The Seeds of Unrest: the Iconoclast Oracle

[beleos]

RUNNING OUT THE CLOCK

The situation is bleak.

The Blight - and the massive labyrinth of roots tearing both cities asunder, spreading deadly flowers wherever they penetrate - have progressed to a point beyond catastrophe. People are dying in rapid numbers. Bearers are having difficulty keeping up with the spread of infection - even among one another. The collapse of Kenos seems inevitable; a cure will not come in time. You can do nothing but watch as each new day brings further disaster, ticking down the seconds until it all falls apart.

And then, you feel something seize your Shard. As if physical fingers have wrapped around it, as if it is being clutched through you by invisible hands, you feel invaded. You feel wronged. But before you can panic, a voice enters your mind through Communion.

“Excuse the dramatics, but there isn’t much time for pleasantries. The Trees are about to hit the point of no return. But there's still work to be done. The Tree of Life will take you where you can find it: the Oracle and the creature causing all this mess. Fix this when you find them. However you'd like.”

Have you heard Aetos’ voice before? Perhaps it is the first time; perhaps it is familiar to you. Either way, the last thing you will remember is a confusing jumble: a spell of immense and incredible power, one utilizing the Tree’s strength to shelter you. The sensation of every cell in your body coming alive, yet seeming to break apart and render you into billions and billions of tiny pieces, all hovering in different times and places across all the different iterations, timelines, and realities in which you have ever existed. A voice that speaks not through words asking your forgiveness, unspeakably sad.

And then, there is nothing.

AWAKENING

Your eyes open, gritty with the feeling of a long, deep slumber.

Perhaps it takes a moment to shake off the heavy veil of exhaustion, to recollect what you were doing before you fell into this state of hibernation - but as soon as you do, you feel an immediate sense of foreboding around you. It is thick in the air, oppressive and pervasive, and you aren’t left long to wonder at its source. You lay beneath the branches of the Tree of Life, but as your bleary eyes focus… you see it. The Tree is all but bereft of life. Its bark has withered down to gnarled wood, the soft lichen dried up, and the grass that should be alive beneath you is long dead and gone. There is not so much as a single leaf on its decaying branches.

It has been this way for a long, long time... you realize this with a feeling of intense dread as you see it - the beautiful expanse of stars, of the cosmos, of universes scattered like starlight above the tree's boughs, gone. In its place hangs a sickly, ominously low-hanging, and dying sun ready to sing the end of everything.

You can't help but wonder how long Kenos has been in this state, but a sense of gratitude fills you as you realize that the Tree expended the last of its energies to protect you, the Bearers, during your state of rest. Had Aetos worked with the tree to see you sent here?

The next question comes quickly: how much time do you have left…? And can you find the Oracle before that time expires?

ABANDON HOPE (DAYS 1 & 2)

The cornerstones are still active and will take you to whichever city you wish to see.

Highstorm and Springstar sit like empty monuments to the cities that were once filled with life - yet the first thing you will notice is they are strangely absent the signs of the Tree’s overgrown roots, the Blight, the catastrophic damage that you can recall all too easily. Instead, each city sits as those they were summarily abandoned overnight, leaving nothing but their shells behind. There is a stillness in the air that is unnatural and unsettling. Despite the lack of any sign of the citizens of either city, you cannot help but feel… watched.

Something terrible happened here. Best you find the Oracle before something terrible finds you, instead.

The burning of a dying sun beats down on you wherever you go, unbearable heat sending waves off the aged cobblestone streets. Perhaps it is your instinct to seek refuge in the shade - but linger too long about the shadows and that feeling of eyes on your back, of being unable to breathe, of your world closing in around you will grow untenable and drive you back into the light. If you hope to explore the ghostly shell of your city in search of the Oracle - or to sate your curiosity, some problem-solving might be in order.

And while you acclimate yourself to your circumstances, you cannot help but note you feel wrong inside, somehow…

EXPLORATION

• If your characters choose to explore previously unreachable areas, please use THIS TOPLEVEL to report when they get there in the thread! We will get back to you with what is discoverable in that location.
• The following areas are off limits for exploration: below Yima’s Manor; below the Church of Heliopolis; Alenroux; Kowloon.
• The Great Trees of both Highstorm and Springstar are in a similar state to the Tree of Life and will not respond to Communion.
• Generally speaking, items will be of poor quality. Most will look as though they’ve aged thousands of years. Others will be in half-decent shape, but sparingly so. Oddly enough, it doesn’t seem like the whole city has aged at the same rate, so especially diligent rummagers can find worthwhile supplies. Please consider this should be rare and don’t go overboard!

NOTES

Here are some prompt reminders - see the full thing at the OOC Summary!

• Characters will have a diluted connection to the Zenith or Meridian.
• There will be periods powers are weakened or non-functional during days 1-2 (up to player discretion).
• The sunlight results in scorching; the shadows cause claustrophobia and fear while outdoors.

THE RITUAL (DAYS 2+)

The place you started your journey to Kenos is also where it seems it will end. As soon as the first Bearer makes contact with the Iconoclast effigy, you are collectively drawn to the roots beneath the Tree - like a pang sent through your Shard. Your objective has been found. The Oracle awaits.

Trusting Aetos seems like a fool's errand, but you must put your hope in the Tree. What choice do you have left? It's time to find what lies at the end of this.

Bearers descend, your steps echoing in the dark, cavernous space. Once brimming with life and vitality, the roots are now dried and brittle like the bones of some ancient leviathan that died long ago. As you make their way deeper into the earth, the deadened roots twist, leading you to a vast chamber deep within it; the air here is thick with the smell of decay, and the faint glow of luminescent fungi and mosses barely illuminates the space.

To your left, the Bearers will notice what has drawn them here - and the object of their search.

An effigy sits on the ground between two darkened tunnels. The effigy is made of gnarled, dead branches woven together in a humanoid shape; its hollow, empty eyes are sightless, yet you cannot help but feel it is watching your every move. Branded on its forehead is the Iconoclast symbol carved into the rough wood.

Once all Bearers are present, the Ritual will begin. Your means of exit have been sealed off, and you are trapped, slowly deteriorating together…

NOTES

• Bearers will have access to the Ritual Chamber which is a very wide, open space with the effigy situated against the far wall from the entrance. Several smaller tunnels off-shoot from the Ritual Chamber. They all run to dead ends; some are very small or narrow. This may afford you meager privacy away from the group.
• Once a Bearer steps into the Chamber, they can no longer head back out the way they came. They’ll find themselves automatically walking back into the Chamber as if of their own volition.
• For brevity’s sake we won’t list them out again here, but the complete description of effects Bearers will experience days 2+ is available in the OOC Summary.
• The effigy is impervious to damage.
• It Is Watching You.
• In a dead-end root tunnel attached to the Iconoclast’s Chamber is the Blighted statue of an Otter that may be familiar to some… Please see THIS TOPLEVEL for more information!

THE PURGE (DAYS 5+)

The sap has festered in your veins for what feels like days. It’s impossible to tell how much time has passed; this place has no sunlight. The effigy watches as you remain trapped, huddled together around it, unable to leave as you find yourself sick with the affliction of the Meridian, Zenith - or both.

And then… something finally gives.

Though it does not move and speaks no words, you feel the effigy offering you guidance. Knowledge. Much like the Tree speaks to you in impressions and feelings, you are conveyed wisdom you did not have before: a way to take what you want and rid yourself of what you do not. A way to make your convictions known to all who would hear them. A way to be known. To write your path in blood, be it yours… or theirs.

When all is said and done, only one force - Zenith or Meridian - will gain its favor.

Show it who you are. Show it what resolve looks like to you - and what you are willing to do to attain it.

NOTES

Here are some prompt reminders - see the full thing at the OOC Summary!

• You can Purge your alignment through various methods: Trading, Corrupting, or using the Effigy itself.
• All characters will understand the end goal is for everyone to Harmonize; the alignment with the higher rate of Harmonized Bearers alive when time’s up wins the Oracle’s favor.

NOTES

• A reminder that the Harmonization tally will take place on Friday, the 19th and be open through Monday, the 29th. The results will be released on Wednesday, the 31st OOCly.
• Don’t forget to submit any deaths to the Death Tracker, with a gentle reminder characters will remain dead until the event conclusion!
• Reminder to fill out the SETTING POLL ASAP if you haven't already!
• Have some MUSIC if you'd like. LYRICS here!
• HAVE FUN!!

CODING

Comments

[hauntedking]

[ His anger had felt bottomless; a well to draw on over and over again, but in this moment, in these dying hours and minutes, he feels exhausted. Drained. He thinks he could fight still. That he could kill. But the gentle fingers against his skin and the words spoken in his ears bid him rest. It's hard to shake that angry drive, even when he's being asked to. Even if he is bone tired, worn down to a raw, sharp, jagged point by the last five days. ]

We can't fail.

[ The words slip out. ]

We can't-

[ But even signed with Meridian again, his strength and stamina still aren't what they would be with his Crest. His hands lift and clutch at Set's shoulders. ]

How can it be enough when they still live?

[ The madness isn't gone yet, but perhaps there's something clearing in that single blue eye. ]

[zauneyete]

[ Silco did. He knew he did, but the insidious press of Meridian on his senses made the words Voryn promised him revolting, instead of reassuring. They should have been. Silco wanted them to be. A part of his mind -- the rational part, he told himself -- warred with the irrational. He wanted to end it all, but it felt sickening.

And if there was the sound of a raspberry being blown, behind him and to his left, that only he could hear, he did not show that he reacted. He would not. It had to be the corrupting force of Meridian. Of course they would find someone of his conviction, like him who wanted nothing more than to shatter it and bring it all down, and force him to join them. They would not have him any other way, after all, and after taking so many of them...

It had to be it, Silco convinced himself, his eyes too-wide and crazed. (Both of them, instead of just one.) A hand ran through his hair when Voryn approached, and Silco looked him up and down, the way his eyes are red slits in dim light, and his shard still present on his forehead. Silco stared at him with an unblinking eye, for only a moment. He does not reach out to the man, because of course, it's Silco. ]

Yes -- [ He hissed. It's a lie in this moment, but not a lie as a whole. He knows it isn't. Logically. The tree had given him what he had wanted so desperately for only a short period of time, before it had taken her away. He blamed it for his daughter missing, as much as he did Horos -- and the Regent -- for keeping his daughter away from him. ]

It's glorious, isn't it? Watching everything die a slow death? The Sun's Zenith is at its peak, and it will never lower, until this is all laid to waste.

[ His shoulders tightened, and he heard his daughter again, asking him if that was really all he wanted? ]

BLESS

[diversionist]

[ there's a flicker of disbelief, reflective and immediate, at her response. quetzalcoatl wouldn't normally be able to sense this — he'd either feel that privately, not allowing it to break the surface of his reactions, or smother it over communion — but the bleed-through of bearers' minds in the presence of the oracle leaves him neither option. he scoffs, a faint sound, as he reaches to pull off his gloves. he's never without them, and she can see why, now; his crystalline shard sits nestled in the palm of his left hand, glimmers bluish white as he pulls it from his skin. he expects her to note its location just as much as he notices hers — hidden in plain sight, something he'd never noticed for what it was. and who would? cleverly placed, it's tempting to think, except none of them chose their shard placement.

rather than directly address her first comment, he chooses to answer the second. the one that's more important, more relevant. ]

We can call it helping each other.

[ which, of course, it is. and which, of course, frames this transaction in more practical terms. he isn't kind, see, this is just mutually beneficial. ]

I'll take the Zenith energy off your hands. You can have my Meridian. We'll both be happy.

[ a wry slant across the last word. no one down here is happy, and no one is likely to be, even at the conclusion of this contest. the winning faction will have some satisfaction, but they'll all have suffered this ordeal. ]

[diversionist]

[ he exhales, soft, a concession to his annoyance at being greeted by the joke. he shouldn't have expected anything else after his last few run-ins with vash, in truth, but knowing that doesn't do much to help his temper. ]

I know you don't want to be Zenith.

[ his tone is exactly the kind of strained patience used when addressing someone a little dim, someone you don't feel too charitable towards, besides. belying the way he speaks is his concern, a bright bloom through communion, impossible to hide under the circumstances. he's seen too much of that smile to believe that vash isn't struggling. there's no one who isn't, trapped as they are by the oracle down here. ]

I do. [ the unadorned truth, a rarity from cassian andor. he lifts both hands, drops them. ] There's an easy solution that helps both of us.

viBRATES TOO, cw for self-harm

[diversionist]

Don't be an idiot.

[ cassian snaps impatiently. he takes a fingertip of his left glove between his teeth and pulls the whole thing off; then pockets it, freeing the bluish white crystal from his palm. in this state of heightened communion, his anger is a palpable thing. his frustration at the situation; his worry for jyn, for other bearers he knows; the force of his focus currently pointed at the one in front of him. it's a pure thing, his attention. genuine in its intensity as much as his concern. ]

You chose to be Meridian, didn't you? [ he gestures brusquely for set to bring his own shard out. ] Is that still what you want?

[ a sharp wedge of glass materializes in his free hand, an opportunistic bit of pocketing from the abandoned cities before they'd been trapped underground. he doesn't wait for an answer before dragging it across the skin of his hand. sap beads along the cut where there should be blood, but the flicker of pain that radiates from him is the only reaction he gives to that. ]

[redsoil]

[ Sebastian must have been aware that, were Hayame to seek to stake her 'claim' upon his life, Set would not hinder her. He would not actively assist her in the moment, but he would not stand in her way. Had she succeeded, he was plenty prepared to step in to salvage the demon's shard — on the grounds that Sebastian still 'owed' him, and whether she liked it or not, denying him what he was due would schism them. ( Maybe, Sebastian, you ought to have died just for that. )

He fully expects retaliation. Since the moment he'd begun to fraternize with the demon, Set had known that one day, Sebastian would spring a trap of his own design upon the war god. A patient, meticulous trap. Half the fun was in preparing for it, stoking the flames of their strange engagement, teasing scraps of information from him like a slowly-building puzzle. And in doing so, he gets what he wants: the hint of anger, in the form of a bruising blow high upon his back. It aches, it rattles him at his knees and forces him to grab at the root he's nearest to, lest he collapse to the ground with a strained sound. Pain sucks, when demoted to demigod. Worse yet, a powerless demigod.

Even if he expects it, the indignation that accompanies such mortal agonies causes him to whirl on the black figure he had caught glimpse of. Silco is somewhere nearby, he assumes — it would be dangerous to leave him unattended, in such an enclosed space. Set sneers, baring his kitten teeth ( reduced, by the purging of Discord earlier in the month and the tenuous hold he has on Meridian's energy ) meanly. ]

I thought you enjoyed a challenge, Sebastian!

[ owie ow ow ow ]

[warmare]

[The placid tone only makes her angrier. Not only as proof of Zenith's influence on him, but the fact that he refuses to meet her, to rage against her... and those red flowers stink. The edge of the desert draws back, but she refuses to let him retreat, advancing forward to keep her hooves on that warm, soft sand.]

Well it is not the Scorching Isles, is it, Set?

[There is a reason she had ignored him in her anger before, instead of confronting him as she does now. As furious as she was, she had been willing to overlook his scheme if it would actually bear fruit, but since the Oracle had put the knowledge in their heads...]

So what if that one-eyed gaki is that demon's master?

[Hah, the master of a demon who now only had one eye himself, in revenge for the one he had taken from her-]

I am asking what you will do about the Zenith you have brought into Meridian's midst. Will you force Meridian into them? Because all they are doing now is counting for another godsdamned Zenith victory!

[redsoil]

Because we cannot fail. Take heart, Dimitri — you mastered yourself, and came back to Meridian. You chose us again, because you know in your heart that even if we lose this battle, it is impossible for us to lose the war.

[ Dimitri negates a potential, out of desperation. Set, emphasizing the word with an uptick in tone, means to indicate that they are certain to be victorious.

How, though? Set, who straddles the boundary of Meridian and Zenith, speaks only in the mindset of someone pure of confidence, resounding in hope. It is near-thoughtless, the absolute intensity of his attentions as they bend to the Meridian. Purged of all but the fragment of Yima's flower, it will take him a long while to regain himself — he is unnatural, in the precision of his conviction. Someone like Set ought to always question, always seek. He cares not to, in this moment. ]

Why kill them, when you could rob their lives of meaning?

ritual wildcard! (You can pick when!)

[zauneyete]

[ Silco is angry. The last of Meridian has been purged from his veins, and he feels it -- shimmer singing just below his skin -- like there's something electrifying and sharp, like the pollution of his precious but now long-destroyed Zaun that ran through it as surely as shimmer did. He's cautious, making his way through the tunnels, he does not vanish from sight yet, though he wishes to. He doesn't want those from Meridian to know that he has his powers back yet, or that he is no longer plagued by Meridian's promise.

A childish laugh behind him forces him to turn his head -- to see nothing there -- nobody else would hear anything, and Silco's single eye narrowed, before he turned back, to make his way down a tunnel, though there's a humanoid there that caught his attention.

Silco tipped his head, as he drew near. ]

Well, well. Look who it is. [ The little traitor. Gen had been with Meridian, he knew, because he'd been "helping", and Set had not been very quiet about Silco's "assistance" to the lot of them. He neared him, facing him, and he leaned forward. ] Having a bad day, Gen?

[ Silco, now that he had finally expelled the last of that dreadful... Meridian looked cocky. Self-assured. ]

WEGHHHS JYN!!!!!!!

[redsoil]

[ Maybe,

he ought to know her? It feels like he should. ( Oh. She is the one who lamented the loss of a favored knife. He had felt for her, in a way he did not often feel for humanity — a good weapon was hard to come by, and a comfortable one was even more rare. ) It is why when she approaches, with her hands out he asks, voice hollow and briefly disoriented: ] Were you able to find your knife? You need a proper weapon, and a knife is a better friend than anything else in this world.

[ Set would like to lift his hands, but he cannot. Everything is slow, lethargic. His despair is poignant and palpable, a miasmatic existence that whispers in the voice of a warm, once-beloved family member: You did all you could. End it. The red flowers blooming, bursting from injuries he has sustained ( a collar of red iris-like blossoms, shackles around his wrists and ankles, daisy-chained together with dark vines — ) seem to speak in that voice: You do not need her, only me. ]

[redsoil]

[ The Oracle had. His deal was only half-good ( see, the flowers whisper warmly, fondly: you are not what you think of yourself, you never were anything but what i encouraged ), his intelligence marred by failures and doubts. Even Hayame's anger fuels his despair, stinging like rejection, like proof that he can do nothing well, or right. That he should concede he is ill-suited for Meridian.

No.

No, he placed his greatest hope and weakness into her hands. He had told Cyrus he was ready to face the Meridians, to shoulder their mistrust and dislike of his methods. As long as the Tribune accepted him, maybe he could survive. ]

I certainly would not have failed to kill him, after receiving the information to fuel a wiser tactic than 'attack him head on'.

[ Maybe he's a little mad at her, for spurning what aid he offers. ]

— I could not prevent them from trading. They are Zenites, and will seek to return to Zenith. However, I demanded of them both to not kill our claimed Shard-bearers or hinder anyone seeking to Harmonize to Meridian. I protected Meridian interests.

[cutlery]

[ He’s almost surprised that the punch connects, but at least this situation is equal in what it takes. They’re both lacking their sharp senses, their strength, even their claws. It makes the hit less satisfying than Sebastian really wants it to be, and there’s a flicker of that in the Communion that links them whether they like it or not.

But. He does consider himself above his baser instincts of bloodlust. Even if there’s an urge to pursue and follow up the punch with more, Sebastian just sighs out that tension and he shakes his hand. How annoying, that even that smarts a bit. Human bodies are so inconvenient. ]

A challenge? There is no challenge in so kindly staying my hand.

[ Those bared teeth of Set’s are met with a sneer that shows Sebastian’s just as much. But the punch does make him feel a bit better, as it was overdue from the moment he’d realized just who the mysterious Meridian dealmaker was. ]

It went precisely as I predicted, save for such sweet mercy.

[ The sarcasm on the word is vicious and thick. He had fully expected to die again at Hayame’s hands, but this time without even the satisfaction of getting to fight back. Even if he lost, he was more than adept enough to do serious damage. He’d personally been hoping to cause her injury enough to agonizingly die over a period of a few days.

He steps closer, but his posture is relaxed enough to show that there won’t be another strike. It’s merely the tension of his displeasure. It also lets Set get a better look at the only barely cleaned up wound with the blood only just beginning to dry on his skin at this point. ]

Has this gone how you hoped?

[warmare]

There is something you can do. That you should do.

[He says he has protected Meridian interests, but she has already seen them skulking. That one-eyed gaki had been dripping poison in Liem Talbott's ears, and that is only what she has seen. Who knows what they have been getting up to behind her back, where others are not watching? ... It may be better than nothing to extract promises (whatever those were worth) that they wouldn't harm Meridians, but what would be even better, what would be right-]

- Kill them.

[redsoil]

Oh, please. You had plenty of loopholes to work with. Tell me I did not overestimate your intellect.

[ He doubts that he did. Of all the Shard-bearers, he finds Sebastian one of the most intelligent; like himself, in many a way and different enough to keep him on his toes. Set is impatient, where Sebastian is methodical, but they both court and covet and contrive to play out a long game. The Oracles are naught, save for a means to an end and a small piece of what has built between them. Comprehending a demon is easier than fussing with the short-sighted idiocy of the others. Truly, they cannot appreciate what he gives them unless he just does their work for them. Senseless. Insulting!

What had been satisfying, was seeing the demon disgruntled — not once, but twice! in so short a matter of time. ]

Poor thing. Let me see what she did to you...

[ He simpers sarcastically, forcing himself to straighten up through the pain and slip toward the even darker corner that Sebastian had emerged from; the back of his fingers stroking, bold, along the bottom edge of his injury. Tracing the shape of his marred flesh, eyes raking over it — hungry, for the violence caused to another. Especially one that he finds comfortable with. ( He can hear Hayame's voice in his head, demanding he not be 'comfortable' with a demon. As if his vulnerabilities are precisely the same as hers, as a human's. ) But, has it gone how he hoped? Not entirely. ]

Honestly, I have learned much. And I had a bit of fun, while I was at it. Are you upset that I made a deal with your meal?

childe ( zenith 》meridian, harbinger )

[vapour]

✚ ooc closed prompts & etc.
aa

( for custom top-levels weee.

if you'd like one hit me up via PM or discord, otherwise you are free to wing it and write a wildcard scenario. )

notes . Childe will be brainwashed into going Meridian later during the purge phase. He is available during the early parts of it as a trade for those looking to trade their Zenith away to harmonize back with Meridian, or as an enabler to turn those uncertain towards Zenith if anyone needs someone to push them but haven't found anyone yet.

my sanity .

[vapour]

[redsoil]

[ What she asks him to do is —

He could no sooner do it to her, than to Silco. The two of them are people he knows he will fail repeatedly, but will never purposefully betray. He is a traitor in deed, but not in heart. Not yet, though he could become one. A rotten, purposeful traitor. ]

Then, you will kill Amos Burton.

[warmare]

[It is the last thing she expects him to say. How does he even know? They had given each other the unwanted energies of their respective factions deep in the tunnels where only the soft glow of bio-luminescent plants had witnessed them, and yet-

Set is lurking always in this corner of her mind. Or perhaps Amos' touch was still lingering on her soul even now, like he had lingered in her thoughts since that day the pollen had been so thick in the warm air. Still-]

I did not make a deal with Amos Burton!

[Hayame snaps, a flush of color blooming beneath the anger on her face.]

I'm telling you to put down the wolves that you yourself brought into Meridian, not throwing out random names for sport.

[redsoil]

[ He chose to? Why? ( Let it go, let the world go. He will be truly free, untouchable. Osiris would be gone, forever. Finally, every nightmare would be over. ) The idea of holding onto the hope that because Egypt's god of war persisted, so-too would his world is laughable. He is poisonously Zenith, finally close to contentment and rapture. Finally close to making good on his vow to the Lady, and finally free of the senselessness of the Meri Shard-bearers. The ones who make demands of him, as if they have any right to! ]

I, [ cradled there, in his palms, is the last of it. The warmth of Meridian's light, the painful heat death that awaits the future. ]

I promised. I hate this. I want to be Zenith and be me, but I promised.

[ Set closes his fist around the mote of light, clutching to it. Clinging to it, desperate and obviously, achingly unwilling to give up on it. He will swallow it, bury it, gut himself to hide it within his flesh if he must, but he would rather die to the Oracle than fail them. His chosen pillars. The ones that matter, back home.

( Cassian's memories are of war, and he strains for them. To hear them, see them, feel them, empathize with the man himself. )

He bites down, into the flesh of his own wrist. Carving furrows into his skin with the graceless brutality of a god of violence and rapturous chaos, sawing into his flesh until sap flows sluggish and dark from the rends he leaves. It paints his mouth, and he draws back the curtain of his hair — exposing his Shard, which he has never truly hidden. It is the color of a red injury, a painful fissure that sits over his heart like someone has carved into him to tear the organ out. A Shard that mirrors his vulnerability, the wreckage of him. ]

I want to be Zenith, but I need to remain Meridian. Cassian, please.

[redsoil]

[ Set does not blind himself to his own Faction, simply because they are aligned in goal. There will come a day when he must use Meridian, too. If they stand in his way, they will be massacred as Zenith will be — without mercy, without hesitation. He watches over Hayame, and sees whom she consorts with as well. ]

No, you simply snuck off into the dark with him. You got what you needed from him, Hayame — why does he live? He is a Zenith who will never heed the call of Meridian. In his own words, he will only care for his people. Loyal Zenites are his people, not you. He is as much a danger to Meridian as Silco and Sebastian are.

[ Finally, his anger seems to heat. To stretch towards her as Set manifests within a storm, a scattering of sharp grit and burning heat. ]

You allowed him to live. Why?

rosaria ( + zhongli ) ▪︎ ᴄᴡ: ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ .

[vapour]

✚ drip on me with your bloody smile A communion of the sickest kind
aa

[ He's looking for a place to retreat and lick his wounds going this weakness wears off (whatever it is, it has to wear off soon.) Instinctively, though, all he's looking for is a place to simply curl up and die.

( He doesn't want to die, though. he really doesn't b want to. ) The Meridian influence is so heavy that he hears that insufferable reminder that dying is not something he can accept for the sake of a god fight or a completed mission. He had to live, to suffer, struggle, and overcome.

Nothing is impossible to reach or achieve so long as he doesn't die.

If he were back in Teyvat, perhaps he could do just this. Or if they had their abilities. Or if he wasn't so damn ill on top of his injuries. If only if only. He knows this is a dead end, but if he can stay in the shadows, maybe anyone looking to pick him off might miss his presence should they search here.

He hears footsteps, and he hates to say it, but he knows them well enough to knit this isn't a concierge run-in. He saw her coming when Zhongli hesitated back in the main area, and he had run to get away from both polearm users. Looks like he at least shook off once, but probably not for long. Shifting, he attempts to turn fully back around towards her but ends up staggering to have to catch himself against the tunnel wall. ]

Oya? I'm a popular guy today. And to think I was under the impression that you didn't like being around me at all, Sister Rosaria.

[ Trying to make light of the situation does nothing for him. Unless this all somehow ends now, he is going to die because of blood loss alone. Even the Abyss can't seem to do anything for his injuries despite the fact that Harmonization should normally bring back their abilities from home. ]

So, you must be here to do Lord Barbatos's work, then? [ he says it almost bitterly, but it might just be because he is in such bad shape. What that work is, however, is pretty ambiguous and possessing far more possible answers than she might know herself. afterall, killing off a Fatui Harbinger would only be one stretched step of many more needing to be climbed for the City of Freedom to ever come close to getting "even." At the same time,
is she protecting Zhongli since he hesitated? That would be something the wind archon and his followers might prioritize.

(if only he could just manage a few seconds of his Foul Legacy form, that should be enough to make short work of what's left of him and give no one the satisfaction of making a killing blow, right?)

Truthfully, he's only relatively docile in behavior because he's so weak. In reality, the Meridian's influence and Set's resolve to align with it consumes him. The Meridian's purpose of creation and life should logically clash with the Abyss inside of him to a point of incapacitation, one would think. Instead, it only amplifies its growth and what it can consume of his humanity despite doing nothing for his survival physiologically. Perhaps it has something to do with why their abilities don't work, either, but the overgrowth of the miasma from the Abyss is mind-breaking and a insular haze. Add it to everying else: the doubts, the questions, the lack of mindscape barriers, being trapped underground for days and days with no food, no water, and no fucking idea what is the right thing to do in order to glue the broken pieces of Kenos all back together again has left his sanity in tatters. It swings dangerously low, only thin sinew-like pieces still keeping it from snapping completely while hovered above conflict between the Abyss, the Meridian, and the Discord all struggling in a power play for dominance.

The only thing that is for sure is that there is no longer any room inside of his mind for Childe himself. He knows who Rosaria is, but he doesn't know her, anymore; and it's not because they have never been that close to begin with: it's the same for all of them. He knows their faces and their names and that he's their enemy back home, that now he's their enemy again here, too, (we're they ever not enemies, then?) but it's all detached, as if he had read it in a book somewhere rather than involved. All this with the conflicting and volatile feelings concerning Zhongli: the one that talked all about keeping him safe, that wouldn't leave him alone about protecting him had been inches from taking his life in a whirl of confusion. Zhongli tried to kill him, and Rosaria is going to actually succeed if he can't somehow fend her off (... which he can't because all his trump cards are his abilities and have nothing to do with him being an ordinary human. His fighting skill does, but injured like this thanks to Set and Zhongli, he might be able match her blow for blow a few times, but only a few before it'll be too much force and his body with cave in on itself and fail him. )

He coughs, sliding himself to the ground in a miserable slump against the tunnel "wall," blood smearing it like paint. It's hard to see, but there is a certain angle where it reflects enough light to show the root branches are wet. Even if not, though, Rosaria will smell it plenty. ]

Don't trust me to die quickly on my own? You Mondstadt people are really just so impatient.

[ run. you better run—

— oh, but you have no place to go. ]

rudbeckia de borgia • meridian ⭬ zenith • stargazer

[appeale]

I. THE RITUAL;

[ throughout the period trapped within the root caverns, the influence that bleeds from Rudbeckia via Communion is one of hopelessness, despair, and a fear that is breathless in its intensity – as well as a more targeted focus on the terror of home. while many Meridians are being made to fear that they can never return, and the Zenites doubt the viability of their new world to be made, the paranoid insecurity that eats ravenously through Ruby's thoughts is: what if they're wrong, and a Meridian victory results in her being sent to her home whether she wants to go or not? ]

A ➢ ALL THE THINGS THAT I RAN FROM

[ miserable as it is, packed into close quarters, their surroundings dark and damp, senses clouded with the smell of rot—there is also a certain safety in this. Rudbeckia has no need to fear that she will be harmed with so many eyes upon them, nor is there any pressure to make herself useful when they have all been rendered equally ineffectual. her only concern is that she will be exposed through the near-hivemind level of communication they're experiencing, and she has to decide whether to cling to her individuality or throw herself into the thoughts of others to hide.

on the face of things, Ruby is plainly anxious but makes good company of herself to pass the time down here. she's kind and gentle to both Meridian and Zenith alike, willing to engage in conversation anyone who doesn't seem to indicate they want her gone. ]

We should keep our spirits up. [ her smile is wan, worn down by exhaustion and hunger; more than anything, this cheer is not reflected in the Communion space at all. instead, there is a heavy sense of dread and a crawling anxiety that invades you. ] You know, we made it through the last Oracle!

[ after a pause, she tries again, tentative: ] A-At least we're out of the sun...?

B ➢ MY MONTAGE OF LOST THINGS (POSSIBLE CW: SUICIDE)

[ there are rudbeckia flowers growing through her hair, soft young vines entwined around her arms and throat, petals emerging like downy feathers along her neck and jawline. Ruby has little room to be afraid of these changes, though, with her sister's voice so warm and soothing in her ear: Hey █████, are you really going to run away? You miss me. I miss you, too. Isn't there a chance you could see me again? Maybe we could go together to a new world entirely— ]

It wouldn't matter. [ it's muffled, spoken into the fabric of her skirts, her legs folded up to her chest and face buried in her knees. ] As if my life would be any different in a new world...

[ the feeling of despair has intensified to something almost like a black hole in the Communion space. ]

C ➢ MY SHINING TRINKETS OF GRIEF (CW: ABUSE)

[ Come here, Ruby.

as the Zenith influence sinks deeper into her blood, Rudbeckia's transformation has taken on a more wild appearance. her long hair is overgrown with coneflowers, and petals flutter to the ground with every movement she makes; the vines encircling her wrists and throat have turned hard and dark and thorny, gripping at her like claws. by this stage, she can be found huddled in corners or hidden within tunnels, and seeing her curled up as small as she can possibly be, it almost looks as though the Tree is consuming her. once again, this is the least of her concerns, her senses narrowed down to the soft voice in her ear:

You need to learn your lesson. ]

I'm sorry. [ she sobs into the dirt, moss beneath her fingernails. ] I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...

[ they're only memories, she knows that. but the pain is so easy to remember. just from hearing his voice so vividly, Rudbeckia can feel Cesare's hands on her face, the ache of her scalp, white-hot lines burning across her back. her fear has reached a fever-pitch, almost to the point of mania: she cannot be sent home. she can't, she absolutely can't. if she can't trust that Meridian will give her that choice—if Zenith is the better guarantee, if she has to burn it all to the ground just to make certain there isn't any Romagna to return to—

(there was a dream she had, once. a wretched, unforgiveable witch – a woman very much like herself – overlooking a city in flames, hysterical with laughter. Every day I dreamt of this shitty place turning into a sea of blood, and somehow you've granted me my wish!)

the effect on the Shard-Bearers' mass Communion is maddening, so it wouldn't be a surprise if someone was trying to find the source of animal fear that is poisoning the well. overcome by her hallucinations, Rudbeckia won't hear anyone approaching at first; if she's spoken to, she whirls around with a choked gasp, or screams if touched instead. either way, the look in her eyes is wild. ]

—I'm sorry!

II. THE PURGE – EARLY;

A ➢ WHY DON'T YOU GIVE ME A CALL?

[ once the motivation to act drops upon them all, Rudbeckia's fleeting sense of safety evaporates in an instant. the bodies around her are no longer witnesses to keep each other in check; now, every single one of them has the potential to turn against her in violence for failing to meet their standards. and she will fail. if this is a test of their convictions, then she has no hope of passing.

still, while she feels no compulsion to act and prove herself, she also has no intention of deliberately branding herself a traitor. it's the Meridian she gravitates towards, hiding in their shadows while they take the initiative. while moving alone, if she runs across another Meridian unexpectedly, she's quick to yelp: ]

I'm still Meridian! I haven't been able to get rid of this [ by which she means the Zenith energy ] yet, but I'm still... I-I'm not going to leave.

[ unfortunately, her lack of confidence is apparent by Communion. ]

B ➢ OPEN MY MOUTH, YES I'LL TAKE IT ALL

[ the Zenith may kill her in order to secure their victory by numbers – yes, that is certainly one fear. it's a fear that she's very well-accustomed to. what is strange and new to Rudbeckia is the fear of their influence. despair is not something she's able to resist, and while she means to rejoin the Meridian for the sake of her own safety, she knows with perfect clarity that not one of them would be able to convince her to do so. engaging with any Zenite may very well ruin everything for her.

that isn't something she can hide from them, either. as soon as Ruby encounters a member of Zenith, as well as strangers and the Unharmonised, she is afraid of them and her reasons for feeling that way ring clear across the bridge of Communion. she knows that Zenith is where she "should" belong. ]

Um, i-if you're looking to trade...

III. THE PURGE – LATE;

A ➢ ALL THIS WORK GONE TO WASTE

[ she fucked it up, of course. how could anyone have expected her to do any better? she's a miserable coward, and it's so much easier to just give up. Rudbeckia has endured, and endured, and endured—she is tired. this is how she remembers feeling towards the end of her first life; that if it could all be over, if she could just rest...

but the poaching is still ongoing, and now she's on the wrong side. there isn't any doubt in her mind that if a Meri finds out she's betrayed them, even if by weakness rather than malice, they will kill her on the spot. so regardless of what previous interactions she's had with someone, no matter how friendly they've made themselves in the past, the second that Ruby encounters someone she knows to be (maybe formerly?) Meridian-aligned—

she turns and runs. ]

B ➢ YOU MADE ME CLIMB THEN YOU SHUT THE GATE

[ just for the next few days, there is nowhere safer for her to be than with a Zenite. once this all passes, she can't possibly rely on their protection; she'll be just as useless to them as she has been to the Meridian, if not more so, and they'll surely be wary of any sudden newcomers. but until this trial ends, she is a point towards their victory for as long as she stays alive.

Rudbeckia has largely avoided Zenith as much as possible ever since she chose Meridian, so there isn't much information she has to help her make a decision on who she should stay beside, and she can't afford to be picky. anyone she can confirm as a Zenite (or will-be-Zenite) she will greet with a deep curtsey and an assurance: ]

I promise I won't bother you. Um, if I could just accompany you for now...

IV. WILDCARD;

( plotting comment. you're welcome to hit me up with anything that doesn't fall under the above prompts, or let me know if you want me to write up a specific starter for anything else! you can contact me via the plotting meme, on phaseblast, or via discord at isa#2727 for whatever you desire!! )

DIMITRI & GEN █

[appeale]

[ just because it's inevitable that this gathering would break out in violence sooner or later doesn't mean that Rudbeckia isn't in shock when it happens at last. she had feared, from the beginning, that it would be a Zenite to kill her, simply sweeping a useless piece off the chessboard without a moment's thought — but in the end, it's Meridian she has to be afraid of. all the time and effort she had put into playing the part of the maidservant, meek and pitiable but obedient, none of it is worth anything. her life means nothing to these people, and so the rope she's built slips from her hands in an instant.

if it weren't for the state of the Communion bond at the moment, maybe Ruby would have been able to get by unnoticed. as it is, though, there's no hiding the high-pitched terror that rings in her mind when she stumbles across Dimitri after slipping out of her hiding place, nor the reason for it: that he is Meridian, and she is not anymore.

they had a pleasant conversation at the masquerade. she portrayed herself well, she made promises for the future, she even made a point of revealing her identity so that it might help in situations like this. looking at him right now, she already knows it won't be enough. ]

Signore. [ her voice comes out small. ] I... I-I'm not going to cause any trouble. I just want to wait for this all to be over. Please.

[ ahh, this is her fault. she should have tried harder – been better, more likeable. this life is a failure yet again. ]

[warmare]

[The phrasing, snuck off into the dark with him makes her stiffen with insult, her mane and tail whipping in the whirl of wind where the hot, dry air of desert collides with the cold howl of icy mountain wind. Why does he still live, when she could have killed him easily before his Zenith powers fully returned to him?]

I did not invite him into Meridian to whisper and manipulate as he pleases. He is with Zenith and he will stay with Zenith.

[She had told Amos Burton already, her lips still swollen from kisses they had unknowingly shared, that she would kill him if he ever stood directly between her and a return to her world. She knew well enough he would try to do the same to her if that Yima woman demanded it. If he even thought for a moment, perhaps, that she would wish it. But beneath that... there had been a single precious day that she had felt understood. There had been things forced into the light between them that made it clear that... they came from situations far more similar than she would have ever imagined she might share with a human man.

But she cannot say that. She had sworn she would not tell the things she had found out about him, and even though he had (hurt her) alluded to her own secrets in the debate over Manon's shard... She is not an oathbreaker.

Hayame's sharp teeth bite into her lip, her fingers curl tighter into fists.]

We traded only that which was needed, and then our business was done. Unlike some people, I would not suffer that Zenith stain to stay inside of me any longer.

DEXTERA █

[appeale]

[ in times of strife, usually the best thing that Rudbeckia can do – the only thing that she can do, really – is cleave to someone else, for both protection and the sake of maintaining her reputation. but when resources are scarce, it quickly becomes more advantageous to cast a burden aside, and she would always be the first to go. she can't expect anyone to keep her alive without first giving them a reason to do so.

it doesn't seem like there's anyone left to fear aside from the other Shard-Bearers, which is the only reason Ruby ventures out on her own for this particular occasion. if she can bring back food or, or something, prove that she'll make an effort so they can use her as long as she's not dead yet...

unfortunately, this is how Dextera finds her face-down on the ground in Springstar, near unconscious. once she's in the shade, she rouses, and the first words she says are: ]

I'm really sorry, signore...

[ this is so humiliating. ]