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

[unsundered]

[It was already better than it could've been. She was still alive, for one thing. She was coherent, even, she recognized him and didn't see him as a threat (beyond that initial startle, that defensiveness which Emet-Selch can't exactly blame her for). She could still move, for that matter, her limbs were all accounted for and facing the same direction.

That was about as good of a news as there was, though, as his gaze quickly tries to make the measure of her condition. The touch of the cwyld was obvious on her, and the signs of injuries barely begun to heal (but that they were already scarring- how long had she been here?!), one of particular note on her thigh which... nearly looked self-inflicted. But there was something of another mark underneath it, though in these few seconds of an impression, he can't think on it much more than that.

It was enough to disturb, in any case.]

Alright is something of a relative term.

[It's a poor attempt at anything casual, but it's there. He wanted to know what had happened- but there wasn't time, and this was hardly the place.

Too near is the sound of crashing, of voices raised. The Ascian spares the noise a sharp glance in its direction, before turning back to Irhya. If she hadn't gone through this door, that meant that it was blocked with something that could withstand a vampire's strength (however reduced from her captivity). Whether his magic could pierce it- he didn't know. And while he could waste time and energy on an attempt, possibly just attracting more attention to them- he could also lead her back out the way he came, through the mess and the chaos he'd just ignored. It wasn't safe either, but neither of them were alone now.

Straightening up, he offers his hand again to help her to her feet.]

If you've no objections on not extending your stay....

[He couldn't teleport; this place was too unfamiliar to him, and his condition had deteriorated enough that he could only manage smaller hops anyway. So the manual way back it was, to the hospital, so she could be looked after. It wasn't too late.

But first there was escaping the estate.]

[omnicrafter]

I'm... I'm fine.

[She's going to be one of those difficult ones, most likely, but that's an issue for the future. The fingers of one of her hands curl into a fist while the other takes his hand, finding her balance again before letting go.]

No, I think I'm quite done with this place. Though-- [She pauses, her eyes falling upon his neck and the general state of his own body,] they didn't take you too, did they?

[unsundered]

[The insistence of being fine just gets a brief sigh, but he doesn't argue with it. She was alive, coherent, and mobile: for now, that was good enough.

And once she's on her feet, he nods at her, before quickly beginning to try and retrace the steps he'd taken to get here. Normally his memory of things like this- layouts, maps, interiors- was good, but between the chaos and his own illness it all was hazy about the edges, and he needed to move swiftly before it faded entirely, back into hunger.

The question gets a headshake.]

No, this has all been sourced elsewhere. Before now, I've had no contact with the group.

[There's upended furniture to avoid, fires smoldering and spitting, fed by substances that look uneasily combustible. He splits his attention between the world and Irhya, making sure she was still with him.]

Have you- do you know how long you've--

[It's an impulse, morbid, that has him ask, for all that he cuts himself off with an irritated noise. What kind of sense of time did most captives even have?]

[omnicrafter]

[Irhya shakes her head slowly and makes a negatory sound, having wondered many times how long it's been herself in moments of better clarity. Frankly, she can't even remember what day it was when she was taken; it was the least of her concerns at the time. But she seems relieved to hear he wasn't bothered by them, even as she looks down and is reminded she effectively did this to herself.]

I mouthed off to them... I didn't take it seriously. Of course they'd target me.

[She grips his hand a little tighter, fighting the urge to let her knees cave and drop to the ground again. They pass an upturned sofa being licked by flames, the heat of which she can feel keenly, and her mind wanders again. She hasn't fed in gods know how long, and yet by the look of it, he's in no condition to be offering right now.]

It's my own damn fault.

[unsundered]

[To hear that Irhya had provoked them- it gets a quiet sort of exhalation, easily lost amidst the sounds of fire, of things snapping, breaking, shouting, growling. It didn't surprise; if anything, it was a point of mildly exasperating fondness. Of course she would hassle them, make of herself a target.]

Not the- the wisest course of action, was it?

[But he squeezes her hand; it's not all that admonishing, really. They pass by a feline-turnskin, half-crushed under the remnants of a stone table, and badly infected. There's cries for help that are blatantly and indifferently ignored by Emet-Selch- as the Ascian only glances at them to make sure they weren't a threat- pulling Irhya onward, with steps far quicker than his usual variety.]

Though I would reserve the majority of blame for your captors.

[Would humanity ever really change? There were days where that pale hope he had for them grew even fainter.

Emet-Selch did, in some dim corner of his mind, wonder how well they'd been feeding Irhya (feeding remained a dangerous topic to linger on), but he assumed poorly. And his blood wouldn't exactly be the best for her either, infected as it was. Then again, she was already ill, would it do more harm than what had already occurred?]

[omnicrafter]

[It's a good thing she is pulled along, because she does try to stop to consider it, just for a moment, in her addled state of mind. But by the time she realizes why they just have to leave them to their eventual deaths, they're long out of that room, anyway.

What can she even say to that? She poked the hornet's nest, knowing exactly what it was. Even as they enter the foyer and the last stretch to safety, she remains lost in thought, riddled with doubts. Her knees feel unsteady, and the only reason she doesn't sink her teeth into him right then and there is by suppressing the urge, curling her fingers into tight fists so she isn't tempted to try. It's not the time for that, it's not the time for that...]

They're not... going to come after us, right? It's done?

[unsundered]

[For a moment, he considers the option of reassurance, but it's a fleeting thing. Emet-Selch wasn't that sort of person, and anything too certainly optimistic would just be a lie.]

I don't know.

[Had the people running this cult escaped, all or in part? If they had, would they continue doing this same thing, once attention had drifted elsewhere? He had no idea. Would something like this happen again, if not for the same reason, and not by the same people? Almost certainly. However--]

For the time being... I'd say they're sufficiently distracted.

[Enough to not notice one missing miqo'te, no matter how much trouble she'd been.

That she was unsteady- he doesn't think to take it into account. Apart from the task of getting outside, he's taking very little into account, though with the way he hesitates in doorways seems to indicate a difficulty in remembering where to go. Muttering things that are mostly incoherent under his breath, he nearly backtracks several times, is distracted by the life- by Irhya at his hand- but despite it all, closes in on the exit.]

[omnicrafter]

[When they finally reach the outside, Irhya breathes out heavily and drops to one knee. In the slightly better light of the walkway, it's easier to see her injuries, and the ones that extend beyond mere cuts and bruises. Her ears look like they've been tipped, just slightly rounded off as if by a knife, though the cuts are oddly symmetrical for a torture injury. Her tail, too, lacks fur on the very tip, indicating it has either been burned or cut off. Just a small enough segment to seem insignificant; they may have been thinking to do it in pieces, or to save the rest of the tail for later. To say nothing of the raw red wound that peeks out from under the hem of her scant shirt, looking suspiciously like vigorous fingernail scratches...

She ducks her head, then struggles to her feet again. Truthfully, she just wants to collapse into his arms, but a part of her knows he probably wouldn't catch her. So she settles for glancing up at him, bittersweet.]

...Thank you. I... nnngh. Damn it all.