⏳ 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

[zauneyete]

[ 'Don't', he says, and Silco feels the vibrant burn of his fury. He can't help it, and it's apparent on his face, the way his lips twitch -- the quick, barely-there baring of his teeth into something almost feral -- the way his eyes dart, as if he's thinking about something not there -- the shard in his rooms in Highstorm, neatly tucked with the remnants of whatever metal, half-formed inventions and artwork Jinx had left, carefully alarmed and kept away from any tampering -- and for a moment, there's not just fury -- something else? -- but he's quick to plaster the holes in his armor, and cover it up.

Don't, Vander says, as if he has any right to memories of Jinx. He'd explained it to her plenty of times, how Vander wasn't the man they all thought that he was. For all his high-minded words, the promises of "playing nice" with their betters that looked down their noses at them and saw only dirty little specks of waste, only good enough to work in their mines and labor for them to sip their fancy drinks, or make themselves richer -- little more. No, being quiet, and meek, "causing no trouble" while the Enforcers refused to breathe their air, and was worth more than their freedom.

Silco hated Vander. Not just because of what was done to him, but because he represented something deeply wrong in philosophy. He could say that the people were worth so much more -- perhaps he had? -- but what did that matter, if they never moved forward? Never gained independence? Silco could have tasted it, how close they were, but now there was nothing, and he didn't care. The promise of Meridian was to bring all of Runeterra back, down to the Pilties, and he would never give them such an honor. ]

Did you know that last time, I had side effects from the tree? [ He asked, his tone sharp, dangerous. ] I'm more dangerous than you give me credit for.

[ Or perhaps that was a delusion. Had Vander not tried to snuff his life out for fear of what he would do? Had he not had to keep to shadows and live in an abandoned canning factory because he was dangerous, while Vander remained a pillar of the community?

He doesn't tell him that he's wrong -- he's listened to only Caitlyn and Vi, after all. Not Sevika, or Jinx, or the people who were thriving in this new Zaun, a city of pure freedom and excess. Instead -- ]

You say 'don't' as if you have any rights to make demands, Vander. I'm taking what I'm due, that's all.

[ He doesn't say: I'm taking away my daughter, it's too close, to raw and too open. Only Kaeya and Sebastian knew about that, and Silco didn't want to speak it into existence, let other people know there was a raw and gaping wound left from his daughter's absence.

He instead felt at the edges of his shield spell, intending to use that to block Vander's metal fists -- old relics of a time from when they were boys, when they hadn't fostered so much animosity between them -- and when he could feel the edges of the spell return to him, sufficient power to keep him from getting strangled in a random room in the Scorching Isles, he slipped forward, about as fast as a near-50-year-old could move. Speed was not something he was gifted with. ]

[exhound]

[Silco’s anger is an old, familiar thing by now. There’s a certain barely-restrained intensity to it when it creeps into something personal—and when it comes to the two of them, it almost always was personal—that Vander can recognize in those twitches of his expression. He was bound to be furious after their last confrontation, that was expected and… hell, even understandable, even if he had brought that fate upon himself by taunting him. But there’s another layer to it here that sets a feeling of unease in Vander’s chest.

If this is about the girl, he can venture a guess. His old enemy couldn’t tolerate any common ground between them, not anymore. And for something so personal as a shared connection with a daughter? No wonder he’s so damn furious. He’s always been unbelievably childish; if he couldn’t have something all to himself, he would throw a fit until he got his way. It’s no wonder Jinx had looked and Vander with such fury in her eyes the last time they stood face-to-face. He can only imagine what insipid stories Silco had been filling her head with.

He doesn’t doubt Silco has more tricks up his sleeve than Vander could possibly guess. He’s picked up all manner of tricks on his own as time marched on here in this new world, so of course someone as industrious and opportunistic as Silco would have found ways to even the playing field. He isn’t like to reveal them, whatever they may be, until the right moment. He could try to bait him to tip his hand, but… no, he’s far too careful for that.]

Try me, then, if you’re so confident.

[So he’ll just have to play it by ear, put his money on being quick enough to react. And maybe if he’s lucky, that barely restrained anger pushing Silco forward will push him towards being sloppy.

Vander’s moving forward the moment Silco begins closing that distance in earnest, feet quick on the cold stone floor and lowering himself slightly for a head-on charge. There’s no swing of a metal fist just yet, but his unarmed hand does go swinging toward him as he flies forth in an attempt to tackle.]

[zauneyete]

[ Though there was an invitation to attack, Silco's feet are quick and confident. He hadn't ever been a brawler, but they'd both been in plenty of scraps in their youth, and then there was the wealth of experience that dealing with his time in Horos and here combined. He is not a fighter, never will be a fighter, but he will indulge in the violence necessary to take what is his. Whether Vander liked it or not, whether he accepted it or not didn't matter, Jinx was not his daughter, in his mind, never had been, because Powder was as dead as the rest of her family had been. Just like Silco had been reborn from the water, so had she.

Did it help? He remembers her asking Kaeya, deep within Kowloon. When the shared promise of drowning hadn't --

No. It had helped. It couldn't have not, and he would not let a moment of questioning, a moment of uncertainty haunt him. The past always haunted them. Eternally.

He watched with an unblinking eye as Vander didn't even allow him the right to charge again. His motions are obvious -- because Vander had the bulk and strength to do whatever he wished -- but Silco didn't mind that. He wanted to be close, but he didn't want to be tackled. No hands on his throat, choking the life out of him this time. He won't allow it.

His knife is fast, and he lashed out with it, for Vander's hand -- wrist -- whatever -- It's meant to distract, and with a wary eye on the fist, a momentary flick, to watch for it, before he looks at what he really wants. It's not Vander's death, or dissipation. Not right now. There are greater plans in the works for that. No, what he wants --

He can see it. The flicker of shard and memory. He wants -- no, needs -- to take it.

His fingers reach out, almost of their own accord, to try and grasp for it. ]

[exhound]

[Vander had never wanted this. A familiar scene, playing out again and again like an endless echo. The two of them swinging and swiping at each other, further hammering in the point that these differences that had grown between them have become more and more irreconcilable. A compounding of anger every time they were driven to butt heads, creating a dense and unspeakable thing.

Even now, even after they had both taken each other’s life once before thanks to the quirk of their present circumstance, Vander still felt that old pang of guilt at seeing that hatred in Silco’s eyes and feeling a reflection of it burning within his own chest. He wishes there was another way. But Silco always had to go and make everything so. damn. hard.

It doesn’t help that he’s taking family and turning into something possessive to further fuel their feud. But Vander can be possessive too, and it’s that driving his charge forward, giving him the presence of mind to shift his footing to accommodate the swing of that knife. The blade goes tearing against his sleeve, the arc just barely wide of his hand—but Vander realizes the opportunity in that proximity, free hand darting out to attempt to seize Silco by the wrist instead. So focused on his own movement that he hardly registers Silco’s other hand darting out toward his chest until fingers brush against the mirror-like reflection his Shard has become in this place.

And then there’s the odd sensation of something being at the forefront of his mind and then… suddenly gone.]

[zauneyete]

[ Vander's hand almost on his wrist is almost... ignorable? Silco barely even noticed. Oh, well, he would, but more important was what his fingers held, when he gripped that shard of memory -- something so precious and important -- and ripped it out from that shard. He hoped it would hold -- things in these realms always seemed so transient -- but as soon as his fingers closed around the memories of Jinx, he felt something settle. Not the burning rage -- he hated Vander so fervently for what he'd done to him, hated him with a rage that had long exceeded the point of no return.

That was a decision Vander had to deal with, a betrayal that had sent Silco careening off the cliff toward somewhere in between hate and madness -- twisted him into something so spiteful and angry that he couldn't see anything else. It made him see red, and Silco had long accepted that his hate was something he could pay nearly any price to indulge. Only one person in any existence could have asked him to turn away, and he'd just swiped the memories of her.

Silco's fast, his blade twisted in his hand, to threaten the hand coming toward him, before he stepped back, his feet quick.

He didn't need to kill Vander right now. No, he had plans, didn't he? No murder today, isn't that a gift? He skittered out of range, his fingers clasped memory of Jinx in his hands -- young Jinx, before she'd found Silco, and there's a moment, brief and...

He stared at the memories in his hand for a long moment -- Vander could probably try and rush him if he wanted -- his thumb on the shard, almost as if he wondered if he could reach out and -- No, his daughter isn't here, and no railing against the world itself will fix this. No, the only answer is to burn it down, and his fingers crushed the memory in his fingers, to turn it to sand in his fist, she may be only memory, but she's also only his memory. Vander didn't deserve her, he thought. ]

[exhound]

[Whatever Silco did, it’s clearly thrown Vander off his groove. The same emotions propelling him forward are there, but they feel… unanchored. Like there is a purpose to them, but it’s somehow out of reach. There had been a reason they were fighting once more—as if they ever need a reason, these days—but trying to dig for it is like trying to summon a word that’s on the tip of his tongue, but just out of mind.

It’s distracting enough that it’s all he can do to yank his hand back from that next knife swipe, and it lets Silco put some distance between them just as quickly. Vander’s hand reaches up to his Shard, brows furrowing as he stares Silco down and tries to puzzle out exactly what it is he had taken from him.

He can almost, almost see what that little shard of crystal in Silco’s hand represents. Knows it’s important, knows he can’t let it stay in his grasp. So in that long moment Vander does rush forward, freehand making a grab for it—but it’s too late. It’s reduced to sand as quickly as his feet can move him, an odd feeling of finality in it that hangs heavy in his chest at the sight of it. Vander still tries to make a grab for Silco, wherever he can—but there’s no swing of his other fist. Not yet.

There’s anger in his expression, but his voice mainly carries disbelief.]

What have you done?

[zauneyete]

[ Silco's eyes flicked to Vander, even as those too-precious memories of Jinx were crushed in his fist, and his lips peeled back in annoyance when Vander tried to reach for him. 'How dare he?' was clear in his expression, and he sneered, stepping out of the way with quick, silent feet. He should run. It would be for the best, and then he could get away and slip into the cover of nothingness so quickly that Vander wouldn't know what happened to him.

He should ignore him, and just do that.

But Silco was... never going to try to get in the last word, or rub salt in a wound. ]

Oh, you don't remember? [ He asked, his hand over his mouth, like there was a joke to be made. He's trying to move, trying to escape or at least get near the door. Try, of course, is the key word. Even so, when he tried to form words, there was something... indiscernible there. A touch mad, perhaps even desperate. Taking memories of Jinx won't bring her back, the sinister reminder at the back of his mind is quick to point out, but even so... ]

I took what is mine.

[ Lips peeled back into a snarl, he said it like it should be obvious. ]

[exhound]

[All of his ire is very swiftly being replaced with a low thrum of panic. He can’t remember. Can’t remember what? He doesn’t know, but he knows it’s important, knows it by the smug and sneering response of Silco, knows it by how willing he is to drag out this moment to taunt him with it.

And, perhaps more importantly, he knows that there is nothing to be done about it. Crushed to grains of sand and scattered without fanfare.

Vander of course tries to give chase. He can’t let this go, but Silco does has a swiftness on his side that’s further accentuated by the injury he’d dealt Vander here at the start, wearing down on him. He follows, does try for a swing this time, but it goes wide and he has to catch himself on the edge of the table they’d been dancing around. The doorway is there just behind him, and Vander knows that he’s screwed up by letting him get this far.]

You damn, selfish fool.

[zauneyete]

[ Silco's fast, and his heart is pounding, and he knows he should be focused on escaping, on getting out of here before Vander reaches out with his hands and catches him. He can't get close to the man, not without being dissipated, and it's not worth it, when he'd already taken his memories of Jinx -- not something he'd intended, but...

But Silco had reached out to take them anyway. As soon as he'd seen them, he'd known, but it will all be for nothing, if he doesn't get out with his prize of stolen memories, and where he can get to safety.

But he also cannot help but sneer at Vander, another two steps back toward the door. He stared at him, for a long moment, a narrowing of a single eye. ]

You know so little.

[ He won't explain it. Not to him. He doesn't deserve that.

Silco took one step back, and then another, before he was far enough that he vanish from sight, slinking off into the shadows. ]