kenoslogs | The Seeds of Unrest, Phase Two 🌱

Entry tags:

The Seeds of Unrest, Phase Two 🌱

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[After five years of war, Claude has seen his fair share of destruction, and the state parts of Springstar have fallen into compare to some of the devastation he's seen after such battles. Garreg Mach, Merceus, Enbarr. And in many of those cases as now, the cause is a supernatural force he still feels he barely understands. Could he have done more to help stop the Blight before it became this severe...?

But there's no use in hand-wringing over possibilities. Then as now, he's learned it's better to take action in a crisis and leave the thinking for later. Claude's doing his best to help with clearing rubble, carrying survivors, patching up wounds as best he can before taking the injured parties to safety. Much like in the war, the harrowing scenes he sees, too, are things he will have to push to the back of his mind for later.

Even Heliopolis hasn't escaped unscathed, though at least the communion from Cyrus indicates their leader is still alive, even if the Seat of the Tribune itself took damage. Around this area at least, Claude's leaving the heftier work to the military, heading to a collapsed block of housing to see in what ways he can assist, bringing water and some supplies he's been able to scavenge to help the wounded.

It's around that time he spots a certain jinba ahead, and he has to clumsily climb over a fallen marble column to reach her as he calls.]

Hayame! You okay? [He's relieved she's safe, at least.]

[The damage that travels through Springstar at the speed of traveling, Blight-infected roots seems almost like an earthquake in slow motion. Buildings collapse and crumble, streets crack and break between the cobblestones… she has heard tale of such natural disasters before, but Hayame had never seen one herself.

She hadn’t even meant to see this one. The occupation of Alenroux was her foremost concern, particularly supporting the archers she herself had helped to train, and yet she had been needed to report on progress in Heliopolis… so she has come. Since she has, she has been commanded to help with the rescue efforts. And since she had been commanded… she does. Her powerful frame is of good use dislodging rubble and shoring up tunnels. If she would allow herself to be harnessed, she could be of even more help…

But she won’t. She won’t allow herself to perform the actions of a common plow horse.

Sweat lathers her flanks and her dun coat is covered with pale plaster dust at the current site she was assisting, both chests heaving after lifting a series of heavy beams from where they had fallen. Now it was up to more small and limber helpers to ferret out the person trapped beneath and Hayame… rests a moment, her temple pressed against a broken stone wall as her eyes drift shut…

Someone is calling her name.

It takes her too long to notice, but she eventually opens her eyes and finds… him. Of course.]

I am fine.

[Nevermind the somewhat hollow look in her eyes, the tremble of exertion in her body, the stiff way she holds one of her arms, or the bruises forming along one side.]

Did you think I would be otherwise?

I think not many people would survive a building falling on them.

[Dimitri or Byleth, maybe, but those two are in a league of their own. Maybe a god like Set, too. Other than them, though, it's unlikely.

But he's not here to pick an argument, instead reaching into his supply pack and offering her a flask of water.]

Here, you can keep this. Is there anyone else trapped here? [He watches as the group carefully lift out the survivor, bloodied and plaster-caked but very much still breathing, thankfully.]

[Hayame lets out a low breath that is maybe supposed to be a scoff.]

My stable was overtaken by the roots two days ago. There is nothing left to fall upon me.

[Though she might have refused the offer as pity, in different circumstances... Claude was an ally. ... And she was thirsty. Hayame takes the flask with a small nod, her motion stiff.]

- Not that I know of. The rest have been taken to healers.

[There's something wrong with her fingers. Trying to unscrew the lid of the flask takes too much effort. But she gets it done with only a single audible grunt of frustration, refusing to think of what it might mean.

She takes a drink instead.]

[Claude's distracted by watching the rescue at first, but he soon realises Hayame's difficulty in a task as simple as opening a flask. Between that and how roughed up she looks, it's more cause for concern, but he knows better by now than to outright say as much.]

Good. Will you wait here a sec?

[He goes to talk to the rescue party, distributing water and fresh bandages to clean and dress the wounds of the last of the injured before they're stretched off to a healer. Once they're prepared to leave, he waves them off, then returns to Hayame.]

I dunno about you, but I'm ready to take a break.

[He doesn't give her much of a choice. He asks for his second and then goes, and she... She could leave. She could. But something (his request, her injuries, the strange stiffness) keeps her there. Drinking.

She is still there when he returns.

There is water spilled upon the ground.]

I am already taking a break.

[Which theoretically means he is perfectly able to choose to do the same in her general vicinity.

He's also welcome to share the water. She tries to hand the flask back.]

- My thanks.

Edited 2023-04-27 15:33 (UTC)

[Maybe it was just a hunch, but he figured she wouldn't go anywhere, so he's not surprised when he turns around and she hasn't ditched him. He smiles when she offers the flask back.]

You're welcome, but you can keep it. I still have more. [He pats his supply pack. It hasn't escaped his notice that she spilled some of it, though, glancing down to the wet ground near his boot.] Are you sure you're okay? Did you-- maybe injure your hands lifting stuff?

[Hand injuries could prove serious for an archer, especially if a conflict broke out in Alenroux or anywhere else.]

[… Fine, she will keep it. It has a little strap suitable enough for her to tie to the “belt” around the fur she wears wrapped around her waist, but when it comes to the actual tying…

She will hold it.

But there is a moment when he asks and she looks down at her hand and knows that something is wrong. Her fingers are cold, no matter how many times she curls her fist to encourage the blood to flow. The bones are stiff.]

- I have simply overused it, perhaps. Digging through the rubble.

Nothing rest will not fix.

[Whenever the weary got that.]

Let's go, then. We're not going to get much rest hanging out in a disaster zone.

[He turns to get his bearings; it's all a little confusing, now that familiar landmarks and walkways have been reduced to messes of rubble and dust, and he likes to think he has a good sense of direction. But if he had to guess--]

I think my place is... that way? It's still standing, which is the important thing. [Which is more than he can say for Hayame's stable.]

[... Oh. He meant a far more extended sort of rest than she had been proposing be taken. There is a large difference in simply moving to a less destroyed area of street to recline and going to someone's home. In all her time here in Springstar... perhaps it is not surprising she has only been invited into one other Meridian's living quarters.

But he says it so easily, and if she makes a deal of it...

There is a moment where it seems she will refuse. When she looks reluctant. But in the end...]

... Very well. I humbly accept your hospitality.

[She will follow him, and hope he took into account the differences between them.]

[Perhaps she might be surprised to know he's only visited one other Meridian's lodgings himself, but perhaps that's simply another thing they have in common. Claude can be just as guilty of keeping his distance from people, as amicable as he likes to seem.]

Just don't expect anything fancy, okay?

[Sure enough, they arrive without incident to his apartment. Fortunately for Hayame, it's a ground floor building so she can enter with relative ease; doubly fortunately, he's managed to keep his apartment tidy ever since a certain living doll's stay, perhaps out of respect for her. The lounge seems to be used more like a study: shelves are stacked with all manner of books, there's a writing desk in one corner with a quill and inkwell, some empty vials, and an unmarked locked box, a collection of what looks like dried herbs, with some notes scrawled next to it in Almyran script.

Aside from all that jumble belonging to a busy mind, however, the place is sparsely decorated and kept mostly the same as when he was first given his lodgings. He didn't intend to get especially comfortable here for the long haul -- and now, if things keep going the way they are with the city falling apart, this place might not stand for much longer anyway.]

Here we are. [He says wearily, leading her into the apartment.] Do you drink tea? I'll make us some.

[(She would be surprised. He smiles so much. People must like him. They must invite him to their homes. He must know how to conduct himself there.)]

I shall temper my expectations.

[She is silent when she follows, and she hopes that it seems to be just because she is a silent woman. Instead, the farther she goes away from the adrenaline and need to focus... the more it sinks in. How exhausted she is. How much pain she is in. How stiff some of her limbs have become. It takes most of her effort not to limp.

Thankfully, he's on the ground floor. She gives his dwelling a cautionary look, the same as she would check any place for potential traps or enemies, but... it's just an apartment. She wants to lay down, but she won't before her host. Instead, she finds a way to try and pretend she isn't leaning some of her weight against the wall.]

- I will take a cup.

[...]

Thank you.

Or maybe giving you a hot drink is a bad idea right now, come to think of it.

[He's half way to the kitchen space when he remembers, and thinks better of it. She hadn't even been able to drink from a flask without spilling it, and she'd be too proud to correct him on the matter.

He turns to regard her instead. She, in short, looks awful.]

You said you might've overused your hands, right? Can I take a look?

[Hayame almost protests on instinct, but the moment passes when she is reminded of her situation. Honestly, she had hoped that it would have simply passed by the time they reached his residence, but when she tries to curl her fingers behind a lower equine shoulder... they are still stiff. Slightly cold. Or perhaps just numb.

She did not wish to think what that might mean. But of course, he wants to look.]

... I did not know you were a healer.

[Defensive, she cannot help but stall.

But it's not a "no".]

I'm not. I know a bit about medicine, but that's about it.

[And it's more like dabbling in herbal remedies and antidotes. Still he takes a step toward her and offers out his hand.]

Please? I'm sure it's not the only thing bothering you. If I can help even a little, I want to.

[... She did smell something like herbs in the place. It isn't enough to make her confident, but at the same time... maybe she was simply overthinking things. Perhaps he would tell her she had torn something. Maybe he did know.

But the point remained that she was in his house. He asked respectfully enough.]

... Very well.

[He will recognize the expression on her face from that night spent in her stall. The mix of embarrassment and shame in her weakness that surfaced every time in a woman unaccustomed to touch that didn't come with rebuke or pain.

She offers her hand toward his, an inch of space between. Close enough for him to close the distance and touch, she just... can't bring herself to put it directly in his hand.]

[Claude, on the other hand, has no qualms about taking her hand in his, as usual deciding the best way to deal with her shame is to treat this contact as if it's a perfectly normal thing to do-- though he's immediately startled.]

Your hand's really cold. No wonder you were struggling. [He puts his other hand over hers as if to try to warm it up a little, but he's reminded of when their body temperatures ran unnaturally low after the Oracle defeat a few months prior. Perhaps this is similar.] Do you have any other symptoms? Fatigue, maybe...?

[Hayame is strong. It seems unlikely she'd exhaust herself just from hard work at rescuing alone.]

[So it wasn't just her imagination. Her gaze had already been looking for an excuse to flee once he took her hand, but once the other comes to cover it, more like a proper hold, she cannot fight it anymore. She looks away. As if the contents of his desk required looking at. (As if it didn't feel good, the warmth his palms offered.)]

... Fatigue, yes. Stiffness.

[Surely it was just that- that strange malaise that had settled over all of them after the Scorching Isles. Something that could be blamed on Zenith.]

But I have been working since yesterday.

[He sighs, sceptical, even as she avoids his gaze.] I don't know if overwork would do this to you. This is just a guess, but you don't think it might be the Blight? Cyrus did warn this could happen.

[But he also said there were ways to mitigate it, worrying as it is. Maybe part of her has already realised it, but as ever, was too reluctant to ask for help...?]

If it might be the Blight, then release me. You will taint yourself in turn.

[She has seen people afflicted by it in her efforts. Though she swears she had taken precaution not to touch those who were obviously suffering directly... perhaps that had not been enough.

But though a part of her might suspect... the more stubborn part of her refused.]

Jinba do not sicken when humans do. It is not supposed to happen.

So you say, but I don't think the Blight distinguishes between humans and not. Plenty of people in Springstar aren't human... The thing that seemed to give us resistance is our Shards.

[He doesn't let go of her hand; he offered to help her, and he's not about to suddenly reject her and kick her out just to avoid getting infected himself.]

How about I help purify you? If you're just tired, I figure nothing will happen, so it's worth a shot.

[The gods damned shards. Of course. It always came back to the shard she'd never asked for or wanted to be a part of her being.

... But he does not release her.]

If you purify me, you will take some of the taint into you.

[She had heard talk about it, despite how little she interacted with her fellows.]

You offered me a place to rest, not that.

[If it is the Blight... it will get worse. But who knew how long that would take.]

I didn't offer it before because I didn't realise just how much you were in rough shape. Come on, one quick little -- ritual thing? -- and then it's done.

[He squeezes her hand, and smiles at her, as if to reassure her he'll be fine. It's better than just leaving her to languish.]

I promise I'll stop bothering you after that, and you can rest. Sound good?

[There's that smile again. Thankfully she is already looking away, and cannot be affected by it directly. He cannot see front on how her lip twitches or how her jaw tightens when he squeezes her hand. As if she needs comfort, or something-]

All I wish to do is sleep in peace.

[It would be the second time she entrusted him with that, though she does not assume he would understand the value in it... she also has no plans to spell it out.

She tries to pull her hand away (even if a part of her doesn't wish to).]

Will you offer your home for it or not?

[He lets her hand go when she pulls it away, his smile not faltering even as he gives her some space.]

Yeah. Consider it your home too, for as long as you need it.

[Though it does raise the question, once again, of where she can rest, and he doesn't think her standing in a corner like before is acceptable if she's sick. He'd offer her his bed, but she'll probably worry about breaking it, like she did back at the dance. So then...]

Hang on, I have an idea.

[He goes to disappear into his room. If she bothers to peek inside (which she might, it sounds like there's a lot of rustling and a loud thud of something being moved to the floor) she'll see him dismantling his bed to pull out the mattress, turning it on its side to drag it into the lounge.]

STIRRING STORMS

ORDERS

CLOSED - HAYAME

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject