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

Berserker (Cú Chulainn Alter)

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ 1b. Going Once, Going Twice ]

[ Berserker is one of the ones more aware. Tethered to a post, he is also one of the one's fighting against the restraints. Dragons are strong, but he knows better than to break the chain itself. He's seen the witch stopping the more willful monsters. He stops fighting and slumps against the chain, seemingly given up.

However, it's an act. As someone approaches, he lifts his head, his voice low. ]

Release me...I'll make sure you get out safely.

[ Safe enough, anyway. ]

[ 1c. At Beck and Call ]

[ Berserker has noticed the effect witches' words seem to have on the monsters here. None of them have bothered him, for an uncollared dragon is dangerous business, apparently. As he's approached, familiar face or not, they're treated with suspicion. ]

If you're going to make me obey you, at least make it interesting.

[ Berserker, no. Don't give them a challenge. ]

[ 2. Wildcard ]

[ Have an idea? Want to plot something else? Drop me a starter or message me here/on Discord at glitzkrieg#0673! ]

(( change log for reference! ))

1b

[rollfordiplomacy]

[Everett isn't a man of strong moral center, but even he knows this auction block is wrong. That said, he's willing to play his hand smart in this dream of a world. Underhanded, even.

To his good fortune, his monstrous traits were not grown in. He was easily passing as a Witch. He spies Berserker on the block and makes that his focus. After talking up a saleswoman, he'll be brought to "inspect" the dragon.]

Ah, yes, hmm. A tempting option. Strong as he looks? [The woman talks up the "goods" and Everett plays coy to his interest, acting the hard-to-get buyer. Sighing, he fiddles his his glasses some]

You've nearly convinced me, but I must see the paperwork. Will you fetch the necessary writing for my review? [the woman agrees and rushes off. Everett moves closer to Berserker to hear his offer, responding with a quiet, nervous laugh]

That's very good, because I did not yet have an exit strategy. [Everett's not going to buy him, he's going to pop the ornaments off his glasses, revealing that they are well disguised lock picks.]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ This one...Berserker knows the truth to his future appearance. At first, he's annoyed -- is he here to taunt him? Ignore his offer?

...Ah. Good. He'd hoped this wouldn't have to get messier sooner. To help conceal Everett's actions, he stretches his wings. It looks practiced, as though he's been told to do it repeatedly, to show off that particular focal point. ]

When you're done, pat my back. [ He keeps his voice low and his gaze forward -- drawing any undue attention to themselves would be very bad for them both. ] And be ready to hold on.

[rollfordiplomacy]

On the mark, sir. [Everett is mindful to body block what his hands are doing from view. He focuses on the lock, feeling about it expertly. He hums in recognition of the plan. Hold on tight, easy enough. Everett's flown on the back of beasts before, so he's bracing himself for what Berserker will do to help them escape.

He moves around to the man's back and the lock is ready to go. He waits to be in proper position. The lock with clatter free and he'll settle his hands on the man's back, pat pat. Smooth as could be! Let them get far away from here, as fast as wings can carry them]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ He hears the lock drop and readies himself for the coming signal. The moment Everett pats him, Berserker slips free from the chain and collar. Without so much as a pause to ensure the other man is secure, he runs forward and shoulder tackles a nearby witch. It's just a moment after that he manages to take flight, a bit of a struggle with the extra weight. He's determined, though, and his survival is on the line.

A beast reduced to a single instinct: survive.

To really sow chaos and to slow down anyone that might pursue, he spits out a thick, blackish mist below them...That's new. He seems surprised by that, but the poisonous mist does the trick -- confusion and panic breaks out through the crowd. ]

Are you still with me?

[ As if he has to ask -- he can feel the extra weight, after all. ]

Wildcard...lemmie know if you want to change it!

[showsnopiety]

[It seemed that this particular Witch had a taste for the strong and powerful. For she had not only purchased Beserker (which was clearly a terrible idea) but she had purchased Caren as well.

Something about how it would be 'delightful' to 'break in the new pets'. Caren hadn't really been listening to it too closely, having been distracted spitting out human blood from her mouth.

Now it was the two of them dutifully trailing behind the stupid Witch with her chirping orders to 'Follow her!'. Following to the very end it was comfortable on the leash at least in Caren's case. Her wings kept flexing in annoyance, and her finger flexing kept bringing her nails out showing them to be strong, curled to pierce into skin. Her fingers were bloody still. Still, she had to glance at her companion, using only her eyes.]

You don't want to stay with her, right?

[It was dicey. She thought he wouldn't be too into this, but...he also had his apathic nature working against both of them.]

works for me!

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Berserker, on the other hand, doesn't seem to be putting up much resistance. How is this any different than his existence as a Servant? Before coming here, he was nothing more than a tool for a mage to use and that seems to be exactly how he is once again. A different form, a different time, but the same purpose. He doesn't hang his head, but he doesn't fight the leash either -- it's now simply a fact of life.

He looks to Caren and shrugs. ]

I don't, but what does it matter? [ The pull the magic had over him was terrible to fight. It's easier to just go with it. ] If you want to fight her...I won't stop you.

[ The implication is that he might help her, if that's the case. Two against one would be better odds, plus the potential chaos it could cause. No matter what, Berserker is a force of chaos. ]

o7

[showsnopiety]

[She's not too surprised. It's frustrating, but she knows it's what he is, who he is. A warrior that's used as a means for an end-

God above it makes him sound like a burnt out movie cop or something. She blew out her breath, and rolled her shoulders. They ached, in part due to the oppressive atmosphere and orders, and in part due to the ache that was building up in her growing wings.]

It matters because I can't do this alone. I want to make sure she can't speak, and then we can take off, go somewhere else. Choke her, get her tongue-it doesn't matter.

[She blew a breath, her tail making small curving motions, before she forced it back down and limp.]

But I need your expertise. When will be the best time to attack?

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ He keeps his head and voice low. They're still too close to really speak candidly, so he's being a little bit cautious. ]

Fine. Wait for her to be distracted...or get her attention and I'll take care of her.

[ He's bored of killing, but he's nothing if not efficient and good at it. If Caren really wants to be rid of her, he can do it. ]

Or would you rather I be the distraction here?

1c

[loadme]

[She shakes her head.]

I'm not going to force you into anything like that. Being put in such a position is just wrong.

[Her usual cheer, the constant smile... It's not there anymore.]

I hate it.

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Berserker looks momentarily confused -- this is the same Monika he's seen time and again, isn't it? It's just a moment before he lets his expression settle back to neutrality. ]

... Why is that? I'm used to this. [ Servants were nothing more than familiars to be told what to do, weren't they? ] So...telling me what to do won't be any different.

[ He looks her over once more. ]

Why do you hate it so much? Where is that spark of life you had before?

[loadme]

[Is that what he really thought of her?

Was it really a spark of life, or just a convincing imitation?

What did it really matter right now?]

I think it's different if it's something that you choose to do. But if that very choice is taken away from you, then...

I've just had some bad experiences with that kind of stuff and it's making a lot of bad memories come back again.

[She then looks at him.]

But you still don't care, right?

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ ... ]

If I care, does it matter? As I said, I was little more than a tool for a mage to use before coming here. I shouldn't be anything more than that now.

[ And yet...It bothers him. He does care -- he's more than that now, isn't he? He has someone that truly cares for him beyond his usefulness as a merciless killing machine. He has people that consider him a friend. He has...a life. An existence that doesn't matter if he shouldn't actually exist.

He averts his gaze. ]

I never had the choice given to me. [ Not to exist and not to do as he wanted. Everything was in the name of survival. ] You're being given the choice to command someone as you please and yet you don't take it because of your own experiences...

[ He can't understand that. ]

Ib-ish

[long_live_the_queen]

[It wasn't a Witch who approached--or just one person. It was another crew of the pavilion's employees, dragging their newest acquisition to an empty post for assessment and later sale. This one was a Chimera, from the antlers on her head and the crumpled, seared red feathers adorning her arms. They chained her to an empty post across from the Dragon, and simply...left, chatting amongst themselves about frivolous things. Good places for lunch, where to relax after work, all things that didn't have the slightest relevance to the pavilion's horrors.

The Chimera they left there, hanging bonelessly from the collar and shack;es binding her long arms.

But she heard him. And she answered--a low, quiet, but unbroken growl. Her muscles still spasmed and twitched with the electricity she'd been struck with, but Kaede's reply was still clear.]

These chains are-- [the muscles of Kaede's jaws twitched, slamming the teeth together in a metallic click before she could pry her jaws apart again] --weakest to the left.

[There were stains on her clothes--some black, some the dried brown of old blood, and some the bright red of the very new.]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ This is one Berserker hadn't seen before. What a sorry sight she made, but he didn't pity her; someone who would fight so hard to end up like this didn't need pity. Her words don't go unheard and he winds his tail around the chain on his left side. He carefully stretches his wings as if to show them off when they're actually being used to cover up his actions. Even the muscles in his tail are strong enough for him to break the chain. ]

Can you fight? [ He asks as he lets his wings fold back again. ] Can you run?

[ He can carry her if not and fight for both of them, but he'd rather have a capable fighter with him. His tail slowly drops the broken chain -- his demeanor gave his captors the wrong impression that he's docile, only chaining him by the collar and nothing else. With that chain broken, he can help the chimera now, though he waits for a moment to avoid drawing undue attention. ]

[long_live_the_queen]

[The Chimera's ears twitched at the sound of the chain hitting the ground, but little else about her moved. But a small, hopeful thought stirred in her mind. Maybe something was finally going right in this comedy of errors.]

Not—not yet. [Her low growl of a voice was still full of unnatural tremors.]. Sh—shock lances.

[Having enough voltage to kill a normal human passing through her was, in fact, a bit of a bother. The wishful, violent thinking was still there, clouding out the reason in her thoughts. But Kaede's muscles refused to answer, prioritizing keeping her heart going and lungs functioning over tearing metal free with her bare hands. The spikes on the collar's inside edge pressed against her neck, further distracting her body from recovery. And the whole assemblage was metal—all a guard would have to do was tap the chain with a stun baton, and she'd be back to square one.]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Berserker waits for a moment before he approaches Kaede. While he could kill the guards with no problem, he'd rather not have to, if only because it would be an annoyance. ]

...Are you looking for someone? [ Idle conversation as he put his hands on the collar. The strength of a dragon is enough to tear it apart, but he also doesn't want to hurt the chimera. He gets enough of a grip on the collar to flatten some of the spikes to give him enough room to pry at it without harming her further. ] If you are, let your thoughts of them carry you.

[ That's part of what's driving him to escape: the man he's Bonded to. He will find Diarmuid or die trying. ]

1c

[definingfuture]

[Tony is still distracted by the city itself, just trying to figure out how much of this dream is real and if it relates to their other dreams. He's excited and eager to make sense of the puzzle, so he doesn't notice as quickly how off everything is. He wants to believe the best. Maybe some of it is forced optimism, but that is also Tony.

Berserker speaking catches him, and he can't resist the challenge. After all, he won't do anything terrible, right? This is fine.]

Well, can you smile? I think it'd be interesting.

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Of course Tony would be one to answer the challenge. Berserker resists for only a moment before he feels the effects of that resistance -- unpleasant, to say the least. He grits his teeth as he fights it for just a second longer.

And...as he's told, he smiles. It's not a natural smile and it looks weird when his eyes are still so cold. ]

There...Are you happy?

[definingfuture]

[Tony takes in the awkward, tense way Berserker grits his teeth and then pulls back his lips almost like an automaton, with harsh emotion behind the movement.]

No, not really. Was that really a smile?

[He expects the sour attitude, though, and it might actually help in the long run to be here with these strange rules.]

Okay, you don't have to smile. Tell me something important about yourself.

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ It relieved the symptoms of ignoring the command, therefore: ]

Yes, it was.

[ Berserker, again, seems uncomfortable with this command, the discomfort showing briefly on his face. He breathes out a sigh through his nose. ]

I'm not supposed to exist. I'm an aberration of a Heroic Spirit born from a selfish wish on the Holy Grail.

[ That's important. Depressing, yes, but important. ]

1b + wildcard

[futhark]

｢ ooc: I'm fashionably late ｣

[ The moment when Caster gets approached by the guards themselves as he enters the marketplace... ah, that's when he knows something is up. No explanations are given as they start to drag him somewhere. When he starts to fight back that's when force gets used at least until someone from Coven appears, attempting to dispel an illusion on him.

They get no results, and Caster is officially identified as a Witch and unhanded, to the confusion of some. Confusion of his own too, for this is not the public side of the building, more like a... prison, really. That's probably where they keep the Monsters before auctions. That's when he notices no one else but Berserker being held here, and it all clicks. Despite the differences brought by draconic transformation, someone must have noticed their resemblance. Probably assumed he is either the captive Dragon escaping, or his twin plotting a rescue in magical disguise.

It's a split of a second decision.

The guards along with the Witch present were urging him to leave quickly, and that would be the wisest of choices. Regroup, find allies, storm back. Naturally, he takes the alternative. Suddenly activating the runes imbued into his skin— his arms light aflame is a sight just shocking enough he's able to free himself from the guards and reach Berserker. Grabbing onto chains holding the Dragon — they might be enchanted, but they're still made of metal, and that he can heat. ]

Break the chains. Do everything to get away from here. [ Yes, he knows about the compulsion and orders— Even if it doesn't hold the power like a Command Spell would, it's close enough. ] Do everything to get us away from here.

[ He's doing it for Diarmuid, got it? And also, because mayhem ]

cw: blood, violence

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Berserker truly never thought he'd be relieved to see Caster. His will isn't broken -- far from it, but his body shows signs of abuse. Of course he put up a fight trying to get away from capture and it worked, up to a point. Without the unnatural endurance of a body made of magic and the other skills that prolonged his fighting ability, he could only last so long until his body gave out. He stopped fighting at some point to ensure his survival -- if he died here, it would be meaningless. The sight of his lighter side, though, brings that need to fight or die back to the forefront.

The command really isn't all that different from a Command Spell: it still sends a shock through him and the compulsion to obey is strong. This time, though, it's an order he wants to obey. He focuses his cold eyes on the witch's, a determination behind his glance. There's conviction in Berserker's nod in response. Something's changed...

He starts to pull on the chains with all of his strength, the heat from Caster's magic weakening them enough that they start to deform under the pressure. A low growl builds to a roar as he pulls forward, the chains giving way. Despite the damage done to him already, there's no sign of the fatigue that was there just a few moments before. ]

Go.

[ The guards who'd been stunned by Caster's magic activating come rushing over, only for Berserker to rush them. Any exposed flesh is torn to shreds by his clawed hands, their throats crushed or torn out by sharp teeth. It's brutal, it's merciless, but it's efficient. A frenzied beast with the command to do what it takes to get out of here, a command easily obeyed. ]

[futhark]

[ It would be an easy fight, had there be only the guards. These men and their measly uniforms, not even true armor offering protection, they stood no chance against Berserker's fury. Caster is right behind him casting an enchantment directed at his darker side— he doesn't need any more strength, his speed is also way above what normal humans could perform, that's why he chooses to enhance his endurance. It ain't battle continuation, but it might feel a bit like it. Newfound energy filling his limbs, the pain reduced to an echo somewhere far away.

It would be such an easy fight, had there be only the guards— but there is a Witch among them, and that's enough to throw a wrench into that plan.

Suddenly light fills the room and a command that can be only understood as "freeze" in several meanings of that word. It's not just a word, there's the magic behind it, an entire spell that causes Caster to stop. Paralysis spell so strong he has to fight just for breath. ]

I knew you spelled trouble [ The Coven Witch says in a shaky voice, wiping the blood off his face, he turns around then screaming ] Guards!

[ At that moment it turns out that the spell power is reliant on the spellcaster focus' once the Witch attention is elsewhere, the paralysis induced lessens. Caster directs his words to Berserker ]

Break through this— [ He says through gritted teeth using the same compulsion the local Witches uses to subjugate monsters against their machination. Swearing he could feel the sting of frost setting upon his lips, his limbs like ice and the cold piercing him to the core. But he can see his fingers and sees no ice building on them. ] This spell— 'tis but a suggestion. A lie— that magic forces you to believe in.

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ If anyone knows the kind of support Berserker needs, it's Caster. The relief of fatigue from the abuse makes it easier for him to kill, easier to run, strengthens his resolve. He will not die here, he will not die until he at least sees Diarmuid again -- he owes the Lancer that much.

But it can never be easy. He takes just a moment to wipe the blood from his mouth, smearing it more than anything, as he looks up at the witch. It's hard to move, painful, even, but he forces himself to. Most rational thought is gone, having given into his feral instincts entirely. Caster's words still reach him, the only voice that will reach him in this state.

Each step is harder than the last, but he's not stopping. An unstoppable force, driven only by the need to survive. He will make sure they get out of here or die trying -- those are the only two options. The witch's face contorts into one of disbelief as Berserker gets closer and closer, finally breaking through the spell through sheer force of will to pounce on him. ]