Septeril Quest and Catch-All Log [OPEN]

[curruid_coinchenn]

Who: Berserker (Cú Chulainn Alter) and you!
When: Throughout Septeril
Where: Various places
What: Quests and event threads and other things
Warnings: None so far but check the thread headers for specific warnings


[ 1. An Apple A Day (Wilde Quest #3) ]

[ It's difficult to disturb someone who's been plagued by nightmares for most of their life. Memories of bloody battlefields, mountains of corpses, a wall built from the bones of his enemies...What the moths are showing him in an attempt to get him to go away is nothing his own mind hasn't shown him before. Even the bloodied dead bodies of his bonded aren't enough to disturb him.

It seems that whoever he's working alongside to eliminate the moths isn't as lucky, though. Berserker gives them an indifferent look. ]

Get a hold of yourself...Do you always give in so easily? If you do, you might have a worse problem here soon.

[ Because how do you deal with nightmarish illusions? You fight them with ones of your own -- in this case, his poison breath. ]

[ 2. Wildcard ]

[ Got an idea? Did we plot something out? Drop me a starter or PM me here/on discord glitzkrieg#0673! ]

Comments

for Alex

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Something had felt off with Alex recently at work. She was less friendly with him, more inclined to brush him off or outright ignore him. None of this particularly bothered him, but it was certainly outside of the norm for her. This normally wouldn't concern him, either -- his fledgling empathy changed that, too.

So he packs up some extra baked goods Diarmuid made and heads over to her house. An unannounced visit when she's likely in a bad mood probably isn't the best idea, but Berserker isn't well known for his good ideas. He knocks on the door and waits. ]

i come crawling back in shame

[sing_for_me]

[ Alex had never felt this way before. The smallest things would make her prickle, anything that would take her focus away from not completely losing it being a threat. She regrets it after, if she notices how she has been with someone, but nowadays she could barely spare a thought to anyone else. It wasn't as if she had gone without a bond before, but it was so much easier to get lost in her instincts the first time. This was like running on empty, but having an extra battery pack in the shape of a bomb.

The exhaustion is catching up to her, her hands shaking as she puts down something as light as a laundry basket onto the grass. The urge to stay beneath the water grew stronger each day, and all the more the urge to never surface again. Maybe that would be best...Because as much as she wanted to be around people, it wasn't safe. The guilt weighing down on her was a whole other story.

She turns to grab the laundry clips, but ends up kicking the basket and sending some of the freshly washed sheets out onto the grass. A part of her is almost too dead to care, but the rage building up starts to spill out as she lets out a frustrated yell. Loud enough to be heard from the front of the house.

Crouched over with her face buried in her hands, she sighs heavily, more of a growl coming out from her throat. ]

God, I just wanted clean sheets...

no shame here, only tags

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Oh. Well, that answers his question as to where she is. His inkling about her wellbeing wasn't unfounded, apparently. Berserker makes his way towards the back and hazards a peek over the fence. ]

There you are...Do you need a break?

[ He fully expects her to yell at him for saying anything. ]

[sing_for_me]

[ You think?

Is the first thought that cuts through her mind, just barely biting back the comment.

She recognizes the voice, even without looking up at him. ]

I'm fine.

[ Her answer is curt, rushed as she quickly shoves the sheets back into the basket. Picking herself and the basket back up to wash it again, she stops half a step forward, hesitating. ]

Did you need something?

[ Still not eye contact as she asks, purposely keeping her gaze low. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ She's not fine. This feels like a minefield he's wading into and he has none of the finesse necessary to navigate it.

So he handles it the only way he knows how: rushing headfirst into danger. ]

Need? No, but I did bring you something...Fresh bread and a few pastries.

[ At least he doesn't say why he's bringing them -- that might be his only saving grace right now. ]

[sing_for_me]

[ 'Fresh bread' and 'pastries' make her ears perk up, but she resists. The gesture makes something inside her twist, not feeling it was something she deserved at the moment. He didn't deserve the attitude, but he always seemed to catch her at her worst. ]

You didn't have to.

[ She walks briskly towards the large basin and away from Berserker, not wasting any time in dropping the sheets back inside and crouching down to wash them again, back still turned to him. ]

for Diarmuid

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ There had been something weighing on Berserker's conscience for awhile now, something he was hesitant to bring up. A certain vampire confessed a certain something to him and he couldn't deny he felt the same way. Knowing Diarmuid's history, there was a reason he didn't say something sooner.

He had a feeling this was going to be messy and rightfully so. Avoiding it for any longer would only make it worse -- he owed the witch honesty, didn't he? It still fills him with a sense of dread and unease, something he tries very hard to hide over their bond as he approaches Diarmuid. ]

There's something I need to tell you... [ Don't leave it there and make him think worse things. ] Trevor...told me that he loved me while he was drunk and heartbroken. I spoke with him about it later and he still felt the same way.

[ Laying it out like that is A Lot and it does nothing to ease his own worries; it made it worse somehow, like it fueled the discomfort brewing inside him. ]

[ua_duibhne]

[It's unusual to see the knight reading so intently. Even as one of the more restrained celtic Heroic Spirits, he's cursed with the restlessness that comes with a lifetime of fighting and seeking out danger. A glance at its pages reveals that he's studying music of all things.

Perhaps that's why he hardly notices Berserker's approach, or the hum of anxiety in their bond he's trying so hard to hide. As his shadow falls across him, he even lifts his head to greet him with a smile. It doesn't last.

There's something I need to tell you.

As he speaks, the smile seems to drain, fading until only the last, fragile pieces of it remain in a confused no-man's land. He's not sure what to say. Trevor told him he loved him. By all accounts, Diarmuid should be happy for him: Berserker should be loved. He deserves the happiness and the intimacy and warmth of it, no matter who or how many people it's with.

And yet. And yet. A disloyal part of him is afraid- of how complicated things become when a third heart gets involved. How quickly it can fall apart. More than that-

Calmly, gently, he answers.]

... I see. Do you feel the same? Please, be honest.

[He wants to look away. Down at his book, at the floor, at his hands- anywhere but Berserker's face because he's afraid not only of what he'll see there but of what his lover will see in his own. But he doesn't. For once, his poker face holds steady as he meets his eyes and, deceptive as it feels, he's even managing to muffle what passes through their bond.]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ For once in his life, Berserker wants to look away, too. Life was so much easier when he felt nothing. Emotions only made everything exponentially more complicated. When apathy was all he knew, nothing mattered; it didn't matter who he hurt or how because he felt so little. Now...Watching Diarmuid's smile fade away stung -- it felt like he swallowed a hornet's nest.

He manages to suppress what he's feeling, but his tail betrays him. The tip of it flicks and twitches in agitation as Berserker stays silent. Speaking the truth was another task made so much easier by a lack of emotions. He hesitates now, if only because he doesn't want to cause his lover anymore pain. ]

Yes...Something like it, anyway. It's...different than what I feel for you, but I can't say it's not similar.

[ua_duibhne]

[It's the hesitation that does it. Diarmuid is the first to break eye contact, head jerking to the side in a poor attempt at hiding his reaction.]

I'm glad you told me.



[It... it stings. Maybe in some self-indulgent, pathetic way being loved by him had made him feel special and wanted in a way uncorrupted by his curse or dishonesty. He had broken through that impassive shell and watched something else emerge and somehow been deemed worthy of any of it in the first place. It's a beautiful fantasy to be someone's only love but that's all it is. Fantasy. When you take Cú Chulainn as a partner, you can't expect monogamy and he never has. No, more than anything, he can't stop thinking about his place in all of this. And Fionn. Gods, he can't stop thinking about it and-

Enough. All he wants is for Berserker to be happy but right now his own insecurities are doing the opposite of that. That it hurts at all is something he should feel ashamed of and, quietly, Diarmuid hates himself for being so weak of heart.]

I'm happy for you. [Finally, he manages to look up again, even producing a sincere smile. Nothing of what he's saying is untrue, after all.] Neither of us could have imagined such a thing when you first arrived but you've come so far. I don't want you to have to hide it.

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Of all the responses he expected, sincere acceptance wasn't one of them. It struck him into almost stunned silence. Berserker steps closer and leans down, stroking Diarmuid's cheek with the backs of his fingers. He presses a tender kiss to his lips, letting it linger. ]

It wouldn't have been possible without you... [ He brushes that stubborn curl out of the witch's face with a faint smile. ] He knows how important you are to me and will never get between us...I would never let anyone threaten what we have.

[ He lets his forehead rest against Diarmuid's, taking comfort in the contact. ]

He has another, too, and I will always be secondary to him.

[ Nothing he says is untrue, either. He and Trevor know their priorities. ]

I'm...grateful for your understanding. I owe you more than I can ever repay you in a lifetime.

[ua_duibhne]

It doesn't matter. Your happiness is everything to me.

[The brush of his forehead against his breaks his resolve entirely. At once, everything he's been fighting so hard to hold back hits him and he's tearing up before he can stop himself. He'd been trying so hard to hide it through their bond but now Berserker will feel it in its agonizing entirety. Apprehension and hurt and self-doubt with a dizzying shot of guilt coursing through all of it. He's happy for Berserker, that much is true- there's just so much more to it and none of it feels good.

The knight crumples against him, burying his face in his shoulder to try and stem the flow of tears. It's humiliating.]

... I'm sorry. [His voice shakes in spite of his best efforts and he can feel his face burning in turn.] I really don't deserve it. I thought- I was worried-

[He swallows hard.]

To lose you would destroy me. Please forgive my weakness in doubting you.

1.

[grandspark]

[Rude had heard the warnings but this was just ridiculous. He was used to dealing with tough prey, even some that were poisonous or otherwise deadly in nature by single touch or spell, but it didn't usually quite work this way. On top of how insanely easy it was to be "poisoned" by the moths and suffer their nightmarish effects, he didn't have any gear or spells of his own to fight back with which irritated him further. Nor did it wear off very quickly.

Visions he saw were mild at first and because Rude suspected the cause he ignored them easily. But the longer he was out here and being exposed to the dust the worse the nightmares got. He could handle visions of old faces pleading to him for mercy--but it was harder to ignore the cries of help from his closer associates.

Especially Reno. His one fear--well, it didn't help that Reno was actually here in this world. Rude logically knew he had left his partner behind for this mission but the visions were so real--]

Huh?

[A brief break in the nightmare as he heard the other man say something to him. He peeled his eyes away from the current bloody vision and focused on the blue haired man instead. What was he talking about?

Rude's mouth thinned. No, he wasn't usually so easily disturbed. He'd seen plenty, done plenty of awful things. But the visions were so realistic...and he only had one fear for them to play against, which naturally they conveyed so readily to his mind while effected. He tried to focus on the blue haired man to keep his attention on something less horrific--even if his mind was trying to tell him the guy was a bloody threat. That he could handle with ease whether it was true or not.]

What are you talking about?

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ The nightmarish visions he's being shown are nothing his own mind hasn't decided to show him when he sleeps. Losing those he cares about in disturbing ways...And yet he seems so coldly indifferent to all of it. There's a job that has to be done and that's all there is to it. ]

I've got a way to dispatch these bastards quickly...But if you can't handle the effects of their defenses, you probably won't be able to deal with my solution.

[ Not that it matters to him -- he's going to do it, anyway. ]

My poison causes hallucinations like these...and intense panic.

[grandspark]

Great.

[That sounded wonderful. More hallucinogenic on top of hallucinogenic. Add in a sense of panic and this was going to be a ball.

Rude frowned slightly as a thought occurred to him.]

Is that even a good idea? Most creatures with such effects are immune to similar ones where I'm from. [It could be the same here for all he knew.] What if it doesn't work?

[curruid_coinchenn]

That's not my problem. I can kill them without it, too.

[ He's just going to do it anyway. The poison won't have any effect on him and the concentration may be strong enough to make it deadly to the irritating moths. ]

I'll ask again...Can you handle yourself?

[grandspark]

Then why not just kill them without?

[Grumpy? A bit. This was bad enough without his supposed ally making it worse.

He made a noncommittal noise and then turned away from Berserker.]

I can handle whatever I need to.

[curruid_coinchenn]

If I can do it faster, so much the better.

[ Rude's answer is good enough for him to continue with his own agenda. A bitter, acrid scent, not quite overwhelming but certainly unpleasant fills the air as a sticky, blackish substance drools from Berserker's mouth. As he breathes out, it turns into an even more unpleasant mist, a dark cloud that stretches out over the moths.

It certainly seems to have some effect as they scatter and panic, slamming into each other in their haste to flee. The unfortunate side effect is that they release more of their own powder into the air.

Oh well. ]

TDM for Alex; cw: violence, death

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Nightmares are nothing new for Berserker. Nightmares are the background radiation of his life. He suffers horrifying visions from his life on a nightly basis. The old ones mix with the new horrors he endured during his captivity. They're a fact of life.

He's not afraid. He has been warned that any injuries he sustains will transfer to his actual body and he doesn't care. It doesn't matter -- he will endure what he has to in order to finish his job. There is nothing he fears, not even the seemingly endless army he slaughters with his spear.

Arrows pierce him and he doesn't stop. Blades cut him and he does not stop. Continue forward, slaughter the enemy, survive. The dragon is a bloody mess (whose blood it is, it's hard to say), barely standing, yet he continues forward. His strikes are still efficient, cutting down everyone in his path. It's only when he reaches the woman leading the endless army that he stops.

Her petite body and youthful face are betrayed by the cruel, merciless expression. Her eyes are as cold as ice as they fall upon Berserker. Queen Medb, the woman to blame for his twisted existence, is the center of his nightmare. She doesn't back down from the challenge issued by the dragon. Her smile twists to something quite cruel as she walks forward and puts her hand on his bloody chest.

Berserker doesn't see it coming. She pulls a dagger out and stabs him in the chest several times, violently. His face remains unmoved. Even as a nightmare, Medb knows he's hard to kill. Each strike is carefully directed to ensure they add up to be fatal.

"I told you I always get what I want..."

He roars, an anguished and enraged cry, as he drives Gae Bolg through her. Just as her strikes are fatal, so is his. The nightmare falls apart around him as the nightmare version of Medb dies and he crumbles. A dark marble falls to the ground. He scrambles to grab it, like his life depends on it. This was what they needed...

Was it worth it?

He doesn't have long left. Dying on the ground like this is pathetic...He forces himself to his feet, using his spear to support himself. How appropriate to die alone like this...Ever lonely, the one-man war. ]

...You don't control me anymore...You never will again...

[ Words spoken to no one with conviction. His voice trembled with rage, as did his body. There's no way he can survive this...

Was it worth it, he asks himself again, as he looks down to the small, dark marble in his bloody, shaking hand. ]

reaction

[ua_duibhne]

[The breaking of their Bond robs him of any sense of reason. It's unlike anything Diarmuid's ever felt before, reaching through the haze of his own dream and gripping his heart in an icy hand. He's calling Berserker's name before he's even fully awake, dragging himself up and stumbling like a drunkard.

And then he sees the body. Motionless. The sound he makes is almost animalistic in its rawness.]

No! No, no-

[Diarmuid throws himself forward, struggling hard against the two witches now holding him back. You can't disturb the others. There's nothing we can do now, just hold on a little longer. We'll get to him as soon as we can. It doesn't matter. Even if their voices weren't a muffled buzz in his ears it wouldn't matter. Why should it when it feels like a profound part of him has been torn away, sinews stretched to breaking and flesh ripped like paper? It's as much physical agony as emotional.

Soon isn't soon enough. What if something goes wrong? What if it's already too late and he simply fades away like so many have before? He can't lose him and if they could just see sense-]

Do something! Do something, you- you- [His voice peaks, a cry of horror that uses the last of his breath.] Get off of me-!

[The world tilts and turns to black. Later he learns that it took a particularly strong charm to pacify him, that he could have endangered the other dreamers in his hysteria. He apologises, lets himself be scolded and lectured in silent shame. Only then do they take him to Berserker's body and agree to let him stay by him. The ritual will be at dawn and thre's a good chance he'll pull through with no side effects, or so they say. Diarmuid has no reason to disbelieve them.

And yet when he's left with the ache and the loss and the void in his chest Berserker's presence filled, he can't help but wonder what might happen if it never returns. This was beyond his control, even he knows that, but the guilt seeps into the cracks so easily: he should have been at his side when it happened, he should have done something, anything. There's so much he should have done. Diarmuid reaches out and takes one of his hands in his own, eyes stinging at the coldness beneath his fingertips.

Please come back to him.]

Re: reaction

[scatmaam]

He will return.

[ It's spoken not as reassurance or platitude. She was largely incapable of the latter, anyways. No, instead it seemed to be spoken as if it were certainty, as if one were stating that the sun would shine or that the tides would go out. As if it were simply a natural thing that was an accepted part of existence. ]

Because you gave him a place to return to...

[ Scathach set a hand on his shoulder. Her grip is firm, but not harsh. The pressure was an anchor, something to hold Diarmuid, to give him some chain to the waking world around him. This wasn't like Zelda. Ciaran hadn't gone away from the world, to another, but instead was simply at rest... to lay beneath a mountain, until he would rise again. ]

[sing_for_me]

[ The thick smell of blood that tinged the air hits her first, a hand coming up to her mouth when her eyes fall onto the bodies strewn upon this wasteland. There is so much to take in and no where to look without some kind of carnage, but it’s the rage-filled roar that shakes the earth beneath her feet that makes her look up and grabs her attention instantly.

What she sees next are arrows coming down and piercing what looked like a beast at first glance. It takes a moment for a Alex to realize that she recognized who was tearing through his attackers. With every blow he takes she gasps and cries out in horror. It’s difficult to find the words to call out or him, and her feet feel like lead, keeping her in place.

The men fall one by one, leaving behind a single young woman. Her eyes send a chill down Alex’s spine, but it’s when she takes a knife into Berserker’s chest over and over again that makes the merrow’s heart drop.

Her mind goes blank and her body finally moves, running towards him as he pierced through the woman with his spear. She makes it just in time to grab him and try to support his weight, his blood warm as it drips down her arms. ]

Ciaran—Ciaran!

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ So he's not alone. That should comfort him, but when he realizes who it is, it almost makes him feel worse. It's not like Alex is fragile and weak -- she just doesn't deserve to see this. No one deserves to see someone they care about die. There shouldn't be anyone that cares about him and this would just be the inevitable end of his life.

And yet...There she is. They've been through a lot together, for better or worse. Maybe that's why it hurts so much for her to be here now. ]

Alex... [ His voice is uncharacteristically weak and trembles along with the rest of him. ] You shouldn't be here.

[ Not in the dream, per se, rather in his own. ]

I'll...survive.

[ It's a lie -- he knows he won't survive this. It's just a dream, though, right? He'll just wake up in the Coven, injured but alive. That's the only comfort he has right now. ]

[sing_for_me]

How?!

[ He was bleeding so much--and she'd never heard his voice so weak. Not even when they were in captivity. She tries to move him but his weight is too much for her, almost taking both of them down. But even if she had the strength to, where would she even take him? Where in this hell hole was she supposed to find help? ]

Ciaran--Y-you need to wake up. You have to get out of here and g-get help!

[ Alex tries to lower him so he doesn't over exert himself, cradling his head in her arms. The more she looks him over, the more injuries she finds. Arrows still protruded from his body, and she hesitates over what to do and what not to. ]

Ciaran, please--You have to wake up from this! You're not--You can't die! Y-you can't--

[ Her voice starts to tremble as much as her hands dart from one gaping wound to another to try and stop the bleeding.

There was so much she still had to say, things she still didn't know how to say, and things that she shouldn't have said. There was so much to make up for, both in gratitude and regret.

His heart beat feels faint beneath his stab wounds, Alex hearing her own pounding in her ears. The people she cared about disappeared without warning and without a trace, in some odd way giving her an excuse to have not done what she should have. But she had her chances, he was still here, slipping right through the very hands that pushed him away. ]

Ciaran--[ Her voice breaks, tears streaming down her face and rolling off his skin as they solidify into pearls. ]

What--what should I do? I don't--I don't know what to do--

[curruid_coinchenn]

There's nothing...there's nothing you can do.

[ It was the truth. He knew it was too late. Everything's growing hazy and she feels so far away. The physical pain is bad enough -- seeing Alex so distressed causes his a different sort of pain, like someone's squeezing his heart.

There's something that needs to be done, though. He lifts his hand with considerable effort, opening it to reveal the little dark marble in his palm. ]

Take this for me. Make sure they get it...