middaeg | Vita agitas maledictus

Who: Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower (

whomthebelltolls) and various! (Check prompt headers for openness of prompts)
When: Aureur, particularly around the event!
Where: Aefenglom, and the Dreamscape
What: Memshare stuff, mostly, but can be used as a catch-all for quests and the like.
Warnings: Oh boy Blood, gore, excessive violence, murder, human experimentation, body horror, cannibalism, addictive substance use and abuse, genocide, suicide (both ideation and comitting), self-harm, PTSD, religious institutions grooming people to use their blood and bodies for shady purposes, also probably some mentions of human trafficking, sexual assault/abuse in other peoples' backstories or memories. And the kitchen sink.

[1: SEMI-OPEN Memshare prompt - For people that had plans]

[What a curious little dream. The Hall of Mirrors, but some of them are indistinguishable - even if she knows, in reality, that many of the ones she's staring at bear some kind of decor upon them, especially her own - and yet here they stand.

She hears footsteps behind her, and cants her head briefly in the direction they come from. A familiar face, then, as she continues to investigate the mirror.] I wonder what it means this time? [And she pushes her hand against the surface of the mirror, immediately withdrawing it after as the surface ripples as it starts to suck her hand into it, like she's just put her hand into a pool of quicksilver.

She shakes her hand a bit, looking at it - no, it's... fine, then turns to her companion as though she's not quite sure she's seeing things properly.

It doesn't matter whose mirror it is - whether her own, or another - because the curiosity takes her and she motions toward it like she wonders if they should try... stepping through the surface. Maybe this is their chance to get home? After all, they fell out of the mirrors, maybe going back in them is the way back home?

It doesn't matter if it's her mirror or theirs, she is sort of curious, and wants to investigate. What in the world is the dream doing this time?]

[2: OPEN - In the dream]

[Clang. Maria's Rakuyo separates into its two sides as she pulls it apart, and sets up before her mirror. Those that know her well will probably note that, unlike before, the whole thing is coated in a fine layer of blood... and it's leaking yet even more. Still, she stands, her back to the mirror, her front to whoever wants to approach.

Her face is drawn into a dark scowl, and her ice-blue eyes rake over the other inhabitants of this dream with a deadly intensity. Too many people, too much curiosity - and none are permitted anywhere near her mirror any longer. The first person that approaches she appraises only briefly, before stepping forward as though to attack. And she will, if they take even another pace toward her.] Stand down. There is nothing for you in this mirror.

[3: OPEN - The Morning After, around Aefenglom]

[Maria awakens to tears on her face, and an awful, empty ache in her chest. In a daze, she stands, ad goes about her morning routine, mind still trying to parse all she had seen. All that had been seen. It's not until she sees herself in a mirror - a regular dressing mirror near the wardrobe in her room - that she finally stops to look at herself, even if it brings up memories anew.

Maria raises a single hand to the fresh tears that spill down her face, gently catching one on the back of a finger. She holds it up, looks at it, marvels a bit at the idea. It has been... so very long since she's wept, and yet, the tears continue to flow, seemingly without end. The Fishing Hamlet - she's not seen it with such terrible clarity in so long. Not heard the voices that curse and scream at her with such acuity since...

... Since before she claimed her own life.

She wipes at her eyes, notes they're red-rimmed and sunken in her reflection. She hasn't slept well. She supposes she won't sleep very well again for a long, long time, then turns back at a thought. A single, stray thought that brings her eyes to rest upon the Rakuyo and Evelyn that even now seem to sleep comfortably in their places beside her bed.

It would be so simple... she steps forward, and before she knows it, she has the sword in her hands, and is raising it up. The bite of cold, sharp metal against the side of her neck is as familiar as it is dreadful; she vaguely remembers how it felt when it severed through the muscle and tendons, what it felt like when the blood rushed out and her mind went woozy and darkness closed in rapidly at the corners of her vision. She doesn't move her hands, though.

What would be the point? She'd just wake up again. And again. Her curse is to live with what she had done, perhaps forever. She wonders if this is how Annalise feels, fated to never find rest, no matter how the journey of life wears on. It's fitting, the greatest among the Vilebloods would end up having to share that same, sorry fate.

The sword drops with a clatter, Maria turns back, unsure when she even got dressed, but knowing she needs to leave. Her bed suddenly has too many poor memories associated with it - a pity, considering how recently some good ones were made there - and she hits the town.

Right to a tavern.

Right to the alcohol.

She surrounds herself with several bottles, and she drinks. It's gotten harder and harder to lose her mind into the sway of the alcohol since her blood started to burn with a fire so similar and yet so not to the burn of the Vileblood corruption. Yet, still she tries.

Bottle in one hand, the other covering her eyes, she drinks, and that's how she'll be found the entire rest of the day, in a sorry state, trying so hard to forget.]

[4: Wildcard!]

[For all your Not-Memshare Needs! Maria is doing Pile's Plantagorium, Hold Birb Gently, and Dorchacht Devil for quests.

Anyone who wants to get in on the first prompt there, you can message me through PM, at Reslari at Reslari#9561 on Discord, or hit up my plotting post. You can also plot with me for anything else!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Interesting. [That's... well, okay, she's still thinking it over. She looks the armory up and down one more time, remembering all the familiar facades and nooks and crannies.] Yes. Before the Blood, they were simply a new thing that made combat easier, and quite the fad - especially as they could still be used on horseback, so long as you could train the horses sufficiently not to spook at the noise. Afterward... well, infusing small quicksilver bullets with Blood is far less taxing, than... say, this...

[She walks over to the rack where one of the knights left their sword - a long, katana-like thing in a sheath. Near the draw point of the sheath, there's a long streak of blood, stained with both a fresh, bright red coat, and an older, faded brownish streak beneath, as though it has been bled upon many times.] These are what they call 'Chikage'. If you wish to bolster their power, you slice it along your palm until blood runs through the ripple-patterns along the side of the blade. It makes the weapon very powerful, but it requires a consistent supply of blood to use. That's less convenient than simply putting a drop or two into a single bullet, and letting loose from afar.

[ His eyebrows lift a little as Maria speaks, and then just keep climbing higher. Percy's seen weapons that feed on all sorts of things before, but the users' own blood seems like a rather short-sighted prospect. No wonder they'd moved on to something a little less costly. ]

To say the least. Only so long before you'd topple over yourself, at that rate. [ Said with the firm knowledge of someone who's experienced blood loss before and did not particularly enjoy it. ] It's all magic, then? With the blood.

[ She's mentioned it a bit, when they'd been discussing Percy's attempts to recreate her bullets, but he'll be the first to admit he doesn't entirely understand. Fascinated, yes. But very confused and very unsure if it was something to bring up to a woman who has never seemed particularly interested in explaining. Now seems like as good a time as any. ]

Mmm... I wouldn't really call it magic, as they understand it in Aefenglom. It's... a condition of our blood.

['Our' blood, but Maria hasn't been able to call upon her Vileblood abilities since she arrived in Aefenglom. So really, is she even a Vileblood anymore? Admittedly, most of that came from an exterior source, but...]

Some can utilize the Chikage with little issue, some need to constantly replenish via blood vials. It depends on a few factors. Some gain more power from the covenant than others, and it's little to do with talent or how much you work at it.

I see.

[ He doesn't, entirely, but he thinks he might be getting there. Something about Maria and her people that allows them to use these sorts of things more efficiently. It certainly explains how they've made such an industry of it, and Percy eyes keep darting back towards the the works being created when he's not paying attention. ]

It must be very strange for you then, in Aefenglom. Not to have it.

Strange, yes. But not bad. [She looks around the castle, here, the small armory. The way it looks, the way it smells, the way it sounds - it's all very nostalgic, but it's not entirely a positive association.]

... I never much liked the place I grew up in. Nor the people I grew up surrounded by. I was happy to leave it, when I did.

No?

[ Percy follows her gaze around for a second, as if trying to see what she sees. Though Percy knows full well that there can be all sorts of reasons to resent an old home. He inclines his head, a sort of wordless promise that he won't pry. ]

We can leave, if you like.

[ No doubt he's intruded a great deal more than Maria would like. ]

I don't think there's much left of this, unless you want to watch me sharpen the Rakuyo after I was done repairing my gun.

[Her sword, the Rakuyo. Otherwise, it's more gawking at weapons and armaments.] To that same end, I don't think it is going to get into any further personal details, so I'm in no rush.

[If he has questions or things, she can answer them. If he wants to look, he can, if nothing else, the damage is done - they can leave.]

If you don't mind, then.

[ He glances towards her briefly as if waiting for something, then moves to get a closer look at the various workspaces. Percy moves carefully around the memories, just observing silently before he moves on to the next thing. He can't recall the last time he was in a space that was so familiar and so alien at the same time, and it makes him linger for just a moment more before he returns to Maria's side. ]

You kept all of it.

[ The weapons, he means. It would have been so easy to reject it all, if she'd been that unhappy. ]

When I left Cainhurst, I was going to a place that could use someone with combat training. I volunteered to study hunting under a man named Gehrman... and you need weapons to do that, of course. The Rakuyo is not a blood blade like the Chikage swords you see here. It requires a great amount of dexterity and skill rather than relying on the strength of blood. I had it crafted in such a way, because I didn't care for the Chikage, nor its reliance on one's blood for its power. The Evelyn was simply too useful against Beasts and the creatures in the catacombs alike not to bring with me.

[That says very little about... what happened later, though. She did give up her weapons, but not for reasons related to Cainhurst. She threw them down a well, even. But that's an unpleasant memory she would rather not dwell on; nor the curiosity of how she got it all back in the Nightmare.]

Furthermore, it's not as though Yharnam is a particularly safe place at the best of times. Against a foreigner, the hostility was even more pronounced. The citizens were a bit more accepting of people who carried weapons and looked like they knew how to use them.

[ Practicality, then, more than anything else. That seems to spark true with what he knows of Maria, and Percy simply nods once. ]

I think you've put up with my curiosity well enough. [ One side of his mouth tips up just a little. ] I appreciate it. But I'm ready to leave, if you are.

[ He knows more than enough about badly complicated memories to leave her in it for any longer than they have to. ]

Vita agitas maledictus

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