Entry tags:
- * event,
- dbh: connor,
- dragon age: solas,
- dresden files: harry dresden,
- dresden files: justine,
- elfen lied: kaede,
- fallout: the lone wanderer,
- fe: soren,
- ffvii: cloud strife,
- ffxiv: aymeric de borel,
- ffxiv: francel de haillenarte,
- fgo: cu chulainn,
- fha: caren ortensia,
- homestuck: dave strider,
- original: iramaat,
- star wars: qi'ra,
- steven universe: steven universe,
- the arcana: asra alnazar,
- undertale: papyrus,
- yakuza 0: majima goro
event pt 2 | another dream

THE STARS ABOVE
and you know one thing, and one thing alone: this is a dream, and an incredibly realistic one at that. It is so very cold, and it is so very vast. Millions of stars stretch out across the still wasteland, the water unforgivably frigid to even those covered in fur; for those without, there's still a chill that expands in your chest as you turn and find absolutely nothing in the massive, shimmering lake. As you begin to walk, shapes shake out of the water; the ground rumbles with their rising, the outlines and shambles of buildings covered in stains and thorny plants. As more rise, inscrutable in their original purpose or shape, you begin to realize this is - or was - a city. You realize something else: you're not alone. Not the way you weren't alone in dreams before, with those who came through the mirror or who might later come through - but around you are the natives of Aefenglom itself, dressed thin rags and looking exceptionally confused. Almost immediately, the sky fills with red stars, and the voice of Nerissa Bell rings throughout the empty space: "Will all members of Parliament, the Guilds, those who have mastered and are mastering divination, and my Mhairi dearest please come to where the red stars fall? Thank the lot of you very much!" There's a beat, and she continues. "Everyone else, keep your wits about you, won't you? Take care of each other." She sounds a tad bit more serious than usual - and it's no wonder, given the circumstances. There's not much else to do though, and with this dream shared among all residents of the city... You might as well take a look around and see if there's anything to be found out, just like any other time. But be careful: Magic seems to be on the fritz, more liable to backfire regardless of one's experience with it - and the same goes for more magical traits of Monsters as well, such as water manipulation, illusions and charms, finding magic, dragon breaths, and etc. |
I. THE CITY
Because while it may take some exploration for arrivals to realize where they are, many natives know right away what this place is with a grief that's palpable:
Perhaps now it's easier to understand what those inscrutable structures were, at the edges of the recognizable shapes of what had been buildings, once upon a time - after all, even those that are freshly minted as arrivals this Iuneril have spent enough time within the Bright Wall to surely be able to know this gate was once here, and that portion of the wall wrapped around the city there. What remains of the Wall is charred, broken, stained in an oil-like substance that still glistens at just the right angle, and overgrown in those thorny vines to the point that some sections must have been destroyed because the growth came from within. The track of the magitech engine that runs the city is uprooted, gnarled in places as if it were bent by large hands or crushed underfoot, the bridge and the engine itself collapsed into the canal of the River Temese. Even from the higher banks it's easy to tell the metal is rusted and corroded, but also charred like there was an explosion or fire; the inky murk of the river consumes the rest, and it's not recommended to try and brave the waters, given the unsettling feeling they give off. It's not unlike the sensation of the cave... Homes and businesses are destroyed, or in ruin, and it becomes clear that they met this fate in different ways. Burnt down, collapsing in upon themselves from the weight of neglect, overtaken by the thorny vines, covered in the inky black of what is fast becoming obvious as signs of the Cwyld... even the Haven has suffered these conditions. The barracks, once flush against the Wall, are completely destroyed and exist only as rubble now. One might find traces of themselves in what had become their homes in Aefenglom, if they look close enough. The natives certainly are, in their upset and confusion.
No walls remain around where the Coven once stood, and there's barely any rubble to indicate that they did. The gate that always stands open, as you know it, is nowhere to be seen - at least, initially. A glance around the entrance will show that it was likely blown off its hinges; it's embedded in the earth a dozen yards away into the city proper, gnarled, a monument in and of itself. Stepping into the scorched courtyard shows that the blast came from within the grounds itself, though it's hard to tell what the source might have been. The building itself is more or less completely caved in; the infirmary is in particularly bad shape, with the stairs leading to the ICU - the basement below the infirmary, where those heavily infected with the Cwyld are taken care of - are full of debris. The floor of the infirmary itself is largely collapsed into the floor below, blocking all means of access. None of the runes that are typically visible in the halls, across the ceiling, or along the floors are activated, and there's a distinct lack of the warm and homey magic that would always welcome one into the Coven. In its place is an oppressive stillness, smears of the Cwyld visible across the ruins, spilling out across the yard from the building itself. A garden once sprawling with ingredients and food is dead, and the stables and livestock pens lie in wreckage. There are no signs of the animals that many became familiar with. But amongst all the wreckage, the Looking-Glass House stands. The cabin is a little charred on the outside, wrapped in layers upon layers of the thorny vines that have woven their way through the city itself, but still intact. Getting inside is a challenge in and of itself, but not impossible, if one manages to avoid the thorns of a clearly infected plant. But the interior? Dusty, certainly, but not an ounce of damage. Mirrors are propped up against surfaces as always, hanging on the walls, and the building feels endless as always. Some of the mirrors are shattered as if something struck them, but not a single piece of glass touches the floor. The stillness is just as unnatural as that of the city itself, but different. While still eerie, there isn't a sense of dread, of oppressiveness, of being watched. It simply... is. c. BURNED AWAY TO ASH
Wood and stone are charred, to the point that it becomes clear with enough investigation that fire was the sole cause of its demise. The smell of smoke still lingers, with both ground and air around the wreckage feeling hot compared to the chill of the world around you, a fire still burning within the Parliamentary Records themselves. And if one moves the rubble enough - though care should be taken, as it's precarious, and further collapse is inevitable rather than preventable - smoke rises from cracks and openings. Even the clocktower wasn't spared, the broken face now in further wreckage, burnt with its metalwork hands locked to 3:00. The bell is nowhere to be seen; if it fell, it fell through the building and into the records beneath, lost to a fire that's still burning unseen beneath your feet. But if one listens closely, maybe they can still hear its ringing... Forms pass through out of the corner of one's eye, there and gone when you turn to look too closely at them. Humans and Monsters alike in shape, but faceless, sometimes wisps of color, sometimes shadows in the shape of people. Regardless, they can be seen disappearing around the corner of an alley, walking by the broken window of a storefront that's been ransacked, coming and going when you least expect them. A whisper of a ghost. Some of these faceless shadows seem to be caught in the motions, reliving their day-to-day, the ones that they took the most. Others fade in and out of strange actions; fighting unseen foes, throwing equally unseen things at buildings just as much as what must have been people, running and running through the streets - and then, eventually, through you. Passing through these specters, these shadows of people, leaves a clammy chill on your skin that permeates to the bone. And then they're gone, and it's silent again. |
II. THE WASTE
Eventually, something changes - whether due to your continued march ahead, or due to turning around to head back towards the city.
One good thing about this heavensbound stairway is this: it offers a good view of the waste, which seems to expand forever, as well as the blood red twilight peeking over the horizon - not to mention the distinct absence of the sister moons that share the sky. With a keen eye (or simply letting your vision adjust) shows shadows lifelessly milling about the waste and its air; they're harmless, but bring with them soft crying and pained whimpers, limping with obviously broken limbs. Those familiar with the Wilders and the Witches of the Coven will notice the one solid-seeming thing about them: the pins for their cloaks, the Coven's symbol barely being able to be made out. It'd seem the only way to get down is to fall, as the stairs simply continue up and up into the sky until one is completely unable to breathe or move, either due to gravity or due to ice coverage. b. THE LABYRINTH
To put it lightly, it isn't a very happy place. The center of the labyrinth is completely dark, no sconces in the area lit - none with torches in them either, on closer inspection. No treasure is left to find here, though the source of the labyrinth's water is: a spring formed by a massive fissure in the ground, ever bubbling, so loud it's a wonder you hadn't heard it anywhere else in the stone maze. The culprit of it lay nearby, long dead: a Minotaur, or its massive skeleton, at the very least. Some of its bones are blackened, specifically its arms up to its elbows, legs up a little past its knees, and its right eye socket. The rest are a mix of normal yellowed and similarly infected grey, black-spotted bones. Touching the bones starts an infection on the character that did it, though it only covers the same spots found on the Minotaur's skeleton. |
III. THE DEPTHS
Succumbing to that call has characters stepping off what remains of the harbor, walking along the beach, even jumping down, just to reach the water. But rather than sink immediately into it there's firm footing on what seems like ice, the chill seeping through raggedy clothes, skin, fur, feather, down to the very bone. It's sturdy enough to allow even the largest Monster to begin the journey forward into the depths, angled deeper and deeper, until it suddenly drops off and you're submerged without a foothold. It's there that clarity returns, and the fear of drowning might fill every sense. But you can breathe. You can speak. It is a dream, after all.
Buildings that have fallen into the harbor's waters, the remains of docks, various dinghies and boats, all sunken and lost to the world above. A few ships are visible, their hulls blown out as if attacked, both from the inside and out. There's no treasure, if you're brave enough to explore them, but there is the black oil caked to the interiors just as much as the exteriors. The wood is charred, and it's easy to tell that these ships were sunk from within just as much as they were from outside attacks. But the further one goes into the depths, the truth is revealed: beyond, there lies a ship graveyard. With Litha in full swing, many of these ships may be familiar, having set off on their voyages for the season. Here they lie, in similar states of destruction as the ones in the harbor. Exploring them answers few questions, and raises greater mysteries; what had been supplies, weapons, magic tools and wares, all loaded into their cargo bays, as if they were setting off on a great journey. And it isn't just a graveyard for ships, either. Many of them have passengers, unidentifiable save for small trinkets here and there. The Coven's insignia, a badge of the Parliament, possessions that might speak of their professions. They're nothing but skeletons, now, man and beast alike loaded onto the ships and heading for a destination that's lost to them now. Ice forms along the hulls of some ships and the wreckage beneath, pathways woven throughout the underwater world. They're walkable, allowing characters a choice between swimming, dreamily floating, or walking as they traverse the depths.
An explanation, perhaps, for their numbers comes as the red of the distant sky above is blocked out by a great shape. A veritable Leviathan drifts with an almost laziness through the open waters of the ocean that you've reached, greater in size than any ship in the graveyard. Its hide is marred from fights long since forgotten, but mottled in oily black, smudged grey, its algae, coral, white cracks in the black illuminating the waters around it. Its plated head moves to and fro, massive flippers disrupting the patterns of the creatures around it without notice. |
Welcome to the second part of the event! As a reminder, this takes place on the 22nd - or rather, 3AM on the 23rd if we're being technical and not following the logic of "It's not tomorrow until I sleep". If you have any questions or need any clarifications, you can ask them here! And as always, while we do encourage you to use this log, you can feel free to thread things out on your own log or elsewhere. Regardless of what you choose, we hope you have a good time!
And as a final parting note: If a character dies in the dream, they'll simply reappear at the beginning rather than waking up like normal.
And as a final parting note: If a character dies in the dream, they'll simply reappear at the beginning rather than waking up like normal.
no subject
Her frustration isn't lost on him, and he offers a polite, slight inclination of his torso in a bow.]
As long as you'll consider your options, I'm willing to table this for a while. We can discuss it further later.
[He straightens.]
I've taken risks in my life you have no idea of, Caren, and I assure you I'm not a weak person. Even if, by some misguided notion, you think that I'm soft because I have a diplomatic approach to things, understand that where the intelligence comes from, a myriad of other things follow. You may have suspected that strength before, and I have no interest in proving it in any way but a practical one.
Consider my offer carefully, and with an abundance of regard for yourself and your future. That's all I ask. And when you make your decision, I'll listen. I'm not walking away from you or discarding you over any of this. Continue to call me foolish, if you must.
no subject
I'm not hesitating due to softness or weakness on your part Ignis. If you were either, you wouldn't have been able to keep up with me, much less outmaneuver me so easily.
[It's praise, even if it sounds barbed. Not sounds, is barbed. And arrogant. But he can handle it easily she thinks.]
But Bonding isn't a decision I want to rush into. Not for either of us. So-once we wake up, I'll come and find you, and tell you my decision.
Should I decide in your favor-we'll have to think of vows.
[He's foolish. But so is she.]
no subject
[He smiles. He's such a politician, at his core. It's not that he wants to keep playing this with Caren, but if she'll listen to him when he's being utterly logical, it's a good sign. There's very little emotion in play for him, at this point. It's all about putting a plan in motion.]
But I will keep that in mind. I don't want you to rush into this, nor do I want to rush into it, myself. I'm simply finding practical solutions to problems. If not with me, I'd still encourage you to find someone who suits the task.
[Though maybe... he does find her arrogance somehow appealing. He'd hate to see her weak or unsettled. That's just selfish on his part, he knows, but it's the truth. Her strength is a charming asset indeed. So is her wit, her flexibility.]
I think I've worn out my welcome with you, though. I'll leave you to ponder the river further. Try not to be too bored. I think there were a few things worth looking into, here and there.
no subject
[She smiles back, a small thing, but it's there. Ignis had the emotional retreat, but Caren? She had been playing this with her heart, going back and forth. She's not surprised that he needs a break. She needs one too, just to think of how her life is turning out. It's turning into something all right.
She never thought she'd even consider Bonding with someone, let alone have someone offer once they knew how she was like.
Well. He didn't really know. But he would.]
But truly-I will consider this, and I will take this seriously. Including possible others for this task.
[She sighs. And despite everything, she still leans up to give him a quick kiss over his heart. She's too short to try for anything else.]
Don't try to take all the world onto yourself. Even if you have strong shoulders, I might get jealous, knowing that your thoughts are elsewhere.
[Is she teasing him? A bit. She'll find something, one way or another, even with this hard decision on her mind.]
no subject
[He smiles softly at her, and can't help putting his arms around her for a brief embrace after she kisses his chest. This is a messy place, and there are messy people. But he'll persevere, and so will she.
Even when they wake up, he won't think his offer anything but logical. She's a fine woman, fascinating and intelligent and unique, and he'd like to see her flourish. If that means having help with her demons, or being kept forcibly in check, he'll gladly see her through, at least until she finds someone better. He certainly doesn't think he's the only person for the job.]
Jealous? I can't say anyone's ever been jealous over me before. [He kisses her forehead very lightly, just a brush of lips.] Don't take the whole world on yourself, either. For better or for worse. You don't have to be alone in any of this.
no subject
[She believes him; he's the type that's happier doing something, if only out of force of habit. She can understand that. She can be much of the same way-driven by purpose. It's easier to keep things at bay, when one was focused.
Which is why she's not sure Ignis will be able to hold her leash, especially when it comes to choking her. He's careful, meticulous, logical, intelligent-things that she admires about him. But...who knows? They may find someone else for the position- someone who can stop her from being a complete bully.]
I'm sure you've had plenty of people envious of your cooking skill at least.
[The forehead kiss was sweet. Unexpected. It made her heart hurt for some reason, an ache she found somehow familiar.]
We'll see.
[Her words were a murmur, meant more for herself then for him. But she gave him a light push, careful only to use the tips of her fingers. Just in case.]
Now shoo. You need some time to yourself before you wake up. Go think of things that make you happy.
no subject
Still, they'll just have to wait and see.]
I only cooked for a handful of others, before I was brought here. You've been a rare accomplice, and I look forward to more of that, no matter what comes of my proposition.
[He's pushed away lightly, and goes back dreamily with the nudge, arms falling back to his sides.]
I have a bit of thinking to do, it's true. Maybe I'll console myself, or maybe I'll wallow. We'll have to wait and see. Good night, Caren. Take care of yourself.
no subject
They'll have to see.]
If nothing else, we'll always have cooking. Bonding or not-I do want to cook more with you.
[Though she does make a rude noise. Him saying 'wallow' with his accent...it sounds so unlikely.]
Good night Ignis. Take care of yourself too. You're worth it.