kenoslogs | THE ADVOCATE ORACLE - A RIP VAN WINKLE IN TIME

THE ADVOCATE ORACLE - A RIP VAN WINKLE IN TIME

Sweet dreams are made of Bliss

As the twilight falls, and bearers begin to tuck in for their evenings on the night of the 15th of March (OOC time) and whether they tuck themselves into bed fully, or simply drift away in the middle of their dinner, work, indulgences, or what have you; bearers will fall into a deep, deep sleep. Perhaps you slump in your chair, or you wrap your arms around a teddy bear, or partner, or cup a precious shard in your sleep, it doesn’t matter, because as you drift away, into a sleep that seems to tug you under like the undertow itself, a question will echo in bearer’s minds: “If given the choice, would you show compassion in the face of adversity?”

It sticks with you, even as you fall into a dreamless sleep. As if it rotates in your mind, over and over, letting you worm over that. You know for certain what it is, that it is the calming, soothing voice of the Oracle, reaching out to you across the ether, telling you – promise you – that if you accept its promise, you will find that the Oracle could be in your hands. That thought leads you to dream of something else – of home, or your loved ones – of what you are fighting this war for. Even as you dream, you feel a presence next to you, and unlike the Harbinger’s winding, rough digging, this is more akin to a friend, who is asking you soft, coaxing questions. Things like: what was your childhood like? What were your friends like? What did you do? You cannot help but think of them, think of your home and your loved ones. Of where you came from, and how it made you what you are.

The advocate seeks to understand you, and where you come from. You can feel it, that overwhelming Acceptance and love from it, even as you reminisce, compelled to answer the multitude of questions, you can feel something building behind you, around you. “Don’t you want them all to understand this?” the impression is given through communion, and you cannot help but answer: yes.

Click your Heels together, Dorothy!

As you awake for the first time, it’s alien, the world that meets you. New smells fill your nostrils, new sights, the gravity is perhaps different than you’ve gotten used to on Kenos, even those slight shifts enough to make the world feel wholly different. You remember the advocate’s words, and it wants you to feel what it feels. Understanding. Compassion, and perhaps there is a sense that doing so would hurt yourself in turn, if you understood too much. That is the advocate’s way, after all, isn’t it?

You feel an inexorable, slight tug in your chest. Something subtle and gentle, the slightest of sensations, that gives you a direction. You know it, your mind only just now comprehending the advocate’s confusing impressions via communion, that there is something of this world’s… Soul/center/heart or whatever word you want to use for it. Something about this world that will help you along your path, and help you with the results you so desire. You know it will not guarantee a victory, but surely it will help. Especially as your numbers dwindle from world to world. You are left with an impression from the Advocate -- if you die, they cannot bring you back. There is apology in this, but alone, one oracle is limited. Only united, can they truly change your fate.

The lingering presence of the advocate starts to fade. You know this is a bearer’s world, if not your own. You look around, to see perhaps a familiar face nearby? Or perhaps you are alone. Does it matter? You know that this place belongs to a bearer, but whether they are a friend or an enemy, one has to begin to determine that. You’ll need your wits, you’ll need your strength and resolve to make it to the end of this, won’t you?

After all, as bearers were recently reminded: this is War. This is not simply the fate of this world, but perhaps all, as it will require you to find the answer to this question. So you start to move, you start to look around, explore, and search. For the soul of each world, for the bearers that lie dreaming within, and your foes that will seek you out. Stay steadfast, for the way out will come, if you make it to the end. The longer you spend in each world, however, the more the shadows look darker, and deeper. Hungrier. The more the spaces seem smaller or compressed. As if there is something gnawing away at the sides, making their way to the heart.

Around the world in ~~60 seconds~~ 12 hours

When you find yourself at the end, when you close your eyes – only a blink, but it hangs, as if the momentary motion is enough to suspend you into a suspended space before. You can see the two options stretched out before you – metaphysically – the impression of it. A long, long shadow cast over one. As if there is a presence hovering over and above, like waiting jaws, ready to strike. In the other, there remains…nothing. It is not pleasant, it is not comforting, it simply… is. A sense that there is now a lack of anything, almost like it had never existed before.

Does this world have value? You can feel the Advocate ask. Do you want to give them a chance to live? Or does should this world cease, is there nothing here to save?

And though you are compelled, required to answer, you know this question for what it is. Short-sighted. Both, in the end, will lead to its destruction, but which will you choose? Will you allow the world to continue, even with that long shadow cast, like a hungry beast with snapping jaws; or will you erase it from existence and spare it that oncoming apocalypse?

Catch [???] Winks

The last world’s fate decided, bearers float in an endless sea of stars. You can see them all, spread before you. Intermittently, they wink out, swallowed into the darkness, consumed as the shadows, that inky-black nothingness grows ever-larger. It looks upon you, bearers. It is nothing, but you have its attention, and your blood runs cold, your limbs frozen. You cannot move, you cannot speak, you cannot breathe. You feel it, the power of being drawn into it, like it wants to consume you. Like it knows you.

T̸̢̼̯͓̬̘́̀̋̆͊h̷͔̣̱̝͍̬̣͕̄̂͗̆͒͌͜ͅẹ̶̱̩̅͒̿̇͠ ̵̭̹͇͖̔̀ṃ̸̢̧͙̟̼̜͌͆̍͝͝ͅo̴̟̞̓̆̇̐̆͊̽͆̂̀r̶͈̺̮̠͙̗͌ę̸̤̻̈́͐͂̓̊͐̂͆ ̵̡̛͎̩̳̤͔͚̱̼̆̒̓y̴̺̞̹̺̝̤͂ǫ̷̡̣̱̥͊̈́̓͑̕͘ű̵̼͜͜ ̶̨̨̝̟̘̱͇̲̻̪̊͂̽̈̒͊f̴̱̐͌̌̓̋̔́̀͝i̶͖̤͎̬̝̦͒̂g̸̳̰̟̀̓̽̈́̐h̸̼͍̮͎̊̅͗͊̈͋̽̀͘t̴͔͚́̓,̷̨̧̱̠̙̠̙̱̒̍̽̾ ̷̖̰̼̬̟͐̊̂t̶̖̄͂̅̃̍͐̊̑̅͜͝h̴̢̛͙̪̞̫̝̺̋̅̿͛̇̚͝͝ͅͅȩ̶͉̤͍̠́̈͑̏͋̚͘͝ ̸̢̨̧͚̖̤̪̬̪̀̉̐͗̂͆͑̚̕̚c̴̠̩̳͎̲̪͔̟̈́͂̉͑́l̶̡̲̻̣̘̏́ͅo̶̢̧͔͈̬̳̰͈̝̻͌̋̆̃͒͗̏͘ş̴̪̺̣̥̎̽̿͗̒́͛̕̚̚e̴̺͍̤͖͂̇͑͂̋͂̆̾r̴̨̩̈́͋͠ ̷̧͚̲̩̖̋͒̉́͗y̶̘̖̝̑̈͊ǒ̵͚̽u̵͎͍̇̀̏̊̕͝ŕ̷͎̜̘͙̀̋ ̶͇̲̝̞̖̝̣̘̝̬͋d̷͔͈͔̀̿õ̴̝̯͇̹̘̏͗͜ö̵͚͓͆m̵͉̦̫̥̦̞̫͐̆͐̿͊͒͌͋͜.̷̼͈̻̥̜̾̏͐̾̐͆͘͜

You gasp, as you startle awake, and open your eyes for the first time in a long time.

CODING

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

OPPARA TEMPLE TOUR (OTA)

[Given Liem’s homesickness, it is no surprise that his time back in Taldor finds him visiting Oppara’s temples. These are some of the places he’s missed most in his months, nearly years away from his homeland. Almost as soon as he awakens in the dream of almost-home the Advocate has brought him to, he leaves behind the busy streets to seek out the sanctums he’s most familiar with.

He can be found in the House of Dawn’s Redemption, subtle shadows of magic draped over him as he lingers in the temple’s central courtyard, where priests and worshippers alike pursue their business under the open sky, in full view of the sun. Thoughts of a different sun goddess loom large in his mind as he considers Sarenrae’s own mercy.

He visits the Basilica of the Last Man, too, contemplating its powerless relics and fallen glory, and the fate of its dead god. Thinking on the fate of Golarion’s other gods, should Meridian’s efforts prove fruitless.

Later in the day he visits the Temple of the Upheld and Golden Rose, walking through the well-kept gardens as late-afternoon sunlight slants over trees, statues and topiary. In the fluted, open-air cathedral, the oldest of Shelyn’s known temples, soft music plays to honour the goddess of love and beauty.

But of course, the first place he visits is the Cathedral of Coins: his home temple, so achingly familiar it sends a pang of longing through him to once again glimpse its grand marble facade. Ironically, most of the people he sees within seem the same as he remembers; there were few remaining in his church who could be considered close with him. But he fondly regards the yellow stained-glass windows, the familiar architecture of the soaring ceilings, the white-and-gold robed clergy attending to business within. And as soon as he sets foot within the echoing sanctum, he knows: somewhere here is the shard of the dreamer.]

WILDCARD

[Hit me here if we plotted something, or reach out if you’d like to figure out something else! I'm totally down to do non-temple Oppara threads as well, of course. My plotting comment is here, or you can hit me on my event plotting plurk instead. Info on Oppara can be found in my world write-up, or the Pathfinder wiki.]

[ Matt was having a shockingly nice time, given the givens. Which means he should probably have seen this coming.

It started with your classic horror movie did you hear that? Then the realization that by that, Matt really meant those screams. And, well, a Shard-Bearer's work is never done. Matt bid Sebastian a hasty adieu and ran off.

Zombies are a known thing on Matt's world, but they have more to do with enslavement of the living through preternatural means than reanimation of the dead. And they definitely don't try to eat people (unless they're told to, he guesses??). So it takes him a little while to figure out what's going on: insensible cannibals staggering around the ship, sinking their teeth into everyone in reach.

He did promise Link he'd try to be defensive in a combat scenario. So his first move is to ward off the first occupied cabin he comes across. ]

You'll be safe if you stay put, [ he says to the stunned occupants, as a gleaming filigree shield fills the doorway. ] No matter what you hear, don't come out!

[ At this point, he's forgotten the cool remove he'd nourished just hours before. "No worries, it's all just a dream." Maybe the other passengers aren't real, or in real danger, but the bloody corpses he's encountered certainly look like they've experienced dire consequences.

So he's feeling some heightened urgency. He probably shouldn't be taking these corners so fast, though. ]

[For all that Liem has done his fair share of roaming through the Campania’s upper decks over the course of the day, he’s managed to get a bit of a jump on the zombie situation by virtue of exploring the lower decks—instead of being busy waltzing—as the first of the horde begin to make their way up from the ship’s cargo area. He is not particularly equipped for zombie-killing; the only weapon on him is a single dark-bladed dagger, and the white robes he fell asleep in are already stained with gore. But he does at least have experience with walking corpses, and compared to some of the undead he’s had to put down, these ones at least are easy enough to confront.

The resulting bloodbath makes searching for the world shard a hell of a challenge. The scream-filled corridors keep Liem busy as he makes his way through the ship, trying to save as many passengers as he reasonably can and kill all the zombies he comes across. It makes for rather slow going, which means that he, also, is in rather a bit of a hurry.

Though at least Liem can hear the running footsteps of a living person hurrying toward the intersection, and doesn’t automatically start stabbing when Matt careens around the corner and into his person.]

Whoa—

[Trying to pivot out of the way, he grabs at Matt’s chest with his free hand, trying to both steady him and keep him from running bodily into him. Recognition lags a moment behind, so he’s already debating whether he should still be going in for a stab with the blade in his other hand before he realizes who he’s looking at.]

Ma— Matthew. [His mind stutters over the name, auto-correcting partway through. He glances behind him.] Are you being chased?

[ Sometimes, when Matt is in mortal dread--or mortal apprehension, or mortal "high levels of surprise"--his first answer is fire. (Just ask Silco.) On a ship, that strikes him as a uniquely bad idea.

This is probably why, when he barrels straight into somebody, he doesn't set them on fire. His breath catches hard in his throat, the impact jostling the thoughts right out of his head. Matt notes first that the person's reaching for his Shard--very zombie behavior--but that their movements are fluid. Absent the shambling, wrong-legged gait that made his stomach plunge when he first saw it. A fraction of a second later-- ]

Liem. [ Breathless, relieved. A flicker of a smile crosses his face. ] Fancy meeting you here.

[ At the question, Matt frowns, casting a glance over his shoulder. Distant screams and crashes seem to emanate from all directions, but the hallway immediately behind him is empty and still. ]

Technically, [ he allows, still getting his breath back. ] Probably? But I think I got some good distance between them and me, so. [ He registers the blood on Liem's white clothes with sharp concern. ] Are you okay? Are you hurt?

[Liem has a moment to be worried about Matt’s presence here on this zombie-infested ship before reality fully catches up with him and he’s forced to acknowledge that of course Matt is here; all the shard-bearers are. Until their time in this world ends, there isn’t anywhere else for them to go.

That being the case, he can only be relieved that Matt doesn’t presently seem to be injured.]

It’s not a good place to be, [he admits in response to Matt’s quip. (Flirtation? No, given the circumstances, probably just quip.) Liem’s hand falls from his chest as he steps slightly back, regarding Matt soberly.

Registering the object of the younger man’s gaze, he glances down at himself.]

It’s not my blood. [Most of it, at least. One of the zombies might have gotten a chomp in earlier, but Matt doesn’t need to know that. Besides, any wounds he received closer to the outbreak’s beginning have already healed by now.]

Are you heading [—he almost says “up,” toward the area that hasn’t yet been overrun, before he remembers to whom he’s speaking—] down? [Caution colours his tone.] There are a lot more of them that way.

[ Sober regard of Matt reveals that he's looking very typical. Hair a nest, expression inquisitive (shading to relief as Liem explains the blood isn't his). He has a ribbon around his neck, black silk edged with gold, and he's wearing a shirt and trousers of the sort favored in Highstorm. Not surprising, really: He started off his time here living with Amos.

He's not presently injured, it's true. But one of his sleeve cuffs rides up as he smooths himself down, revealing a peek of a recent-ish scar. ]

Sounds like down's where I should be then, yeah. [ His expression shifts to one of faint hope. ] Wherever you're going, though, I could protect you. Make shields and things. We never really got into it, but I was pretty good at that during the attack.

[ The one on Springstar, of course. He doesn't tend to think of what happened in Highstorm the same way, for reasons he hasn't fully unpacked but which likely involve civilian casualties. ]

[Liem’s observation of Matt drifts down his arms as Matt straightens himself out, hands travelling over a body that thankfully seems to be uninjured as of now. The lack of zombie bites is promising, but for just a moment, Liem’s eyes catch on a small mark on one wrist, showing fresh and pink against the pale skin: another kind of bite mark, and one he is intimately familiar with.

When he looks back up at Matt’s face, his expression is carefully neutral.]

During the attack? [he echoes. He assumes Matt must mean Zenith’s attack on Springstar, but he can’t recall having seen Matt there, immediately before or after. In fact, he hasn’t seen Matt around Heliopolis at all in the times he’s been there, and he certainly didn’t note his presence in Meridian’s group communion in the days before the Oracle trial began.

Realization sinks into him reluctantly.]

Ah… [Should he be associating with him, then? During the Oracle trial, their aims are surely not aligned.] I don’t need protection. You would be better served saving your magic for other passengers.

[ Matt can't tell what Liem's expression might mean, even without the barrier of tinted lenses to separate them. But his words, at least, he reads loud and clear. ]

Oh, [ he says, clearly disappointed. ] Well, um, if you're sure ...

Then I guess I'll see you later? [ Something about this feels unfinished, but Matt doesn't know what. Nor is he sure what he might ask Liem to clear things up. "Are you mad at me" is the kind of painfully clingy question he strives never to voice, and besides that, it's inelegant. There are so many other feelings that can move a person. ] Thanks for the tip, about ...

[ He gestures in the direction Liem's come from. Technically there are stairwells down all up and down the Campania, but he recalls there being one nearby. Though before he can make himself walk past, he finds himself adding: ]

Are you sure I can't at least send you off with some good luck?

[Matt’s obvious and immediate disappointment summons an unhappy twinge behind Liem’s ribs. Surely it’s the most reasonable thing in the world for him to keep Zenith’s members at arm’s length, especially in the midst of an Oracle trial. But he cannot help but feel like he’s being unfair to Matt, who is still new to this conflict and who has only ever shown a desire to help the people around him.

He should let Matt go on his way. If he gets mauled by the zombie hoard down below, that’s his business, not Liem’s.

But he can’t stop himself from caring.]

Maybe. I’ll be heading back down, as well; you can come with me if you like.

[It could help his search to have Matt with him, but on some level he knows that isn’t why he offers.]

What are you looking for down there?

Liem Talbott | Meridian | Harbinger

they are night zombies!! they are neighbors!! they have come back from the dead!! ahhhh!

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