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

[twilightskey]

Yeah. Everyone else was always annoyed with him, but... well, I didn't mind it.

[Roxas listens carefully to Jaskier's explanation, and despite it being dark, he does have a small smile on his face. It sounds like a very free, fulfilling life to live. His tail wags a little bit as he listens.]

It sounds like a lot of fun. You must really love it.

[Which makes it even more heartbreaking to think of the bard here, trapped in a cage and being experimented on. He lets out a small sigh, his ears lowering.]

...we'll get out of here. I promise, we'll figure out a way to get out. Then you can get back to playing music again... and I'll come see you play.

[cointosser]

[It was the most he'd said since being pulled into that portal. Gods, he missed it already. (Because some part of him had already accepted there was not going to be a way back.)]

I did. I do. [He shifts, his eyes catching a small light from down the hall. A candle, perhaps? He catches, at least, a bit of Roxas now: the silhouette of triangular ears, and a shock of blond hair. A lovely color.

A shame he sees his ears droop so quickly. (No. It reminds him terribly of Geralt.) If anything, he grows a fondness for his cellmate even quicker. Roxas sounds so... completely normal. Not close to the sort that should have this happen to them.

Jaskier turns and leans his head back on the bars. He smiles at nothing, or at the dark itself. Lovely words. They float like light-footed music in the quiet.] Yes. I'll make a promise in return, to show you a real bard. [Arrogance? From Jaskier? Of course not. Well, normally, yes. But in the moment... no. Simply a promise.] Don't let them get you down, my friend.

[twilightskey]

[The candle is a welcomed addition, even if it's far down the hall. With even that faint light, he can see bits of Jaskier as well. Short brown hair, young-looking face, yet... Roxas would have to guess that his cellmate is older than him. Maybe closer to Axel's age?]

[He shifts to lean in closer as well, peeking through the bars as best he can. He nods once, solemnly.]

Okay. I'll remember that, okay? [Roxas took promises seriously; he'd find a way to get them out somehow, if he could. And once they got out, he would seek out the bard. Something to aim for, a goal to keep in mind to motivate them to keep trying. He had to hold onto something, at the very least.]

I won't. Don't let them get to you either.

[cointosser]

[A deep breath goes all the way through him. He's lucky, in comparison, that his lungs don't rattle the way he's heard from other cells. That he can still breathe easily at all.

Roxas is far too sweet for all of this. If it is trickery, well. Jaskier will gladly submit. At the moment, though, he has no energy to pick apart words or divine the secondary meaning behind conversations, if there is any at all.

Simplicity is preferable here. And it leaves the heart stronger.]

I'll remember as well. [Yes. He must. If only --

Jaskier sits up straight as footsteps echo down the hallway. Fuck. It doesn't mean they're coming for him, but for a terrible moment, he can only hope they're coming for someone else.] A promise, isn't it? [He can't smile now. The pain of his last needle prickling comes as acutely as if one is sinking into his skin now.] I'll make sure to bite one or two in your honor.

[It's mostly a joke. Mostly. But if someone comes here, looking for another test subject -- surely, surely, he will have the strength to persuade them to look past Roxas.]

[twilightskey]

[The footsteps echoing make Roxas go ramrod still, ears raising in alert. Much like a dog who's heard some distant threat. His eyes dart from the corridor to Jaskier, and a cold dread seeps into his voice.]

But... [His ears briefly lower, realizing what Jaskier is suggesting. But he's already been through so much... they all have. And despite the pain he's felt, and the weary ache from fighting against other Shades, Roxas's instincts kick in, urging him to protect, guard, protect his pack.]

[Jaskier is someone he's only just met, but he's been able to make friends off of short meetings before. A trait probably inherited from Sora, really.]

[So when the cult member comes walking down the hall, and lingers near their cells, Roxas stands slowly and leans against the bars of his cell.]

Hey! Why don't you pick on someone who can actually fight back??

[He has no idea if his jeer will work or not, but he has to try.]

[cointosser]

[If there was ever a time to be noble.

Yet Roxas beats him to it, surprising him. How little he hesitates. (How heroic he is without a pause.) Jaskier isn't quite conscious of how he's pushed himself to the back of his cage, cold sweat running down his back. Not me. Please. But not him. Not --

Fuck.]

Roxas, don't! [He kicks his bars, or tries to. The sound rings hollowly.] Don't. Not for me. [He pulls himself forward, the largest buds on his arm beginning to lightly glow.] If you came for more fun, you may as well take me.

[See? Noble. And. Fuck. If this doesn't kill him, it's a miracle. And it works somehow. The hooded Circle member turns towards him with a chuckle, the jingle of keys ringing in the dark. My. Eager to aid the Circle, aren't you?]

[twilightskey]

What? Jaskier, no!

[What was he doing?? He would get hurt! Well, they all would, in this awful place, but if he could somehow take some of that focus off of others who were hurt, tired, weakened... Roxas had fought hordes of Heartless before, he was already battle-hardened. Technically he wasn't even human. He could take a little more abuse for others, if it meant helping them.]

[But the Circle member instead goes to Jaskier's cage. His ears flatten as he grips the bars tighter, trying to lean out.]

Leave him alone!

[cointosser]

[Honestly, at this rate, what did it matter? It all felt like shit. He hurt constantly, he was infected -- and something about seeing Roxas's ears peel back, the bright light in his eyes, perhaps inspired him for a bit of his own heroics.

Or because he could not abide by the idea of anyone, absolutely, ever hurting a boy like this.]

Just let me do this, Roxas! [He can't see him anymore, not behind the cultist -- who looks delighted by this exchange, but not in a sinister, villainous way. More as if the very idea of someone willing to volunteer for more was a sweet melody.] I'll be fine. I always am.

[It's so easy to lie through his teeth these days. The cultist mumbles something to himself -- it sounds a bit like a chant, actually, or a song -- as his cage unlocks.

Despite Jaskier's words, every muscle in his body coils tight, his mind already screaming for release. Or for escape.

I always am.]

Can probably end things here?

[twilightskey]

Jaskier!

[In desperation, Roxas tries to slam his shoulder into the bars of the cage. But try as he might, the heavy iron bars won't budge. So Roxas is forced to watch as Jaskier is grabbed by the cultist and led away down the hall. His ears flatten against his head, but his yells do nothing to stop the cultist's actions. Nothing to help Jaskier's situation.]

[When the footsteps echo out of earshot, Roxas growls under his breath and slams a hand against the bars once more out of anger and frustration, before sinking down to his knees.]

[Not for the first time, he wishes he wasn't so powerless.]