THE ADVOCATE ORACLE - A RIP VAN WINKLE IN TIME

[beleos]

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

Comments

[sheezit]

[ ... well, if that isn't just his luck.

In truth, he didn't have much of a chance to talk to Link after the incident-- and maybe it'll never not be weird that he can apologize to someone for having effectively killed them, but if he can't challenge the peculiar laws of Kenos, then he can at least make sure he doesn't squander his chances. But with so much lingering tension between them, he simply didn't get to when returning that very special Shard to him.

Would he want to talk now? Judging by that hand on his sword hilt, that's questionable. ]

Hey, hey, wait-- [ He holds both palms out, as unarmed as he can ever be. ] I'm not looking to start a fight, at least not for as long as you're not trying to shatter this world's Shard or something. You're not, right?

[ An attempt at getting through to him, but it's always wise to establish they're not active enemies right now. ]

[bakedapple]

[ While Shez's hands are empty, Link is not reassured. The memory of a weapon suddenly manifesting in Shez's empty palm is fresh in Link's mind — and so is the horrible, searing pain of it slashing across his body, splattering the snow with blood.

His stance tightens as he glares at him. Realistically, Link should kill him. He knows he should. He has every reason to, and Shez has every reason to try to kill him again.

But... his good nature and his desire for peace have not yet fizzled and faded away by the strain of all that's happened to him. So, he hesitates. ]

No. [ A simple, blunt answer. ] Are you?

[sheezit]

[ Again, he can't really blame Link or anyone for staying on guard around him. No matter his good intentions or willingness to extend a palm in truce, the truth is that very hand is always potentially armed, a blade always within reach as long as he wills it into a physical form.

Maybe it should bring him pride, to be seen as a constant threat in potential. Instead, these odd powers of his push him further away from the path of mutual trust in the same measure as they encourage the individual urge to survive. ]

'Course not. Besides, this Oracle probably wants us all off duty for as long as this trial lasts. No way to enjoy the view if we're fighting all the time, right?

[ Who knows if this minimal attempt at humor will even get across, but what he means is that he's not looking for any sort of fight. It's no doubt naive of him, and most Zenites would probably not hesitate to leave these last embers of the old universe to fade out and die behind them, but if the Advocate does genuinely wish to get to know these infinite worlds, then for a Meridian it can only mean the urge to save them. At the very least, Link should be able to take comfort in knowing Shez means no harm against any of these world Shards.

As for more personal motivations, well. He can only hope his efforts to keep a certain pair of Shards safe would earn him a bit of trust. ]

[bakedapple]

[ It did. It earned him more than just "a bit" of trust. But that's precisely the problem, isn't it? How Link reconcile that shame? Knowing that an opponent, one who bested him, also chose to pity him? Knowing that this person technically did a better job protecting Zelda's Shard from Meridians than he did?

The severity in his expression wavers. He looks Shez up and down, clearly in the midst of some internal argument with himself, before slowly letting his sword hand drop back to his side. Link doesn't know why this is happening, why fate has chosen to push the two men together in such a peaceful, non-combative place... but he appears to accept it. ]

We're not off-duty.

[ That's all he says as he turns and takes a seat beneath the sorry-looking little tree. But not in the same place he was sitting before — he's left space for Shez to sit beside him. ]

[sheezit]

[ Whatever internal argument had been crossing Link's mind or whatever tension still lingered between them, Shez recognizes the gesture and words for what they are: an olive branch. ]

Guess we can at least call it a break.

[ It's his own peace (or truce) offering, a compromise instead of pushing his own perspective further. And so he wastes no more time, having a seat by his side beneath the smaller tree, basket deposited between them as though leaving some space. No matter his usual optimism or even the peaceful atmosphere around them, he knows this isn't one of his friendly outings, filled with snacks and chatter and getting to know each other; it is, nonetheless, an attempt at understanding. ]

I haven't been through many trials before, you know. [ He starts, busying himself with folding the borrowed towel over; there won't be any need for it, since the basket is empty. ] But it sounds like the Advocate wants us to witness a fraction of those multiple worlds out there, and I can't really say I get why, but it sure beats whatever I had to do for the last one.

[ Is this being broadcast like the Harbinger's was? Who knows. But that means Link must have heard of how Shez had to face off against and kill a Shadow copy of a friend; how much he hated the experience is left between the lines. ]

[bakedapple]

[ When Shez reaches over to fiddle with his basket, Link can't help but turn his head to watch his hand anxiously. Although he'd accepted that Shez means him no harm... well, it's just difficult to let it go completely. His reaction is not severe, at least; rather than giving his movement a panicked look, it's more like an uneasy glance, before he sees that the basket itself is empty. ]

...Yeah. This one's being a lot kinder to us than the last.

[ Is it because of who and/or what it is? Those aligned with the Advocate are known for their kindness, their loyalty, their compassion for others. What does it mean, then, for the Shard of the Dreamer from Link's world to have been aligned with the Advocate, he wonders? For Shez to be an Advocate?

The thought makes him frown. After a pause, Link twists to open one of the leather packs hanging from his belt. ]

Here.

[ He removes a small, plastic-wrapped roll of melon pan from the pack and holds it out towards Shez. Not that either of them are able to read the Japanese printed on the label, but it's clearly food either way. ]

Everyone else is here eating, so...

[sheezit]

[ A wiser person might stare at that melon pan a moment longer, give it some second thought before taking it from Link's hands. In past times, Arval would probably be yowling in his head right now, advising him against accepting food from an enemy that could very well be out for revenge, and perhaps saved Shez's life in the same way they did so many times.

But a betrayal and painful resolution later, Arval is no longer with him. For better or worse, Shez continues to choose trust, no matter the consequences. ]

Thanks! [ He reaches for the proffered treat without ceremony, casual like he would with any other friendly acquaintance. ] I don't have any money right now, but I'll repay you once we're back.

[ ... they would get back, right? They've been doing this for days now, and it feels much longer than the previous trial, but the Advocate had to have a destination in mind, so to speak. A purpose, before it would choose to side with either Meridian or Zenith. And once they did... would they just resume this endless cycle of violence? Turn against each other, drag the innocent and the vulnerable into their fight?

Again, a wiser person would know better than to expect any different from a war, to extend their hand in friendship and hope to put an end to all conflict. But Shez? ]

Or maybe I could try my hand at replicating this? [ Eyes firmly trained on his snack as he tears through the wrapping. ] Yuri's the one who's all about baking, but I'm not so bad, myself. Just need to figure out a recipe...

[ Shez is not at all a wise person. ]

[bakedapple]

[ Once Shez takes the offered food, Link withdraws his hand and props his elbow on top of his bent knee. While he doesn't turn to face Shez as they chat, his head is turned towards him slightly, to watch him out of the corner of his eye. Perhaps he's channeling the wilderness he's so accustomed to, or maybe it's just a metaphor, but he looks like a nervous animal, cautiously watching a human that he kinda wants to inch closer towards. ]

Replicate, like... cook another one? Do you know how to cook?

[ His hands, hanging loosely from where his arms are propped on his knees, fidget with nervous energy. He's trying to have a conversation. ]

Well, it's bread... but it has a unique texture, so, um, replicating it might be hard. But, you think you or Yuri could?