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

[redsoil]

Truly, it is a decision I favor.

[ And why would he not! Some individuals are better off Zenites, and some are better off Meridians, and some could fairly walk either path — Sebastian, he feels, ought to never be granted the power of 'light' in any capacity, lest it unmake him at his core. What a stupid end that would be, too. He's counting on the demon to be entertaining at all times, until some manner of, what?

An "end"?

Are the two of them even capable of ending anything? It remains to be seen, if they are even capable of tiring of one another. Maybe then, there could be an end in sight. For now, Set parks himself right there along the maimed demon's body ( rip silco ) and engages him in a little conversation. About sides, and agreements. He does not even swat at that errant hand, sorry to anyone who looks over. As if being observed in Sebastian's presence is as much a thing he wishes to show off, and to allow them to draw conclusions over, as it is for the other. ]

You may believe that is what I want from you, if it finds you purchase in me.

[ He's not entirely stupid about words like this, just new. With Sebastian, he always feels like he lives in an eternal dance, sharp and ready to be brought to bear at any moment, and lowered in the next. Set feels if he were to name something concrete that he desired, some end goal, it would give Sebastian leverage over him; if Sebastian does not require a contract, and instead just continues to dabble in them like the masochistic perv he is, that's his thing! ]

For now, to be taught by you and provide you with someone to teach is good enough. I do not know if we would be any good, if we locked ourselves into a contract together.

[ But, he allows Sebastian to know that he has considered it. ]

[warmare]

[All he can do is tilt his head into her touch, but that's... that's all he has to do. Her fingers follow the line of his jaw, curiously brushing over the hair on his face, lingering over where the corner of his mouth curls upwards in his smile. It seemed like such an easy expression on his face, like the muscles there remember how to make that expression... and for a moment she almost envies him. She almost thinks there can't be something wrong in him, because at least he knows how to smile. At least he has reasons to smile.

With the bond fast and fresh between their shards, she even almost thinks that maybe he'd been sincere, when he called her a friend. She almost thinks that maybe they could be that, despite the fact that they might need to kill each other for the sake of their goals. But down here, in the dark with only a faint, soft glow...

Her half-smile almost makes it all the way to a full one.]

If you managed to figure it out, I suppose I would have to honor your efforts and try going to space.

[If she was indulging in a fantasy this grand, this impossible... why shouldn't it be one where she isn't completely terrified by the idea that the night sky was a huge, empty expanse of black and stars? She'd been raised believing that the stars were the lights of the heavenly field of gods, not a place that mortals might ever tread.

But what he said next... her smile falters. Her expression softens, turning inward, and she knows... She knows she shouldn't be indulging in this. She had sworn that she would be the most stalwart Meridian of them all to make up for the weaklings among them, that she would kill whoever she had to... but there is just enough Zenith energy left lurking in her hearts to whisper what if you lose? What if you lose this Oracle, and the next one, and the next... And if that happened, if there came a time when she had to face the possibility of never being able to return to her world where she belonged...

Her voice is quiet when she finds it again.]

... Will you save a place for me?

[If Meridian's cause was lost, if she only came to him in the final hour...]

[cutlery]

[ Sebastian gives a nod towards Silco at his answer, though his eyes are on Set. There’s just a little bit of a sly smile, since at the very least now that the partnership between Sebastian and Silco is known, it also means he can defer to his master without question. Silco’s will is his own. Mostly, at least.

Which, as Silco starts to head towards the foreman’s office, Sebastian stands and shakes his head. ]

Flesh, certainly, and something else that I do not recognize.

[ It’s not entirely surprising after long enough in Kenos. It’s still frequent enough that he comes across something completely new or different to what he’s used to. So, even his sharp senses can only go so far as his knowledge. ]

Nor do I know what kind of flesh, I should say. When reduced to ash, it is all the same.

[ He shrugs, since he doesn’t expect they’ll have a problem with that elaboration. They’re both their own brands of Terrible to not really care why that’s something Sebastian is aware of. ]

[epiprocta]

[ Vaguely, he wonders if this guy is something other than human. Because he's been in his fair share of scraps and brawls by now, but that grip squeezing down at his wrist is still something special. He can feel his joint creaking under the pressure, the fine bones of his wrist and hand grinding together until his nerves are shrieking, and he almost loosens his grip on Dimitri.

Almost.

It's sheer, stubborn spite that instead has him lunging forth. His weight crashes heavily into Dimitri's back -- his balance still compromised as his breath comes uneven -- but at the same time, he jerks forth a fold of Dimitri's roomy cloak to snag over Dimitri's face. A dirty trick to be sure, but what else is he supposed to do when he doesn't have access to magic and he can't win by brute force? The metal of his prosthetic arm makes for a stronger, more unyielding grip when he coils it around Dimitri's neck from behind in an attempt at a chokehold. And while he knows it probably won't last long, he at least has to try.

Ruby's plea goes unfortunately unheard; even a glance makes it obvious that Gen's lost to the adrenaline rush at the moment, his eyes wild as he struggles to maintain a hold on Dimitri. ]

[hauntedking]

[ There's a yell from Dimitri as he's temporarily blinded and he loosens his grip to try and clear his vision, swiping his hands up to get the cloak out of his eyes. He can feel the grip against his neck as well and he leans into it - and turns in place to try and ram Gen into the wall. It's either that or lose his grip.

Either way, Dimitri's determined to shake him off. ]

[warmare]

[She bends down a little more, to him.

Her remaining eye closes as his fingers seek out and find the simple binding on the high tail she wears her hair in, releasing it over their bodies in thick, dark waves that have lost the usual pleasing scent of camellia oil to the scorch of dying suns and the damp of root dirt. With her mane released... it is easy to find that ruby streak amidst the jet as she slowly presses her cheek into the hold of his palm.

For a moment, she doesn't say anything. She doesn't do anything. Her breath is warm on his shoulder, along his throat when she tips her head. It's quiet where they are, and it almost quiets the chaotic press and swell of communion bleed-through that has dogged them all since this damned ritual began.

But eventually she moves again, setting the lacquered wooden comb at the base of her skull and dragging it through her hair on the opposite side of Set's hand. Her mane is long, kept long for years by a stable master that preferred his mares to be able to wear the fashionable styles of a lady, as if they were ladies and not chattel. It takes time. When she finally pulls the instrument free... then she has to straighten up slightly, just enough to find the top of his head and begin to comb down, comb her worship into him.]

I give you the demon Sebastian Michaelis, whose eye I took in exchange for mine.

[It wouldn't stay gone, and she hates that, just like he hadn't stayed dead in the dryad wood, but at least it would be a reminder of her paid debt so long as they were trapped in this place. If she were lucky, the rusty spearblade she'd used to stab it out will have left an infection.

Another strand of black, another strand of red.]

I offer you the poorly named "King Undying", who betrayed Meridian only as long as he had a head.

[For all his boasts, his skull had cracked and splattered in her grip just as easily as any human's did. The sound of the comb is soft, her touch gentle and smooth... but when it comes to the next...]

I give you Liem Talbott, who betrayed [me, he betrayed me-] Meridian.

[Liem, had been so weak in the mind that he had put the dagger to his own chest and asked her to help him finish the job. But she wouldn't do it for him. She refused to let him shame himself by being unable to even end his own life. She'd made him bleed himself before she snapped his neck and ended his suffering.

All of the violence she has waged since the roots had claimed them. It is his now.]

[intervener]

[ his wiggling fingers are still beckoning her closer...... c'mere. C'MERE. ]

Why's that?

[ he is curious about her reasoning and where it comes from - but after seeing a taste of the world and circumstances Rin comes from, well... suppose he has a few guesses. ]

[bakedapple]

[ Link, in contrast, is anything but calm. The Meridian seems to energize him, uplifting his drooping spirit and invigorating his body. He leans back and blinks rapidly, as if slapped in the face by some unseen hand.

While Cid's thoughts flow into his mind, his own flow back in the same direction. Most prominent is his vigorous, desperate yearning to make things right — not just for his own world, but for everyone else's, and for Kenos. It is a feeling derived from both genuine love and an intense, innate devotion to protect others. The echo of Nero in Cid's head is met with an echo from Link's mind, too — a beautiful young woman with straw-colored hair and big green eyes, smiling shyly like she's trying to hide her adoration and doing a poor job of it. But it isn't just her that Link longs to see again. There's a tall fish-like person smiling daringly at him, a young dark-skinned girl with one hand sassily propped on her hip, a second young woman too embarrassed to look Link in the eye but trying her hardest to talk to him anyway... and others too, dozens of them, countless people, strangers and acquaintances alike. The weight of every single one of them bears down on his shoulders.

The rush of the Meridian does not give him peace, nor has it dispelled all of the Zenith infecting his Shard. If anything, his brain is busier and more confused than ever. Link squints and shakes his head, as if that might somehow give him some relief, but of course it doesn't. He does not offer his own thanks. ]

[bakedapple]

No, of course not. And you won't hurt me either.

[ There's no right? at the end of that sentence, because Link says it more to reassure Lucien than to reassure himself. It might sound strange, and even a little selfish, but having a person to help in some way — even if it's just talking to him, helping him feel more safe — helps to ground Link among all the chaos.

He smiles at Lucien again, shaking off the temporary discomfort he felt a second earlier. Gesturing towards the ground, ]

Can I... sit here? Do you want to talk for a while? [ Firmly: ] I won't let anybody hurt you.

[diversionist]

[ he shifts somewhat to make room for her, give her space to sit comfortably without being too close — from what he's seen of her comfort already. his eyes flick to the bracelet at her nervous gesture, though he doesn't ask. he simply sees; noticing things is, after all, his business.

though she takes him off-guard with her question. stupid, he chides himself a moment later. it's not an unreasonable question, and he knows her for an astute woman, from their previous encounter. he recovers quickly, hitching a smile onto his face as he shrugs. (insincere, of course.) ]

I hadn't. [ then, ] I still haven't picked a side. What I feel is both of them, I think.

[diversionist]

[ he isn't hard to spot. the ritual chamber is large, of course, and full of people. cassian andor isn't the biggest man, and he's well-acquainted with keeping himself from being too noticeable. but that isn't his goal now. he's perched on some stone or other, glancing idly in her direction as he 'speaks.' not an intense stare — for all that intensity radiates off him, generally — and one he switches with glances past her towards the oracle. the way he knows she's closer, see. if they make eye contact, he briefly raises his brows in acknowledgement.

thanks, he nearly answers, when she goes on. and earns herself a wave of bafflement. ]

Excuse me?

[diversionist]

The mage who experiments on Shards,

[ he recalls, eyebrows drawing together. he arrived in kenos after the manon business, wasn't aware of vander's kidnapping or rescue till later. everything he knows is anecdotal, but damning. it'd been byleth who'd talked about aetós's office and the books they found there, on communion. cassian had never heard the mage's voice before, but he isn't likely to forget it now. ]

Even they stand to lose if this world is destroyed, [ he muses after a moment. ] Whatever their goals, they can't accomplish them if everyone in Kenos is taken by the Blight.

[diversionist]

No, [ he agrees, ] we wouldn't.

[ he's never gotten very far, asking the shard-bearers who have been here longer than him about the oracles. vague answers, vaguer terms. objects of great power that, once collected, will grant either side their goals. a restoration of all the lost worlds; or new and changed worlds, better suited to their desires. supposedly, that's what meridian and zenith will give the shard-bearers. but how do they know? what is the cost? he hasn't had much interest in joining a side, these months here, because he still doesn't know what he'd find himself supporting.

he scoffs in response to her question, a disdain curling through his eyes like smoke. has there been anything more solid than just a promise? ]

Meridian, they have their beads. Zenith, they get things from Yima. None of it is proof.

[ linked as they are through communion, gamora can hear an echoed memory from his arrival. cassian saying, i like to make decisions based on facts, not wishes and beliefs, and hayame responding, those are in short supply here, you will find. you do not have to believe it is true to join either faction. but that is what you will be standing for if you do. ]

[bakedapple]

[ Sebastian's gloved hands almost make Link jump in surprise. Next to his own hands — which are dirty by the way! super filthy fingernails! have fun with that Sebastian haha, ha, , — they look so large and pristinely clean. Almost inhuman, Link thinks to himself for some reason.

But even putting that aside, the old young Hylian isn't used to being touched by others, even in this most harmless of ways. So he leans ever so slightly away from Sebastian upon feeling his touch, trying to focus on what's being shown to him. He hesitates after the pop, but he follows the graciously provided instructions, and in a few seconds he is engrossed again in the phenomenon that is Can Opener Opening a Tin Can. ]

There's — this is food inside? [ Mind-blowing. He peers into the ajar lid, not yet pushed all the way upward as the can opener still attached to its side. ] How did it get in there?? This is made of metal, isn't it?

[bakedapple]

[ There is a moment of quiet following the question. Link looks almost serene, leaning back against the wall with his eyes closed — if one were to stumble across him as he is now, he might appear to be asleep at first glance. But his mind, his soul, the inner space that swirls around and within his Shard, is anything but calm. Perhaps it's a good thing John was to talk before doing the Trade. Link can still attempt to play the part of a hero who has everything together, struggling with nothing more than a blip of strife in the course of his destiny. That's the person he knows he needs to be, and is trying to be, even in this horrible situation.

John's question is a fair one. Link didn't include any of those details in what he wrote to him. He'd asked for his fear, after all — not his baseline, his "normal." ]

...if you're picturing a war-torn world... well. I guess that actually is an accurate way to describe it. But it's not... it isn't all fire and death. I've been told that there was a time when Hyrule was like that, for years after the Calamity happened, but the Hyrule that I know is...

[ He trails off. Words are not his currency. He doesn't know how much schooling he received when he was a boy — those memories are gone, and probably lost forever — but he knows he's no scholar. The hero has no use for a silver tongue, so perhaps that's why the Goddesses chose not to bless him with talents of persuasion. But... there are many moments where he finds himself needing words anyway. Like right now.

Opening his eyes, he looks up at John, his exhaustion softening his gaze. ]

...it's beautiful, actually. Lonely and scarred, and full of monsters, but green... blessed with trees and animals. Enough time has passed for nature to return. [ He glances away. A part of him senses that he's done a poor job with describing it. Hyrule means so much more to him than that.

If there's one thing he does want John to know, it's this. ] It isn't a dead world, if that's what you're imagining.

[erbe]

[Like a stubborn cat she stays where she is. Planted (hah) in her spot. However her guard eases up, and her sour expression softens.]

Well, it just makes logical sense. You can create something new with base materials and a catalyst, but bringing back something that was once lost? In perfect condition? It sounds impossible to me. What ways could it be accomplished? Would time be reversed to the point in which the worlds were not destroyed? Would the worlds be resurrected with necromancy? Or would the fragmented pieces be put back together?

I wouldn't be able to stand the thought of such cracks overlapping with the people I knew. The idea of being able to feel the ways in which they were "wrong"...

[affal]

( there is no more honest and clear of a deal than this, separated from the world and devoid of any other extraneous or tangential factors. and perhaps it was the best sort of interaction that one could hope for between them, as they were two very different individuals with very different ways of viewing the world (or worlds, as it were) around them. Meridian might come to appeal to gamora because she fostered magnanimity that makoto had long since become fallow to — compassion and generosity were virtues very nearly punishable by death (or far worse) in Hell, so they had been weeded from his formerly-human brain over his last few years. it's not that he's incapable of endeavoring for another, but he needs to be duly incentivized — just like when contracted to a human, he would go to any and all lengths so long as the beleaguered soul gave forth into gold at its conclusion.

so the real question he has to consider now is: would trading some of his Meridian energy for her surplus Zenith be something that would benefit him?

hm...

he nods, seemingly accepting her selection swiftly and without much resistance. )

Is it more that you reject Zenith, then? Rather than succumbing to a yearning for home?

( it's small-talk, really; he's just curious. he reaches to the back of his neck to pull away his shard from where it lodges into the divot at the base of his skull; a dark wine red, it seems nearly black in the dim light but for the bizarre lines of glinting gold that seem to hold its two halves together.

an injury to his soul he had to thank his time in horos for, apparently. )

ok but MY heart will hurt??? DID YOU THINK OF THAT AMOS???

[muchalucha]

[ The way that he chooses to phrase it breaks her heart a little, but it only comes out as deep sympathy, an impulse carried through their minds that she wants to reach out to hug him close— But, clearly, she refrains. Gently, she just places her other hand over his to give it a little squeeze as she nods. ]

Okay. I’ll help, sí.

[ She removes her hand again to reach up to her lips, and in the familiar process of removing a Shard, removes the little gem that Amos might have thought was just a piercing. It’s small for a Shard, even though it’s bigger when it’ll fully in her hand. Yet, looking at the brilliant greenstone, it does come with a sense that it’s dense for a Shard. Maybe that’s part of it being so small? Who knows? ]

It might be metiche, so you don’t have to answer… But did your heart really not hurt before?

[cryomance]

[ She knows some aspects of Diluc's and Kaeya's rift, but she's never drilled Kaeya extensively on it nor has peered any deeper into his thoughts than surface-level out of respect for his privacy. The curiosity has occasionally pricked the back of her mind but not enough for her to actively pry. ]

Some things here and there. Rest assured I'll keep it to myself.

[ Considering how silent and clandestine she is about her own usual nocturnal activities, he should know he can trust her. ]

As for me, probably nothing you already don't suspect.

[ As much as she doesn't like dredging up her own past, there isn't anything all that deeply surprising about it. Most already know she's not a true Mondstadt native and that she's had a more troubled upbringing than most, especially those involved with the Knights of Favonius. Besides, she doubts Diluc would use any of it against her, considering the both of them are quite similar in nature and personality. ]

Now that that's settled, give me your shard.

[ She's already rooting around her own lower back to pry hers loose from its resting place. ]

[youngprodigy]

[It's impossible not to be swayed by the images. Cid had been a driven, determined man at one point. Optimistic, even.

He's not that man anymore.

But he can understand, empathize even, even if Cid has no hope himself.

For a while, it seems like he might not speak again, but eventually he does.]

The Meridian I gave you isn't helping.

[There's a twinge of worry in his voice, which he looks baffled about as soon as he says it, but he doesn't take it back, merely looking at Link with more concern than he'd care to admit to.]

[cryomance]

[ Why does he have to look so miserable? Childe will return soon enough –hopefully in a better state of mind. She'd much rather deal with Childe being his usual irritating self than having him be sad and self-pitying.

And even though she made no further promises to the Fatui, she does end up doing what Childe asked anyway. ]

He said not to blame yourself for this, and you shouldn't. He simply fell victim to the blight.

[ Not even she could overcome its influence without nagging the Meridians for assistance. She's not proud of it, but she's deeply attached to having her own agency. The tree's infection can only take so much else from her.

She presses the shard into Zhongli's palm after and closes his fingers around it firmly, considering her job here finally done. ]

Don't mope. Revive him, and say whatever you need to say to him.

[affal]

( yes, it is both dismissive and optimistic, and therefore extremely annoying.

makoto looks up at dark with a positively withering glare, grateful that the man had chosen to remove his hand from his shoulder before he had decided to get a little more experimental with the blade that he had found. ironically enough, dark isn't necessarily wrong — textually he would one day figure it out and get there, but it just feels a little demeaning to be spoken to like that... )

... No, I suppose not. ( his hand lifts to the side of his neck, the pads of his fingertips lightly tracing over the careful suturing as if to check that it was still orderly despite all that had happened. ) So long as that is the characteristic that drew the comparison. And not something like... mindlessly shambling around in search of fresh brains.

( not that he would ever turn down a fresh brain, but?? he wouldn't do it mindlessly, and he wouldn't shamble. )

So, is there anything you're up to out here besides trying to give people first-degree burns?

[epiprocta]

[ Whatever smug satisfaction he feels from hearing that startled yell is very rapidly squelched when Dimitri reels forward, then smashes back into the nearest wall. The physical impact immediately purges every last breath of air from his lungs, his ribcage creaking from the pressure, and that chokehold on Dimitri does release as Gen staggers and slips.

Only to claw his fingers into that long, blonde hair on the way down.

A spiteful, breathless laugh escapes him between ragged gasps, and Gen abandons all pretense of dignity as he tries to claw at Dimitri, to inflict even a little more damage upon him while he can. ]

[cryomance]

[ So two. Optimistically, two would be fine. She thinks she knows who else she can track down if she needs an alternate, but she'll tuck that thought to the back of her head right now. She needs to focus on cleansing what she can immediately, making the quick exchange so they remain on equal footing: a shard for a shard.

She draws her dagger out with her other hand next and cuts her own palm while still clutching Hayame's shard in her grip. The blood oozes out immediately, lightly soaking the underside of the shard before she holds the dagger out for Hayame to go next. ]

I dreamt of my own world fracturing like this before I'd first woken up here. Thriving one moment then shattering to pieces in the next. I don't know if we'll be able to stop it, but I want to be of sound mind. I did nothing to help my own world when it happened.

[ She doesn't have the presence of mind to stop herself from speaking right now or admitting that some part of her is afraid of this blight escalating and of losing herself and everything around them again. ]

[cryomance]

[ What world does this man live in that he gets propositioned regularly on the street? ]

I assumed you had enough sense to parse that for yourself. I gave you too much credit. Of course, I'm a Zenith.

[ Was a Zenith. She's not sure anymore if that's the case. Her thoughts are still too scrambled, and Cyrus' voice still overpowers any other over Communion along with a hymnal prayer from her fallen sisters about hope. Endless, transcendental hope. ]

Before you ask, I'm not here to sell you on changing allegiance. I only want to return to my own.