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Aion Mods ([personal profile] aionmods) wrote in [community profile] aionooc2022-02-13 02:00 pm

TDM #1

TDM #1
DREAMING
At first, there is nothing. You are nothing. Whatever existed before ceases to be if for a moment. Then, bit by bit, you start to become aware. Where there was not even darkness now is a dim haze, gentle and almost mist-like. You have limbs again and beneath your feet lays a path of light reaching out like limbs of a great tree beneath you, twisting and climbing out into the horizon.

You take a step forward for what else is there to do? As you walk you begin to remember what it was you were doing before the nothingness; maybe something as simple as chatting with a loved one or close friend. Maybe you were just beginning a great journey or facing off against an old foe. Whatever it was, you get the distinct feeling that wherever and whenever that was, it is not here. Not now.

The path of light twists off into different directions. When you look up you can see that it is not a sky above you but the sky of everything, a grand cosmic tapestry littered with not mere stars but galaxies and clusters of galaxies that gleam like crystals against the velvety backdrop of space. Admire it for a moment, if you will. You don't know how long you will drift here, but you are not alone. Other wanderers will come and go as you bask together in the vastness of creation.

It seems to you that there are two paths to walk in this place, the light and dark beckoning in turn.

THE LIGHT AT THE CENTER
One leads you to the center, splintered fragments folding together and colliding until only one thing remains: a light that speaks to you with the voice of all there is and has ever been. It greets you simultaneously as an old friend and as a lost child, both rejoicing in and mourning your arrival. You remember it too, somehow, with a feeling of complex nostalgia, as if returning to a place recalled from your distant childhood.

You’ll feel the same of the other wanderers that join you in the light; you know their faces, their voices, and as you reflect upon the world of your birth, you may witness fragments of theirs as well. You feel a comradery, then, a synchronicity of thought and emotion. Are the lives of others truly so different from your own? Or are you simply two hands of the same, greater being? Though some individualistic part of you may resist, the longer you spend in the light, the more you will find yourself becoming one with it.

Despite this welcoming call, no matter how eagerly your pursue its embrace, before you can fully submerge yourself in this oneness you will find yourself being torn away. As if seized by the impossibly long, cold arm of a creature unseen, you are plucked from the edge of fulfillment. The last thing you will remember is the sensation of your world, and all the others your experienced here, collapsing into nothingness.

THE DARK OUTSIDE (CW: deep despair, ego death)
The other leads towards the outside, where the splintering becomes so great that the vestiges of reality can do nothing but collapse back into the abyss at the end of everything. As you wander to these barren outskirts, your thoughts will not be drawn to familiarity and oneness, but instead to memories of discontent and waste. The darker the path becomes, the more you find yourself dwelling on life’s disappointments and injustices, of the things about yourself and your world you find wanting.

If you see others here, at first they will feel frightening or contemptible, as if representing to you the worst experiences in your life. Even if they are someone you’re certain you know, that familiarity and affection will be stripped away in the face of the great emptiness before you. In the end, you were all the same. In the end, none of this was worth it. If you approach the end together, you may even form a kind of kinship around this acknowledgment, as the need for paranoia and hatred fades.

Slowly, the darkness encroaches, and you can see it devouring all the things you once knew. Memories of your home, of those you loved, dissolve into nothing, and you can only reflect on the barren emptiness in your heart as you see it happen. In your final moments, though, you feel peace with it all, knowing that there was no other way. You step from the edge of the last dwindling fragment of being and are greeted by silence.

THE END
No matter which way you go, you are left with a single impression: you feel the world you came from die. It's a realization that transcends logic or sense; it weighs on your heart and leaves the vestiges of dark memories dancing in your thoughts like motes of ash. It's a memory of your home crumbling away into nothing as if consumed from within by rot. Returned to the void, all that's left to you is to be reborn.

REBIRTH
In a new time and place, you awaken. Stirring within a capsule of warmth and isolation your senses will slowly return, only to observe that you are trapped. Your body, as it wakes, is tangled in close, yours eyes unable to open, as if still within the womb. You are held tight in the embrace of something unyielding, so smothering that at first you only have the strength to struggle for moments at a time. Yet, as you persist, the pressure begins to relent in turn; it may take hours, but eventually you will find the purchase to push, to claw, to fight, and it will all give way.

The chrysalis surrounding you bends like flesh and cracks like glass. It tears as you force your fingers through, finding liberation one inch at a time, until finally you have emerged. As if having undergone metamorphosis, you feel old and new all at once. You are weak, piteously so, but the markings and scars of your previous life remain. As you slump down upon the smooth cavern stone, you realize that you've just wrenched yourself free of gigantic crystal, though its hollow, shimmering form is now in pieces on account of your passing. Somewhere on your body, a shard of similar material remains embedded.

The cave itself looks almost like the inside of a geode, the walls and ceiling bedazzled with greyish crystal that shines with all the colors of the rainbow. While they vary wildly in size and shape, only a few have grown large enough to hold a form like yours, and you can see the one you just escaped isn't the only one bearing a passenger within. They may have already hatched, or they may still be lingering in stasis. Either way, there's enough time that you may have a chance to speak to yours unexpected peers, or to perhaps to struggle to find something to cover your naked body with. You feel the chill of the open air against your moisture laden skin, a distant light trickling in through the cavern's opening.

Make the most of this time. It won't be long before you're interrupted.

[Mod Note: If you don't want to deal with your character being naked in front of the others at that location, feel free to assume they emerge at a different time than the others of their legacy. Characters will be 'hatching' over a period of several hours.]

CAPTIVITY
It seems that someone was waiting for you to arrive, and not in the most friendly of ways. Though the specifics of who comes to get you will vary according to which legacy shrine your character awakens at, there are certain commonalities: most notably, how they are ostensibly here to capture and imprison you. It's easy for them, all considered. You can barely stand, so fresh out of your chrysalis, and whatever powers or special abilities you may have had will not answer your call. Even worse, your would be captors are well equipped for the job.

Each group arrives with several 'whips' made of unknown materials. What makes them so special only become obvious when one of them inevitable snakes its way around your body. Whether it be your ankle or your neck, being bound by these cords puts you under the influence of whoever is holding the other end of your leash. Your mind remains untouched, but you will find yourself physically incapable of performing physical actions that go against their will. While the possibilities are frightening, thankfully they all just seem to want one thing: for you to come along as a good little prisoner and to not cause any of them too much trouble.

The rest depends on your character's legacy:

THE LOVER
The small island the shrine is built upon is approached by several modest boats with colorful sails. They carry what appears to be a collection of fearful fisherfolk and town guards. They are reluctant to speak with those being pulled out of the shrine or even look them in the eye. If they have their choice, the entire process will be done in silence. If you try too hard to upset them, the guards will sternly bring you to heel.

THE CELEBRANT
The infrastructure of an entire festival ground seems to be built around this shrine, and as a result, there are an usual amount of people present. While most keep their distance, a few will engage with the local guards that arrive to capture the Aions, complaining that this is going to interfere with their preparations for the upcoming Lover’s Festival. They are pushed aside in short order, and the rest of the retrieval will be done in a stern but business-like manner.

THE MARTYR
At first, those arriving to capture the Aions will be hesitant to even enter the barren crater this shrine is held within. Once the presence of the new arrivals becomes clear, however, they will run in as if crossing the no man’s land of a battlefield and complete their work with gusto. It appears to be mostly military folk and they seem to lack any patience or sympathy for those they capture.

THE SOVEREIGN
The captors here seem to be a mixed bag, almost as if two separate squadrons have arrived at the same time. One is a gathering of people who give off the impression of mountain folk, while the others are well armored soldiers. Though it will be hard to make out the specifics, there seems to be some manner of disagreement between these two parties over what should be done, but the ones kitted out in full military attire win out in the end. By then, they are completely out of patience for further resistance.

THE ARTISAN
The people here seem to have mixed feelings about your arrival. On one hand, it seems to be a moment of considerable trepidation, on the other, they seem unbearably curious about your nature. They will ask questions about any unusual features you have, or what your skills are, while others from the group try just as hard to shush them. Ultimately, they don’t seem that enthusiastic about having to capture you, but they also don’t seem to think they have much choice.

THE INNOCENT
Among rolling hills of flowers, at first it seems as if this shrine may not be visited at all. Before the arriving Aions can escape it, though - naked and weakened as they are - a group of fairly normal looking townsfolk will arrive. They pause as they spot you near the shrine, almost like they are hesitating about coming at all. In the end, they will converge upon you and ask for you to please cooperate. They won’t hurt you, as long as you come with them.

THE SEEKER
Armored soldiers are the ones to first pull you from the shrine, but as you arrive outside of it you'll see that it is situated at the edge of a great forest. An ancient observatory is build into the cliff face behind the shrine, and your captors are apparently in the process of negotiating with a series of robed individuals that have emerged from it. According to them, the soldiers kidnapping you are trespassing. Unfortunately, they are not the ones with weapons.

THE WANDERER
When you first emerge from the shrine, it will appear as if you have just missed a skirmish. There are a few bodies scattered about, all wearing woodland armor made of leather and fur. The victors, it seems, come in the form of fully armored soldiers. Thoroughly irritated by the fight that just happened, they will not waste time on niceties. If you try to ask them what just happened, the best you may get is a sneer about ‘those damn forest people.’ You may spot a couple more bodies on the trail leading out of the forest as well.

THE FIREBRAND
The first thing to be seen beyond the cavern entrance is a sheer drop into a raging canyon river far below you, with only a narrow path leading up the steep cliff face. It would be a difficult situation, even without black-cloaked warriors making their way down it to collect you. Struggle too much and you'll be at risk of being thrown into the chasm. These masked assailants are largely unmoved by your protests and will drag you the entire way up the cliff if you force them to. "Your soul will be claimed," they say.

THE VISIONARY
The view from the mouth of the cavern is awe inspiring, revealing the foreign shapes of a world you've never seen before. Unfortunately, the altitude of this shrine means you will also be greeted with sharp wind and biting cold. Fortunately, or not, a party of mountaineers and three black-cloaked warriors will arrive to collect you. Despite their seeming inability to defy the orders of the warriors, the mountaineers will toss you some shoes and blankets for the trek down, even if they are taken away from you later. If the warriors speak at all, it's mostly in the form of ominous utterances.

THE CHAMPION
Even if one were to stagger out of the shrine's cavern before being approached, the Aions arriving here will swiftly find themselves in a hopeless situation. Not only are there soldiers here to collect there is a moderately sized military barracks built around the shrine itself, and this particular squadron is not on your side. You will be swarmed before you can get far at all. There seems to be a mix of two squadrons here, some wearing heavy armor and red accents, while the others wear full face masks and dark cloaks.

Once you've been captured and pulled from the shrine, you will given a formless white gown made of moderately comfortable fabric, with sleeves reaching your elbows and its bottom reaching down past your knees. You will not be given pants or shoes. You're in for a journey, apparently - no matter who plucked you from the cave, most of the heavily armored soldiers in the prompts above will turn out to be 'Hylician soldiers', while the smaller number of black-robed warriors are referred to 'Achamites'. After the initial dealings with the shrines, all prisoners will be passed off to a squadron of Hylicians, though a few Achamites may follow along depending on the location.

Where are you all going? Back to Hylici, apparently.

WAITING
After you've been handed off to the the Hylician military, you have a long road ahead of you. Loaded up onto carts, and then eventually onto river borne boats, the people collected at the shrines will all be brought to a forest in the center of Horos. Along the way, the squadron ferrying you will combine with others from neighboring shrines, more and more captives arriving in your group the closer to your destination you get.

Along the way you will be fed and watered well enough (though only with military rations), and at night you will be given flimsy bedrolls to sleep around the fire with. Captives will be under constant watch by the Hylician guard, and anyone who shows any signs of resistance will be required to be bound by one of those magic whips, usually around the ankle or wrist. The rest of the trip is spent being pulled along in carts or the storage bays of boats. After the groups start converging, captives of the same legacy will not necessarily be kept together.

The final muster point of the Hylicians and their captives will be among forest ruins. For what purpose you have arrived they will not say, but the entire group will be camping there until preparations are complete. Sadly, you won't be allowed much space to explore - not without being bound and under watch. If you've behaved yourself it's possible to move about the central ruins, but only if the guards are confident they'll be able to wrangle you when necessary. It does allow for moderately private conversations along the pillars and walls of the ruins, but venturing out into the forest itself is definitely out of the question.

From beginning to end, characters will spent about two weeks in transit and waiting in the ruins. To what end is yet to be seen, but if you listen closely, you may hear whispers of a 'ritual space' being prepared.

QUESTIONS
Are everyone's homeworlds really gone?
That's a complicated issue, and while the fate of their world is not without hope, they may certainly get the impression its been destroyed from the dream they had. Alternatively, they may refuse to believe what they felt and attempt to dismiss it as only a vision. More about this situation will be revealed as the game goes on.

Can I only experience one end of the dream sequence prompt?
Characters may experience one ending, both endings, or neither. If they experience both they will struggle to recall which came first or which feels the most 'true' to them, as both will simultaneously be the thought they are reborn with. If your character refuses to pursue either path they can simply linger in the middle until the infinite worlds above them start being extinguished one by one, eventually expelling them into darkness in a similar style to the light prompt. Which dreams they experience will not dictate their intial sect affiliation.

Is it possible to pull another character back from the end of the light or darkness dreams?
Yes! If your character is able to resist the pull of either end, they will have the chance to try to pull another character back from the edge of the abyss or the edge of oneness. Whether or not they succeed is entirely up to the other character, though.

Do you come out of the chrysalis wet?
For most intents and purposes it's the same experience as hatching out of a real butterfly chrysalis, so yes, a bit.

Can my character resist the influence of the whips?
Those possessed of particularly strong wills may be able to struggle with the whip's control in brief spurts, but not long enough to make a full escape attempt. They may be able to take an impotent swing at one of the guards or fight against being pulled along, though. Naturally, doing this will indicate to the Hylicians that you are a problem, and their handling of you will become harsher the more it occurs.

How cruel will the Hylicians be to the player characters?
The Hylician military are not friendly people and come across as being a bit callous even at the best of times. However, unless you provoke them, they will be primarily focused on just getting the job done with as few interruption as possible. If your character makes a habit of pissing them off, either by constantly fighting back or just by being persistently obnoxious, their treatment will get worse. If driven to it, they may take the opportunity to take out their frustrations on particularly troublesome prisoners, via physical punishment, humiliation, or deprivation.

aquaveiled: (himeka-359)

iii

[personal profile] aquaveiled 2022-02-13 10:30 pm (UTC)(link)
The journey isn't forgiving, though Himeka is arguably more inclined to behave herself after a while. The lack of magicks at her disposal is a big factor as well, so she occupies most of her time by watching the scenery and the other captives with her. The soldiers are more difficult to read, but they seem to be willing to leave well enough alone as long as you don't start a ruckus.

Of course not everyone agrees on that. It would only be too fitting that once the group from her shrine has coalesced with another that she would see a familiar, albeit battered face. As they're being ushered into boats, Himeka does a double-take. She knows that man.

"Estinien!"

For how quiet she's been since her capture, she suddenly breaks away from the group of Wanderers towards the boat that already holds her friend.
couriering: (pic#13740908)

i wave my paws at you (iii)

[personal profile] couriering 2022-02-13 10:30 pm (UTC)(link)
[ he's been laying down, flat on his back, wondering exactly what the hell kind of situation he's gotten himself into. the past days have been a blur of mostly nothingness--- picked up from his shrine, escorted, practically couriered (ha)--- and to be in such a position and unarmed?

let's just say that he's fortunate that he knows how to be a quiet and invisible presence when needed, but unfortunate in that his charm hasn't completely worked his magic.

at least his bedroll smells nice. right? maybe that's why they keep him around... ]


We're in trouble.

[ that's his answer and he smiles. his patented grin, his default expression as he sits up and props himself up with his elbows. ]

How about you?
coerthantorment: (94)

THANKS

[personal profile] coerthantorment 2022-02-13 10:31 pm (UTC)(link)
It's clear when Estinien has locked himself down, focusing inward rather than facing the indignities of the world surrounding him. Being so constantly observed would be hard enough on him, even if he weren't getting himself beaten by his escorts. The anger and humiliation coils inside of his chest like a snake, waiting for any moment to lash out with its fangs.

He's been thinking more and more about how he might kill these men, were he to have only a moment of freedom, a fraction of his strength returned...

And yet, the voice he hears has the rare effect of triggering the opposite reaction. Instead of reacting with violence and anger, he feels those days of defensive scales shift and fall away, if only for a moment. It's her. She's here.

"Himeka," he says, his expression softening from that sullen mask in a way that is quite telling. He tries to take a step towards her, but immediately runs into resistance from the enchantments on the bond. He looks on helplessly.

"What hell is this?" he murmurs as she gets closer. He can't be imagining it.
aquaveiled: (himeka-340)

3, adding to your pile

[personal profile] aquaveiled 2022-02-13 10:36 pm (UTC)(link)
A long day indeed. And despite her uncanny ability to fall asleep wherever and whenever she deems fitting, Himeka refuses to let the shift from day into night usher her onwards. That so many should be gathered here as well is equally a point of interest and concern, and she has never been one to sit idly for long.

She makes her own rounds about the encampment, mostly keeping free of the ire of the guards stationed. But she does take pause as one hunched over and familiar sticks out amongst the rest. The way he lays out his bedroll would be comical if the situation were less confounding.

So she does what anyone would do when confronted with a once-enemy-turned-friend-turned-enemy-returned friend (frienemy?) after being literally hatched out of weird crystal goop and captured by a team of cantankerous soldiers only to be transported to some unknown spook ruins.

She plops down adjacent and waits, just for a moment.

"Accosted by a group of soldiers in the forest while covered in dubious goop." A beat. "The same as you, I would imagine?"

Of course his presence there brings several new questions to mind, but...one thing at a time.
salvageable: (pic#15332057)

kim dokja, omniscient reader's viewpoint | the martyr

[personal profile] salvageable 2022-02-13 10:37 pm (UTC)(link)
I. REBIRTH
[ There's nothing all that enjoyable about being chambered inside of a chrysalis and then having to break out of it. By the time Dokja tears his way out, he's exhausted, limbs shaking with the effort to pull himself across the cavern floor to then sit and lean against a nearby wall. He's distantly aware of the creaks and cracks of other crystals around him, but his dazed eyes drop down to his scarred fingers, counts each one, notes the length of them, before he curls them in and tucks his hands against his bare chest.

He's powerless, like when he'd taken part in the Old Story, but maybe weaker than then. And there's an emptiness in his head that he can't grow accustomed to, a constant searching that goes unanswered.

The Wall isn't there.

It's then that he fixes his gaze on the nearest person to emerge from their own crystal, watches as they struggle in the same manner he had just moments before, and realizes these are all people who must be experiencing the same thing as him. ]


Hey, [ he calls out to them as he tries to stand and finds that his legs won't cooperate with him, like they're brand new. Even so, he takes a few stumbling steps toward them before he crouches down to grab at their shoulder—More to stabilize himself than anything. ]

Did you have that same dream? The one where your world died?

[ Geez, Dokja, let them catch a breather first. ]

II. WAITING
[ He moves because it's the best way to get his strength back. Well, not the strength that he's used to, but the one that lets him walk without feeling like a newborn fawn. Dokja's cooperated for the most part, having taken those who refuse to do the same as an example, and that's allowed for him to venture about somewhat freely. He has a guard following his every move but they leave him alone so long as he stays within an allotted perimeter.

And he does. Kind of. Every now and then he tests how far he can go before quickly stepping back the moment the guard looks ready to cut in, and that's given him an idea of how much he's allowed to push.

When he comes across another captive, he's quick to lean down and offer a hand to help them up. ]


Take a walk with me.

[ He's got much to ask. ]

III. WILDCARD
( if you want to throw something different at me or want me to throw something else at you, go for it and/or let me know! you can pm me at this account. )
judicatus: (♞ back turned)

gabranth || final fantasy xii || the martyr

[personal profile] judicatus 2022-02-13 10:38 pm (UTC)(link)
i. dreaming
[ when the last of his vision fades to dark, so too does the world around him fade to nothing, leaving only the ache of his battered, broken body — an ache that gradually descends into cold, colder still, leaving no comfort in its wake save that of oblivion.

but this oblivion does not lead unto eternity. though his senses remain dulled, blunted by what should have been a sure death, gabranth yet sees a light before him, and a path he cannot help but follow.

home, says the feeling newly burgeoning within his breast. home is here, it cries in desperation. only one place has ever been home to gabranth — to the man once known as noah fon ronsenburg — and it burned so, so long ago. but the scent carried on a sudden breeze is unmistakeable, as is the rustle of unseen leaves; if he stretches out his hand, he feels as though he might grasp something of his homeland. ]


Where... [ but is that the question he truly wants to ask? ] Why?

[ why, he asks of no one and nothing in particular. nothing save the light before him, or perhaps another at his side. ]

ii. rebirth
[ though gabranth's body is slow to wake, all at once does the sensation come crashing down upon him: the overwhelming crush of his surroundings, blinding and overwhelming him in turn. this cannot be the embrace of death, he realizes; it would not cling so tightly.

he fights, and he struggles, and he perseveres — and ultimately he wins free, punching through the outer shell and tearing it apart until he has enough purchase to pull himself from the chrysalis. he gasps for air, his lungs burning from the effort, and stumbles forward to collapse upon the cavern floor. his limbs shake from an exertion he hasn't known in many long years; he can scarcely catch his breath before he lifts his head to better look at his surroundings.

crystal, in such multitudes that he cannot help but wonder if he hasn't ended up in the afterlife after all; crystals of all shapes and sizes, some broken and glistening, others with shadowy shapes moving inside them. after a moment of stunned, gawping silence, he looks down at himself, to check for any evidence of vayne's assault — to check for the evidence that he had been killed — and while he does find a number of scars that were most certainly not there before, he also finds something rather more surprising than that.

gabranth raises a still-trembling hand to the crystal now embedded in the dead center of his chest — just where he'd been struck by one of vayne's many magicked blades. had it left something of itself behind in his flesh? had the blow been so strong as to send him elsewhere, far from the sky fortress' reach? what is happening? why is any of this happening?

though his legs still shake, gabranth slowly, steadily pushes himself up to his feet, leaning on another crystal formation for support as he goes. a cold draft suddenly bites at his damp flesh, and only then does he realize his nakedness — but he can't let himself be preoccupied by such a thing, not when there are too many questions burning inside him. he needs to find someone who knows what's going on, and he needs to do so as quickly as possible. ]

iii. waiting
[ it hasn't been easy, biding his time for so long as a prisoner in captivity, and that difficulty is evident in the purple bloom of healing bruises up the side of gabranth's face and along his jaw. still, all the better if his guards are lulled into thinking he's learned his lesson...for now.

he's careful in his exploration of the ruins, never straying suspiciously far out of sight as he gradually commits the space to memory; he marks well each pillar, each crumbling structure and the lines of sight they block, to what little he can glean of the woods surrounding them, to which path might afford the least obstruction on a blind run. he's careful — but he can't afford to be too careful, as he learns when he hears of a ritual space and can only wonder what might follow after.

so he bides his time, and keeps a keen eye and ear out for any potential allies. he waits by one of the ruin walls, leaning back against the weathered stone, eyes closed as though he might be napping, and waits for one of his fellow captives to draw near. ]


We haven't much time remaining, it would seem.

iv. wildcard
( got an idea for something else? feel free to hit me up at [plurk.com profile] futuristics so we can chat about it! )
bearshermark: credit: <user name="morninglight"> (luminary's light)

[personal profile] bearshermark 2022-02-13 10:39 pm (UTC)(link)
Eleven nodded, smile sobering somewhat. An impression of a great tree hanging over the world passed from what felt like more than just his mind.

"It doesn't feel as though we're trapped here."

He reached out a hand toward the light. "I think a soul could rejoin the flow of Life if it wished to."
Edited 2022-02-13 22:40 (UTC)
lockedon: (pic#14244915)

all's fair in love and war................mostly just war tbh

[personal profile] lockedon 2022-02-13 10:43 pm (UTC)(link)
[ So it's back to square one then. Unsurprising, given everything. He sighs again through his nose, less entertained this time and more tired. Patience he might have in spades, but only when there's something to be done other than stand around and twiddle his thumbs.

If coercing their unfriendly guards is out and running is out, what does that leave them with?

He resists the urge to rub his temples, opting to close his eyes momentarily instead. ]


Hope you like waiting then.

[ Possibly until their impending doom. ]
goldendeceiver: (god knows you put your life)

ii. waiting

[personal profile] goldendeceiver 2022-02-13 10:46 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Ernesto hasn't been testing his own boundaries quite the same way, but he has been watching what others are doing. He doesn't need to see how far he can go before the guards react, because there are plenty of other people who seem willing to do that instead. He's always been pretty good at waiting and scheming, and his hefty pool of patience has really been coming in handy right now.

He's seen this man before too, and noticed he's one that seems to be testing the guards. It makes him a little wary when the hand is offered, but Ernesto isn't trying to make any bad blood between himself and his fellow captives.

So he takes the proffered hand, and hoists himself up.
]

Something I can help you with?
coerthantorment: (120)

waiting

[personal profile] coerthantorment 2022-02-13 10:48 pm (UTC)(link)
[Something about Nox's particular wording gets Estinien's attention, reaching past his exterior of sullen quiet. It's clear that he's been trying to escape, by the bruising on his face and the blood still caked along his nostrils. The 'World of Twelve' seems to strike him as familiar, even if it's unknowingly an incorrect assumption on his part.]

Quiet.

[He's angry, but only because Nox is putting words to the exact thing that's been on his mind this entire time. He felt it happen. He saw it all melt away, while he did nothing to stop it. And yet... he's still here... and yet...]

It's not over. It couldn't... [Not after all they'd done, all they'd fought for.] ...With all that's happened, it could just as easily be some trickery of the mind. Would you truly be so credulous?
goldendeceiver: (to make your own demands)

[personal profile] goldendeceiver 2022-02-13 10:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It's definitely a hell of a way to enter a scene, but Ernesto wasn't any more graceful. He's not about to give anyone a hard time for it. Is there a charming way to bust your way out of a gemstone cocoon? Probably not.

The return question earns a bark of laughter.
]

Not a clue.

[ Ernesto reaches up a shaky hand to try and rub some liquid out of his own ear as he looks back up at some of the currently unhatched chrysalises with the distinct silhouettes of people inside them. ]

I can't say I'm getting a good feeling about this whole thing though.
Edited 2022-02-13 22:53 (UTC)
affal: (108)

🐾💖

[personal profile] affal 2022-02-13 10:53 pm (UTC)(link)
( just as courier had been going through the motions in the last few days, makoto had been keeping an eye on him. when not trying to extract information from their captors and their prison (trying to force blood from stone, for the most part), he's been observing those around him. his pale eyes are appraising, weighing individuals both in personal interest and how useful they may be in the long run. for this stranger... there's something about him. for the obvious: he's caught sight of dozens of scars cross-hatched across his body, telling him he's survived enough battles to know his way around one. for the less so: he moves with a competence and an alacrity that makes makoto think he's good for more than just a fight.

only foolish demons treasure strength above all. the gathering of knowledge, an iron composure, the perception of power... these were all far more important. that's why he speaks to courier instead of some other musclebound idiot.

makoto grins widely at his response. from where he sits cross-legged on his bedroll, he makes a sweeping gesture to their surroundings with one hand before replying, )
I would've thought that obvious enough even without what I just told you.

( he's either not thinking deeply enough to needle at what type of danger, or he's keeping that information to himself. the former would be a disappointment, but the latter would make him interesting. for right, now he doesn't press him on it. )

I'd say... I have three questions. ( he raises one slender index finger. ) Why us? ( another joins it, ) Why here? ( and a final third. ) And why now?

( he gestures to courier. ) What does your instinct say?
afewstraythoughts: (27)

Hythlodaeus | Final Fantasy XIV | The Martyr | Endwalker spoilers all up in hurr

[personal profile] afewstraythoughts 2022-02-13 10:54 pm (UTC)(link)
I. Dreams of Eld - Light
[At first, all Hythlodaeus knows is peace and light. He walks, as most others do, because there is simply nothing to do but go forward. There's no rush, no anxiety, nothing but the nostalgic feeling of being somewhere he is supposed to be. He walks for what feels like an eternity, knowing nothing but that blanketed peace and the light.

But then, there are other lights. Dim and bright, a myriad of different shapes and colors, flickering in and out of the light all around him until his eyes learn to focus anew and he can begin to see them a little clearer, can see the color of souls as they move along these paths of light, much like he is.

He sees, and he begins to remember, as well.

Fire in the skies, abominations born from magic and devouring their creators. Death and chaos, fear the likes of which his people have never felt. He has to wonder, as he walks along that path of light, if perhaps he was taken by the calamity that fell upon his people. If he had lost his life and returned to the world as aether, if this is the path that comes after souls make their journey into the Underworld. And if it is... what of his purpose? The very thing he devoted his entire being to, the safety and continued work of two people precious to him-- if he is here, should he be?

That thought is the first that gives him pause, has him stopping in his seemingly endless journey into the light, standing in the middle of a traveled path with a hand on his chin, frowning as he lets himself lapse into thought, something within him clawing almost desperately at that cloth wrapped around his mind and keeping him in this floating feeling of peace. He was not meant to leave the world without ensuring that Emet-Selch and Azem's purposes would also be completed, and if he retains this level of self, has he truly returned to aether? Or is this that "light at the end of the tunnel" that he needs to choose not to go into?

Someone bumps into him, another on this path of light, moving ever closer to the warmth of nostalgia at the end, and Hythlodaeus looks up, sees familiarity and kinship, and he smiles. He must have been meant to pause at that very moment, since he is sure he was meant to meet the person in front of him. What else could this feeling of nostalgia and belonging be?]


Apologies, my friend. I suppose I should have moved to the side of the path, rather than simply lapsing into thought in the center.

II. Awakening
[It takes Hythlodaeus a long, long time to come to. The quiet of his dreams, the familiarity within the light-- it proved almost too welcoming to truly leave. But slowly and surely, he finds consciousness returning, awareness of the strange restriction around his body, the way he can both breathe and not breathe all at once, the way he feels as if every inch of him is being held firmly in place without the strength to even tense his muscles in order to break free...

He may be moderately used to being more helpless than his peers, but never has he felt this weak.

It takes time and a fair bit of effort, but eventually the tensing of his muscles gives way to the faintest hint of movement. A wiggle, a lift, the space around him becoming more and more bit by bit until he has enough room to shift his body just slightly, just enough to be able to push from his feet and thrust forward with his hands, the shell around him cracking slowly and steadily until his hand breaches through.

From there, it's slow but steady progression, the break increasing until he can get his other hand up into the gap, prying at the crystal encasing him until he can manage to get his head free, taking in fresh air in nearly desperate gasps. He works until he is able to free himself enough to stand within his strange prison, sliding his hands carefully through his hair to squeeze out the moisture covering him from head to toe, looking around at others who are at the stage he is, to those who have already pried themselves free, and those whose prisons are still and soundless, or those who have even the faintest of cracks on the surface.

Finally, his eyes fall on the person nearest to him, one hand waving in exhausted greeting as he does his best at giving a gentle smile.]


Hello, there. You wouldn't happen to know where we are, would you?

III. Respite
[Hythlodaeus doesn't consider himself an overly suspicious person, but oohhhhh what's happening to them is really testing the boundary between curious observer and untrusting skeptic. Waking up in an unknown world? Curious. People coming out of nowhere and rounding them up? Not unheard of in the world outside of Amaurot, so... curious. Being marched on and gathered with more groups of people in some ruins with the whisper of the word ritual in the air?

Well, that's where he has to draw the line.

Not that there's really anything for him to do, for now. He's managed to avoid further restrictions by playing along and being pleasant. He's kept his tongue in check and done his best to follow orders, watching and observing and learning all he can about their captors and their intentions. Sadly, he hasn't gathered much.

Which is what brings him to his current situation, sitting on his thin bedroll tucked as far behind a pillar as he can be - the closest he could find to privacy. Well, as much privacy as an abnormally tall, pink haired man can really get.]


Hmmm... [Hythlodaeus lets his voice escape him, aware of those around him, but not specifically calling anyone in particular out.] What to do, what to do....

IV. Free For All
[Want something different? Have a cool idea? Go ahead with it!]

[ooc| action-spam and prose both welcome! i'm brushing off the rp dust, so i might be a bit on the slow side. feel free to DM or message me [plurk.com profile] speedstering with any questions!]
Edited 2022-02-13 23:21 (UTC)
aquaveiled: (himeka-320)

2

[personal profile] aquaveiled 2022-02-13 10:54 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Just when she begins to think that they have collected all, another group joins the last. Her own from the northern forests and joined with another band from across the river a few days prior. She had hoped that in this trek towards a new forest would be the last.

Mayhaps it will be, but to what end?

She finds herself shuffled along this new coalition of the robed and lost. Himeka stumbles as she's shoved into the group by one of the soldiers, colliding with the man just to her left. ]


Oof!

"Keep it orderly!"

[ The guard admonishes.

Himeka shakes it off and flashes the man apologetic smile. ]


Sorry if I nicked you.

[ The gowns they have been afforded may not do much, but the large spike-like scales at the base of her tail are not the most comfortable when jabbed with. ]
lockedon: (Default)

rebirth.

[personal profile] lockedon 2022-02-13 10:55 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He claws his way out of his chrysalis with deliberate but forceful movements, breath caught momentarily in his throat before it's expelled in a small bout of coughing, body shuddering as he lands on the cold ground.

There's a sheen of slime glistening across his skin and his hair is plastered to his face, but in the wake of everything that's happened - everything he remembers - he can't be assed to care about appearances in the here and now. Dimly, he can hear other noises echoing around him, the dull squelch of chrysali being torn apart and the faint trill of voices, but nothing registers until he feels the weight of something against his shoulder.

His reflexes are sluggish and his muscles weak, but he manages to wrap loose fingers around the other man's wrist, eyes narrowing as he focuses on the face that swims into view. ]


Get off me.

[ Wow, don't be an asshole, Eustace. Good thing he's about as threatening as a newborn baby right now. ]
goldendeceiver: (your broken records and words)

cold, bruh....

[personal profile] goldendeceiver 2022-02-13 10:58 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Ernesto can't blame the other man for the clear frustration. This is a pretty tricky set of circumstances they're finding themselves in, and Ernesto's not liking the odds much himself.

He wishes he could have given a better answer, but no point in being disingenuous with someone in the same boat as him.
]

"Like"? Not particularly, but I am pretty good at it.

[ Long games are another specialty. ]

Though my guess is if we see a chance, we're better taking it than waiting too long.
salvageable: @isa_yfn712 ⇾ (pic#15331093)

[personal profile] salvageable 2022-02-13 11:06 pm (UTC)(link)
[ What's there to be wary of, friend, this is a face you can definitely trust...

Dokja lets out a dry laugh because it's really all he can do at this point, letting go of that hand once the stranger is up. He's beyond confused at literally everything going on, and his heart sits heavy still with that dream from before. ]


It's just lonely walking around on my own.

[ A lie. He normally thrives in being alone, but with how little resources he has available to him here and the guards as tight-lipped as they are, it has to be the other captives that he turns to for information. ]
lockedon: (b009)

what can i say, i love a little murder

[personal profile] lockedon 2022-02-13 11:07 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Just two canine bros, both in it for the long con.... JK they're definitely not bros.

He doesn't reply immediately to the sentiment, eyes opening so he can stare at the guards once more—or more specifically, at the whiplike weapons carried in hands and resting by their waists. His lips, already tilted in a permanent frown, tug downwards even further. ]


Only if there's some way to disable their weapons.

[ He's no whiz with technology and even less of one when it comes to magic, but maybe this guy is a more adept hand when it comes to both those things. ]
coerthantorment: (93)

[personal profile] coerthantorment 2022-02-13 11:13 pm (UTC)(link)
How much his actions convenience this particular man is not at the top of his priorities - though, the conversation does allow him to get a better look at the man's face. One telling feature is that third eye, the mark of a Garlean. In the past, he would have had a sharper reaction to that. It still does make him a bit suspicious, but in a somewhat more value-neutral way.

"Garlean," he says, latching onto the one thing he feels sure of. "You felt something. Did you? A dream, before we woke..."

He doesn't know whether to hope it was just him.
intermingled: ([malagraphic]OKWhPBT)

2

[personal profile] intermingled 2022-02-13 11:14 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It's a thought that had crossed Spock's mind as well. ]

Pacifism has limits in its effectiveness in the face of a determined antagonist.

[ His voice and face are neutral thanks to a lifetime of practice, but he can't say he wants to go with these people. There is no circumstance where being stolen away at gunpoint is a good thing, even without the previous circumstances of how they woke up here. ]
salvageable: (pic#15423511)

O_O he

[personal profile] salvageable 2022-02-13 11:14 pm (UTC)(link)
[ These are familiar vibes and maybe that's why Dokja is entirely unfazed. Well, that and the many questions swimming through his mind that make it hard for him to really concentrate on anything beside his own confusion. He does at least let go of this stranger, slipping out of that grip to let the man do his own thing.

Dokja remains crouched down next to him, though. ]


Sure, I get it. You probably need a second or two.

[ Mentally labels this one a jerk. ]

But you heard my question, right?
lockedon: (030)

[personal profile] lockedon 2022-02-13 11:18 pm (UTC)(link)
goldendeceiver: (for yourself tonight)

[personal profile] goldendeceiver 2022-02-13 11:20 pm (UTC)(link)
[ That sounds like an excuse if Ernesto ever heard one, but he won't call him out on it right now. Besides, he's curious about what this man who has been testing the guards might have found out, and a nice walk might take them outside of the hearing range pretty quickly. ]

Well if that's all it is, then I'd be happy to oblige, Señor.

[ He gestures for the other man to lead the way, though not before cutting his gaze over towards the ruins at the center of their little camp.

Ernesto has already found that the guards don't tend to wander into those ruins.
]
coupris: (take me away everyone)

Kim Kitsuragi | Disco Elysium | The Martyr

[personal profile] coupris 2022-02-13 11:20 pm (UTC)(link)
I. REBIRTH

[Kim really thought Revachol had more time.

Not much, certainly, with its collapsing infrastructure and economic shambles, even while on life support from the Moralintern. Still, he'd hoped to allay that end as long as possible, or to at least stand in tacit defiance of it. To protect Revachol's people from the worst of it, somehow. He'd promised himself to make it to seventy, as little influence on that outcome as he might actually have. His willpower accomplished more than he thought it would already.

Now, though, standing at what looks like the edge of the universe, he can only fall to his knees in awe, pushed forward by the deep sense of loss settling in his chest. Not just Revachol-- everything. Was it the Pale, suddenly advancing? He'd expected a fiery end, nuclear, more than likely, in the repetition of past revolutionary mistakes. The cosmic spectrum above him, though, looks like neither. It's too beautiful to be the end, to take the lives and dreams of billions and shatter them into crystalline nothing.

A voice slips into his ear, faint, but familiar enough to jolt him back to his feet. It's the voice he would pretend not to hear on the wind when standing near the sea, the voice Harry told him isn't him, a woman, a concept-- La Revacholiere.

Kim stares down the two paths, the weight of grief in his chest magnetizing to the dark, but she says again what he pretended not to hear in the abandoned Martinaise church:

Stay vigilant. I love you.

He steps towards the light. Her voice is soon joined by others as space and the darkness fade away. Harry, the people of Martinaise, his comrades in the RCM both alive and dead, and the smallest sounds of what he knows in his heart are his mother and father, the whole history of the Insulinde beckons him to finally lower his guard and rest. Kim doesn't realize that he's no longer walking, as much as floating through light, as tears well up in his eyes. Everyone seems to reach out with one hand, and just as he reaches for it, brushes its fingertips, another, cold and giant, wraps around him like a vise. The voices go silent, and Kim replaces them with a strangled yell of despair as something drags him away.

The scream is still in his lungs when he awakens, but his mouth won't open to release it. White hot panic spreads across Kim's body as he twitches every muscle, only to be met with rock solid resistance.

Somehow, he could still breathe through his nose, and with that scrap of a chance, Kim starts to struggle. Bit by bit, the pressure around him starts to shift, until his arms are able to push away whatever is around him. With more space to move, he can better reach forward, though it takes a mind numbing amount of time until his palms brace against a smooth surface. It doesn't seem as malleable as whatever he dug through so far, and Kim claws at it in desperation. It splinters between his fingers, then finally gives way to what feels like cool, open air.

His arms are already exhausted, but Kim blindly beats and tears until more of the smooth surface starts to collapse. He can just hear the dull sound of what could be glass shattering, followed by a sudden rush in his ears as the pressure as everything above his waist spills out of the hole he's created. He gasps as his senses are returned all at once, trying to regain some of his strength so he can pull his legs free.

It's a quicker process with his hands free, but the silence around him makes it just as torturous, until he slips out of crystal and falls to the cold, hard ground. Without his glasses, anything more than a foot from his face is a blur of vague shapes, though a milky beam of light catches his attention. He tries to at least crawl forward, but the exertion of escaping the crystal causes him to sink back into a heap after moving more than a few steps. His chest heaves, but he still manages to tense up at the sound of anything moving nearby.]


Who's there?

II. WAITING

[Kim had fought like a starving, stray cat when the military arrived-- which he only recognized by the sound of their boots. Once the whip wraps around his neck, however, he knows he was in deeper shit than he first imagined. Though he considers biding his time for a later escape once he's wrapped in a robe and thrown into a cart, the sheer number of other of both troops and captives gives him greater pause. Rash actions were out of the question if they would endanger others.

As the journey goes on, he still can't make out much of anything without his glasses. When he stumbles or goes in the wrong direction, the overseers merely jeer at him or push him back where he needs to go. Kim holds his stoic front as valiantly as he can, but these were the depths of humiliation-- the sort of thing he had nightmares about as a child.

That orphan's resilience, however, allows him to share his rations with those who clearly need it more, and to lend a sympathetic ear to anyone else nearby. When they reach the edge of the forest, Kim looks out at the vast, blur of green, any admirable details completely lost on him. As others marvel at the ruins, Kim just squints.]


Quite the view.

III. WILDCARD

(Hit me up with whatever you'd like, or PM me if you want to hash something out!)
Edited 2022-02-13 23:23 (UTC)
lockedon: (b030)

[personal profile] lockedon 2022-02-13 11:23 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Did he hear the question? Sure, he's got ears. They might be filled with goo but they work just fine. Is he going to answer the question though.......now that's the million dollar question, isn't it?

Instead, Eustace stares, eyes unblinking as he lowers his hand back down and stabilizes himself against the ground, taking in what little of the surroundings he can see and hear. More importantly, taking in this stranger crouched in front of him. He's also naked and shaky on his feet. There's no malicious intent lurking in the shadows of his face, and his voice seems kind. But appearances can be deceiving and Eustace has never been prone to trusting easily. His ears flatten ever so slightly atop his head. ]


Who are you?

[ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ]