kenoslogs | The Seeds of Unrest: the Iconoclast Oracle

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ cassian andor has watched planets die, hasn't he?

it irrevocably shaped his childhood. he flew himself, and jyn, and k2 and the rest, off jedha as the holy city crumbled into ashes. he held jyn in his arms as burning white light boiled the ocean and turned the sand to glass and vaporized them to stardust. he had enough time, in between, to imagine something not unlike the kenos in which they've spent the last few days.

his blood flows sluggish, sticky and congealing where his skin breaks, and his heart seems to beat in double-time to make up the difference. his emotions and thoughts, usually so tightly controlled, have blurred around the edges and bled into others' heads, and theirs into his. he's felt the growing pressure of both meridian and zenith pushing against his skull, warping his thoughts. some moments he feels so angry it's impossible not to snap at the people around him, that his hands seem to itch for violence; in others he feels so wistful for the galaxy he left behind, the life he buried, a longing for familiar faces that hurts like physical pain. he relives dark memories under the empire's heel, cruelties he saw, experienced, perpetrated in hopes of his gleaming cause. voices he recognizes, asking why would he ever trust yima, asking why he would ever trust cyrus. claustrophobia at this underground space where they've been trapped, restless urges to take his fists to the earth and start digging for a way out. (one way out, he hears a familiar voice intone.)

weighs heavy on him; weighs heavy on all of them. he's paler than normal, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and sap and dirt, clothes and overall appearance as disheveled as the rest of them. but his eyes are clear and as sharp as ever. he sees a familiar face and he beckons, drawing them aside, urging them to sit. the effigy has told them what they can do. he doesn't give a damn about meridian or zenith, he doesn't give a damn about oracles or victories, but he does give a damn about getting them out of this dark place. about the suffering blooming in every bearer around him. he means to say, we can help each other.

he says, ]

I can help you.

Edited 2023-05-14 02:37 (UTC)

[ At times down here, Quetzalcoatl just opens herself to listen. She doesn’t struggle with this as much as others, whether because of her incredibly strong connection to Meridian, her divinity, or some combination of both. Zenith has a hard time latching onto the heart of someone who has destroyed worlds and created new ones in their stead. She’s lived that, and so with it comes the certainty that it’s not yet time.

However, she’s not so disconnected from mortals that she’d simply stand by and watch the other Shard-Bearers’ plight passively. She listens in Communion, finding snippets of horribly sad stories that don’t connect to any mind in particular. So many people are despairing, either for what they lost or what they could lose, and her heart aches equally for them all. She does what she can, as a result. For some faces she recognizes, she’ll go and talk and try and help them through, maybe even trade energy like they’ve been somehow directed to. For those she doesn’t, she just tries to send them warmth through Communion. It’ll be okay, an unseen force seems to say through sunlight and a comforting, reassuring calm.

And eventually, she ends up locking eyes with Cassian. Right away, she brightens a bit with recognition, worried as it may be, because he doesn’t look good. There’s no hesitation as she comes closer, and she opens her mouth to start to speak as she sits, but he beats her to it by a beat, so she pauses. It’s not surprising, what he says. But— ]

…You’re a kind person.

[ She says that first, because it’s significant to her. It would have been phrased differently, of course, but with the gentle worry written on her face, it’s not hard to guess that she was going to say the same thing. He beat her to it, a little bit, but the sentiment is no less meaningful. Like all of the warm words given when she’d been looking for Silco’s name, she’s not used to being on the receiving side of this kind of concern.

Just as she’d done quite a few times with the Blight, she reaches up to her lip to pluck out what had probably just seemed like a piercing. It’s a bit larger in her hand, but not by much. Just a small, vividly green stone that is her Shard. ]

You beat me to saying it, you know. I was going to offer to help you!

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

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

We can call it helping each other.

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

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

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

[ That disbelief just makes her laugh a little despite herself, but it’s nothing but warm and fond. Whether it’s true or not, she takes it as a sign that he’s not used to hearing such a thing, and therefore she’ll have to make sure to point it out in the future when it happens. It is a certainty too, because considering their interactions so far, she feels very sure of it. Even if he might not believe it for himself, she does. ]

Mm, sí, it’ll definitely be better… Zenith in me, it’s like—

[ She shivers a bit, somewhat for dramatics, but not entirely. It does feel wrong as it courses through her, like some kind of force that’s just inherently opposed to what she is. It just might be, considering how much of her divinity was associated with the sun and with hope. But after that, she does look down at the Shard in his hand, then back up to meet his gaze. Her question is simple and clearly non-judgmental, but... She still wants to be sure. ]

Are you sure it’s Zenith you want?

I'm sure.

[ moving right along past the question of his nonexistent goodness!!! his tone is brisk, but certain; the sense of him is honest. this is no spur of the moment decision. he's had all of pelu to think about the factions, to consider which one seemed most aligned with his goals and values, to consider which brings him the most benefit. zenith has drawn him in from the start. its power in his blood sings to him with possibility. meridian has its draw, but it's zenith that he's considered all this time, has agreed with jyn seems like the best option.

and so, now is as good a time as any to harmonize.

he reaches into his coat, draws forth a shard of glass he'd retrieved from springstar earlier. it's a poor weapon, but no worse than any other in the abandoned cities. and it's sharp enough for him to prick his finger upon, then offer his hand for the sap to drip onto quetz's shard. once that's done, he's willing to offer glass shard (if needed) and his hand with the bluish white crystal embedded, for quetz to do the same. ]

[ His certainty makes her a little sad, and open as she is with her emotions normally, that’s not something she could likely hide in the shared empathy if she tried. It’s a gentle sadness, a kind tinged with care and warmth, because it’s how she feels with all of the Zenites she’s met, but maybe moreso for someone who she’s only seen and heard given care to others.

It’s not that she doesn’t understand the allure of Zenith and what it offers. It’s really not hard to. But it’s still forsaking something precious, the way she sees it.

Quietly, she holds out her Shard to accept his blood for the ritual. Right away, she feels the familiar warmth of Meridian move through her, since she’s inherently more sensitive to it as someone who’s closer to a spirit than a mortal body. It’s a balm to that dark and cold Zenith that are so antithetical to a god of the sun and wind, so gratefulness comes with that feeling too. Rather than accept the glass, she just brings her hand up towards her mouth to bite sharp, shark-like teeth into her thumb. Just as effective, if a little macabre, but. ]

Can I ask you, then?

[ She starts to ask as she pulls her hand away from her mouth, but the question is clearly only for her curiosity, because she doesn’t hesitate to bring her hand to his Shard too. As she drips her blood into his Shard, she continues to talk. ]

The place you came from… Is it a bad place? Somewhere you don’t want to go back to?

[ the glass, unneeded (have her teeth always been that sharp?), is returned to the pockets of his coat. and once his blood-sap has dripped onto her shard, he turns his hand so it's easier for her to spill hers onto his shard.

in this heightened communion, there's no hiding the spike of irritation he feels at her question. sharp-edged as it is, isn't really directed at her; and she can probably sense that, too. or, rather, it's not directed only at her. she's one of several to hit this nerve. ]

You Meridian, [ he says, giving his head a shake, as her blood drips onto his shard, ] all assume that everyone has something to return to.

[ lives. homes. families. it infuriates him every time another bearer — meridian, always meridian — ask him about going home, assume he wants to go home, wonder about the loved ones at home he must want to see again, as if any of them are alive. cassian is normally in control of his emotions, but here with communion blurring the lines between their minds, with the powerful connection that they forge between the two of them, the depth of his anger is clear.

not just at thoughtless questions he's been asked here. not even primarily at those. quetzalcoatl can see his reasons for certainty laid bare: can see a galaxy throttled in the grip of an empire, can see imperial officers' total control over the governments, airspace, holonet, news; can see star destroyers whose shadows blot out the sun over planets, dwarf entire metropolises; can see white- and black-armored troopers swarm like ants over planets, over settlements, quelling the softest breath of insurrection in their wake, crushing cultures, crushing populations.

an old woman's voice, the empire is a disease that thrives in darkness. and, it's easy for the dead to tell you to fight, and maybe it's true, maybe fighting is useless.

cassian's own voice: kill me, or take me in. and living as one with nothing but the cause, with no ambitions but the cause, with no reason to live but the cause: be given orders, execute orders, return for more, keep going. keep going, because the empire is unfathomably powerful and they are not; because they are always short-handed and the empire is not; because he cannot live with himself doing anything less, because he hates the empire with all his soul, even as he takes his own soul in both hands and shatters it, because —

meridian would see his galaxy restored, would see the empire restored, would change nothing even as its horrors consume countless planets. because zenith would let him change that, would bring hope where there is none, meaning where there is only tragedy. and so it's with perfect willingness, that he sees meridian's warmth drain out of him, that he takes the dark cool moonlight from her. ]

[ Her smile softens in apology at the spike of irritation, but it’s not a total surprise. It’s not specific to Cassian himself, but she thinks that it’s probably how most people inclined to Zenith must think reflexively, and especially so with his terse explanation. If you don’t have anything worth going back to, then of course it would be insulting.

Even with his answer, she doesn’t hesitate to bring her hand over his Shard as well to allow the gentle drip of her blood onto his Shard. It’s a slightly different sensation with her blood, even with her ability stripped away. With it comes a sense of better health and vitality, though it won’t last down here as long as it might normally. She’s a god of Creation who had made humanity with her blood, after all.

But as she gives her blood and feels the relief of sunlight flooding back to her, she “listens”. The visions and memories come to her, and she sees his reasons. It’s a world beyond even her divine imagining, a world that returns to the stars that she’d come from. Part of her is a bit thrilled for that because it’s an incredible feat! But— No matter how they seize and shape teotl, people would always be imperfect. They would always been drawn to the worst tlatlacolli, the failings that make the world that Cassian unintentionally shares. ]

Mm, I’m trying not to, at least.

[ Cassian isn’t the first Zenite (or, Zenite to be, in his case) that she’s talked to that scorns their world completely. She and Silco had talked about it a fair bit at this point, after all. However, what she sees and feels from Cassian is different. Silco clearly loved his world, or at least a part of it. There were parts that he despised, and maybe that was even most of it, but he would still be destroying something he cared for in the process.

Cassian, though… That isn’t the sense she gets at all.

It’s sad, of course. But there’s an old, complicated sort of nostalgia that comes through as well. It’s nothing so grand as the world that Cassian shares, just a brief sort of vision of Quetzalcoatl standing at the top of a pyramid that would surely seem more than ancient to him. Power thrums through her veins, hot as the sun, because she was the sun, and as she looks down at the ancient city below, it’s just a simple question on her mind—Is this worth saving?

She laughs a little, realizing that he’d surely feel that memory too, just as she had felt his. She draws her hand back to rub her thumb against her poncho to clean off some of the blood-sap, but she looks at him as she talks. ]

I do understand it. [ As is probably obvious now, but. ] It’s not my domain, obviously, so I can’t take any credit for making or unmaking it! But still… I’m sorry that your world wasn’t kind to you.

[ 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. ]

EXPLORATION

NOTES

NOTES

NOTES

✨ vash, quetzalcoatl, set

comes out swinging bc i promised

BLESS

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✨❤️

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cw for self-harm

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arrives, vibrating out of my skin

viBRATES TOO, cw for self-harm

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1/2

2/2

1/2 cw sad children and allusions to sexual assault

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ENTER KEY

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