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

[settingup]

[ Not all worlds are made the same, and while Atsumu's already had a couple of jarring experiences in worlds that make him understand why the Zenite in question would not be looking to bring them back, this is the first world he's been in so far that actually looks beautiful. He'd taken a moment to take it in as well, feeling at ease here compared to the dusty, crypt-like mansion he'd wound up when wandering into Rin's facsimile of a world, or the crowded, but desperate and miserable streets that made up the city of Silco's memories.

This world actually seemed beautiful, and for a moment all he could assume was that it was one belonging to a Meri. A funny thought from a boy who misses his own home horribly, but has still opted to throw in his lot with Zenith as well. The assumption borders on hypocritical, but the realities he saw just make it seem like...

... Like he might have been mistaken, because peeking around a crumbling section of stone wall, he sees a mechanical monstrosity loudly thumping around in a way that looks anything by friendly. Atsumu is quick to duck back around the wall after that, pressing up against it and hiding in the shadows.

Only for Link to clamber up on top of it a moment later, a brightly colored beacon for something that Atsumu admittedly isn't sure has eyes, but doesn't want to find out the answer to that. He hisses out a sound, trying not to be too loud in case that thing has the ability to hear as well, and frantically tries to wave Link down off of that damn wall. ]

[bakedapple]

[ The unexpected hiss from the ground below startles Link so severely that he nearly loses his balance. Waving his arms for a moment to keep himself upright, he cranes his neck over the edge of the wall, down the side opposite the one he'd climbed — ]

Atsumu?

[ That is him, isn't it? Link brightens, and looks like he's about to greet him with a smile, when a blaringly loud beeping starts to come from the trees he'd just ran through to get here. He knows this sound too well — and he's oddly, strangely calm as he turns around to find a Guardian stomping towards him, its laser pointed directly at his chest.

But Link doesn't jump down to hide. He doesn't even run. He plants his feet on the wall's stones and takes his shield from his back, facing the automaton directly as it continues to advance, the beeping getting louder and louder. ]

...Stay down there, alright? This will only take a minute.

[settingup]

[ From the very first time they met Link had shown Atsumu how athletic he was. The guy might have been small, but he was quick, strong, and above all had the kind of stamina any athlete would envy. With so much time spent between his time as a Meri and his time as a Zenite, Atsumu was sure Link must have picked up a little magic here and there the same way he had too, so it wasn't like Link was defenseless or helpless at all.

... But all the same. ]

Are you outta your mind?

[ That's a big ass robot that seems to have some kind of laser sight pointed right at him. Atsumu curses under his breath as he starts to take small leaps through the air, not climbing up the wall proper, but instead climbing the air next to it as he makes his way up towards Link, directly ignoring what he was told to do.

A shame too, because he's probably about to make this more difficult for the guy. ]

[bakedapple]

[ The Guardian continues to advance and Link continues to stare it down. His body is still, but his mind is focused; it seems he's waiting for something, poised and at the ready. The beam of the laser sight gets brighter as the machine advances, the laser point going from a blurry dot to a large, sharp circle the closer it gets. But he still doesn't move, doesn't run, doesn't look away long enough to notice Atsumu climbing (somehow? through the air??) up towards him —

suddenly, the high-pitched squeal of a weapon firing. Half a second later, Link swings his left arm — the arm carrying his shield — with a similar angle and motion as someone swinging a tennis racket.

But it's not a squishy ball he's deflecting. He swiped his shield at the moment that the Guardian's blast would have hit him — deflecting the laser off the polished surface of the shield with the kind of intensely precise timing that only comes with experience and practice.

The laser travels directly back in the direction it came, striking the bottom part of its large metal chassis and boring a hole straight through to one of its mechanical legs. The leg flashes and twists wildly, severed but still moving, like the tail of a lizard. This injury appears to jolt the Guardian out of its current programming loop, its swiveling head turning as if struck with confusion —

that's when he notices a shock of orange hair in the corner of his eye. ]

What the — Atsumu?! Get down! Get back down, right now!

[settingup]

[ On his way up all Atsumu could really see was Link standing there with the kind of resolution that someone usually takes when their facing down their own mortality. Watching the little guy stand there and wait to get crushed by robot arms doesn't exactly sound like Atsumu's idea of a good time though, so his legs pump harder, his body moves faster...

And his head clears the wall in time to see the robot take aim and fire at Link, and the deflection that Link manages.

Look, the whole thing is very impressive. He won't pretend it's not impressive, but at the same time-- ]

Are you kiddin' me? That thing is shootin' lasers at you! Stop messin' around with it, and lets get the hell outta here!

[ He's not planning on leaving Link behind to make one slightly wrong move and get his own leg blasted clean off! ]

[bakedapple]

I can take care of it! I've taken out hundreds of these things!

[ Link answers hurriedly, his voice rising with a mix of urgency, defensiveness and frustration. If he had a moment to think about the situation, he'd recognize just how insane it probably seems to Atsumu, for Link to be staring down something as terrifying as a Guardian — but right now, Atsumu is just kinda... messing with his flow. ]

Get back down! How are you even doing that?

[ Which is when the beeping begins again, slowly beginning to ramp up to faster and higher beeps... but the sight of the laser is aimed directly where Atsumu peeked his head up over the wall. Directly at Atsumu's forehead.

Ah, crap. It's noticed him. ]

[settingup]

[ That comment gets a skeptical look. He's seen Link in action, and while the guy is in impressive physical condition, that doesn't have a whole lot to do with fighting giant robots.

... Well, it has some to do with it. Someone who couldn't scale walls or run for long probably would do even worse against a robot, but still, Atsumu is thinking more skills are needed than just that. He's wrong, of course, but he's not aware of that right now.

He is at least aware of the sight locking onto him, and while he'd love to answer Link's question, he's busy cursing loudly as he realizes what is happening, and pumping his legs quickly to get the hell out of the way of that laser.

The bad news is that he's not getting back down, but the good is that he's racing through the air, and making himself one hell of a target to lock onto, considering he isn't just moving forward, back, left and right, but up and down too in a way that seems to spit in the face of gravity. ]

[bakedapple]

[ Which is more alarming, the Guardian getting ready to blow a hole through Atsumu, or the fact that Atsumu is — running through the air? Flying??

There's no time to stare, as much as Link really wants to. Clenching his teeth, he jumps down from the top of the wall and sprints towards the Guardian with all the speed he can muster from his short legs. Whatever it is that Atsumu is doing, it's providing the perfect distraction; Link draws his sword and leaps up onto the Guardian's hull just as the laser beam fires with a loud, ear-splitting shriek.

There isn't enough time for him to look over his shoulder to see whether Atsumu managed to dodge or not. Instead, he's grasping the hilt of his sword in both hands and plunging it mercilessly into the glowing sphere set into the robot's rotating head, which acts as both its eye and its firing mechanism. It whirs and jerks upwards, caught off guard, and rises up on its legs to try to buck Link off, but he braces his feet against its outer shell and holds tight to his sword, twisting it, to snap and shatter its internal mechanisms. ]