NOVEMBER EVENT | THE HARBINGER ORACLE

[beleos]

HEDGING YOUR BETS

Bearers feel it. Similar to when the Scorching Isles was opened, there is the same tug, from somewhere in the distance. Those who are in springstar feel it from closer, like a blossom of warmth in your heart, you feel the Oracle spring to life. Those in Highstorm feel it too, but distant. Far away. You remember Cyrus’s words, that it would come to life in Springstar, and you know, just from the relative distance, from how far away it feels – He was probably right.

So bearers must make their way to the center of Springstar’s residential district. Finding one’s way to Springstar will be difficult, in fact. Preparations have been underway since Cyrus’s announcement, and Springstar leaps into action. The Legionnaires are already marching by the time the first bearers start moving throughout the city. In addition to any of Meridian’s own preparations, the Legionnaires establish choke points and start organizing evacuations. It will be difficult to make your way through Springstar, but the closer bearers make it to the hedge maze, and what seems to be the oracle at the center, the warmer their chests feel. Throughout the city, it feels warm, like small wicks of heat. The closer bearers become, the more it feels like a torrent. It is burning them to their center and igniting them to their cores. Like the fire of drive, is what it feels like. Like the hunger for something more than just food, or anything else, like the anticipation of victory.

The maze itself is where it is the most intense as bearers start to make their way through the hedge maze. Vines and brambles lie within a neat hedge, and it looks like it is safe to jump, or scale, but the moment a bearer tries to jump it, cut through it, or even go beneath it, roots, brambles, and vines lash out to entrap bearers, and start to drag them down and into the hedges. You will have to figure out a way out – lest you be stuck for seemingly the near future.

Of course, when Dimitri’s hand touches the stone statue in the middle, it all goes dark, and wherever you were, whoever you were fighting –

Every bearer collapses at the same time.

YOU'D BETTER BE A-MAZE-ING!

In the dark, there is that fiery impression of the Harbinger. Competition, drive, disdain for even those that best them. It is clear, in the dark, with your eyes closed, that the Harbinger does not see the Bearers as worthy to obtain it. You feel ghostly hands on your mind, into you, as if it is delving for more, trying to pluck and pull out the right memory. It looks for victories, triumphs, defeats, or betrayals. Something that shows the mettle of the bearer, what it is looking for. When it finds what it is looking for – or is this just a dream? – after the bearer experiences the dream, they will get the distinct impression that it is not enough. That the Harbinger wants more. It wants to see what this bearer can do. It wants to see you rise to the challenge, bearer! Will you do as it wishes, and show it the scope of your mettle, or will you capitulate and let the Harbinger know that it was right – you aren’t enough?

The Harbinger wants you to prove them wrong. Can you do that? Will you use spite to convince it that it is wrong? The Harbinger at the center of this labyrinth imparts to bearers, that it will not allow the weak to succeed, that nobody who cannot reach it, would ever be able to protect them. They look down on bearers, and it is up to you, to convince them that you are worth their attention.

When bearers wake, they will be stuck in a foyer. The walls seem blank, and there is a door, leading further into the maze. It is not… fully dark, everything here seems to be lit just enough to move around without trouble, but it is not bright. Bearers can look left, and right, and see others beside them. They are not alone, but nor are they with others of their faction. No, you can feel it, between all of you, gathered here in one space. The humming of your shared aspect fills the room, as if all of you together in one space feels right.

You will not be able to stay. The foyer lasts only until the last person leaves, and if any try to stay behind and stationary, they will find that eventually a door appears, and the room begins to shrink. You had better get moving!

You must move further into the maze. You will find that grouping up for long periods of time becomes impossible, and moving from one door to the next can find foes, allies, or even neutral parties. Every door you open within this maze, leads to new and unusual locations. You may both walk in, from opposite ends, only to find that the doors are gone when you turn your back. Do you end up on a precarious path over spikes, lava, or even water? Do you walk into a room with your greatest desire, a hunger that can now never be sated? Will you do anything to find your way through the corridors? Will bearers help each other, and resist the call of the Harbinger, or will you push over even your treasured ones to win?

MADE IN THE SHADE

And even further in, as you start to catch sight of them, patches of darkness seep into the corners, into everything. They may be hidden, at first. They may lurk underneath patches of leaves, or in shadowed corners. But the longer bearers are within this labyrinth, the longer the shadows seem. They start to reach out, to pull bearers into their shadowy depths. You may feel malaise, or an unwillingness to continue, once you first step within these patches. The longer you are there, the harder it is to get out. You will need help from your friends or dear ones, or sheer strength of will – but can you fight on, as you start to lose the things that motivate you?

And then there are the visions. People you know, love, or trust, they round corners, just ahead. They seem just out of range, and at first, it is difficult to tell if they are there or not. But they happen to reappear, and then disappear around a corner. Try and chase them, if you dare. When your fingers touch their arm, or grab their clothing, or heaven forbid, if you pull them into a hug – it seems impossible to pull away. They were treasured, weren’t they? There is a reason they appear here, to you. Why would you want to pull them away? Why would you –

They reach out, their fingers seem long, as they reach toward your shard – they will not be deterred by clothing or armor, their fingers seem to bend and twist around the junctions – before they find purchase on your shard. They rip it from you, and it feels like you are being separated from something. It’s painful, it hurts, but the last thing you see, as they hold your shard in your hand, is someone you care very deeply for, placing the shard in the same place on their own body, and your own face smiles back at you, and it all goes black. You are gone. Into… nothing.

NOTES

Here are some prompts to set the scene and foundation of the Exalt Oracle! Please refer to the ooc post for more details about what’s happening in the labyrinth! Feel free to direct questions here.

If your character gets killed by a shadow-copy, please let us know in the reporting post that goes up on November 20th if they touch the effigy. If they do not, please let us know on the deaths page! Don't forget to report any dissipations as a whole! Please also let us know if your character is saved by another bearer, or if your character’s shard is taken by the shadow copy for the entire duration of the event. This will not result in any permadeath, but you might get some cool lore! Teehee! If your character defeats a shadow creature, please let us know [HERE]

Comments

[tattooism]

[It is an intoxicating, yet mysterious flavor- this as of yet unnamed woman's Shard. At first it is just cold, like ice, like their tongues might just stick together despite the heat of their mouths. But the snowy bite of that initial "coating" hides a great deal to be tasted. The poignant tragedy of a love unrequited for centuries. The scheming in the shadows that had manipulated king and soldier alike. The abyss of such a powerful「sight」and how it gently warped a mind.

That, and the perfectly balanced hints of sweetness, acidity, astringency, bitterness, and umami that one should expect from a fine glass of nihonshu.

A low, husky sound rumbles up Kiritsubo's throat as she feels the head of his cock press up between her thighs, and it turns into a sensual moan as he begins to press inside, the task made all too easy by the slick arousal he had summoned oh so skillfully with the pump of fingers and the suckle of lips. Her hands slip into the demon's hair and through it, welcoming him with a twine of arms around his neck and sharp, darkly painted nails that scratch over shoulders and along the high vertebrae of his spine. One more moment she indulges him in his reward, but then-

She bites, the slightly sharp fangs of a tanuki catching in his bottom lip before she releases him with a husky laugh, rolling her hips upward in offer to swallow every inch she is fed. Wanting to, the hunger still throbbing and urgent in the depths of her belly. But she doesn't question it, not yet. Her kind were a lusty species known in the world of spirits for their high libido. She had never been satisfied with just cumming once. Or twice. Or thrice.]

How do I taste, Sebastian... ?

[She had not yet asked the other shard-bearers she had lain with. They were not the poetic types. Just the good fucking type and the cute, needy type. This one, though... This one, she thinks, might provide a very pretty answer.]

[cutlery]

[ The cold is a surprise because it’s so unique. Though Sebastian has greedily sampled a few souls here in Kenos just for the novelty of what’s on offer, it’s still limited. Temperature is so rarely a part of the sensation of sampling a soul. Yet as the flavor develops into more familiar territory, he sinks into it. It’s the impressions of a life, all of its experiences, triumphs, and failures, and they’re represented in decadent, complex taste. His kiss deepens to a level that could be called passionate as he chases hers.

It's not something people ever understand because it’s a sense that no other creature but his sort of demon possesses. But Sebastian has always been certain that if it were something humans had, it would be the sort of thing that started wars. After all, in this moment where he’s greedily sampling both her lips, it’s all nothing short of hedonistic bliss. And that’s only a taste, not a true bite.

…Which.

That husky sound is met first with a pleased noise of his own. It’s a low, velvety hum of satisfaction, and his gaze is lidded under his long lashes with— Lust? Gluttony? Maybe both, in this case. But his attention is quick to focus again at the bite. It draws him out of the near reverie, and he laughs as well as he passes his tongue over the little bite mark left on his inner lip. ]

Hm, the taste of you does linger…

[ He hums again, but it’s more playful now since he can’t help but joke about where his mouth had just been... It’s a note to draw out the answer as he moves his hands to her hips. He pulls her down as he pushes in until their hips are flush, and he’ll just savor the feeling of her around him while he gives the rest of the answer. ]

Before I even catch a proper taste, it is hidden away. I do not often catch temperature, but your first impression is icy—guarded. But past it… Mm, the complexity that comes only from a life full of experience, and yours has more than most. The sweetness of love, the astringent notes of clever machinations, and a depth of flavor of something I cannot place, but it permeates you. It is lovely indeed. I have sampled nothing like it.

[ He has a feeling she’ll be satisfied with the florid nature of the answer. Her “sight” feels similar to his “taste”, at least with how she’s explained it. It’s a part of both of them that just is, and it can only be explained through such pretty words to others.

Yet while he’s perfectly capable of holding a conversation, he doesn’t forget that he has another task before him. His hands move up just a bit to her waist as he pulls back until just his head remains inside before smoothly pushing back. He’ll start with an easy, luxurious pace, since he imagines she has no problem with leading him to what she wants. ]

—Though it is just as rare that I would be able to catch such a sampling while indulging otherwise. [ He leans in again like he might steal another greedy taste, but he dips to her jawline to kiss at her neck. Sebastian knows better than to indulge too much, lest his ravenous hunger take over his good sense. Instead, he just murmurs against her skin coyly. ] You spoil me.

[tattooism]

[How delicious it is, to listen to the answer to the question she was so curious about with such a lovely dick sheathed full and deep inside of her. As he speaks, as she lets that handsome voice drift into her keen ears, she luxuriates in the moment, her nails tracing slowly up and down his neck and back with her hips aquiver, seemingly caught up in the physical lust of it all while hanging on his every word in reality. It is no effort at all for her to adjust around him, so subtly that she is confident no human would ever notice beyond attributing the sensation to perhaps a trick of their mind, but-

They both know of their mutual penchant for changing faces and shapes by now. That nice cock of his was one he had chosen by design, with purpose, as she imagines he had chosen everything, from the exact height and the cut of jaw to the length of fingers and the precise shade of his hair. Her insides shift around him, oh so subtly, to the perfect size and depth to match her preferences on how stretched she liked to feel, how stuffed. Certain keywords make her hum excitedly as he relates his verdict, icy, complex, love, machinations...

Ah. So her love was still sweet, despite all the blood and the pain and the sacrifice that had come of it from her, from the ignorant... and from those who wanted no part in it, ever since her ex-lover's head had been severed from his body that dreary, rainy day so many centuries ago. But it needed to be done, and she's done it, so now... the only thing left to do was to decide which sort of world she would continue to nurture that love in. It had to be strong enough that he could not easily break it, free enough that she could watch him indulge every instinct, every whim without shackle...]

I trusted you would be able to find the words for me to understand... and I know of no woman who is not flattered to be called unique...

[Nothing like it. So complimentary. So pleasing, now, as he pulls free from her only far enough to slide back in, slow and slick. For the moment, that was just what she wanted, some building heat in the background of a conversation stimulating in ways that a body could not quite replicate, no matter how she adored what the body could. Like how her spine arches and her lips part again when he moves closer, like she's about to welcome him back to her tongue to further explore the taste of her soul... but he doesn't mean to truly go there, and she doesn't mean to let him (not yet), and her mouth shuts with a click of fangs and a rumble of affection as his kisses press to jaw and throat instead.]

I am a creature of apas... perhaps that is where the ice comes from.

[The spirits of her world were aligned to the elements, to agni and vayu and apas and prithvi, and her talents with that sort of magic lay there, but... That isn't it. She knows it isn't. To live as long as she has, to plan the things that she has...]

And I have been called a cold woman before... but you do not think I am cold, do you... ?

[She certainly doesn't feel it. Her body is flushed with heat, the efforts of her first climax have left her pale skin marked lightly in places with faint sweat, and her sex is so warm, so welcoming. So is her voice, when she tips her head to whisper in his ear.]

After all... My kind are know for their lusts. So as long as you spoil me...

[A hand traces down each vertebrae she can easily reach before her touch leaves his back and finds one of his hands, guiding him oh so helpfully over the body-warm metal on her pierced nipple, the colorful ink of the tattoo of a deadly wasp on rich honeycomb that oozed over her left breast.]

I'll spoil you~

[cutlery]

Oh—

[ He can’t help make a soft noise of surprise, but pleased surprise as he feels her clench around him in a unique way. This was a skill they may share, but admittedly, it’s not one that Sebastian had ever used in quite this context. He was a bit more attached to his chosen shapes than she was in that he tended to select them for each Covenant and didn’t change them.

But otherwise, he just listens without interrupting. His attention is focused on her, but it’s not overly intense. He’s just as intrigued by how she’ll take the assessment, really. It’s not something he gives without asking, since it’s the kind of information that can be unsettling. Because it is most strongly a sense of taste, it’s a solid reminder that they could be prey… But he doubts she would feel that way.

He mouths at her neck with the same casual but sensual pace that he rocks his hips. There’s a clear sense that he’s an experienced lover, sure, but also that he’s a man not as easily taken to lust as others. So, most importantly, he’s patient. They can build up the tension and pace gradually, and in fact, that’s what he tends to prefer. He sucks at her skin just enough to leave a little mark as she leans towards his ear. He hums a pleased note against her as he draws his lips away, and she guides his hand with no resistance to her breast. ]

Not at all… Your embrace is so very warm. How could I ever call you cold? [ He catches her nipple piercing on the tip of his pinky as he draws it up, giving it just a little tug as he pulls his hand back. ] So, it will be my pleasure to lavish you in attention.

[ But after giving the little tug, he palms her breast fully with his thumb under her pierced nipple. In time with those thrusts, he flicks under her nipple to catch the piercing, then lets it fall. It’s a rhythm of its own, and the fall of the ring matches up with when he’s deepest inside her. ]

Though, I must ask… What kind would that be? I only know of one particularly known for their lusty nature, but you do not strike me as a succubus.

[tattooism]

[Kiritsubo would find that such a shame, honestly, not to employ their... certain skills in all things, including this intimate field. She has had sex in all variety of shapes, sometimes even taken on forms specifically to allow her "friends" to play with them or act upon forbidden desires and grudges. That could be fun, depending. And if she truly wanted to, she could make herself more sensitive, make it easier for a lover to hit those places inside of her that would make her moan- but she isn't in any rush this time. And she highly doubts this lover is going to need help.

And he spoke so very eloquently... so atop the fact that she got to play a game while they indulged... ? How lucky.]

Oh, I've met some lovely succubi... incubi, too...

[And they made the most exquisite lovers. Some of her favorite one night stands were of that persuasion. And if she smirks somewhat knowingly when she says incubus, as if she might find some sort of similarity between this man between her legs now and such demonic species, well.]

Perhaps you haven't heard of us, if you've been in Europe for so long...

[A long, low hum of desire rumbles up her throat as she arches into the pleasing rhythm of thrust and flick, the tug on the silver ring pierced through a taut, blossom pink nipple. The long, pale legs she had splayed eagerly to welcome him now wrap tight and possessive around Sebastian's hips, her heels digging into his lower back as if to spur him on.]

Isn't it dull for me to just tell you... ? Perhaps I shall have you fuck the hints out of me, instead...

[cutlery]

[ The corners of his eyes quirk into just a little more of a smile at the tone she uses for the word “incubus”. It could be confirmation, but it’s also nothing that he minds giving. It’s easy to find out that the suave, handsome man named Sebastian Michaelis is a demon if someone spent some time looking. Or just asked, honestly. But just as is the case with her name, it’s a bit more fun for tricksters to simply not.

…But it also wouldn’t be the first time he’d been accused of being one or the other, depending on which sex suited his Covenant better.

Her observation gets him to give a half shrug, since it’s distinctly possible. He’s learned much in Kenos, he’d argue, but he knows there’s still much he has to learn. What he does not, though, are the steps of the dance they’re engaged in. The dig of her heels into his back makes him plant an encouraging kiss on her neck, but it’s her words that turns it into a full laugh. ]

My— Is that a possibility?

[ If it is, well. He has his work cut out for him, doesn’t he? With how her legs wrap around him, he hums thoughtfully, then shifts to encourage her to move with him so that he doesn’t have to pull out. He moves to a sitting position with her in his lap, but it better aligns her chest towards his face. As deft as his fingers are, there’s more he can do with his tongue since it adds temperature to the mix. But naturally, he doesn’t stop chatting as he hoists her up. ]

Well, I do love a challenge. And with my curiosity so piqued? My, I hope I live up to such high expectations.

[tattooism]

[It could be used as confirmation... but she isn't going to. She feels close, the sensation of searching and getting "warmer... warmer...", almost "hot"... But no, it's not quite right. She could「see」the lusts fairly dripping off members of those more demonic species, the "prints" of countless hands that had touched their skin, let alone the aromas her naturally keen nose tended to sense wafting off them, evidence of lover after lover clinging to their skin. This man here... He isn't like that, no matter how skilled or dedicated he was proving to be.]

Oh, it's possible.

[For a secret she didn't actually care that much about keeping. But could he do it? She really wants to see if he can. Reading cues of the body were second nature to a woman as lusty as she was, so he only needs to suggest for her to follow, oh so helpfully shifting along with him to end up in his lap, clenching eagerly on his dick. Her arms wrap loosely around his neck for a moment, tongue sliding over her bottom lip and offering a brief glimpse of the Shard embedded in it.]

So let's play~ For every good moan... you can have a hint of mine... or a question of your own.

[She was so generous! Kiritsubo chuckles with amusement, breathy with pleasure, her fingers dragging temptingly over Sebastian's skin, up the back of his neck he had denied her the pleasure of inking and into his hair before she leaves him to raise her arms above her own head, stretching with a groan before letting her hands fall back behind her head, fingers lacing as her spine arches and she makes a shameless offering of her breasts, performing... no, perhaps that is a hint in and of itself. It is barely a performance she needs to put effort into at all. It's natural. Just like how she whispers, husky and goading,]

But they have to be good ones.

[cutlery]

[ As she clenches around him, he tilts his head back with a warm sigh as he just enjoys the feeling and the shiver it sends up his spine. It’s rare for him to end up bedding someone that’s as experienced in the little flexes and gestures that only come from copious experience. So for once, he’ll allow himself the similar rare experience of luxuriating, since this is a case where he doesn’t have to make up for someone else’s lack. ]

That sounds fair, certainly.

[ Now that she’s in his lap, he moves his hands down further to cup under her ass and better support her weight. He lifts her a bit, but as she’s brought back down, he rocks his hips up to thrust into her as deep as he can go. In terms of depth, this isn’t the best position, but the intimacy elsewhere at least makes up for it. As she languidly stretches, for example, he needs no hint since that was the purpose of moving in the first place. His continued response comes with a laugh in his voice. ]

And fun.

[ It is sincere fun, after all. Even if lust isn’t his vice of choice, it’s still fun to indulge.

He plants a kiss on her breast sweetly first, but then moves to that pierced nipple. He takes it into his mouth and curls his tongue through the hoop so that he can run the tip of his tongue over the sensitive flat of it. He sucks at her nipple as he starts to rock his hips, but if she starts to move herself, he’ll occupy his hands elsewhere. ]

[tattooism]

[Kiritsubo didn't always play games. Sometimes, she just needed a good hard fuck, a smoke, and a shower before she went back to her business, other times she wanted it all-night tantric, slow and heavy and luxuriating in the sheets. Her moods in the realm of sex could be as mercurial as her wanderlusts in other areas, but what didn't change was how often she wanted it. It wasn't wrong to think of succubi, for the way their desires manifested was not so different... It was just that hers sprang from purely physical urges that needed sating, whereas a succubi's was more an issue of devilish nature that needed feeding.]

Oh, I am very fair~

[And very fun, voice rumbling into a husky noise as fingers dig in to the meat of her ass and lift. Obligingly, her tights tighten with a quiver about his waist so that she can begin to rock into his lap, far too shrewd and skilled a lover to be temporarily left cross about the lack of depth when it meant that she could instead enjoy the longer game of building, mounting peaks. Her fingers tangle in her own long, pale hair, pulling it into a messy pile atop her head as she watches ardently where those clever lips go, arching her back to pop her hips and offer up her breasts in a single calculated stretch. They stay there a moment as she sighs happily, humming with approval as a warm, wet tongue manipulates the ring, tugging gently on her nipple before he finds the perfect way to apply the attention she had coveted so wantonly at her clit.]

Mmmmm, that's good... how am I ever going to forget about this tongue of yours, Sebastian?

[She isn't, because she doesn't really forget anything- a blessing and a curse for a being as long-lived as she. The encouragement falls easy off her own, shard-pierced tongue as she frees up his hands to grind into his thrusts of her own volition, just carefully enough that she doesn't writhe away from his touch. And because she is fair, like she'd said she was (when she wanted to be), when the first good moan works its way up her throat what follows in its wake... is a hint.]

We have very good memories, my kind, you know... Despite the slander you might hear from other shapeshifters who lucked into being more beloved by the gods~