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beleos ([personal profile] beleos) wrote in [community profile] kenoslogs2023-08-18 09:53 am

Toxic Love: The Exalt Oracle


NOTHING GOES OFF WITHOUT A HITCH
You feel it, the moment that the Exalt oracle opens its eyes, like something that rips through your body from head to toe, something that feel like fire, wild. It sears into your veins, like acid and fire, something that triggers something that makes you want to run, or perhaps turn and face something head on. Before you can find what sets you off – if you could find it. Bearers know what this sensation is, it is different but the same at its core. The emotions, the feelings it sparks are different – but in the end, you know it for what it is: An Oracle.

Kenos groans from the awakening, like a part of a whole sparks to life, and though you do not know what it is that they want yet, you understand and know their existence down to your core. That feeling to attack or defend, perhaps even flee, does not leave you, but instead it fills your veins, you feel it thrumming, pulsing, like the beat of a heart – if one has one. With the sense of awakening, bearers know the shape of what comes next, they will be asked to act, to do. You do not know how it will happen, or what the Exalt will ask of you, but the knowledge that it will happen is borne from experience, not from the Oracle itself.

As you begin to move, to… look, you are not long for this day, it clouds your mind, a hazy, drowsy feeling takes over, the encroaching dark that threatens to swarm, crowding from the sides, taking over your vision – until… it fully takes over, and Bearers are put into a deep slumber.


When bearers awaken, it’s difficult to make sense of what your sleepy eyes see. Structures begin to swim into view, and they like tall figures looking down upon you. It’s difficult to tell what they are at first, but as you wake up, you begin to see, they are not people, or creatures, but long spore-like stalks. Some have ribbed overgrowths that you can see, and some end in growths that ripple and hang over, but have no “cap”. They tower over the bearers, like towering spires and buildings, on all sides, as if they were trapped in a ring of them. As bearers look around them they will notice tall green spires around them as well, and it takes a moment for things to really settle in. Mushrooms. Blades of grass. The springy moss about them is almost as tall as they are, low to the ground. There are pebbles that appear as boulders, and the thunderous steps nearby indicate an insect or arachnid walking by, far larger than you. There is a stillness to this space, like a held breath, and as the bearers awake, and regard one another, and then to the center of the circle is – a small effigy in the center.

It is here, the Exalt Oracle, and you feel compelled to regard it, before you are given a pang down to your core. It compels you – pleads, asks, begs, and demands, all in one – for what it wishes for. Precious mementos and precious items that they are missing. They have been lost, and they are somewhere within the Liosachán. It beseeches the bearers to return its items, and begs they be returned here to the circle. There are no words, but there is a pleading sensation, a feeling that these items are treasured by this Oracle.

You feel at your sides, your pockets, and find one item on your person, a weapon, a companion, whatever it is you would bring with you to the conflict, shrunk down to a tiny size with you.

Stay steadfast, bearers, and capture the flag Oracle!
SURVIVAL OF THE SMALLEST ( DAYS 1 - 5 )
Unlike the still, stale apocalypse that had been the setting of the Iconoclast Oracle, the greenhouse is lush and vibrant with activity.

The Effigy present within yearns to be reunited with what belongs to it, fixated upon the five items lost within the greenhouse. The swell of its longing fills all Shardbearers, urging them to take action, claim the items and present all five to it to attain victory for that Faction.

Over a period of ten days, Shardbearers of both factions will have to navigate environmental dangers, and the normal procession of time, as the greenhouse is going about its daily routine. Workers plod around like towering goliaths, weeding and watering and pruning the greenhouse's contents. The Liosachán's native population of fae begin to take notice of the newcomers in their midst, emerging from grassy mounds hidden in the natural landscape to spy and pry about the newness surrounding them.
Naturally curious, and equally dangerous, the fae of the Liosachán are Highstorm natives. They range in cool coloration, from soft violet-greys to deep stormy blues, and wear clothes fashioned from of goods pilfered from the pockets of workers, dropped on the ground or handcrafted from the environment itself. Wielding bits of copper tightly wound into blades and spears, they are a ferocious and cunning little people who seek to trick, trap and toy with Shardbearers. Direct violence is anathema to them, but violence that happens as a result of falling to one of their ploys is a badge of honor.
DAY ONE - THREE. The Effigy initially urges Shardbearers to build bases of operation for defense and practicality, as surviving ten days without supporting one another is a surefire way to meet a grisly, tiny little end. Resources must be gathered: gather food and water, prepare shelter, establish unity and organization and prepare to set off into the wilds soon.

For Shardbearers demonstrating particular selflessness, favoring the protection and defense of another, the Effigy responds warmly from the third day onward — rewarding them with a sign of their dutiful nature towards others in the form of fairy wings, the form of which are unique to the Shardbearer themselves.

DAY FOUR. The sudden thunderous sound of a storm begins. No, not a storm, the tumble and crash of water pouring down upon the greenhouse — the workers of the Liosachán perform their routines faithfully, after all. In watering the garden, the danger of the environment threatens to overtake Shardbearers and their work alike. Drops of water fall, their size equal or larger than even the tallest of characters, and trickles of water muddy the ground in the form of raging rapids.

The security of Meridian and Zenith's camps is even called into question, because as simple as the act of watering a garden is, it is a nightmarish situation for such itty bitty Bearers to be in!

DAY FIVE. By day five, the fae of the Liosachán no longer lurk and linger in the corner of one's eye. They make themselves known, having prepared a banquet below one of the mushrooms, within sight of the Effigy. A table draped in spider-silk lace awaits any Bearer who comes near enough, the sagging piece of driftwood polished to a gleam with golden sap, leaving it waterproofed and pretty to behold. A handful of corks serve as seating, with most of the fae draping themselves across scraps of cotton as though they are simply at a picnic.

They invitingly wave to Shardbearers, chattering brightly in their foreign, lilting tongue, waving tiny sandwiches and little clay pots full of jams and honeys, brandishing sugared berries that they bite into with gusto, staining their arms and faces in swathes of blue and red. They clearly are welcoming to whomever comes upon them, urging them to avail themselves to the bounty they have prepared. Perhaps some characters know better than to eat the food of the fae, recalling legends and lore about the mystical properties and implicit bargains made in becoming a guest. Perhaps some have no idea, and are simply hungry enough to dig in!

UNWILLING TEN-ANTS ( DAYS SIX - EIGHT )
The scuttling, scrabbling feet of ants crawling over surfaces, winding their way through this grassy playground, has become normal. Their feet thunder as they go about their business, and it seems to be a normal cadence to life here in the underbrush, in the greenhouse. It is normal, and it is has become nothing to really concern oneself with. They are ants, after all, what do they do, but work? Endlessly, continuously.

That is, until the heavy, loud sounds of their feet draw closer to whatever place that the bearers have found to camp in. Whether solitary or as a group, these workers are no longer content to simply ignore the bearers, but they are a curiosity, perhaps even a bother. You have disrupted their lifestyle. The sleepy pattern of obtain food, return ot the hive, and back out again now has obstacles. Now there are not simply the fairies, who live their own lives and existences, a part of the ecosystem, but now there are these tiny bearers. Fighting, working together, arguing and disagreeing.

You are disruptive to their way of life.

The ants have come to collect on this due, and some bearers that are vulnerable, or perhaps merely caught, are taken away, your weight so light compared to the rest of their burdens that they carry. The strength of these ants is overwhelming, incredible at this size, and try as you might, if you are caught in their strong mandibles, you cannot escape. An ant, after all, carries 1000 times their weight with those powerful jaws. You, bearer, are nothing to them.

They squirrel away the bearers within their hill, a complicated network of tunnels, junctions, and large spaces. Down within, where the air becomes stifling, and stale. The ants guard their pray, and you get the distinct sense that they see you not as people, not even as enemies, but as prey. You will be food – perhaps to the eggs that are gathered within this room, where you can see the stirring of new life, just beneath the surface. You may not have very long to live, if these little larvae get their mouths on you.

Or perhaps, your friends will save you? Once it is discovered that bearers are missing, the trail of ant prints on the ground is apparent – they are not stealthy creatures – and the feet lead from the locations of several kidnapped bearers toward the grainy ant hill that lies not far away. The hill itself swarms with life, with worker ants all over the surface, scuttling about, looking for the next meal for te colony. Or perhaps for more bearers to bring back for their young.

It will be dangerous, bearers, to save your friends. Should you choose to do so, you will be kicking the anthill, and the ants will protect what is theirs. Even if they just took it. Those bearers belong to them, now! Rescuers will find not only your average worker ant, ready to defend, but winged male ants will attack from above, and deeper, within the nest, near where the bearers are kept, lies the strongest ant in the colony: The Queen. Staggeringly large, strong, and vicious, when her subjects begin dying. She will do everything in her power to protect her colony, and that includes killing bearers, if need be. Or trying, at least.

Good luck rescuing your friends, bearers!
IN SMALL PACKAGES ( DAYS NINE - TEN )
The day after the ant-pocalypse brings with it the brush of recognition — the Effigy has foreseen the likely victors, and calls to them to approach it once they have suitably recovered. It judges them the ones whom are most devoted to what binds them, loyal to memory and remembrance, and begins to clamor for them to restore to it what belongs rightfully. Thus begins a full day of resting, locating last-minute items, shoring up defenses and preparing for the sprint to the finish line.

Certainly your rivals will not allow you to simply walk to the Effigy unassailed and unchallenged.

Eat, rest, ensure your fellows are close and bolstered, for tomorrow begins the final rally.

On the morning of the tenth day, Meridian Shardbearers approach the Effigy with its five items in hand. In the midst of the mushroom ring, the Effigy stands as it had in the beginning — arms outstretched and back bowed skyward, gnarled fingers seeking contact with that which has been lost to it. It awaits, it strains, and even as it does, it requires one last test of ability. From the shadows of the towering mushrooms, the rasp of scale and soft hiss of a great beast descends upon the fae ring.

A gleaming garden snake, with glossy black and green stripes, blocks the way between approaching Shardbearers and the Effigy.

Between its bright eyes, pressed upon its brow is a scattering of brighter scales that appear to be in the shape of a delicate, three-leafed plant with spiraling patterns for leaves. It braces itself against the approach, and there is no doubt that to claim victory, the serpent must be subdued. Though Meridian approaches with victory in hand, they have not yet attained it — their rival faction and this beast remain in their way.

MISSING LINKS ( THROUGHOUT )
As the Effigy desires to be reunited with what belongs to it, the swell of its longing stirs something more within all present Shardbearers.

With that foreign longing arrives knowledge: beyond the five items prized by the Effigy itself, there are other lost things within the greenhouse. Like a compass, each Shardbearer's mind points them in direction after direction, urging them to seek and explore. Implicitly, the thrum of comprehension fills your mind: these are things that do not belong to you, per se, but seek to have your hands ferry them home.

Amidst tangled brush, hidden under doffed acorn cap, tucked away in the belly of a fae's glittering den, lost in the depths of a puddle of spilled water that seems an insurmountable lake now, folded secretly into the petals of a towering, skyscraper-like flower, there are three additional items hidden within the tumultuous landscape that each Shardbearer feels a draw towards. Things that belong to someone else, eager to be reunited with them, but subject to whim.

Upon locating and retrieving one, the Shardbearer is filled with a sense of information — they know who this item belongs to, and they will know that they have a choice. Bonds are fragile things after all, and they exist to be enforced or abused, in order to advance a goal or to deepen a connection. How will you treat someone's precious bond? How will they treat yours?
NOTES
Here are some prompts to set the scene and foundation of the Exalt Oracle! — The theme of this Oracle is a loose edition of capture the flag, where the Effigy's items can pass through multiple hands within the ten day allotment.

— For additional ideas and fun, it is known that several Shardbearers have concluded their efforts to fulfill the Greenwood Yards' sidequest request.

— All details of the Exalt Oracle can be found here, and questions for the mods can be submitted here.
CODING
warmare: (叫び)

[personal profile] warmare 2023-09-11 01:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[She doesn't balk to kneel because she fears to lumber down into a more vulnerable position for a jinba, who moved quickest when already on all four hooves. She does not come to a stop at a slight distance from him because she fears his teeth will sink next into her own neck. But the motivation behind her actions does not change the state of her physical reaction and how it can be interpreted. Does not change the fact that the action of drinking blood was one she cannot see as anything but disgusting. Who would not? It is blood, not wine, it seems at first thought to be no different from eating human flesh as one would devour rabbit or pheasant.

Liem had not smiled. But when she looks him in the eyes as he demands, his face still reminds her of Mikuni's blood-stained one, twisted by an almost eerily innocent and welcoming smile as he held out the human liver in his hands in offer. There is horror that is not entirely fresh in her eye.]


I do?

[Already he declares as if she should understand why he had betrayed her confidence, her trust, as if she should somehow forgive it as sensible and logical, but sense and logic have nothing to do with what she had felt when she saw him bite into Amos' neck. Washing away the relief at being "saved" (though she would contend she already had him on the back foot, she'd have finished it herself-) had been such an overwhelming shock, as if she'd been stabbed in the back when her guard was down. Because-]

You- You know everything about me, and I do not know you drink blood?

["Everything"... was an exaggeration, perhaps, but. Thanks to the way they had met in Kenos, Liem Talbott knew more of her past than maybe any single other shard-bearer in existence. He knew things she had never said to others, that she hesitated to share even with those who claimed they wished to know her, to be her friends. He'd-]

You called me your friend-

[That day in Alenroux, when they had come to an Accord. She remembers everything about that moment, because so few... so few people called her by that title. So why, then... How many times must she feel this awful twist of the knife in her hearts, all at the hands of those she has tried to take a chance on, to let close when she knows better, when she'd always known that to have such ties was nothing but a vulnerability, something that would weaken her and dull her edge. Claude, who had smiled and called her a friend for months before she found out that he'd been concealing his rank, even his name. Set, who had desperately pressed that word into her being and claimed they needed each other before he took his own life without a single word of warning, leaving her unsure if he had vanished or simply grown bored of her. And now Liem, too- ?]

You called me your friend, and you have been a banpire this entire time?

[No, that's not right, is it. His smell... she'd recognized it only recently on someone else, she just... Hadn't wanted to believe it. She'd dismissed what she sensed because it couldn't be true, because Liem... Liem would not lie to her about something so intrinsic. About being a-]

A dhampir?!
muchalucha: coloring by <user name=blorbos> (pic#16434850)

[personal profile] muchalucha 2023-09-11 03:47 pm (UTC)(link)
No, no, ¡esta bien! It was the good thing to do!

[ She nods as she stands again and looks up at the dragon-sized bird with a frown, but with a little noise turns again to offer a hand to help Liem stand as well. There’s not much room, but it’s at least enough to stand. It definitely seems better to be standing in case anything shifts, she thinks. ]

Mm, he’s… Really big! I guess I could call my Quetzalcoatlus, but I don’t know if that would help! He wouldn’t be as big as him!

[ Plus, Liem probably isn’t too eager to fly away from this problem, but. She doesn’t know that. She plants her hands on her hips, then starts to look around for maybe something she can throw…? ]

Ay, I don’t want to hurt him too bad, but maybe if I throw a little rock hard enough, he’ll go away?
damnpire: (pic#12094812)

[personal profile] damnpire 2023-09-11 04:04 pm (UTC)(link)
[It is very peculiar how silent D is for such a long time even after Byleth has asked this question. He's still holding on! He's still there, yet he really doesn't answer, like he hasn't heard Byleth, or like he doesn't care to give a response.

Finally, though, he shifts behind Byleth's shoulders and head in the way of looking around. Then his little face appears over one of Byleth's shoulders.]


Camp...?

[Oh no.

Oh no, now Byleth is never going to figure out Little D is just Big D, that they are the same person. It is only Little D now.]
damnpire: (pic#12040565)

[personal profile] damnpire 2023-09-11 04:19 pm (UTC)(link)
Mm.

[His eyes very momentarily squeeze shut under the hand, then the lashes slowly flutter open to watch Set inspect the barest bones of the start of a woven basket. It is simple, but the weaves are tidy and sturdy.

A little thing for a little boy's hands.]


Yes. [The way he responds makes it sound clinical, devoid of opinion in the monotonous soft way he delivers things.] He wants to see how strong we are. He said he had to cut us apart.

[His eyes lift.]

You can have it when I'm finished.
helloween: (016👼)

[personal profile] helloween 2023-09-11 04:49 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Albeit belatedly, Lucien notices the hand extending his way but fails to catch it before it drops to the floor. In mirroring assurance, he's careful to pick it up even as Silco is bit at— perhaps now in attempt to calm Amos down.

His round eyes pass between the two of them, uncertain as to what they mean by the one option. Context alone suggests that it's either dangerous or embarrassing. Lucien hesitates. With a small squeeze around Amos' tired hand, his mouth is a tense, unsure line. Silco seems more likely to be upfront about elaborating on his suggestion, so the child looks to him for answers. ]


Am I in the way? He saved me once already and faced a lot of danger then too. There's no way I could leave him behind.
helloween: (144🫀)

[personal profile] helloween 2023-09-11 05:00 pm (UTC)(link)
I'm not about to refuse. Anything's better than nothing, just hope she's not too heavy with my magic scaled down like this... think I should still be able to lift her.

[ Dark turns to face said shard, bending and hooking his fingers under its edges. At this size, it's the equivalent of lifting a vehicle, but his magic even at scale still allows him to lift things 1,041,667 times his own weight. (I actually did the math for this...) ]

Oh hey, no problem. She's big, but it's not bad. What were you thinking to make into a pack?
sterngaze: (Default)

[personal profile] sterngaze 2023-09-11 05:17 pm (UTC)(link)
[Over their encounter, Liem’s impression of the tie between Set and Gen has flexed and warped with confusion: a constantly-shifting notion born of incomplete information. Set has come to retrieve the shard belonging to Gen. Gen has the jars containing the soul of Set’s son. Gen has not just endangered Anubis, but wronged Set, betrayed some bond between the two of them. As ever, Liem can only grasp a part of some vast, greater whole when it comes to the god. But he believes that he begins to understand.

The continued occupation of his hands is an ongoing inconvenience. Liem reaches to one side, stabs that dark, slim dagger into a broad green stalk, so that he can wrap that arm freely around the man leaning over him. In all his restless, obsessive motion, Set feels as though he might shake apart at any moment, explode into violence seemingly at odds with his rapt attention for Liem’s person. Somehow he still craves that attention, despite the way he instinctively flinches at each brush of Set’s hands over his battered and bloodied body.
]

Then I will leave his punishment to you — as long as he is made to regret his decision.

[He says this as though he doesn’t know that Gen’s own instability, his own fear and rage, had driven him to such extremes. It doesn’t matter; he cast the first stone. Perhaps Liem is the less forgiving one in this situation, because he had demanded that the boy learn his lesson even when Gen had finally curbed his temper. But then, Liem’s lesson would only have been an exercise in patience. Given how things have escalated, he doubts Set will be so lenient.

He isn’t expecting the praise he receives, for his failed gambit that only ended up hurting the both of them — all three of them, if he’s considering Set’s attachment to Gen as well. He feels undeserving of it, even if only because of his clumsy execution.

But he does not push the god away, does not reject his touch or his approval. He wants them too much. And so he only nuzzles closer, cautious of his tender, abused face, seeking the pulse at the other man’s neck.
]
warmare: (pic#16264538)

[personal profile] warmare 2023-09-11 05:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[Despite how honorbound the two of them were in their own particular ways, the differences in that honor show themselves in the way Set's sworn warriors react to his news. Hayame is enraged because of the personal insult- that someone would take Set's child hostage, a child that she "knew" and had accepted despite all they had always represented to a woman such as herself, that someone would dare to wrong Set, while Dimitri seems incensed on behalf of children, of the innocents. (Perhaps, despite how publicly and violently he had raged across Communion, he was the nobler of all of them.)]

...

[Despite her expressed willingness to move, to attack, to go now if he would just command them, Hayame is silent as she listens to the war god's answer, watching (sadly) as he cradles the canopic jar with the peculiar writing of his world upon it, pressing his lips to the shape of it. If the spirits of those orphans were here... if someone were to take from her was precious little she cared for...

Fine. She thought it was far too merciful to give that brat anything less than execution, far too risky to grant him time to potentially do something to Anubis' remaining jars, but... It was not her son. It was Set's decision, and no matter how suspicious she is of the phrasing give him the opportunity, thinking cynically of the Zenith pets the god seemed to like to collect and coddle despite how much it potentially undermined Meridian's cause...

There was also the Prism to consider. It needed to be secured. Hayame's head lowers slightly in acknowledgement. Not just of his claim (which she would honor until Gen wrongs her days later), but of his advice. He did not even need to say it (to her). After all...]


It is already begun.

[Beneath the bolstering grip of Set's hand, Hayame's muscular arm flexes as her hand moves to one of her makeshift, leaf-woven saddlebags to pull from it a shard, gleaming and crimson and held tight in her fingers. One the Exalt Oracle had connected her to, that belonged to a Zenite with whom she has no personal grudge...

But she does not need one. He is a Zenite. An enemy. A man who is actively working to see the end of her hope to return to her world where she belonged. She is not cruel and not violent without cause, she has no immediate plans to crush it... yet she also has no plans to return it. For now, she has a hostage of her own. And she does not seem to see an ounce of hypocrisy in it.]
Edited 2023-09-11 18:23 (UTC)
warmare: (踠き)

[personal profile] warmare 2023-09-11 07:02 pm (UTC)(link)
[The glint of metal reflecting the light of the surrounding fires is a hint, but it is not definitive enough. It could be a bracer, some sort of armor... but once the earth, not fire, responds to the sneaking invader's call... Hayame knows.

That irreverent, traitorous brat. The one wearing Liem's face, perhaps even taking some sort of perverse pleasure in trying to mock and insult her with it, was the Earth Mover. Minegishi Gen. ... If only she'd succeeded in putting that arrow between his shoulder blades on the streets of Verena, how much trouble she would have saved herself. Saved Meridian. Saved everyone.

Hayame's forehooves hit the ground and she stumbles the landing just slightly on upturned rock, but there is no time to prance around the broken earth and debate whether to follow him or not. The spreading fire was hardly subtle, she could surely trust the others to discover it and fight it, but even if they didn't... What did she care? She cares about the Objects, about victory... and about revenge. Despite the fact that she was willing to kill Gen for his cowardly attack on the Prism with Amos, that bullshit invisibility and his mocking laugh echoing in the air, she had promised to cede that right to Set, once she learned he had the greater claim with his son held hostage.

... Not anymore. She would make sure Gen understood that his death was partly to do with those acts, for the sake of the war god... but that is all the courtesy she is now willing to extend. Not after he'd had the gall to sneak into their camp, to wear her friend's face, to insult her so nakedly... But she has to catch him first.

He moves faster than a human could usually run, his pace augmented by the soil, but he does not move much faster than a jinba. She throws herself into pursuit at a full gallop, tearing up the brief head start that he has and clearing the gap, following through the dark the scent of blood and the signs of cracking dirt until they reach the end of camp, the earth begins to burst open to release their now shit-stained son...

And Hayame is there, bearing down on him the second he emerges with a half ton of flashing hooves and snarling jinba ready to trample him.]
sterngaze: (neutral: tousled)

[personal profile] sterngaze 2023-09-11 09:46 pm (UTC)(link)
[With each word Hayame flings at him, Liem’s expression only becomes more shuttered, more stubbornly closed off. He is not ready to accept the blame for this — not when revulsion still shines so nakedly in her one remaining eye, even with Amos’s body left behind them and Liem’s face washed clean of blood. It’s him; it’s always been him, no matter how civilized he acted for the benefit of those around him who thought of his habits with disgust and fear. There had been some who were able to ignore it, but for most others — it didn’t matter what he did or said, or how properly he conducted himself. They were unable to look past the stain that they knew was there.]

Yes, how dare I. How dare I deceive you by keeping from you what was never any of your business.

[Because yes — he had not hidden his eyes or his ears or his pallor from her; he had told her that he wasn’t human, from a land where most other people were. But she had never asked him what he was, and he had never volunteered it. So it was deception, in a way, to let her know him without ever confessing the truth, and to let her think that he was just a strange-looking man, just as many of the people in Kenos and in Horos before looked strange.

But was she owed that truth? Was she owed the knowledge of what he did in the privacy of his own home, or someone else’s? Did he need to confess to her a litany of every sin he’d ever committed, so she might judge them all for herself before deciding whether she could continue to know him? Should he wear a brand on his forehead, to display his degeneracy to everyone who might cross paths with him even for a moment?

It had been bad enough that everyone who saw his face back in Taldor had known something was wrong with him. He had not wanted to volunteer for the same judgment here, too.
]

How inconsiderate of me, to not reveal my inhumanity to you sooner, that you might have looked at me back then as you are now.
redsoil: (pic#16220876)

[personal profile] redsoil 2023-09-11 09:59 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Set's mind is a mess of contradictions that are natural and not at all at war. He is able to slice pieces of himself into incomprehensibly complex shapes in order to fit the strange uniqueness of each individual he meets; there is no mold, when it comes to how Set will act, react and decide upon his treatment of each soul. He dislikes the idea of 'mortals', as a principle, scorns them... and yet, still endeavors to hold each one before his eyes as someone to study, to engage with.

Maybe that is why, Liem continues to surprise him. The way he gouges his blade into the hosta they are still mildly confined in, in order to hold him. It hurts, cuts deeply. To think that someone he'd just brutalized could still find something in himself to do anything other than thrust him away, in rejection. Liem entrusts the decision to Set, and he feels something fragile grind within his chest, like the broken edges of bone rasping too-roughly against one another. Whittling it down so it won't ever be the same shape that it once was. A fragmentation, caused by some unknowing, delicate blow. ]


— thank you.

[ Gratitude is a messy thing, from Set. It is there, in the way his stomach clenches, the way his shoulders curve into a defensive hunch, knees digging into Liem's waist as he lowers himself further atop him. Set stretches like a cat, once he presses himself into the other man's hold, lengthening himself with driven purpose. As he lifts his chin at an angle, to bare the line of his throat, one hand breaks free of where he had found the point of Liem's ear, to reach behind his head and draw the curtain of red hair aside and over one shoulder. ]
fishfearme: (huh?)

[personal profile] fishfearme 2023-09-11 10:10 pm (UTC)(link)
[They began to walk - carefully and slowly, picking through the route they took earlier to escape the spider - when Yuri spoke. Byleth visibly looked interested.]

Oh? And what did you think? Admittedly I've been focusing more on refining my happy endings, but I'm not quite sure I capture the romance of it all properly. It's difficult when you have little experience to draw upon...
wolfish: (mull)

[personal profile] wolfish 2023-09-11 10:49 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Yuri hummed softly as he considered that.

He'd intended to say Byleth's handwriting wasn't half as rough as some of his men, who came by literacy well into adulthood, but he did have thoughts on the stories themselves. ]


I know that you're angling for something specific — I get that sense, at least. [ Something he'd like to experience for himself, at least in some of those stories. Byleth had written so much. ] But your information comes from books, yeah? I had a look at some of those too, and I'd say they skew things. For one, some of the sex scenes would just be painful if not injurious, rather than a good time.

[ But the part Byleth cared about most was the emotional intimacy, wasn't it? He'd spoken of that before. ]

I don't exactly have experience with romance, myself. Not the genuine kind, at any rate.

[ Some of the parts that felt like an odd clash between learned portrayals and genuine yearning stood out to him. Or maybe it was simply his past speaking... After lapsing into a brief and ruminative silence, he shook his head. ]

I think you're a solid writer, but you could use more to draw from. It might help you feel out what you really want to say.
erbe: To your own feelings (035)

[personal profile] erbe 2023-09-12 12:29 am (UTC)(link)
[Gently her feet touch the ground. Such a successful landing said so much about Hayame. Rin could go down the list, but... as such a thing is more like gazing into a mirror than it is discovering something new about some unknown entity she abandons the internal endeavor. Instead failures are left behind and swept under the rug as she cuts the flow of magical energy to the spell that had made her nearly weightless.

After smoothing out her skirt she nods briefly to Hayame for a wordless 'thank you,' before getting to business.]


If you don't have a knife I can improvise. It'll be simple to split evenly considering the make up of a raspberry.
wolfish: (lean)

[personal profile] wolfish 2023-09-12 01:00 am (UTC)(link)
[ THE MATH. THE DARK MATH... ]

Your magic must be pretty handy, versatile as it is. I'm thinking cloth would be best, so as not to risk any scratching or abrasion. Don't know how durable shards are, exactly, but that's someone precious to you in there.

[ Yuri wastes no time procuring a square of soft cloth that might be a handkerchief. It's clean, exuding a vaguely floral aroma not unlike Yuri himself. His hands take to the busy task of folding and tying, then pausing to tug at the resulting little pouch that should allow Dark to wear it at his size, with space to secure Yoko within it.

Once Yuri finishes scrutinizing his work, he holds it out for Dark's inspection. ]


Think this will do, for the time being?
erbe: (155)

[personal profile] erbe 2023-09-12 01:14 am (UTC)(link)
[Unfortunately Tohsaka thinks nothing about lore dumping on a child. If only because she was taught at a very young age herself, so she expects most people to keep up with her until they make it clear that they can't. When she's satisfied with her inspection she turns to Gen.

She looks much older when her hair is either fully pulled up away from her face, or mostly left to cascade down around it. The two styles not really giving the extra "girlishness" that her typical pigtails do. Gently her hand cups his own that holds the flower to indicate he can let go. Meanwhile her other hand rests delicately atop his head. Meant to be a reassuring gesture as she allows one small hint of a smile. When she speaks it's soft and quiet. No longer her projected voice intended for lecturing.]


You don't need to worry about me. I've had it far easier than most people in the grand scheme of things, so save such concern for yourself. For now though, can I ask for your help? I'll give you spell to use for it.
damnpire: (pic#12042816)

[personal profile] damnpire 2023-09-12 01:30 am (UTC)(link)
[WOW. :pleading_face:

Surely Liem will not be manhandled a second time. D regards the trench made by the worm, thinking about Liem claiming to be a regular little guy. Well, they could go around if they hurry far enough ahead to beat any attempts the worm may make to breach the surface again...

Or they could... jump... the gap...?]


Excuse me.

[This is not the first (or last) time he will be sorry to Liem probably by doing something bold with minimal communication. He bends and quickly folds Liem up into his arms once more like he had a few minutes ago.

And then, without a running start, he lowers into a crouch and... springs? directly up into the air from where he's standing, like a cat, like a flea, with his long hair and longer cape fanning quickly outward. He leaps across to the opposite side, Liem and all.]
damnpire: (pic#12094814)

[personal profile] damnpire 2023-09-12 01:41 am (UTC)(link)
[The first prick of invisible noise makes him stop immediately. The sound is human, and so he realizes this is indeed either fae or Shard-bearer. It's uncertain for this very moment whether that is a good thing or a bad thing.

It quickly becomes such a bad thing when Silco's voice is what peels out of the air like a Cheshire cat.]


Don't.

[The warning is undoubtedly futile, but he gives it anyway. The photograph winks into view, spinning gracefully toward the ground. He jerks toward it and reaches out, but for some reason... begins... falling? He's falling toward the ground, and the cape around him is much too large, tangling him.

No, he doesn't fall...? His chest and arms and hands don't come with any impact. No, he's standing there swallowed up by a long cape and over-sized pauldrons. The only thing that has really shrunken is the bodysuit, the cape. The long, dark hair has receded into something cropped close to his face, too.]
warmare: (掴む)

[personal profile] warmare 2023-09-12 01:56 am (UTC)(link)
[Hayame barely knows what a vampire is. Such creatures did not exist in her own world, and the closest stories she could compare them to were all of youkai spirits or demons. She only knew the basics as she’d been told them- that they were creatures who were “undead”, that they killed humans and feasted on their blood, and that they were evil. Dhampirs, she only knows as “half vampire”, and she still hasn’t been able to wrap her head around how that works if vampires are dead, the answer given to her by Meridian’s dhampir-living-openly having been unsatisfactory in that regard.

The fact remains that Hayame had known Liem wasn’t human. That hadn’t bothered her at all. She hadn’t even bothered to ask what his kind was called, because on the surface he certainly didn’t seem to place any emphasis on it. Unlike the elf slaver, he didn’t constantly crow about his illustrious lineage and superior race, unlike the demon and the gods, he didn’t act contrary and then simply wave it away by claiming the truth of being a being beyond mortal bounds. Liem Talbott acted as human as anyone. But-]


It’s my business if the people I think I care about are eating people behind my back!

[Her voice jumps an octave and breaks at the crescendo, unable to remain frozen and half lunging with an accusatory point of finger (on her non-dominant hand, the other still hanging twitchy and limp), hooves ripping up moss beneath her in frustration and shock, all beginning to spill out in a messy, ill-timed burst.]

I do not want to hear a single word about the burden of being seen as inhuman from you, Liem Talbott! Not when you are talking to the one woman in this entire accursed group who has never been able to pretend to belong!

[… Was it pretending? Did she even want to? She doesn’t know, but she’s disgusted and scared and more importantly, her confidence has been betrayed (as far as she sees it), and the words rip out of her, long-held resentment over her own treatment leaking in. She turns from him with a whip-like crack of her tail, she makes an angry circle as if in attempt to calm down before she speaks again, but the next time she sees his face-]

Who knows? Who has known about this while I have been ignorantly standing by your side?
Edited 2023-09-12 01:57 (UTC)
hauntedking: (06)

[personal profile] hauntedking 2023-09-12 02:11 am (UTC)(link)
...I think so. I haven't really had a chance to check in. Most of our fighting has been to the south. So...

[ Dimitri sighs. ]

Another fire to put out, when I get back. But I don't think it will be too much of an issue.
hauntedking: (12)

[personal profile] hauntedking 2023-09-12 02:23 am (UTC)(link)
[ Dimitri glances up toward the "ridge" in question, apparently content (or at least somewhat reassured) now that she's putting some weight back on the leg in question. He's still going to keep an eye on her, though. He takes a breath. ]

Quite a long time. I have endurance to match my strength. I doubt I can beat you for speed, but... I'll keep up in endurance.

[ He's confident of that and it comes through in his voice. If there's anything he can be proud of, it's his physical conditioning. ]

Let's not waste time. [ He takes a few steps, ready to break into a jog. ]
settingup: (uh-oh running now)

[personal profile] settingup 2023-09-12 02:31 am (UTC)(link)
[ It's fortunate for Liem, and deeply unfortunate for Atsumu, that Atsumu has spent a lie free of people who tell the kind of malicious lies that could get him seriously hurt. Hell, the biggest liar he knew growing up was himself, and his lies tended to be stupid and relatively harmless (as well as hard to believe), so in the end of the day all they did was mildly agitate people.

It makes him an easy mark for someone like the less than kind version of Liem currently buried in the dirt, because he's also had remarkable luck with even people from Meridian deciding to help him out when facing foes that didn't care much about faction divides.

So he's not bothering to make Liem swear any oaths or make even small promises to him. He's blindly (literally right now) trusting that Liem fully intends to get them both out of this mess. Though his words aren't exactly comforting and the mention of "stored food" had Atsumu's ears flattening down against his head.

No, he doesn't think he likes that at all. Nor does he like it when he's told the nearest one can feel him. He freezes in spot, barely breathing as he searches wildly in the dark for any ant shape, while failing to really make one out.

He tries not to move his legs forward as he reaches slowly towards the only shapes he can see, the pale stack of eggs.
]

Any chance it's wandered off now?
damnpire: (pic#15956292)

[personal profile] damnpire 2023-09-12 02:34 am (UTC)(link)
[Alright, he expected this, and yet he is still surprised every time. Gen is so volatile and easy to rile, even unintentionally.

Gen meets the same frustrating stoicism as usual. The muscles of D's shoulders and neck tighten with a prepared sort of tension, but he allows Gen to grab a fistful of him and get closer. Gen is maybe one of the few people who can do this with similar height.

The eyes which normally look so brown are actually a dark terracotta, Gen finds, and flaked with strange carnelian slivers when D moves them back and forth to look into Gen's own eyes.]


I've never given anyone my pity, [he says, voice still soft and deep as usual. Unbothered.] It's not a path unobtainable to you.

Is Zenith's win so important to you, or is it only Meridian's loss?
wolfish: (say)

[personal profile] wolfish 2023-09-12 02:38 am (UTC)(link)
After dealing with the Empire, I fancy border disputes do look far smaller.

[ He lifts a hand, pauses, then pats Dimitri's arm gently. ]

Sylvain's got a good head on his shoulders. Be sure you rely on him a bit, when you get to that. The guy I know back home powers through paperwork, for that matter.

[ Don't plan to shoulder the work alone, Dimitri. ]
hauntedking: (12)

[personal profile] hauntedking 2023-09-12 02:39 am (UTC)(link)
[ There's something in those words that makes Dimitri pause. His anger still burns hot and righteous but there's something else; a cooling that comes with what Set says. Punishing the wicked, protecting the weak - those are things he will gladly do. He will fight on the field of battle and drench himself in blood for the sake of others and to protect others. He will take on that weight. But the touch of Set's hand and the task he asks of him makes Dimitri hesitate. He curls his fingers against his spear again, lips pressed tightly together. He glances sidelong at Hayame and then tries to form his own reaction. He's unsure.

Floundering a little in the wave of his two companions.
]

They aren't warriors or soldiers, though. They're innocents.

[ His objection isn't precisely half-hearted. He knows that taking hostages has a long tradition - disobedient vassals can be brought to heel with wards and other such measures. But it's not something he particularly enjoys or likes considering. Someone's child or spouse or parent should not pay the blood price of another. That isn't right.

Set's touch is oddly reassuring but it also brings the discord; that tingling burn even through the clothes he wears.
]

They haven't done anything...

[ He doubts. His morals are his bedrock, what he clings to to keep himself from descending into that crazed animal madness. ]