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

[silentsavant]

( even when he can feel the death of a bond like a ruptured organ, he frantically claws for ways to disprove its reality. soren seeks the cat-eared man with impossible strain as the sudden grief continues to crush him from within.

his mind veers, throwing off his sense of time and space. a clean and earthy scent soiled by the raze of armies cuts into the overwhelming tang of rotten magic. he thinks of a black knight, a silver-haired maiden. ranulf is, was, there, here, and in his growing despair, he clings to the only presence that gives him any stability, is making any sense to him whatsoever. )

Ranulf...

( it's as though with the breakdown of ike's bond, there's nothing stopping the rush of another to hurry and occupy the vacancy left by its destruction. it's him. ranulf. they're... they're bonded. the barrier once separating them has shattered, and soren begins to sense him there where their souls have been knotted all along. they're frayed. he's wounded in the same way that he is. more, even.

he can't stand it. )

I... I can't remember! Something's wrong, something's... ( he shakes his head as if it might dislodge the fuzz enshrouding it, or perhaps the bolt of agony that ripples through him as he copes with revisiting another distressing but life-shattering reality. ) Ah, Ike is...!

( the door splinters with another blow. soren's eyes flare incandescent, as if shooting fire at the mindless beast who dares to encroach, one of the mindless beasts that laid ruin to his future and intend to devastate what's left further. he begins to rise to his feet with adamantine resolve hardening over his damage and a low, inhuman growl rippling through his vocal cords at levels that inspire fear. )

[ranyaulf]

( he grits his teeth. that roar... every emotion that soren is feeling can be felt in it. it's even more intense when his bond seems to suddenly live again, a breath of life in what joins them together. that invisible link that isn't plugged anymore, no longer 'broken' but still... weak. withered but not dying, not decayed. it can be brought back, he knows it, and that alone gives him the strength to channel all he can into that sound. into that noise of pain and confusion and desire to protect and understand again and...

it makes soren louder. the roar, booming and echoing in the room. his teeth clatter from the reverberation. he can't even hear himself, not necessarily trying to intimidate the shade, but he's gasping for air. not crying. almost wailing. a sound that he'd be embarrassed to admit making in the future. but all he wants right now is for them to be able to see the next sunrise. see the next sunset. lean into each other for strength. overcome every boundary. and if that means pushing himself and forcing all the energy out of his body to do so, he'll do it... and he does.

tears leak from his eyes. he missed soren so, so much.

and when the pounding stops, of his heart and of the door, he can still hear the faint sounds of fighting... but it's not as close. they're probably safe, right? maybe? who knows if it'll return, but that's none of ranulf's concern. it's the fact that his body feels numb and he can't stand any longer, collapsing in a heap to the ground. )

Soren... I'm glad that you remember me.

( the saving grace is that, now that their bond flows strong again, that he can stay conscious. relief is what keeps him awake. )

[silentsavant]

( soren spares one final glance over his shoulder to his bonded. he doesn't remember. can't, not all the way. but his heart is beginning to recall the important parts.

this sub-human... monster? no, he's the monster. laguz. this man is important to him, and ike - not just ike, but soren - would hate to have him die.

sense is no longer soren's strong point as he's overwhelmed by the fire in his belly to avenge, to protect what's left. the washroom glows with the light of his transformation bouncing off the mirrors and tiles, the same hazy light ranulf once emitted, and the small form that occupied the space grows and shifts into a dark, dragon-shaped entity that busts a rain of plaster from ceiling, too, and blows apart what's left of the door and all the walls supporting its frame once he unleashes the blue flamelike surge of his breath.

after that, soren just takes to pulverizing whatever shade comes near with reckless abandon. breath, claws, teeth, tail. he rips and fires, blockades anyone and anything from entering the now dragon-sized hole in the wall, not heeding the danger for infecting himself when he's already been tricked and coerced into contracting it, when ike is gone now and it feels as if he's lost most meaning to live anyway. the foundation shakes with his fury. this part of the mansion is going to be toast... )