kenoslogs | 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

[ Ryouma appears in a room near the entrance to the dungeon and knows at once he's in a world that is very similar to his own, at least where the rules that govern it are concerned. Something's definitely different, though, and he isn't sure what it is until he notices the summoning circle he's standing in.

He looks up to see someone else standing across from him and notices the red markings (1, 2) that had literally burned themselves into the back of Akechi's hand a moment ago (have fun choosing a cool look). They're no doubt the reason Ryouma looks momentarily irritated, and for a good reason — Command Seals are spells that a Servant cannot disobey, and Akechi now has three of them. Naturally, this isn't information that he's rushing to volunteer. ]

I must be registered as a normal Heroic Spirit in this world and not as a Guardian...

[ sigh. ]

And that would make you—... my Master.

[ He doesn't have a problem with Akechi; it's the Master-Servant relationship he's never cared for in any shape or form. He prefers his independence. Still, how bad could this kid be? ]

This place will probably challenge you because it considers you a mage, but it's my job to protect you.

[ This isn't the first change this Oracle trial has subjected him to; he's grown cat ears and tail in one world, become quadrupedal in another, and has even been momentarily granted new powers aside from his own. Still, it hasn't been reason to lose his calm (save for whenever faced with combat and the chance to let loose, but that's a conscious choice to indulge in chaos) and he's simply figured these mechanics must be in effect so the experience will be more... authentic.

(What exactly the Oracle hopes to achieve with it, he can't tell. But until they reach the end of this, his resolve won't falter.)

For now, he busies himself with puzzling out a smaller mystery: the red markings etched on his skin, resembling a four-winged creature that strangely reminded him of a Shadow. Whatever this dungeon may be, though, it isn't the Metaverse, so as far as figuring out the meaning behind this occurrence goes-- ]

... Sakamoto-san.

[ Comes his greeting from over his shoulder, formal and polite. Despite their opposing sides, it would seem the functional idiot actually has decent intel to share this time around, so it would be a waste to burn his bridges.

He can't help but notice a certain disdain in his tone, either. Something else to be mindful of. ]

You sound far more familiarized with this world than I am. [ He raises a hand, the mark of Dominion on display. ] Would you care to explain the meaning of this?

Well, I know there are other Shard-bearers from worlds similar enough to mine that they're essentially parallel timelines. I assume this is one of them.

[ Ryouma makes this all sound very normal for him because it is, although he's never ended up in this particular position before. On a long enough timeline, everything that can happen probably will, so it was inevitable. ]

Those are Command Seals. They're evidence that you are a Master, a mage who has formed a pact with a Servant.

[ He gestures to himself in case it isn't obvious. ]

They bind us together. Servants typically can't remain in the world without a Master because they supply the mana that sustains them. In exchange—... well, I'm sure I don't have to explain the benefits to the mage of having a powerful magical construct as a partner.

Usually, these rules don't apply to me, but that's the funny thing about alternate realities.

[ He doesn't see anything wrong with omitting the rest of what the Seals do — at least for now. That's just a good strategy; if this were a Grail War and he had somehow ended up with an ignorant Master, he'd just be looking out for himself. This partnership does not inherently require trust because those Seals are a collar, and Ryouma would prefer not to make that obvious as long as he can.

Then there is what Ryouma is sure Akechi will figure out on his own, as knowing a Servant's True Name means knowing everything about them. It's annoying, but considering Ryouma has no real idea how history remembers him, he's not even sure in what way to feel particularly exposed, so he's elected to ignore it ~~as you do~~. ]

A Master and Servant, eh...?

[ As Ryouma carries on with his explanation, Akechi casts a glance down at the back of his hand, idly moving it around as to better inspect the odd patterns on his skin. They don't really tell him much about the nature of his assignment, or even the relationship forced upon himself and this Meridian, but... well. There's only so many ways in which one can be a Master to someone else, right? ]

I'm unfamiliar with the workings of this world, but I suppose that means we are partnered up for the length of our stay here. I should hope you have no objections.

[ For now, that's the objective truth, and never let it be said Akechi isn't quick to adjust to dire circumstances. Still, he does sense some minimal discomfort from his newly assigned Servant, and so he fishes his glove out of his jacket and covers up his hand; out of sight, out of mind.

(At least, for as long as it's convenient, anyway.) ]

Now, let us not dawdle any longer. You must have a stronger sense for where this world's Shard is located, correct?

THE ADVOCATE ORACLE - A RIP VAN WINKLE IN TIME

⚡ for akechi;

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