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Entry tags:
- !event,
- arcane: silco,
- arknights: gavial,
- black butler: sebastian michaelis,
- culture (the): demeisen,
- divinity original sin: fane,
- enderal: jade the prophetess,
- expanse (the): amos burton,
- fate grand order: tezcatlipoca,
- fate/: rin tohsaka,
- fate/: sakamoto ryouma,
- fire emblem: shez,
- fire emblem: yuri leclerc,
- forgotten realms: raphael,
- howl's moving castle: howl,
- jinba: hayame,
- legend of zelda (the): link,
- life is strange: chloe price,
- oc: liem talbott,
- oc: matt jamison,
- pumpkin scissors: alice l. malvin,
- suikoden: yuber,
- terra e: tony asuka,
- tsubasa reservoir chronicle: subaru
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.
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.
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?
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.
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.
no subject
Also fortunately, the Basilica of the Last Man sees plenty of tourists, so the presence of a centaur woman, while unusual, is not completely unheard of. Hayame is able to wait outside with only a moderate amount of gawping from passersby, until finally Liem arrives at the ancient hilltop temple. As usual, his robed form is draped in subtle shadow, and his eyes are hidden behind his typical dark lenses, so he manages to avoid the worst of the abundant sunshine bathing the hillside.]
I have the dreamer’s shard, [he tells her.] It was in Abadar’s cathedral when I visited, so acquiring it didn’t take especially long.
[Of course, it hadn’t been entirely easy either, but the important thing is that it’s in his possession and they still have most of the day ahead of them.]
From what I can tell, the world shard seems to be somewhere in the eastern part of the city.
no subject
But there is no time to be overwhelmed.]
Good.
[At least he has his own, and there is no damage of a Zenite taking the opportunity for a little revenge to shatter it. It would be one thing if they knew what effects might come of that happening, but since they do not, and can not until the trial releases them...]
Do you need help? I know that I may be of little use to you here, in a place like this, but...
[But she plainly wishes to be. Not just for the sake of Meridian, but for the sake of a man who has been her friend, and whose world she would not seen dishonored or shattered, even if it were a dream conjured up by an oracle. (That's what it is, right? Just a dream-- ?)]
no subject
But where Springstar is diverse, Oppara is uniform in its character—and it far exceeds the other city in pomp and grandeur, even given Springstar’s age and prosperity. The only mercy Hayame might experience in comparison is that, given the wealth of open countryside surrounding Taldor’s capital, the population is not so jam-packed into the city’s limits.]
I would welcome your assistance.
[He means this; even if Hayame is not familiar with the city, her help may prove necessary to actually acquire the world shard, if it turns out to be somewhere difficult, or if Zenith has already laid hands on it.
But admittedly, it is more love for his city than anything else that prompts him to ask,] Have you seen much of the city yet? The western half, where we are now, tends more upperclass; you’ve found yourself next to one of the oldest temples in the country.
no subject
[She answers that quickly enough because it is true, and also because it her knee-jerk reaction to deny anything undignified or strange might have happened to her. But her defensive body language might give it away… that, or the fact that she does rather quickly concede, because it is Liem, that-]
- Well. I thought to, but my attempts to explore were interrupted by some sort of…
[What even were those? Or that whole thing entirely? She purses her lips and looks around as if she might be overheard before leaning down slightly to say something that sounds insane to her, as if she expects to be told she’d been hallucinating or pranked.]
Lizards… ? Running lizards.
no subject
Ah, you were in the Lionsgate district. It seems like we arrived just in time for the annual Raptor Run; that’s where it’s held.
[She must have wandered for quite a while to have ended up here after that, but in fairness, Liem can understand why Hayame might wish to be as far from the Raptor Run as was reasonably possible. The dinosaurs used in the event were by no means tame, and people definitely got injured, sometimes even killed during the race.]
It should be long over by now; I expect Lionsgate would be traversable again, if you wished to go that way. Though unless someone has moved the world shard from where it was before, I don’t suppose we have any reason to head that direction.
no subject
Oof. They just kept those wild animals around to race them once a year??? Wait-]
N- no, I have no particular need to go back there.
[She had been far more concerned with kicking reptiles in the face and trying not to kill spectators when she looked for a place to jump out of the course.]
We should prioritize the shard.
[But... Her expression falters just the tiniest bit, a look he might recognize because he is one of the few people who has seen it before. What she looked like when she was tempted to choose something that was not duty. ... She rarely could ever let herself, not without an excuse, and yet-]
Once we locate it, perhaps...
[Perhaps then...]
You might. Show me more of the city?
no subject
Happily, [he agrees. For a long moment, he glances up at the ancient temple whose facade they’re standing in front of—then, he looks down the hill, towards the rest of the city, and, somewhere, the world shard.]
We can see some of it on the way, even, since I’m sure the shard’s direction won’t become exact until we’re closer to it.
[That’s been his experience so far, at least; he’s been obliged to wander all over, heading in the right general direction and hoping for the best. Only the pull of the dreamer shard was more insistent, more clear.]
My home church is in that direction, actually, which is how I know the shard must be further east even than that.
no subject
It stopped her from just being able to say... That of course she wished to see the places her friend loved, and those that had made him. But... if it were just a tiny hint, just a small betrayal of that desire...
Perhaps it was fine. (And perhaps they really could find the shard, and she could just say it properly--)]
Is it as you remembered it?
[She cannot help but ask as she prepares to follow him. Some people had mentioned... things that were strange. In her own world, she had... No one had recognized her. Not her stable master, not any of the children in the hidden village... So perhaps in Liem's, too...]
no subject
He wants to show her a little piece of his home, too.]
It is, and it isn’t.
[Taking a brief moment to map the beginnings of a route in his head, he begins to lead them both down the hill, making for Memorial Park and then the canal, which stands between them and the eastern part of town.
He will tell her of the ways it is the same: the city itself, the colleagues who knew little more than his name and his face, the names of the gods and the languages of the people. And he will tell her of the ways it is different: the people who have no fear of civil war, the living crown prince who recently was crowned Emperor.
He does not know where the princess and his close colleagues may be. When he’d left them, they were all far from Oppara; it makes sense they would not be here.
At the edge of Memorial Park lies the Imperial Palace. Liem points it out as they pass by; the large, solid-looking building appears less opulent than one might expect for the Grand Prince’s palace, though Liem has heard that the interior is quite lavish.]
Four different Grand Princes have lived there in just the years I’ve actually resided in the city. [There were many years he simply travelled, of course, and he’s fairly sure he missed the reign of at least one short-lived Emperor during his absence.] I suppose it’s up to five now, at least in this world.
me constantly checking my abcs to remember the world order
That had died when the Hieropoios and General Zaman had called her to the church and stood her beneath that blazing miniature sun. Almyra... Oppara... This would be her only chance to see those places. So once they found the shards, or another Meridian did...
Hayame listens attentively to Liem's explanation on how his world was as he remembered it, and how it was not. She looks around as they walk, taking in all of it as best she can. There is so much stone here, so much metal... what he identifies as a palace may not seem lavish on the outside to him, but to her... Well, he saw her world. The breeding stable was entirely wooden, not a stone building in sight. Basically every building only a single story or perhaps an attic at most. The village hidden in the mountains was the same.]
... I have heard the emperor changed. Twice I think.
[And she knew the names, because of course she did, she had wanted to be a warrior and she had tried desperately to pay attention to anything a human warrior would know. It was Emperor Go-Yozei now... Emperor Ogimachi during the year of her birth.]
... Do you actually see them?
[It seemed so close. The palace was just right there?]
The poems and songs always talk about how grand the processions and palaces are in the capital...
[And sure, she would never see them, but.]
no subject
On occasion, yes.
[It was rare, of course, but living in the capital as he did, he could not avoid at least glimpsing the Grand Prince during special events, when he presented himself to his subjects.]
The last time was on the Grand Day of Exaltation, some months before I was brought to Horos. The Grand Day of Exaltation happens every year, but the exaltation itself is a rather exclusive event, so that was the first time I was actually able to attend.
[Hayame would not have been able to attend either of course, something they had in common; even if Liem’s status was distinctly above “prized slave,” in the capital, he was still mostly a nobody. Or at least, he had been for the majority of his life.]
The princess and the Grand Prince were both there.
no subject
She wasn't exactly an expert. Compared to her, Liem, who even just attended one event and saw such people... That was worlds away.
Well. Literally.
So even though she listens, and marvels, in her way... She does not pursue it further. She looks at the palace... and then they are past it. There are other things to look at. And she does ask questions, little things, until, after a long lapse of silence...]
... What are-
[No, she shouldn't ask such a foolish thing, it sounds so childish and strange even in her own head. But.]
... What are your favorite things to do here?
[She had so many duties. He had so many duties. Just-]
... When you are not busy, I mean.
no subject
Presently, they come to the canal, leaving the park behind them to enter the only district in Oppara that could be described as truly, comfortably middle-class. Canal Row is the last bastion of modestly-moneyed beauty before the crowded, run-down neighbourhoods of the city’s eastern districts, and in this specific area, the clean, paved streets flanked by tidy townhouses are likely to most-resemble Springstar in terms of character. This is also the neighbourhood where Liem, at least in his own world, used to live.]
What do I like to do in Oppara?
[He looks up at Hayame as they walk, observing the way she seems to struggle to get the question out. Is it because she feels she should be asking such a thing, or because she feels she shouldn’t?]
I enjoy visiting the markets, of course. There are also some specialty shops around here that are a little less busy than the places in Lionsgate, or the harbour districts.
[He enjoyed much the same in Kenos, though he still missed the familiar places he used to visit in Oppara.]
Sometimes I would see performances, too, like poetry readings or musical performances. And, of course, I like to visit different temples.
no subject
Even though the opportunity will not come again... She still feels guilty, somehow, for asking and not focusing only on the Oracle. Something burning hot and pulsing in the back of her mind... it whispers that they do not have the time. But she asks anyway, even if her words come out awkward.
She has been to the markets with Liem before. She has had tea at his home. There are temples in Springstar, and they may not have visited them together but they had... walked past them together. But she has (they have) never...]
Are the musical performances... or theater things...
[She does recall him mentioning something like that before. A long time ago, she thinks. But she had always made excuses about not fitting properly into such crowds of cultured citizenry, about physically not fitting with her larger body... But she doesn't have that anymore, technically. Not with the bracelet on her wrist. So.]
Perhaps... we could go to one.
[Once they made sure his world's shard was safe. Of course.]