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

[baltimores]

[ There's the sensation of another nod from him before the connection cuts, Amos more focused on getting ready. On actually heading out. Their immediate plans are sorted out, they both know what they're doing; there's no need to keep talking about nothing.

It does indeed take him just a few minutes to arrive, bundled up in a massive coat, thick gloves, boots, everything. It helps him keep some of the cold out — only some, because it's not like there's a ton that he can do about the chill coming from within him — but it's good. Better than he'd be otherwise.

But... oh. She's young. And tiny. And dressed up far too unnecessarily, but he figures that's probably just a side effect of living with Sebastian. Probably coming from the same world as Sebastian. Whatever. Point is, she wants to help, and judging by the way she doesn't seem to be able to stand on her own — whether that's due to the Blight or something else — she needs help in order to help, which, alright, that's where he comes in. ]

Hey.

[ In contrast to her prim and proper air, Amos really is... just a guy. Blue collar, with no real time for formalities, so his voice is as plain as ever (maybe a bit softer, inadvertently, because... she really is just a kid). He comes to a stop before her, looking down. ]

So, how do you want to do this? Carry you in my arms, on my shoulder, something else? [ A beat. ] I can take your bag too. Won't be an issue.

[grunehexin]

Greetings in person, Amos Burton.

[The difference in status could likely not be plainer. The child conducts herself not just like an adult, but like a lord, one who is used to formality and certain considerations. Sebastian had taught her that here, the people did not stick to the more ritualistic way in which she herself had been raised, and she has learned since his tutelage of more casual forms of address.

Which might be why she pulls one hand from the doorframe to stick out at the man who has arrived as if in offer for a shake. Her hand is small and pale, soft… but not without a little burn scar here, a smudge of ink there. Most damningly… her shard is embedded in the back of her hand in the form of a pear-shaped emerald, so perfectly vulnerable and easy to take or break. And at closer inspection… she looks tired. Despite being washed and gussied, there are bags under her eyes and signs of strain in her frame that suggest this young lady (as she sees it) has been hard at work for some time now.

But with healing there is rarely time to dally.]

You are as strapping as my manservant was, so I trust you could carry me in the crook of an arm… ? Your shoulder would also do.

[AKA any position where she would be able to “sit” and perch to make it look a bit less like a handicapped child being carried about and a little more like a dignified choice.

The satchel… yes, she’ll need him to carry that, too.]

[baltimores]

[ He does raise his eyebrows slightly at the use of his full name, but yeah, sure, he can shake her hand when it's offered to him. Although his brows climb ever so slightly higher when she offers her sharded hand to him, and oh. That's naive at best, a little surge of worry going through him as he lets go. She's exhausted, probably weak, making mistakes like this...

He's glad she called him. She needs a new manservant apparently? Yeah, if it just means chauffering her and looking out for her or something he can do that, easy. ]

Crook of the arm it is. Let me know if you get uncomfortable at any point; we can change it up if you need to.

[ He holds his arm out to her, looking for the easiest possible way to get her perched on it; goes to pick up her bag with his free hand as well. Here he's strong enough that this'll be plenty easy for him; hell, for the whole journey, really. ]

You all set? [ Because if she is, comfortable and warm and safe in his hold, then he can close the door behind her, set off. ] Main hospital, right? Probably about a fifteen or twenty minutes' walk for us, give or take how fucked the roads are.

[ No her age does not matter; the roads are fucked.

A beat, because he's concerned about her it'd make sense to make conversation along the way. ]

What sort of healing do you do?

[ And of course he'd noticed the state of her hand. Whatever it is, it's probably not something he's familiar with, so might as well ask. ]

[grunehexin]

My thanks.

[She'd never needed to thank Wolfram, or any of her handmaidens... but Sebastian's lectures about getting along with people from the Outside World were strict, and they stuck in her head. Even tired, she remembered that these sort of people require gratitude. After all, they were not bound to her title or her land holdings.

So when he bends down and offers his arm, she awkwardly clambers into place in the crook of his elbow, "sitting" in place and bracing herself with one hand on his shoulder, small fingers curled tightly in the back of his coat. She seems comfortable with the position, at least, like she's used to traveling that way, with her misshapen feet barely visible beneath the lacy edge of her gown.]

The main hospital, yes. Let us be off quickly.

[If she's surprised by his language, she certainly doesn't seem to be. It's coarse, but she can not expect formal speech from a man just because Sebastian recommended them. He had rather... eclectic friends. Something she wouldn't have expected until he told her what he was. Now... she supposed it made sense. This man looks human enough, but who knew. At least she seems amenable to conversation?]

I rely primarily on magical potions of my own make when I work... though I have recently come into some magic of the Zenith persuasion. And of course, I am schooled on traditional medicines and methods for treating injuries as well.

[He'd said he was capable as well... so she casts him a curious look from her new, rather close perch.]

And yourself... ?

[baltimores]

[ Hell, he doesn't even need thanks, but he's not gonna shun it or anything.

With her tucked safely against him and her bag in his free hand he's able to maintain a comfortable pace, knowing he's gonna keep both of them right there, on his person like this. It's a little more awkward than what he'd normally be used to, but it works for her, so it works for him.

Amos blinks down at her as she starts to answer; looks back up at the road ahead of them, because he really does need to watch where he's going. ]

Just Zenith for me. No magical potions where I was from, but I could stitch people up just fine. 'cept I don't need that anymore now that I can magically do it, so. [ There's a half-shrug from his free shoulder so he doesn't disrupt her. ] Just Zenith.

[ A beat as he ambles his way down the road, having to step around, over a massive root jutting up that absolutely shouldn't be there. Ugh. Fucking things, and it is slowing him down a little, but they're still making decent time, considering.

But they aren't there yet. So, with another look back down at her once the path straightens out past that root, ] Can I give you a piece of advice? Y'might want to wear gloves. Or at least hold out your other hand for handshakes. Not saying anyone's gonna take advantage of it, but your shard ended up in a vulnerable spot, so might want to keep it a bit more hidden. Just in case.

[ It's just... basic safety, really. She should have it. ]

[grunehexin]

[Though Sieglinde considers telling him that magic was rare enough in her own world that most people likely didn’t know it still existed, as if to say “you never know, your world might have magic”… he imparts his advice, instead, and that…

It is something she has considered more than once since her arrival. She is silent for a moment, her fingers tight in his coat. Her expression is… hard to define. Certainly far more thoughtful than a girl of her age was likely to be expected capable of.]

I found normal gloves to be unwieldy. I cannot imagine being able to treat a patient wearing them.

[Perhaps there are other types of gloves available that she is not familiar with? This was a land of many from countless worlds, after all. She won’t discount that. But-]

Since I gave up the use of my legs and assumed the mantle of Green Witch, I have been… vulnerable.

[Even if she were scared, even if she was being threatened… she cannot run. What would be the point? Even discounting her youth and weak body…]

If someone wished to kill me, I imagine it would be very easy, whether they know where my shard is or not.

[And the death of the shard was supposed to be the only permanent death here, but once the body was gone… the shard was still vulnerable, it would still be easy to search her corpse for it or wait for the body to dissolve. It just all seemed…]

[baltimores]

[ Oh. Oh, that's what's going on with her feet; that's why she needs an escort or a manservant or a taxi or whatever. Seems like a really fucked choice to impose on a kid, actually — she gave them up herself implies she had a choice, but considering the magnitude of consequence and her age, did she really? No wonder she seems like she's grown up too fast — but that's neither here nor there, so the thought has to be relegated to the back of his mind. In the here and now, they are en route to help people; in the here and now, she is also vulnerable.

He glances down at her before returning his eyes to the road, hospital now within sight on the horizon. ]

Yeah, probably. [ He swallows, discomfort probably evident in his voice. It's gone when he continues. ] I mean, there'll be ways to defend yourself. Magic that can shield you, ranged attacks... You're in a tougher spot than most, but you can still keep yourself safe. Just gives you another layer of safety is all, if you don't inadvertently hold your shard out to people like that.

[ It just seemed kinda... Shit, if his shard was on his hand he wouldn't be doing it, and he can fight back pretty easily.

He steps over another out of place root, the hospital growing bigger in their lines of sight the faster they approach it. ]

We can go gloves shopping when this is all over, if you want. Most people wore them where I'm from when treating people. Might find something you like, anyway.

cw: foot binding

[grunehexin]

[He glances down, and for an instant, she almost tries to hide her feet beneath the hem of her dress. "Giving up her legs" was a euphemism at its best. The tiny heeled shoes she wears are a mere three or so inches long, and the shape of the foot jammed into them is obscenely wrong, the arch snapped and shoved upwards, the toes folded under to form a sharper point, the heel pulled inward. There was surely no way it could have been done without great pain, and what child would ask to have her feet broken? To live her live mincing about, incapable of running, playing...

Sieglinde Sullivan apparently had. So she won't hide her feet. They were the proof of the great duty she had inherited, the work she had been entrusted with. She should be proud of them. (But sometimes-)]

Sebastian taught me that people of the Outside World preferred handshakes as greetings, but perhaps now... I will have to take your advice and risk being seen as ill-mannered instead.

[A beat later, she thinks to add,]

I did ask that raven fellow to instruct me in the shield spell. I have never practiced such overt magic, but... if I am lucky, perhaps there will be little cause to use it.

[She did not plan to take a position on the front lines if a battle were to erupt... The only thing she feared more than failure in her duty was becoming a hindrance, and if she could simply support Zenith's cause from the background... Yet she had already been unlucky, with her shard, and so perhaps the time for relying on luck had already long passed. The hospital is closer now, her gaze settles on it with resolve... but she is distracted just a bit by the idea of shopping (which she misinterprets a little bit, as only a child from a remote village could).]

- there are places full of gloves we could visit? An entire shop for them?

[baltimores]

[ The thing is he's pretty sure whoever did that to her, to her feet, is already dead, so there won't be any making sure they can't do it to anyone else again. Any role he could have possibly had there is over before it could begin; now all there is is making sure she stays safe for as long as they inhabit the same world. Until she grows up, is better able to see to her needs — and maybe even then.

Not like Amos hasn't known anyone disabled before. Mobility's a new one for him, but. Either way. His worries are somewhat eased at knowing that she at least knows how to shield herself; it's just less the whole... potentially inviting unnecessary danger on herself by being so upfront about where her shard is thing.

The rest of the road ahead is clear, the hospital mercifully untouched from this side. It gives him the opportunity to look at her again — no smile on his face, but a muted sort of fondness anyway. A warmth, because she's a kid, because it really shows in her voice at that last question, and because he wants this for her. ]

Sometimes, yeah. Springstar's got more selection, but they're probably a lot cheaper and more prone to falling apart. Here there'll probably be a stall in the markets that'll have some good ones. Or if not, there'll be someone we could commission to make a pair for you. [ Well, technically, it should probably be Sebastian doing any commissioning, but... yeah he's simple enough when it comes to child welfare that Amos would pay out of his own pocket if she needed him to. ] It's not like you gotta cut out handshakes altogether if you don't want to. You could just use your other hand. Or wait until you got gloves.

[ A beat, as they come up to the hospital's entrance; the calm outside before the storm that's surely waiting for them inside. ]

I just don't want to see you get hurt is all.

[ It really is that simple. ]