TDM #1

[aionmods]

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.

Comments

amos burton | the expanse | firebrand

[baltimores]

> dreaming; the dark outside

[ He's never seen anything like this before.

He has, in a way. Amos has lived most of his life in space. Doesn't intend to live anywhere else. Had just been on his way back up. But this... isn't that. He shouldn't be able to see so much, not all at once. Space is cold, and dark, and empty. It isn't colourful or full of life. Parts of it, sure. But not like this.

He turns to the darkness, because it's what makes sense. The further he ventures in, the more sense it makes. The world made him empty. And now, everything is. It's comforting, in its own way.

Amos catches the eye of someone nearby, gives them a slight nod in greeting. ]

You too, huh.

[ It's probably not a good thing. It's where they are now. It is what it is. ]


> captivity + transit
(cw: some suicidal ideation, allusions to past csa)

[ The whole crystal thing, he could handle. Even the part where he's naked — it's fine. Not great, but nothing's happening.

The whip around his neck is hell.

Amos follows, because he has no choice. His body is tense and on edge, though; fight or flight fully activated, and he's only ever really known fight. He's too weak to fight. But losing all agency, in this state, weak and helpless and open and— It's too much.

He peers over the narrow path's edge, frequently, wondering how much energy it'll take for him to send himself over. If he can make it quick, at least. Or if he'll run the risk of being even more weak, even more helpless, even more at the mercy of someone else. So it's probably noticed, the forceful way he's made to stick to the path, emerge above on solid ground, join the caravan, lose any real chance of removing himself from the equation entirely.

After the first attempt at fighting back, making an escape, clawing at the whip attacking its wielder getting away any and all of it, after the first time he gets beaten down for the trouble, he... shuts down.

It's a defence mechanism. His eyes go vacant; his body limp, pliable. He's present in physical form, will go wherever guided, but the rest of him is buried deep down. Message received. It's better to just not be here at all.

He's still in there, of course. He's still reachable. But there's no telling if trying to get his attention will result in slow but reasoned response, or provoke something violent.

... Good thing he's not capable of much at the moment, huh. ]


> waiting

[ Amos doesn't explore. Makes no attempt. He's only just starting to come back to himself; doesn't think he earned any of the guards' favour along the way, though.

So he sticks to the ruins. There's some security in the walls and pillars, in having something solid and sturdy at his back. It's the most okay he's felt since. All that darkness, probably.

Doesn't mind when he spots someone else — as long as they're not a guard. The whole ritual thing sounds like bullshit as far as he's concerned, but everything about this has been kinda bullshit, hasn't it? His voice is dry, but there's an exhaustion to it as well. ]

If they're gonna kill us, kinda wish they'd hurry up and get it over with.


> wildcard

[ got him from towards the end of s5; arii#6412 or cadiai for any plotting! ]

Waiting

[brutallyefficient]

[ He's set out to explore what he could of the ruins. There's not much near the camp, but something is better than nothing.

Connor looks back at the stranger, giving them a cursory assessing look. It's...strange when people approach him so casually and start a conversation. In any case, They seem impatient and frustrated. Understandable given the "unusual" circumstances they find themselves in. ]

They wouldn't put this much time and effort into escorting this many people without a reason. It's likely we have some value to them.

[ Ergo, it's unlikely they'll be killed. For the moment. ]

[baltimores]

[ Amos tilts his head, the movement stiff, sore. He can still feel the whip that had been around his neck. It's not there anymore, hasn't been for some time now, but — the phantom feeling of it, the anxiety it's brought that he's only been somewhat successful in pushing down, out.

This guy might have a point, except. ]

You think? Because when I get dragged to ancient ruins and hear shit about rituals, human sacrifice seems within the realm of possibility.

[ Because this totally happens to him all the time. (It doesn't. But, you know, with the way the past week or so has gone, why the hell not?) ]

[brutallyefficient]

Ah.

[ 'When I hear something' doesn't seem based on anything reliable. For now, it seems wise to ask about this further. See what he can uncover for certain. And the best way to begin that is with a polite introduction. ]

My name is Connor, by the way. What's your name?

[baltimores]

[ The simple acceptance he sees to his sarcasm is appreciated, actually. He's ready for things to go permanently pear-shaped. Bitching about it further really wouldn't do a whole lot.

Hadn't expected an introduction to go along with it, but he's got no problem going with the flow of conversation. A blink, a slightly more open expression before he answers. ]

Amos.

[ He takes a cursory glance at the ruins they're immersed in. There's a twitch of his lips as they pull into a thoughtful frown. ]

Hell of a place to meet new people.

[brutallyefficient]

[ There's a regarding nod in return for the name. Then, he looks off at their surroundings. ]

I'm not sure these circumstances are an ideal way to meet anyone, no.

[ And he eases the topic back around. ]

Especially with 'rituals' being mentioned, which could cause a feeling of anxiety in some individuals. [ He looks back. ] Who did you hear about that from?

[baltimores]

[ Oh, no, they're back at this. Alright then.

Connor earns a look at the implied anxiety, but Amos doesn't comment on it further. He is anxious, is the thing, but he doesn't think he is. Doesn't recognize the feeling. He's more focused on trying to stuff it back in its box than to actually embrace it, and in most cases, he'd be successful — except here it's kind of a constant assault, so it's a losing battle.

Doesn't mean he's gotta acknowledge it, though. So, the look, before he taps the wall behind him with his knuckles. ]

Some of the guards are talking about it. Guess they don't care who hears. [ And why would they? They're all helpless here. ] I just figured, you know. You bring a bunch of people to creepy ruins, probably isn't a whole lot else you do with them except offer them up to a god or some stupid shit.

[ Really, it makes perfect sense to him. He can't imagine what alternatives there might be — in part due to a limited scale of imagination; in part because he really, really doesn't want to. ]

waiting

[velvetoversteel]

If they meant to kill us, they would have done so already.

[ Moiraine is a small woman, but her bearing makes her seem taller than she is -- she carries herself straight despite the evident weariness in her eyes and the flimsy protection of her white robe. She meets the man's gaze without shying away; her own eyes betray very little outside of that inevitable exhaustion.

Of course she's afraid -- but she won't let it show, not in front of strangers and not when she yet has control over her emotions. ]

I mislike this talk of a ritual, but we seem to have little choice but to wait and see what happens.

[ There, she lets a little of her distaste show -- distaste for not being able to do anything but try to stay in their captors' good graces and wait. ]

Have you eaten?

[baltimores]

[ He takes her in — small stature, but a kind of regal; words clear and calm and honest — and for a second, thinks of Lydia. And Amos may still carry tension, but the association lets him feel more comfortable in leaning further into the exhaustion.

So he leans back against a wall, embracing how solid it feels. Lets it support some of his weight. And meets her gaze head on. They might mirror one another — except he isn't hiding any emotions, because he's simply out of them. Empty, but for the sarcasm he still has the energy to respond with. ]

Yeah. And if they're supposed to kill us for it, the least they could do is hurry up already.

[ He really doesn't have any reason to think it's about anything else. Hell, the alternative might be worse — being kept alive just to be used.

He pushes the thought away. Not exactly ready to go back there so soon.

And instead, drops his gaze at her inquiry, almost feeling like a kid being gently disciplined again. His headspace is fucked. He needs to snap out of it, isn't there yet, doesn't know when (if) he will be.

With a slight shake to his head, no, and half-defiant, half-petulant, ] Not exactly hungry.

[velvetoversteel]

[ She may be slightly scolding him, which is partly just an Aes Sedai thing of needing to appear to be in charge, but it's not at all malicious -- and in any case she understands not having much of an appetite in a situation like this. Still-- ]

You should keep your strength up. We may yet have need of it.

[ For what, Moiraine doesn't know. But he looks like a powerful man -- someone she might have picked for a potential Warder, in another time -- and she is as good as defenseless like this, with the ability to touch the One Power just at her fingertips but not quite there. One can hardly blame her for wanting someone who looks like he might be able to defend her if worse comes to worst. ]

My name is Moiraine. May I have yours?

[ Politeness, just now, costs her nothing, and as ever the noblewoman's manners show through. ]

[baltimores]

[ Thing is, he needs someone to be in charge. Different situation, he might've fared well enough on his own. This is too much all at once, though, and he's regressing.

Eating would probably be one way to stop that, wouldn't it. He can't deny her logic at all. And that, combined with her present nature — something caring, nurturing, something he's yet to experience here hasn't really experienced in a long time — pushes him into receptiveness.

He takes an extra moment, body still as he processes all of that. Pushes himself off the wall, a silent acknowledgment that if she leads the way to any food, he'll follow. ]

Amos.

[ He's never met a Moiraine before. It's kind of something for him to hold on to, to remember: the past is the past, and it isn't here. This is something new.

(He probably would protect her, if it came to it. Make the right impression, and he's easy that way.) ]

You know what's good here?

[ It's mostly rhetorical; all it's been is military rations, and though he can feel his strength coming back bit by bit, it's not exactly a lot. Still. Hell. Maybe she's full of surprises; her mere presence has gotten him feeling marginally better, so who knows. ]

[velvetoversteel]

[ Moiraine scoffs -- not at him, but at the idea that there might actually be good food. ]

Perhaps if we could go into the woods and forage for ourselves.

[ That's assuming, of course, that there is anything edible. But she would take a foraged meal of roots, berries, or whatever else there might be over what they have--

--which is, as Amos guessed, more rations. Moiraine has figured out where they're kept, though she has to have a brief argument with the guard explaining that she's not taking it for herself, and no, she can't lie to him about it.

Having successfully extricated herself from that, she offers the ration bar out to Amos. ]

These are so jealously guarded one might think they were a meal fit for royalty, [ she says dryly. ]

[baltimores]

[ He pulls a face at the idea of foraging in the woods, a slight contortion of distaste, like he's had enough of attempting that for a lifetime already. 'course, last forest he'd been in had been pretty much dead. This one is just... weird.

Bare bones as the rations are, he'll take that instead, thanks. It's really not all that different from what he's used to, it's just that everything kinda tastes like ash right now.

... Ash that can help him get some strength back, so, yeah. He takes the bar from her, has already taken a bite by the time she speaks up again. Finishes chewing before answering, because he does have some manners. ]

Just another way to keep their boots on our necks. Any way they can keep control, they'll take it.

[ Which is another reason he wishes they'd hurry up and just kill them already. He says it simply enough, though; this is life right now, can't really do a whole lot about it at the moment.

Though before he takes another bite, he pauses, and it's probably stupid, but. His question really is honest enough. She does kind of have that air to her. ]

... Are you royalty?

captivity

[coerthantorment]

[Estinien is pulled from the Firebrand shrine around the same time that Amos is, and is no more comfortable with the idea of confinement. He, too, considers throwing himself off the edge, having been defeated so handily by one of the warrior's whips - but not in the hope of ending it all. Instead, he found him fantasizing about plunging into the river and escaping from his captor's clutches. Normally, a fall like this would be of no import to him.

Yet, he can barely stand when he emerges, and with his mind clouded by the dark thoughts of the dream he just left behind, it all happens too fast for him to make the decision in time. Instead, he looks down into the canyon with a feeling of regret. He feels like he's losing everything - his home, his freedom, and even any chance of escaping.

He sees Amos's earliest flurry of resistance, and takes the opportunity to join in. As Amos claws at his bond, Estinien focuses all of his will into issuing a single blow across the face of the soldier holding the man's whip. He bloodies his knuckles against the guard's helm and startled him enough to loosen his grip on Amos's whip - but, ultimately, they are vastly outnumbered, and where one whip is lost, there are more ready to lash upon them.

In Estinien's case, all that results from it is him being forced to the ground at his captor's demand, and summarily kicked across the face. From there, things only get worse for him.

It's in the evening, the first time in their trip that they set up camp, that Estinien sees the opportunity to try again. They're passing out some rations and bedrolls, distracted by the task of managing their prisoners and eating their dinner, when there is a sudden commotion at the edge of where the firelight reaches. Estinien has been caught trying to pry the whip off his ankle and make a run for it.

Moments later he's straining against the compulsion of his bonds, and next he's being slammed into the dirt near the campfire. His wrists are wrestled together and bound by another leash, a hand squeezed around his throat to strangle out the last of his resistance. At some point during this, he meets Amos's eye, the man he remembers seeing fighting back before. There is a deadness to the man's gaze, and in this moment of humiliation, something about it cuts into him.

Once he's finished spitting and hissing at the guards and is left heaving in the dirt, he turns his frustration towards Amos. Not because of anything he's done wrong, but because of what his surrender represents to him.]

Would you give yourself over to them so easily?

[It across like an accusation, but also like a plea. It can't be over... not so soon.]

[baltimores]

[ He'd gasped, that first moment he'd felt himself free; turned to do— what. Amos' first instinct had been to kill his captor, and even as he'd moved to try to do just that, he'd lost his footing, still too weak to really do anything. He'd caught sight of Estinien before falling, before he helped bring himself down and made it easier for their guards to get him back under control, with some good reminders along the way to not try that again.

At some point while on the ground, amid the blooming pain and feeling two new whips around him, he'd decided to just not be there anymore. So he isn't.

He's mechanically eating his ration when Estinien makes his next attempt. The sounds of the commotion bring Amos back up to the surface, just barely. Food abandoned, he meets Estinien's eyes, and there's just barely a flicker of recognition there.

And then he's gone again.

It takes a moment for Estinien's words to penetrate. Amos blinks and turns his head towards him, slow, like he's only just reemerging from a fog. Everything feels heavy, and tired, like more than just his body has been bruised.

He's silent a moment longer than that, like he has to remember how to speak, too. That it's okay if he makes a sound. (He's still not entirely sure if it is, one foot in this world, the other elsewhere.) ]

I... [ It's a croak, at first. There's a half-hearted attempt at clearing his throat. ] Sometimes it's easier to just go with it.

[ The resignation is already set in deep. Like he's felt this before, and yeah, giving up might be the way to go. ]

[coerthantorment]

[Estinien squirms on the ground, trying to resist the control of the whip, but he's spent. The magic of his bonds makes it impossible for him to get off the ground, the weight of the soldier's will seeming to press down on him, impossible to shift. The helplessness is hard to bear - he recognizes the look in Amos's eyes, just as he did in the eyes of so many refugees and the enslaved peoples of the Empire.

In the past, he had been one of the few that could afford to agitate for the greater good, blessed with the power and skills to do so. But what can he do now? If he doesn't act, doesn't do something to save himself and the others, then who will?

He keeps straining, keeping fighting, until eventually one of the soldiers strolls over and kicks him in the gut. He's gruffly told to stop causing a fuss, and for a moment, he obliges. He's too busy gasping for air to do much else.

A while later, after the immediate heat has abated, he looks to Amos again with desperation in his eyes.]

Something... Something has happened. To us, to Etheirys... we cannot simply...

[He wheezes, at a loss for words. He doesn't even know why he's talking to this guy. Maybe just because he's there. For once Estinien reflexively feels the desire to reach out to another human being, searching for the comradery he'd almost gotten used to, but that had abruptly been taken away.]

Did you not feel it?

[baltimores]

[ It's all he can do but passively watch Estinien fight against his bonds. Even if he was in a better place, mentally, it would still be all he could do. On some level, he suspects they both know it; Amos just jumped from anger to acceptance almost immediately. It spared him more kicks to the ribs, at least.

For all that actually means, considering he doesn't know what's next. Just that it can't be anything good.

So he watches as Estinien is brought back under control. He's still the entire time, ration abandoned, the only signs of life coming from his eyes. He's more present than he wants to be, but just sitting in a camp isn't the worst circumstance ever, so he's here.

Amos blinks in surprise when Estinien speaks again, and then his brows furrow — a real sign that he's listening, that he's engaging. What the fuck is an Etheirys? ]

I don't feel anything.

[ He could mean anything by that. He's not sure what Estinien is referring to, but he does know that emotionally, he's hollow. Has been for most of his life. There's something grotesquely familiar in curling back up in the sensation that kept him going when he was a kid, awful and almost soothing all at once.

Wishes it didn't have to be this way. It does. ]

What am I supposed to be feeling?

[coerthantorment]

[Estinien is no deft hand at reading people, but he's capable of recognizing these sorts of responses. He'd felt it for himself for a while, as a child, but had the privilege of surviving it. Even so, he doesn't know how to respond to Amos's inquiry. What should anyone feel? He certainly doesn't know.

All he knows is that he left everything he cared about in a state where they seemed happy and safe, only to seemingly have it undone in a moment. The Scions, Aymeric, Alberic... when he'd last seen them he felt only fulfillment and pride, a height he didn't know he was capable of, only so that he had further to fall.

He'd spent so long spurning the world around him for fear of loss. It's in this moment that he remembers why.]

I felt the world die, and all I loved within it.

[Instead of staring at Amos, he now turns his gaze towards the sky, taking in unfamiliar stars.]

transit.

[inutilis]

[ it's evening hour, just after rations have been passed along and the sun has set in the sky; it'll be time for the bedrolls to come out soon, time for the meal-time clamor to subside.

wherever Amos has settled himself, he'll find a tall figure sink to sit beside him; Abel doesn't intrude on the other man's personal space, gives him room to breathe, but... the priest lingers nearby, holding aloft a cup filled with water. ]

...Have you been drinking?

[ or eating, for that matter? ...it isn't hard to see the glaze in Amos's eyes, just as it isn't hard to see the worry having bloomed in Abel's. ]

[baltimores]

[ Amos starts at the sound of Abel's voice, his body jerking slightly at what, to him, is a sudden intrusion. It's just a moment, though, and he stills immediately after. Doesn't quite relax, but the burst of adrenaline is already gone, exhaustion settling back in.

He blinks a few times, like he's coming back to the world, before turning his head to get a better look at the cup. Then the person holding it.

Goes to shake his head — no, I haven't been drinking; no, I don't want what you're offering — before he really meets Abel's eyes, and after a moment's hesitation, thinks better of it. He's captured, just like him. Any threat he could possibly pose... he probably doesn't.

Amos' eyes drift back down to the cup, and silently, he takes it. His first sips are small, but the trickle of water down his throat does feel a little better. Helps bring his voice back, at least. ]

Thanks.

[ It's small, and soft, but it's a sign of life. Hell, it's an awareness of at least a part of his surroundings, as afterwards he's left sitting there, lost, and holding onto a half-full cup with both hands like it's some kind of lifeline.

He meets Abel's eyes again. Maybe a second lifeline. Maybe not. Only thing that really comes to mind is, ] Who're you?

[inutilis]

[ when something approaching life creeps back in to Amos's eyes, Abel's shoulders subtly but visibly ease just a fraction; good. he's still in there, still hanging on despite the odds stacked against him. as long as there's something stubbornly hanging on, the rest can be pulled back from whatever precipice Amos might have found himself teetering upon.

so Abel shifts his position, moving from a crouch to sit properly, giving the other man a rapidly warming smile. ]

Today? A man with water who also happens to have half a portion of extremely unappetizing dried rations, if you could stomach it.

[ but he doesn't make move to offer the rations, just yet-- intend, he's slowly offering a hand. cautiously-- not because he anticipates any trouble from Amos, but because Abel can see he's been through the wringer and his nerves might be on edge. no need to startle him if Abel can help it. ]

I'm-- [ the briefest hesitation, before: ] --ah. It's just Abel. [ pomp and ceremony don't seem to have the usual place, here. so 'Abel' will do.

whether or not his newfound friend chooses to introduce himself is his choosing. after all the things that have been taken from them... even these meager choices hold some importance, he feels. ]

[baltimores]

[ Somewhere in the back of Amos' mind, dormant, only just waking up, it occurs to him that Abel is offering kindness more than he is food or water. It's a subconscious recognition, having not been on the receiving end often in his life. Still, that it's there at all is making him more receptive, even if he isn't entirely sure why. Just that, amid all of the nothingness, there's a spark of warmth, and turns out he wants that feeling after all.

His eyes follow Abel's hand before clicking back to make eye contact once again at the introduction. And then there's the faintest of nods in acknowledgment. ]

Amos.

[ He does choose to reciprocate, after all. The meagre bit of agency he's been given is on his radar about as much as the kindness is. It's barely anything; it doesn't really matter; there's a kernel there he isn't aware he's holding onto.

His eyes go back to the food. Amos can't really figure out if he's hungry or not. He doesn't really feel anything at all. When's the last time he did eat? He's not sure. He frowns as his mind tries to recall lost time, fails.

He decides to go for it. Setting the cup at his feet, Amos reaches out, his own fingers brushing across Abel's as he takes the offered rations. He takes a pretty healthy bite, considering his current state — must not have eaten recently, after all — and doesn't realize it as his face contorts slightly at the unappetizing nature of what they've all been given. Still, it's something, and his body is reacting to it, so he takes a second bite, a third, and they're gone pretty quick.

And now Amos has found himself more awake, more present, than he's been in a while. And Abel is still here. A second thanks seems redundant, but it really feels like he should offer something. ]

This something you do a lot? Help people?

[ It's something so foreign to Amos that the question is entirely sincere. He knows people like that exist, just the chances of finding someone like that at all, let alone here. Abel isn't too good to be true, he's just... Amos is a little awestruck, is all. ]

[inutilis]

[ whatever relief had been slowly blooming in his chest to see that life returning to a dead-eyed gaze is only solidifying further as the seconds tick by; Amos accepting his offer of a meal-- however paltry and lacking dried rations might be-- is extremely heartening. so, it seems Abel's newfound friend is a stubbornly strong sort, and that... that is as good news as Abel might ask for in times like these.

so that smile at his face becomes downright disgustingly pleased for a second as he dusts his hands free of crumbs, encouragingly beaming alongside the other man rediscovering his appetite.

the question, though, takes him a bit by surprise; there's something earnest behind it, a puzzlement that has a little niggle of quiet concern worming its way into him. this gesture is a simple one, far as Abel sees it. if Amos finds it a tad bewildering... then it speaks to a marked scarcity of kindness in his life. ...ah.

but Abel reaches and tries to grasp for something approaching levity. ]

You know, Mr. Amos... I would love to upkeep the impression I'm a worldly and saintly creature, because that's got to be quite the flattering image, but-- the more we talk, the more I fear I'll burst that bubble, I'm afraid...! Yes, no time at all before I'd pop that one. I'd really hate to set you up for disappointment.

[ sheepishly, with a bit of self-deprecation leaking into his eyes-- he holds a hand out in front of him -- but this time it is empty, extended to betray the light tremble of his fingers in nerves. ]

...I'm more than minutely terrified, honestly~! And maybe I was hoping if I bribed you, you might put up with my company for a while lest I suffer some mortifyingly embarrassing meltdown and end up dragged away to God knows where, so...

[ a soft exhale, and he hangs his head, shoulders sloping in a wearied resignation. ]

You don't have to carry a conversation or anything-- I'm really not terribly high maintenance, but-- maybe we could sit here for a while...?

dreaming

[solitudehunter]

[A slight nod is given in return, but the usual apathetic look doesn't melt from Rovan's expression even with new company. Whether he sees someone else in Amos, it doesn't show.]

So who messed with your supplies? A waste of shrooms, if you ask me. [But also great for killing him off if he was venturing around in the outland. An easy target for zombies. Whatever it is, Rovan lets out a sigh:]

God, I could use a smoke.

[baltimores]

[ For his part, Amos' expression is pleasantly blank. Whether he has someone else with him or not, it doesn't really matter — but he won't say no to the company. ]

Kinda figured I stroked out. It happens. [ Shouldn't have, to him. He's young and healthy; as much as he didn't have time to properly prepare for the shuttle's takeoff, his body should've been able to withstand it. So it's kind of a surprise that he's here, but. It does happen.

He hums. ]

One last drink would be nice. [ His voice is practically shrugging for him; whatever this is, he's accepted it, stray lamentations aside. ] Guess you can only take what you get.