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

a; asakusa and surrounds, tokyo.

i; it is a normal day in card game land

[ perhaps you arrive on a train. it trundles merrily out of a pitch-black darkness, which seems startling when the fluorescent lighting of a subway station swims quickly into view. the train slows, the speakers crackling out asakusa, eeh, asakusa station. you disembark, climb the stairs to the surface, and yeah - you're in a pretty plain-looking area of a populated city. everything seems normal, people chatting pleasantly as they walk. it's late afternoon, probably, but as you look to the sky a large section of it is occupied by a tear in space through which another blue planet can be seen.

perhaps you wake on a bridge. sakurabashi is an interesting little river crossing, a footbridge with slate tiling underfoot and an odd x-shaped structure. the bench you've awoken on is hard, your hair catching in the branches of the shrubs it is bookended by. foot traffic here is sparse, perhaps in part because one arm of the 'x' is drenched in an oily black ichor that suddenly seems to vanish, shearing the stone and metal beneath it as if it hadn't existed at all.

perhaps you are simply there. before you is a shop, unassuming on a quiet street. "card capital 2" is emblazoned in large yellow font above you, and in smaller letters on the door in front. the stairs invite you up - or you could find yourself distracted by the smells of fried foods wafting from the okonomiyaki restaurant below it. should you climb the stairs, chrono will be there, playing a card game at a table with a young girl. he looks up with a practiced smile, one might recognise as that of a (happy) retail worker. ]

Hey, welcome in! [ aaand his expression will falter as soon as he realises you're a fellow kenosian. ] Oh.

[ the walls are glass cabinets filled floor-to-ceiling with cards on display. do any catch your interest? ]

ii; or not so normal

[ the zeroth dragons arrive several hours after the dreamers, with a pitched screech that seems to cut the very air to ribbons.

a flash of light marks their descent, gyze's emblem searing white against the quickly darkening sky for a long moment.

end of the world, dust. from where it tears and razes the hospital to shreds, unnatural purple smoke fills the area. it is like a ravenous beast, leathery wings beating with such force that winds knock back the trees. but as you approach, dust will notice. its eyes will focus, intelligence evident in the way it suddenly stills and watches you, like a predator ready to pounce. upon its chest, the emblem of gyze shimmers, ultraviolet.

distant sea, megiddo. the stadium where she had appeared is riddled with holes, each roar she makes accompanied by a lightshow of narrow lasers that pierce through the structure as if it were paper. her serpentine form seems to snake endlessly around itself, as if mimicking the roiling ocean. many winglike fins shift and move along her back, directing the small mechanical laser-firing pods that seem to pour from ports in each fin's armour. the emblem of gyze hovers small, blue and blindingly bright over her head like a halo.

zenith peak, ultima. his great feathered wings cast long shadows below him, beautiful and almost holy in appearance. it would be easy to understand how the people of cray once mistook him for a guardian dragon, only to be massacred by the greatsword he carried. unlike his brethren, ultima simply waits. the emblem of gyze sits between the wings on his back, so white it blends in with his scales.

the building below ultima is a shell of steel and crumbling walls, but there's enough structural integrity to climb its steps. at its top you may challenge the deity of destruction himself, in the form of a young man chrono knows very well, and his final zeroth dragon.

it is at the foot of this ruined building that chrono can be found, pinned by ultima's watchful eye. ]

I'm- he's there. [ who? the dreamer? ] Looks like a fight. Never done this directly before, but how hard can it be?

[ context post for chrono's tokyo jaunt, use the info as you wish or tag him directly here! ]

b; knowhere.

[ holy shit dude, space. moving like a little kid at the zoo - up the stairs, down the railing, across whatever platforms and beams there are - chrono is fascinated by the stretch of stars beyond the limits of knowhere.

it reminds him of the view from the edge of the tree of life, but more... beautiful? with less baggage. sure, there's still the taste of a bad dream in his mouth, but it's less raw.

eventually chrono can be found stargazing out of one of the giant eye ports, legs dangling rather stupidly off the edge of the docking platform. his eyes follow the streak of a meteor in the very distance, keenly alight with interest. as a small ship comes in to dock, he doesn't even move, letting the energy from the engines blow his hair and clothing back. there's an air of wistfulness about him, despite his sharp gaze.

later, in the central hub, he's found a (hopefully non-alcoholic) drink, nursing it in his hands. he looks pensive, and catches the eye of a few alien residents as he looks around. there was a mission to complete, probably? he should really get on that. maybe he locks eyes with you, friend or foe. ]

c; metaverse (maruki's palace).

[ the twilight corridors are awful, and chrono hates them.

the effigy of his mother is as real as the last time the image had been implanted in his mind, though this time she calls him over - waving with chrono's closest friends surrounding her. dear, won't you introduce me? especially to this one! she indicates to a flustered (and silver-eyed) kazuma, who has tokoha beside him, slyly grinning at his misfortune.

chrono does not move, aside from the shake of absolute fury to his shoulders. ]

Shut the hell up. [ chrono, dear? won't you- ] Shut the hell up!!

[ the illusion never fully grips him, and he's tearing off further into the palace as quick as he can. was this some sick joke, that he has to relive gyze and the stride gate in one stupid dream trip... thing? but this clearly wasn't his own world, so what the fuck was going on???

deeper into the palace, a dragon appears for a long enough moment to tear a shadow apart. when it vanishes into wisps, chrono can be seen in a strange new outfit. ]

c; wildcard.

[ go wild!! any world is fair game. also happy to write any starters for anyone who prefers, just hmu on the plotting post or discord!! ]

[ The city is "normal" but it's still a bit strange for someone who's used to ye olde fantasy medieval aesthetic and technology. Even if he has been in Kenos for some time. He wanders, exploring and trying to see what he can find in the different corners of the city. It's a fascinating place. For some reason, he finds himself drawn to this particular little shop. "Card Capital 2".

Huh.

So he climbs the stairs and finds a familiar face. Dimitri blinks and then smiles. ]

Oh - I wasn't quite expecting to see you here. Good day!

[ dimitri is a much more welcome sight than many other potential options, but chrono can't quite plaster his smile back on. he finishes his last turn with his opponent - appears to win, but the girl seems grateful anyway - packs up his deck into a box and walks over to acknowledge him properly. ]

Hey. Some day it's been.

[ he's bone-tired, but somehow the sights and sound of his own home were re-energising him. ]

How're you finding this one?

...different from my own.

[ Dimitri flashes a little sheepish smile. ]

Yourself? I didn't interrupt anything, did I? You seem to be fitting right in.

Yeah, kinda figured that might be the case.

[ dimitri would probably have felt more at home on cray, where despite its advanced technology, more traditional knights were still an important part of society.

chrono looks to the cabinets, and his hand tightens around his deckbox. ]

I'd hope so. This is my home, after all.

...is it?

[ Dimitri gasps slightly. ]

I hadn't realized. How does it make you feel to see all of this again?

There's not any easy way to tell.

[ it's a populated city with a lot going on. it could've belonged to any of the more modern earthlings in kenos's ranks, but chrono had immediately known it was his, in no small part thanks to the vision of planet cray taking up half the sky. and, of course, the tug of the dreamer shard.

coming here to his workplace / place of origin / comfort spot was natural. playing vanguard with the kids was natural. and yet... ]

I don't know. [ he looks troubled. dimitri's presence had brought him back to reality. ] This isn't really home, I don't think.

What makes you say that?

[ Dimitri's brow furrows a little. He's not quite used to this, but it feels... very dreamlike. So he can't really question any of the logic. ]

I don't know enough about your home to say one way or the other, but I'm prepared to take your word on it.

There's things missing.

[ the store manager wasn't here, for starters. the black ichor falling from the sky hadn't begun this early, from what he could remember, either. and it just feels off, everyone moving on with their day despite the danger outside.

he huffs, heading over to the counter of the store. the keys are where he remembers them being, at least. ]

I should probably be doin' something useful, but I couldn't help but come here first.

chrono shindou | meridian savant

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