Event Log: October, The Price of Revolution p2

[faileas]

Event Log: October, The Price of Revolution p2

Imperfect Solutions With all the crystallized energy harvested by the volunteer dreamwalkers in the nightmarescape gathered and counted and found to be just enough, Aefenglom's Coven turns to putting it to use. It takes three full days, until the 1st of Octeuril, to purify and prepare the black glass-like orbs, even with most of Aefenglom's skilled Witches on the case. Learning the purifying process is open to Mirrorbound Witches as well, since even their own needed to be taught - the magic that allowed this energy to be brought into the waking realm is a type of spell not seen in many decades, and will likely not be seen for many more. Purified, the crystals turn clear and iridescent, exuding power, and each one is imbued with instruction by Miss Nessie and her inner circle. From there, they're taken to Dorchacht along with volunteers - Monster and Witch alike - who wish to help with the waking process. It's simple from there: each small crystal is laid over the heart of a sleeping citizen, and within the span of half an hour, they wake, confused and disoriented. They need filling in on what happened, and the comfort of friendly faces, because they will be angry about what happened, or scared, and may accidentally lash out before they come around fully. With the Three woken as well, and a little problem like Morgana lingering like a storm cloud, the talks begin on how to proceed, but it becomes apparent that they cannot agree on what to do. Aefenglom's Coven under Miss Nessie want to strip her of her magic and imprison her indefinitely in order to draw information from her, while Dorchacht's Coven, furious about how they were attacked, simply want her head. Finally it comes down to who will have the strength and numbers to reach her and take her down. Whichever Coven arrives first, with Mirrorbound assistance, will be the ones to decide. Neither are terribly happy with the disagreement, and Mirrorbound may see relations between ally Covens a bit tense in the coming weeks. Both parties will set out on the 11th, after regaining their strength, and set a course through Dorchacht's largely-unexplored Wilde.

I. The Trees Have Eyes Far past the borders of the Wilde that Dorchacht's explorers have mapped and begun to reclaim, the landscape twists overgrown and sprawling. As you delve into the birch forest the sky overhead grows dark and gray, with little sunlight filtering through the thick mist even at midday, letting you know you're on the right path. Monsters with night vision have a distinct advantage here, and others may find themselves stumbling over uneven, treacherous ground in the dark - roots that weren't there a blink of the eyes ago, sharp stones buried under the carpet of dead leaves, sharp branches that almost seem to reach out for them, aiming to cut and scrape and spread their Cwyld infection. Taking a lantern or learning a light spell is highly recommended to help you avoid the natural dangers. Of course, some of the dangers are unnatural as well. In the dark, tendrils of fog curling over the thick carpet of dead leaves and brush, the birch trees stretch toward the sky like pale, jagged fingers all around you, all their trunks littered with strangely shaped knots in the bark. You might feel as though the eye-like knots on the trees are following you, blinking and shifting, tracking your movements; many of them are, and it isn't hard to figure out who is keeping eyes on you as you get closer to her stronghold. If you want to maintain some element of surprise, the trees must be blinded. These eyes can be damaged physically or blanketed with spells. They weep blood down the white bark when cut into, which may be unnerving, but it's better to continue on without surveillance if you can. She knows you're coming, regardless, but she may not know what you're capable of.

II. A Maze of Thorns The Forest of Eyes gives way to rocky ground and thorny bushes rising into the darkened sky. Up here, it's not quite mountainous, but it's more difficult to traverse than any explored ground closer to Aefenglom. It becomes a significant hike to keep going and once again, Monsters are likely to have the advantage, especially those with adaptations that fit the climate. Off in the distance, far uphill, a grand, dark manor comes into view, looming oppressive over the land much like its owner. It's out of place in this swath of Wilde, unmistakable - it could not have truly been raised without notice, and so is most likely an elaborate illusion. This can be confirmed by your Fae brethren, or Witches who specialize in illusion magic: they see twisted trees with screaming maws set into their trunks and bleeding eyes, huge stones engraved with runes of power and covered in blackened, Cwyld-infested lichen, and the thick webs of massive spiders draping the branches like tatters of silk. Dorchacht's Witches confirm the particular stench of Morgana's magic, an elegant black mist that may smell a little like sweet rot to those who are sensitive to such things. You know she's there. But you have to get there first. A true, labyrinthine maze of thorny brambles stretches out between the illusory manor and you, filled with magical obstacles meant to slow progress and confound. Puzzles, minor curses and enchantments, and enchanted barriers requiring the blood of particular types of Monsters combined with a Witch's magic litter the way, ensuring you will need to work together - and work against the blanket curse that covers these grounds. a. To Those Unbonded, We Salute You As you traverse the maze, hopefully dispelling obstacles and leaving markers to help your fellows behind you find their way, it becomes clear that not all is well with some of your traveling party. A sense of heaviness in the limbs and a fog over the mind sets in when you enter the maze, and grows stronger and harder to ignore the deeper you go, the closer you get to Morgana's domain. It's a feeling that can be brushed off by holding fast to your Bonded - not necessarily physically, although contact helps, but emotionally, mentally, feeling out that connection between you and drawing strength from it. The stronger your Bonds, the easier a time you will have fighting off the curse laid over the land. Without a Bond, the sluggish feeling will persist, and it cannot be shaken off by even the strongest of wills. Maybe you can keep going, but your progress will be slow, and you'll find yourself weakened, your magic fizzling or your rational mind slipping away in fits and starts. Each step forward will be a torment until it grows physically painful, your lungs too heavy to expand and contract. Dorchacht's Coven believe Bonds are important, however, and most carry temporary Bonding potions with them in their emergency supplies. You'd best hope someone is willing to Bond with you, even for a little while, because it's the only way forward. b. False Moons As you progress, the dark clouds in the sky part, revealing a new trial to pass. Whereas before in Dorchacht, Morgana's thick fog suppressed the glow of the Sisters in the sky, now she has recreated them in shades of red, hanging low in the darkened sky - false moons, huge and glowing, their effects stronger than the natural lunar cycle ever could be. The tug on the mind and body feels just as unnatural as it is, profoundly different from the Sisters themselves. Monsters will feel the sharp yank toward ferality crawling in their every thought, heightening their more animalistic instincts and traits. Some may even slip into their full moon forms unbidden. Witches will feel their magic increasing, but to dangerous levels, until it's difficult to control and easy to go haywire. Losing yourself is inevitable if you slip even a little. Emotions go off the rails. Your fear, your hatred, your anger or your sense of righteous justice - they become gripping, impossible to ignore under the soft red light of Morgana's false moons. It's easy to see it in the Witches and Monsters from Dorchacht and Aefenglom both, who often start to bicker with each other and turn on one another. Can you keep the peace, or do you join in, turning on your companions in your red haze? Or maybe your better nature wins out - but even that can be used against you. Your love, your protectiveness, your loyalty, those too are enhanced to extremes with the intent to debilitate. The fake moons are easier to stave off with a Bond to turn to, someone to support and stabilize, to help you see through the curse that blankets the maze, but everyone will feel it stronger and stronger as they grow closer to their goal.

III. Black Magic Woman The maze of thorns emerges to hilly ground set with twisted trees and shards of stone jutting from the dead grass, many of them long ago engraved with runes and spellwork, now splashed with rusty, dried blood. The Cwyld is not present in this clearing, where the illusory manor sits atop the highest hill, but Morgana Drummond is probably more dangerous right now. She exudes power, and it's clear that a fight is imminent. The followers she has left are not present, nor are any of her mind-controlled thralls from the attack on Dorchacht - she stands at the top of the hill alone, the wind whipping at her skirts. Her voice rings out loud even though she doesn't seem to yell or project at all. "Mirrorbound, always poking your noses into the business of those who live here. Always so certain that you are right and just. What gives you strangers to this continent the right to decide what the way of our world should be?" Her piece is said. She's not much of a talker, but her eyes tell tales of contempt and disgust for the mixed Covens, the Mirrorbound working together, Witches and Monsters standing as equals. That contempt practically flows off her like water, tendrils of black that seep into the ground until it rumbles beneath your feet. a. The Clay Men Those erratic shards of rock jutting out of the ground start to shake before your eyes, reforming, rolling together with mud and stones and thick, heavy magic into vaguely humanoid creatures several feet tall, their "eyes" glowing as Drummond gives them life. Her clay men are sturdy creatures entirely bent to her will, the dead land given animation and strength and killing intent. They have multiple weak points, places the materials don't hold together as strongly, that can be used to dismantle them. They don't seem to reform after they've been defeated, but there are so many of them that they just keep coming. And worse, their stony, lumbering limbs that hit and kick are not the only weapons in their arsenal. Each clay man has an element, denoted by the glow of their "eyes": fire, ice, earth, water, lightning, some can even pull on two or more of these elements at once to make them difficult to take down. Somehow, these clay men have a way of using your own natural elemental weaknesses, whatever they may be, against you. A two-pronged approach is probably best: one person to counter the elemental attacks while the other attacks the weak points. The clay men will defend Morgana to the end, spreading out to push you farther from her, but you and yours have plenty of tricks up your sleeves, right? b. Sowing Division It should come as no surprise that mere clay men are not the only trick Morgana has to defend herself with. Her empire was built on mind control magic, and it comes as naturally to her as breathing. The blood-splashed rocks that litter the clearing like jagged teeth pulse whenever you get close to them, and tendrils of her control reach out for your mind. Her whispers are insidious, her commands clear: kill your fellows, your friends, your Bonded. It can be fought off, but not easily, and not without help. Your friends will have to bring you back to your senses, remind you of what's real. In the midst of the battle, with Mirrorbound and natives working together, a path is cleared for The Dragon, representative of Dorchacht's Coven. They get to Morgana before anyone else can, and she closes them off within a dark mist barrier to keep others from interfering. It enrages Morgana like nothing else, that her runes carved into the Dragon's body have healed, that her magic has no sway on their mind any longer. These two have a long and personal history, and the conflict between them ends here in blood. Morgana's throat sprays the dead ground as The Dragon's claws draw across it. They take her head off her shoulders, retribution for untold years of slavery and abuse at her hands, and in that moment, Morgana Drummond's magic dies with her. The illusions fade, her remaining clay men crumble, and the sweet-rot tang of her magic dies down, leaving only the silence and scents of a dead patch of Wilde. After a long moment, a riotous cheer goes up from the Dorchacht Coven members, while Aefenglom's look at each other with unease. Over the next several hours, the Three keep custody of Morgana's remains, burning them on a pyre. Interestingly, whatever they add to the flames makes them burn black - burning away her very magic, they explain, to lessen the chance of her remaining followers using any part of her remains for wicked work. Her ashes are bundled up into a box engraved with seals and will be taken back with the Three to be monitored for a week to ensure nothing happens, and then they will be disposed of. It's obvious from all the precautions taken that she will not return, but Aefenglom's Coven remains solemn and concerned; everything she knew is lost to them all.

Welcome to October's event, The Price of Revolution Part 2! Morgana's final fate was determined by a 31 to 17 vote to end her permanently. While this does mean she will not be returning (no twist endings here) and relations between Mirrorbound and Dorchacht's Coven remain strong, it also means any knowledge she may have had is totally lost. As always, if you have any questions, please direct them here!

Comments

QUESTIONS

[moustre]

Connor | Detroit: Become Human | Merrow

[plasticasshole]

False Moons;

[As the red moons hang overhead, Connor feels his body changing. Claws sprout from nails, his fangs lengthen, his eyes can't see as much as they should- the sclera go black, the iris a milky, pupilless blue. His fins grow from where they usually hide, fanning out along his arms and calves, to the point he has to roll up his pant legs just so they're not being crushed by them.

And he gets snappy. Innocent bumps into others will cause him to tut, whether his fault or theirs. Any if someone should pick an argument with him, he has to fight back the urge not to fight them instead. They're on the same side... he just needs to remember that...]

The Clay Men; (one response only please)

[Connor has been quite thoroughly cornered by a clay man with lightning powers. Though he's been able to dodge the attacks until now, he's been literally backed into a corner and has nowhere to go. The clay man charges up and Connor closes his eyes hard, waiting for the killing blow- he can't survive it, being both a Merrow and an android.

Maybe someone will step in to help him? He'd most certainly owe them later.]

The Aftermath;

[It's over, and Morgana is dead. Connor can't say he's sad that things ended this way- he wanted her to be unable to hurt anyone else. It's the same principle as with the Rathmores. Some people are just more trouble alive than they are dead. That said, he doesn't cheer with the others when the illusions fade around them, he just looks to his nearest Mirrorbound and smiles. Whether they agree with his reaction or not is a different matter, though.]

The Clay Men

[fuckingpassw0rd]

Hey asshole. Do you know what happens when clay meets a burst of fucking fire?

[Sure, the line is a little corny, but the battles have worn out Hank to the point of near exhaustion. Normally he couldn't, or shouldn't be fighting anymore. Especially at his age. At some point he had lost sight of Connor, and when he finally sees him stuck inside a corner like a...caged animal, he snaps. That anger gives Hank just enough energy to begin a fiery inferno around the creature, burning the clay and leaving it to be cooked before becoming nothing more than a large, unmoving, smoking statue.

Exhausted and out of breath, he gives it a push with one of his legs, sending the entire thing crashing down and shattering.]

Good fucking riddance.

[plasticasshole]

[Connor sighs in audible relief to both see Hank, and to not be fried. He gets up and goes over to him, making sure he isn't hurt.]

Are you okay?

[He seems... dead on his feet, honestly. Connor sees a clay man coming up behind them with water spells at the ready, but Connor directs the blast of water aimed at Hank's back off to the side instead, careful not to get himself wet in the process. He won't be much help if he doesn't have legs, after all.]

We need to find somewhere so you can rest for a minute...

[He uses the water to create a hardened bubble around them, and grabs Hank's hand to tug him off into a nest of jagged rocks that covers their back and sides well enough, just not their fronts. For that, Connor keeps the bubble up. It won't take much direct damage, but it will take stray attacks for them. The water clay man already seems distracted with someone else.]

Sit down. Are you thirsty?

[fuckingpassw0rd]

Y-yeah. Just gonna need, a fucking long-ass break after this.

[He's gonna hurt all over after this. He groans, and Connor would get a mental speech about Hank thinking how he's way too old for this shit, trying to offset stress with complaining.]

Don't think being drunk is going to help.

[If he's doing bad jokes he's mostly fine. Just exhausted.]

False moons - this should proably be more serious, but I cannot

[stopfen]

[It wasn't an innocent bump. And the only warning of it was the glint of colour that shifts through the fae's wings and the droning hum as she hovered above.

Then she's darting in. Exoskeleton covered arms grabbing, nearly tackling as she pulled him back along the route he'd came. Chittering. Taking him back to where it was safe. She only held for a second, letting go once she'd given him a good shove back. Another flick of her wings propelling her back into the air where she could watch over him.

She protecc

Even if he did not want to be protecc]

who needs serious tbf

[plasticasshole]

[Connor scowls, not happy about being pulled back.]

Why are you pulling me back here? It's the other way.

[He doesn't mean to be snappy, he just... he's so irritated right now.]

[stopfen]

It's dangerous. [Yup, that's it. That's the whole reason. It's not snappy, just blunt. Like she was explaining something to a child.

She got you friend. No fae strange-ness mixed with the odd moons happening here. Just a fae fluttering above, watching her catch with sparkling black eyes.]

Momo | IDOLiSH7 | Witch

[yesdoubt]

[a: false moons]

[Momo is there for the awakenings and of course there for the venture out to confront Drummond, focused on the mission like very little else can do to him. He wasn't even here for the original revolution, but what he saw of the ex-leader last month was enough for him to align with the Dorchacht Coven on this. Knowledge is valuable, but a person without magic can still be plenty dangerous enough to need a permanent solution, as he knows all too well from home.

The magic certainly doesn't help, though. He recognises the feeling of the false moons empowering his magic from the past incidents like Maiuril, where it had been all too ready at his fingertips and he'd had considerably less control than he does now (and no Bonds). But he's in a more secure place these days - he has two Bonds to grasp at and ease his strain with his magic a bit. It helps with the emotional aspect as well, but however unfortunately, he's used to slamming down high emotions in favour of a singular goal for years at a time. So despite the high tensions, and the insistent feelings that suddenly want to vie for space in his head, he shoves them aside for the moment in favour of all the harder focus on getting this done, whichever side ends it.

It means he might start a bit if someone finds him focusing intently on how to solve the next puzzle, or how to dismantle the next trap without anyone getting hurt, a slight crackle of magic escaping his fingers.]

Shit, sorry. Trying to ignore the peanut gallery. [He taps the side of his head to indicate that he doesn't mean anything outside of it.]

--

[b: clay men]

[Once Drummond is within visible range, Momo's focus to try and drown out the cacophonous emotions brought on by the fake moons shifts from driven to merciless. The clay men are just one more thing in the way of getting this done, though an absent part of him wonders if this is what it feels like to fight a video game boss with telegraphed weak spots in real life.

Either way, he's ready to team up - he's particularly focused on downing any lightning element enemies for reasons anyone he's mentioned being Bonded to a harpy and a merrow to can probably guess, but if there's anyone who seems to be struggling with a clay man of any element or lacking in backup, he heads over to give them some defensive cover with a barrier and take up strategising.]

You need cover or someone to take out the weak spots? I can do either, as long as these things are gone as fast as possible.

[Don't mind how savage he sounds, it's probably fine. It's not like he has a habit of snapping in combat or anything.]

--

[c: sowing division]

[Almost the minute Momo arrived here and learnt magic existed, he had considered certain possibilities. Hearing about the initial Dorchacht revolution had confirmed certain possibilities enough for him to prepare for them - an anti-mind control spell inked onto him in only his second month here, for fear he might ever be forced to turn on his loved ones.

He's almost thankful he hasn't had to use it until now, as he steers too close to the bloody rocks and feels something try to press into his mind before the nape of his neck burns and clears it. Slightly dazed from the initial surprise, he touches at the tattoo - a rough flower a few shades of pink off his skin tone, so it may be difficult to see more than a few feet away - and then turns on his heel to blockade anyone in the vicinity from getting any closer to the stone, throwing a barrier in front of them if he has to.]

Stay away from the stones! She's trying to brainwash us.

[Alternately*, if anyone's already strayed too close, he'll use his relative better resistance to try and break through to them. He can still feel the magic, the words scratching insistently at the back of his mind like a poltergeist, trying to find an in, but the tattoo makes it far easier to close it away and keep in the here and now.

He keeps a barrier ready in case of victims already being hostile, but calls out loud and clear, and definitely not without an audible bit of worry. He's good at shoving his emotions in a box, but not quite that good, even if he manages to force himself to start off with something calmer than he's exactly feeling about this.]

Are you still with us?

[[*Due to the nature of the snapping out of mind control, the alternate prompt is probably best done with existing CR!]]

--

[d: wildcard]

[[Feel free to hit me with something earlier on in the piece or plot with me at reviseleviathan or on the CR meme! Momo has one slot available for a potential temp Bond, Witches and Monsters both welcome since he already has 2 Monster Bonds + familiars, so if you're interested in doing something with that please let me know!]]

B

[whomthebelltolls]

[Oh Maria's got her own problems with aggression at the moment. Firstly, another echo from home: The effect of the false moons is reminding her in no small part of what being Blood-drunk felt like. Furthermore, she has someone with as many murderous prerogatives occupying a very aggressive part of her mind, and feeding it with promises of slaughter.

Enemy she says into the Bond, to make sure they both keep on task. Aggression is not a problem, but becoming unfocused is. Enemy in this case, for Maria, is to keep focused on the end goal of getting to Morgana, but at the moment, there's a giant clay homunculus in front of her.

... "Giant" being subjective. Maria is something of a giant herself.

Words - human words, from a human mouth, or something like one are helpfully grounding, as well, when all inside her mind is straining for the splash and trickle, thick and hot, of blood.] Keep backup. I'll kill it. [There's a strange inflection on the word kill, like it's something that touches a hysteric place inside her.

Just another reason she wants to destroy Morgana. How dare that bitch remind her of being Blood-drunk.

On the plus side, she looks significantly better than she did the last time Momo saw her. She's only minorly injured, and healing what she does get, standing strong and firm, and far more on her game than she was against the Nuckelavee before.] Evocation and enchantment are my game. You keep it distracted.

[yesdoubt]

[Momo notes how much better Maria looks right now, but it doesn't exactly feel like the right time to point it out, so he feels the best way to demonstrate that he still holds strong with her despite what happened with the nuckelavee is to respond to her order quickly and decisively.]

Yeah, that part is definitely more my game. [Illusion is the magic he's been studying here the longest, closely followed by Abjuration, so his casting speed with those is considerably better than with anything he's picked up more recently. But this is a more complex illusion, so he runs to one side to take advantage of the precious moments he needs to write some sigils on himself, after which he disappears--

--only to reappear elsewhere moments later. Except there's another five of him surrounding the clay man. All of the illusions and the real Momo are making identical motions, and he's throwing his sounds to all of them as well, making it just about impossible to determine which is the real one. As all of them make the casting motions, a compressed barrier spell appears in front of one of them, and shoots forward to ding the creature's head...and then just as it rounds on the one that did it, another compressed barrier appears in front of another and does the same thing. That's the real Momo having to work overtime to originate the spells from a point other than himself, but it's worth it to keep everything confused. As the creature tries to swing at one of them, a proper defensive barrier appears to repel it, stopping it from touching the figure and determining whether it's illusion or flesh.]

Let me know if you need more. [With Momo's voice bounced to the five illusions as well, it sounds a bit like the voice of the legion.]

[whomthebelltolls]

I think that will do.

[There's five of Momo, and only one of Maria, which actually makes her a pretty appealing target, and she knows it, but as soon as the clay man reaches for her, she teleports out of sight.

He's not the only one with fancy abilities, but hers are more individual. This one is not weak to fire, and that puts Maria at a disadvantage, but she has been wanting to try out ice for a while in a combat situation. She gets pitifully few chances to try it, and as the clay man tries to swing fiery fists at her, she just dodges through the after-image of flames. Surpriiiise, she's using ice, but her usual element is actually fire. Just to further confuse things.

What's not is the way the ice suddenly coats both of her blades as she splits them apart, extending both out by a couple feet with the large, crystalline blades. She can't use ice like her blood abilities... but she can sure fling icicles.

Momo just might want to watch his clones for any of the ones she misses.] Just give me a good flank, and we can do this.

C

[thejoyrider]

[Marie is not much of a fighter, never was. But she is nimble, she is agile. She can act as a messenger who can fly around the battlefield and that’s bound to be useful just as much as brute force, if not more.

She barely hears what Momo has been shouting as she flies past him, but it doesn’t matter as she ends up hitting the magicked barrier he conjured up in just a few seconds. A bit dazed from the impact, she makes her way towards the Witch to confirm the situation.]

Did you discover something important here? I can pass it along to others, just give me a quick summary!

[As she talks, she hands Momo a bottle of water from the supplies she’s been carrying. And a piece of candy, which was her personal addition to all the emergency packs. Everyone could use a small cheering up in the situation they were in]

[yesdoubt]

[Momo blinks briefly in apparent surprise at someone offering him a bottle of water (and a sweet) in the middle of a fight like this, though at least he doesn't forget his manners.] Huh. Thanks? Sorry for the sharp stop.

[He's still much more concerned about the stones over his own condition, though, so since it's clear he didn't bump Marie too hard with that collision, he's pointing the nearest blood-spattered stone out before he goes anywhere near using the supplies she's given him.]

I just went near that stone and felt something trying to get into my head. The anti-mind control spell I got ages ago reacted to it, so I think they're conduits for Drummond's mind control. I got lucky because I had something to break it, but if anyone else goes near those and they don't have a similar ward, they're gonna get brainwashed. So tell them to avoid the stones.

[The last thing they need is more numbers against them, not to mention what people having their allies trying to murder them is probably going to do to their heads in turn.]

[thejoyrider]

No, I should be the one thanking you. If it wasn’t for your barriers, I would have flown right into this magic’s range. You saved me.

[Clearly Momo deserves at least two candies for this but Marie wastes no time looking for another one in her supplies.]

Looks like the spell I have here might also come handy today...

[She takes off her shawl, revealing the flowery tattoo on her neck she got from Caster a long time ago]

One of these flowers is enchanted. With this I should be able to make my voice heard at the battlefield.

Do you have any idea how big their range might be?

c [may I?]

[boneofsword]

[Archer has been inspecting the stones without getting too close. However, the difference between safe distance and too close for anyone's concern is completely lost on the stubborn dragon. Perhaps he simply trusts the tattoo that his Bonded inked on his skin before the fateful trip to Dorchacht. The compulsion has not yet got hold of him, although the voices try to drown any other noise from nearest vicinity. The shout and barrier cause him to turn his head a bit towards the voice.]

It's much stronger than before.

i'm good with it

[yesdoubt]

[Momo still looks a little bit on edge (not least because of the combo of the moons and now the voices that he can still hear despite his protective tattoo), but the fact that this man seems to be familiar with the stones makes him cautiously optimistic he might have more information.]

Was there something like this during the revolution? I wasn't here for that, I just felt something trying to get into my head.

[He touches at the back of his neck, where his tattoo rests on the join of spine and neck, and near the brainstem. He figured a logical place to put a ward against mind control would be at the path anything from his brain has to follow to get to the rest of his body.]

Mikasa Ackerman | Attack on Titan | Fae

[stopfen]

Into the woods (Eye horror??)
[Large black eyes scanned the tree line. The fae hadn't made a full recovery. Small scrapes remained on her carapace, that wouldn't heal. She'd have to wait for the chitin to shed. But it'd regrown enough that she didn't need crutches to move. Mikasa wasn't sure what awaited them, she had no real investment in the outcome. But there was that urge, that need to get the witch back, to see her fall.

... Even if the sensible part of her brain told her it was a bad idea... At least she'd brought her obsidian swords along this time.

So for now she plodded along. Until they got to the trees, the trees that had eyes. Barbed stumps waved at one, as the fae took a step closer. Head tilting as she stared back at the pupil that focused on her. And for a moment, there's a staring contest, neither side blinking.

... Then Mikasa just stabbed it. She wasn't going to punch it, who'd be dumb enough to just touch something out here. For a second the blade stayed embedded in the eye, then it's tugged out blood running down the tree as bark slid shut over the ruined eye.

Only for another, higher up on the tree to open. It earns a huff from the fae as she looked up at it, at some of the other eyes that reflected small specks of light through the darkness.]

I don't think we're going to find all of them.

[Not if some of them would only open after another had been destroyed.]

Maze craze

a.[The fae's response to the illusions? She doesn't even notice that there's one in place, only seeing the beneath. It only gets a single comment.]

Oh, the trees have mouths too now... [And that was it. No context to where that came from. Other than anyone who didn't have the same immunity to illusions as she did would only see a normal tree.]

b[So she moved on. Heading into the maze, sticking with the group. She'd already learnt Morgana's thoughts on fae, and these barriers seemed to need a witch to get past. Which meant flying over the maze was out.

Those barriers brought another problem. They needed monster blood, that much was clear. Mikasa's face was strained as the person checking the ward came to that conclusion. For a rather simple reason. Those that had seen her in during the warmest months, when she'd worn short sleeves and skirts, they might remember that most of her limbs were covered in that hard shell. There wasn't anywhere easily accessible to get that fae blood. The seconds trickle on, her antenna twitch.

Then suddenly she turned her head to look at the closest person. She has an idea!]

Punch me.

[NOSE BLOOD WOULD HAVE TO BE ENOUGH.]

c.[Later though, some might notice that even if the fae was (MOSTLY) uninjured, her breathing was getting more ragged. Her steps less controlled, worn down. It didn't stop her from moving or trying to. She had a bond, a witch bond, she'd needed one after reaching the last leg of her changes. But Emet-Selch... As a magic battery, he was fine. That was all the fae had needed from a bond. The energy, to make up for the magic her monster bond, Tendou, had not been able to provide. While the chimera had provided the emotional support to keep the worst of the fae's instincts at bay.

'Had' was the keyword there. Emet-Selch may have provided the magic to satiate the hunger, but their bond wasn't strong enough for him to be able to reign her in.

It doesn't take long for the fae to vanish, her harsh breathing cutting out. Or not, if one could see through illusions. They'd see and hear her. But otherwise, the only indication that gave the fae away would have been the things she hadn't thought to hide. Her scent, the slight movement of air as her wings flickered. The occasional chirp that slipped through.

It started small. Loose objects of clothing and hair being brushed as she passed. Then those smaller than the fae's 5'5 would feel an invisible hand grasping them, pulling them back through the maze. Taking them back to where it was safer.]

maze craze b

[sealeted]

You want me to what?

[Hakuno would look wide-eyed, if her own eyes hadn't also finished blacking out entirely not so long ago. As it stood, she still looked vaguely taken aback, but it didn't take her long to connect the dots.]

...it would be quicker to get mine. I have a needle, but a knife might be better...

[stopfen]

[Her lips part for a moment, silently staring at the smaller fae. Ah...maybe she should have checked who was stood nearby before asking. She'd thought it'd been that faun who'd been trekking along.

The silent unblinking stare lasted just long enough to be awkward. But Mikasa just plowed on. Not mentioning that just seconds ago she'd asked to be punched. She was reaching to her waist, not for the swords. They were several times too much for this. Instead, she pulls out an obsidian knife. Fae safe! Other than the fact that it was a knife, it was still sharp enough to cut, but there was none of that burning that an iron blade would bring.

She passes it over, handle first.]

...Where are you getting it from?

[YES, she was moving on very quickly to get past her awkward.]

Maze - B

[song_princess]

Punch... You? Why would you want me to do such a thing?

[So much worry in the snake!birb.]

[stopfen]

We need blood to get through... [Just...bluntly. Looking at the girl's arms. Eyes narrowing...internally questioning her choices. She'd have better luck making her own nose bloody, wouldn't she?]

Unless you have another idea? [She does look though, tilting her head. Even if the words might have sounded brusque.]

Kaede | Elfen Lied | Chimera (ota)

[long_live_the_queen]

II-A. Twisted Corners

[Mazes were nothing new to Kaede—but these blood doors were a new irritation. Kaede didn't much like them. But she didn't much like many things.

With a frustrated growl, a drifting wisp of shadow tries to slip past the door, through the thorny brambles—only for the branches to clamp together into a solid mass, and the door glowed bright and crackled dangerously when approached. But the shadow was too stubborn to fold so easily. She persists—until she hears the sound of steps.

If it's someone Kaede recognizes, the shadow will speak up first.]

Hey. Do you know how to get past these?

[If not, the shadow-Chimera remains silent initially, though there is an intense feeling of being watched by one of the puddles of dark near the hedges' tangled roots while she gauges the reaction.]

II-B. False Moons

[Kaede heard it, the moment the skies cleared. The whispering voice—but wrong, twisted, loud. They didn't call to her, wait for her to answer, oh no. The moons, these moons, they pulled like wrestling an unruly dog's leash. They shouted their cacophony so much the sounds shattered to static at the edges—beast you are, beast you return, beast you will always be—

This dog, however, had more than one leash. Two more, even. One was anchored in scarlet hair and stars, the other in the hands of a pale-eyed Hunter. But sinking this—all this energy, this anger, this fury at a world that callously stole what was precious and meted out harsh reprimands—to Chariot, to Maria, was...she shouldn't, she couldn't—

Pieces slipped away from her control anyway as Kaede's form dropped to its solid shape, and the Monster clutched at her temples as her warning words fractured into snarls. The pressure of so many things tamped down was too much, escaping its bindings—

A roar crackled out of the Monster's chest and tore skyward into horrid sound as the chaotic, frenetic, beastly energy sought an escape.

A threat, a warning—there was no hiding the Chimera's presence now. Not from the false moons, and not from others who felt the same madness boiling in the deceitful light.]

III. Clay Men

[The glaring light of the moons, false or not, still made the world too bright for Kaede to slip into shadow again.

But that was fine. That was fine that was fine the anger needed an outlet, something to quench it. And Kaede still had enough clarity in her mind to remember how to use her swords.

There was no finesse in how she fought with them; crudely and savagely, swinging them more like edged clubs than curved blades. And these automatons didn't bleed how the Monster wanted; no iron-salt in the air, no reddening on the edges of the blade. But it'd have to do. It'd have to do, or her fragile grasp on her own mind would slip—and she'd turn to something that did bleed.

She could feel Maria's rage in her mind as keenly as her own, a red-hot spur driving her vision to red-blurred focus. The Chimera struck for the clay automatons that seemed weakest to fire, or simply displayed affinities for such—both concepts started to blur in the Monster's mind.

The words she could manage were similarly simple, bitten out snarls from behind too-sharp teeth.]

Fire. Enemy. Kill it.

3

[whomthebelltolls]

[The ebb and flow of battle was chaotic, but Maria tried to stick close enough to Kaede, if only because once those false moons had come out, it had been like the both of them had been struck a brutal blow by a sledgehammer right to the self-control.

It felt... too much like something Maria had felt before. The prelude to waking up and finding herself ankle-deep in bloody slurry, watching mutilated body parts float about on rain-rippled waters. Blood-drunkenness, is what these new moons felt like. A thrumming, pounding war-drum beat of blood and violence and aggression that pushed her body along on its rhythm until her mind was lost and only the Beast within remained.

She wonders, briefly, if she's going to wake up and find herself with new Beast traits after this.

Then, the thought is gone as a howl pierces the air - it's not Kaede, but a pink chrysanthemum-laden wolf that presses his shoulder against Maria's thigh. The air above the petalwolf shimmers and wavers with heat, and the howl, similarly, pushes a gout of superheated air upward out of its throat. The insides of the chrysanthemums over the creature's hide glow softly like dying embers, and as Maria regains her senses, it snarls at the newest clay man.] Go, Tamash, help.

[Oh yeah, one of the ways Maria has been staving off this mana-fueled madness: She finally made Tamash a familiar. And he is full to the brim with excess mana, fire-flavored as is Maria's wont. He leaps forward, jaws locking around a clay man forearm as the wolf wiggles its body and wrenches downward and opens the chest for Kaede to drive her swords into it.

Quite different from the goofy little wolf that took Maria months to break of the habit of building dens under her far northern sunflower plot, and whose response to that was then to build one under part of the paddock.

Then, Maria pirouettes on her toe, and faces the rest of the army of clay men. One of them is approaching, relentless, but far enough away they should have enough time to take care of the enemy before them.

So then she leaps into the air, spinning about, and then teleporting down right behind, right over Kaede, and slamming into the clay man again. This one is weak to fire.

The one coming will use it. Better to get this done so Kaede can tank the next one while Maria picks it apart with ice.]

[long_live_the_queen]

[That howl wasn't from a Monster--nor was it from the false moons, or the blood-stained stones that sprang their trap on the minds of those who drew near. It was an animal sound, yes--but one that didn't quite belong. The wondering thought brought a moment of clarity to Kaede's frenzied mind, pulling her back just a little from that razor's edge. That was right. She hadn't brought her hyenas with her--there hadn't been time to get them enchantments against the controlling tricks Drummond was sure to use, and Kaede wasn't going to risk them being stolen away from her. The same with Hana.

But there was a petalwolf tearing into the shambling clay, dragging it off balance by its arm, exposing the torso--and Kaede's mind snapped back to its laser focus. With a snarling grimace, the Chimera brought her sword point up, and drove it into the gaps where its ribs could have been had the creature possessed them. The heated edge sank through the mud like loose sand, smoldering and blackening the material the metal touched. The clay-thing's heart was in the center, not crookedly to the left--but no matter. Kaede put enough force behind the strike the blade sank in so far her knuckles brushed crumbling clay from the creature's hide.

And she twisted, worsening the damage and wrenching the blade back out through the ragged exit wound. The light of the spell animating the walking clay glowed bright through the cracks torn through its body, then flickered--then dimmed, and the automaton ceased trying to wrench its arm from Tamash's jaws.

It wasn't a satisfying kill. No blood, no crunch of bone, no sense of achievement, just an all too fleeting moment of bored satiety.

But the flicker of motion--a ripple of a cape, the glint of a blade not her own--diverted her attention, Kaede's smoldering gaze flicked upwards. She followed Maria's trajectory, and snarled as her vision locked onto the next enemy. The Chimera dug her claws into the dirt beneath like a sprinter's cleats, propelling herself over the dead automaton to the next, with heat glowing through cracks in its magma-black armor.

It didn't wait for her to meet it, raising an arm ending with a sharp cone instead of a fist. It glowed white hot as an iron poker, as it crashed down, catching the trailing edge of Kaede's wing as she twisted out of the way. The aegishjalmur on her arms flared bright as they kept the feathers from searing, but not the smell of too-hot keratin. It didn't slow Kaede down at all--the Chimera snapped back on herself, her sword scything for the clay-thing's arm in return. This time, the blade didn't get very far at all, barely scratching the fiery armor.

But while the Chimera snarled in the automaton's face, she kept its attention from drifting.]