⏳ 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

ashiya douman | zenith | savant

[ragou]

a. CASTLE.

[ In life and death, Douman's always been methodical; call it cowardice, call it misplaced studiousness, call it the chip on his shoulder. He listens to the terms of their little game, and counts his odds the way he would count cards, stacks his chips and considers, with distant disdain, what he or others would do to add or subtract from the pile.

His conclusion: it's a zero-sum game. He simply doesn't have enough intel or resources to play the field the way he'd want to, and thusー

ーhe's stuck fiddling with building blocks. Creating a foundation on which he can strategize later. Putting some of his cards on the table, while keeping some of them obscure. Flaunting usefulness for now, lest someone get it in their heads that he needs to be put to ice.

So: here's Douman, crouched on the edge of a deep pool leading down into what seems to be a recordkeeper's study. He's poised with the ends of his long priest's robe lapping at the surface of cold water, a paper doll hovering above his outstretched hand: he flicks a long index, and the vaguely human-shaped paper dives gracefully down into the depths, remaining curiously intact and sharp for a few impossible seconds before disintegrating into flickers of shadow.

Hm, he hums, and looks over his shoulder. The bells at the ends of his hair chime and echo in the cavernous space of the room. ]

Mmー water so cold that it repels shikigami! How vexing, how vexing. [ He laughs, sounding utterly unbothered. Come on Douman, at least Try. ] It seems that we may not be able to cheat our way through this one!

b. EATING PARLOUR.

[ Another attempt here, much like the attempt at the underwater room, to use ingenuity for intel: Douman, watching from a distance as one of his Unseen Servants approach one of the Blighted plants and lets it fragment into pieces. Hmm.

Doesn't look promising. Allowing his spell to dissipate, he moves to inspect the pile of shattered glass with distant interest before deciding that it seems, in fact, Sus; something he'd leave at that, if not for the third party in the garden now, who he notes with even vaguer interest.

His smile stays, preternatural. He motions to the mess he's made. ]

Another trap for us hapless Shard-bearers to stumble upon. Creative culling methods, to be sure! Mm, there's no shortage of them in this place.

c. HALL OF MIRRORS.

[ The custom starter prompt! Give me a blank comment to this toplevel with "C: HELPING" or "C: NEEDS HELP" in the subject and I'll write something custom for your character and Douman. ♥ ]

d. WILDCARD.

[ Another "nudge me for a custom starter" prompt!! If otter conspiracy crew wants to pull up, I can make a starter for library conspiracy chats; if we want to do first intros here too, I'm happy to finagle something! PM me or poke me on Plurk/Discord, I don't bite! ]

(( ooc; also, belatedlyー i do have an opt-out post for Douman, given the generally unpleasant nature of his character! please feel free to opt-out, no questions asked. your comfort and fun is the most important thing! ))

a!

[sanguinary]

[me like hehe they're the same aspect! oh no they're the same aspect

WHICH MEANS, I SUPPOSE, that Douman might feel The Vibes before he sees Matsui, as he enters the room like a silent ghost from the backmost entrance point. It's a placid sort of curiosity, and then a little ringing sensation of ah, how familiar - shikigami are no strange thing to him, after all, even if they come in different forms.]

Oh? I was unaware that temperatures could repel them in such a way.

[Maybe because it's freaky otherworldly cursed cold in a reality at the end of all worlds?? Things to consider.

Not that Matsui does. Instead, he moves up to the edge of the water, crouching down near it and reaching out to let his fingers soak knuckle-deep. He makes a face, radiating a clipped and irritated feeling.]

I dislike being cold.

[Maybe a strong enough chill could repel even a tsukumogami.]

[ragou]

[ With his spiritual sensitivity slightly returned (only slightly), Douman can feel Matsui's presence with more clarity now; take that as you will. (Hint: it's Not Good.) It's the familiar feeling of something closely tethered to the culture he's come from, which makes him look...

...what, more at ease? It's complicated. We never said a clown is easy to understand.

He laughs at Matsui's brief attempt at tackling their water issue, because of course he does. Breaking his crouch, he decides to full-on sit in seiza style by the edge of the pool, giant hands folded demurely on his lap. ]

Fufu, if it's cold enough to repel shikigami, it would be cold enough to repel you, I suppose!

[ A tacit question: "what, exactly, are you?", though he doesn't expect an answer for being obtuse. ]

It would've been more ideal for Tibbs-dono to have handed out winter clothing for his esteemed visitors, but ah, how unlucky for us that this world keeps being so unaccommodating.

[sanguinary]

[IS ANYTHING THAT HAS TO DO WITH DOUMAN GOOD IN ANY WAY!!

But honestly, fair, it was hardly even an attempt. He really didn't try at all. Not even a gold star for effort. His hand is still in the water, though, and he closes his eyes for a moment as he considers the question. Bold move around a clown, even if said clown is sitting seiza with their big meaty claws folded for the time being.]

I do not believe so. [Tsukumogami are, after all, minor gods. Though in a weakened state... Hm. Well, neither here nor there, considering--] But I dislike being cold. [He said it twice...

Anyway, more importantly, he completely agrees that this world is rude as hell! With a sigh, he opens his eyes again, finally withdrawing his hand from the water so he can examine the now-red skin of his fingertips.]

This environment is bad for the blood. [TO SAY THE LEAST.] It won't be long before those with the least robust of it begin to sicken. I would like to keep that from happening for as long as possible, for as many people as I'm able to help.

[This is going to be A Task, since he barely knows how the human body works. Girl help.]

b

[baltimores]

[ Amos has been hanging back a touch, because seeing what this guy was up to was interesting and it's not like he wanted to interrupt. It was an experiment in progress; no reason he can't benefit from what's learned from it too, right?

He's frowning, both in thought and discomfort, staring at the blighted remains. Really does not like the blue outline around them, and it takes him an additional couple of seconds of processing it before he looks up at Douman, acknowledges his words. ]

Whole place feels like it's designed to kill us. 'course, that intro we got didn't exactly help things. [ That fucking otter. His voice is level but for a touch of bitterness; kitten fully-grown man thinks of nothing but murder all day.

If he's welcome, Amos will take a few steps in, closer to Douman — though he has very little interest in getting too close to the blighted remains. Is actively hanging back, actually, an outward expression of extreme caution on his part. Still, his voice can tick up a little in compliment. ] That's a useful trick you got there, though.

[ragou]

[ Coal-gray eyes flick up over Amos, deep and lightless; despite the perpetual smile on his face and the way he demurs to the other man's presence, there's an undercurrent of something insincere about the way Douman holds himself, the patronization of someone who thinks that they know exactly how people will react to him at every given moment.

An ultimately benign annoyance, perhaps. Douman laughs at the mention of Mr. Tibbs, whose neck Douman still wants to hold between his teeth. You know, just Normal People Thoughts.

He stays where he is, when Amos approaches. All six foot five of him, garish like a bruise in the blue-white of their surroundings. ]

Mm, I do make it a habit to have tricks at my disposal! [ A flick of his hand, and he conjures a paper doll from under his wide sleeve; it floats in place, the mono-eye painted on its torso staring at Amos, unblinking. ] As much as this world has attempted to neuter us, some things remain inherent, perhaps.

[ He hums. ] Have you run into any trouble yet?

[baltimores]

[ It's like looking into a mirror.

Well, not quite. There's a sincerity to Amos, it's just buried under layers of nothingness, the safety blanket of a mind making sure there are just some things it'll never have to think about. Suppression at its finest. He's a pleasant, open book as far as he'll let himself be read.

He doesn't judge, either. So even though Douman's not quite who he's used to talking to, he's got no problems carrying on like not a whole lot's different here (in some ways, the patronization is annoying; in others, a relief). There are frozen fish people everywhere and there's an otter that's gotta be hopped up on something; this is very minor, comparatively.

Even the paper doll. Amos stares at it, not breaking eye contact — wait, can it even see? — before craning his neck up some to be able to meet Douman's gaze properly. The tragedy of being a mere five foot eleven. ]

You mean other than the part where there's an insane otter running the place, it's freezing everywhere, and I gotta spend my own life force just to eat? [ Though that'd probably explain his presence here, specifically, wouldn't it. ] Not really. I'm sure that'll change sooner or later, but not exactly looking to tempt fate.

[ Speaking of, his eyes flick towards the paper doll. The blighted shards decorating the ground. ]

Should probably use one of your tricks to at least sweep all that off into the corner, if you got anything that can do that.

[ Outwardly he's calm, but it's probably easy to pick up on the context clue of ooooh he really does not like the look of those things. ]

a

[cutlery]

[ The unique silhouette stands out, and with Douman just being a curious sort (putting it lightly), Sebastian can hardly resist stepping into the room to see what he’s up to. He doesn’t announce his presence, but the click of his smartly shined shoes is announcement enough. His neutral expression lights into surprise as he catches a glimpse of what Douman is actually doing. The little paper doll is something that Sebastian has no context for whatsoever, so it’s an interesting surprise.

He watches as it dives but then disintegrates, since the little shikigami has his attention far more than the study below. It’s a problem fairly easy for him to solve, after all. ]

Ah, a shikigami is what it is called?

[ He breathes out a little note that’s curious and maybe impressed. He’s a fan of novelty, and maybe that’s why he decided to chat with Douman again, who knows, ]

Is it a familiar of some sort? I have seen nothing like it.

[ragou]

[ Novelty is truly the only reason anyone should approach Douman, and once it wears off, people should run in the other direction. ALAS.

He heard Sebastian come in, of course, but he feigns surprise with all the faux-innocence of someone who wants to be underestimated. For now. Just a humble monk, trying to contribute to the cause. ]

Mmmm! Good day, Sebastian-dono.

[ WE WILL ASSUME, they have traded names, ]

You remain as astute and well-informed as ever! Yes, yes, this is what the West would call a "familiar". [ He pronounces the term slowly, as he conjures another paper doll from seemingly thin air. ] I've not been able to properly acclimate to this world yet, so my familiars here have been rudimentary at best. How embarrassing, how embarrassing.

[cutlery]

[ Sebastian watches with interest as another appears. It’s not the sort of thing he’s unfamiliar with at all, for he was once well known for granting excellent familiars, but after one too many “accidents” (as he would call them), it was the sort of thing he decided was more trouble than it was worth. Though his familiars had also been considerably more prone to biting. The little papers are therefore a novel version of it. ]

Ah, not so embarrassing, I would say. It is very interesting, at least to me.

[ He takes another step closer to take a better look, but then it’s down into the water. ]

Did something down there catch your eye? Or merely curiosity to see?

b

[wolof]

[ Unfortunately, Akua is no longer a ghost, and thus cannot just subsist on... nothing, she must search for something that looked like rations. Of course, there was what the Meridian provided, but there were plenty of them, and she did not doubt that a clever Zenith, or perhaps even this blight itself, would make the need for locating more necessary.

That she had been in a similar situation before, with rapidly dwindling resources and little hope of finding more in time... it made her at least able to accept it and start looking for more. Here in this large castle, there were... plenty of little nooks and crannies to look through, plenty of possibilities of food. She'd stepped in to start rifling, only to find someone there, and clearly working on an experiment.

Interesting. Her eyes took in the sight of the spread of glass on the table. ]

Blighted as well? I'd hoped to find some things in here that didn't have signs of the disease.

[ She admitted, her tone curious, all the same. ]

A blight like this, that turns such things into shards like that will be...difficult to circumvent, don't you think?

[ragou]

[ Douman is on the same boatー no longer fully dead (weird), re-acclimating to needing human resources like rest and sustenance. A bit of a head start on his end, though, given that he'd lived an ascetic lifestyle for most of his still-human years.

Dark eyes fix on Akua, mirroring her curiosity. He turns away from the shards he's left, long sleeves of his priest's robes billowing in a nonexistent breeze. ]

Mm, they've certainly been impervious to any attempts to purify them or inspect them further, at least.

[ A tap of index to chin, mock-contemplative. ]

This island fancies us vultures to poisoned carrion. They've made fools of us all! How graceless of them, indeed.

[wolof]

Quite so.

[ She agreed. Another flower lay in a small vase, showing the same blight, and she did not reach out to touch it, but she turned her head as she examined it. There would be nothing on the surface to give her an in, but... ]

I suppose we could ask no better of them, given that they had no... time to prepare for our coming.

[ Her lips curled into a faint smile, at her own little joke, and she started to pick the flower apart with her magic, slippery letters that materialized and then floated into the ether, unreadable, as the petals pulled apart. The first shattered at the attempt.

The second peeled off as if pulled through a warped gate, but as soon as it materialized, it too shattered. The process of elimination wasn't...exactly helping. ]

a!!

[pyojeol]

--[me as aki: oh same aspect cool hehe, oh no same aspect

unlike matsui and the other weird-ass savants though, Sooyoung remains perfectly human! In that she's not radiating anything other-worldly, even as she tilts her head at the way the shikigami dissolves, curious rather than surprised.]

-- Do they just do your bidding? [ABRUPTLY] Or can you see and hear through them too?

[ragou]

[ The Savant party is so funny, it's like a bunch of gods and demigods and then, Sooyoung. I love them

That said, young women who have no reservations about bullying him is Douman's One Fear, so. He lingers around the edge of the pool, not quite surprised by the brazenness of the question, but something adjacent. ]

Hm? [ He turns his head, and the bells in his hair chime; bully him about his bad fashion choices, we implore you. ] Mmmm, a bit of everything, truly. Have you interest at all in onmyodo...?

a!

[lifespanned]

[ Misa's standing nearby when he performs his little test, arms crossed— and she looks massively disappointed when it doesn't work out. She's aware of her own talents - and going to war over grains of sand isn't one of them. Better to be sticking back and trying to find resources to help everyone else. It's just... she didn't expect the resource hunting to be so physically involved. Seeing someone using some magic to get ahead had given her a shred of hope that she wouldn't have to do things the hard way. ]

Whaaat? So we have to swim through it? [ Cue the world's biggest, most prissy sigh. ] Don't you have some other spells you can try first?

[ Please say sike, mysterious man? If anything, she'll take some procrastination before having to do some actual work. ]

[ragou]

[ Ah, the feeling of being depended upon (?). Douman turns when he's spoken to, and he probably looks more shinigami than man: giant, weird hair, big hands.

His smile splits his face, and the sound his palms make when they clap together, once, twice, is probably too loud for comfort. ]

Mm! Well, certainly, of course. This humble priest is one with many talents!

[ Actually not a lie, even if he sounds like the least trustworthy clown in the world. He continues: ]

But alas, my skills require energy. [ Is this bullshit? Possibly. ] If only it were the case that I were an endless wellspring of it... a tragedy, a true true tragedy!

CLOSED TO KAEYA.

[ragou]

[ Open a locked door, and find something forbidden inside.

The journey down from Library to Hall is almost template. Darkness, stairs, a labyrinthine passー for all the curveballs that The Scorching Isles (what a misnomer) have decided to throw, this one is pleasantly predictable. Textbook hidden area, with the ominous echoes of his own footsteps as background music.

For once, Douman finds the banality comforting.

What's less banal, however, is the sound of shifting cloth, the presence of another human tucked somewhere in the vast expanse of mirrors and frost that he's found himself in. Eventually, when Douman happens upon the source of the noise, he almost misses the stranger in the glimmer of light and ice; Kaeya is blue and silver and black, a wintry addition to the pale, muted colors of their surroundings.

He almost seems to belong here, him and his reflection against polished glassー

ーif not for the strange behavior of the stranger's doppelgänger. Furious, caustic, accusatory. ]

Hmm, [ Douman finally hums, breaking his silence and alerting Kaeya to his presence. ] You seem to be talking to yourself.

(cw: eye trauma) ready to get choked by massive honkers

[subsist]

[ Kaeya is blue and silver and black, but the one before him has a splash of red dripping slowly from an injured right eye. He has the doppelganger pushed up against one of the mirrors' glassy surfaces, a kaleidoscopic mess of show reflected upon the many others surrounding them. It is out here that Kaeya's actions are laid bare. All for everyone to see.

Footsteps echo loudly across the Hall, the only other noise save for Kaeya's ragged breathing. It looks like he and his shadow have been fighting each other for a while now. His clothes have tiny rips and tears, his hair is dishevelled, and his hands are stained bright red right where they are gripping way too tightly onto a jagged piece of ice. The very tip of it is dyed with the same hue.

Maybe Douman can fit the pieces together that make up the scene before him. ]

A traitor like you has no right to be a lost nation's last hope.

[ Kaeya grits his teeth, raising his hand once more, ready to dig the sharp edge of the ice into the spectre in an attempt to shut it up. ]

What was your first clue?

[ Hard to say if he's addressing either Douman or his own shadow. Maybe it's both. ]

CLOSED TO REIGEN.

[ragou]

[ The unhinged Blight option. Reigen should be so lucky to run into a six foot whatever behemoth with a literal plague as a halo; in another context, the blue shimmer might've been angelicー otherworldly, evenー but cast around the already-ominous bruise-black outline of Douman's everything, he just looks

evil. Like, more than usual.

In the pallid, muted lighting of the Eating Parlour, Douman inspires images of specters, of ghosts, of death. There's a delightful pretension about it all, the flowing robes and the garish hair, the unearthly chime of bells as he sweeps a palm over a dirty washcloth and watches it crumble, slowly, into dust.

Maybe Douman's enjoying it a little. Destructive, and self-destructive. When Reigen steps into the room (which I am assuming, unless Reigen has been here the entire time, in which case, RIP), there's a moment of silence where Douman turns, looks, and

smiles, carnivorous. Posture relaxed, sifting dust onto the floor. ]

Good day.

[ is it???? is it really a good day anymore???? ]

douman, crouched in a corner with his eyes glowing demonically: would you like a cookie?

[shisho]

[ The "eating parlor" ( god, just call it a kitchen with an attached pantry -- ) happens to be one of his main stops, given that it's a great place to pilfer food from for himself, as well as the gaggle of half-mad Atirat individuals he's worked on freeing from their timelocked bodies and counseling throughout the week. He comes in with an empty stockpot in his hands, the scent of cobbled-together stew still warm in it, and very nearly drops the thing onto the ground when he's

confronted with

the fucking specter of death that is Douman, looming nightmarishly in the room.

Had his hands not have been full, he would have jammed them into his coat pockets and flung a whole palmful of salt into the guy's face. He still might, but now he's lost precious seconds to his -- half-startlement, half-relief(?) is what he feels, really. In this alien world, looking at Douman is like seeing the specters and ghouls he deals with on a day-to-day basis. There's something sensible about Douman's apperance. He's fucking freaky as hell, but reassuring in his qualities. ]

G-good day.

[ He parrots it, sounding much like a crushed dog toy as he squeaks. ]

Ahem, I mean, [ LET'S GET THAT VOICE UNDER CONTROL, YEESH. ] Good day, please tell me you're one of the Shard-Bearers and not the actual, living specter of death also-and-or looming in the kitchens waiting for someone to eat, because you really look like you're the kind of guy who might eat your teammates. No offense, you know?

a

[comelately]

You won't. I'm not getting in there.

[ cheating or no cheating, he doesn't intend on dipping a single toe in those icy depths - drowning is a horrible way to die, or so he's heard. Without his horse, Johnny's relegated to his wheelchair again, which means he's not straying too far from the safety of the library without a good reason to expend that much effort. No such reason has appeared. Yet. Instead, he's been busying himself watching what everyone else is doing, skimming information from overheard conversations - or, as now, from the actions of others.

So the priest is a Stand user, or something like one - the assumption is made based on the little paper doll. It's hardly a surprise, given his outlandish... well, everything. He doesn't comment on it. ]

What's so interesting down there, anyway? Doesn't look like much.

[ragou]

Mm! Johnny-dono, good day.

[ Unfortunately, the honorifics will continue despite everyone's efforts to tell him to cut it out. Personal habits over other people's comfort. ]

Well, wellー my searching in the library hasn't yielded much in the way of information, so I turned my eye towards other pursuits. There seems to be a study of sorts underwater, yes?

[ Gesturing towards the vague outlines of a desk and chair in the murky water, the sort of thing you'd find in a bureaucrat's office. ]

I may be off the mark, of course, but knowing what I know about castles and royalty... mmmm, I supposed that bookkeepers would have chronicled the most important of events happening on the island before it froze over!

CLOSED TO HYTHLODAEUS.

[ragou]

[ Douman is talking to himself.

It's a strange thing to walk in on, probablyー a giant of a man, sitting with his legs folded in front of a polished mirror, laughing softly under his breath at the furious demon of his reflection in front of him. There's water and blood on the other side of that translucent partition, an ocean that Douman's doppelgänger is wading in, ankle-deep with the hem of his priest's robe stained; it doesn't flow beyond the glass, trapped on the other side despite the half-materialized state of the doppelgänger reaching out through the mirror.

A pale arm hovers over the real Douman's head. It stays, open-palmed, and drips ichor over Douman's hair: black and viscous, the tar runs from Douman's head to his shoulder, over his sleeve, into his lap.

"This is you", the double whispers. Its face is split in a grotesque smile, enunciating its words with gleeful malice. "The mud that simmers in you. The curse of your being, the culmination of your pointless life.

You were made in mud, and you return to mud."

Douman weathers the aggression with unhinged serenity; his smile almost matches his doppelgänger's, if not with the same vehemence. He hums in response, nodding along to the insults being hurled at him, until he notices that someone is watching.

Jet-black eyes swivel towards Hythlodaeus, his features obscured by the strange substance staining his face. ]

Ah. [ Coquettishly, with a tip of his head. ] How inopportune of you.

[ last chance to ruN AWAY, ]

[ktizo]

[It is a strange sight, one that has Hythlodaeus staring for a good moment before he takes a step forward. He doesn't manifest his bow, not yet, but he's ready to should he need to.]

Perhaps. Do you need assistance?

[He eyes the mirror- he doesn't like the sound of those insults, but perhaps more disturbing is the smile Douman wears as they're sent his way.]

You should not heed the mirror's words.

[Or should he? Hythlodaeus wouldn't know what kind of man Douman is, but somehow... it doesn't seem like listening to the insults is doing him any good.]