Player Plot: The Salvation of Geardagas, Part II

[faileas]

Event Log: February, The Salvation of Geardagas: Part II



CW: This plot has a general content warning for kidnapping, torture, experimentation, violence, drug use (incl. aphro), infection/disease and potential death. This is entirely opt-in.

Spirited Away, Part 2 i. Hypothesis One moment, you were free. The next, you wake up in a cold, dark room with eyes on you and the cloying smell of decay all around you. Characters who have been kidnapped are being kept in the lower floor of Alder's estate, which is a labyrinth of rooms and corridors. Without exception, the way out is always either locked or heavily guarded. All kidnapped characters have been infected with the Cwyld (sometimes by proximity to botanical materials, sometimes by being directly exposed to the violent Shades they already have imprisoned) and are being used to further the Evergreen Circle's research into the nature of the plague. The details of these tests is expanded on in the plotting post and, needless to say, their capturers have very little interest in their wellbeing. They're needlessly cruel, often pitting victims against each other and forcing them to infect newer arrivals as they turn up. Subjects are allowed a few hours of sleep at a time and a small meal- assuming that they're not being purposefully deprived of either- and are locked together in cramped cells. ii. Alternative Theory Some characters, however, escape this particular cruelty in favour of something else just as dehumanising. If a member of the inner circle has taken a liking to someone, they'll take them out of the pool of tests subjects and move them into their households. Servitude is ensured by a strong enchantment that scrambles memories and replaces them with the false knowledge that they've been working there all along. These brainwashed servants might also be forced to participate in the torture and testing of the others.

Initiation The night of the initiation party is here. If you've managed to ingratiate yourself with the cult- or at least a member of rank- you'll have already received an elegant envelope with an invitation and all the details. Or maybe you stole one or put together a convincing forgery. Alder's estate is handsome, with a small courtyard lit up with strings of lights and servants at the double doors to greet guests. Inside is just as grand. The hall and ballroom are impressive spaces with vaulted ceilings painted with elaborate star maps and broken up with marble columns that wouldn't look out of place in a palace. Drinks tables are lined up against the walls and there are several smaller drawing rooms off to the side, all of which are full of guests. Throughout the first hour or so, Alder himself flits from person to person, congratulating them and making smalltalk, but he seems different somehow. Excitable. Eager. Of course, there are other ways one might get in; while the front entrance is closely monitored, the side one leading through the kitchens isn’t. In the hustle and bustle, you might slip through unnoticed. i. Cavorting and Cruelty It isn't long before things take a turn. Alder takes to the head of the room and, with his signature voice amplifying enchantment, addresses his audience. He greets everyone and gives a fairly standard speech thanking guests and welcoming initiates to the Evergreen Circle proper- and then it happens. Servants begin to wheel in cages and tanks, all containing individuals infected with the Cwyld at various stages. Some look to have been drugged, others are wide awake, but the regulars seem delighted by their presence. They whisper and titter and applaud. Some of the more docile victims are even taken out to be showed off like animals at a fayre. "Tonight, let us enjoy the fruits of our labour! Witness the progress we've made and share our blessings among yourselves! Fear will only blind you to taking the next step. Indulge, open your minds and take the first step towards your salvation!" What he means by this quickly becomes apparent. While they're not discussing or mocking the imprisoned witches and monsters, the other guests are partaking of vice the party has to offer. The drinks flow freely and there's a manic energy in the air. Those with sharp senses might recognise that some of it has been artificially crafted by enchantments. Furthermore, if you're looking for missing loved ones, you'll no doubt spot them among the "test subjects" or servants. Good luck trying to snap the latter back to reality, though: their memories have been tightly sealed and it might take some work. One of the drawing rooms has been half curtained off and a woman at the door skittishly offers the curious an aphrodisiac-laden draught, though some might have accidentally had some already. Within, guests are draped over every surface in varying states of undress, though there are partitions up to allow for more privacy. What better way is there to spread the Cwyld and strengthen bonds than intimacy? ii. Midnight Show Things reach a fever pitch around midnight. Once more, Alder calls for everyone's attention. "There's one more thing. I know all of you are loyal, true believers- but everyone must be tested," he says, gesturing to several larger bodyguards, "and we have to protect ourselves. There are those who don't understand us and seek to undo our work. Therefore, we need to tie up loose ends." One by one, the least aggressive Cwyld-infected subjects are dragged from their cages and any remaining individuals are brought out, all restrained. One of the bodyguards is carrying a large ceremonial dagger, which he presses to the vampire at the front’s throat. "Rest assured, their deaths with not be in vain: we have learned much and they will make for the perfect offering to the beings who gave us the Cwyld's blessing!" The knife flashes, ready to cut already decaying flesh- - a blood-curdling scream echoes through the room and glass shatters as a Shade breaks free from its prison. It ploughs into the guests, howling with rage as it tears into anyone and everyone that stands in its way, and others soon follow. At some point during the chaos, Alder appears to realise that he’s been caught. He, along with his inner circle, set to work trying to cover up their actions, setting the basement floor alight and using magic to bring down supports to block doorways completely. If you want to gather evidence, it has to be now, else you can focus your efforts on a rescue mission or chasing the cult leader himself down.

[ ooc: More information about the event can be found on the plotting post along with comments for questions, and an IC vote concerning Alder's fate! ]

Comments

[cointosser]

[Urmanov? It's not a name he's heard but, to be fair, if any names were ever used around Jaskier, he likely wouldn't pay attention, anyway. He wants to escape the same as anyone, but he's come to terms with his position. He is not some bold, heroic warrior who can fight his way out. And with this party showing them off, he can only imagine that all of this is culminating into... something.

A culling, perhaps. Preparing for a new round of --

He sickens himself, thinking of it. During his next bite, his chewing slows. It does, in fact, taste good. It is not smothered in the bitterness of spores and mushroom. It is, simply, a biscuit. A treat.

Jaskier looks up at the woman -- the servant, and of course, isn't she dressed like one? A dolled up one, certainly. Why waste a pretty servant, after all?] Is that a genuine offer? [It's blunt because he has no energy to navigate anything more complicated. A trap, perhaps? Are gluttonous prisoners punished? It no longer has any meaning to him, really.] I would love that. And your company, if you see fit to return.

[It's better than nothing. And it's much better than others.]

[adventageous]

[In fairness, Alice has had a myriad of names used around her and can't keep many of the major players of the Inner Circle straight. They all sort of blend together after awhile, anyway--rich and powerful people eager to flex on one another's status in every way imaginable, up to and including their own devotion to the Evergreen cause. She's learned over time to tune much of it out.

Not that any of that matters at the moment. Right now, her attention is focused on this man here. He's perking up a bit, for which she's glad.]

Of course it's genuine. I'll be right back.

[She stands, brushing off her dress a little.]

What your name, by the way? I'm Alice.

[cointosser]

[Of course. He's polite enough (a miracle, really) to only huff his laugh behind his hand. Of course it's genuine. Who wouldn't want to give a little caged bard a pet on the head?

Somehow this is more confusing than the injections and the vaults against the monsters. Is this a technique of torture? The pull between pure terror and a soft, gentle hand?

It no longer matters. He craves it terribly -- and his stomach craves the food, even if he's like to lose it later. He's so terribly fatigued that there's some hope this small meal could give him some energy back.]

Jaskier. [It's the first time anyone who wasn't in a cage as well has asked. That's... rather nice.] You've a kind heart, Alice.

cw: sexual harassment

[adventageous]

Thank you. It's gotten me into trouble more than once.

[Alice has no idea how true that statement actually is.

In any case, she has promised to bring Jaskier more food and intends to follow through with it. She gets sidelined at one point by an especially affectionate partier grabbing her and pulling her close as she walks by, but after a sloppy kiss on the cheek she's released and allowed to continue on her way. Unpleasant, but to be expected. This is just how the rich and powerful are.

(It's not something that Alice, had she been in possession of her actual memories, would have shrugged off and forgiven so easily.)

Soon, she's back to Jaskier's cage with a fresh plate of cookies, crackers, and cheese.]

Here you are, as promised.

[She kneels instead of crouching this time, intending to stay for a little while longer. Jaskier very clearly is enjoying the company, and frankly it's nice to make a social connection that's not tied to Mr. Urmanov and his associates. Plus, it's fascinating to be able to interact with someone who had been through... well, whatever it is the Circle is trying to accomplish with these experiments.

Strange, Alice hasn't really thought much about it until now.]

How does it feel? The infection, I mean. They say it's supposed to be transcendent, somehow.

[cointosser]

[Ominous, but he huffs close to a laugh. Or he tries; it sounds more like a bit of his soul leaving his body. If only he could say the same. No, it's more like his endless quest for a good story has gotten him into trouble. More than once.

He watches her walk off, his curiosity about what is going on piqued.

And what, exactly, her place in this party is. The man who pulls her in close, kissing her, and though she doesn't pull away Jaskier knows, full well, the body language of a woman who is not entirely open to an advance. (He's struck out many times himself, after all.) She simply carries on after, and he's left, useless, in this cage, without even the strength to tell the handsy Circle fan to fuck off.

After all that, she still returns. It may be visible that Jaskier tries to straighten himself, perking up a bit. Company is rare here and has been for a while, but good company, or one not meant to be turned against him, is even rarer.]

You really are made of gold, Alice. [And with food. Food that still does not appear to be infected with... anything. He takes another cookie and cracks it in half, his fingers shaking a little less this time. He centers himself in the cage so as not to startle her, nor infect her. And, perhaps, it won't look as if he's trying to escape.

Which, honestly, he isn't at this point. He glances at her after the question, weighing what the intent behind it is. How could it possibly look to her? It was so grotesque, even Zack couldn't look at him.]

Transcendent in the way they expect it to launch me into the afterlife, I imagine. [He gauges her response. It's horrible, every bit about it, and she should know that, but he also... doesn't want to drive the company off, as pathetic as it sounds.] You're... not infected, are you? It's -- [He swallows the cookie dryly.] I would not wish this on anyone.

[adventageous]

[Much of Alice's life and world have been ominous. They can compare notes once she's of sound mind.

The response Jaskier receives is an expression of pure confusion, as if he's said something that she's never once considered and is struggling to accept. Of course, she wouldn't call his current state attractive, but what's been done to him is important. And it isn't about appearances, anyway. It's about the feeling of it, about the salvation the infection brings. To hear otherwise hits her a bit like a brick to the side of the head.

And yet, she can't deny that he's clearly suffering. It's what prompted her to approach in the first place. Some thought in the back of her mind, dim and unbidden, asks a question her current consciousness isn't capable of: what did they do to him?]

I... ah, no. I'm not infected. Mr. Urmanov says I'm not ready and should be patient.

[She's mistaken, but there's no way for either of them to know that. Her infection is respiratory, mild, and so far asymptomatic. Time spent in the Outer City providing medical aid has seen to that.]

Is there something I can do?

[cointosser]

[Jaskier breathes a very visible sigh of relief. All of the mushrooms along his arm vibrate with the movement.] Good. Stay that way.

[He imagines Mr. Urmanov had very precise reasons for not doing so, and considering how Alice was dressed now, it wasn't entirely hard to imagine why. Who would want such a beautiful woman to be marred with black veins, coughing dust, waiting to die? The same way, Jaskier notices, that many of the Circle themselves are not infected. At least, not in the same way he is.

The question throws him off all over again. Is there? He hans't even considered anything beyond... getting out of here. Not laying in a cramped cage like an animal. (What if there is no getting rid of this? darkly moves across his thoughts.)

He stays quiet a moment. He doesn't know if it will really change her mind about this, but...] If something happens, you need to get out of here. Out of... [He gestures at the party.] Out of this. Think of it as a personal favor. I'd hate to see you turned into a bit of mushroom fertilizer.

[adventageous]

[Alice doesn't respond right away, but it's clear from her expression that his words have affected her. She looks at his arm and the mushrooms growing from it as if really seeing it for the first time. Something dangerously close to recognition shows in her eyes.

Before she can speak, however, she's unceremoniously hauled back up to her feet by a man dressed in dark slacks and a white button-down shirt. His grip on her arm is firm, almost to the point of being painful.]

"Just because you work for one of the most powerful members of the Inner Circle doesn't mean you get to do as you please. Get back to serving drinks like you've been assigned to do."

[Alice glances back at Jaskier apologetically, then gives the man her full attention.]

Of course. I'm sorry.

[The man releases her, and Alice begins walking away back toward the kitchens at a quick clip. Once she's out of earshot, the man bangs on the top of Jaskier's cage.]

"If I catch her over here with you again, I'll make sure you regret it."

[cointosser]

[Does it change anything? Jaskier honestly has not a fucking clue. He does see something in Alice's face, but whether it's some dawning realization or, more likely, genuine confusion, he can't say for sure. He simply hopes --

He flinches as she's pulled back up, and despite how much he would like to be the hero, he shrinks back to the very opposite side of the cage. Every time he's earned attention from the Circle, he's --

He's grown worse.]

Alice --

[Fuck. His whole body folds down, curling up as the cage vibrates around him. He only nods, agreeing to it. To whatever. As long as another of them don't find him particularly interesting again. All the cutting, the bleedings, the needles; lost in the fear of it, he can do nothing but let Alice walk away.

A victim of their power, just as he was.] Yes. Of course.