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

1

[gravings]

[ Gray feels very much out of place at a pub without an adult to act as her guardian — which is a crazy feeling to have after all the life-threatening situations she's been through, up to and especially recently including a species war. But deciding to drum up her courage, she enters the Blue Door at the heart of town, hoping to hear some of the local gossip and get a feel for the place.

One of the staff of the establishment regards her with a cross between confusion and outright humor, peppering her with questions about where she's from and how she's finding town. Being a Welsh girl in a Welsh town, she has room to answer truthfully: she's from a little village over yonder and is enjoying seeing a bigger town, actually. Eventually she manages to convince him that she's really just looking for a bite to eat, and that he need not fear that she has a secret alcoholic agenda. The bar is safe from her.

That is... until she hears a familiar voice raised from said bar. Turning away from her plate of Welsh cakes (which for a second made her forget about her actual objective), she sits up tall in her seat at the dining tables and raises a hand just above her hooded head to get Howl's attention. ]

Mr. Howl! Over here...

[ Have you ever tried to get the attention of someone across the room without drawing the attention of everybody in-between? It's a very fine art that Gray is doing everything in her power to achieve. ]

[cyfaredd]

[ When Howl first awoke and found himself in his hometown, the first people he thought of were his sister, his niece and his nephew. Then, he started to think about everyone from Kenos who had come here with him, and were undoubtedly somewhere. Gray was one of the first his mind went to, considering their shared backgrounds, and perhaps one of the few he wouldn't mind running into while he's here. And so, when the little hand that shoots up from one of the dining tables, it is not what Howl was expecting... but once he recognizes the young woman waving at him while simultaneously trying to look small, he grins. ]

Miss Gray! What are you doing here? They let you in?

[ This causes him to look back at the bartender with a raised eyebrow. The bartender tells him in Welsh that she insisted she was only here to eat, and he has no intention of selling her a drop of alcohol. After Howl converses back and forth with him for a moment, he seems satisfied with the purity of his intentions. Carrying his pint of beer with him, he gets up from the bar and walks over to where Gray is sitting to take the seat across from her. ]

Well, good to see you healthy and well, lass. Or at least you appear to be?

[gravings]

[ Gray watches with a curious feeling as Howl debates the bartender's judgment in letting her in. Since leaving her village, in which not a person would have allowed her to drink for a slew of reasons, few have cared to manage her alcohol intake — perhaps assuming that she isn't the sort of person to imbibe beyond the rare adventurous sip. It seems like Howl is more vigilant of the bartender's wrongdoing than Gray's, but still. It's strange to remember that she's a minor whose welfare should be managed. She is approaching legal adulthood... Maybe she would seem older if she could grow a little taller sometime.

In any case, Gray smiles and settles down as Howl sits himself across from her as if they really were just friends chatting on a lazy day. As he notes, she appears healthy and well, her tendency toward modest dress going a long way in helping her blend into this modest town. Her hood does make her stick out a bit, but that isn't something she registers anymore. She responds in Welsh, happy to do as Romans do. ]

I've been well. It's been interesting seeing everyone's worlds.

[ Not all of them are happy, but they're fascinating regardless. Though it may be callous to say, it's a bit like she's become a tourist. ]

I didn't recognize this town, so I thought it might be yours. It's a lovely place.

[cyfaredd]

[ If Howl knew Gray's actual age, he probably wouldn't be so hawkish about her safety or why she was allowed into this pub. She's still too young to purchase alcohol on her own, but technically, it isn't illegal for her to drink it outside of public view. That means that, sadly, it's her small size that has likely mislead Howl into think she's a few years younger than she really is... and probably his own softness towards children, too, that nudges him towards that assumption.

Smiling, he answers back in Welsh, happy to have someone to speak his first language with. ]

I told you before, didn't I? I love Wales, even if it doesn't love me.

[ He sits back in his chair and studies her for a moment. ] There was a another village, a few worlds back... very small, but I could still tell it was Wales, especially from the look of the mountains. That was your home, wasn't it?

[gravings]

[ It figures that he would've recognized the landscape of their shared land, even if the specific locations are miles or even worlds apart. The weather, the smell of the air, the sound of the insects — those things are all unique and essential to the Wales she knows, and she can feel whispers of them even in this town she's never known.

Her smile fades, and she nods slowly to Howl's question. Clearly not as enamored when it comes to her own village. ]

That's right. I'm sorry I missed you. It would have been complicated if the villagers saw me, so I stayed away for the most part.

[ Alter Self only lasts for so long, after all. And from a less practical standpoint, it was simply unpleasant for her to see those people again. ]

I hope they didn't treat you too strangely.

[ She could tell the villagers were energized, elated — borderline fanatical about the return of King Arthur. All too happy to heap word of his legend on the unsuspecting newcomers, no doubt. ]

[cyfaredd]

Not me, no. But they kept talking to me about the strangest things...

[ Howl pauses, watching Gray for a moment, thinking. ]

Any Welshman with a passion for history or literature has a certain affection for Arthurian legend, but your people take it to another level, don't they?

[ In a weird way. Almost like religious devotion. What's up with that? ]

Do you simply find them embarrassing? [ he tips his head, his tone gentle and careful. ] Or... is there another reason you hid from them?

[gravings]

[ A pause from Gray, her gaze drifting as her demeanor sinks more into gloom. It had become easier for her to talk about her circumstances with Shard-Bearers who clearly had no knowledge or investment in Arthurian lore. But as Howl says, he's a Welshman; it's only natural that he would have some feeling about it, however innocent. Gray tenses quietly as if anticipating a blow, though of course Howl would never.

Her own hang-ups aside, the situation in her village is difficult to explain concisely. Gray's pause extends, until she speaks again slowly. ]

They devoted their lives to ensuring that King Arthur would return as the legends foretold. In the world I came from, it eventually become impossible... but in the version of my world we passed through, they managed to make it happen. They revived King Arthur.

[ Fantastical stuff, she knows, but Howl is a wizard, so surely he won't find it too beyond belief. ]

I couldn't show myself because King Arthur and I can't exist at the same time. It would have confused the villagers.

[cyfaredd]

[ Huh. Well... that's a lot. To Howl's credit, his brows furrow only slightly upon hearing this explanation; she's right that being a wizard makes one a lot more accepting of fantastical happenings like this. ]

And may I ask, then... [ he says slowly, knowing she might not want to answer, or even that he might not want to know the answer... ] Why you and King Arthur can't exist at the same time?

[gravings]

[ Gray could give him a much longer answer, but she won't assume he wants a lecture. Straight to the chase then. She looks back to Howl from under the shade of her hood, shy of his reaction. ]

Because... I have King Arthur's body. [ She knows how this sounds. She continues quickly. ] His soul needs this body to stay in. But in order for his soul to enter, mine would need to leave first.

[cyfaredd]

[ Howl is quiet, frowning slightly, as he considers what she's told him. That there's some longer story behind it seems to go without saying... and although his natural curiosity has him eager to ask for the full explanation, he's sensitive enough to notice how this topic has made Gray withdraw into herself. ]

It sounds to me, [ he says, carefully, ] that they'd be taking your body from you, to give it to someone else.

[ "King Arthur's body." That part sounds especially ridiculous. No wonder those villagers gave him the creeps — they sacrificed a young girl to bring back the long dead. ]

King Arthur had his own body, once. That body had died and turned to dust, as every mortal's body is destined to do.