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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.
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.
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.
v3. and there was only one bedroll
To be offered nothing, however - that is twice the insult. It would seem that no one is particularly troubled by the realization, if they have realized it at all, and there is absolutely no effort made to correct what is so egregiously wrong.
She is adamant in her refusal to acknowledge this great indignity even when it is clear that no apology or recompense is forthcoming. Seated, she begins to wonder with mounting dread if she will in fact be left to make a terrible nest of grime and dirt and stone. Then, at the sudden sound of a voice addressing her, she looks up, her displeasure vivid on her face.
She is not only addressed, but offered exactly what she is lacking: a pale imitation of a featherbed. Her gaze cuts in cold judgment down to the man's hand, and she resents him at once for holding forth this awful piece of bedding instead of a sword. And even if she has now what she should have had at the start, it is still a great deal less than she is owed, and she glares her disdain at the stranger whose ill-fortune has placed him beside her. ]
Do you honestly think I am going to sleep on that repulsive thing? I could have you killed for even making the suggestion. [ As if it had been her own idea all along to nobly refuse the humiliating accommodations. As if some part of her is not at this moment yearning to lay herself down on even this wish-thin piece of... cotton? Wool? It does not bear thinking about. She is only certain that it is most decidedly not silk. ]
omg yes
... Not much luck. Matt's not great at reading people. There's arguably more he gives away to Cersei than he gets in return, from the honest puzzlement in his wide hazel eyes to the gentle lines of his face to the hairline scar arcing across his left cheek--faint, but visible at close distance in the flickering firelight.
He tries to think of what to say. "Of course I won't make you take it if you don't want it"? "No need to get mad, we're all in this together"? Those would all be understandable, perhaps. But no, Matt's just crawled out of a crystal egg and he's probably about to be thrown into a volcano, and also everyone he knows is dead, he thinks? So what comes out is a curious: ]
Huh.
Who'd be killing me?
[ He feels like honestly, this lady could probably choke the life out of him without working up too much of a sweat. ]
this poor man
But he is not the warrior she has been yearning for. He is little more than a squire, if he is anything: he is made of gentle lines, there is sincere confusion in his face, and in that same face there is a striking lack of deception. He is, it would seem, truly bewildered by her refusal of his gift, and for a moment this has the sole effect of infuriating her all the more.
Who would be killing him? Her headsman, if he were here to be summoned. Any of the knights who routinely flank her when she walks from one end of the keep to the other. Any half-trained hound, if she'd had one to inflict upon him. Her brother, the king, a hired sellsword; she has none of these things. If would have to be her own hands put to the work of eliminating this hapless stranger, and she has no taste for blood on her own fair palms.
She reaches to petulantly shove the bedroll forward against him, wishing she had a piece of brilliant crystal to throw at his impossibly honest face, and wears thin what few threats she can brandish. ]
The king, when he hears how you've insulted me. [ Or, she must now consider, the lord of this place, whoever he may be. She has already resolved herself to the fact that he must be ingratiated to her. Until then, she is expected to craft her own weapons, it seems.
Not half a moment after this quaint outburst, she narrows her focus entirely to keeping this man enlisted in her service. ]
Lay it out. [ She doesn't want it, but she's not going to let the only feasibly soft surface she has for enduring this evening be revoked now. ] Find me a pillow, if you have any desire at all to survive this night. [ That there is one anywhere in this cursed vicinity is unlikely, but that's hardly her problem; he should have the sense to rob someone of their robe and make do if he fails to locate something better. ]
no subject
Matt doesn't imagine that's the person in charge around here, or else she wouldn't be slumming it in a standard-issue robe without a bed to her name. But it does raise interesting questions about where she's come from.
Is your world gone too? Matt's voraciously curious, but he can't bring himself to ask. He can't imagine either of them would like where that line of inquiry would end. If she said no, Matt would be jealous; if she said yes, they'd both be miserable. He settles for kneeling down, cradling the bedroll in his arms, and eyeing the ground nearby for the optimal placement.
On the one hand, this is pushover behavior. But on the other, let's put it this way: There might not be a monarchy where Matt's from, but he's no stranger to letting a beautiful woman give him orders. ]
I'm sorry I insulted you, [ he adds, conversational, as he tosses aside a pebble that threatens to create a less-than-orthopedic sleeping environment. ] That definitely wasn't my intention.
[ Matt smooths the bedroll down, his posture easy and movements fluid. He has a bit more trouble when it comes to pillows, because: there aren't any. Ever hopeful, Matt glances left and right, and then up to Cersei. He pulls a rueful moue. ]
This would be easier if my magic was working. But let's see ...
no subject
And he doesn't, she must acknowledge, blunder - he has some understanding that she is not likely to tolerate a half-competent job, no matter how unaccommodating the ground beneath them. Her eyes dart after his hands, and then back up to his face, the bright jade narrowing as she measures him again.
What in any of the seven hells could a man gain from being guileless and kind in this place? He's gentle in word as well as with his smoothing hands, and she cannot fathom why. He is remorseful, apparently genuine even in that, and if she'd been born the lioness she was always meant to be, her golden coat would be bristling, ears laid flat. But there is also, beneath her confusion and the annoyance it kindles, a deep and abiding pleasure, too. To be obeyed this way, to be treated to such deferential apology, to have been bestowed the company of a man who himself moves with a remarkably feline grace—
But then he speaks of magic, and her appreciation is spiced again with suspicion. Magic? This word conjures only slithering visions, and as a chill bounds up her spine, she tips her chin, elevating herself above such barbaric talk. And yet - ]
You command no magic. [ This is much simpler than inquiring what sort of magic he seems to think belongs to him, and while vanity will not allow her to fawn over the possibility, her eyes give away a hungry interest, much as they betray her approval for the work his hands do with that dreadful bedroll. She is derisive, if she must be anything at all. It will not do to have her heart springing toward hope. ]
Was the summoning of pillows the height of your wizardry? This is twice the insult of the first.
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I truly wish I could prove you wrong, [ he says dryly. ] It doesn't matter practically speaking, but I was thinking more of a modified light construct. Under here. [ He lifts one end of the bedroll, and sketches a curved shape with his other hand: the gesture is about the size and shape of a hot water bottle. ] Support your neck, follow the shape of your head. I think I could get it to have a decent amount of give.
But, you know, lacking that, I saw some branches that might be passably soft. Maybe woven grass. Any interest?
[ It's not so totally different from the magical projects he'd embarked on at home. Those too had involved a lot of improvisation--as a starving grad student, he didn't have the money to do otherwise. And Matt finds that the prospect of any task, no matter how minor and quixotic--any problem to solve--distracts him from the thorny existential questions lurking at the base of his brain. As long as he's stuck in place, he may as well provide himself the illusion of forward motion. ]
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Under her neck, to follow the shape of her head, as if he or his hands were familiar with either. What support could light offer? These are the inane ramblings of pious men, or madmen, neither of which will be of any use to her now. She needs warriors, spies, sellswords, kings. What is she to do with a man offering to venture forth and find her woven grass when she most needs a jagged blade?
She wants to jeer, to flaunt so inept a gift, but the truth is that the taut, narrow muscles of her neck and shoulders are indeed interested. She would like nothing more than to slay the final hours of this day by laying her body, which is woefully unaccustomed to such rigorous travel, upon an intact bedroll, with a cushion of light filling the curve of her neck. It is immensely aggravating, actually, how much she wants this. ]
I don't want branches. Give me the light. [ How discourteous of him to elaborate upon such a gift and then refuse to provide it. How cruel to supply only grass where he might have produced a luxury deserving of a queen.
She cannot help regarding him again, incisive and distrustful, but not without a burgeoning interest, too. He lacks completely the build of a worthy knight, or of even a suitably rabid beast to do her bidding, but there is something in the resilience of his spirit that draws the eye back again and again. She turns to bear better witness to what he will or will not achieve, eyes scaling from his hands back up to his eyes.
Her tone she keeps level, icy, though she cannot banish entirely the glint of hunger that shines through. The hunger to taste what he has spoken of, though it cannot possibly be true. It is more, even so, than anyone else has offered her. ]
I would wear a crown of woven grass tonight. It might remind these peasants what royalty looks like, and they would not dare treat me so unjustly come morning.
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It would have been so easy to do that for her, last week. To conjure light, give it shape and warmth--hell, to retrieve lost objects, or shield her from impacts, or make her extraordinarily lucky. But here, now, Matt's effortless connection to something greater than himself--to the heart at the heart of all things--has been severed. Snuffed out. ]
My spells don't work here. [ Matt swallows, trying to keep his voice even. ] Which I guess is good on them, because otherwise I'd burn this place to the ground and get the fuck out. [ He's never burned anything to the ground; the most he's ever done is burned his curtains. Still, the words come out, and in the moment, he almost thinks he means them. ] When I try, it just ...
[ He cuts himself off with a quick shake of his head. Pressing his lips tightly together, he stands. For a moment he looks towards Cersei, though not quite at her, appearing to gaze slightly past the top of her head. Absently, his hands draw a circle in the air. ]
Let me get you that crown, at least. Just a sec.
[ Matt heads off into the cluster of central ruins. He passes a pair of Hylician guards on his way, and their narrow gazes follow him as he pads off. Apparently he's been well behaved enough thus far that they don't see any reason to detain him, though, and he disappears into the shadows of the stone.
By the time he reappears, it's been more than a second. Matt has two branches tucked under one arm, and a bough in his hand that he's woven into a passable cottagecore crown. He's even gathered up a few fallen leaves and added them at aesthetic intervals. He'd prefer flowers, but he didn't encounter any. ]
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He speaks of magic still, believing it still to be true, and she makes an inadvertent fist of the fingers curled into the pale folds of her lusterless robe. To burn this place to the ground - that would be the most satisfying display of magic she could imagine. To reduce these crumbling ruins to ashes, to depart as imperviously as shadows into the woods; she can fathom nothing sweeter. But he cannot give her that, is no more a master of flames than she herself is, and she slices her gaze after the futile work of his hands. He summons nothing from the air, conjures neither bed nor pillow nor crown. He is just another hapless prisoner, morose that nothing remains to him.
She laughs when he declares his next venture, her gaze following him only for half a moment before rolling away. He cannot present to her a crown. The diadems of rubies and emeralds that she wears at court are to be found nowhere in this provincial hell. She is readying to abandon the scene completely, to demand from another pair of hands an altogether different bedroll, when he returns.
Her arms are crossed, agitated by her own insistence on lingering, when she spots the branches under his own arm. That he has fulfilled his offer to find them startles her, particularly because he stands to gain nothing from doing so, and especially because she specifically assured him that she did not want them. More jarring still is the fact that in his hand there is held a crown. It is made of no diamonds and no rubies, but it is fashioned as a crown should be. It is garnished not with burnished gold nor with crystal, but with unassuming leaves.
As she had assumed he would never bother to deliver to her branches, let alone tailor for her a makeshift crown, she can for a time only blink at what he has brought. A twist of light carved out of thin air would have been gratifying for the more severe powers it suggested, but this plain, purposeless trinket makes something in her chest ache. She does not know what to make of a crown which comes without a price. The one she'd worn before had demanded nothing less than her life, and everything therein. ]
Why did you do that? [ She's reaching for it despite the suspicion bristling in her voice, hesitant as though the pretty circlet might reveal itself to be a viper. Why would he do this? This sort of kindness, utterly bare of manipulation, leaves her dumbstruck, and to be left dumbstruck infuriates her. That displeasure is in open contention against the pleasure of receiving this gift, and she takes it before it can be refused. Her fingers are gentle in their study even as her voice is whip-thin, beholding magic despite herself. ]
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He only hopes he hasn't managed to upset her in some way. He'll try to tread with caution. ]
It was fun to do something with my hands, [ he answers first. That's the least complicated of his feelings. ] To make something, even a little thing.
[ It makes him feel, in a strange way, like he's real. Touch would probably do it too: his oldest and most indelible language. But he hasn't had the opportunity to touch anyone here, except to be hustled along by a guard, and even that was usually through the medium of a whip. ]
I make things like that at home all the time. With herbs and flowers, or leather thongs and scrap metal. Old jewelry, all kinds of things.
[ It also pleases Matt to do something nice for someone else--to aim to bring a little brightness into their existence here, even if he can't shake the suspicion that it won't make a difference in the end. That motive is more complicated, and he's not sure Cersei would want to hear it. Or maybe he isn't sure he's prepared to give it voice. ]