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
helloween: (056🫀)

+1 SPARE

[personal profile] helloween 2023-05-17 08:44 am (UTC)(link)
Kill Mr. Tibbs? Nah.

[ Dark is not blind to see that this apparently evil, atrocity-committing otter is adorable. Frankly, he also does not care about the severity of the otter's crimes because he, self-absorbed as he is, wasn't here for them. It was probably just NPCs that died anyway. Dark Schneider can't bother to listen to his peers because the idea he's cooking up is vastly superior to anyone's: ]

We'll break him out of there and train him to do cute little flips and tricks like those shows in theme parks back from the Old World. There was an infamous one called SeaWorld™ in the high ancient records left behind. This dude would fit right in, bahaha!
helloween: (018🫀)

III-B

[personal profile] helloween 2023-05-17 09:13 am (UTC)(link)
[ Dark is on his own for now it seems, still with enough power to keep his form intact and prevent him from reverting to his other. Rudbeckia is an unexpected guest, but she certainly isn't an unwelcome one. The man she approaches meets her with a boyish grin, sauntering closer and looming over her frame as if he may very well scarf her down and swallow her whole. ]

Just for now, Ruby? You could bother me more you know. Thought I made that much clear a few weeks back.

[ Now that she has subjected herself to him, Dark reaches out like she is a rag doll (again), grabbing her by the poof of skirts around her small hips and reeling her in against his own. He swings his cloak up and out around Rudbeckia, nonverbally claiming her as his own like a territorial lion and enveloping her in his apparent protection. ]

What happened with Meridian? Did you get bored?

[ Despite the theatrics, Dark follows up with the latter questions shortly after, weirdly casual in tone. ]
baltimores: (112)

cw references to csa, prostitution

[personal profile] baltimores 2023-05-17 09:56 am (UTC)(link)
[ There's more.

Springstar fades the longer they grasp one another's souls, the longer their blood presses up against them, instead taken over by.

Amos' eyes flutter shut as he cooly exhales, tipping his head back.

Because the things he's seeing from Hayame are objectively horrible. He's been that mouth before. He's resided among orphans. My mom, too, he thinks at the impression of Hayame's mom being led away to be fucked, an accidental thought rising to the surface in the moment. It's not quite the same, but the gist of it is. Another thing to have in common. Another vulnerability exposed.

And yet it all seems so meaningless in the moment, pales in comparison to what he's really getting from this.

Because as Amos starts to find himself getting lost in Hayame's memories, the content isn't what he's drawn to. They are horrible; they are hell; he cannot think of anybody he would ever wish such things upon. But more than that... they bring clarity. The Zenith gracing these memories brings with it the sense of finality, the knowledge that everything will come to an end, and there is peace in that. He lets himself fall back into it, be surrounded by it, let it embrace him once again.

This world was hell, and it is no more, and that brings with it a refreshing balm. It's everything he's been missing since afflicted with Meridian, since experiencing a futile desperation for things that are dead and gone and not coming back. His lips part and his fingers scrabble for a grip against Hayame's, digging in almost painfully with the force of gratitude he needs to communicate to her for giving him this again. For letting him feel like himself again.

As he slowly soaks up more of the Zenith within her — more, it's a drug, it's relaxing and cooling and one of the most beautiful things he's ever felt, especially compared to the past few days — Amos' eyes flutter back open, his head righting itself as he seeks her own gaze out. He could kiss her. He could do anything she asks of him, as long as she keeps giving him this.

As long as she takes away the pain he doesn't know how to feel, frees him from constantly trying to reach out for a past that will never come back. ]
helloween: (014🫀)

02.A

[personal profile] helloween 2023-05-17 10:09 am (UTC)(link)
Wolfram?

[ Sieglinde is met by a flat reply when she wakes, Dark's expression unimpressed. The blue of his eyes move down the small stretch of her reaching arm, and after a beat, he sighs before taking her hand in his own. He squeezes it. ]

Is that your boyfriend's name? I thought there were only women where you came from.

[ It doesn't sound like a lady's name, so Dark can only guess that the little witch found a little warlock boyfriend in the woods. Something like that. ]
fishfearme: (intimidating frown)

[personal profile] fishfearme 2023-05-17 11:06 am (UTC)(link)
[Sothis grunted, irritated that Claude didn't snap back like she sort of wanted. She didn't want to intentionally sow discord, but something about this human dug under her skin to a near irrational degree. Perhaps it was because she could feel Byleth's affection for this mortal when last she'd been awake, he'd barely known who this man was! What had she missed whilst asleep? How long was she asleep?!

The uncertainty of it rankled her. This powerlessness, this inability to control her own fate, shackled as it was to a mortal who lacked common sense and was squishy and vulnerable and a well-intentioned fool. She did not fear death, nor oblivion, but she wanted her end to be more dignified than dragged down by the ridiculous choices of her misbehaving vessel!

She still hadn't forgotten the Shez Incident, after all.]


Hmph! In a way he can. His consciousness is suppressed but aware enough to intervene, if he feels the need. [She clicked her tongue.] Such as now... he will not allow me to harm you, no matter how insulting or aggressive you may be.

[This titbit was very grudgingly doled out. Perhaps Claude would be less belligerent, if he knew that Sothis's control wasn't absolute (though she would never admit it in those exact words). Yes, she is in control, but she cannot do whatever she wanted willy nilly. Byleth would interrupt in some way. Frustrating. Just like in the Shez Incident! That Agarthan spawn had backstabbed him and still he had refused to bring his sword to bear! Sothis had wanted to scream.]

Feel free to corroborate with that deranged dog, Dimitri, if you lack belief. I did not harm a hair on his head despite his ridiculous bloodthirst and posturing.
fishfearme: (hmm)

[personal profile] fishfearme 2023-05-17 11:23 am (UTC)(link)
[Sothis wasn't particularly surprised that her non-existent ruse was seen through. She never claimed to be Byleth after all, and why should she act as anyone else but herself? She was The Beginning, the spring and the weir and the dam and the estuary where Time flowed and flowed, endlessly, ceaselessly - Byleth was naught more than a little minnow compared to her. No, there was no point in pretending otherwise, so she didn't bother to put in the effort.]

Whatever do you mean? My vessel is technically present, in a manner of speaking.

[Semi-conscious as well! Not that he would remember the exact specifics of this interaction, but he'd know Sothis had spoken to this person, and likely would interrogate her later as to what she did or said.]

Due to his frail heart, I made the decision to intervene and bear the burden on his behalf. I refuse to have him fall to the corruption, or allow anyone mastery over his heart. So, if you have any schemes to influence us, put them to rest now. I will not tolerate any threats towards my vessel.
passio: (pic#15613711)

fellow meridian :)

[personal profile] passio 2023-05-17 01:14 pm (UTC)(link)
[ dextera remembers silco. dextera does not like silco. he thinks of himself as the type of person not to hold grudges, but he does, and one is held against silco merely for being—difficult. he’s the type of person that dextera is bad against, even before he lost his voice and his best chance at defending himself from the mental pretzels silco’s kind tends to knot him up in, and so he seems both defensive and wary at silco’s “friendly” tip. ]

What about you?

[ it’s not a warm offer to share the supplies; he’s wondering why silco isn’t helping himself. ]
leicesters: (020)

wildcard

[personal profile] leicesters 2023-05-17 01:31 pm (UTC)(link)
[Claude had been wanting to speak to Hayame ever since the incident with Sebastian, but finding time where they can discuss anything in some semblance of privacy is nigh impossible. By the time he finds her in a small passage in the roots, slightly secluded, he's tired and unshaven, the thin antler-like branches growing from his head are starting to rival his wyvern's, but he has, at least, finally purged the Zenith from himself courtesy of Jyn and harmonised with Meridian.

He isn't worried for himself. He knows how to keep out of trouble and survive, for however long they even have time left to survive. He is, however, worried about Hayame, and how likely she is to snap altogether under pressure like Dimitri did.

So when he approaches, he keeps a respectful distance at first. He doesn't want her to feel cornered.]


Hey. Can we talk?
warmare: (眼帯 二)

[personal profile] warmare 2023-05-17 01:58 pm (UTC)(link)
[They're all beginning to show the strain of their entrapment. First the scorching heat of the dying sun, now the dark press of soil and earth under the soulless eyes of the Iconoclast oracle- the effigy marked with the same symbol that is imprinted on the back of Hayame's neck. But it isn't just hair that occasionally obscures that aspect mark anymore. At some point, thin vines that soon withered had sprouted amidst her hair, tangling with the jet black of her mane and tail.

At some point, sometime between stabbing a demon in the eye and now, days later...

Hayame's eyes are slightly wild with paranoia and edge when she turns to the sound of approach, relaxing slightly upon realizing it's Claude, but... not relaxing completely. She can't see everything. There's no telling, he might have turned traitor too when she wasn't looking-]


What is it?
leicesters: (250)

[personal profile] leicesters 2023-05-17 02:25 pm (UTC)(link)
[He leans against a cavernous root, and for once, he's not feigning a smile or good humour. Maybe she'd be grateful for that, if the circumstances were otherwise, he thinks grimly.]

I wanted to see how you were doing. [He's worried about her, truthfully, which he can't do much to hide via communion, being amplified between them as loudly as it is now. He just won't say it outright, lest he be accused of somehow pitying her or thinking of her as weak. He looks across at her, meeting Hayame's eye.] And... I want you to know that, whatever happens, I'm on your side.

[Does a statement like that even mean anything when the world is about to end? Perhaps -- at least, Claude thinks so -- it means more because it could all end at any moment.]
warmare: (真面目)

[personal profile] warmare 2023-05-17 02:34 pm (UTC)(link)
[Good.]

You are not the one who needs to be sorry.

[Technically, she knows he is probably just saying "sorry" to be polite in some way, but she still refuses it, simply and quickly.]

There is nothing to debate with that churl. He will never change his bigotry.

[Despite how often, in recent weeks, she has found herself in conflict with that man... it had never been debate. She had never entertained the idea that she could convince the Chimer of anything... what she had thought she could do was expose him, find herself justified when others condemned him-

But they hadn't. Not the first time, not the second time, and only upon the third, finally-]


But at least you see him with clear eyes. You are not like the others.

[The ones she felt betrayed by, in this faction full of false allies she had been told repeatedly she was supposed to be trusting and embracing. Those who, like ignorant children, were swayed so easily by fancy words or an exotic interest.]
sterngaze: (neutral: tousled)

cw: self harm mention

[personal profile] sterngaze 2023-05-17 02:55 pm (UTC)(link)
[The struggle for the second — or second half of the first, really — Oracle is not going how Liem might have predicted. He'd thought himself dedicated to Meridian's purpose, aligned with it for reasons that couldn't be swayed or circumvented. He hadn't dreamed that his doubt and his despair would return to swallow him up again, to grip him tight until he became desperate for something, anything to rip himself from the swirling vortex dragging him deeper. The battered knife he'd found is a clumsy tool, but at least the pain might wake him up

Liem's reverie is interrupted by the sound of a nearby voice, and not one he particularly recognizes. Tearing his gaze away from his hands, and the pitted blade in them, he looks up to meet eyes even more unnatural than his own. The dimness of the root cavern cannot disguise the strange, oil-slick irises with their rings of white: eyes he has previously seen only from afar, during his activities in Alenroux.

He stares dully at John for a moment, seemingly in revulsion, before finally appearing to absorb what he said. Liem asks evenly, in a voice gone slightly hoarse with misery—
]

What problem would that be?
warmare: (髪弾き)

[personal profile] warmare 2023-05-17 02:58 pm (UTC)(link)
[... She cannot say that she is grateful. Not now, when she is thinking of so many other things beyond his face. But the lack of false smile, wink, or joke at least means that she doesn't begin the conversation with annoyance. At least, there is none of that in the heightened Communion that exists between them now, exposure from the Oracle layered with the connection that had already existed since he had cured her of her Blight.

What is there... is doubt. The words he say should be reassuring, she wants to believe them, but-]


Are you, Claude von Riegan?

[Something flickers in that Communion to tell just what it is she might be referring to- impressions of a certain heated argument he had intervened in without condemning either party. Nearly all of Meridian had been present in that forum... and she remembered intently who said nothing, who continued to converse with that bigot as if nothing were wrong, and who valued playing nice more than condemning that which was despicable.]

No matter what?

[If that demon came for her? If the rest of Meridian abandoned her?

The one eye remaining to her (the one eye now remaining to the one who had plucked the left one from her skull) glints in the dim light of bio-luminescent fungus, staring intently at the man across from her.]
warmare: (侮る)

[personal profile] warmare 2023-05-17 03:17 pm (UTC)(link)
[When he turns to face her, he will find the opposite of his solemn, impassive facial expression. In her one remaining eye is a fury- and not one born simply from duty or allegiance. It is far more personal than that. She allows the silence to stretch out between them, she waits for him to speak first... but her body is fairly vibrating with tension in the interim, her fingers curled into fists.

Fists that tighten when he answers exactly the way she'd feared he would.]


Why?

[Her demand is explosive and immediate, her voice low and dangerous.]

Were you so weak-willed this entire time? All it takes is a little whispering in your ear to turn you to that witch's side?
diversionist: (r1 » aftermath.)

[personal profile] diversionist 2023-05-17 03:26 pm (UTC)(link)
[ sitting across from vash, cassian closes his eyes. his outstretched hand had been dropped once the dams between the two of them broke. he hadn't offered this to vash for the purpose of seeing inside his heart or mind, but he doesn't know how — or if it's even possible — to do one without the other. the trade, without the sharing of secrets.

maybe it's a funny thought for a man who deals in secrets.

he gets his answer to the long ago wondered question: what kind of planet is named no man's land? and the answer is terrible, as he should've known it would be. a desert planet with binary suns, a hard place full of hard people with only bad and worse choices. he feels the ugly and the beautiful, the sacrifices: rem, wolfwood. the hope vash clings to, and it inspires a short-lived glimmer of — rue, maybe. wouldn't that be nice, if vash were right?

and then it's over, and not over. the connection between the two of them still blazes, leaves them open and vulnerable to one another; but the transfer is done. cassian feels calmer, quieted, the balance between meridian and zenith energies tilting towards the moonlight.

he breathes out, and then he opens his eyes. ]


If we survive this, [ finally, ] I'll owe you that drink.
Edited 2023-05-17 15:32 (UTC)
leicesters: (153)

[personal profile] leicesters 2023-05-17 03:43 pm (UTC)(link)
[Without even a moment of indecision, he nods.] No matter what.

[He's well aware they have their differences: she might disapprove of his personality, his efforts to keep the peace, his insincerity, just as he might disapprove of her methods. But he can say that much without hesitation. It's never been about loyalty to Meridian as a group, for him, or about defeating Zenith. So even if both forces turned against her, his answer wouldn't change.]

I care about you, and you're my friend. If the Tree died right now, you wouldn't be alone.
fishfearme: (sad)

[personal profile] fishfearme 2023-05-17 03:45 pm (UTC)(link)
Despite the tempestuous nature of our faction, I've noticed some tend to shy away from open confrontation during Communion. Likely due to the powerful emotions involved.

[Byleth himself might not have intervened if he hadn't chanced to actually pay attention to what was being said. Communion was discomforting for him, but for once Vern's theatrics had ensnared Byleth's puzzled curiosity long enough to actually understand what the heated discussion was about - as he'd been ready to ignore it, thinking it typical horn-locking between two strong personalities.]

But that isn't an excuse to allow such views to go unchecked. There comes a point when silence edges into complicity. While it's true Vern may not indulge in the practice at Kenos, the fact his views of the practice and his supposed inherent superiority remain unchanged is troubling. It indicates a lack of self-reflection and humility.

[Two cardinal sins of a mercenary, in Byleth's humble opinion.]

I don't understand how others could overlook it... it confuses me.
hauntedking: (06)

[personal profile] hauntedking 2023-05-17 03:55 pm (UTC)(link)
I don't think I've ever been here, either...

[ Dimitri comments with a little frown as he glances one way and then another. The atmosphere is a little oppressive; it makes his skin crawl. ]

That sounds like the best idea. We can work our way through the rest... depending on what we find.

[ He turns toward the stairs, hoping that they haven't rotted through... ]
diversionist: (andor » aesthetic hallways.)

[personal profile] diversionist 2023-05-17 04:03 pm (UTC)(link)
[ this event is really just cassian, against his will, accepting the divinity of quetz and set.

which is to say: her blood does make him feel a little healthier, more alert, less haggard. with this as his first trade, he won't know until later how specific this effect is to her; but he can guess, even now. and through their connection, through the communion, he can feel the sincerity of her feelings — her awe, her excitement, her sadness. her power, in the memory of her own: ancient structures and ancient lands, shining over them and the people living there, seeing their lives and choosing to save them, the bad and good.

he breathes out as both sets of memories fade, drops his hand back to his side. ]


It wasn't kind, [ with a slight shrug, ] to most people.

[ and therein lies the problem. it wasn't the ruination of his life, alone, that made him a rebel. and cassian rarely feels a need to explain himself, but he finds himself adding, after a moment, ]

Meridian are not my enemy.

[ maybe it's because of the circumstances of the last time they spoke. but quetzalcoatl can feel the truth of this in their connection. if it weren't choose or die, if it didn't mean taking on the zenith energies plaguing her and other meris he's come to know — he would've gone on, even now, remaining unharmonized. zenith is his best choice, not his favored choice. ]
hauntedking: (11)

[personal profile] hauntedking 2023-05-17 04:24 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Oof. That hurts a little. Dimitri... actually kind of likes Amos, from the few times he's interacted with him (the diplomatic summit aside). He's refreshingly direct and doesn't try to hide behind his words. He just finds it unfortunate that he's devoted to Zenith. ]

...not in that sense, no.

[ He frowns and tilts his head back, his eye falling shut. ]

...I've already traded. And cleared my own head. I know what I have to do for the sake of Meridian.

[ He knows where this probably leads. But he owes it to Amos to at least be just as forthright. They did fight alongside one another, once. ]
diversionist: (andor » finding bix.)

rooted

[personal profile] diversionist 2023-05-17 05:39 pm (UTC)(link)
[ her pain is loud.

and that would be enough to get cassian's attention, even in this crowded space. but not only is her pain loud, but her guilt is of a familiar tenor. it meets, matches, resonates with his own, intertwines with the strength of their iconoclast connection. his guilt lives as a constant undercurrent to his presence, his thinking; the knowledge that he has crossed too many lines and taken too many lives and gone too far beyond the pale to ever hope for redemption. the inherent knowledge that he is cruel, is beyond saving. he hears her pain, and he understands it.

he struggles, too, with the competing energies of meridian and zenith. the burning sun, and the freezing moonlight, coursing like sap through his veins. he feels powerful pangs of longing for people and places gone; he feels endless waves of self-recrimination for his crimes; he struggles with anger and despair in equal measure. he runs pale, exhaustion clear in the lines of his face, hair rumpled and sticking to the back of his neck.

but he's drawn to the cacophony of her misery. he telegraphs his approach, raising a hand to her forearm with a gentle, ]


Hey.

[ an attempt at being gentle, anyway, voice soft. kindness doesn't come to him easily, but he tries. ]

Take a breath.
Edited 2023-05-17 17:41 (UTC)
sterngaze: (Default)

[personal profile] sterngaze 2023-05-17 05:53 pm (UTC)(link)
Possibly... though that would be a sad state of affairs to find ourselves in.

[Especially with the lot of them trapped here, ailing and half-starved and powerless. He'd hope that the current situation might temper the aggression of some of the bolder members of their number, but honestly, it's no guarantee.]

It easier to talk than to act, in both cases, I'd say. If some of us are indeed willing to fight so that Mister Tibbs has an opportunity to speak, I wonder how many would really be moved to violence in order to prevent that from happening.

[It would still be some, he's sure, but... perhaps not as many as one might fear.]
bakedapple: (fanart // gaze)

[personal profile] bakedapple 2023-05-17 06:01 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Link says nothing, digesting the answer to his question without comment, but it weighs on his shoulders heavily. That's the truth of the situation, isn't it? Everything has completely fallen apart over the past month, and this is the culmination of it. A dead Tree, ghost towns, and their allies resorting to senseless violence in an attempt to stop it all. While Link can feel faint traces of Cid's distress through their shared Bond, he will feel a spike in the anxiety coming from Link. Outwardly, his fingers curl tighter against his knees ever-so-slightly, his long fingernails having morphed into a bark-like texture at some point over the past day. ]

Should I be trying to kill you?

[ His voice quivers slightly. He still isn't looking up at him. ]

Or... is all of this pointless after all?
bakedapple: (fanart // sunlight)

[personal profile] bakedapple 2023-05-17 06:16 pm (UTC)(link)
[ At the sight of water, as shallow and cloudy as it is, Link wastes no time. He hurries to the pond, falls to his knees, and cups his hands to bring a mouthful to his lips. If he weren't so thirsty, it would taste pretty bad, but its stagnancy hardly even registers.

For a few moments, Link drinks down several more handfuls of water and does not look back to Dimitri. Finally, he leans back from his knees to sit, panting slightly.
]

I feel like I'm alive again. [ It's enough to make him smile. ] Come here, drink.
redsoil: (pic#16220772)

[personal profile] redsoil 2023-05-17 06:42 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Cassian Andor is a child of war. However many years he has lived, he can only ever be a child before the infinite longevity of a god; he is dependent on the world and its people to define him, to give him reason to climb the insurmountable mountains and carry on with his tired, unrelenting pace as he seeks victory. peace. an end to an empire that massacres and subjugates, that leaves people haunted by their own shadows and bleeds a grand darkness that will pervade even the most just of hearts.

Set sees light cleave a planet, and in the shape of the Communion between them — as they trade memories and sentiment like blows, he cradles the horrible war machine of the empire between his palms and gazes upon it. He is a god of war, and even though he embodies those horrors, his mouth frowns and his brows knit as he holds the star that brings rampant death between the pale curve of his palms and narrows his eyes upon it. Hungry, and hateful. ( 'You must not turn a blind eye to the manslaughter that happens within war... in the end, the curse of those that have died innocent deaths will gather, and it will become your sword, destined to bestow death upon others... That's why my sword is the strongest and sharpest of them all.' )

Cassian needs Zenith. It is not difficult to understand what he needs, given what Set has observed. A place barren of hope, save for that which boils angry and hostile within the man who absolves him of Zenith's calm, collected focus — and in Communion, Set presses his hands to the burning core of Cassian's heart and wills him, faint: Do not let this comfort dull your edges, do not let it claim all that you burned for. Though he knows, in this, Meridian's dream will be purged from him and pressed back into Set's own hands.

Meridian's warmth is the warmth of his son, tiny hands and round cheeks, the milk-soft scent in his hair, the weight of him pillowed across his chest as he dozes in the rays of the sun. It is the plea of a child who would have been able to save himself, had he simply abandoned everything — the father who had loved him, tormented him, and the memories of their life before all went wrong — who chose, instead, to suffer with him. It has never felt more clear to Set in that moment, and it will never again be as clear as it was then, where he belongs. In the shuttered beams of light, pouring between the tawny-gold wings of a falcon-helmed man who holds him at his lowest and vows austerity, support, footprints in the sand at his side.

He feels Cassian with clarity. With the hand that is not slick with blood, he follows the line of his shoulder, and clasps the shape of his face in his palm. With a face bruised from fighting, and tears making a ruin of him ( still lovely, for a he is a god that is beloved in his ruination and misery by so many others — ), he manages a watery, faint smile. ]


ꜥnḫ wḏꜢ snb, Cassian.