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Entry tags:
- !event,
- arknights: gavial,
- baroque: koriel xii (dextera),
- bastard!!: dark schneider,
- boy's abyss: gen minegishi,
- expanse (the): amos burton,
- fire emblem: byleth eisner,
- fire emblem: claude von riegan,
- fire emblem: dimitri a. blaiddyd,
- fire emblem: yuri leclerc,
- granblue fantasy: eustace,
- jinba: hayame,
- legend of zelda (the): midna,
- locked tomb (the): john gaius,
- oc: liem talbott,
- star wars: cassian andor,
- star wars: jyn erso,
- vampire hunter d: d
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 theflag 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
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.
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!
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!
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.
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?
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.
— 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.
no subject
Dark misses the offhanded insult meant for him. Instead of it clicking, his eyes are instead crazed when John makes mention of Rin— ]
And I'm supposed to believe she's besties with her murderer now, hah? Like that's all fine and good?
[ Kff! With nostrils flared, his expression contorts to one of rage. ]
no subject
No. [ he sighs, muttering for fuck's sake under his breath because he hates having to explain himself. ] Not for fun, I'm not an animal. I had an excellent reason, and her sacrifice was not made in vain.
[ every death is special, guys. ]
And we are not "besties", [ air quotes? yes. ] Rin is simply a smart girl who is good at what she does. We exchanged information and parted ways peacefully, but I suspect she hates me quite a lot.
[ it's funny! ]
I don't blame her, and she's a much better person than I am. I wouldn't have been able to resist killing me back at least once. No guarantee she won't, but I'll have earned that, right?
[ he looks down as he brushes something from his sleeves. maybe something that isn't even there, but the dismissive gesture is clear.
john is old and tired and has been angry for a very long time; it's hard to motivate himself to give a fuck about other people's rage. ]
Now then, what is your grievance exactly? I know why Jyn wants me dead, but I still don't even know who you are.
no subject
and, oh, he's trying. he's opened his stupid mouth to all his usual bantha shit — and for fuck's sake, does he ever get tired of listening to himself talk? it would be so easy to go for her blaster in the holster on her hip and silence him for a long time. a part of her is tempted.
but she, unlike him, doesn't go around killing people like this. (an excellent reason; that's bantha shit, too.) no, she'll keep her hands right where they are, crossing her arms over her chest for emphasis — and she'll roll her eyes so visibly.
she'll say, quietly, sarcastically, while dark figures out his answer:]
Can't imagine why she'd hate you.
[someone else might've said i don't want you dead, but, frankly, jyn can't, because she, unlike some people she knows (john), isn't in the habit of telling lies just to try to manipulate people with what they want to hear; if things happened to turn out that way one day, that he were to be dead, somewhere, she wouldn't exactly pretend to be sad about it.]
cw: suicide
That's just how he's going to treat this, isn't it? In an arrogant, dismissive way, with snooty, high-horse excuses that aren't going to work. When Dark sees John, he's reminded of how Lich the Eddie was, back in his home world. Satan's Ring on his finger. The lack of eye contact, the self-importance of being something so inherently connected to the undead— fuck, if the man dares be any more condescending, Dark doesn't know if he'll be able to keep himself from slugging him right in the nose. ]
An excellent reason?
[ Dark scoffs. John's going to push into this holier-than-thou I Did What I Had to Do TV trope now, isn't he? By this dialog alone, Dark can tell he's definitely a Never My Fault kind of character. He bares his fangs. ]
Shut up, John, with your dumb basic name! You talk so fucking much! Why'd you bring up your stupid cotton candy date in the first place?
[ Dark can only assume the necromancer's trying to humblebrag or something. ]
Listen, I'll lay it to you straight: you just better hope whatever you got from that Aetós guy changed you, your dog, and your grandma's life up until now because you sure made a piss-baby mistake by dragging my woman into your buddy's mad scientist bullshit! You should've done this whole cast a favor by deleting yourself and giving Aetós your own shard instead!
no subject
[ john chuckles quietly, brows lifting in a questioning expression as he peers across at dark. he expects people to throw moral objections at him, but this is a new one. he sidesteps the question of his reasoning to focus on this instead. ]
Yikes, is that what this is about? I never would've guessed. She must have some reason for sticking around, I suppose. Couldn't be for the conversation.
[ perhaps that other soul he can perceive occupying the same body? john can only guess. ]
You're wasting your time, in any case. I only brought it up to illustrate the fact that Rin could've had her revenge whenever she wanted. I sat right next to her the whole time and was a little drunk besides, but I'm not who she wants to be punished.
[ john hardly thinks he's blameless, but it's not like yelling at him will suddenly awaken him to the error of his ways. it's clear they want something out of this, but can't imagine they're going to walk away anything less than disappointed.
jyn wants her gloves, of course, but he hasn't gotten what he'd requested as his price yet either. ]
The fact that you think confronting me and telling me what a naughty thing I've done accomplishes anything just proves how out of touch you are.
no subject
[ The other's attitude is still annoying as fuck, but John at the very least hasn't disputed Dark's claims. He folds his arms over his chest. ]
Rin's like. Two. [ Like he's picking fun at her ageー ]
And frankly, I don't care if she didn't kick your ass for what you did to her, because it doesn't change the fact that I'm about to, whether doing so "accomplishes" [ He makes some air quotes with his fingers and lifts his voice higher, attempting mock the other's tone. ] anything or not.
[ Dark spits, ] Ha! Actually, seeing you bleed would be juuust the accomplishment I needed in spite of this garbage, granted how pissed I was that weren't around for me to beat the shit out of the first time.
[ Dark turns to look over Jyn, because right. Something had been going on between these two before he'd arrived. She's got beef with him too, doesn't she? ]
Something wrong, by the way? What'd he do to you?
[ Because if he can get back at John for both his wrongdoings toward Rin and Jyn, it's two birds with one stone. ]
no subject
only — it's so difficult to pay attention when john talks, isn't it? it's nearly impossible, because he talks too fucking much and she hates his stupid fucking voice more than she hates anything, so somewhere in there, her mind starts to wander purely for the sake of self-preservation.
it's not until it's dark speaking, and then asking her a question, that jyn returns to the moment.]
He has something that's mine, [she says, eyes flicking over toward him before turning back to john.] And he won't give it back. Says he deserves respect.
[if the mocking isn't clear in her tone (it is), she caps that off with yet another scoff.]
no subject
[ he can't help but wonder what dark means by that. ]
In any case, it's more that I don't care how or why you have a harem. That's also weird to mention a harem and then imply that she's young, right? C'mon, mate. Do better.
[ his condescending tone is only getting worse as he settles into more of his long-winded commentary. he loves to be heard; that's probably why he's an Iconoclast. ]
Should I be concerned about your threats when I could reach in and pluck out that extra soul of yours if I wanted to? I think not.
[ it's true that he can be killed and his powers are not what they were in his own world, but he doesn't fear what they could do to him. his body may die, but he knows now with certainty that the Tree will restore him. ]
I also don't think asking for a small gesture of respect is so ridiculous. Or are you too proud? They must not mean that much to you after all.
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Uwaaa! Oh nooooo...! Not my other shard! [ Theatrical baby's voice. ]
Why're you acting like that makes you special, John? [ He reminds John that his name is John. ] Any one of us here could just rip another person's shard outta their body. I could threaten you with the exact same thing, except you've only got one to lose. If you keep Jyn's gloves to yourself any longer, I'll crack your shard open with my teeth and feed it to my new centipede. Give 'em back already!
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That sounds like a fair deal, John.
[yeah, there's some shitty little emphasis on his name, too. fuck him; he's the absolute last person here who deserves anyone's respect, much less hers.]
I think you should take it.
[there's just a slight tilt of her head now, as if she's silently asking, well?]
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[ john had also said soul for a reason and not Shard, but he's not in the mood to explain the finer points of advanced soul magic right now.
everyone should be grateful.the posturing, however, will continue. mostly because it irritates him every time they say his name like it's a gotcha and he can't stand it. ]
Didn't Rin tell you what happened when I killed her? [ he makes a gesture with his hands to imply an explosion. ] If I wanted you dead, there isn't much you could do about it.
ughghghghgh i am sorry
[ Dark's grinning at John in a way that humans don't. A dangerous heat boils in his blood now and the intensity only seems to escalate when he's dealt the insults. After all, this sort of banter is typical for him. It generally serves as foreplay to a stupidly long, multi-chapter battle. ]
What I wanna know now is what you think I can do!
LMAO HELP
but — there's another part of her, present enough to be impossible to ignore, that also knows this: whatever they're in right now is just a fucking loop, and it's a giant waste of time. anytime egos get involved it's a waste of time; reece and the others back at saw's compound had been enough of a testament to that. and what is it that she herself had said in the middle of the ambassador meeting?
we'll be sitting here for days if we don't find some kind of trust.
she doesn't trust john, dark doesn't trust john, nobody in their right fucking mind should trust john, but if they don't want to continue to be here, wasting a bunch of fucking time, maybe pulling people into this that have no business being in the crossfire —
jyn exhales a long, frustrated sigh as she looks from john to dark —]
Maybe we don't need to know that.
[— and then she looks toward john again. there's nothing friendly, nothing soft, in anything about her, face or voice, but she's making an effort to be even. fair.
(this is a lot like being back in that meeting.)]
Give me back what's mine, and I'll leave. I'll leave, and I'll take him with me.
[no great loss, because i don't want to see you, is what she manages to keep to herself.]
1/2
[ it's so funny that he can't help but laugh out loud. he's seen plenty between this world and his own, but some guy acting like being fictional is a flex is one john never would've expected. ]
Our old friend Dour John, the Archivist, told you all about me, did he? Well, if you believe I'm just the bone guy, I look forward to dispelling that assumption for you sometime.
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before this weird "main character" asshole showed up, things might've gone differently, but then dark had appeared and opened his mouth, and now john knows about jyn's connection to cassian. that means avoiding things that might rock the proverbial boat. it's none of his business, but potentially harming someone's maybe-girlfriend probably isn't going to earn him any points.
john sighs, and the ominous aura hanging around him diminishes at once as if he'd flipped a switch. ]
That wasn't so hard, was it?
[ it's not what john would have asked her to do if he was intending to be a real shit about this (and he was), but it's enough to feel like he's made a point, so he'll take it. he also can't
help but rub it in just a little at the end anyway. ]
Looks like your cartoon friend showed up for nothing.
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[ Dark stares at John for a long time before sighing at him in a tired, mucusy way. To him, all the response proves is that John's a fake fan since he apparently missed the point. Hasn't he ever heard of B████? C████ or A███? Immature, he says... ]
I could still whoop him if you want me to, Jyn, but. Pretty sure the handful of readers would just skip over the fight chapters anyway. John's not even funny; it'll just tank the ratings.
[ Dark has some strong meta opinions about what's happening right now. Though he knows most shard bearers here won't understand him, he by design must say what he has to say.
Well, whatever! This is a rant he can save for Dokja, if he must. ]