beleos: (Default)
beleos ([personal profile] beleos) wrote in [community profile] kenoslogs2023-05-12 05:00 pm

The Seeds of Unrest: the Iconoclast Oracle


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
sterngaze: (neutral: dubious)

cw: self harm

[personal profile] sterngaze 2023-05-15 04:35 pm (UTC)(link)
[Liem's focus inward is so despairingly intent that he does not notice Sebastian's approach — heralded though it is by the muted confidence of his thoughts — until he hears his name called out to him. He has to drag his gaze from the blade in his grip, from the promise of bright, singing pain he can already imagine were he to jerk the weathered edge across his exposed palm. The immediacy of that suffering has long been a rock to him, serving to ground him in the here and now.

It is familiar — so much so that the ghost of that white-hot sensation stabs through him, and pulses out like the toll of a bell, even as he lowers the knife and lifts his gaze.
]

Mister Michaelis.

[His reply is soft, as though the fever in his eyes and tension in his body have left him with little breath to speak above a whisper. His grip on the knife is still white-knuckled, though the trembling in his hands seems to have stilled. Indeed, he seems to have gone entirely motionless, save for the focus of his eyes and the slow, shallow movements of his breathing.

Although he tries to mask the extent of his distraction, the tenor of his thoughts does not calm significantly even when faced with Sebastian's serenity.
]

Are you here seeking privacy…?
diversionist: (r1 » mission plans.)

2/2

[personal profile] diversionist 2023-05-15 04:37 pm (UTC)(link)
[ the first time they ever spoke, cassian had allowed set to glimpse the truth of him. it had been a calculated decision, as all of his are. aware of his inexperience in this world, his lack of supernatural ability, and his unwillingness to express the full extent of his skills — he had chosen to make up the difference by responding to set's desire for convictions. on this score, he'd known himself to be overflowing. the gamble had paid off, and he'd considered the risk one worth taking. all the better that set had turned out to be someone he didn't mind having this truth, as well as others. (cassian, set says, and he doesn't regret that either.)

this is different.

the bond that opens between the two of them roars to life with the ferocity of an earthquake, shaking every single one of cassian's carefully built walls to rubble. the layers of distance he keeps between himself and the world crumble in a single instant, all of his hidden thoughts and longings and fears and desires blazing forth like a raging sun. the meridian in him burns hot, a familiar ferocity of hope, a deep-rooted love for people and places in his galaxy that has begun to spread to those here; the zenith in him frosts and snaps, his rage and his grief so interwound with his sense of self as to be inextricable, the refusal to accept the galaxy as it is much older than the paltry months he's spent in kenos.

the two forces war with each other, nearly balanced in strength, but the zenith's strength is bolstered by his desire for it. cassian andor would just as soon not throw his lot in with a faction he doesn't trust, but — between the two — the one he wants is zenith. the one he needs is zenith.

an old woman's voice, rent with static: there is a wound that won't heal at the center of the galaxy. there is a darkness reaching like rust into everything around us.

flashes of white armor; the thundering of footsteps of whole battalions on the move; unimaginable strength steamrolling over villages, over cities, over planets, over entire quadrants of the galaxy. massacres on a huge scale. people displaced, discarded, left hanging in the square for insurrection, left hollow-eyed trembling versions of themselves for the crimes of not submitting, for no crimes at all. a beam of green light, a city in the desert tearing itself to pieces, the planet seeming to cave in upon itself.

it's easy for the dead to tell you to fight.

and he has; he has; he has. whatever set might have suspected before, he knows this for certain now. cassian has killed, has betrayed, has sabotaged so often he's lost count, so often he couldn't remember it all if he tried. he's seen open battlefields, has barely fled with his life; he's spearheaded, been part of, many more clandestine operations. unnoticed, when the job was done right, unapplauded, done under the cover of darkness. he's fought so hard he's certain there's nothing else to him. he'd told vash, not so long ago, some people aren't meant for peace. he's spilled so much blood, deserving and not, and he's condemned himself just as much. he will, has, should pay for his choices, no matter his reasons. the purity of his cause doesn't absolve the crimes his hands have committed, the lies his mouth has told.

a young man's voice: remember this, freedom is a pure idea. the imperial need for control is so desperate because it is so unnatural. and then, perhaps surprisingly, jyn's voice: we'll take the next chance. and the next. on and on until we win...or the chances are spent.

he does need zenith, unlike set. he has his own promises, like set. are promises to the dead any less binding, when the one who made them is alive? he cannot simply reinstate a galaxy clenched in the grip of the empire. the idea is intolerable; the idea is unconscionable; the strength of this conviction burns like a brand. if his galaxy is gone, then he will not see it brought back under tyranny and oppression. does that make him a monster in the eyes of the meridian, in the eyes of objectivity? then he is a monster; he is already a monster, long past. let the shattering of his decency, his self, his life be part of the foundation that forges a better galaxy. let people be born and live and die without the shadow of oppression stretching long over their planets. let people know freedom, as he hasn't. and so, to this end, he releases the burning meridian energies inside of him; and so, so this end, he welcomes the cool zenith energies that nearly overflow inside set. ]
impiety: (pic#16436725)

III

[personal profile] impiety 2023-05-15 04:39 pm (UTC)(link)
I don't see why we can't have a talk.

[ At this point, his wings have started to become singed in the blistering sun. The beautiful white that they used to be has darkened edges. He looks more like the depiction of a fallen angel -- well, depiction from other worlds, anyway.

Still, he has the usual air: kind, patient, understanding. Even with Meridian corrupting his thoughts, he is still always himself.

With Zenith, it was so that he could acquire the Absolute God's shard - so that he could attempt to pull the power She has to remake everything for everyone. With Meridian, he wants to bring the world back - to have them know they again faced oblivion and continue to strike against the Absolute God.

His plans never change just the means that he is working towards them. Salvation continues to corrupt and drive him mad. But what can he do at this point? ]


How shall we start? [ A beat. ] How have you been, Gen?
warmare: (恨み)

[personal profile] warmare 2023-05-15 04:41 pm (UTC)(link)
[Since the Oracle had made clear the rules of engagement, Hayame had come to see nearly everyone around her not as enemy or ally... but as enemy, traitor, or potential traitor. Around her, the weak-willed were letting themselves be swayed by anyone with a silver tongue and a soothing word, and the few strong among them were yet staying their hands when they could be dolling out judgements.

It is infuriating. It is isolating. It is exhausting.]


Watch it.

[She pulls up short coming out of a side tunnel when Byleth appears in front of her, looking down at the man from her superior height (not that that was the strange part of the interaction). She might not know the mercenary well, but she associated him with a much calmer, serious state... Still, perhaps it can be explained just by the situation here beneath the tree roots. She does not know. What she does know... is what she had overheard him say last. They have not spoken about it. - She does not know how to speak about it.

So she just stands there, as if waiting for his response to her warning.]
hurricaneofblood: (pic#16170651)

𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋, 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘'𝐒 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍

[personal profile] hurricaneofblood 2023-05-15 04:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Ow, ow, ow.

Flamebringer may not be amply named since he does not like the heat of the sun. His tanned skin is already starting to get burned -- he is not a fan. Sure, he's wandered the deserts before, but whatever. He grumbles to himself as he uses the shade of a fence to keep him safe.

Only to have an asshole knock it over.

He has to scramble over to Dark's side and give his tit a violent swat in greeting and annoyance. ]


Ha-ha, you're a riot today.
hurricaneofblood: (pic#16170655)

OR MAYBE JUST A BETTER ME!

[personal profile] hurricaneofblood 2023-05-15 05:04 pm (UTC)(link)
[ For all his edgy everything, Flamebringer took his seat in front of the strange man. The feeling from him was unsettling. Though, if he was asked why, he wouldn't have a good reason to give. Everywhere around them seems to be dying; there is poison (in his mind, anyway) running through the veins of everyone.

He makes a face at the roots that are starting to wrap around him. What blooms from him are not flowers but the tiny branches of a bonsai. Flamebringer tips his head back to blow his bangs out of his eyes. ]


I intend to remain with Meridian.

[ There is something like regret, sorrow, about pulling away from Zenith. Because Zenith feels more like him. He wants to just bring back people instead of clinging onto a world he feels is lost. Time will march onward and it's difficult to say anything will really change once those that wanted change are gone. On that world, he did not find any cause to fight for all his might. Not even his illness; not even the treatment that shared his illness. ]

There is a cause that I've found here that I have to fight for, y'see.
warmare: (沈黙)

[personal profile] warmare 2023-05-15 05:07 pm (UTC)(link)
[The Oracle had made clear the rules of engagement, and in that instant Hayame had come to see nearly everyone around her not as enemy or ally... but as enemy, traitor, or potential traitor. The weak-willed could be swayed by anyone with a silver tongue and a soothing word, and the weak in power could be cornered and forced into accepting the energies of an enemy faction.

In these circumstances... how is she supposed to assure a Meridian victory?

The soulless eyes of the Iconoclast effigy catch her gaze... until someone else does. Dextera... Hayame does not move a muscle beyond a twitch and a tightening in the back of her jaw, but she does not need to move to answer. To ask,]


With what?

[She thinks she knows already. At least, she knows what she thinks of him.

"Potential traitor".]
redsoil: (pic#16459221)

+1 SPARE.

[personal profile] redsoil 2023-05-15 05:12 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Amidst all things, is the damnable otter.

At least now they know who brought the Blight to them, and poisoned the land. ]


Force him to repay Kenos, for his crimes. His knowledge of the Blight, and of Mimsy's [ gag, that name ] magic will prove vital. Make him toil, struggle and rue his decision — make him assist in righting his wrong.

[ Set adds, in case anyone thinks he's being MERCIFUL: ] And when he is done, imprison him until the end of his days in service to all of Kenos. For however long it lasts.
hurricaneofblood: (pic#16170654)

ABANDON HOPE [HIGHSTORM]

[personal profile] hurricaneofblood 2023-05-15 05:15 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Ah, where's Dark?

Flamebringer came to Highstorm purely hoping to find his friend. It didn't matter that they were on opposite sides; it would just be nice to see him before the world ends. His sword is hooked to his side. He hopes to challenge him to the death. If everything is to go, he would like to choose the way he dies. Battle is the only one that seemed best, but as always, fate (or whathaveyou) decides otherwise.

He ends up encountering a young girl with crippled feet. She won't be able to get to shelter on her own, let alone feed herself with the supplies that have to be scavenged for. There is a selfishness in him that wasn't wholly there before. It tells him to abandon her because he has his own goals and whims to appease. It tells him there's still time to try to call the Doctor here.

Flamebringer shakes these thoughts off. ]


I could be doing better. [ It is what he says as he kneels down. ] Let's do what you said - find some shelter and rest a bit.
fishfearme: (look down)

[personal profile] fishfearme 2023-05-15 05:17 pm (UTC)(link)
...yes. I should be more mindful.

[By degrees, Byleth straightened up from his defeated slump and regained some level of composure. His anxiety wasn't as clearly written across his face, though his body was still as tightly coiled as a pressurised spring, and his hand moved slightly - as if to rest on the pommel of a sword no longer there. He let his hand drop when he realised.]

Thank you. [For briefly jolting him out of his funk.] I was lost in thought, and...

[He stopped, because what little he knew of Hayame - and what he had covertly observed - told him she wouldn't tolerate pointless small talk. They were passing acquaintances at most. He let the rest of his words die out into a quiet, barely there hum.

...and didn't know how to proceed from here. He was socially awkward on a good day. When stressed and sleep-deprived? The part of his brain where he had memorised inoffensive conversation prompts and generic answers wasn't firing. His mind was just blank, and it made the pause after his unfinished sentence kind of. awkward.]
redsoil: (pic#16220624)

i-a.

[personal profile] redsoil 2023-05-15 05:20 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It is without word, that the thrumming of Meridian's energy coalesces. It flinches and falters, stuttering like a bird with a broken wing as a lattice of dark, desiccated vines begin to ensnare the great windows of Meridian's Church and cast at least one long line of blistering light into patches of shadow. Below the sill stands a redhead, his own skin blistered from the sunlight, dark circles building under his own eyes ( or perhaps, that is simply the black kohl he layers in smudgy, smoky lines upon his skin — ). Set holds his hand fast to the wall of the Church, forcing his faltering powers to build shade for Liem. To give him a place that is not true bright, nor true dark. ]

Liem Talbott.

[ He speaks his name, in a hoarse whisper. Peeling his fingers from the great, towering wall in order to begin to approach the other. ]

Why did you not seek me? Are we not friends by now?

[ Friends, says a god, to a priest. Friends, Set so freely, so suddenly, calls them. ]

If you ail, I will be there for you. Yet, I cannot be, if you do not let me know when you need me.
cutlery: please do not take! (your tea has an iceberg in it)

[personal profile] cutlery 2023-05-15 05:21 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The pointed barb gets Sebastian’s jaw to tighten, and there’s a flicker of that anger again. He’s well aware of such loopholes, but none of them would benefit him in the long term. Sebastian’s maneuvers are carefully planned out things, for he’s sharply attentive to how others perceive him. He’ll never be able to earnestly appear as a benign, non-threatening man, for Horos had forced his hand to reveal himself as a demon nearly immediately. But he does need most people to see him as a curiosity, not a threat. So, in such a public arena, the only option left to him when faced with Hayame’s wrath is to continue to play docile so that she might be seen as the mad one. It’s a weapon he can wield as deftly as a knife, but in this case, it’s also one that he deeply disliked.

However, the sharp comment on his tongue is just as quickly quelled by Set’s sarcasm. If there’s something he finds worse than having his cleverness questioned, it’s definitely being pitied by Set, even as a joke. Not to say that he denies the touch, though. To pull back or to try and hide the injury now would be to show a different kind of weakness. ]


My fitting comeuppance, I am sure— [ He stops to hiss through clenched teeth as Set strokes at the area, since it still burns with the pain of raw nerve endings (or whatever Sebastian has made to simulate them). He had removed Hayame’s eye with all of the perfect precision that could be expected from the demon, but it wasn’t a “grace” that had been returned. It likely couldn’t have been.

It’s vague, not quite concrete thoughts or feelings so much as a sharp, immediate impression in response to the pain, but it’ll come through Communion regardless. Whatever “score” he and Hayame had, it’s no longer settled in Sebastian’s books. This is something he’ll respond to and viciously, at that. But Set also knows Sebastian well enough at this point that this doesn’t necessarily mean violence. Perhaps it almost certainly doesn’t. ]


Of course.

[ That sharp impression leaves with the question, though Sebastian almost spits out his answer through a slightly shaky breath. Whether it’s pain, anger, or some combination of the two isn’t entirely clear, even with Communion. Without his true being to draw on and retreat to in the face of an injury, he really is just trapped in a more fragile body, what with his attention to detail at trying to perfectly blend in with humans. ]

I have already given my complaints to my master, [ He doesn’t refer to Silco that way often, but considering it’s something Set knows now, its use here is pointed ] but do not think you are free of them either. I hope part of what you have learned is better dealmaking, for one.
warmare: (恐慌)

[personal profile] warmare 2023-05-15 05:34 pm (UTC)(link)
[He refuses to turn and face her, even as he answers her hail. It would be insulting any day, perhaps enough to make her question where his usual impeccable manners had gone, but on this day... in these circumstances... she can only see in it shame and resignation. Her harsh gaze observes the knit of his shoulders, the angle of his stance... and behind him, unseen, her lips twist into an offended gash.]

Do you think I am not tired?

[Since the Oracle's announcement, she had ceased to have enemies and allies. Now, she had enemies, traitors, and potential traitors. And Liem-]

You stink of Zenith.

[Will he deny it? Will he turn and face her and deny it?]
redsoil: (pic#16220817)

II, slightly wildcard.

[personal profile] redsoil 2023-05-15 05:35 pm (UTC)(link)
Gen.

[ — and like that, with but a whisper to herald his identity, the weight of Set's body drapes across the young man's spine. He fits to him, curling his knees up behind Gen's huddled form, chest pressed along the line of his back; his arms fit loosely around Gen's waist, hands slipping up to cradle his chest — to find the aching, thundering thing that is his heart, pounding against his own ribs. Set's body is cooling, Zenith poured throughout him, but his hands are still warm. He feels the brutal grasp of Gen's hand upon his wrist, and does not fight to free himself from it, enveloping the other to the point where he might just crush their bodies to the root-covered ground and drive them into the earth itself.

( With him, he carries it all: one vow, two vows, a garden of choking, red flowers and a single, peaceable bloom. A creature of extremes, of chaos and rejection of dichotomy. Someone who wavers, the same as a human, in the end. Who wants to be accepted, and who — who has thrown himself to where he will burn most acutely, in defiance of peace. ) ]


It is only me. I will not leave you.

[ He speaks to the back of Gen's head, into the dark hairs that gather sweat and grime at the nape of his neck and the line of his throat, breathing warm and hard. Holding him, as if together, they might hold one another from scattering to pieces. Like this, Set is not entirely kind, nor is he entirely cruel. There is no reason for him to be there, no ulterior motive. His mind is open and loose, and is so very glad, so very, very glad, that he has found Minegishi Gen in this place. ]
bakedapple: (Default)

1/wildcard

[personal profile] bakedapple 2023-05-15 05:42 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The state of things is so severe that even the normally unflappable Link is beginning to feel... anxious. The horrible sun makes him feel like he's standing in an oven if he's exposed to its light for more than a few minutes at a time, and any attempt to block the light makes him feel like something horrible is watching him, hunting him, and forcing him back into the illusory safety of a building.

But things can't continue like this. They need supplies, they need food, and... they need weapons. To his intense dismay, the Master Sword disappeared from his person following their arrival in this cursed mimic of Kenos. It's nowhere to be found, not his quarters, the barracks of Heliopolis, nowhere. How can that be possible? So much of everything else seems to be in its place — painfully so, for hundreds if not thousands of years.

Something bad is going to happen, he's sure of it, and he can't afford to be defenseless. It was easy to find a comrade in Dimitri, the two of them harboring similar worries and thus a similar motivation to act. They have been searching the Seat of the Tribune for a few hours now, trying to find whatever they can to scavenge, with little success. As their footsteps echo off the ancient stone as they near the main courtyard housing Springstar's Tree, Link glances uneasily at his friend.
]

Last time I was here, there was a pool of water next to the Tree. [ So, maybe they'll find a source of water, at least. It might not be clean water but water is water. ] And... Cyrus' office is just through here, too.
redsoil: (pic#16410384)

CHILDE.

[personal profile] redsoil 2023-05-15 05:46 pm (UTC)(link)
[ — by the time they meet, Set burns from within. The force of Meridian that colors his shard a perfect, searing thing that speaks not to the message of hopefulness that his faction promotes, but to the merciless heat of the light. Energy pours from him, sparking in the depths of his eyes, radiant and unbridled; there is no calm, in being Meridian, there is no acceptance. They rage, they shriek battlecries, they war with everything and everyone, even their own kind. Embodied within Set, Meridian is constant battle. And it is that vibrancy that he finally, finally brings to Childe. ]

I have been looking for you, for so long.

[ The words sound like a vow. Intensive, without restraint. Set has never held his tongue, never said what he did not mean to. Super-charged with delight, he holds his hands out to Childe. To someone he has obviously, painfully, wanted to meet. The heightened state of Communion means he cannot be marked as a liar, nor someone exaggerating how he feels — I want you, his soul cries. I want to break against you, I want to crush you below me. He has yearned for Childe's skill, for his prowess and passion, since the first stumbled across one another before the Scorching Isles.

He will not be denied again. ]


You are far more beautiful in person. But, I see they [ Zenith, he means ] have dulled your edges — come, sharpen yourself again. I only want to have you, pure of bloodlust and driven to thrive. I am Set, the god of war who desires you in all your glory, Childe!
bakedapple: (fanart // exhausted)

ii-b

[personal profile] bakedapple 2023-05-15 05:56 pm (UTC)(link)
[ After two days, Link is absolutely starving. As is usual for him in times of strife, he's been burning the candle at both ends, spending his waking moments searching Springstar for any number of things he's hoped to find: food, water, survivors, weapons, a hint about what's going on, anything. So far, he has had little to show for it except intense hunger, exhaustion, and a nasty sunburn.

That smell, though. He might not have been able to resist it, even if he weren't running on fumes. How someone could be cooking something that smells that good is truly beyond him, but maybe they lucked out and found intact foodstuffs? That's what he is assuming, at least, as he shuffles into the abandoned restaurant with a threadbare blanket held over his head to protect him (poorly) from the dying sun.

He has no idea who this person is.
]

Cassoulet? What's that?

[ Peering into the window to the kitchen, Link is visibly fidgety. The open layout of this building provides no protection from that creeping claustrophobia, it seems. He puts down the blanket with a sigh. ]

If it's food, I'll take it. Please. Whatever you're willing to give.
redsoil: (pic#16220779)

JOHN ARCHIVIST.

[personal profile] redsoil 2023-05-15 05:58 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Even depowered, Set is a tactical nightmare. He is athletic, battle-learned. he knows hundreds of forms of combat, all of which he wishes he could bring to bear in this moment, against this man. He brings Jonathan Sims down, in a dark corner — far enough away, confined within the imprisoning roots, that it will take a moment for anyone to get to them, but not far enough away that they can be alone. Set holds him underneath the weight of his body, knees shoved bruise-brutal along the line of the man's ribs ( finding the strange give, the space where ribs ought to be, and digging his weight in there — ) and hands holding his forearms.

Red hair streams around them, ribbons of crimson that obscure their expressions like a veil, a velvet curtain upon this stage now built for two. An onlooker might think the war god has come to claim a tithe of blood once more, from Zenith's scribe, but John will see it — the expression on his face, twisted in bleak misery. Heartbreak, and anger all in one moment. It is paralyzing, lovely upon him. In the obscenity of mass Communion, the red flowers that blossom in his soul seem to shiver, to indulge. To seek the sorrow within Set as if it were the sun, with sentiments of adoration, obsession.

( There is Fear, among them. Rooted so deep within him. )

He shakes John, just a little. Voice catching on his own state, Zenith energy building dark within him. ]


— we were even. We were even, Jonathan Sims.

[ Hollow, and haunting. There is a burning, shining brand in the center of his throat — dark vines cradle the line of his neck like a controlling collar, a noose, and dead in the center is a single 'gem', the proof of his murder: an eye, unblinking, looking upon Jonathan Sims. ]

You took something of value from Meridian, I took something of value from Zenith, [ the discrepancy between knowledge and knowledge-seeker is inconsequential to a god, after all. ] Why did you take her from me? Why did you have to do that to us? Rudbeckia de Borgia was mine.
warmare: (人でなし)

[personal profile] warmare 2023-05-15 06:08 pm (UTC)(link)
[There is nothing stopping her from lashing out and trying to grab him by the throat to lift him off the root-laced floor. Hayame had thought that, she had realized that...

And now she did it, suddenly lashing out towards the neck the demon bares as if to taunt her, long, calloused archer's fingers wrapping around his throat and utilizing the raw strength of a jinba to not just grab but to jerk, dragging him off the floor at arm's length to force him to dangle in the air.]


Then you tell me his scheme, demon. I will not ask again.

[Did he expect her to believe that he was just some pawn with no plans of his own? That he had nothing to do with what was happening here?]
sharmat: ▸ IT'S NOT A WORLD (pic#12926458)

+1 MURDER

[personal profile] sharmat 2023-05-15 06:17 pm (UTC)(link)
If you feel that he has vital knowledge of the Blight and of Mimsy's magic... (voryn starts, already winded. not eating for fucking days and being sustained by treebark and sheer will takes its toll on a person's stamina.

whew. okay.
)

... Then I believe we should interrogate Mister Tibbs, thereby manually exhausting his usefulness.

Keeping this creature alive would give him opportunities to escape or for others to free him. If Mister Tibbs is crucial to us, Mister Tibbs may be crucial to others—we cannot let him live.
Edited 2023-05-15 18:17 (UTC)
vapour: (pic#15097146)

[personal profile] vapour 2023-05-15 06:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Really? Unless he knows the cure for the Blight and will speak to us, leaving him as is may be the best we can do if you don't want to destroy him. Seems neither here nor there at this point.
bakedapple: (official // cowl)

better me...

[personal profile] bakedapple 2023-05-15 06:32 pm (UTC)(link)
[ There is little in the way of comfort here, in the dead caverns beneath the dead Tree's thick roots. If it weren't for the glowing lichen on the walls, one would be unable to see anything at all. No food, no water, no escape... even the most stalwart among the Meridian would begin to despair in this place, and as committed as Link is to bringing his world back from death, he is not immune to it.

The task they have been given, too, feels nigh impossible, although at least in that case the feeling is unique (to some degree) to Link. He does not know how to convince others to hold on to hope. He does not know how to make them believe in their worlds, of their worth and the worth of all the people who lived in them. A Zenite is a Zenite because they do not care to bring their world back, right? Because a new world has more promise to them than the home they arrived from. And who is Link to question that? He does not presume to know what is best for everyone here. He bears the Zenites no ill will. He simply wants to get back to Hyrule... and the thought of having to slaughter strangers in cold blood to do is still too difficult for him to accept.

Those Bearers who chose to become Effigies offer some semblance of an alternative. Bondrewd caught Link's attention soon after he accepted the deal; he even watched from the other side of the room as the roots bound him in place and flowers bloomed across his emotionless mask and body. Upon hearing his words of greeting once he wanders closer, he takes a seat on the ground before him.
]

If you've already made your choice... why?

[ Why seek out others' thoughts? The question isn't posed out of accusation or skepticism. He is curious. He's willing to tell him, of course, but he must know that the Effigies are meant to be persuaded. ]
redsoil: (pic#16410368)

[personal profile] redsoil 2023-05-15 06:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Believe me, what I actually desire is nothing more than to eradicate him in your honor, Voryn.

[ And John Gaius's. Maybe Kaeya Alberich's, since y'all kind of make up the Tree Gang that he's mildly aware of.

Though. He might not know Kaeya's connection, so take that with a grain of salt. ]


My advice remains to render him penitent. Perpetual service is, [ sighs ], a way to truly extract what Kenos is owed. Death is so very final. Besides, are you saying we are incapable jailers?
redsoil: (pic#16410370)

[personal profile] redsoil 2023-05-15 06:51 pm (UTC)(link)
[ hey bbgirl ;) ]

Do not think in such stark terms, Childe. At the very least, sparing him for now means we may... extract his knowledge, and deal with him afterwards. We would be fools to not utilize everything at our disposal while we have it.

Later, we can imprison him, or put him to death. I will even do it myself, if all wish.
sharmat: ▸ EVERY TIME YOU FALL (pic#16182817)

[personal profile] sharmat 2023-05-15 06:57 pm (UTC)(link)
You never can tell an incapable jailer until their prisoner escapes. Manon escaped us all once, Lord Set. (that slippery eel managed to duck aetós, zenith, and meridian at the interrogation however briefly.)

Perpetual service... there could be a permanent way to keep him working without the possibility of escape. But only if he were to be left in my care, which is unlikely to be approved of.