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]

[No, he imagines not.

Jaskier does give him an inch more of room when Brennan meets his eyes, if only because they're a little startling to gaze directly at this close. It's... different, with Geralt. He's known him for a majority of his life.

The bard nods, putting far too much effort into looking casual, the way he leans against the bars of the cage.] Theoretically. Whether there's some sort of barrier here or from what they'd done to me, I can't use it.

[Not, he thinks, that he'd be much help, with the sort of spells he knows. He hadn't put effort into learning things to protect himself. Funny. It'd all been to help Geralt, really.

He sighs.] The first time in my life I've ever wished for claws. Not that it would have changed things. [He picks at one of his fingers, the tips gone grey already.] They were trying to take my friend. A Turnskin. I was only in the way.

[outofthebreach]

[ Brennan just sighs, remaining where he is, and lets his eyes slide shut once more, since they seemed to unsettle the man at his side.

He listens, though, to the tale of how he was captured. Brennan's only glad Dorian hadn't been with him that night. If his lover had been trapped here as well... ]

Did he get away? Your friend?

[cointosser]

[The question gives him pause. All this time, he has only assumed Geralt had. What if he hadn't? No. He can't imagine Geralt was. (He can't afford to believe he was.) That portal was only strong enough to bring two people through, from what he can tell, and it still must have taken quite a bit of magic when he was unwilling.

And Geralt was Geralt. Gods knew kikimore couldn't bring him down. The'd only ambushed him to have a ghost of a chance.]

Yes. He must have. They only pulled me through their portal. [His heart eased itself. Geralt was safe. Yes, he must be. There was nothing he'd felt through the Bond that told him otherwise.] My Bonded, in fact. He's an obstinate ox. I can't imagine he would be so plucked up so easily.

[outofthebreach]

[ Brennan just gives a low chuckle at that. ]

I know the sort. Take that as encouraging, then. There's likely a very pissed off ox looking for you right now.

[ Which made him miss Bull, actually. Not that he wasn't sure that Dorian was going to bring down hellfire himself, should he find the trail. ]

[cointosser]

[The last thing he expects is getting any sort of reassurance from a man who'd been shoved into a cage with him, and it certainly shows in the drawing of his brows together and the surprised bite of a laugh that makes him groan after.

Oh. That smarts. The most wicked thing they have done was making something as innocent as a laugh painful.]

Sorry. I imagined him as an ox, and it was a lovely image. [That was... that was true, wasn't it? Geralt would be worried. And yet there were so many who would quite easily argue that Geralt gave not a single shit about him, but he'd felt it... if only for a moment, as that monster had gripped him and ripped him away.] He's a wolf. But he may as well be an ox. Or an ass.

[outofthebreach]

[ Brennan gives an amused snort at that, one corner of his lips quirking upwards at that.

Why is it always a wolf? Maybe there was just a type of person who drew that type of correlation. Which didn't say much for him, either, but he was trying not to think about that part. ]

At least a wolf will likely be smarter in his hunting. [ There's nearly no one better at it, after all. ] And ass he may be, but even a wolf's instinct is to look after their pack.

[ He does know that firsthand, in fact, and he gestures to the wolf ears that twitch above his head. He's got the tail, too, but that's currently tucked away on the far side of him and likely out of Jaskier's line of vision at the moment. ]

[cointosser]

[Jaskier looked over at Brennan in confusion, his brows drawing together. He wasn't exactly an expert on wolves, but he'd experienced them a few times in the wild. Mostly from behind Geralt's shoulder, after they had begun traveling together.]

His pack?

[He follows his indication. Right. A chimera. A bit of a canine to him, too. A wolf? A warg? Probably not a warg. Brennan was too handsome for that.] He won't talk often about it. What he feels from being a Turnskin. [He won't talk about what he feels at all, but that's besides the point.] Do you have... ah... animal instincts? Like that?

[Does he think of me that way? Jaskier has made fun of the idea that Geralt may howl at the moon, and certainly he's been with him when he goes to hunt, but he never really considered the... full extent of it.]

[outofthebreach]

Sometimes, yes. It comes and goes. Probably not quite as much as a Turnskin might be aware of them. I think having more than one set of instincts probably dilutes the overall effects of them.

[ He doesn't mind the questions. Although he's not sure he can give that much of an informed opinion, overall. He's still figuring this out as he goes himself. ]

[cointosser]

[Gods, that's utterly bizarre. But he does appreciate how upfront Brennan is about it. How refreshing. If only he were in a better position to take it all in. Hopefully there would be a time... outside a cage.

It's a project, after all, Jaskier has been sitting on, and he's not so sure how helpful it may be at this point. But it's a project to work on now, or -- or when he gets out. Collecting date on the Monsters.

He does like talking with them at any rate. And he doesn't want this experience to taint that.]

That is one of the strangest things I've heard. [He manages a wry smile. Even this conversation is exhausting him, as fascinating as it is. As it goes on, he suspects less that Brennan would be dangerous to fall asleep around. Perhaps even the opposite, if he's lucky.] And yet it fits with all the other strangeness around.

[He does have one more question, if he's to lose his fight with consciousness.] Do you like it? Being what you are?

[outofthebreach]

...'Like' might be stretching things a bit. [ Brennan's lips quirk slightly as he glances over at Jaskier at last. He notes the exhaustion, the tired drop of his eyelids. ] But I suppose there are worse things I could have been. I'm not sure I would have enjoyed being a vampire much. Or a fish, for that matter.

[ He shifts against the cage bars before shifting close enough to nudge Jaskier's knee with his own. ]

Rest. You look like you need it. I'll keep watch for a bit.

[ It's not like he can do much when they come for one of them, but at least being able to give warning when they do is something, right? ]

[cointosser]

The fish are nice. [He smiles to himself, remembering the touch of Connor's fins on his skin. Ah... he misses him, too. It's been so bloody long since he had a casual fling with someone who wasn't a Coven witch.] Beautiful songs. Enthralling, really.

[Not even metaphorically. It was possibly good that the merrow were rarer than most monsters, considering how easy it was for someone like him to fall under their spell. And even after that, he'd never explored a spell to fight it.

It'd been rather nice, really.

He glances at Brennan and manages a smile.] Mm. Offering me a shoulder? [You know, at this point, he wouldn't even turn it down. He slides down a little so he doesn't fall over if he does go unconscious. It's happened before.] You should, too. Before the next round.

[outofthebreach]

I'll take your word for it.

[ There's a chuckle in Brennan's voice, because he's all too wary of anything that compromises his control and senses. But he doesn't hold it against anyone else, obviously. ]

Sure. I've been told I make a good pillow. I've got to be at least softer than the floor in here, right? [ But he gives a crooked smile when Jaskier points out his own needs. ] Don't worry, I know how to rest while I keep watch. I have a lot of experience at it.

[cointosser]

[He returns the laugh, as quiet as it is now. Ah, fuck it. He takes the offer. He's not too proud (well, in some ways) and neither he the strength to avoid an honest-to-the-gods good sleep. He needs it.

So he takes it, leaning against the chimera's shoulder, at least keeping his arms in his lap lest the growths disgust him.

They disgust Jaskier, after all.]

I can tell you after several nights of experience, much softer. [He makes a hum to show he's still listening, but he's really not. Honestly, he's already out by the time Brennan reassures him he'll keep watch.

It's the perfect offer. He'd be stupid to not grasp at it.]