it harder for him to clearly think this through. It makes him no less frustrated, though.

(Maybe it's just too much for Childe to wrap his mind around.)

He needs to get away from Zhongli or the other will end up reinfected. ]

I don't care about either city. [ he hisses out stubbornly. He doesn't need a city or anything of the sort. He just needs— without a word further, he'll take both hands as soon as they are free from the ritual to grab at the front of Zhongli's jacket and yank him close so that Childe can press his lips to Zhongli's in a kiss that includes teeth and tongue. He won't subject the other to it long, intending to break the kiss off and step away from the other in one fluid motion that has the harbinger bringing a hand over his own mouth, somewhat confused what his intentions were in doing that just now.

It's probably not worth trying to think about. If Zhongli is still delirious enough that he thinks that he's supposed to be in Meridian, well... Childe will have plenty of time to mull it over on the way. His voice is much lower in volume and with less vitrol. ]

... Forget I said anything. [ he doesn't like that he's being pushed back against and having to acknowledge that even if Zhongli still really doesn't understand him, he's not doing much better at understanding Zhongli. Unfortunately for the other, Childe doesn't really want to understand because that's too risky. Maybe trying to be understood is just as much a bad idea, in the end. Dropping the argument might be the best option. ]

Let's go. It'll take a bit for the Blight to build up again so it's best to make the journey now.

[ maybe on the way he can think of a way to knock sense into the other?? ]

[sharethememory]

[ Unfortunately for Childe, Zhongli does not want to drop the argument. He does not want to forget anything that was said. In fact, with this being the closest that he's even gotten to scratching the surface of what is going on between them, not acknowledging any of this is the last thing that Zhongli wants to do. He wants to listen to Childe really listen even if he has to do it through a dozen filters that allows Childe to keep his pride and dignity and invulnerability and whatever else he is trying to protect.

(It's a pattern. It has to be a pattern. How Childe curled onto his bed when he was upset about Manon. How he crawled into his lap after they had dispelled the discord together. And now a kiss as they were prying at each other's cracked seams trying and failing to understand each other.)

Zhongli does not let Childe step too far back from the kiss. When the Harbinger pulls away, Zhongli chases, gripping him by the sides of his face to pull him into another. It's short, like the one Childe initiated. Equally messy and poorly executed as Zhongli also isn't sure what he's trying to convey except that he will rise to Childe's challenge. And when Zhongli pulls away, he keeps Childe there - looking at him and no one else and nothing else.

No more excuses. And no more distractions. ]

No. I will not forget.

And neither of us are going to Springstar this night.

[vapour]

[ Childe is clearly caught off guard by the response— the kiss and the words that follow. He's used to getting his way when he scoffs and dismisses someone in a huff and walks away. Harbinger aren't so invested in each other to chase after each other to continue arguments no matter how much they may want the last word in.

There's so many things that deserve asking and thinking about: (we're not going?) (you won't forget?)

Unfortunately the one that has preoccupied Childe the most right now is the kiss. he takes it as nothing more than Zhongli giving back what he's given, and that sort of stubbornness being displayed right now is a lot more intriguing a place to put his mind than in their conversation (especially one Zhongli had decided he won't concede in.)

A gentle chuckle escapes him after the initial surprise wears off. He won't pull away, but that may be the preferable alternative to what he does, which is just go crowd Zhongli back up against the wall again. Forget it, he can just pull the infection from Zhongli again afterwards since it's unlikely the other isn't going to catch it again if they're staying unless they completely avoid each other. That had been more or less Childe's plan, but Zhongli has of his fit down, so surely he wants just the opposite (actually, Childe doesn't believe this for a second which is why he engages. If he sincerely thought Zhongli was welcoming of Childe being all in his space and grossly affectionate he would backpedal so fast he'd trip over himself.) ]

No? What are we doing, then? [ he asks in that typical lower-volume drawled out way that gives an impressioned danger behind what he's saying and even more what he's thinking. although he won't pull away from Zhongli's hold he will go to lean in closer and kiss him on the mouth again if he's not stopped.

(It's sad really, that Childe sees Zhongli attempting to rise to his challenge as Zhongli being clearly confused and needing to be spooked back to his senses. Perhaps it's even worse that his idea of his to do this is being physically intimate. There is a difference to be felt, too, the way Childe had clung so desperately to Zhongli in his lap like a frightened animal cowering in the corner. This is not so sincere emotionally, or at least, not something that he's letting his vulnerability show so readily. Despite that, if Zhongli doesn't push him away the kiss this time isn't as much teeth this time although the's plenty of tongue, because so what if he's convinced Zhongli is going to back down, why can't he get a taste of the other like he's wanted to while he's at it? Even if he can't fully understand his feelings for Zhongli, he knows he's physically attracted to the other (or their aspects have made him so here if he wasn't before, at the very least.)

... Still he's not doing it for that opportunity, it's just a convenient benefit. This is absolutely to get Zhongli to think twice before playing this game with him. Even if he was.... doing it for the chance, there's no way he could admit that to himself. ]

[lifespanned]

But... but it does make a difference, you stupid idiot.

[ She says, harshly as she can through her chattering teeth. Her glare is real, feeling her temper flare hotter at the way he tries to side-step the issue, and the quiet resignation with which he speaks of the being with the Meridian. And for a few moments, she genuinely considers refusing to do the ritual at all — it wouldn't be the first time (nor the last) that she felt the need to be dramatic and stubborn enough to get her point across, even if it meant bodily harm would come to her.

But what can she do? Gen is a Meridian. She can't die in front of him — what if one of his allies sees them? Would he still be on her side then? She hates even entertaining such a doubt, but she feels backed into doing so, given the avoidant way he's talking about this.

So, instead, she stubbornly drags her blade against the back of her palm, holding out her hand just barely far enough for the blood to drip against his shard. ]

Even if you're not doing anything for them, you're still over there. What about when Zenites see you as an enemy for being on that side? That's a huge difference! So why are you acting like this isn't a big deal?

[zauneyete]

[ Silco does not jump back from the Sha, though he looked down at it with the same ire he had for his own pet, Trencher, who sometimes did that as if it were seeking affection from a petulant child, though Silco occasionally pat the creature's head, the Sha gets none of that. He only spared one glance for the now dead shimmered, a shame that he was dead, but -- that was his fate the moment Silco touched his fingers to him.

Most were fodder for him, to be used. They would all end up dead anyway, when it came down to it. When this resolved in the end, they would all die. Might as well use them for his purposes now. ]

Mine, obviously.

[ He said, though he did not truly know. Even he felt trepidation at blowing in the nose of a god, even if he thought that she could not truly be too godlike, if she had fallen to the Blight so easily. ]

Perhaps we'll pit them against one another a few times, until the end. I'm sure you'll be delighted.

[zauneyete]

[ Similar to how Silco hides his own shard, Set's is hidden behind the gold and plating, all the jewelry that he's come to associate with the war god. There are no tethers, only their shards. There's nothing for him to touch other than their shards, and Silco knows that he could force all of his blight into Set, and create an enemy of another god in this month. He could truly do it again, and again, and create enemies of them all.

He should. He could not trust Set, not truly. Hadn't Set murdered his own brother by drowning him in the river? Doesn't that make his breath quicken and his throat bob? Doesn't that make him worry that he'll be betrayed, just as surely, by this god?

Then why, instead of taking the shard yet, does he efficiently, carefully undo the cloth at his throat, and tug it to the side? He does not trust Set -- Cannot, because there's only one person Silco trusts, and she's only a gemstone in his quarters in Highstorm, carefully alarmed and kept safe -- but he finds that Set is...

There is a connection there, between them. They have a pact, of sorts, and Silco wonders if it is because he is truly similar to Set so much that he would allow the god to see where his shard is, something that even Sebastian hasn't seen?

With the cloth moved to the side, and undid the first few buttons of his shirt, not enough to expose, but enough for Silco to slip his fingers beneath the folds, and pull out his own shard, where it rested, hidden at his collarbone. Precious, kept safely away. Silco rarely showed more skin than his head -- save for occasionally his hands -- and his throat worked as he pulled it out, and then he pulled a knife from a small sewn-in holster at his belt. The one Sebastian had made for him -- with the writing on it that said: “Che la mia ferita sia mortale”—”May the wound I bring be fatal.” emblazoned on the hilt. He flicked it against a finger, and drew a small well of blood, before he offered it to Set. ]

Here. We will do it together.

[gravings]

[ Gray's body is frustratingly unresponsive as he grabs her arm and turns her around. She no longer has the strength to control her spin, and it's all she can do to fall to one knee instead of collapsing entirely, her back bowing in an attempt to keep her arm from popping out of its socket.

It's been a long time since she's felt so powerless in a fight. Her spirit is willing, but her mind and body were already on their way to shutting down before Silco arrived. She feels so cold that she expects her breath to frost as it leaves heavily from her lips, for her arm to snap like ice as it bends under Silco's grip. It would be easy to give in to the chill, curl up, and surrender consciousness...

But Gray doesn't want to die. Not like this. She would sooner break off all of her limbs than lie down. If Silco doesn't take prompt advantage of his position, then Gray will rock backward into him in an attempt to knock him down with her meager weight, heedless of what damage may be done or what she could actually manage to do in the aftermath. Maybe she wouldn't be able to do a thing. She's devolved into a simple animal state, a cornered mouse thinking it might have a chance clawing at a cat's eyes. ]

[bakedapple]

[ To that, Link shrugs. He hadn't expected getting paid for any of it, much less for sitting around and watching. More significantly, he hasn't been told to get lost, so if it's all the same to this guy, being able to watch is sufficient payment.

Of particular interest is that arm of his. When he first saw it, he assumed it to be a lifeless prosthetic, but now that it's free, Link can see that he's actually moving it like a real arm. How does that work. Magic, maybe? Or was this something he brought from his own world?

The first punch had made him jump in surprise, but as the stranger readies the another, Link is prepared. He stares with keen interest and wonders if he has more prosthetics submerged in the earth, out of view. ]