EVENT - THE BLACK CITY

[faileas]

Event Log: August, The Black City

A STARLESS SKY You feel like you're floating. Around you, colors and sounds and smells swirl as if trapped in a whirlpool, vibrancy and hue ever shifting. The more you watch them, the less solid they are; they only become clear out of the corner of your eye. The area around you begins to feel more solid as well, until your feet are on the ground, the taste of smog and fog heavy in your lungs - and you know one thing, and one thing alone: this is a dream, and an incredibly realistic one at that. Unlike the last time this shared dream happened, only familiar faces of your fellow mirrorbound appear around you; and unlike the last time that flavor of dream happened, those native to the city of Aefenglom are nowhere to be found. Instead, an impossibly tall wall raises in front of you; along it run small windows with people peering from the edges, arrows shimmering with the tell-tale glitter of magic peeking from the darkness, with more figures standing guard or patrolling the top of it. The wall itself is made of a dark, onyx-like stone - it's reflective in the smoothness of its bricks, painting all who look into it in clear darkness, and the effect is similarly found in the wide moat that surrounds the city, the faint sound of a river feeding into it the only thing to hear in the tense silence. Only one massive door stands as the entrance to the city, chains hanging across it with the protective runes of a barrier some of you might be familiar with by now. With a groan the chains begin to pull away, the door lowering across the moat as a bridge, and a party of Witches - for they must be Witches, the pins on their cloaks the same as those found in the Coven in Aefenglom - urges the group inside. Monsters find it easier to obey the orders - compelled to, even - but perhaps that's the safety of the city calling out to you, and nothing more.

I. THE CITY ITSELF While Aefenglom is known for its dusk-hued skies, made of lustrous pinks and purples and blues, this city is dreary to the core. The streets are covered in a perpetual fog, not unlike the city you hail from, but thicker, denser, tinged with the flavor of industrial smog from the factories whose spires you can see in the distance. Magitech lights - lanterns above doors, street posts, flickering in the windows you pass - illuminate everything throughout the entire day, as if the sunshine can't reach through the foreboding fog nor the onyx walls. Even the windows are barred, offering a paranoid protection against the outside world. Doors seem hardier, and each building is reinforced and protected in a way that may feel familiar to those that have encountered the protective magic wards. They're heavier, leaving an almost ominous presence that causes unease to hang just as heavy in the air as the smog. The people of this city are just as dreary as the streets, though they do mill about with the same frequency as any city. Unlike the citizens of the dead Aefenglom that were encountered just the month before, however, these are real, living people. They can be spoken to. They can be touched. They interact with wariness and caution towards the strangers that have been heralded into their walled in world, especially those that show what they presume to be monstrous traits. Because it becomes quickly obvious that the majority of the citizens that answer a call, a question, a touch to gain their attention... They're human. a. OBEY AND SUBMIT Monsters that can be seen on the streets aren't few and far between, however. Their presence is subtle, in the fog and amidst the passing crowds of passing faces, but they're there. On a surface level, most of them seem to be fairly at ease. Passive and unfazed by anyone that tries to interact with them, as if they're disinterested by their mere presence in a way that isn't reflected by their human counterparts. A closer look shows a strained pinch to their faces, a tenseness to their bodies, a glazed look just at the surface of their eyes. Too many attempts to interact with them will cause some humans to emerge from shops, or ask that you leave their business; these are the ones that are... employed, most often seen in the shopping and industrial districts. But their movements are almost robotic in repetition, and they never speak to anyone even when addressed - even when a keen eye might take note of the sturdy leather collars around their necks, reinforced by metal and with visible places to attach a leash. Some in the industrial district can be seen with these leashes, powerful chains to keep them attached to carts, to keep them from swimming down the river, from flying away and out of the black walls of the city. All Monsters present in the city are clothed, though it's the ones on the clearly decorative leashes with the more delicate collars that are the best dressed. They accompany humans throughout the city, the same placid blankness present much like their busier counterparts. These are the aristocrats and their so-called "Bonded," though implying the same tone one would take in Aefenglom here will net a deep set of disgust. Attempting to rouse these Monsters does very little, and may even result in them jerking away and cowering behind their human company. b. GOING ONCE, GOING TWICE At one end of the city is a massive pavilion, one made of the same stone as the wall, giving off the same oppressive foreboding. Humans come and go from this peculiar town square with a casual air, an intent the same as a stroll through the stalls on the market street. Because that's, essentially, what they're doing. Monsters young and old put on display to show their abilities and strengths, tasks that range from the physically demanding to performances of artistic abilities. Some seem to be just at the surface of awareness, their glazed expressions refocusing at times with a sort of strained fear that's visible even at a glance. Many don't even react outside of doing the tasks they're ordered to do, going through the motions as a barker speaks at length about them, their abilities, how much their labor goes for and what they cost. These Monsters are purchased by the humans of the city at each display, many of them never wearing more than their basic clothes and the customary collar, a chain to keep them tied to their station with a generous enough reach. Most come and go with very little struggle, but some... it becomes obvious that they've broken through the surface and are coming up for air for the first time in a long time. Wooden posts where the chains are connected can be heard splintering with the force of their struggle, metal bending under pressure, the anxious energy of something about to happen. But the fights never last long, as attendants wearing Coven pins on their cloaks swoop in to attend to the situation - and many dreamers might notice a familiar Witch filtering in and out of the events, speaking to the auctioneers before departing for another selling. It's difficult to recall their face later, no matter how clearly one saw it before, but one thing is certain: while not necessarily prim and proper, this person is someone with a steel spine and a sharp eye. And they saw you, just the same as you saw them. c. AT BECK AND CALL With enough observation, or perhaps even experience, it becomes apparently how this is happening: any command or order issued to a Monster is taken to the most literal, and Monsters have no choice but to obey. Many Monsters employed as workers are so deep in the compulsion that they won't obey any additional commands, unless it comes from the person they have this most warped "Bond" with. Others will accept commands from anyone, even the mirrorbound Witches that have come into their city. Even the most asinine command is one that they'd obey, and one that maybe even you'll obey, too. Having a friend playfully tell them to shut up? They're forced into silence until told that they can speak again. Told to jump off a bridge? Best make sure you specify that you don't want them to jump off of a very high one, if you really want them gone that badly. Handstands, cartwheels, jumping jacks - but also, hurting someone, hurting themselves... one has to hope the Monster in question has a strong willpower, or it's a command that goes against one that's already been issued to them. But something of note is that mirrorbound Monsters of Aefenglom will find that they're also effected by this, though they're better able to fight the compulsion. Those with weaker constitutions may need help snapping out of the command, especially as a powerful command will be painful to fight against, and Witches will have to watch their words. Take care that your friends, your peers, the strangers you've arrived with, don't find themselves attending the auction block - it's a very real possibility in this place, with an unknown Monster unattended and uncollared. It should all be harmless, though. After all, this is only a dream... isn't it? No NPCs are available for this log - unlike with the midsummer dream, they're nowhere to be seen. No Nessie, no Mhairi, no one. Which means that there's no one to counsel them as they find themselves exploring the setting, and discovering that they're just as susceptible as the people in the dream...

II. THE COVEN Unlike with Aefenglom, there isn't a proper Parliament. A little investigation will lead to the discovery that the Coven of this city is the main governing body, which may explain a great deal about why there's such a massive presence of magic here. Located at the center of town - all roads lead to the Coven, a massive stone building with sharp looking spires - the grounds are notable in that there's nothing even remotely similar to the Looking-Glass House that everyone has come to know, despite its secrets. Should one gain entry to the main building of the Coven itself, they'll find that all the mirrors are within. Their main focuses of magic, rather than the more broad spectrum/free-to-study policy that Miss Nessie encourages, are enchantment and abjuration - for control, primarily. They're also heavy studiers of runes, visible across the city and with an even heavier influence in the wards of the Coven itself. They are, regardless, fairly welcoming to eager young minds wanting to learn. So long as the Monsters are left behind. But who's to say that you can't disguise a Monster? a. STUDY TIME Those curious about the Coven's library are welcome to investigate it for themselves, the Witches all smiling faces as they usher their visitors in. But they'll soon find that they aren't really left to their own devices; a member of this Coven branch is practically around every corner, and while they try to be subtle about their observation it becomes quickly obvious that they're not there for their own studies. They're stationed around the library to ensure that their guests don't make off with any of their resources, or try to get into any forbidden sections of the expansive library. Where the Coven library of Aefenglom - as well as the Undermael College's library - plays devil's advocate, with accounts and studies conducted from both sides of the anti-Monster sentiment and attempt to expand upon outdated knowledge... these ones have a decidedly anti-Monster lean in every regard. Any attempts to find otherwise will be met with bemused amusement by the Coven members, and a note that they don't carry such things here. After all, they're certainly not Aefenglom. They would never carry anything that could put their citizens at risk in such a way. Nevermind those horrid Bonds that Bell goes on and on about - it's no wonder that they're always at odds with their government. If only they'd wisen up, hm? Perhaps these new arrivals would like to transfer to their branch, instead, to better guarantee their growth. b. THROUGH THESE HALLS If one manages to slip away from the library without having somebody tailing them, they'll soon discover that the chilled atmosphere doesn't simply linger in the city itself. The halls are cold, the runes unwelcoming unlike the homey feel that Nerissa Bell's charms offer. Certainly home isn't perfect - and there's no denying that the sentiment is shared by many - but the smiling faces of the Black City's branch are at odds with the feel of their magic, the caged in weight pressing down on everything, including your shoulders. The halls are dimly lit by flickering lights, enchanted lanterns with a constantly burning yellow-white fire. Plenty of nooks and dark corners afford even large Monsters the ability to sneak through the halls, should they be snuck in for better investigation with their peers. Take care, however; there are Witches coming and going constantly. An empty room might lead to a study, a classroom, a bedroom. Locked doors don't yield easily, even in a dream, and may need to be abandoned. But a terrible, foreboding feeling emanates from large double doors that are rigidly locked. Hushed voices speak from the other side, and it's almost like the cold feeling that spreads throughout the Coven itself finds its source behind those doors. Periodically, sounds of pain escape from within - but they die out to whimpers, then silence, before they can ever get too loud. A crisp voice speaks only one word, clear even through the wood and the magic: "Again."

III. THE DARK UNDERBELLY There's always more to a city than the streets that you can see at the surface level. If you're looking, it's not hard to spot the signs. There are runes that mark walls and cobblestone streets like graffiti, and a studied eye might realize that they're not the same sort that have subjugated the more monstrously inclined of the Black City. These are intended to dispel magic, and the moment that a member of the Coven notices it - it's swept up as soon as possible, scrubbed clean or scorched off with magic. People take to the streets in small groups, standing their ground and raising their voices above the muffled din of a foggy city. They carry chains and collars that have been broken, but many of them are undeniably human as they confront something that has so obviously become the norm. Break the chains! they demand. Break the spell! Monsters go missing from the auctions with a well-placed distraction - perhaps you're one of the individuals being freed from the pavilion, or someone that's realized that there are people coming and going through the crowds, wearing the same cloaks as the Coven but without their iconic pins, dressed as aristocracy, from all walks of life... smuggling the Monsters away at the first chance. a. PARTY TO PROTEST Not every uprising can be swept under the rug at first sign, however. Witches take to the streets, looking surprised to see the mirrorbound arrivals from Aefenglom - and it's not the same wariness that most would give them. This is the calculating eye of someone assessing whether the person they've met will help or hinder, and some of them decided that you're to be help. Enchanted slips of paper are pushed into hands, runes are taught as quickly as possible in a hushed whisper and explanation, locations given out to Witch and Monster alike with a word of caution. Use the paper on a surface, any surface, and you'll see. Use the runes to break the compulsion - you might have to do it twice, thrice, however many times it takes to dispel the magic. Don't be caught. Using the enchantment as instructed - pressing the paper against a wall, the ground, a post, anything - will result in glowing runes overtaking the surface. It's the same as the runes that are taught to Witches, used to ward against the magic in place just as much as it is to create a statement of protest. If one goes to a location that is whispered to them, they'll find that they've joined an organized protest. It's small in size, a mixture of Witches and unleashed Monsters. Due to the size and frequency it's easy enough to find them, but the guards are very quick in putting them down or hiding any traces of them from the public eye, despite the protesters' best attempts. There's nothing amiss in the city, and nothing for citizens to worry about. b. REST AND REGROUP But they can't find every source of the resistance. It isn't hard for dreamgoers to find themselves swept up by these protesters. Any help is welcome, and those that show an inclination towards helping the Monsters of the city - or their Monsters that they know, regardless people that shouldn't suffer this way - will be taken into the fold. Entrances to their secret routes can be found in places that are hidden in plain sight. A storefront tended to by a Monster with eyes in sharp clarity when they look up from their robotic work welcomes a group of people in and behind the counter, to where a hatch door is hidden in the floor. A manhole cover is pried up, where people are smuggled down below. A portal is prepared, a different and darker destination on the other side. They all lead to the same location. The sewers are vast beneath this city. Much like the labyrinth that many faced in the Midsummer nightmare, it almost seems winding, endless, and the water is cold when it's crossed. But even with the stank of the runoff, the musty and moldy air, there's never the sense of dread, of death. Instead, there are signs of when you're going the right way - runes that shimmer only when looking at them out of the corner of your eye, or when you know what to look for. Three stars together - sometimes overlapping, sometimes circling each other, but always three, and always five points. While they appreciate the help, the mirrorbound aren't invited in by the revolutionaries to the main hideout. But it becomes obvious by charm bracelets, necklaces, piercings, tattoos, embroidery and stitching on shirts; this symbol, and its presence, is integral to their world beneath the city. But many are welcome to mingle throughout their circle. In the sewers, the shops, the small park where a rune gives secret announcements to those who know where to look for it on the third bench, even the homes of people that certainly don't look like revolutionaries, let alone anyone that would be a protector.

Welcome to the Black City! As a reminder, this takes place on August 18th - or rather, 3AM on the August 19th, much like the midsummer nightmare. If you have any questions or need any clarifications, you can ask them here! And as always, while we do encourage you to use this log, you can feel free to thread things out on your own log or elsewhere. Characters are allowed to try and start fights in the city, create prompts based on the information given instead of using the ones given exactly, and poke their noses where they don't belong - we encourage it, actually. But regardless of what you choose, we hope you have a good time!

And as a final parting note: If a character dies in the dream, they'll simply reappear at the beginning rather than waking up like normal.

Comments

[proficience]

I. The City Itself

[This dreary atmosphere, this fog is enough to signify that trouble is afoot. At least it would be to a normal, well-adjusted individual, but to Dazai?

He's too far gone, emotionally, to care. He'd discovered recently that his appearance has changed, much like the first dream he'd had -- the dream where he'd reunited with Oda, the man he'd thought he'd lost for good.

Needless to say, he doesn't trust this dream. He doesn't trust this place, but he knows that he can't simply force himself to awaken. He'll just have to cope with his changed appearance and demeanor, instead.

Wandering around the city, his first goal is to find his friend. His friend who could vanish again at any moment, without Dazai being given the opportunity to say goodbye. He can't have that happen again; he can't risk it. He has to find him. They are bonded, so he feels a presence within, signifying that he's around somewhere, but where exactly?

You may find Dazai in a store, on the streets, in a park, or just pretty much at any public place in search of his friend.]

You.

[He'll try to get your attention.]

I'm looking for someone who may have the features of a minotaur. Have you seen him?

[He's banking on his theory of the dreams always causing their 'new' forms to emerge holding some truth. The strangers he'd tried to ask wouldn't respond, their demeanor so dreary and lost.]

I-a.

[Continuing to try his luck with asking these strangers about his friend, Dazai has eventually garnered the attention of a few humans who have left one of the shops. These humans seem to be -- robotic, almost, and it's eerie. Too eerie, and Dazai will attempt to keep talking to them as well as the monsters they have collared. Though, after some time --

He'll receive no information, and he'll be left with just a frustrated feeling within. Why are these monsters treated this way, anyhow? He is no longer human, so technically -- he could have suffered this fate. Even though he looks to be the type to appreciate a collar, he doesn't appreciate being forced to do something he doesn't align with.

Needless to say, he'll garner the attention of the closest individual who appears to not be in cahoots with these humans, and say:]

This is not what I'd expected here.

I-b.

[Slavery. This is also not what Dazai would have expected, and his reaction is akin to one of both shock and displeasure. This is concerning. He could be swept up and put on a pedestal to show off his vampiric skills for a chance to be purchased, and that thought is very off-putting.

He's not a saint, but he's not one to condone this kind of thing, either.

He can be seen watching the auction with his arms crossed, occasionally flicking the tip of his tongue across his fangs -- but if you call for him, he'll answer.

He also makes a mental note of that interesting witch... but not before he's taken and tossed onto one of those pedestals, tied up and offered for sale to the highest bidder. He'd put up a fight, of course, and his newfound vampiric strength did help -- if only to delay the inevitable.]

Oh, what a bind I'm in! I hope a very lovely lady with a lot of money rescues me~

[Mentally, he's calculating the best way to leave on his own.]

I-c.

[Dazai is a monster.

And he's put two-and-two together here. He could be forced to comply to any Witch's command. He'll try to avoid it, but he's either saved or purchased by a witch --

Who has all of the power in the world over him right now.]

Be gentle.

[He'll say this with a defiant smirk on his face. Give him orders. You know you want to!]

II. Wildcard!

[OOC: Want to free Dazai or do anything else? Plot with me! PM this journal or hmu on Discord, Celes#5178!]

I-b

[notawriter]

[There's no telling who entered the dream first, but Oda knows Dazai's somewhere in this dreary version of Aefenglom through the power of their bond. As Oda explores the city, the sights become increasingly troubling. He can't help the feeling that if he doesn't find Dazai soon, something terrible is going to go down.

...

After exploring the city for some time and noting some extremely worrying witch and monster interactions, it becomes especially urgent that Oda find Dazai. While he'd seen the gigantic pavilion earlier, he'd opted to stay under the radar and investigate areas of lesser prominence first. But now that he's doubling back, he sees his bonded partner.

Dazai!

Surely there's a way to rescue Dazai, Oda has to rescue him somehow. If only he could get just a little closer without attracting attention...

But then that witch, the one with the steel spine and sharp eye—Oda and that witch lock eyes for a moment or two or three. When Oda blinks, that witch is gone. It's startling enough for Oda to give pause and need to take a deep, stabilizing breath before carefully and very stealthily making his way toward Dazai.]

[proficience]

[Considering the nature of their bond, it should come to no surprise that Dazai starts to sense Oda's presence before he gets close; however, he's incredibly fatigued, thanks to the changes he'd undergone, and performing any action at all is --

Well, it's difficult. But he does, at least, manage to open his crimson eyes and glance around, in an effort to see if he can spot his closest friend. And he does; the sight of him alone causes Dazai to smile, but weakly.

If he isn't careful, he'll get caught, too. It's clear that monsters have a disadvantage here, and Oda is, unfortunately, a monster.]

Careful.

[This is all he whispers at his friend, as his eyes focus on a few other witches who are now looking his way. Is one of them going to buy his 'freedom'? He'd rather not be stuck with debt to anyone, save for his friend.]

[notawriter]

[He frowns slightly at the sight of the witches approaching to appraise the new arrivals—more specifically those eyeing Dazai. His jaw sets as they look his friend over. They're not quite admiring him so much as determining how to put him to work.

"Hahaha, watch this!" One of them says before spitting dangerously close to Dazai. Then turning to him, the witch commands, "Get on your hands and knees, and clean that up!"

Oda's stomach turns, his brows knit, his nose wrinkles, and his upper lip almost quivers in disgust. Still, having himself heard the witch as well, he struggles with all his might to not comply with those instructions even as his muscles twitch with the need to kneel down...]

I

[catasstrophy]

[Konoe had just about succeeded in getting over the monster stigma that comes with his natural appearance... and now here he is, in a city that would condemn him for it if given half a reason to. He's not a scaredy-cat by nature, but he knows he can only ever count on himself for protection, and in a hostile city? That's definitely enough to put him ill at ease. He's long since shed his hooded mantle for daily wear, but the first thing he does when he finds a quiet corner is to conjure up something similar, long enough to cover his tail, and heavy enough that it honestly is a little uncomfortable on his ears... but at least that means it hides their shape somewhat.

And so it's heavily hooded that he walks around the city, when he suddenly gets accosted. A minotaur...?]

... No...

[Okay, so this person isn't after him. That's good; he should try to relax. Forcing himself to shift his mood, he focuses on the other person, instead of his own pointless worries.]

Is he someone you know?

[proficience]

[Dazai can tell almost immediately that this person he'd accosted is trying to hide their appearance. Which is slightly concerning, since he isn't sure why anyone would feel the need to do so. Obviously, he'd just fallen asleep, so he had yet to see any of the current events going on in the city, and all that's really on his mind right now is trying to find his friend.

Whom he can sense, so he must be around somewhere.]

Yes. He's my friend from home. [He mulls for a moment or so, trying to decide if he should admit that his friend isn't alive in his world -- but he doesn't. Instead, he refocuses on this stranger's attire, still curious as to why he's dressed this way.]

Are you trying to hide your appearance?

[He'll yawn as soon as he asks that, since he's ridiculously low on energy due to his own physical changes.]

[catasstrophy]

[A friend from home... No wonder the guy wants to find him. If Asato or someone was here, Konoe would want to find him and make sure he was safe, too. (Rai, maybe not so much - but only because Rai would be fine no matter what.)]

N-Not at all!

[He pulls the cloak closer around himself, his ears swiveling aside under the hood. Never let it be said that Konoe is a great liar.]

I was just... cold.

[He can't even put any effort into saying that convincingly anymore: he just barely gets the words out, without any power behind them at all.]

ia

[bloodwit]

[ a smart choice, as viren, indeed, isn't in cahoots - doing his best to conceal any monster features he's developed as of recent. this means long sleeves, a high collar, hands held at loose fists at his sides to hide developed claws. ]

[ at least it's someone he recognizes, he supposes. viren affords the man a cool look, keeping his voice low: ]

And what is it that you expected, Dazai?

[proficience]

[Dazai, meanwhile, looks about the same. He'd barely attempted to conceal his appearance, though unless one were to look at him in direct light, he can do a decent job appearing human.

He honestly has no idea he was talking to Viren until he hears his voice, and he smiles.]

Ah. Well, I didn't expect to run into you here, Lord. [He lowers his own voice and gestures for Viren to follow him, so that they can talk away from the crowds.]

I was hoping that this place wasn't the type to resort to slavery.

[bloodwit]

[ viren's eyebrows knit together at the comment, although he follows as beckoned, repositioning a hand on his mage's staff to consciously curl over its end. he's even less assertive in allowing the solid tap, tap noise that would result from it falling against cobbled stone - to say he's on edge at being discovered would be an understatement. ]

... I believe they call this place "Dorchacht."

[ his frown deepens. ]

Even if it weren't, it's... [ he resists a sigh. even in aefenglom did viren have his doubts. ] —They would think of it as domestication, you know.

I-c

[futhark]

[ They haven't talked before, but Caster could swear he had seen this man on the streets of Aefenglom. Or maybe it's the strange draw to a mirrorbound that alerts him they're one and the same.

Either way, in one on another, he ends with this one dude, escaping the market, taking advantage of the ruckus created by someone else. ]

Tch, and what's that supposed to mean? [ Is that a complaint on being saved? ] Name one reason why should I—

[ Given that Dazai is being carried like a potato-bag, chains still intact with little consideration for his comfort... ]

[proficience]

[Dazai should be grateful that he was saved, and not left up on the auction block for days on end, but --

Being hoisted over this strangers shoulder, still secured by chains on his wrists and ankles, makes it difficult to feel anything aside from frustration.]

It means that I should have these chains removed, at the very least.

[He pauses a moment, since it's understandably difficult to speak in this position.]

I'm not much into chains. Bandages and cloth, sure -- but I'm not that kinky in the bedroom.

[futhark]

Patience, patience... [ Caster gives a pat to the thigh, once the kinks are being mentioned.

The whole trip might become just a bit more uncomfortable, because Caster casts a quick enchantment on himself, and— makes way too far jump, and then another one. Kind of unsure if they are being followed- if they are the sooner they get the tail off.

The better, obviously.

So he eventually finds a secluded spot on a roof where he drops his passenger. ]

Let's see what we can do about the chains, show me— [ So not only legs, but hands too? ]

i-c.

[rightfoot]

[ He feels sick. Just watching the way everyone is interacting as he is moving through the city is unsettling to him. And then, there's the looks. He can't hide, at least not effectively. His antlers get in the way. This is probably the first time he would actually wish for them to shed so he can just hide in a hood or something.

There's curiosity there, too. Others want to know how he is moving so freely and he knows it. Why he's not bound or tied down But he is, in his own matter, of course. Because all he can think of is the fact that he is prey. That he's felt powerless before. That he's felt like he's been there before.

So when he sees someone that he actually is starting to know. Someone that he would even say that he likes right there. It's even worse. ]

Hey, uh. Dazai?

[proficience]

[This has possibly been the longest day of Dazai's life, and he's not seeing an end to it anytime soon. He is, however, still awake, but just barely. The changes to his body have taken a toll on his energy levels, and it doesn't help that he hasn't had the opportunity to feed from anyone for -- well, for too long.

He blinks a few times, stifling back yet another yawn, and then finally focuses on who is talking to him. Those antlers make it very clear as to who this is, and he responds by smiling. The smile is weak, since he is physically weak too, but it's something.]

Louis-kun. Hello.

[His head droops forward just a little as his eyes close again.]

I've gotten myself in a bit of a --[Yawn.] bind.

[rightfoot]

[ Louis keeps a short distance between the two of them. Not because of how Dazai's changed, but because he's slowly learning he has some sort of control over others. And while there's some situations where he can see use to have that sort of power. He prefers people who want to listen to him or do the things he says. What good is an unwilling participant? What good is someone forced into it?

But then, there's the part of him that thinks of the worst parts of the Back Alley Market. The parts that remind him of where he came from. The parts that no one could fully protect him from, even if they wanted. ]

I can see that.

[ He says, as if that helps anything. ]

I'm going to get you away from this, okay? Is that okay?

[ Because honestly he can't think of another solution other than to try and get away. ]

I.

[silentsavant]

[Soren had been moving through a copse of trees and shrubbery bordering the park, comfortable with how the shade and muted colors blends his dark clothes, hair, and scales into the surroundings. He keeps his draconic wings tight against him. Of course, it doesn't camouflage him, but he's drawing less attention than before. Dazai's approach sets him on alert, red eyes striking him down warily, but after the first few seconds, he calms. This man... no, monster... means no harm to him. He came from the mirrors as well. People are out to get him almost as much as they might Soren.]

A minotaur...? Hmm. I have seen many horned monsters in this dream, but I can't say any of them looked quite like that.

[He has a feeling they have something in common— besides being monsters, of course. It's pushing behind this stranger's voice, something urgent even if kept restrained. Soren's gotten even better at sensing these things, and such empathetic acuity is uncanny, if not a little painful.]

He must be important to you. If I see him, I will let him know you are seeking him. But first, I would ask his name... and yours.

[proficience]

[At this point, Dazai wouldn't really be surprised if he'd actually startled someone, as his first goal in mind is to find the location of his friend. He's not particularly mindful of others and their own mindsets right now. He knows he's being selfish, but it's for good reason.

He sighs a little when the other man answers, even though he'd expected as much.]

Well, he may not be fully turned, yet. These dreams, I believe, are changing us a little at a time. [He'd read up on vampires, so he has an idea as to what to expect with his own changes. Many of which have yet to occur.]

I think I should have your name, first. It's only fair! [He chuckles, not at all concerned about this man, but still feeling the need to be slightly difficult. No matter how many changes he undergoes, he'll always be Dazai.]

[silentsavant]

[Thankfully, that's not too difficult to give, and there's no harm in giving it, either. He has a request of his own, after all. He nods once, dark, clawed fingers laced together.]

Of course. I'm Soren.

I

[dirtdevil]

[ to be completely honest, he wasn't expecting to garner anyone's attention here. he blends right in, after all—he might actually be more dour-faced than the citizens of this remarkably dreary town, human or otherwise. it's practically an achievement.

also, he's pretty good at being stealthy. ]

The fuck is a minotaur?

[ ...it's possible the mouth will give him away. ]

[proficience]

[That crass language sends an unpleasant jolt down Dazai's spine for just a moment, as it reminds him far, far too much of how his former partner liked to speak. So much so that he has to squint a bit just to ensure that he isn't the one right in front of him.

Because, if he were, then his day would be ruined.

Thankfully, upon squinting, he realizes that this is a completely different shorter man, and he relaxes. Though, he still should answer that question.]

A mythological creature who is described to be half-man, half-bull. I'm assuming that tales of them weren't told in your world?

[dirtdevil]

[ oh don't worry, Dazai, just because he isn't your old partner doesn't mean he can't still ruin your day. ]

Not at all. [ he pauses, briefly wrinkling his nose. ] ...Which half is which?

B/Cish wildcard

[hisui]

[For one familiar with a life in the dim underground, the gloomy atmosphere of the city doesn't prove to be much of an impact. However, the sensation of oppression in the shape of collars and suffocating "Bonds" that fills the streets is far from a pleasant one, be it real or not.

The fact that Nagare came to this show of ostentation and cruelty (under the guise of an auction) with a certain objective in mind made it slightly bearable. While he didn't openly join the revolutionaries in their cause, to say their ideals didn't resonate with him would be a lie. Although he is still a beginner at magic, he found himself agreeing to cooperating with them on whatever little disturbance he could cause without drawing unnecessary attention to himself. Even in case he is unable to completely break the spell by himself, creating the smallest ruckus is enough to buy time for some more experienced rebel to strike and successfully free an imprisoned monster.

In this particular situation, Kotosaka's help comes in extremely handy. As the parrot is reasonably small and nimble in flight, he is better suited to the task of carrying slips of paper containing spells. At the very least Nagare is thankful he can efficiently communicate with the parrot, even if his current knowledge of magic doesn't allow him to use the bird as a medium yet.

As he scans the area for the next planned target, the sight of a particular imprisoned, humanoid bat makes him halt in his tracks. Although he met the man only once, it takes him no time to make the connection between the large bat covered in bandages and the man who mistook him for a woman and treated him to a drink... or at least attempted to, with (supposedly) good intentions in mind.

Because Nagare never told the man about his avian friend, he deems it risky to assume the other will be able to make the best use of the unexpected help and escape in time. Plus, as the man isn't a planned target, it means Nagare will be acting on his own, increasing the likelihood of his novice spell-breaking abilities alone not being enough to break through the spell controlling the vampire. If he is to attempt to free the man without getting caught, he can only wait until the next distraction takes place to take advantage of the situation. As much as challenging the guards is compelling, Nagare is aware it isn't the wisest course of action.

Without warning, the rebels strike again, creating the diversion and drawing attention away from his target. As soon as that happens, the parrot flies up to the bandaged bat, carrying two pieces of paper attached to his feet. The abjuration spell is the first to be activated, temporarily weakening the control of the binding spell over the vampire. Followed shortly by the transmutation spell, meant to revert the bat back into his more human-like, vampire form, for a couple of minutes, at most. It should be easier for the vampire to mingle with the crowd and search for an escape route that way.

Nagare hastily makes his way behind Dazai's back, speaking just loud enough for the other to hear.]

Please run and meet me outside the pavilion.

[Without waiting to see if his orders are followed, he keeps walking until he disappears into the crowd.]

[proficience]

[This has been a miserable, dreadful day for Dazai, mainly due to his change in form. Sure, even if he were still mostly human, he'd have most likely been captured and put up on a podium for auction, but this strange form that he's currently stuck in is -- well, it's a mess. He feels out of place and uncomfortable, to say the least.

That, and he's exhausted; his eyes keep fluttering closed as time passes, and he begins to lose any hope that he'll be saved. However, when he hears the telltale sound of yelling, of a commotion starting to brew, his eyes pop open again and he watches, now very hopeful, to see what's going on. He can't see enough to know if he'll have the opportunity to try and break free, but he does see a parrot drop slips of paper at his feet.

This parrot must be quite intelligent, or the form of someone else who has been forced to change. Either way, after a few moments, Dazai reverts back to his almost human, vampire form, and his binds are loosened enough to where he can run.

He hears a familiar voice tell him where to go, so he does just that, figuring that he has no reason not to. The trek to the pavilion is long, or at least feels that way, but Dazai makes it there without getting caught. Thankfully.

He'll look around for the man he'd met and shared drinks with that one fateful evening, hoping that he eventually spots him so he can thank him for the assistance.]

[hisui]

[Because of the abruptness of the situation, the plan was far from fail-proof, so caution was necessary to get out safely. After the deed was done, Nagare didn't head straight to the appointed place, instead choosing to mingle further into the crowd before heading outside, as not to be easily tailed.

On his way out of the auction market, Kotosaka once again reunites with him, landing on his shoulder as usual. Nagare reaches up to touch the bird's head in a small gesture of gratitude. Were it not for his friend's help, this rescue wouldn't have gone as smoothly.

Before long, he reaches the outside of the pavilion, where he immediately spots Dazai. It's almost unbelievable how the man managed to get away successfully considering how the bandages wrapped around his arms make him unmistakable, and help him stand out even among the strangest looking monsters.]

It is good to see you have escaped unscathed, Dazai.