⏳ 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

[cutlery]

[ His smile increases by just a touch as she says his “name”. He’s honestly a little surprised that she’s still using it since he doubts she hadn’t heard what his “real” one was at this point. He won’t correct her, though. It’s an amusing little habit, and besides, there’s an extra layer of delightful irony considering that name’s usual association. ]

A lie? Goodness, it is nothing of the sort. It is always a pleasure to see you. [ His gaze turns purposefully towards her hands as he looks at her tense knuckles. ] Though clearly, not a sentiment returned. I am hurt.

[ That’s the lie, and it’s obvious with the cloying sweetness of how he says it. And, well. The fact that even with their limited interactions, it’s probably obvious that he’s not a creature that exactly feels “hurt”. Sebastian looks back to her face as he folds his hands neatly and primly behind his back. ]

We have not spoken since our thoughts were forcibly joined. [ As far as she knows, at least. ] How have you been faring?

[warmare]

[Why call him "Sebastian" when she could call him "Gabriel" and remind him and anyone else around them that he was a godsdamned liar? The overt sweetness in his tone makes her want to vomit... but thankfully? her last meal (which had been... more hours ago than she preferred) has already left her first stomach and her ability to throw it up behind.]

If I had hurt you, you would be bleeding, demon.

[Her stormy grey eyes watch sharply as he tucks his hands behind his back- something she assumes is an insipid little act to make sure if she did strike him that anyone watching would view him as an innocent victim of the angry beast woman.

Tch. He and that churlish elf could put on a fucking play.]

You do not care how I am faring.

[cutlery]

[ He laughs and ducks his head with it, as perfectly genuine in his reaction to her threat as if she had told a funny joke. It’s not as if he doubts she could. Why, he can still bleed, after all. But she would not have the advantage of him being restricted to his human form. Her thoughts are correct, because he’d surely put on a show of bleeding and letting her think she’s won before responding with viciousness to match it.

But of course, not here and not now. He’s only a gentleman, and it’s why as he draws back up, it’s with a little shrug. ]

Do you not think so?

[ He’s tempted to taunt her more viciously, but he holds back. It would be boring to have the conversation stop just as it’s started. ]

Well, you may be right about caring, but that is not so surprising. It is not an emotion I am capable of feeling. [ besides for his cats, but, ] May I say I am interested instead?

[warmare]

[He is skilled, this demon. Look at him laugh and smile and shrug and prance as if he were human, and look at all the stupid fools in this library who believe him. Even people she has told of his nature as she saw it... Hah. Hah.

She is getting angrier by the minute, but there is no outlet here, and if she gives in to showing it... He will "win". She had already barely wrested a stalemate from the hands of that slaver in Springstar, she cannot lose again so soon-]

You can say whatever you want, snake.

[She doesn't even want to give him "Gabriel".]

It does not mean I will just go along with whatever sick little game you're trying to play. What, are you bored and unable to find another eye to take?

[The last time they'd spoken, her face had been covered by bandages- at least now she has procured a proper dark leather path???]

[cutlery]

[ Her especially curt reply and the fact that he can just see that his mere presence is getting to her makes his smile soften. Rather than the sweet cheer, it’s calm, cool, and smug in the way she expects. ]

Dear me. Do I vex you so?

[ He holds her gaze without so much as a flicker of fear or the beastly viciousness she’s seen before. He’s not sure which would bother her more, but either delights him. But his gaze drifts with purpose to her eyepatch. He cants his head lightly as if looking at something interesting. ]

Is that what you would prefer? That I be a beast, plain for all to see?

[warmare]

[Just because she only has one eye doesn't mean that she can't see where the demon's gaze lingers. She hates how easy it is, for him to vex her. Hates knowing that if this were her world, if she just had her goddamned hooves on the ground... she could stomach it. She could keep her cool, she could maintain the elegant, icy facade that she was known for, that she was praised for by her prospective buyers... but she has not been that woman for months.

Maybe that woman was dead.

Instead of answering directly either of the questions he poses... Hayame leans down enough to meet him at eye level, uncomfortably close for someone she isn't attacking.]

Having to watch you prancing around this room playing helpful little two-leg for these ignorant, smiling humans makes me sick.

[Close enough for her snarl not to need to carry far, for the hatred and resentment (and jealousy) in her remaining eye to be unmistakable.]

[cutlery]

[ As she leans closer, Sebastian’s gaze shifts just a bit to carry more of his smile. She’s close, and it’s at least enough for his attention to be drawn well away from the eyepatch. It flickers to her teeth, and specifically, their sharpness. For most creatures, it would inspire fear, but he only feels a visceral thrill as he remembers how they had torn into his neck. It’s a feeling only heightened when he sees those emotions written plainly on her face. When he made meals of such negative things, they’re as sharply seen as a wolf would smell blood in the wind. ]

Ah… True. It must be wretched to see. Few here know me so intimately as you.

[ His tone is dark velvet since this closeness also makes him want to tease in a way that’s ill-fittingly sensual. ]

[warmare]

[Wretched. That is what he uses to describe that feeling, and that- that is what she has become. A wretched, desperate, one-eyed nag that can only cling to life and honor until she has satisfied the need to return to her home to kill herself. In the demon's eyes, she fears that this truth is penetrated... and oh, how she wishes she could rob him of his eyes in return so that he might never see it.

So that she might not see it in her own face, reflected in them.]

I spit on your intimacy.

[The velvet smoothness of his voice makes her flesh prickle and her vestigial mane raise, her tail twitch and whip out with a slap of sound against the wall behind her.]

Even if not a single person-

[The hitch in her words, the way she has to cut herself off and rephrase it will betray her, more than any hurt in her hissed tone. Hurt she can cover with rage, with anger, like she always had... but it is still there, buried deep not but deep enough- the pain of a woman who feels betrayed that the few people she had shamefully shared her anguish with seemed to refuse to believe her fully or hate the demon even remotely as much as she did.]

I will make sure everyone here knows you for what you are, demon.

[Her hand lashes out as if to grab him, to fist in his shirt and haul him off his feet into the air so that she might snarl with those sharp teeth in his face, but there is a truce and if she does, he will win, just like that churlish elf had won, and her hand fists impotently in the air, white-knuckled and spasming as if she truly could feel his throat there between her fingers.]

So the next time we fight... you had better crush my wretched shard if you ever wish to know peace.

[... Part of her hopes he does.]

[cutlery]

[ That little hitch, the moment of hesitation, it may as well be blood in the water. His expression shifts subtly, but it’s definitely losing that sultry edge. It’s more hardened as if in response to her words, but she has to know it’s not that. It’s latching onto something soft and tender and digging in claws. As her hand reaches out to him, he looks at her hand, then reaches up to his own neck. It’s so smooth that it could be perceived as an idle gesture… To an onlooker, at least. His gloved fingers trace familiar lines lightly on his throat where her teeth had been. ]

I will not stop you. Some already do, after all. They know what I am and what I can do, but they still love me for it.

[ An exaggeration, perhaps, though not far from the truth. There were indeed plenty of people that Sebastian had been perfectly straightforward with. Some paid for the privilege. Others simply made up their own interpretations of the oddly pleasant demon. But it’s not that detail that matters. It’s the word he chooses. Love. He knows that word in particular will dig into the vulnerability she almost showed more openly. His hand drops as he finishes tracing out the lines. ]

But I feel I should point out your misunderstanding. I do not wish for peace. That should be obvious, yes? I would not have fought so viciously for the poor excuse of a leader the Regent was if that were what I desired. I meant what I said, after all. I will escalate no further until you decide the time is right.

[warmare]

[But they still love me for it.

He might as well have slapped her in the face. She looks like he had. Even though she will curse him, curse herself for letting him get to her so easily... he strikes so surely and so viciously at the cracks in her heart that she has no defense against it, having spent all of her effort defending against slander towards her strength as a warrior, or her ability to kill him again now that his powers had returned to him.

He could be lying, just to spite her... but it is too believable. In Horos... She had been without a single true ally. (If the gaping hole in her memory had been one... it is gone to her, and with it, any warmth or sentiment that could have been there.) At every turn, the actions she had taken in pursuit of what she thought was right and just had earned her little but scorn, her military action viewed as obscene or grossly violent when to her they were simply the way of the world. And here...

Here... She'd almost let herself think that she might have allies. Not... friends, she had never imagined that she would have such a thing, not ever in her life, and yet this disgusting demon that has sewn himself into the suit of a handsome, well-mannered gentleman who cooks and smiles and tends to others as if he cares about them is-

Is-

The truce would likely not allow for her to seize him, to slam him into the ground, to rip into his throat, to break his cheek beneath her fist, and so at the last moment before she lashes out... she makes sure it is with an open hand.]

[cutlery]

[ He’s goading her, and so he absolutely deserves whatever comes. It’s not something he’d contest in the slightest. So, when the slap comes, he takes it without so much as a flinch. He turns his head with the momentum of the slap (or maybe has it turned, in part, since Hayame is strong), but his expression only becomes more smug for it. He doesn’t even need to respond, since his look is clear enough. He’d started chatting to rile her up, and he’d succeeded. ]

A little slap is likely fine in turns of a truce, hm?

[ He reaches up to touch his cheek gingerly even though it stings, and his skin is starting to redden just as it would for any human. Or anything pretending to be human. ]

Well, it is a touch difficult to return to reasonable conversation after that. [ He lowers his hand with a shrug, then takes a step away. ] So I shall bother you no further for the day. Do take care.

[warmare]

[She has made a mistake.

Hayame knows it the second her hand connects with his cheek, but there's no taking it back. There is only the burning, impotent rage and shame that always fills her in his presence, that is inflamed every time she sees that disgustingly smug smirk twist his pretty lips into a mockery of human emotion.

A touch difficult, he says, somehow not suffering from whiplash or a broken orbital bone, do take care... and she knows he's won. Just like that fucking elf had won, and insufferable earth-moving brat, and-]

Go back to hell.

[She cannot keep standing there after that display, subject to the gawks and stares of other shard-bearers or that stupid magic river weasel. After just long enough to pretend that she wasn't leaving because of him...

Hayame leaves the warmth of the occupied Library for the lonely, cold hostility of the frozen castle.]