⏳ THE SCORCHING ISLE: Oracle Event One ⏳

[beleos]

ARRIVAL

All Bearers have heard whispers of them - the Oracles. Mysterious and unknown entities of an abstract nature, they serve as the heart of each faction’s cause - both as a means to an end and a very real stepping stone in achieving their objectives. To claim an Oracle means growing ever closer to victory: to see your homes restored as they were, or to herald in a new one of your making.

So you go.

A Cornerstone has been set up for each faction; one for the Zenith and one for the Meridian in Yima’s manor and Heliopolis, respectively. They warn you that upon transportation, your safety cannot be guaranteed and there is no telling what waits for you beyond - to be prepared. To make sure you have whatever you deem necessary with you before you go, as there is no telling when - or how - you will be coming back. CONTINUED HERE...

NOTES

Upon your arrival, you woke up with an HOURGLASS NECKLACE. Please refer to the Time Mechanics on the OOC Summary and bottom of this post for details on its usage.

The COURTYARD is frozen in time. Player Characters and the Great Tree are the only signs of moving, free life in the courtyard. During the intro, time magic does not work.

Characters are free to investigate but cannot move beyond the courtyard if you choose a prompt during the intro. You may mingle among your fellow Bearers or speak with [MR. TIBBS] if you so choose. (Also? LOOK AT HIM HELP)

Iconoclasts and Stargazers will notice Aspect benefits/detriments now.

All characters will be weak for the 24 hours - think like mild flu - and unable to leave until Mr. Tibbs has dispersed them. This is the time in which any threads with the NPC will be carried out.

The INTRO concludes with said dispersal of PC’s once interactions concluded. They will be sent to a location around the castle of your choosing; they are free to move about freely from here. Your prompts can start with you waking alone or in the presence of others - whatever you’d like!

Your character will innately understand how to use time magic from this point forward. It will come naturally to them, like a skill they were born with.

CASTLE: OVERVIEW (p a s t)

The Scorching Isles is home to the Atirat, a people of sea-dwellers who have the ability to walk on land. (Think mermaids with the ability to shift back and forth between human and mermaid forms.) As such, much of the Scorching Isles is covered in large bodies of blue water and glistening pieces of ice to accommodate their lifestyle.

THE CASTLE, however, is what dominates the landscape and it's where the Shard-Bearers will be spending their time. The white castle with colorful glass windows is obscured by a thick layer of clouds and fog. Nearly every location on the island has a thin layer of fog that rolls through it, which gives the entire Island an inescapable chill. The castle has artfully built rooms with a CAVALCADE OF DECORATIVE ICE, lavish mirrors, and white plants accented with blue decorations. Several portions of the castle are submerged due to the aquatic nature of the native residents.

And everywhere you go, you find them - STATUESQUE BODIES FROZEN mid-movement. They are haunting reminders of the power in your Hourglass - the very real power to decide their fates.

The castle has many winding paths to explore, as castles often do. There are sleeping quarters, HALLWAYS, a wine cellar, and a few large rooms presumably for diplomatic affairs. Players can use these rooms at their own leisure for whatever purposes they see fit. (Exploration, combat, or supply gathering.)

However, many of these rooms will require some strategy to access their full potential! Atirat were much more comfortable being underwater than many Kenosians may be. Therefore, rooms of higher importance may be COMPLETELY SUBMERGED or require swimming through an underwater pathway to reach them. Very minimal supplies will be kept out in the open for all to reach. More desirable supplies - such as warm clothing, small weapons, treasure, and the like - will be located past or within one of these flooded areas.

Players may gather supplies within and preserve their Sand or use their Sand to make other rooms accessible and gather whatever lies within! The larger the asset you attempt to unfreeze, the more Sand it costs - and the more drained/vulnerable you will be as a consequence, so choose your path ahead wisely.

Currently, a pervasive fog is preventing you from wandering beyond the Castle's limits. Should you try to venture past it, your Sand will rapidly be stolen and you will find yourself suffering the same fate as the islanders if you don't move back to safety quickly... However, if you ask Mr. Tibbs what lays beyond the mist - he will tell you about the thriving farmland, the once-bustling village surrounding the castle, and the beautiful coral reefs beneath it. Sadly, they're beyond your reach - but maybe if the Bearers decide to unfreeze them when the week is up...

LIBRARY (s a f e z o n e)

The ROYAL LIBRARY - A treasure trove of knowledge, history, and glimpses of a fractured past scattered throughout. The lower floor of the Library is void of much reading material and contains several intricate-looking art pieces on decorative pedestals.

A spiral staircase dominates the center of the room, with its once delicate structure overtaken by sheets of formidable ice; it leads you toward the upper levels where a sea of books awaits. There are isles and isles of books, most perched on intricately carved shelves. Many books lay in piles or are discarded onto the floor, and scattered papers are common throughout.

Curious Kenosians may pick out books from the shelves and read on various topics, but players may also pass through this room on their way elsewhere. This area will function as a safe haven where violence and the taking of others' Sand is not allowed; do not disturb the books or Mr. Tibbs won’t be happy!

NOTES

Characters who wish to receive a book with lore specific to the island may comment [HERE]. You will be RNGed a book from a pre-written list of topics. The books may give you a deeper look into the island, its inhabitants, and its history! (Only 1 book per player! Please assume all other books they read are about commonly-available topics.)

THE EATING PARLOR (p a s t)

There are no basic amenities on the island. No hot water, no warm beds, and no salacious magazines (that you know of. heh heh). That would make the Eating Parlour a wise stop for anyone. After all, this could be the perfect chance to procure some provisions!

The EATING PARLOUR has all the equipment one would need for meal preparation. Dried plants hang from the ceiling, and the walls are lined with mason jars filled with every strange manner of presumably edible thing (Is that a head over there? Hmm… maybe you should check).

The parlour also comes with a garden under a massive windowed dome so that the inhabitants could have fresh produce at hand. Many plants have withered, but there are some salvageable plants if you know how to look for them. But beware… Some of the plants have a strange blue glow. These plants can spell potential disaster.

If someone should make contact with these glowing plants, they will crumble into glass shards - glass that will quickly burrow its way under the skin and curse that person with Blight. Blight will make all resources within that person's vicinity slowly age and eventually crumble to dust. (Which I relate to on a personal level tbh.) Iconoclasts will be immune to its effects.

NOTES

Please see the "Blight" section below for more information on its effects.

TREASURE ROOM (f u t u r e)

Faint singing can be heard coming from this room. Once you hear the song, it dulls your senses and leaves you in a haze. There is no stopping your feet from guiding you to it through the doors and into the Treasure room. The door slams shut at your back, sealed with a wall of ice and magic.

Players will find themselves lured to an icy chamber bordered by a ring of cold blue fire. There is a deep pond that surrounds the platform you’ve found yourself standing on. Beyond its glassy surface and crystal clear water, one can glimpse all manner of treasures - from crowns, jewels, ornate statues in various statues of repair, scepters, spears, and books that seem impervious to the water's cold chill.

As you come to your senses, you will find yourself frozen in place and at the mercy of a large statuesque being before you. This beautiful and horrifying figure in a perpetual song is the SIREN, the only Atirat you’ve seen in person. She measures nearly 20 feet (6 meters) from her head to the tip of her long-finned tail. She cradles an icy shard in her arms, singing to it as if it were a child.

She sits serenely in front of a large hourglass filled with white sand, which is bordered by a spear and a lance. Emblazoned in faint text at the base of where she sits reads: “The future lies in our hands.”

NOTES

Welcome to the Siren’s Chamber! Players must use their wit, charisma, or some good ol' fashioned elbow grease to escape the room or break the Siren’s magic. The Shard that the Siren holds contains dormant time magic that players may activate by using the Sand within their necklace. Players can access the future in 5-second intervals and use whatever they find in that time period to escape their predicament.

For example, if they activate the shard by using their time magic, that shard will begin to glow blue. The room around them will shift, and it could change to a point in the future where there is a sword nearby. If you can grab it, now you have a weapon! When the 5 seconds are up and time returns to the present, you will still have that weapon on your person. You may also try verbal communication if you’d like. If your character is someone who would try and talk their way out of a situation diplomatically, they may give it a try!

It is up to player discretion/creativity to think of a scenario you’d like. Each “future" does not have to be the same across player encounters! What one group experiences may be tailored to the player wants (because branching timelines exist). Let your imagination run free!

HALL OF MIRRORS (p r e s e n t)

Should you reach the rightmost wing of the massive castle Library, you will find a door hidden in the very back of one aisle against a wall; it looks as though the door used to be concealed by magicks that have since dissolved.

The stairwell leads down and into darkness. Once you reach the bottom, shimmering light cast from an unknown source beneath sheets of glistening ice will illuminate your new surroundings; you are in a maze of mirror-like ice. This labyrinth is silent save for the quiet creaking of shifting ice that may disquiet you and leave you uneasy regarding the stability of this area… but it holds beneath your feet.

Mr. Tibbs had told you that the “Kaleidoscope” - where your Sand is counted - rests through here, so eventually, you must brave the journey. Is it a trick of the light? Maybe the product of an especially active imagination…?

Did you just see one of your reflections move without you?

NOTES

Please refer to the OOC Summary for details on the Hall of Mirrors!

THE BLIGHT and TIME MECHANICS

BLIGHT

Blight is an infliction that will age supplies and infect people with a creeping disease that steals their Sand. For objects, this includes weapons, food, and items like cloth. It will take a few days to deteriorate things beyond use - so watching your supplies and acting accordingly is in your best interest. Generally, it will make it more difficult for PC's to get by given that their already scarce resources will dwindle and deteriorate - especially since it's 'contagious' through touch.

The Blight will not act quickly enough to severely hamper infected persons, but repeated exposure will cause effects to a person's body - notedly protruding VEINS in the face and extremities, a lower body temperature, and increased agitation. These effects start out mild and grow more severe with each 'dose.'

Characters must touch an object/person that is Blighted to become inflicted with Blight themselves. When that happens, it will become easily identifiable as Blighted from the faint blue, shimmering outline around the infected subject, as well as the WITHERED, FROSTBITTEN or ashy appearance it takes as it progresses.

However, there is one single perk with Blight. (Or is it a perk?) Players will feel reduced impact by the cold surroundings, making the climate around them somewhat more hospitable. Beware of falling victim to a chill you can't feel...

TIME

To use your Sand, each character is granted access to and innate knowledge of a spell they channel from their Shard that automatically manipulates their Hourglass. This allows the remote control of Sand (aka gathering and dispersing), as well as the ability to pull Fragments of time from Shards.

Fragments are literal pieces of you taken from your Shard. They manifest as memories or images displayed on little shards of broken glass (think of the memory being played out in real-time on the mirror's surface), and can be crushed to convert into Sand automatically, either voluntarily or by force. The only stipulation is that the parties must be close to one another, and the Fragment must be exchanged while both Bearers are still. This means someone has to give it to you, or you need to immobilize them before you take it - one way or another.

Once the Fragment is crushed, the memory and associated time of that person's life is lost and your character will suffer amnesia until the Oracle is claimed. How deep this goes is up to you; they could lose a large chunk of time - even all their memories surrounding a person or place for a big payload of Sand, or they could lose very little for a meager net gain.

Sand is automatically gathered or distributed by your Hourglass and added/subtracted to your running total. No need to micromanage. Convenient!

Please note that using Sand to unfreeze anything (resources, a door which can be then opened, etc) is an unpleasant experience. Each time you use Sand in this way, your character will be left feeling weakened and flu-like for an hour or two, which will leave them vulnerable. This effect stacks and scales up to outright KO-ing them for a few hours if they go crazy, so unfreezing too large of an area is off the table!

NOTES

• An OOC POST will be coming shortly explaining how Sand is going to be tallied and the Oracle claimed.
• Should your character attempt to unfreeze any NPC's, please respond [HERE]. NOTE: unfreezing NPC's may result in physical violence with CW's for severe mental instability/illness and a potential reference to self-harm.
• HAVE FUN!!!

CODING

Comments

[glowup]

[The sheer level of menace they would bring... they could sink an island. Maybe it's for the best that Anders is alone with his sticky hands.]

No? I won't be gauche and ask what you're meant to embody, then. [This is his little joke, except it just sounds awkward, way to go Anders. He's about to launch into a nerd rant about spirits and their respective embodiments and also Demons and how they are Bad, but oh, a question that requires him in no small amount to be sentimental instead.

What is Justice like. Well. After a brief inner debate about present vs. past tense, ahem,]

What you'd expect, more or less. Justice... is unyielding. He was a good friend to me when first we met, although in hindsight I'm not sure I deserved much of his patience. He wanted things to be better. For me, for people like me— I believed in him.

[zauneyete]

Nice find.

[ He commented and looked it over. Silco, of course, had not struggled much for food yet. Between the supplies provided by Sebastian in the beginning, to the fact that the demon was still finding him food meant he had not felt hunger pangs yet since arriving.

That did not mean that others had not, and weak teammates meant weak abilities. It meant their goals would be far and away out of reach, and Silco had no interest in that. He didn't want the Meridian to have their victory here, he didn't want them to prey on them for being the weakest, and he most certainly didn't want to be even further away from what he wanted by the end of this achingly long week.

He stepped forward, to examine the box, when Teacher asked the question, and he tipped his head to look at him, the ghost of a smirk across his face. ]

Oh? The invisibility? I suppose you could say it is. We find ourselves coming into more and more power as time goes on. This was one I had before, on Horos as well. [ A beat. ] Most come from worlds with a great deal of magic.

Did you come from one of those?

[glowup]

That's a fair assumption.

[That there's something else going on, that is. Anders tends to assume the worst in people for his own sake; it's nostalgic, almost, to meet someone who does the opposite.]

I just wish those of our number set on destroying as much as possible could leave the people out of it. So much suffering already took place here, and they want to add to it, like it's of no consequence.

[He sighs, then moves closer with a hand raised and the gentle blue-white glow of a healing spell already forming in his palm. Mildly,] For your face; lean this way, if you please.

[lethally]

[ Both good questions, and both that take her more than a moment to decide on how best to respond. Thankfully, the Siren starts up her song again, giving Lust a momentary excuse as to why she even has to think about such things in the first place.

She shoots the Siren a look of pure displeasure before turning back towards Dimitri. ]

Solaris.

[ It's a name she's used often enough, and one that slips off her tongue easily. The next part though.... ]

I can fight to an extent, but only up close.

[ This isn't Amestris. She isn't unique among everyone else here, gifted with talents and abilities no one else has. For a while, that fact that rankled her to no end, but right now it's a boon, offering her easy camoflague to use her abilities as she sees fit without drawing too much attention. ]

Unless you have perfect aim, we'll have to find a way to approach her.

[ Which might be difficult how often they're forced to remain in one place.]

[redsoil]

Oh?

[ A sorcerer? A god? By the way Akua speaks of him, Set assumes he is to believe that this man was some manner of mortal who gained enough power to ascend to divinity. Goodness, some pantheons just let anybody through the door, didn't they? Only those of divine lineage were capable of such things among his family, in Set's experience; even Akua, who he did not doubt the might of, would never have had an ascendency ceremony to welcome her into the realm of the Ennead. No one born of mortal flesh would have the ability to hone a perfect mind or body, and thus could never conceptualize what it meant to be a literal force of nature.

At least, he is not rudely exposing these experiences to her. There are different lands after all, let alone different worlds, and he has always had a heart that sought out new experiences, new ways of being, new sights and knowledge. He knows that the Ennead does things one way, and that Akua's realm does it another. It is simple to conclude that all things are possible, and for him to hunger for more information -- more, that he can tuck away for another time.

He folds his hands against the ground, observing the way she plucks at the body of the trident - examining it with her abilities, utilizing her skill and knowledge. The red of his eyes betrays so much of that hunger in him, raking over the pretty arch of her wrists and palms, unblinkingly fixated upon her motions. He wants to see into the core of her, peel her open and find what power she speaks of. ]

Had you not been drawn into this conflict, would you have become a god, Akua?

[ Was it pure strength, or ambition, that would have pushed her to that rich, divine edge? ]

And what you are doing now, to the trident -- what is it? Do you only perform such feats on inanimate objects, or does it apply to living things, as well? Is it taxing, to use your skills? Do you tire, do you require particular nourishment to recharge?

[ The questions are feverish. Fiery and focused, rattled off ravenously. ]

[cutlery]

[ As Voryn steps in closer, it’s met with warmth, if only through Sebastian’s expression. Whether there’s anything behind it or not… Who can say? He simply naturally responds to gestures by mirroring and encouraging them, wherever they may lead.

…Though Voryn’s explanation does help to explain some things. Even as old as Sebastian is, his interactions with humans created a understanding of them that was incomplete and usually in odd areas. It was only a year or so ago that he had been aboard the Campania and seen it sink. The amount of humans that had perished so quickly in the frigid water had surprised him, but if that was why, well. Another tragic failing of the mortal constitution, so far as he saw it.

Of course, even so… He’s intrigued by the offer. His nature hasn’t come up yet (and it is a yet—Sebastian is sure he’ll bring it up eventually or Voryn will learn it himself when it’s nothing he keeps all that secret), but it’s still not so bad to do a job more efficiently. ]

Well, that would certainly be helpful. I can only assume that the roots are perhaps a bit deeper, after all.

[ Which might still be fine. He has confidence about the time it might take, since even with how Kenos has dampened his ability, it hasn’t required him to breathe. The chill, though… He could see that being slightly more troubling. ]

Is that the sort of thing that is difficult for you to provide?

[ It may factor into the bargaining, after all. ]

[goldendeceiver]

[ "The fence sitters", huh? That gets a small, startled laugh from him. In a world like this one, it's fair enough to call him something like that. Though he also gets the sense that Hayame sees the world in much starker shades than he does as well, and not picking some sort of side is some sign of weakness.

He won't try to dispel her of this view of him, or argue in his defense though.

Instead he'll keep it simple. ]

Maybe, maybe not. I didn't actually ask anyone.

[hauntedking]

I tend to agree. These people were caught up in this through no fault of their own... there's no point in us making their lives more difficult or trying to harm them.

[ He leans over, tilting his head to let Anders cast his spell. It's different from the usual healing magic he's used to, but he supposes it takes all sorts. ]

...thank you. It's helpful.

[consolation]

Or even if you never can be together, right?

[Some love is meant to exist only in dreams regardless of the circumstances, fading away in the morning just as easily.]

That's something you do for yourself. [Though all infatuation must be somewhat selfish, regardless, to project it onto someone else, to want without regard.] But in a case like that, you want to be with and idea. You'd even get more out of a loving a ghost.

[So...she finds this text quite pathetic. Caren might be judging the author of it quite harshly, but at the same time, it sounds like she's continuing to read the book to understand him, to carry just a little of his miserable burden. That doesn't stop her, in the slightest, from being a bit vicious about his possible intentions.]

Unless he wanted something more physical, I suppose. A ghost can't love in that way, either.

[hauntedking]

My aim is... passable. But I'm loath to toss away my only weapon and miss.

[ He shakes his head. ]

Ah - yes. I'm Dimitri. Hopefully we'll have more time after all this is over to talk...

[ The song is always there. Distracting. Keeping them rooted. It tears him away from their brief conversation for a long moment and then in the next pause he draws a breath, advancing a few steps while he can. ]

Slow and steady? As impatient as we might be, it may be our only way - unless we wish to try for one large leap.

[cutlery]

[ He says nothing to relationships’ value (even for someone as perhaps similar to him as Set, his true feelings on such a thing are better left unsaid), but the questioning does get him to breathe out a little laugh. ]

A fair question. [ He brings a hand to his chest lightly as a gesture of sincerity, but it’s truly carried in his phrasing. It’s specific and direct, and that is what makes a demon’s promise. ] I swear to you, I only wish for a sample. Besides the fact that I would find it unprincipled to drink more deeply of something generously offered, it is only curiosity that drives me, not hunger.

[ He has his meal at work, after all. Even if Set’s soul was a unique delicacy, Sebastian wouldn’t pursue it at the very least until his agreement with Silco had been met. He was a predator, but as he says, he’s one with principles. Though, as such, he’s also a little surprised that Set would ask the same. There’s something about it that feels incorrect, that something divine would be interested in a hunger that would be perceived as monstrous… It’s also why any reservations he may have had are easily set aside. ]

So, I accept, with the same conditions. [ He laughs lightly, even playfully, before he adds: ] Though, I would caution that I can only imagine my soul in particular as a foul thing. My apologies in advance if does not sit well upon your tongue.

[warmare]

[The bruises that Set's hands pass over seem to largely be confined, at least, to muscle, save for one or two on her foreknees that had taken the brunt of her half ton weight in a fall across the ice. ... But the doppelganger had gotten an arrow through the temple as she skid, so... she had reclaimed the pain she'd been given. The pain she feels now as he ascertains the depth of the swelling and discoloration hidden by her dun hide is little in comparison.

... His mark is on his hand, hers on the back of her neck, beneath the high, tight arch of her updone mane. It is a different shape... but that is less noteworthy than the strange marks on his other hand. The way the dark ink? marks his knuckles and wrist, the lines connecting them as if mapping out the route to his bones.

Strength over all else... She wonders if she agrees with it. She had been taught so long to value honor and dignity, tried so hard to fight the way the humans idealized so that she would not be labeled a beast only capable of desperately clawing for survival. It was why she always clung to weapons even though her own body was a weapon perhaps more powerful than any human tool her world could manufacture, but honor...

In the end, what had honor done for her besides ruin everything that could have been potentially good in her life? In the end... that hand she had been looking at clasps the trident between her own, and yet she has to look at his eyes instead, her auxiliary lungs rising and falling in a shallow tempo that slowly spills a bit more sluggish blood from her wound into the valley between her breasts. How unnatural they were... for eyes to be red. She wishes they weren't. That demon's were crimson, too, and she has only the single stormy pupil left with which to regard them. Potential? Victory?]

If desire was enough, I myself would have been a goddess long ago.

[Everything she'd had, more effort than any mortal woman should have needed to exert just to live with something like dignity and respect as a person... in a world where gods did not smile upon jinba, it had gotten her nothing. Nothing but pain much unlike the simply wounds that she bears now. Was it blasphemous to say such a thing to a god? She says it anyway. What is he going to do... ? Abandon her? No, she doesn't want- Not the one person who had come down to this place looking for her- (How wretched.)

One of her hands shifts, and closes over the one curled on the trident beside her. Regardless of whether it was covered in sinister lines or not. Just a moment... before she tries to disguise it as just shifting her grip on the weapon, turning it blade down to shove into the icy steps beside her, point down. She will not grip it any longer like she needs a pacifier.

Instead, she puts her arms down at her sides, limp and willing to move as needed.]

... Do as you will.

[zauneyete]

[ Humiliating and Boring he says.

Silco does disregard this, because he has none of the acerbic hate and anger that Silco held, from working for too long for "greater masters". What it was like to live without, and to stretch resources so thin because it was the only way to survive. He looked at him, a single eye blinked, and Silco flicked his gaze to the child again, with their old eyes, gripping the pant leg of a man who saw them as pawns, and said so explicitly.

Was it kinder, he wondered, to be the pawn of someone who wanted to keep you alive, or to let one pass on for good?

Silco knew that this was the core of why he was here, with Zenith. Why he had signed on here, as opposed to Meridian. The rot that sunk deep into the bones of Zaun, from the fissures to the poisoned river, it all had a source, it was so obvious what it was like, but it also was far too different. This was not there. This world was shattered by ice and blight, these people could be sick within days, and they would not even know it. ]

Your foolish actions will cost us. Perhaps not now, and perhaps these now waking people will give you the glory for... [ A twitch in his face now, violent, knowing ] saving them from whatever holds them here. How grand.

And when they bring the blight to Highstorm? When they pass this sickness from here, to us, I'm sure I'll keep this in mind, that you cared for them.

[ Spread hands. ] What happens after is often just as important as the now. If you find a land for them, do you really think they'll thank you? Or do you think... this will happen all over again?

[ He's moving to the side now, steps cautious. He knows all too well, what it is to wrangle people out from their places in obscurity and to bring them to power. He knew how they were just as petty and unremarkable as the people above. ]

Are you worried I'm going to turn you in?

[epiprocta]

[ Gen, predictably, reacts to those needling comments with violence. To be specific, those last few words -- so lame -- have barely slipped past Reigen's lips before he rips a heavy book from the shelf he'd been leaning against and lobs it right at Reigen's head. For better or for worse, his aim's a little off at the moment, but he doesn't even care if that projectile hits its target or not.

There's a distinctly arrhythmic quality to his footsteps when he whirls right back around (a full 360 at this point) to close the distance between them with heavy, stomping footsteps; even if his anger briefly permits him to forget the pain ratcheting up his leg, his gait still comes uneven and limping right up until he grabs Reigen by the shirtfront and yanks him close. ]

What the hell do you think you know about me to talk to me like that, huh?!

[ Is he still leaning a bit against the nearest bookshelf to take the pressure off his busted leg? No, shut up. (Yes.)

Fabric strains beneath the tight grip of his knuckles as he yanks Reigen closer to snarl right into his face. ]

At least laugh at me properly if you're thinking I got what I deserve. Or are you too afraid of getting punched again?

[cutlery]

Fourteen.

[ He repeats it with a lightness in his tone that’s a bit hard to pin down where it’s coming from. It’s almost like recognition, but there’s a thoughtfulness to it that doesn’t quite fit. It’s really just a sort of detached interest in trying to pin down ages for humans, since that’s close to Ciel’s age, but… Well, Crona doesn’t look all that fit themselves, but they’re certainly taller than Ciel. Perhaps his little master was just a runt. Ah, well. ]

Ah, well… [ He ends up just saying his thoughts, though the transition is unrelated. The question is a bit of a difficult one, though at least not something secret here in Kenos. ] To be completely honest with you, I do not know. It is a somewhat difficult thing for me to know.

[ It’s an unhelpfully vague statement, but it’s really just because Sebastian doesn’t want to dive into the complicated matter of it immediately. His answer will kind of explain it decently enough, which is why he gives a little shrug. ]

Several thousand years, at least. Which, I do hope that I am not the first inhuman person you have met, on that note. At least in Kenos, I do seem to be rather on the extreme end of things so far as that is concerned, mind you.

[cutlery]

[ Sebastian’s first reaction is a nod, though it’s quickly followed by a light confusion. Vacation may as well be a completely foreign word to him, and it has nothing to do with his nature, for once. No, he really just is a workaholic in purely his personality. He’s sure right away that he would hate a vacation since a day off at the manor had been a struggle for him, so he just ends up nodding again slightly. ]

Ah, well, I am compensated well, I think. Or was at the manor, technically…? [ Ciel’s soul had been perfect payment, and though he had been sour about losing out on it in Horos, Lady Yima had at least made sure he had his due. So. ] But assisting with Zenith affairs is simply my duty. I need no compensation for that.

[ It’s so plain and matter-of-factly stated that it seems like some kind of inherent expectation with how he says it… But, no, it’s absolutely absurd. No one should be subject to the standards that Sebastian gives himself. He truly doesn’t think much of it, and it’s why he can at least smoothly move on to address the rest, since now Reigen’s work is very interesting to him. ]

Oh, my. [ says the evil spirit(ish), absolutely more in the cadence of a polite grandmother than a scary demon, ] How interesting. I have encountered those that work with spirits and exorcisms and the like in my time, but only ever really in passing. I also do not know if they were any good at it, in truth, so that is a very impressive rate. If I may, what was the most fearsome thing you have encountered?

[goldendeceiver]

[ The continued anxious behavior is noticed, but given the lack of hesitation in approaching him, and the subject at hand, there's a pretty good reason that it can be chalked up to right now. Finding out that going around and saving those who have been frozen might present all sorts of problems is reason enough to be anxious in Ernesto's eyes.

He's glancing at the scroll himself, his frown getting more pronounced as he quickly scans the page. ]

If "It" is the Blight, or something related to it...

[ He reads it a second time, before handing it back to her. ]

It would be nice if whoever wrote this had time to finish explaining what those changes were, though...

[ One ear twitches as he considers something. ]

How did a half finished letter written in a panic end up on the library shelves?

[epiprocta]

[ Dextera lunges for the doppelganger, and with how intensely it's been gazing at him, it must be no surprise that it moves to retaliate at the same moment. Wounded or not, it might have even managed to land a reciprocal blow to Dextera, with a little luck.

-- except Gen manages to disentangle himself from that dizzying, stomach-churning haze of his copy's words just enough to move. He hurls his own mace at the doppelganger.

That copy of his manages to dodge the incoming projectile with ease; its trajectory is obvious, and its shape makes it a poor weapon for throwing, its weight spinning end over end with a heavy whooshing noise as it clips past the doppelganger to smash into a distant mirror. But that brief distraction does restrict the doppelganger's possible routes of movement, and by the time it returns its focus to Dextera, it's a little too late.

It staggers back as that sword rips a deep gash through its chest. Its own mace clatters heavily to the ground as it reflexively clutches at its chest, struggling to process what must be a significant amount of pain. ]

-- aha. [ But still, it talks, like it's what it was made for. Its gaze fixes sharp on Dextera. ] You really don't care, do you. -- you did that without hesitating at all.

[ Even as it starts to wobble on its feet, its smile is venomous. Getting in one last barb before it perishes. ]

Your pity's wasted, y'know. Just let him die next time. It'll be better for everyone that way.

[epiprocta]

[ Gen might have reacted to her previous cowering with disdain and anger, but it's not like that simpering smile of hers is received any more warmly. (god, this motherfucker is so hard to please.) His eyes narrow in scrutiny and disdain for a moment before he crouches down to her level, meeting her gaze properly.

Of course, he's not smiling back. ]

Did I ask you to give me that shitty play-acting? [ He gives a disdainful huff. No, he's not at all threatened by that bright, gormless smile she wears, but it still pisses him off. ] So you start with sniveling and crying, then you move onto wagging your tail and smiling like an idiot. You think I'm gonna believe any of this shit you're pulling? You reek of insincerity.

[ Then -- ]

Hand it over.

[ Gen holds his hand out once more in a patronizing gesture, like he's demanding a dog perform 'hand.' There'd be some comical irony to the situation given he's the one sporting canine features at the moment, except he looks like he wouldn't hesitate to bash her head back into the bookshelves if she laughs.

Though -- he deliberately fails to specify whether he means her sand or her shard, like he'd first insisted. Maybe she'll at least have the guts to stick to her argument that the Sand is better? Maybe she's hiding some tiny hint of a backbone somewhere in there? Maybe not. Time to see exactly what brand of spineless, lying coward this one is. ]

[consolation]

[She's kept the conversation going, but perhaps next time she should let it breathe a little before continuing, hm? It seems this young woman needs more time to hold a thought in her head rather than letting it seed in the background or bursting out immediately.]

Not exactly.

But, you should know. If you ask a possessed person if they're possessed, most of them won't be able to answer truthfully.

[She isn't quite finished yet, but she turns now more or less fully to look directly at Gray, pulling hair from her shoulder.]

That's why it's important to have means of detecting such spiritual anomalies. [She does pause instead of continuing this time, giving gray time to interpret. Does she understand what those means are?]

[ragou]

[ Perfectly accommodating. Douman mirrors her ease with his derivative of it, his posture straight-backed and demure; it's only the sharpness of his expression that betrays him despite the beguiling smile he wears, the knife's-edge tar of his dark eyes. ]

Mm, mm... how foreboding! My text details drastic measures for dire circumstances, and yours details the potential outcome of said drastic measures.

It's so often that magecraft backfires spectacularly against poor odds. A tragedy, a tragedy indeed...

[ Theatrical head-shaking. He doesn't sound sorry or troubled at all, incidentally. ]

What say you, my lady? I suppose it'd make one's heart ache to consign others to the freezing pits of this hell, but I commend your commitment to self-preservation!

[ragou]

[ Long fingers wind around Hythlodaeus' hand; Douman is cold to the touch and his palm is slick from his double's tar, but the contact holds, and he sweeps up onto his feet.

The doppelgänger, of course, doesn't like this development one bit. It claws at the partition between itself and his original, dark eyes fixed on the newcomer, its ravenous mouth split in a reptilian grin.

You bring calamity to this earth by aiding him, it says. Douman laughs. ]

Hm, hm... yes, let us! I shudder to think what I would do to you if we lingered any longer.

[ And so, depending on whether or not Hythlodaeus is looking for a bit of a fight sequence hereー Douman staggers on his feet, trying to make distance from that cursed mirror. ]

[ragou]

[ A business card. Silence stretches between them after it's proffered, an open and honest consideration amidst all of... this, whatever the fuck it is. The unhinged, Blight-crazed impatience in Douman settles as his dark eyes brush over the familiar shape of his homeworld language (Japanese, he notes with distant satisfaction); for a while, his focus floats around leonine instead of threatening.

「霊とか相談所」, and 霊幻. This stranger's name is so on-the-nose that Douman wonders, momentarily, if it's a pseudonym, and the thought makes him laugh. As genuine as someone like him can be. ]

Ah, ah... I see, hm!

[ Long fingers pluck the crisp card-stock from Reigen's hand. "A new star", he mouths. ]

My apologies, Reigen-dono. Quite embarrassing, to have acted so brashly in front of a fellow Spiritualistー I barely escaped death by the skin of my nose, it seems.

[ Stepping back, palms up. The business card crumbles between his blue-shimmering fingers, oops. ]

Mm, mm. Reigen... "rei"-"gen". What a charming name, a charming name indeed.

[ragou]

[ There we go. "Demon". One without a clear contract, in the same way that Douman is an entity without a clear Master. Lines and parallels, drawn quickly and with wicked glee. Douman's lips curl, the amusement semi-serrated. ]

Ah! A demon... how fantastic! This humble priest is omnivorous, you seeー a creature with an affinity for both the harmless and the harmful!

[ Craning forward, tipping towards Sebastian the way a sunflower bends towards light. Too close for comfort, in some contexts; a cat arching itself into the nook of someone's personal space. ]

Lady Yima certainly has good taste, to have such esteemed company within her ranks. I, too, am a demon of sortsー a beast of circumstance, a walking shadow! Relieved of my homeworld burdens, given independence here in Kenos.

Ah, the joy of being untethered! [ As if he wasn't already unhinged back in his world, as if he has ever been good at anything but pursuing his own interests. ] Mmmmm, Sebastian-dono, how good it feels to have found a kindred spirit in you!

[appeale]

[ the hand that grazes Rudbeckia's ribs causes a shudder to run through her, though she doesn't flinch away from the touch and obediently moves to sit as Set directs her. this is a mercy - not a kindness, merely an act of tolerance - that she isn't often afforded, and so she doesn't put on any pointless show of strength or embarrassment. no matter what she does, she will never be respected by this man, nor considered an equal—what would be the point, then, in pretending as though she has pride? right now, her vision is spinning, she wants to sit, and he'll allow it.

but he could have at least waited for her nausea to subside before he showed her that awful sight. while Ruby does visibly react upon seeing his marked hand, pale with horror and her own fingertips pressed to her mouth, she doesn't cry out. and despite all her playing at the kind-hearted fool, she doesn't offer him any words of sympathy, or gaze upon him with worry. Set does not speak of whatever wretched thing haunts him, and Ruby does not ask.

(in a dark corner of her mind, she leaves her own thoughts about curses, like rusty knives.)

her only response is to the words that Set speaks aloud: ] I could understand if it were done in anger... It destroys everything it spreads to, and from the sounds of things, it may drive people mad. And the way it behaves like a plague makes me think of, like—how a grudge can last a really long time. But I can't imagine this as an act of mourning.

[ ... no, she spoke too strongly. she shouldn't have said that. a marionette string pulls, one that she does not control, and the laughing words that leave her mouth aren't her own. ]

What would I know? I've never felt anything like that, so I'm really just babbling nonsense, I'm sorry.