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

Dimitri Blaiddyd | Advocate | Meridian

[hauntedking]

I. The Silent City

[ Awakening to this dead world was bad enough. Now he must walk through it. He has ventured down into the city-scape of Springstar to see what can be seen or found and it is all hollow and dead. There is a sick, twisted feeling in his stomach. A sense of hollowness and loss for a place that, whether truly home or not, has been where he's spent much of his time over the last many months. Familiar streets and buildings hollowed out and empty. Windows gaping. The dark stillness that beckons from alleyways or looms beyond crumbled doors. It is unsettling. And above them, the sickly, dead sun.

The fountains are dry. All is gray and silent. The only sound is the wind - if there is any - or the softer sound of footsteps that are swallowed up by the great mass of buildings. As if he was never there at all. It makes his skin crawl, even as he tries to press on through the discomfort that roils and bubbles inside of him. He can be found at the old barracks, to start, rummaging through the place. Although the feeling of being watched makes him want to bolt, he holds his ground - at least until there's another sound, the presence of another life - it can only be another shardbearer - and that's when he glances up. ]

...you are real, aren't you? [ He seems in earnest about that.

He hasn't experienced the whispers of the vengeful dead or his own ghosts in a time... but the memory lurks and here they seem closer than they have in a long, long time. ]

II. The Ritual

[ THis chamber underneath the tree is a terrible, awful place. He knows it. He hates it. Detests. But they are here, they must be, and he can feel the blood (sap) crawling in his veins as they try to make it work. He doesn't know when the last time he slept was. There's no day, no night. Just the staring effigy and the huddled shardbearers. Time drags on and on and there are snatches of thoughts and emotions that could be his own or could be something pressed on him from communion. He doesn't know. It's hard to tell.

But he does have those thoughts crawling into his head. Those flickering, ghosting memories of death and blood, of fire and war. And now, those whispers are back. The voices of the dead, telling him to find vengeance. That he failed. That he shouldn't even try to restore what was lost, because it is pointless. Anyone near him or tapping into his communion will sense the sorrow there - the burning rage that boils underneath the surface and the desire to hurt someone - something. He tries to keep it in check, even as his own doubts and anger continue to fester. ]

It's all gone.

[ The words are spoken aloud from where he's curled against one wall of the chamber, his good eye looking almost glazed over as he tries to peer out into the rest of the room. ]

Everything is gone. What's the point of this? Why bring us to this dead and dying place? Why?

[ He chokes back the words and takes a deep shuddering breath as if he's trying to get a grip. It's harder than it has been in a long, long time. ]

I can't...

[ Another full-body shudder. ]

III. The Purge

[ His blood stirs again, despite his weakness. He knows what he has to do. It is crystal clear in his own mind. He has to find a way back, even now. Even at the end of all things, he must fight. And if that means someone - some people - must die. The Zenith inside of him needs to be expunged - and to do that he needs to trade. Even if a part of him continues to gnaw at him, continues to think about what it is has happened and what has been done since his arrival here. What it all means. Again, his gaze is a little hollow. Tired. ]

...we need to end this.

[ Whatever "this" means. ]

We have to find a way to win. This isn't the end of all things. I know it-

[ Zenith or Meridian, he does need a bit of help. ]

Give me what I need. Please.

[ Although he sounds more than a little on edge. ]

IV. Reach Heaven Through Violence

[ Time winds on. And Dimitri - Dimitri has had some encounters, some wisdom forced into his head. There's only one way this is going to end - with a victory or an ignoble defeat. A repudiation of everything he loves and cares about. The destruction of the world he seeks to return to.

So eventually, if he finds a Zenith, Dimitri's first recourse is to violence. By this point, he is half-crazed, with a wild look in his eye and he is utterly, completely prepared to use his bare hands or a rock or whatever else he has to somehow make the enemy - Zenith - submit.

Approach at your own risk. Or if you're Meridian, stop for a chat. He's not gunning for you. ]

V. Wildcard

[ I've plotted some specific stuff - I'll throw up some prompts under here and/or if you want to make something up, feel free! ]

For Rin

[hauntedking]

[ It's the name that catches him off-guard. He's been aware of her, through the haze, over their time in the chamber. He just hasn't had a chance to speak to her. But someone calls her Rin and she responds and Dimitri - Dimitri tries to put it all together. He waits for her to finish with whoever it is she's speaking to and only then does he approach. He looms, looking haggard and pale, and then finally speaks. ]

Ayako. It... is Ayako, isn't it? [ The tone of his voice makes it clear that he's pretty sure it's not actually Ayako. ]

...what's going on?

[ The communion is full of his confusion, his caution. The mixture of despair and hope he feels. The general warm feelings he has for her have scattered and - instead there's just wariness. Confusion. A sense of dread and anticipation, as if he's bracing for something. ]

[erbe]

[...Ah. This was bound to happen, wasn't it? Tohsaka's feelings mix with a little concern, some pity, and exhaustion. But everyone is radiating how tired they are at this point, aren't they?

With a gentle gesture she suggests they pull away from the crowd.]

Dimitri... let us speak in private.

[hauntedking]

...very well.

[ He doesn't know if it's a good idea or not, but he's exhausted. So why not? He follows - there are still some side passageways that aren't occupied, even if privacy here is still almost an illusion. He draws his cloak a little tighter around himself as he walks. ]

What is it you have to say?

[erbe]

[Tohsaka has spent most of her time stuck here navigating the passages. If something goes wrong she knows which ones turn labyrinthian and which ones run straight to a dead end. As it so happens there is a branch from this one she can steal away into if something happens. What does she expect from this encounter? A sad, puppy dog breakdown in which she'll have to just disappear into the tunnel while he cries it out.]

What you probably assume after hearing that is true. My name is not Ayako.

[She's frank, honest, and true. There's no evidence of subterfuge in the way her emotions seem steady. It probably makes her seem cold, and unfeeling to him.]

[hauntedking]

[ He's mostly just confused. He can... sort of understand giving out a false name. Maybe. But the fact that she'd lied to him is still something of a sting. He gives her a long look, some of his tension starting to burn underneath the surface. ]

...then... your true name is Rin? Why did you feel the need to hide your identity from me? We'd never even met before.

II/III comboish.

[vapour]

[ interesting, he thinks. is that what Zenith does to the once-Meridians that don't understand it or can't relate to it? Makes them see hopeless lost causes rather than undestand moving on from what's lost is an option rather than dying along with it? Childe had to wonder as he has been mulling and contemplating the doubts he had for Zenith and if it really makes sense. Ironically, seeing someone in such a despairing state makes him only doubt even more, but he's also not one to offer words of comfort, mostly because he doesn't know how to when it's someone he can't protect from the harsh reality. In the end, He drags himself up to go wander over and sit next to Dimtri, letting himself slide down to the ground but still managing enough energy to intentionally bump shoulders with him in silent camaraderie.

Even if Childe didn't already like Dimtri, he would still think the same: at the end of days, when in stich a thing like this, does it really matter who would technically be considered friend or foe?

He understands the intent of this is for making a choice in who they are, but somehow it doesn't equate to him as making enemies (at least not yet.) So, if he can offer a little bit of comfort to anyone at all with his presence, he sees no reason not to do so. He just doesn't have the energy to do more than be a presence.

So Childe closes his eyes— only to open them when he hears a change in Dimitri's tune.

Childe hasn't come to understand where he belongs yet, but if Dimtri has made his choice— ]

Hm? You've decided then? Guess it can't be helped.

[ Sounds like Dimitri isn't going to accept Zenith, so he'll need help getting rid of it, right?

Childe will help him out. ]

Let me start pushing you along to where you need to go.

[hauntedking]

[ It takes Dimitri a few moments to really recognize Childe when he bumps shoulders with him. He blinks a little blearily, trying to focus on him through his own haze of confusion and exhaustion and then it finally settles. Right. The one from the castle all that time ago. He doesn't lash out - at least not right now - and the presence of someone else is honestly more comforting than not. He swallows hard, mind still full of the treacherous thoughts about the end of his world. The end of everything he's known and loved.

He can't accept that. ]

...I have.

[ The words come out in a croak. ]

...what do you mean by help?

[ He has a bit of a sense for him through the communion and he stays still for a little while longer, finding a sense of solace in the touch of a shoulder against his. ]

[vapour]

You need to trade, right? I haven't decided, yet, so I can take some of what you need to get rid of. [ he's just too tired. Maybe he can't decide because he was never really aligned to Zenith with conviction or because the Meridian sap just isn't convincing enough to pull him into acceptance but also not ridiculous enough to be dismissed in order to go the other way. ]

[hauntedking]

...if you're willing, then. Yes. Yes, I'll happily give you whatever this is.

[ He doesn't mean to sound desperate, but he wants to be back to his 'normal'. To what he thought was right. And he desperately wants to save his own home. ]

Let's not waste time.

[vapour]

[ Childe can't help but chuckle. The desperation is kind of endearing, actually, he can get behind someone with enough selfishness to make the world move for them, even if it is a little overbearing for him in his current state. To much conviction and the lack of communion barriers makes his determination seep and echo almost painfully into Childe's unusually empty mindspace. ]

By all means~! Not like we've been all rotting here for days already, every second fully counts. [ despite it being Childe trying to lighten the mood, they do both know that unfortunately the last part of what he says is actually not much of a joke at all. Pulling himself forward, he'll reach behind his back and dig under his shirt to drag out his shard. ]

Got anything sharp?

v.

[redsoil]

[ Set comes to him, at the end of things.

Saved, filled to bursting with Meridian's light; it is a terrible thing, manifest in him. A dark heat, the cruelty of the arid sands, the sense of dying of thirst, of biting one's own fingers and wrists to sup upon the only moisture one might have left. Meridian, when residing within Set, is deadly and impartial; it is the long, agonizingly painful walk across rolling sands. It is the way the earth rolls, soft and fluid, below straining muscles. The desire to hide from the light, the urge to dig a hole straight down into the sand and bury oneself in it. It is the slow burning of flesh, the cracking of one's tongue and throat. Death, that does not care.

He reaches down, fingers carding softly through Dimitri's bowed head. Like this, it is difficult to tell what the war god thinks. All Zenith energy has been purged from him. Lingering questions have been discarded, thrown aside in favor of fervor and might; perhaps he will recover, in time. Return to his innate curiosities and chaotic deeds, his yearning for knowledge and wisdom, to bring to others once more. Savant, where Dimitri is Advocate. They will make a ruin of one another; it is careless, how he threads his fingers through Dimitri's hair, and follows the line of his temple down.

Down, to his cheek. Down, to his jaw. Down, to where he can cradle the man's chin in the palm of his hand as he kneels before him and seeks his eye. ]

You can always come back from that place, Dimitri.

[hauntedking]

[ The end is coming; he can sense it. This terrible ritual and purge is finally, finally becoming something concrete. And he has spent the last - what? Has it been days or hours? He doesn't know. He is lost in his own head, driven half-mad by his ow nanger and grief and his own burning conviction that he must save everything; that he must make the effort now or lose it all. Where Set is the heat of desert sands, Dimitri is the raging fury of a tempest; wind and snow and rain and sleet whipped into a violent maelstrom that sows destruction in its wake. No matter what words were said to him, he had made his choice.

To kill, for the sake of the home he misses so dearly. He has been driven to the edge of fanaticism, to madness, to that state he has feared and loathed ever since he clambered out of the darkness. The only reason Set isn't met with a fist or a rock is because he can feel the other is Meridian; an ally in this time of strife, even if he brings with him the buzz and hum of discord that crackles between them. A strange contrast - the Meridian a comfort, the discord something else entirely.

Dimitri feels fingers - gentle - in his hair and then running down his face and he hears the voice and he knows who it is. It cuts into his madness. ]

...it isn't finished yet. [ His voice is a low croak. Hoarse from shouting. ]

I still need to take their heads.

[ He promised all of this to Set, did he not? Although he never imagined he would return to this, even if it had come to war. ]

[redsoil]

No, you need to rest.

[ He has never experienced snow, not until he'd met Hayame and Dimitri. The two of them are cold and bright, frozen storms full of wild heart and maddened mind. How can he not appreciate their wrath, their devotion to nothing short of the absolute eradication of those that oppose them? Softly, softly for a being of war and violence, he lifts Dimitri's chin. To look at him, to examine the dark circle under his un-hidden eye. To push aside limp, sweat-dampened strands of hair with his other hand and cradle his face between his palms. ]

'Killer. Soldier. Penitent. Ruler. Responsible.' I am here, to make good on my promise to you. My shoulders are yours, and my wisdom belongs to you. So, listen close to me —

[ Again, he runs his warm hands along that face. Tracing the angle of Dimitri's furious brow, the exhaustion in him. ]

You have done enough for us.

[hauntedking]

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

We can't fail.

[ The words slip out. ]

We can't-

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

How can it be enough when they still live?

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

[redsoil]

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

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

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

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

1/wildcard

[bakedapple]

[ 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.

[hauntedking]

I wonder if there's anything in there that might be of use.

[ Dimitri is a touch distracted. But... who wouldn't be, in this hellish place? ]

Although the water might be of more importance at the moment. Shall we check there first? Or try the office and then the water on the way back? Kill two birds with one stone.

[ He's trying to stay together. To hold himself up. It's not going as well as he would have liked. ]

[bakedapple]

[ Link is all too aware of Dimitri's fragile emotional state. He might not be the best at expressing himself or knowing the right thing to say, but he can be particularly sensitive to the temperaments of the people around him. The Princess gave him a lot of practice. ]

Let's check for water first. It will help us maintain our strength.

[ Focus on the task at hand. Don't think about the fear and the uncertainty, think about why they're here, and their goal. The door to the Tree's courtyard is just down this hallway. Link quickens his pace, walking ahead of Dimitri to make it to the door before him and pull one of the heavy double doors open by its handle, using both hands. ]

[hauntedking]

[ Dimitri follows, his longer stride eating up the distance and keeping up. He waits as Link tugs on the door and -

Well.

The tree is dead and cold and the water, such as it is, stagnant and shallow.

But there is water. ]

...this entire place makes me feel cold. [ Despite the oppressive sunlight. ]

[bakedapple]

[ 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.

III... possibly into IV

[eyesite]

( it's a harrowing thing to hear anyone say, though coming from an individual like dimitri, as tall and broad-shouldered and molded by violence as he is, it's even more so. john stares up at him warily, his dark eyes both assessing and searching. he can sense the man's desperation — it is, after all, just another name for fear, and it swarms within him now like an infection in the blood. he just takes a moment to try to ascertain whether or not he is yet prepared to wield violence as a means to this end that he's settled on.

he has no doubt he might resort to it eventually. he has, after all, held his deepest fears in his own hands; he has heard them, felt them, and inscribed them onto himself as yet another nightmare to dwell within the Archive.

he doesn't care to make philosophical argument with him. john's concerns have never been that Oblivion can or cannot be reversed — regardless of the answer, he wants to make sure it doesn't come to pass. )

Dimitri.

( he lowly intones his name as a warning. it flashes in the depths of his dark, bottomless eyes as well; knowing far deeper and more intimately than others might. )

Don't allow desperation to push you to do something that you might regret.

( it is what he feared most, wasn't it? to lose himself to the thrill of ceaseless violence again? )

[hauntedking]

John.

[ Dimitri's voice croaks. It's been a long few days. Or a week. It's hard to tell how much time has truly passed down here. He knows he shared with him - the fear of becoming something dark and feral. A mindless killer all over again. He swallows hard, his eye focusing. ]

...I won't regret this. I know what I have to do. I need to get back.

[ To Meridian, he means. He can't stay like this, with the Zenith in his veins. ]

[eyesite]

That's not what I mean, and you know it.

( these past few weeks have been a trial for john even before the visions he'd been given while semi-consciousness in his dissipation had come true, taking the form of the empty, blasted cities they had wandered through before being drawn into this tomb. he's scarcely had time to recover from death, and now... though the Meridian certainly might not understand how or why, that sense of questioning finality and of hope is like salt rubbed into unhealing wounds. john wants to be rid of it just as much as dimitri wishes to be rid of what Zenith leeches into his soul, but he doesn't want to be hasty or foolish in his trades.

he also certainly doesn't want to be physical about them.

he gives the tall, younger man a severe stare before breathing out a sigh. he doesn't want to deny him, especially if he is strong in his choice. but, as is john's wont, he's never much one for giving something away for free. even if it's information — even if it's a story — it's simply not in his nature to do so. )

Take some deep breaths - try to calm down. I'm willing to help you. But — ( some of the harshness fades from his gaze; it's just as deep, just as hungry, but it's bizarrely tempered by the humanity that still remains in him, made soft despite its endless curiosity. his voice drops to a lower decibel, trying to keep the conversation between just them, ) You've told me a lot about your worst experiences of your world... Why is it that you need to go back so desperately?

( one could easily read his question as insidious, if they wanted to. for a man who literally needs to collect the worst fears of others in order to survive, it's understandable to be wary of someone who would demand so much that was so closely personal to others (particularly those they were technically enemies with). but his intention as it is now is pure in that it's exactly what it has been for jonathan sims all along: I just want to know. it's embedded within his psyche that a more complete knowledge of something, of avoiding ignorance or confusion at all costs, will help or shield him in the future.

even if that proclivity has only ever made him into exactly what he is now. )

[hauntedking]

[ Dimitri hasn't yet snapped. He isn't yet an angry, raging man or beast, desperate to win at any cost, even if it means caking his hands in blood. Right now he's just tired, albeit a touch relieved from the clarity that he thinks will come in the future. He returns John's look with one of his own - although his is probably more tired than anything else. ]

I'm calm...

[ For now. He regards John. Knows there's something more to this, knows he's Zenith.

What does he say to him? ]

...because my friends need to be brought back. Because I have a duty to the people I am meant to rule. I will try everything - everything - that I can. Because that is what it means to be a king.